Enemies and Allies (Bound to the Abyss Book 3)

by James R. Vernon

  When the Voice finally grew quiet, the weight of his words seemed to stifle the air. The pride Kaytlin had felt moments before had been replaced by a dread that made her blood run cold. A legion of questions took form in her mind and threatened to overwhelm her. One look at the man standing before her, bruised and barely standing, gave her the strength to push all of her feelings and questions aside.

  "Most Holy, let me take you to someone to see to your injuries."

  "It is nothing." When Kaytlin made to protest, he raised a silencing hand again. "My injuries are my penance for neglecting my duties. The bruise on my face is for my ignorance in seeing such a great threat and not listening to you. The blood from my ears . . . well, hearing the voice of our god is strain enough. Hearing his voice when it is laced with anger and disappointment is more than a mortal body can take after a few moments. Both injuries will heal."

  "I am sorry--"

  "For what? Holding true to your faith? Not pressing an old man who is supposed to know better than you what goes on in the world? Alistar has bestowed a great deal of honor upon you this day. Do not lessen it by taking the blame for my mistakes. The only comfort I need for my wounds comes from the fact that I am still allowed to serve our great deity as his Voice."

  "Still--"

  "There is no time to worry about my health. I will leave and continue to serve. Time is of the essence. You must be on your way as soon as possible. Ask one or two questions you feel are most pertinent. I will answer what I can and then you must head out at once."

  The army of questions returned, overrunning the concern she had for the man in front of her. Trying to organize her thoughts, she chose the questions she felt were most important.

  "How am I to enter those Plague-infested lands?"

  "The amulet you wear that protects you from the energy of the Abyss will guard you from the corruption in the Deadlands as well. Wear it at all times and you will not have to fear sharing the fate of the Living Dead that live in the north."

  "Will Olleander or EliZane join me?"

  "No. Alistar was very clear on this. Those two will remain to continue protecting this realm. With a new heir to the Plaguebringer's power in the world, the threat of Scars opening throughout the land has increased. The destruction of Ean will be for nothing if you return to a land riddled with Scars and their resulting twisting of the world."

  "But I have already faced him alone and lost--"

  "And learned from the mistakes you made. Alistar has faith that you will prove triumphant in your next meeting with the man and his followers. You must be victorious."

  "The Deadlands are almost as big as Ven Khilada. How can I track one man? Even my amulet will be of little help detecting his power when the entire realm in the north is blanketed in a form of Abyssmal energy."

  "Start here."

  With a flick of his wrist, Waytan sent the parchment that had been resting on the altar rolling towards her. Opening it with both hands, she found a map of not only Ven Khilada but of what appeared to be the Deadlands as well. The details seemed to have been burned into the parchment. A single mark the size of a large man's fingerprint was scorched into a spot along the border of the two realms, north and slightly east of Lurthalan.

  "Around that mark is where you must start your hunt for the man. Something will mark his passing. From there, Alistar will give you what aid he can but do not expect much. Just know our deity believes in you."

  "Yes, Most Holy."

  "Then go. You alone have been charged with saving us all from this new threat. All of our prayers go with you."

  Chapter 19

  Beginning of the Freeze Season, 184 A.P.

  After seven days of traveling, Ean's group found themselves at the edge of the Deadlands.

  If anyone doubted that the Plague was anything but magical, all they had to do was come to any place along the border. A thick purple mist stretched from the ground straight up into the sky and as far as the eye could see to both the east and west. It twisted and moved about, folding in on itself. Green, frost-covered grass became a dark blue and purple color on the other side of the invisible border. The occasional twisted tree or odd-looking plant came into view for a moment then disappeared as the fog swallowed it back up. The mist pressed up against an invisible wall, like water flowing against a piece of glass.

  Ean had been in that mist before. The corrupted Abyssmal energy had tried to invade his body like a disease. His magic–pure Abyssmal energy–had been able to fight it off once Ean had realized what it was. Azalea and Zin were infused with plenty of energy from living in the Abyss but weren't lucky enough to have any defense. Last time, both had gotten horribly sick and by the sour look on Azalea's face, she wasn't looking forward to repeating the experience.

