How to Bond a Mage (Heir of Dragons Book 3)

by J. A. Culican

  Whoa... Minx loaded another, sizing him up carefully. That arrow was different; it brought him back to his senses. It made a deeper wound, too. That'll be harder for him to treat—if he survives, that is. She nodded at him, giving the bow a little shake. “There's more where that came from. Surrender, now.”

  The hunter gazed at the arrow that had stunned him and then cast a harsh look at his assailant, the black ceremonial tattoo on his cheek seeming paler for the rude shock of the attack, and the bone mask he wore on the other half of his face drooping. “If I surrender, he'll kill me,” he replied flatly. With a grunt, he rose to his feet and wrapped a palm around the fresh wound on his shoulder. He seemed to be inviting her to take the shot; to execute him. He closed his eyes, stiffening in anticipation of the blow. He knew he'd been bested, and that he wouldn't be able to survive a second of those enhanced arrows. The peculiar properties of the mysterious metal had damaged him greatly, and had interfered with his wild, offensive state. Having returned to cognizance with another arrow trained on him and a severe wound in his shoulder, he couldn't hope to mount a suitable defense.

  She couldn't do it, though. Minx had destroyed countless Wuffs, Plurn, Krah and others in the war, but as the hunter stood before her, a beaten man, she couldn't simply execute him. It felt too barbarous, and she lowered her weapon with a sigh.

  The hunter opened his eyes, offering a sharp grin. “Can't do it?”

  Minx tongued her molars with annoyance. “I'd rather not. If you plan to keep attacking, I won't have a choice.” She looked to the distance, beyond the burning tents. “Suppose you started walking in that direction and never turned back... Suppose I spare you on the condition that you fight on our side—or, at least, end your participation in this war... Could I trust you to do that?” Thinking better of it, she raised the bow again, testing the string. “Maybe not.”

  The hunter winced, his shoulder ailing him. “Fight alongside you? No, I won't take up arms against Torrent. He's too formidable. But on second thought...” He stared at the nocked arrow with clear discomfort. “Perhaps I could disappear, yes. Get lost somewhere. And perhaps, too, I could offer you some useful information.”

  “Oh?” Minx backed off a bit, unloading her bow. “Why don't you tell me why it is you helped Torrent in the first place? Why are you fighting on his side? Are you pleased with what he's doing to the world?”

  “Pleased? No,” he replied, tangled hair swaying across his face. “I side with power. Torrent is the greatest power in all of Aleio. The decision was an easy one. If war is breaking out across the continent, it's better to be on the winning side, no? Me and my men nearly made an enemy of Torrent early on in the conflict, so when pressed, we joined up with him to save our hides. That's the short version, anyhow. But enough about that. You and your friends have no idea what you're up against. You'll exhaust yourselves fighting his footmen before you even get a chance to face-off against Torrent personally. I can tell you where to find him, though...”

  “You can?” Minx arched a brow. “Somehow, I don't feel like I can believe you. Why should I trust you?”

  “Helping you out on the battlefield isn't in my best interest,” said the hunter, grinning. “But between you and me, I'm interested to see how Torrent likes being hit by one of those arrows. I support your defeating him, even if I think it's unlikely. So, let me give you a bit of information as to his current whereabouts. Use it, get a jump on him—and if you somehow win out, maybe we'll meet again someday, in a freer world.”

  Minx was disgusted at the hunter's attitude. “The only way we're going to have a freer world is if we fight for it. If you really dislike Torrent as much as you claim, you ought to fight. What kind of coward sits out a battle for the whole continent?”

  “This kind,” was the hunter's rejoinder, and he hiked a thumb at himself. “Now, do we have a deal, or not?”

  “Where is he?” demanded Minx.

  “You'll find Torrent's encampment a few miles from here, on the eastern side of the fallen Trading Center. He has a battalion of well-trained Wuffs and Plurn with him at all times—they're a vigilant bunch. There are Krah, too... He won't be expecting you, as he only took up residence in that camp last night. He dispatched me himself, sent me out here to raid the area once the spell-casters had busted down your native defenses. I'm sure he's still there, waiting for the barriers to fall. When they do, he's planning a massive invasion. He hasn't begun gathering his forces yet, however. They're scattered around the continent and it will take time for him to round them up. He's about as vulnerable as he ever will be, and a theoretical defeat at this moment could break up his army permanently...”

