Battle of Illaria: Book Three of the Illaria Series

by Dyan Chick

  "I guess we better get walking," Ashton said. "The rest of the group has to be there by now."

  Master Flanders shook his head. "Not yet."

  Ashton narrowed his eyes at him. "What do you mean? We have to get back to them. They won't wait long."

  Master Flanders rested his hand on Ashton's shoulder and guided him to a fallen tree. "Sit, I'll heal you first, then we can go. If we run into trouble, I need you to be able to fight."

  "You're not going to be able to help anyone if you're in the bushes throwing up," Celeste said.

  Ashton wanted to argue, but he looked at the little group around him. They had a powerful master sorcerer, two sorcerers who had only passed their first round of trials, and a warrior. If they ran into a group of sorcerers or more undead, they needed him to be ready. Reluctantly, he sat on the log. Celeste sat down next to him.

  Master Flanders lifted his hands and moved them through the air, hovering around Ashton's body. Ashton felt warmth travel through him as Master Flanders worked. The pain in his head began to lessen and his vision cleared. A wave of relief washed over him.

  "Thank you," Ashton said.

  Master Flanders smiled. "You're lucky it was just a bump on the head."

  Ashton reached behind his head and felt the area where the lump had been. His hand ran over his hair, sticky and matted with drying blood. The bump was gone. He shook his head. "That's amazing."

  Master Flanders smiled at the younger sorcerers. "You two did well considering," he said. "When we have some time after this mess, let's work on your training. I think I can get you two ready for the next round of trials."

  "Better?" Saffron walked over to the group of sorcerers. Her blonde curls were a tangle of blood and dirt, her face scratched and bruised. Ashton was guessing he looked about the same. The sooner they could get Etta to Gallia to get that army and end this war with the king, the better. Ashton shivered as he recalled the touch of the gray hands of the dead. He could happily go the rest of his life without seeing another one of those creatures. Facing off against sorcerers seemed easier. At least with them, there weren't more crawling out of buildings and flooding the streets.

  "Let's get back home," he said.

  They walked silently with careful footsteps through the dark woods. The progress was slow in the faint starlight. They couldn't risk illumination for fear that it would alert their enemies to their location.

  In the distance, the trees looked to be thinning and Ashton's heart leapt at the sight. The barn was located in cleared farmland next to the woods. They had to be close.

  In front of him, Master Flanders stopped walking and put his arm out to stop everybody's progress. Ashton was just about to ask what was going on when he felt it, the unmistakable tingle of magic began in his fingertips and quickly spread though his whole body. There was magic at use nearby, lots of it. A bright light illuminated the darkness. Sorcerer Fire.

  His heart began to hammer wildly in his chest and panic rose inside him. Etta. Ignoring Master Flanders and the others, he ran toward the fire.

  Ashton shielded his face with his arm from the intense heat as he ran toward the burning barn. His heart was in his throat as he yelled Etta's name. There was no time to think about strategy, his passion took over, blinding him. When he reached the barn he jumped through the flames, searching inside for any survivors. A frantic horse nearly trampled him as he ran through the barn.

  She's not here, he thought. He struggled to regain control of his emotions as the sense of panic lessened. Reality began to sink in. Sorcerer fire was climbing up the walls of the barn, Max had to be here. His pulse raced. Max tried to kill Etta.

  Ashton felt the heat rise from within him, forcing his fire to surface. Flames licked at his palms, as if they had a mind of their own. He was pure anger and passion. Not stopping to consider what Max could do to him if he let his emotions get the better of him, he charged in.

  As he reached the doorway, the flames faded. A startled horse barreled past him into the night. The only illumination came from the fire emanating from his own hands. In the glow, he could make out a form. His lip raised in a snarl. This had gone on long enough. Somebody had to teach Max a lesson. He took a few deep breaths, aware now of his emotions running wild, and tried to reign them back in before he faced his opponent.