  "Here we are," Dao said at his side. "Home, sweet home. Well, the edge. I've always lived in the capital, before and after the Plague. We have quite a bit of traveling still until we reach Novufyr."

  "Give us a moment," Zin said. He was staring at the wall of fog with disgust.

  "Why waste the time, little imp? The day is still young and we can travel quite a bit before nightfall."

  Azalea took a seat on the ground not far from Ean. "I didn't think about this part when we agreed to travel. How many days will it take to get to this Novufyr?"

  "About two weeks. Driavarage is around five or six days north of here, so we will stop there first and then continue on to Novufyr. We could travel up to Szar first. It’s right along the road leading out of Driavarage. It’s a wonderful town of gambling and debauchery--"

  "At least two dozen days to Novufyr and back," Azalea moaned. "Plus whatever time Ean needs to speak to your mute king . . . I think I'm going to be sick."

  Zin gave a loud grunt. "Can't wait for that feeling of my insides being on fire."

  "What are you both complaining about? My home isn't that bad."

  "It's the Plague," Ean replied. "Or more specifically, the magic that created it and keeps it going. It’s a corrupted form of energy from the Abyss and doesn't mix well with those infused with its pure form. I can fight off its effects, but--"

  "It makes me and the Yulari feel like our insides are on fire," Zin said. "So you can understand why we are not looking forward to this part of the journey."

  "You could stay behind--"

  Azalea was on her feet and in Dao's face in an instant.

  "And trust Ean with you? How foolish do you think we are?"

  "Azalea--" Ean began but she cut him off with a raised hand.

  "Just because this one,"–Azalea gave Dao's shoulder a light push–"can speak well and provide a few gifts does not mean I trust him. I don't trust anyone when it comes to you, Ean."

  "Hey!" Zin replied with a frown.

  "Quiet, imp. You don't trust me either."

  "Azalea." Ean strode forward and placed himself between Azalea and the bewildered looking Dao. "It’s far past the time to bring up these arguments about Dao's motives again."

  "I'm not starting an argument. I'm making sure this fool knows exactly where I stand. Where Zin stands. We'll handle stomach pains and sickness and worse for Ean." She directed her gaze back at Dao. "And we will hunt down and torture anyone that betrays him for the rest of our incredibly long life spans. Understand?"

  "Yes . . . " Dao got out after a few moments.

  "Good! Then I can go back to focusing on steeling my stomach instead of worrying about what stupid thing you are going to say next. Excuse me."

  Ean watched her walk off towards the wall of mist, pride swelling inside him. From Azalea he could feel--

  "For once, stay out of my head!" Azalea yelled back over her shoulder. "Or bond, or whatever this annoying connection we share is!"

  "How . . . " Ean began but then stopped and shook his head. A lucky guess. Or maybe an educated guess if she felt his pride surging on her end of the bond. She was smart after all.

  "That bond of yours is starting to make me real nervous," Zin said,
moving to his side. "Please don't tell me you two can talk telepathically now."

  "Tele . . . what?"

  "Telepath . . . it means through your minds. Without words. I thought you were smart."

  "I know dozens of medicinal plants, can somewhat read the language of the Abyss, and understand and speak basic Crux. Excuse me if I don't know every human word invented."

  "You can speak Crux?" Dao chimed in. "I've seen a few in my time. I thought they just made grunting and growling noises."

  "No, no. Their voices are just low and gravely. If you listen closely, there are actually some very distinct inflections in their tone--"

  "Enough," Azalea had turned and walked back to them. "I've decided it would be better to enter the Deadlands and deal with the sickness than to continue listening to these pointless conversations. Can we go?"

  "Just have to get the horse moving," Dao replied. "We'll be moving a bit slower now. The countryside of my lands isn't as flat as those in Ven Khilada. The mist doesn't help when it comes to avoiding obstacles either. It does thin out a little the further you get in, but it is still difficult to see very far. Large hills or random trees can appear out of nowhere."