  Minx considered this intel for a time, her pulse racing. The shields are almost down as we speak. I don't know if I can trust him, but if this information is true, we might be able to attack Torrent before the barriers come down and he orders his invasion. It's risky, but... what other choice have we got?

  “Drop your weapons,” she demanded. “All of them. When you've done so, leave this place and never come back.”

  The hunter reached gravely beneath his cloaks of fur and carefully undid several leathern clasps. He shedded the cloaks first, revealing the many sheaths and weapons he kept tied to his body. Unfastening the belts, he allowed all of them to drop to the ground. A large hammer struck the earth, a few blades clanged against one another as they tumbled, and before long he was left with only his leathern armor and the filthy tunic underneath. Raising his hands in a gesture of surrender, he began to turn around, showing that he'd shed his every weapon. “That's the last of it.”

  “Now, walk,” ordered Minx, loading the bow again. “And if you so much as turn around, I'll cut you down where you stand.”

  The hunter turned his back to her and began shuffling into the distance. “I hope it goes well for you,” he uttered with a dry laugh. “Perhaps we'll cross paths again some day, when the world is sane again.”

  Minx shook her head as if offended by the idea. If we ever meet again, I probably won't be as merciful as I was this time. She watched him walk off, and kept an eye on him till his form began to fade into the far-off scenery. Finally confident that he wouldn't attempt a surprise attack, she returned the arrow to her quiver and started across the burning camp to reunite with the others—but not before reclaiming the special arrow that had done the hunter in. She picked it up, inspecting its tip, and was stunned to find it clear of gore. The metal still glittered, and it had lost none of its sharpness. Though ordinarily she would never re-use an arrow except in an emergency situation, she couldn't bring herself to discard the thing. Looks like I can get more than one shot out of these!

  Kaleb met her near the front of the line, where a few of the dragons had gathered to talk with the First. The orange dragon from earlier had returned to his human form, and was still panting for the ferocious attack he'd launched against the camp. The surviving Zuscha—what few of them there were—had been stripped of their weapons and rounded up.

  “Where were you, Minx?” asked Kaleb, jogging over to her. “I lost sight of you for a bit there! I was afraid you'd succumbed to friendly fire. I wish you hadn't run off like that while we were destroying the camp.”

  “I'm all right,” she insisted with an uneasy smile. “I was just having a word with our old friend.”

  “The hunter?” he asked, brow furrowing. “What happened to him? You take him out?”

  “Not quite,” she replied, face reddening a bit. “I actually let him go.”

  The dragon shifter stared at her with wide eyes, appearing startled. “You, uh... you let him escape? At a time like this? What were you thinking?”

  “I'm wondering the same thing myself,” she conceded. “I tried one of my new arrows out on him and could have finished him off. I decided to let him leave, though—in exchange for some intel. He had some insights into Torrent's current location and future plans. I figured his life was worth the trade—and I made him drop all of his weapons beforehan
d.”

  At this, Kaleb noticeably brightened. “All right, now you've got my attention. Where's Torrent hiding?”

  “There's an encampment near the Trading Center's eastern wall. Supposedly, he transferred there last night, along with some particularly tough Wuffs and others. He's planning a massive invasion, and will likely rally the whole of his army the moment the wards come down. Just as we feared, that's all he's been waiting for, and even as we speak, he and the Krah spell-casters are certainly working on it.” Minx laughed to herself, adding, “It didn't sound like Torrent and the hunter had a very good working relationship. I tried to get him to fight alongside us, rather than sending him off, but he wouldn't have it—he was too scared of his old boss and didn't think he could be defeated. But with these weapons and the element of surprise... I believe we may have a chance.”

  The First, listening in, was energized by this news and ordered the dragons back into position. “We march for the Trading Center, then! We can't delay for even a moment.” Entrusting the prisoners of war to a few of his guards, he returned to the fore of the battalion and urged them onward. “If we maintain a good clip, we can make it in an hour's time. Move!”