  Then, the figures multiplied. Suddenly there were four. Ashton froze. He hadn't been looking at Max. The figures floated unnaturally. Mingled with the scent of the fire was the rotting corpse smell of the Reapers. The dark hollows under their hoods where their faces should be were all facing him. His stomach tightened. Swallowing back his fear, he raised his arms. All he could do was hope he could make enough fire to send them away long enough to escape.

  Fire was their only weakness, but he didn't know how much it would take to scare them away. Every time he'd faced the Reapers, he had Etta with him. Her arctic fire was so much stronger against the undead creatures.

  He took a deep breath and just as he was going to let loose his flames, the ground shook, sending him tumbling to the ground and extinguishing his flames. He pushed himself upright and reignited his fire, turning in the direction of the Reapers. They were no longer moving toward him. They were floating away toward a new target, somebody of greater importance than Ashton.

  Ashton remembered that the Reapers were usually sent after specific people. It appeared they weren't here for him. They were after somebody else. If Etta's not here, they were after somebody in their group. Who did the king want dead enough to send his Reapers?

  A memory flashed through Ashton's mind in a second. He was four years old. The little princess was in his grandmother's arms. An old man stood over her, long grey hair tied in a tail at the base of his head. He was only there for a few minutes before he vanished in a cloud of smoke. A shiver ran down his spine. The old man had to be Master Flanders. He must have been casting the protection spell on Etta before she was smuggled into hiding. He'd tried so long to suppress the memories of that day that he never stopped to think about the details. Master Flanders was the key to Etta's survival. Ashton ran toward the Reapers.

  Ashton's breath came out in heavy pants and he squinted to see better through the darkness. There were two people surrounded by Reapers and the monsters were closing in. He raised his hands, calling his fire from deep within and released.

  The Reapers made an inhuman scream as his fire burned their robes. They turned away from their victims and floated toward him. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he continued to push fire through his hands.

  A rush of wind hit him and he lost his balance. Ashton turned to the direction of the wind and saw a dark hooded figure walking toward him. Max. Ashton's whole body tensed and his nostrils flared as Max's form came into clearer view. The last time he'd seen his old friend, Max had almost killed Ashton by sending his essence to the Astral Realm. Now, Max was after Etta. For a moment, Ashton considered charging Max, ignoring the rest of the threats around them. But he'd been trained too well to make decisions based on anger.

  Ashton looked between the Reapers who had turned their attention away from him, to Max. He didn't know where he should be aiming his attack. Before he could make a final decision, another figure emerged out of the corner of his eye.

  In a blur, a dagger flew through the air, just missing Max's shoulder. Ashton realized Saffron was standing not far from Max, sword drawn. She was waiting for him. Max gave one last glance at Ashton, then turned and walked toward Saffron.

  Glancing away from Max for a moment, Ashton saw Master Flanders and Celeste battling the Reapers, both of them creating weak flames to try to fend them off. Neither of them were aligned with fire so their magic was gaining them little progress against the monsters.

  The sound of steel on steel rang out and Ashton looked over to see that Saffron and Max were engaged in sword-to-sword combat. Ashton hoped Saffron was ready to take on Max and turned away, racing toward the Reapers. Despite the power Max held, Ashton thought the
four Reapers closing in on his other friends were an even greater threat. As he closed in on the fight, he threw a fireball at the Reaper nearest him, just missing. The fire caught on the ground, spreading quickly, illuminating the darkness.

  Ashton leapt over the burning ground and slid between two of the Reapers surrounding his friends. The three of them were now surrounded by the creatures. They would have to work together to send them back to their master, or wherever it was the Reapers retreated to. Ashton wished there was a way to kill them but other than the theory about Etta's arctic fire, they hadn't found another way.

  "Celeste, use your air to feed Master Flanders' fire," Ashton called out. Next to him, Master Flanders released a modest flame and Celeste fed it with a burst of air. The flames grew until they rivaled one of Ashton's own.