  "Sounds lovely," Zin said. He had climbed up into the wagon and sat in the back corner. "Try not to bump me around too much as we go."

  "What? Why does the imp get to ride?" Azalea asked.

  "I have short legs, that’s why. I would feel awful if I slowed us down. Completely awful."

  "You lazy--"

  "Why don't we get moving," Ean said before things could escalate. "The initial shock of crossing into the Deadlands is always a little rough, but then you get used to it. Best to get that out of the way."

  "Easy for you to say." Azalea gave Ean a not so playful push. "Your body blocks the corruption."

  "Must be nice . . . " Zin grumbled.

  Rolling his eyes, Ean marched towards the mist.

  "Not my fault I have a natural defense . . . " he mumbled.

  Reaching the border, Ean paused, his boots planted firmly in the green grass. He knew the energy he held could fight off the effects of the Plague, but it didn't make taking that first step any easier. The Plague would beat at his defenses and look for an opening. As long as he was diligent about it, he should be fine.

  Just to be on the safe side, Ean drew in a bit more energy before taking a big step into the mist.

  Instantly, he felt like he was being squeezed on all sides. Hundreds of invisible hands pressed against him. But they did more than push. They battered against him. They tried to invade his every pore. It felt like they were trying to drill into his very soul. The last time Ean had been in the Deadlands, he had let his energy shield him from the effects. This time, he tried something new.

  He pushed back.

  Ean let his energy flow out of his body in every direction. Similar to how he had accidentally created the magical shield, instead of focusing his energy in one direction, he let it escape his body without a target. At first, the pressure of the Plague kept it trapped inside his body. The corrupted energy smothered him and kept his own energy from escaping. But with a push of his will, Ean expanded his energy outward in every direction. Both the mist and the feeling of the corruption seemed to flee backwards, creating a bubble of clear air about two paces away from him in every direction.

  "Oh!" Azalea exclaimed, then leapt across the border and into the clear bubble. Ean's energy didn't stop her from crossing inside. "This is excellent! Why didn't you tell us you could do this?"

  "I didn't really know . . . It seemed worth trying."

  "Well, would you look at that," Dao said, taking a few steps into the Deadlands but staying away from Ean's bubble.

  "It is pretty amazing," Zin said, jumping into the bubble as well. "Maybe this trip won't be as horrible as I thought."

  "I wasn't talking about the bubble," Dao said. He was pointing at Ean's feet.

  Looking down, Ean saw what the man was talking about. The grass inside the bubble was dead. Blue and purple blades of grass had wilted to a sickly brown or black. With the slightest nudge of his boot, the grass fell apart, turning to a thick dust.

  "I heard your power was strong," Dao said, taking another step back. "But I thought they were exaggerating when they told me how you murdered that one man in Ulundkin."

  "It was an accident. I didn't know my magic would mix in with the Plague and cure him."

  "I don't call it curing a person when you turn them to nothing but dust."

  Ean's hands tightened into fists but he kept his composure. "YOUR people wanted to execute a young man barely younger than me for being curious. I don't feel any remorse that your Zu-whatever-your-people-call-yourselves died instead of a man whose only crime was a fascination with making maps."

  "You would measure a person's worth by his interests?" Dao's voice had lost its usual note of playfulness. "Where I'm from, a person is measured by his years, and someone that has been a citizen of our lands for over a century is worth more than the few decades of some mapmaker."

  "Well, that’s where we differ, Dao. I don't weigh one person's worth against another. If someone is being mistreated, I want to help them. It doesn't matter if it’s a human, some creature from the Abyss–"

  "Creature?" Azalea asked with a huff. Ean ignored her.

  "Or someone from your lands infected by a corrupt form of Abyssmal energy. I don't put one life above another."

  "And you call yourself a leader? A real leader must put one life, or even multiple lives, above another. You’re just a young man playing at being a ruler of your creatures."

  Ean had no idea where Dao's sudden hostility had come from, but he was not about to be talked down to by the man.

