The Last Scion (The Guardians of Light Book 1)

by R. Michael Card

  Ahrn swallowed a lump in his throat. Could the forces of The Blacklord be this far advanced, on the doorstep of St. Antin, with none of the monks knowing?

  “And I love that you are so willing to tell me all this.”

  “Oh, and why is that?”

  “Because, I’ll have so much to report when I reach the abbey.”

  Prandol’s sneer widened, curling into his cheeks. “You monks, always so confident. It’s going to be so fun breaking you.”

  “The feeling is mutual.”

  “Pardon…?”

  Ahrn rocked back on his feet and launched himself at the unsuspecting wizard. Head first, colliding into the man’s jaw. He heard the wet slap of the jaw slamming shut, the few unsteady footfalls as the wizard staggered back, then collapsed.

  Ahrn dropped back to the floor, rolled to his back, and though the rope at his wrists tore his flesh, he separated his hands far enough that he could squeeze them around his hips and feet. With hands in front of him, he kicked himself upright in one fluid movement and, hands still bound, bashed the side of the face of the guard who had come running to the aid of the wizard.

  The room erupted into motion, all of it towards him. He smiled in the instant he had to himself before the next man rushed in. As he had hoped, Senia lay completely ignored, forgotten on the floor.

  A sword flashed.

  Ahrn spun, weaving to the side, catching the man’s hands as the sword descended into the space where he had been. A knee to the attacker’s gut, and the man released his blade long enough for Ahrn to take it. As the man folded from the knee strike, Ahrn brought the sword down hard, stabbing into the man’s back.

  The man froze, already dead but not yet knowing it. Ahrn released the sword, which remained as it was, stuck in the other man’s back, then moved his tied hands to the blade. The keen edge slid through his bonds, and he was free.

  Another man came. A snap-kick to the face sent him back into the man behind him, giving Ahrn time to deal with two men attacking from the other side. He side-kicked one man’s blade into the other’s, fouling them up. An elbow to the throat stopped another. Ahrn grabbed that man’s hand, forcing his blade into the attacker next to him, whose wide eyes as he died suggested he’d never suspecting his death blow would come from an ally. Ahrn snapped the first man’s neck and moved on.

  After that, everything else was forgotten in the intense concentration of the fight. His pain, his feelings for Senia, his desire to see old friends alive still, all were subdued to the flow of the movements, the forms of the fight. The flood of the enemy crashed upon him, and he could do nothing by strive to survive.

  CHAPTER 12

  Senia heard the fight and opened her eyes.

  With a quick turn of her head, she took in the room. No one was near her. They were all clustered around Ahrn, who fought desperately, his burned body hampering him little. The amount of will, of strength, it must have taken to fight with such injuries astounded Senia. Inspired, Senia rose to her feet.

  The Guards must not have thought her a threat, or they had felt she would be unconscious for longer as they hadn’t bound her. It would have mattered little anyway as soon as she had called back…

  “Emberthorn.” Feeling with every syllable of the word her strength return to her.

  I’m back! The pure elation in Emberthorn’s voice rocked her with joy, and as her emotions filtered to him as well, the pain, the anticipation of a fight, his enjoyment only grew.

  Let’s go help Ahrn shall we? She could sense the giant grin as he said the words.

  “Yes, let’s.”

  There was something different about this fight. An intensity which was apparent almost immediately. She hadn’t wanted either of the previous two encounters, hadn’t wanted to fight but had been forced to by Emberthorn or by necessity. But, having heard and seen the unbridled cruelty of this wizard, the pleasure he took while inflicting pain, this was a fight she walked into willingly. Something sparked within her which ignited and roared to life within Emberthorn as well. Flames errupted all over the six feet of steel that was Emberthorn’s blade.

  Oh, Senia! You don’t know how good this feels!

  Actually, yes, she did.

  At the fight now, she cut a swath of men away from Ahrn. They fell, dead, their clothes smoldering. A primal need grew within her, to protect, to defend, to defeat those who brought pain and suffering to others.

