"So you said you could do some healing?" he asked. "Can you do any other magic?"
"No, that's all I have," she said, "but I'm thinking of making the Pilgrimage someday."
As they stepped through the door, Berig said, "The Pilgrimage?"
"There are eight temples of magic spread throughout the world. At each temple, you gain one type of magic. It's a very difficult quest. Even most of the sorcerers in Luminia can do only one or two types of magic. Some have never even begun the Pilgrimage."
They passed the guards at the door, who glanced at them with concern.
"It's all right," Lara said to the guards. "He's with me."
They nodded and let the two of them pass.
"So am I destined to make this Pilgrimage?" Berig asked as they marched through wooden corridors. He figured he could walk on his own, but he liked Lara's touch, so he didn't say anything.
"I believe the Webs say you'll do so. If you want some answers, you can talk to Tyrell, our High Priest. He can read the Webs of Fate better than anyone else here."
Berig's stomach churned. He still didn't like the thought of his future being out of his control. As they walked, he said, "Do these Webs control everything?"
"No, they don't. They merely show us which outcomes are more likely than others. The future isn't set in stone, and it never will be."
"Then why do I have to be this Wanderer, this hero?"
"You don't have to be anything," she said as they stepped through another door, emerging in a large clearing within a much larger forest. "But if one of your potential futures is one in which you're a hero, is that something you can ignore?"
Berig scratched his head. "I don't know. I've always lived life in the moment. When you grow up on the streets like I did, all you care about is where your next meal's coming from."
Dozens of people filled the clearing. To Berig's surprise, no one approached them.
"I thought they'd all worship me around here," he said.
"My father hasn't told them who you are. Only three of us know: him, me, and Tyrell."
"The guards don't even know?" he asked.
"All they know is that they are not to harm you in any way. It's common for us to be cautious around outsiders. The forest protects us from the worst of the clan wars, but they do occasionally make raids in our territory."
"You're not like the other clans," Berig said, glancing around. A few of the people here had lighter skin, but most had light brown skin like Lara. Some even had skin darker than any Berig had ever seen. "You must come from somewhere different."
"Our ancestors came from the same place as everyone else," Lara said, leading Berig through the forest. The building they'd left was the largest around. The rest of the settlement consisted of dozens of wooden shacks, plain but well-constructed.
"Then why do you look so different?" Berig asked.
"Our ancestors were a diverse mix of people. Over time, many have intermarried, and that diversity has all but vanished, but there are groups of us throughout the world that don't mix as much."
"Yeah, I guess that's true." Berig thought of the moneylender, Amar, and a few others like him, whose families hadn't mixed much with the Empire's generally lighter-skinned population. In truth, Berig had never given much thought to things like that.
He'd changed in a lot of ways recently. He barely recognized himself as the same person who'd fled Bradenton. That Berig felt like someone who belonged to a different lifetime.
"So where are we going?" he asked as they passed a couple of children playing with twigs as if they were practice swords.
"Didn't you want to talk to Tyrell?"
"Yeah, I guess so."
They entered one of the wooden huts. Inside, a man sat at a table, eyes closed as if he were in a trance. Berig shared a nervous glance with Lara, who put a finger to her lips. They waited for a few minutes until the man opened his eyes. He was a few inches taller than Berig and younger than Berig had expected, with a short black beard.
"What do you need?" asked the man. His eyes settled on Berig. "Ah, you must be the Wanderer. I am Tyrell, High Priest of Clan Forest Snake." He held out a hand to shake and Berig took it. Tyrell's grip was firmer than Berig had expected.
Berig swayed on his feet. "So, what can you tell me about these Webs of Fate?"
"Please sit down." Tyrell motioned to a pair of wooden chairs nearby. Once Berig and Lara seated themselves, Tyrell said, "I can tell you a great deal. I've made studying the Webs my mission in life. Few have the talent like I do."
"Did these Webs tell you I'd be coming?" Berig asked.
"Yes, they did, or at least they said you might come. That's the important thing about the Webs. They don't deal in certainties. Some threads had you dead by now. Others had you traveling to different parts of the world. Others yet had you remaining in the Empire." He stroked his beard. "We're pleased that you came here, and we were ready for the unlikely event that you would show up, but we weren't expecting it. I'm glad we were wrong."
Berig shifted in his chair. "How far ahead can you see?"
"It depends on the strength of the strands. Some strands are easier to see than others, usually those strands involving a Weaver like you. But even then, we can't see the future with certainty." He paused. "Oh, I should probably tell you what a Weaver is." He stroked his beard again. "The simplest explanation is this. A Weaver is someone who pulls on the threads with unusual strength. That is, important events tend to cluster around them. I'm afraid to say I don't understand this, but you are very important, Wanderer."
"Please call me Berig." He leaned forward in his chair. "What do you see in my future?"
"I see no certainties. I see only possibilities. And the farther in the future we go, the vaguer those possibilities become. I can only tell you that you will play an important role when the Great War begins anew. To play this role, you must begin the Pilgrimage. Start out by going to Luminia. You'll find some answers there, I think."
"And if I don't wanna do any of this?" Berig asked.