  Kaleb and Minx fell back into formation, marching for the ruins of the Trading Center.

  The odds they faced remained long, but in the hunter's intel they had come upon a morsel of potentially immense value. They were, Minx hoped, headed straight for the grand finale to this devastating war—a final struggle against Torrent himself.

  But could the hunter have lied? Can we really trust him? she wondered latterly as they crossed the punished fields.

  Chapter 27

  “So, the arrow worked well, eh?” asked Kaleb as they marched on.

  Minx thought back to her battle with the hunter, still stunned at the effectiveness of her new weapon. “We fought him once, at his camp. Do you remember?”

  “Not really...” he admitted. “He clocked me in the head pretty hard.”

  Minx chuckled. “Well, take my word for it. When we fought him, he went into this... uncontrollable state, just totally berserk. When I met him just now, he did the same—when threatened, he flew into this animalistic rage, and he was almost too much to handle. I shot him with two arrows, but they didn't do a thing to him, barely slowed him down. When I switched to the new arrows, though... he snapped out of it. It left a deep, terrible wound and he backed off immediately after being hit. I don't want to get my hopes up, but it's possible that Torrent will react similarly. What do you think? Will these finally do him in?”

  Kaleb smirked, offering a toss of the shoulders. “If you can hit him. Remember, Torrent is good at avoiding them. I don't think you've ever landed a single arrow against him, have you?”

  This seeming criticism of her marksmanship left her fuming, and she socked his upper arm. “Yeah, well, your track record against him is hardly anything to boast about, either.” With a sour frown, she continued, “These arrows aren't like the old ones. The tips are sharper and harder. And... maybe I'm wrong, but the metal could have special properties to it. Know what I mean? When the hunter was struck by my normal arrows, he shrugged them off. These new arrows, though... it only took one. It brought him back to his senses, almost as if...”

  “Almost as if it drove the evil out of him?” chanced Kaleb, finishing her sentence. “I mean, anything's possible. These weapons were quenched in water from Gloirs' spring, and the metal itself came from my ancestors in the distant past. We've already seen that water do great things for your father; who's to say that it won't have a dramatic effect on our enemies?”

  “Sure, but we tried to spray Torrent with it once, remember? The spring water didn't faze him in the least,” countered Minx.

  Kaleb nodded. “You're right. Maybe it's the metal, then—or the metal and the spring water working together. I doubt my ancestors would have left this strange metal with Winterlimb all those years ago if they didn't think it could be used to purge the world of evil.”

  The First led the legion with great enthusiasm, beaming with excitement at this new plan. They had set out from the protected lands with a mind toward wandering; their initial foray had promised numberless sorties with scattered cells of dark warriors and no guarantee of a timely meeting with Torrent on the battlefield. It had been a risky play with poor chances of their desired payoff. Now, with a firm destination in mind, he was energized. “How many men are stationed with him?” he asked Minx. “Did this hunter say?”

  “I don't have an exact number,” she admitted. “He described it as a battalion. We may find that our numbers are even once we meet them, though I'm told the members of this force are particularly tough. I'm not sure how our recruits will hold up against that kind of enemy...”

  The First waved her off with annoyance. “Oh, come now, they'll perform well! Have some faith in your people! However unseasoned, the Fae are a powerful race—nimble and skilled at war. We will persevere. Of that I haven't the least doubt.”

  Minx cracked a grin listening to his prideful spiel, and acquiesced with a nod. There was no sense in her arguing; it would only be bad for morale. The First's gung-ho attitude was particularly amusing to her because—up until recently—she, herself, had spoken of the Fae in precisely that way. Having met many other races on the battlefield had been sobering; though she loved her people, her estimation of them as unstoppable warriors had understandably faltered as of late. I hope he's right, at any rate.

  The First suddenly slowed down, something to the west drawing his gaze. “What's this?” he uttered, taking hold of his sword's hilt. “An enemy force?”

