Wings of Light Special Edition

by Lloyd Baron

  She moans but her eyes flutter and no words will come to her lips. The wine has her in its grip and she is at its mercy. Master Toshin stares at her with cold eyes and then he quickly unties his robes. He lowers himself down upon her, hitching her woolen gown to her waist. He pushes inside her, and she lets out a cry, but the pain is short-lived as the wine numbs her senses. She pushes at him but he forces her hands to the floor. He begins to push faster and harder. Riochald’s mind blacks out. The darkness seeps in like it had the night before, but she had fought it away then. This time her will gives into it

  She turns to face him and sneers. “You raped me!” Her voice is hard and emotionless to her own ears and she panics deep inside, but something else drives her on. “You had me there!” she points to the rug in front of the cold fireplace. “You filled me with wine and then you filled me with your seed. Lucky for you it did not take!”

  The old man’s eyes darken and he reaches into his belt, pulling a small glass tube filled with a red liquid into his palm. “Now Riochald,” he pleads. “You know it was not like that. You asked me to. You did not want to be the only woman to leave the shrine still a girl.” His fingers work on the stopper as he talks. “You almost begged me to do it. I did not want to but the wine was strong and...”

  “You didn’t drink any wine!” she roars, her voice bouncing from the walls. “You plied me with drink so that you could get your thrills. I do not understand why I forgot what you had done until now, but I remember everything!” She thinks furiously that she should be shocked and frightened, but the oil presses down on her, numbly she keeps walking towards him.

  “I can help you to forget again if you want?” The top of the tube comes free and a strong smell fills the room. He thrusts the contents of the tube into her face and steps back. The red liquid hangs in the air, slowly forming into a ball which shimmers and ripples. Toshin gasps and staggers backwards.

  “Oh,” Riochald says with a twisted smile. “I have power now.” She holds out a hand and the liquid turns to ice, dropping and shattering on the floor. The man turns to flee, yet he only manages a step. The darkness laughs through her mind and grasps hold of her hands. She tries to stop what she is doing but control has left her. Power cascades from her being, thick and black, lashing to the man and ripping him to pieces. His blood and organs spray the walls and books.

  The darkness pours into her mind and grabs hold of Riochald, the part of her still fighting, and smothers her. She screams and falls to the floor clutching her head. It screams and whispers at her, telling her to give over to it, become one, and let it have control. She fights but it is too strong and her mind is ripped away and flung into a dark corner, bruised and battered.

  Her body gets to its feet and turns back to the Library. Black eyes fix upon the staircase and she begins to laugh, a purely demented sound. She opens her right hand, palm up, and watches as hundreds of tiny flames flutter into the air like butterflies. They are beautiful as they begin to land on books, furniture and parchments, spreading and making more. She turns to the rug, and with a sweep of her arm the whole thing burns away—and she thought she couldn’t summons against this old room!

  Her work here is done, but the darkness wants more. It has been waiting too many suns to have its revenge upon this place. With the Library burning at her back she strolls into the hall and begins to summons again. This will be fun.

  Darwin’t races to meet the wagon at the bottom of the hill. The others are right behind him but he is determined to get there first, to reach his aunt. The stout woman sees him and pulls the reins hard to stop the horses. She leaps from her seat and into his arms. He holds her close and she returns the emotion by squeezing him tightly.

  It is a short-lived reunion. She pulls away and looks at them with fear in her eyes. “They will be here within an hour. They are a mix of men and ghouls being lead by Baron Lokkie. They have trampled across Hillsbough and burned much of Gressgs to the ground.” Tears fill her eyes but none will fall. Such is the strength of this woman. “We have been holding them off as long as we could but it was all in vain. They are growing. More ghouls join them every hour.”

  “The Dark Wizard moves with them then,” Tak’arshi mutters as he joins them. “Maida!” he exclaims on sight of the woman. “You look well!” He grabs the woman within his embrace and holds her there. Tears do fall now, but from his eyes.

