Curse Of The Dark Wind (Book 6)
Page 36
“I agree,” Luke replies staring in the caster’s direction. He is stunned when the gypsy painfully jabs her finger into his chest. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Don’t you dare get angry at her. Nyx didn’t do anything wrong. This is all you and me. We’ve been avoiding making a decision and expecting things to sort themselves out. That has to end.”
“You’re right,” the half-elf sighs, forcing a crooked smile. “So we’re still together, but no couple stuff? This puts you on even footing with Kira since she’s absent, right? I can do that if you can.”
“It might take some time, but I can do it. I’m allowed one or two slip ups a week though because I’m only human . . . mostly,” Sari replies before taking a deep breath. She notices a flash of light by their friends and sees Timoran waving toward them. “Looks like something is happening. Just act natural and we’ll be fine.”
“Natural is us kissing and being openly touchy-feely with each other.”
The gypsy rolls her eyes and scratches Luke behind the ear, causing him to stomp his feet and blissfully stretch. “Then learn how to behave or I’ll treat you like a dog. Seems doing this brings Stiletto to the surface. I could get Nyx to play this game too.”
The half-elf raises his hands in surrender and waits for Sari to pick Fizzle up before leading the way to the others. Another burst of light erupts, but Timoran’s large frame is blocking their view of the source. It is only when they step around the barbarian that they see Nyx holding the Compass Key while Delvin secures a splint on her broken arm. The image hovering above the central pearl of the relic is of another mountain, smoke drifting from the top and a rolling expanse around the base.
“Where is that?” Luke asks as he gets closer to the image. He runs a finger along the mountain’s side, sensing heat from the vivid illusion. “I’m guessing a volcano, but the open space confuses me. Is that how areas around volcanoes typically look? I thought they were rockier.”
“Keep watching. This illusion has a surprise in a few seconds,” Delvin replies, finishing the splint and gently easing the caster’s arm down.
Luke leaps back with a yelp when an illusionary scorpion leaps out of the image and crawls along his chest. Sari slaps at the creature, but her hands pass through to strike the flailing forest tracker. The scorpion vanishes when Nyx hands the Compass Key to Timoran and snaps her fingers. She yawns and nearly collapses, Delvin being the only thing keeping the exhausted caster on her feet.
“I’ve had a long day and need to heal,” Nyx says in a hoarse voice. She walks over to hug Luke and Sari, wincing at the pain in her arm. “We’re heading for Bor’daruk. There’s rumored to be an ancient volcano in the desert, but the legend puts it deep in nomad territory. So we’ll be needing to talk to the Grasdon family for supplies, guides, and mounts.”
“So we’re going to visit Kira?” Sari asks, shooting a smile of relief at Luke. “I finally get to meet her?”
“We know this will be hard for you two,” Delvin answers. He notices Nyx slump and hurries to help the others with the snoring caster. “We want to stay here until the Day of Darkness passes. This will give us time to heal, fix the Garden of Uli, restock supplies, and prepare for the future.”
“Kira isn’t going to require too much preparation,” Luke states with a laugh. He sees the angry look on Sari’s face and rolls his eyes. “They’ll figure it out pretty quickly. Sari and I are taking a break until we can talk with Kira. So the sooner we get to Bor’daruk, the better. We can even leave earlier.”
Timoran shakes his head and approaches the forest tracker, placing a large hand on his friend’s shoulder. “You wounded Stephen and he appeared to be going into hysterics. We fear that he will be out for your blood and we are in no condition to fight him. This might be a situation where we are in trouble no matter what we do, but it is better to stay here where you can train. You are the only one of us who has truly wounded Stephen, which means we need you at your peak.”
Luke is about to protest when he sees the haggard look on his friends’ faces. After so much time defending him and struggling to keep the Dark Wind at bay, they are barely able to stay on their feet. He nods to Timoran and manipulates the wind to summon the Brocken Dragon, which takes longer than he would have liked. As if called from an urgent task, the emerald beast lazily flies to the champions and lands with her head on the ground.
“Climb on my disgruntled guardian and she’ll take you to get some rest,” Luke tells everyone, ignoring the snort from the dragon. “I’ll do my best to figure out what happened to my sabers and try to train myself to kill Stephen. Thanks for everything and let me do the hard work until we leave. I’ll even find a shield for Delvin.”
His friends climb onto the head of the guardian and the beast flies them to the glittering castle. The half-elf watches them go and holds up his hand with the Ring of Uli. The wooden jewelry does not do anything, but he is not surprised since he has a gut feeling that it has nothing to do with what actually happened. There was no surge of aura when he cut Stephen like when he struck the Lich with the undead killing powers of the ring.