"It's your choice."
Berig had to think about this. A part of him was excited at the prospect of being important. Another part wanted to fade into the background like he always had. Had his recent challenges changed him enough make him a hero?
Well, he knew one way he wanted to be a hero. He had to save his friends. "Can these Webs tell you the near future?" he asked.
"They can, but only in possibilities. Remember. Nothing is certain."
"That's fine," Berig said. "I want you to look into the future and see if my friends can be saved, and if I'll have any role in saving them." He told Tyrell what had happened to the rest of the party and gave him all their names.
"It'll be a few moments." Tyrell closed his eyes and fell into his trancelike state again.
Berig leaned forward in his chair, feeling queasy.
It seemed like an eternity before Tyrell opened his eyes. "There are a few major possibilities regarding your friends. The most likely possibility is that they will all die, but that possibility diminishes if you set out to help them. However, that also puts you at risk."
"Are you saying a rescue party without me will fail?" Berig asked.
"It's not a certainty, but it is highly likely. Their chances of success are perhaps one in a hundred. If you go with them, the chances become more like one in two. Not good, but better."
Berig turned to Lara. "We should tell your father."
Tyrell cleared his throat. "I should also point out that the rescue party will almost certainly all die without your help. So I agree. Zak should know this."
"You think he'll let me help?" Berig asked.
"I'm not sure," Lara said, "but I think he will. He is not a foolish man. Again, I don't think he intends to keep you here forever. He's just worried about your fate."
They left the hut, joined by Tyrell, and returned to the clan chief's building at the center of the settlement. Instead of taking a path back to the bed
room where Berig had awoken, they took a quick left, reaching the end of a hallway, where Lara knocked on a wooden door.
"Come in," Zak said from behind the door.
They stepped inside, where Zak sat behind a wooden desk covered with paperwork. That wasn't what Berig had expected. He'd thought they'd be uncivilized like the other clans.
Zak looked up. "Something wrong?"
"We need to talk to you," Lara said.
"I’m listening."
"I've read the Webs of Fate regarding the Wanderer's captured friends," Tyrell said. "If you don't send the Wanderer with the rescue party, it will almost certainly fail, and we will lose a lot of good men and women."
Zak ran a hand through his short black hair. "You're saying I have to risk the Wanderer?"
"It's inevitable," Tyrell said. "If he's going to become the hero we expect, he will do it outside of our protection. We must let him prove himself. Protecting him is foolish."
"I was beginning to come to that realization myself," Zak said.
Berig felt as if a massive weight had left his chest. "Then you'll let me go?"
"If Tyrell thinks it's best, who am I to argue?"
"I do think it's best," Tyrell said. "I also think his friends may be just as important as him. They are all Weavers themselves. I've rarely seen so many Weavers together. These people will have the power to alter the course of events when the Great War resumes."
Zak's face was lined with worry. "Then the choice is obvious."
"Is something wrong?" Berig asked.
"I already sent out the rescue party."
"Then we've gotta catch up," Berig said. "Before it's too late."
"I'm afraid it might be too late already."
Chapter 29: The Battle of Sierra City
Kara, Aren, and Lena emerged in a deserted alley. After spending so long in the tunnels, Kara was relieved to step out into air that didn't smell foul or feel oppressive. Sure, the city had its own disgusting smells, but they were nothing compared to those tunnels.
Even better, there were no monsters here. Wards were situated at the end of the alley, keeping monsters from appearing in the city.
"The attack hasn't begun yet," Aren said. "Let's find this sorcerer, and maybe we can get out of here before the fighting begins."
They stepped onto streets that were a chaotic mess. Soldiers filled the streets, warning citizens to take shelter in their homes. Kara didn't know what good it would do to hide from the Sunset Army, though she supposed it would keep people away from the worst of the battle.
The soldiers didn’t stay around to enforce their orders, which allowed Kara's party to head farther into the city, passing buildings made primarily of stone. There were a few wooden embellishments, but in a rocky land with little plant life, only the wealthy could afford to build their homes with wood.
The buildings showed more and more wood as they moved closer to the center of the city, following clean cobblestone streets. The chaos in the streets became less, as most of the soldiers had taken positions near the city's massive stone walls.
Nobody gave Kara's party more than a passing glance. Even those soldiers they passed were more concerned with defending their city.
At last, the castle came into view. Kara, Aren, and Lena reached a short bridge leading across a moat. Two guards flanked the gate at the end of the bridge, eyes narrowed as they watched the party approach.
"The city's under attack," said the guard on the right. "What business have you got here?"
Lena stepped closer. "Here to see Tobias."
The same guard examined Lena. "Wait. I know you. Name's Lena, right?"
"Yes," she said impatiently. "Now can we see Tobias?"
"He's leading the city's magical defenses," said the guard on the left. "I'm afraid he's too busy to talk to anyone right now. You got anything important to tell him?"
Lena shook her head. "Nothing that's more important than this battle."
"Is there some way we can help?" Aren asked.
"We'll take all the help we can get," said the guard on the left. "We probably have enough people near the walls. We'll need some people deeper inside the city, just in case the Sunset Army breaks through the walls."