  "I don't need a lecture about leading from a glorified delivery man. I didn't choose one man over the other, I just stood up for someone in trouble whom I had come to like. And I'd do it again."

  "Delivery man?!? You have no idea the reputation I hold in--"

  "I don't care if you are the most respected person in your realm. Your job now is to take us to your king, not lecture me. How about for the rest of the trip you keep your opinion to yourself."

  Dao gave an extravagant bow, bending low and sweeping his arms out to the side.

  "Of course, oh most magnificent lord of the Abyss. I humbly apologize for bothering you. Let me go fetch the wagon for you so we can stop wasting time."

  Ean bit his tongue as the man spun on his heels and walked back towards the cart. Arguing further with the man would be pointless. Let him have his backhanded insults. There was no rhyme or reason for the man to have turned so hostile over someone he probably didn't know. If Dao wanted to hold a grudge for the rest of the trip, so be it. Ean watched the man move towards the cart until Azalea wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

  "Let's talk about that 'creature' comment you just made," she purred in his ear.

  "Not now, Azalea. It might not seem like it, but it does take some effort on my part to keep this bubble of protection up for us. If you don't want the Plague making you feel sick the entire trip, you should try being nice to me and keeping me calm."

  "Where is the fun in that?"

  "To keep from being sick," Zin said with a laugh. "I'll happily rub your shoulders and sing praises to your name. Let the Yulari walk outside the bubble the entire trip. A little humility would be good for her."

  "You know what, imp? Ean was right, I should go easy on him. After all, I can turn my full attention on you for the rest of the trip. It’s been too long since I've kicked you around."

  "And my teeth haven't bitten into Yulari skin in what feels like ages. So you just bring that scaly foot of yours anywhere near me . . . "

  "Scaly? I have perfect skin."

  Ean covered his face in his hands as Azalea moved to get right in Zin's face. A few moments later, something slammed into Ean's side, knocking him to the ground. Looking up, he found Dao just ahead of him leading the cart.

  "Sor
ry, your most powerful one. Horse got away from me for a moment there. My humblest apologies."

  Ean could only stare at the man as he led the cart further into the Deadlands. Behind him, Azalea and Zin continued to argue. So, out of everyone, he was still the one being humbled. He couldn't help but laugh at himself.

  Pushing himself back to his feet, Ean started after Dao. He gained a little bit of satisfaction as his two arguing companions got left behind. They were so caught up arguing that they didn't even notice as Ean's protective bubble left them behind. That is, until the effects of the Plague hit them. Ean didn't even try to contain his laughter as he watched them both double over as the Plague invaded their bodies. They both glanced up at Ean in unison and then hurried over to his side. They remained silent, even as they shot each other daggers during the walk.

  Not the best start, but Ean hoped the rest of their time in the Deadlands would go smoother.

  Chapter 20

  Moving through the Deadlands was like traveling through a dream. The mist distorted everything within a few paces as they trudged on and made seeing anything past a stone's throw impossible. The plants that grew were just as twisted as those you would find in a nightmare. Where it had been sparse vegetation near the border, a variety of strange plants seemed to sprout up in abundance the further in they moved. Plants with violet stalks and long curved thorns reached up out of the ground like hands, snagging clothes whenever one of their group failed to notice their twisted stems. Trees shot out of the purple grass in random spots, their trunks twisting like corkscrews towards the sky. The Healer in Ean would have loved to stop and take samples of each but they just didn't have enough time. Dao lead them through the mist with a strange stone attached to a spinning wheel, although the trail of dead vegetation Ean left behind them helped mark the direction they were traveling in as well.

  Thus far, the trip had been uneventful. Dao seemed to be holding a grudge over their previous argument and had barely uttered a word. Azalea and Zin had tossed insults at each other for a while, but had grown quieter the deeper they traveled into the Deadlands. All around them, the sunlight had grown dim in the thickening haze. The only sound was the creak of the wagon wheels and the breaths of their horse. By the time they rolled to a stop under a grove of twisted trees, Ean was exhausted.