  Ahrn was forgotten by The Blacklord’s men, no longer a significant threat compared to the she-demon wielding a flaming blade.

  Senia danced. Leaping and spinning around the room. They quickly learned she could take several in one swing if they were close together so they moved apart, darting in on at a time to attack her, or throwing weapons.

  Several ran to get crossbows from a weapons rack in the back corner of the room.

  After felling the last of the foul villains nearby, she leapt to Ahrn’s side. She easily knocked aside a knife thrown her way and said,

  “How are you? I think it best if we left soon. More will come.”

  “I can walk.” The pain in his voice was palpable, heavy.

  “Then let’s do that.”

  She kept an eye on the guards who had run for ranged weapons as the two of them made their way to the back of the room and the large double doors which sealed them in.

  A flash.

  Ahrn screamed.

  His body collapsed beside her, a deep smoking crater in his back exposing burned and blackened bone.

  Bile rose in Senia’s throat. Tears welling in her eyes.

  “No!” she gasped, not enough breath for a scream.

  Turning, she saw Prandol standing again, massaging his jaw, smiling grimly.

  “Something tells me,” he said, voice carrying, “he won’t be going anywhere but straight to the Void.”

  The flames embracing Emberthorn turned blue.

  This is new.

  Senia felt only fire, pure rage, fill her.

  Senia, what are you…? Are you well?

  No.

  Oh.

  “Did I anger the little Scion?” the wizard taunted. Not a brilliant move on his part.

  Two steps, then leaping with preternatural strength, she flew toward him.

  A bright flash seared her eyes. Even blinded she landed with grace, going to one knee as Emberthorn swept through empty space.

  To the right!

  Her hands pulled themselves and Emberthorn toward some attack she still couldn’t see through the black haze over her sight. She sensed the light, the brilliant heat, and even felt the bolt of white-hot light where it hit Emberthorn’s blade, blocked.

  Ow! I had forgotten how much magic hurts.

  Senia stood in one smooth movement, stalking toward the wizard, or at least where she thought he was. She tried to blink away the black spots obscuring her vision, but to no avail.

  Where is he? Guide me.

  To your left now, four more paces… oh?

  What?

  He just vanished.

  “If light can’t find me, then no one can see me. A neat little trick don’t you think?”

  The voice was to her left. She spun in with three quick steps, swinging Emberthorn’s burning blade.

  “Oh, close there, but not quite!”

  It was instinct only that made her raise Emberthorn over her head, blade pointed down, guarding her back. As it was, the wizard’s attack was only partially blocked by the move. Pain, hot and sharp, bit into her back, and she stumbled forward.

  She was starting to regain her vision, but everything was still blurry, and it seemed it wouldn’t matter against this foe anyway.

  She stopped, waiting, on guard, listening.

  With the enhanced senses possessed while in contact with Emberthorn, she could hear the brush of the wizard’s feet on the floor. This was her only recourse. She didn’t know how to fight magic.

  Anything you can do to help?

  I… it’s been so long since I’v
e fought a true wizard with any power. I’m sorry Senia. Just listen.

  So she did.

  The twang of a crossbow was keen in her ears, and her blade burned as it swept the speeding bold from the air. In the next instant, the sizzle of heat warned her of another incoming bolt of light from the wizard, and she spun with the momentum of the heavy blade to block the magical attack.

  Ah! That really hurts.

  Sorry, but better you than me.

  I suppose.

  “Not bad, girl. I will admit I haven’t had this much of a challenge in ages. You are everything my men have told me you’d be. But now it is time to die so I can take that little sword of yours to my master.”

  “I highly doubt that.”

  “You haven’t even really touched me yet, what makes you think you have any chance against me? Just as your friend the monk fell to my magic, so shall you.”

  “I’m waiting.”

  “Wait no more.”

  A barraged of small beams of light streaked toward her.

  Perfect. Just what she had hoped for.