  When he lets go of her she stares at him, confused and slightly angry. Darwin’t does not understand. How does his aunt know Tak’arshi?

  He decides it is a question for another time. From the trees he sees the first of the troops emerge. “We should move to the shrine,” he says fearfully.

  “Getting the higher ground will be an advantage,” Fia informs them. “Leave the wagon but bring the horses.” He turns to the boy who is pulling items from the boxes loaded on the back. “Leave them. They will slow us down.”

  “I need something…” he says quietly, “…something that will be of help to the fight.” His fingers find what they are looking for and he tugs a short wooden cudgel into the air. Fia barks a laugh before he can control himself.

  “That will do nothing against an army, Tye! Now get down from the wagon and head for the shrine.” The mountain man stands to his full height and puts his chest out. He is a powerful and fierce sight.

  “I think you will want me to stay around here,” Tye says with a grin. His eyes rove the group and they settle on his old friend. “Afternoon, Tarfleam. You are looking grown up. Good for you, it is about time!”

  Tarfleam frowns but says nothing. His eyes stay firmly fixed on Tye, recalling the last time they had seen each other. The night in the woods. The Dark Wizard stabbing him with ice. Running into the trees, leaving his friend behind to die. Guilty feelings long gone with the news of his life resurface and he swallows back tears. It is then that he notices the boy’s eyes.

  “White,” he says out loud. “Your eyes are white!”

  Everyone stares up at Tye and the boy grins, clearly loving the attention. “I am empowered. I have great magic.”

  “Yes, doesn’t everyone these days!” Danlynn chimes in. “You think you are all special and then you find out that all your friends can summons.” He returns the grin before sweeping his cloak with a gust of wind.

  “Danlynn!” Fia roars. “Stop showing off! We do not have time for this. We must get the people from the shrine to safety and then try to hold off this army.”

  “We will need Riochald,” Chaz says. “She is the strongest one amongst us. She will be able to take them on single-handed.”

  “She will be in the Library,” Darwin’t says, “getting ready for the bonding.” His heart sinks as he thinks of Canace sitting in the dark room in the basement of the shrine. Waiting for him to enter and become hers forever. That will not happen now. The bonding will have to wait for another day.

  He looks back over his shoulder at the lines of troops spilling into the meadow from the wood. He will have to put his life with Canace off for another day, but only if they survive this attack.

  Canace cocks her head to the side and listens carefully to the noises coming from above her. She is certain that she heard screams. Now however there is only silence. Her time in the basement has been short compared to what it should be, but she feels ready to leave and be taken to the Library to meet Darwin’t and become his bonded. She smiles on the inside as well as with her mouth when she thinks about her life with him.

  She does not love him—she knows this completely, but he will be a good husband and a great father to her daughters. She also knows that he loves her and that will keep him faithful to his bond. A hand of guilt touches her and she has to shake it off. Most bondings are done without love. Darwin’t is her best friend in the whole world. She loves him in the way she does Riochald, but there is no passion between them. She had believed that passion was unimportant in a bonding, that love making could be fun without emotions.

  Then she had seen Derry’n
leaning over Tak’arshi, spilling his love for Sabastian into the man to save his life. So much passion and desire, enough to make someone without emotions feel, had driven him to forget his fears of rejection! That was the kind of love she wanted. But, she knows that she will never find a man in Gressgs that will do that to her. She needs a solid ground beneath her feet, for herself, for her bonded and for her children.

  A piecing cry snaps her to attention. She listens again. Fear of the dark edging into her thoughts. What is going on upstairs? She gets to her feet and slowly moves to the small hole of light in the door. Her hands trace the surface of the wall until they reach the handle and she takes hold of it.

  This is against everything she has ever believed in. A bonded is meant to stay in the dark until she is called upon and taken to the Library to be joined forever. If she opens the door she will have broken her word and will not be allowed to bond that sun.