  Kaleb and Minx looked westward, where a mass of what appeared to be armed warriors was headed their way. There were not a few of them; initial guesses from Kaleb, the First and others put them at several dozens—perhaps a hundred or more. This force's movements seemed somewhat leisurely compared to the swift march of the Fae, though at discovering the First and his men in the distance, their pace had quickened substantially. They were now on a collision course.

  “Prepare for battle,” shouted the First, drawing his longsword. “This may be a wave sent by Torrent to stall us. Is it possible that he's heard of our movements? That he's left the encampment outside of the Trading Center?”

  Kaleb studied the incoming warriors narrowly. “They're all Wuffs,” he said. “I don't see a Krah or even a Plurn among them. It's just Wuffs.”

  Minx drew an arrow, nocking it pensively. “Why are they coming this way? They can't hope to overpower us with those numbers. Are they just a distraction, or...?” Her own study of the Wuffs yielded something of interest. Stepping past Kaleb, she looked to the lead of the pack—and singled out what seemed to be a familiar face. “Hold on, is that...” She apologized profusely to the First and then continued across the field a short while, preparing to meet the incoming force head-on. She kept her bow at the ready, but didn't take aim, instead studying the form of the vixen standing at the very forefront of the mob.

  It was Valry. The young Wuff vixen, armed with a longsword and commanding her skulk of males, recognized Minx across the way and greeted her with a wave of her clawed hand. “Fancy meeting you here,” she called out.

  “V-Valry? What are you doing here?” Whether the vixen's presence here was something to celebrate remained to be seen; when last they'd crossed paths, Valry had been leaving Torrent's employ. She had abandoned the Dark Mage with some of her fellow Wuffs in tow, unwilling to serve him any longer, though she'd expressed fear that the magical influence of Torrent's amulet would possibly draw them back into the fray against their will. Had such a thing come to pass? Were these Wuffs now set to fight on Torrent's side, despite Valry's prior unwillingness?

  Noting the alarm in Minx's expression, the vixen cackled. “Relax, will you? We aren't here for trouble. In fact, we want to lend a hand—if you'll have us. We want to help you fight against Torrent. He is the one you're on your way to visit, isn't he?”

  “You want to
... help?” Minx looked back to the First, and to Kaleb. “Us?” She could hardly believe her ears. Surely this was some kind of elaborate plot meant to infiltrate and weaken the Fae forces. This was Valry, after all—the one who'd kickstarted Minx's trouble in the first place. She'd been the one who'd kidnapped her mother, who'd joined with Torrent and brought him countless Wuff foot soldiers. Now she was on their side?

  “Don't act so surprised,” replied the vixen. “I told you that we'd had enough of Torrent, remember? We've been on the wrong side of this for far too long and we want to stop him. If you don't want to work with us, I get it, but... you're going to need all the help you can get.” She and her men stopped several feet from Minx. She ran her clawed fingers through ribbons of silvery hair and sported a mischievous grin. “We felt bad and decided to chip in; Torrent's only managed to get this far because we fell under his control in the first place. We've got a score to settle with that jerk, so why not let bygones be bygones and crush him together?”

  The offer was more than a little tempting. Would that Minx could have simply let go of the past. Her mother's death, and the chaos the Wuffs had wrought across the land were not just water under the bridge to her, however. “I... I'm glad you're not working with Torrent,” she began. “But after all that's happened, how can you expect us to form an alliance with you? After everything you've done...” Anger and sadness welled up in her; it was almost too much to handle.

  “Torrent has been pulling our strings, just as he's been pulling yours,” replied Valry. “Our people were every bit as scared of him as yours, and we fell into line to save ourselves. It was easier to work with him than it was to work against him. That doesn't make everything OK, and I don't expect you to welcome us with open arms. But if we can forego fighting against one another and focus on the real threat, then maybe we can win. What do you say?”

  “I say, 'welcome aboard',” answered the First, arriving at Minx's side with a wide smile. “This war has upended the whole of Aleio. We need all the help we can get, and cannot allow old grudges to threaten our chances of victory.” He placed a hand on Minx's shoulder, giving it an encouraging squeeze. “We began this war as enemies of the Wuffs. Better for both our races—and for future generations—that we end it as friends, no?”