  She blocked all but one, which she spun away from. It put a hole in her blouse, singeing her side.

  More came, as she had expected. She blocked, her blade moving faster than even she could imagine, moving in, stepping closer with each beam of light Emberthorn swept to the side.

  She had him now.

  Her sight might still be poor, but she could see where each beam was coming from, a single source, which was moving slowly to its right, trying to move away from where he had started the barrage at her.

  She moved in, toward the original spot where he’d been, hoping he’d suspect his rouse was working.

  Then, blocking three more beams meant to carve her into pieces, close now, she leapt towards him, slicing with the long reach of her blade through the space he should be.

  He screamed.

  Prandol became visible once more as he fell to the floor, left arm holding the stump of his shoulder where his right arm used to be. He knelt there for a moment, looking at her disbelieving before she removed his head as well.

  She stood over him, breathing hard for a moment.

  Another twang.

  Her left hand caught the crossbow bolt an inch from her head, snapping it. Her speed and strength astonishing even her.

  A deadly silence filled the room.

  “Anyone else want to play?” In that moment, she wanted nothing more than to slay them all.

  The Blacklord’s men fled.

  Her flaming anger faded.

  The fire on Emberthorn went out.

  Senia tossed the broken bolt aside and looked to where Ahrn lay. She rushed to him. Kneeling beside him, she was amazed to see his chest still rising, even if barely.

  She laid a hand on his shoulder, and his one good eye fluttered open.

  A pain wracked smile found his lips.

  He was trying to speak.

  She bent low.

  “Hush, don’t speak,” she said, feeling how weak he was.

  “I…” He winced in pain.

  “Ahrn, no, please, don’t…” Don’t speak, don’t die, don’t leave me, please just don’t…

  “… L… Lo… love…” His eyes closed, his lips going slack.

  His chest still rose, but each breath was ever so shallow.

  Tell me there is something you can do for him!

  I have no powers of healing.

  Is there nothing at all you can do?

  I…

  Please! Hot tears streamed down her cheeks. Please…

  I cannot heal, you need a Daughter of Ehlani or… I don’t know, I’m sorry Senia.

  That sparked an idea. Wait! That’s something. The monks, they know healing. They may be able to help him, but… but they’re still a week away.

  I… There may be something I can do!

  What? Please, quick. She was desperate, she’d take anything.

  When I vanish, I go to a place with no time, nothing at all. I… I may be able to take him with me if I am touching him when you give the command. You won’t have access to me if you want him to live, not for the week it takes to get to the monks, but he’ll be as he is now when you get there.

  I can do it, and… thank you. I know how much you hate that place.

  You’ll owe me for this.

  I already owe you so much.

  You’ll owe me more.

  I know.

  She gently touched the flat of Emberthorn’s blade to the back of Ahrn’s leg and said, “Vanish.”

  Both of them were gone. She was left feeling weak and sick once again.

  Suddenly, the burn on her back grabbed at her, pain throbbing through her. She gritted her teeth, forced herself to stand, and stumbled towards the open doors of the wizard’s hall.

  CHAPTER 13

  T hough her mind wavered, as unsteady as her body, she had sense enough to collect Ahrn’s cloak and pack. She left hers behind. It held only clothes and a few sentimental items, his pack had all the supplies. Since they were of a height, his cloak fit her fairly well, and the addition of the hood would help to disguise her as well as provide added warmth during cool nights in the high hills.

  She encountered no resistance leaving the keep and staggered out of the city as the dimness of twilight faded into full night. When she reached the top of the hill on which the city sat, twinkling lights below, she turned to see if there was any pursuit behind her.

  Without her Scion abilities, it would be near impossible to tell, but her night vision had always been good, and she could see no one following her.

  Exhausted, but unwilling to stop so close to the city, she lurched forward down the other side of the hill.

  She walked through the night. Down one hill, forcing herself up the next. Clouds covered the light of the moon at some point, but she moved onwards. A light rain began, pattering on the oiled cloth of Ahrn’s cloak.