"We'll do what we can," Aren said.
Lena narrowed her eyes. "I'll take any chance I can get to kill a few of those bastards."
The guard directed them to a nearby contingent of soldiers, and a few ordinary citizens, who were defending the interior of the city. The soldiers didn't even spare the party a second glance. Those soldiers needed all the help they could get right now.
"You think we'll win?" Kara asked.
"No idea," Aren said. "But we'll do what we can."
She leaned against him, hoping to find warmth and solidity—an anchor to keep her stable in a sea of chaos. Aren wrapped an arm around her, his touch comforting, but she could sense his anxiety, a horrible mirror of her own. They stood in a group of perhaps fifty people. No one spoke, and tension hung in the air. The streets had all but emptied of everyone who wasn't fighting. Kara couldn't see the walls and had no idea if the Sunset Army was attacking.
Eerie silence settled over the city as Kara broke free from Aren and paced at the walls of a large stone building. This would surely be her final battle. No one could elude death forever.
A low rumble came from the distance.
"That must be their siege engine," Aren said. He gripped her shoulder lightly.
The rumble continued, and Kara's tension became almost unbearable. Smoke towered in the distance. The nearby soldiers told them to be ready, but Kara was barely paying attention. She hadn't signed up to be part of a war.
"I'm not ready to die," she said.
Aren rested his hand firmly on her shoulder. "No one ever is. But I don't think we're gonna die today. This isn't the first time the Sunset Army's attacked Sierra City. They've never won before, and I don't think they'll win now."
Kara avoided his gaze. "I wish I had your confidence."
It felt as if time had stopped. More smoke rose in the distance, thicker and darker. Shouts became louder. Ominous cracking sounds accompanied the rumble.
"Sounds like we're gonna have a fight on her hands," Lena said, as if thrilled at the prospect. Kara couldn't understand how Lena felt that way. Yes, Lena had suffered at the hands of these people, but surely the Sunset Army wasn't entirely evil.
Kara had seen too much in her young life to believe that good and evil were simple. These soldiers surely had reasons they were fighting for their country.
A crack sounded in the distance, louder than ever, followed by a series of screams and shouts. The Sunset Army had breached the city's walls. Now they would fight in the streets.
Sure enough, a soldier sprinted toward them a few minutes later. "The Sunset Army has infiltrated the city," he said breathlessly. "We need everyone to defend the city!" The soldier collapsed against a nearby building. He hadn't removed his armor to run the entire distance from the wall to the castle.
"You heard him," Aren said. "Let's get moving."
The soldiers led their makeshift group of defenders toward the walls. They weren't quite sprinting, but the pace was fast enough that Kara tired.
It took a few minutes to reach the battle. The sounds of chaos were almost deafening. Magic crackled in the air. Bursts of fire engulfed soldiers on both sides. Lightning arced through the city. Somewhere in the distance, somebody was casting powerful spells. Kara watched in awe for a moment, then turned her attention to the fighting.
Soldiers were running every direction, slashing at their opponents, plunging their swords through whatever exposed body parts they could find.
Kara felt vulnerable without armor. "I can't be part of this battle. I won't last even a minute."
Aren nodded. "Then you should hang back and let us use our magic."
Kara gestured toward the battling soldiers, who were still maybe fifty feet ahead. "Do you really think you can use your magic wit
hout hitting our allies?"
"You make a good point," Aren said. "Maybe we should stay out of this battle."
"I don't care," Lena said. "You can stay out of the battle if you want, but I'm fighting."
Aren gestured angrily with his arm. "You'll only get yourself killed."
"If I die, then so be it. But I'm gonna take a few of 'em with me."
Aren tried to say something else, but she dashed forward before he could. He watched her, chewing on his lower lip, then turned back to Kara. "She's made her choice. Let's hope she makes it through this."
The soldiers had all rushed forward to join the fighting, but most of the civilians hung back with Kara and Aren, watching the battle warily. It was one thing to say you'd defend your city when you weren't seeing the battle firsthand. It was another to stand strong against the enemy with no armor and no chance of surviving.
"That inn there has a balcony." Aren pointed up and to their left. "We can watch the battle from there."
Kara didn't want to watch the battle, but she needed to know Lena's fate. They entered the inn, which was packed with people who had taken shelter behind its sturdy stone walls. Kara followed Aren up the stairs and onto that balcony, perhaps twenty feet above the ground.
Lena was somewhere in the chaotic mess below, amidst the clinking and clanking of swords. Fire towered over some areas of the city, burning all the wood it found. Screams came from every direction. Kara could almost feel the pain of every fallen soldier. Their grunts and cries were sickening. How could people do this to each other?
It reminded her too much of Crayden. "This is awful."
"I almost wish I was down there fighting alongside Lena," Aren said. "I don't know. Maybe I'm too much of a coward."
"No, you're just a more practical person. As am I."
"I'm gonna miss her," Aren said.
"We don't know if she's going to die."
"You saw the look in her eyes. When she left us, she was prepared to die. She has nothing left but her thirst for vengeance. She'll take out as many of them as she can, but in the end, she'll meet her death."
The Shadowed Land Page 21