  Ashton turned to face the Reapers who were on the other side of them, launching fireballs at them without pausing for breath. He was getting tired but the adrenaline flowing through him was helping to mask some of the fatigue.

  The ground rumbled again and a large piece of earth shot up under one of the Reapers, sending it flying. Ashton turned his fire on that Reaper, hoping it let its guard down enough for his flames to get through. The fire caught on its robes and flames engulfed it. It let out a haunting scream that echoed inside Ashton's head. He had to fight back the urge to cover his ears. The flames turned to black smoke, and the Reaper was gone. They'd managed to send one of them away.

  Ashton's spirits rose. If they did it to one of them, they could get rid of the rest. "Again!"

  Master Flanders called another piece of earth up from the ground, throwing a second Reaper skyward. Ashton released his fire and Celeste threw air behind his flames. It burned so bright, it looked like daylight for a moment as they lit up the sky. The Reaper was instantly engulfed in orange and yellow, vanishing in the same black smoke as the other one.

  There were only two Reapers left now. Ashton narrowed his eyes and took aim, throwing his fire at them with everything he had. Celeste and Master Flanders both sent air behind his flames, strengthening them beyond anything Ashton could ever imagine. He had to turn away as the flames grew white-hot.

  He had to let go of the flames to catch his breath. When he looked back, the Reapers were gone. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he glanced down at his destroyed tunic. In all the years of using his magic, he'd never called this much fire in one evening. He'd been training his whole life to do defensive magic, to be able to fight against the king and those under his command. Tonight had been the most he'd ever used it. He wasn't as proud of himself as he thought he'd be. There was something hollow in fighting the dead but that feeling would have to wait. The battle wasn't over yet.

  10

  Ashton

  Spinning around, Ashton searched the darkness for the fight he had left behind. "Where's Max?"

  "There!" Celeste pointed.

  Max and Saffron were silhouetted against the blaze of the barn. Neither party looked to be showing any signs of weakness as they attacked each other with steel. Ashton hesitated for a moment, eyes narrowed on his old teacher. Max wasn't using any magic in his fight with Saffron. He'd always told Ashton that there was no point in learning how to use a sword, sorcerers were their own weapons. Ashton couldn't even remember ever seeing Max practice with any weapons in all the years they'd lived in the same camp. Saffron, on the other hand, was an expert swordsman. She should have no problem defeating Max.

  They were both holding back. It was the only explanation for what he was seeing.

  "We should help her," Celeste said.

  Ashton put his arm out to stop her. "No, I don't think they'll hurt each other. If we go over there, it could make it worse."

  "I'll get her out of here," Master Flanders said. "You two, teleport to the old Raven camp. I'll meet you there."

  Just as Ashton opened his mouth to protest, Master Flanders yelled, "Now!"

  Celeste reached out and gripped Ashton's hand. "I don't know where that is, you'll have to take us."

  Ashton closed his eyes and imagined the archery range at the old camp. The place where he first kissed Etta. A tug in his stomach pulled at him as his feet left the ground.

  They landed hard on uneven ground, knocking them both down. Ashton helped Celeste up and they both brushed the dirt off of their hands as they looked around. They were back at the old camp. The place where Ashton had grown up. The place where he had fallen in love.

  He shook the nostalgia from his mind. It wasn't the time to dwell. He turned to Celeste. "You alright?"

  "I'm fine," she said. "Do you think it would be safe to get some light here?"

  The thick trees blocked the starlight, making it darker than it had been in the other woods. Ashton conjured a small fireball in his hand and held it out to Celeste. Her face was bruised and covered in scrapes. He pushed her hair off of her forehead and lowered his eyebrows in concern. "You sure you're alright?"

  She batted his hand away. "I'm fine. Just a few scrapes." She looked around the abandoned archery range. "So this is where you grew up?"

  He nodded. "This is it, my old home."

  She looked at the archery shed, he followed her gaze. An ache filled his whole body when he saw the place where he had first kissed Etta. He didn't want to look at it anymore.