  Perhaps it was the rain’s slow soaking or just her own senses returning to her, but she smelled him then. Ahrn’s scent clung to the cloak, close around her, heavy and comforting. It gave her strength, and she pushed on through the night in the gathering rain.

  The storm broke in full at dawn the next day, pouring water on her as she traversed a long ridge. Even with the gray gloom of the day clustered close to the ground, she could see the iron sides of Maalkin’s Rise disappearing into the clouds far to her right.

  She walked on, putting one foot in front of the other, her strides becoming short and weak until her legs began to ache and she wanted nothing more than to rest. By this point, it was close to evening once again, the dark day fading to a darker night.

  She found shelter under the boughs of a full and wide cedar. She huddled in her cloak on the bed of needles next to the trunk. Most of the rain cascaded outward over the clustered branches above. Dry for now, and warm enough, she fell asleep.

  She awoke to the crack of thunder as the storm intensified. She ate a few bites from the half loaf of bread and two strips of dried meat that remained of their food. It would have to last her a week. Her stomach growled and heaved, warily accepting the food despite the sting of her wounds and the disorientation pervading her mind and body with the separation from Emberthorn.

  She had no idea how long she had slept, but it was day once again, if grim and dour, clouds clinging to the hills. Not even the mountains were visible.

  The rain was even worse than before, and within an hour of leaving her shelter, she was soaked through.

  Cold, tired, and hungry, she knew only that she needed to keep moving.

  During one of their many discussions of what lay ahead, Ahrn had mentioned that past the hills there was a long valley with a forest. She knew she would be roughly on the right path as long as she wasn’t heading higher up into the mountains.

  When the storm scudded away at the end of the day, she could see the mountains still on her right, tall and stoic.

  With the scent of him still clinging close
, filling his cloak, she thought of Ahrn. Unbidden came the memory of the night, after their battle around the oak tree, when he had held her close, kissed her. She remembered what he had said with his final few breaths in the wizard’s hall… ‘love’. Could it truly be?

  He’d been so distant after their kiss. Could he really feel as she felt?

  Cresting a rise, she encountered a biting north wind, sucking the air and all other thoughts from her. She fled down the hill hoping to escape it, but it found her, funneling and blustering through the valley.

  She found no shelter that night and simply tried to sleep on the cold earth under the open sky, but the wailing wind chilled her soaked clothes, and her teeth were chattering before long. She rose again, hoping movement would warm her. Legs weary, and ready to fail, she climbed yet another hill.

  And another… and another…

  Her thoughts became a torrent, whirling like the wind from one place to the next. From Emberthorn to Ahrn, her life before and the death she had dealt. Dark and light, night and day, all seemed blurred before her.

  When next she came to herself, the sun was up, but the brutal wind had not let up. Between the sun and the wind, her cloak was mostly dry by mid-day, but when she removed it to let her shirt and skirt also dry, she found the wind too intense, shivering and trembling with the chill, feeling exposed, naked to its touch.

  Instead, she found a small copse of trees, which sheltered her from the wind and provided enough dead branches to start a fire with Ahrn’s flint and striker. She hung the cloak over the fire first, ensuring it was dry and warm, then stripped off her clothes, hanging them to hiss and steam in the rising smoke, huddled in the warmth of the cloak.

  Night fell, and she ate another small supper. Too tired and worn to restrict herself, she ate all the meat and all but a small chunk of the bread before she realized what she had done. She ate the remaining bread, uncaring. Her thoughts were a shambles, as was her life, it seemed. She dressed again, clothes warm and smoky, but when she placed Ahrn’s cloak around her once more, still heady with his scent it was too much for her. Despite the comfort of warm garments, she wept. All she loved had been taken from her, her family, a man she barely knew but who her soul cried out for, and her companion, her twin, her sword. She had nothing in this moment, empty and eternally alone. Finally, well past exhaustion, she fell asleep, rivulets of hot tears still wet on her cheeks.