“I didn’t even notice what had happened until he panicked,” Luke says to himself while he examines his dirt-covered hands. He replays the memory in his mind, but nothing strikes him as out of place. “I rejected my true power, so how did that happen? What did I do to myself by rejecting you?”
“Something that nobody expected,” the griffin answers from deep within his mind.
*****
Standing atop the Widowhorn, an invisible Isaiah peers through the clouds to watch Luke practice. He never flinches when Gabriel appears next to him, the god’s ebony cape billowing in the whipping winds. The horned spiders retreat from the presence of the deity whose barely contained rage creates a visible aura of red around his body. Gabriel takes a deep breath and exhales, unleashing a bitter wind that whips up the distant piles of titan ashes. Standing still with his staff on his shoulder, Isaiah patiently waits for the god to speak.
“You know the fool better than me, my trusted hand,” Gabriel says in a surprisingly kind voice. “Please explain why he rejected his power and hurled part of my plan into the Chaos Void. Centuries of forging the perfect weapons for this prophecy and that idiot decides to stay weak. Who refuses power?”
“A Callindor, which is something you should have expected, my lord,” the fireskin replies with a respectful bow. He faces the god, daring only to stare at his master’s chest. “Remember that this has happened before with Callindors refusing to step onto the prophetic path in the first place. Luke is the first to go in the right direction, but he still comes from the line that you nurtured outside of this game. There were bound to be some surprises by inserting one of their breed into these events.”
“He’s too weak to survive. He may have gained some power, but it won’t be enough.”
“As you said, I know Luke Callindor better than you,” the fireskin states, choosing his words carefully. “You acknowledge that free will plays a part in these events and he has proven that more than the other champions. I trust Luke to do what we never dreamed would happen. Will he survive? I doubt it too, but I feel that he will do great things before his time comes to an end.”
Gabriel strokes his chin and focuses his gaze on the flash of sunlight bouncing off drawn sabers. “You make a good point. He rejected his power and managed to cut Stephen, a creature beyond the reach of my plans. I prepared the drite to keep my old friend at bay until a champion found a way to defeat him. I never expected it to be that child with his mortal blades. To be honest, and this stays between us, I do not know what happened. Maybe I am overreacting and Luke Callindor has gained a power that I simply cannot see. It would not be the first time one of my prophecies left me wondering about events. Still, I have worries.”
“What are you planning?” Isaiah asks, a chill running from the tip of his tail to the base of his neck. “He did nothing wrong.”
“Of course he
did something wrong. He said no,” Gabriel answers with a friendly smile. He pats the reptilian caster on the shoulder and sighs. “The perfect weapon wishes to speak with you and I am about to reintroduce the sixth champion to the game. I believe it is time for you to be scarce and let the champions handle the next challenge without your guidance.”
“How does this concern Luke Callindor?
“It means you will only watch while Stephen sets out to bring our wild hero to his knees.”
Gabriel rises into the air and transforms into a murder of silent crows that soar over the horizon. Isaiah rubs his neck and takes a final look at Luke Callindor, who is swinging his sabers and flipping around the pristine wall. The fireskin swallows the lump in his throat and licks his lips, fighting the urge to warn the young warrior about the darkness hunting him. Before he loses his resolve, Isaiah raises his staff above his head and wills it to carry him as far away from the champions as possible.
*****
The Baron sits on his elegant throne and rubs his eyes as the ranting voice of Stephen echoes throughout the castle. His son’s fury has been continuing for so long that he does not hear the individual words any more. Sipping at a goblet of wine, the Baron watches Raksha tackle the little girl and playfully gnaw on her shoulder. The child now resembles a doll of smooth metal, her face trapped in a permanent smile. The only sign that she used to be made of living flesh is her happy laugh that erupts whenever she wrestles with the demonic feline.
“Melanie! Raksha!” the Baron booms when he sees a ghostly image coming into focus in his drink. “Please take your fun outside. I have business to attend to.”
“Yes, master,” the girl says without her lips moving. With booming footsteps and innocent giggles, she chases the playful cat out of the room.
“Did I do well?” asks a faint voice from the wine goblet. A distorted face appears in the liquid and stares at the Baron.
“Your actions were satisfactory,” he replies, taking a sip from the goblet. He can sense the frown on the face of his guest even though he cannot see it. “Now I request that you never contact me of your own accord again.”
“But-”
“Do not push your luck.”
“This is why I despise you.”
“I know.”
The goblet quivers and the red wine bubbles as the hazy face appears to scream. With a tired sigh, the Baron places his drink down and patiently waits for the tantrum to end. The wine erupts in a geyser that splatters on the ceiling and the cup melts into a molten puddle.
“Foolish child is too much like her mother.”
The adventure continues in
Sleeper of the Wildwood Fugue
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17