  "Come on," Ashton said. "We should probably go wait in the common area. That's the most likely place they'll teleport."

  "Why'd you teleport here?" She asked, then caught herself. "This is the archery range, isn't it?"

  Ashton nodded and started to walk away.

  "That's where you first kissed Etta," she said.

  He stopped walking and turned to look at her. "How'd you know that?"

  "Girls talk about things, Ashton. Etta's my friend." She gave him a sly smile. "I bet I know more than you realize."

  Ashton shook his head. He was happy Celeste and Etta got along so well, but it was strange to know they discussed him when he wasn't around. "Great, now my girlfriend and my best friend are talking about me behind my back."

  Celeste patted his shoulder as they walked. "Don't worry, it's a good thing. She's madly in love with you, you know."

  Ashton smiled. He knew that, already, but in the midst of all of the changes going on in their lives, it was nice to think that Etta had shared that with someone else. His smile faded. "I hope she's safe."

  "Me too," Celeste whispered.

  They rest of the walk to the common area was silent, both of them too lost in their own heads to speak. As they approached the clearing, they heard voices. Ashton picked up his pace and Celeste followed suit.

  "Thank the gods," Celeste said as Master Flanders and Saffron came into view.

  Saffron had an arm across her chest, holding on to her shoulder. Her face was distorted in pain.

  "What happened?" Ashton asked. He held the fireball up so he could see her more clearly.

  She winced in pain and turned her face away from the light. "Don't worry about it let's just get back."

  "It will take me a few minutes to make a new coin to get us into the camp," Master Flanders said. "Celeste, check on Saffron's wound."

  Celeste moved to Saffron without hesitation and the two women walked to one of the tables.

  "Ashton." Master Flanders lifted his chin. "Come over here. I want to show you how to do this just in case I'm not around to help."

  Ashton wondered what was going on inside the old man's head as he hurried to catch up to him. "I thought you couldn't learn to make these coins until you passed the next round of trials."

  Master Flanders led the two of them to the space previously occupied by the blacksmith. The only remnants of its previous inhabitant were a few workbenches and a large fire pit. He set a wooden circle the size of the other coins that were used for teleportation on the edge of the fire pit, then looked at Ashton. "If we don't stop the king soon, there won't be any guild to monitor those rules. Now, pay attention."

  "Wait," Ashton said
. "Before you start that, can I ask you something?"

  He looked at Ashton and waited in silence.

  "That day." Ashton took a deep breath. He'd never told anyone the story of the day his grandmother had smuggled the princess away from her home. Until he had the flash of a memory during the battle, he had almost managed to convince himself that it wasn't real. "The day Etta was brought to my house. You were there, weren't you?"

  "I wondered if you even remembered that. You were so young." Master Flanders sighed. "How much do you recall?"

  For the first time in a long time, Ashton let the memories wash over him. He clenched his teeth as he pictured the guards breaking down his door. His hands squeezed into fists as he recalled his mother's fire being swallowed up by the Reapers that dragged her body away. "All of it. After my grandmother took the princess, the guards came. They brought the Reapers. My mother..."

  Master Flanders set his hand on Ashton's shoulder. "I hoped you'd forgotten it all. Your mother was a very powerful sorceress and your father fought valiantly at the Battle of the Dead. They would be so proud of you."

  Ashton cleared his throat. He didn't want to remember any of it, but he had to know. "You're the one who cast the protection spell, aren't you?"

  Master Flanders nodded, his face serious. "Yes, Ashton. That's why it's so important for you two to learn as much as you can from me in the time we have left."

  "Why do you keep saying things like that?" Ashton shook his head. If Master Flanders dies, the protection spell is broken and the king himself can kill Etta.

  "Ashton, I've lived a long life. Even if the king wasn't trying to kill me, my days would be numbered. But he suspects that I'm the sorcerer who cast the spell and you can only outrun the Reapers for so long before your luck runs out."

  He touched his index finger to the wooden circle. "It's time for me to make my peace and make the most of the time I have left."