  A chorus of screams reaches her and she forgets any thoughts of staying in the dark. Her hand works the handle in moments and she bounds into the light. Her eyes close by themselves to protect from the hundreds of dazzling lights bouncing before her. She shields them and tries to look down the corridor at what is happening.

  Her vision is still blurred but she can make out a pool of moving darkness floating towards her. It could be a flowing black gown in the wind the way it moves back and forth in ripples. She rubs her eyes with her fingers and tries to look again. Oil. It slivers across the walls, floor and ceiling like thousands of thick snakes, reaching out and grasping hold of anything they can. Standing in the centre, commanding and laughing is Riochald. Her face is twisted into a mad smile and her eyes are empty black sockets. Canace screams and staggers back. The tentacles snap at her, moving around her waist and limbs. Terror freezes her to the spot and she does not even attempt running. Riochald glides over to her, her feet inches off the ground.

  “Canace,” she purrs. “You are not a part of this. I mean you no harm. It is the rest that must be punished. Go, leave here and do not come back.” At that the oil envelops her. It is like thick water but she cannot swim or control where she goes. It moves her by itself, gripping her under the arms and tugging at her legs.

  She drops into the light behind the mass of darkness and gasps air into her lungs. She had not realized that she had been holding her breath. She gets to her feet and watches as the pulsating evil shift around the corner and out of sight.

  She turns and runs towards the doors but stops. What will they do to her? Tak’arshi will order them to hurt her. She is dangerous, but she is still only Riochald. She can be reasoned with. Only she, Canace, can reason with her. Riochald has never listened to anyone but her in her entire life. She will pay heed to Darwin’t or Fia or Tak’arshi. She will try to fight them and they will kill her.

  She turns back and races towards the fresh screams. She has to save all these people. She has to save her best friend.

  The blood pumps through his veins with renewed strength, burning in his muscles and stabbing deep in his chest, his desire to reach the shrine and Canace overwhelming his lack of breath. His lungs burn with each ragged sucking in of air, but he pushes it aside. He has to warn them before it is too late. The shrine houses everyone in Gressgs. They will be sitting to eat about now so it will be easier to speak with them all. But will they listen to the boy who has spent his entire life playing tricks on them?

  He dares a look over his shoulder at the army now charging across the meadow. If it had been a normal army, if none of them had been ghouls, they would have rested. They had not stopped. In fact they have begun running the troops and cavalry at a fast pace. Tak’arshi now believes they will reach the hill in less than ten minutes. Not much time to prepare or to evacuate.

  He stumbles. A hand hits the floor and something snaps but he just grinds his teeth and continues on. He reaches the top of the hill and bounds over to the large doors. His body protests to his sudden slowing and he loses his energy. He leans on the door with all his weight and only just manages to push it open.

  The shrine is deathly quiet. He takes a step inside out of the warm sun and shivers. His breath clouds in front of his face and his teeth start to chatter. It is freezing in here.

  A howl echoes throughout the halls and he pulls his dagger from his belt, cursing himself for leaving his other weapons behind. He starts to move further into the halls of the shrine, getting colder with each step.

  He tries to push his fear away. He must find Canace and Riochald and get them to safety. He only wishes he has a useful power that can help them now.

  “Stop!” The screamed word bounces from the walls. He stops momentarily to work out the direction in which it had come before starting to run.

  Canace’s voice had sounded pained. She is in danger. He will save her or die trying.

  35

  GIVING in to DARKNESS

  They stand ready to fight. Danlynn with his bow, ready to strike from a distance with his keen sight. Instructed to keep his powers conserved for the Dark Wizard should he show himself. Derry’n pulls an axe from a loop hanging on his belt and a hammer from his pack. “One for the ghouls and one for the men,” he says. “No need to kill those who simply follow a man they love.”

  Fia hefts his huge sword onto his shoulder and turns to stone, his muscles tensing ready for the first strike. Chaz drops to a crouch and waits, her feet ready to act like a spring to launch herself forwards. Tarfleam stands behind them, his shoes removed and his feet planted firmly into the ground, his knives ready in his hands just in case the line is broken and he needs to defend himself. The healer stands with him, he mumbles over and over, words that will cast healing over them as they fight.

  At the front of the group are Tak’arshi and Tye. The boy had refused to run or fall back. He holds the cudgel like a bat in a game of Gye-ball and will be of little use in the battle. Tak’arshi had asked Maida to take him away, but she had casually shrugged and said it was the boy’s choice. They had put her on one of the horses and made her ride in the opposite direction from the shrine.

  Tak’arshi scans the ranks of men below him. There must be a thousand at least: not a large army but enough to wipe out the eight of them standing in their way. His only hope is that the men do not know who they fight for. If he can reveal to them the true face of the army then he could break it without a fight. The ghouls would still come, but a single strike from Danlynn could wipe them from the meadow.

  He turns to face the others. They all look frightened—all except Fia, who looks like a statue. Only the mountain man’s eyes move when Tak’arshi starts to speak.

  “I will summon first. I can break whatever power is held over the ghouls. This should reveal them to the other soldiers and hopefully divide the army. We do not know how many of them are ghouls and how many are men. So this spell cannot be counted on to win this fight.

  “Once the ghouls are in the open then it is over to you. Danlynn, take out as many as you can with the bow. Aiming for the head as it is the only way of killing them. You need to destroy the brain.”

  Danlynn swallows down his desire to be sick and just nods his head.

  “Derry’n, Fia, Chaz, you will need to get into the ranks and attack swiftly. Derry’n, you will head left, Chaz, right, and Fia, you can take all the others.”

  The big man smiles but his eyes remain fixed.

  “Tarfleam, you will be support. Slow them down but do not use too much power. You may be the only one left to protect the shrine and the people in it. So small vines, roots that sort of thing. Trip them if you can. Also, when I cast the first spell make the grass grow under their feet. Only knee-high, but do it quickly. It will cause them to panic.”

  “I won’t let you down,” Tarfleam mutters and he looks proud as he says it.

  “Healer, do you have any attack spells within you?”

  “No. I can only heal. Although I do have a trick I used once to escape a mugging. I can make a ball of light explode with a bli
nding flash. Does no harm but it will make them see spots.”

  “That is good. When I cast and Tarfleam makes the grass grow.”

  “I will also do my part in breaking them,” the healer mutters soberly.

  Tarfleam turns to Tye and shakes his head. “Try not to get killed and stay out of our way.”

  The boy narrows his eyes but says nothing. They all return to the waiting… which ends sooner than expected.

  A horse breaks from the mass and gallops towards them. Sitting on the back of the horse is Baron Lokkie, dressed in his finest garments. He addresses them cheerily with a wave and a smile.

  “You there! What are you eight doing standing on this hill? You do not intend to fight us, do you?”

  Danlynn takes a step forwards and aims his arrow at the Baron’s head. He closes an eye and focuses. The Baron turns his eyes upon him, and something in them sends a shudder through Danlynn’s arm. His grip on the string slips and the arrow flies free. It strikes the Baron in the eye and knocks him from his mount, dead.

  A roar goes up from the army and they charge as one, driven into a frenzy by the death of their beloved master.

  Tak’arshi glares at Danlynn but says nothing. Instead he draws in his power. His eyes turn black and veins of darkness travel up his arms and across his face.

  “Dark wave!” he screams as he thrusts his hands forwards. The air shimmers around him and then blasts outwards taking the air with it. Chaz braces herself as the powerful wind following in its wake hits them. It passes quickly as it spreads away and down the hill. As it hits the troops a blinding flash detonates in their midst. Men break ranks and flee, frightened by the witchcraft being used against them. As they run the very grass begins to grow around them, they stagger and tumble, yelling out of fear.