Only a Glow

by Nichelle Rae

  He stopped, having explained most of the riddle, then he looked away, shaking his head. I narrowed my eyes at him as I saw a thought pass through his eyes. You are not like your father. He would never have selfishly put his petty problems before the survival of Goodness.

  My temper flared!

  I didn’t want to hear anymore! I could understand the last part well enough and didn’t need him to explain it! I stood from my chair so fast it slammed up against the wall and I stormed away, shaking with rage.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Wait!”

  “Azrel?”

  I had to get out of there before I killed one of them, or screamed, or something!

  I pulled open their door and glared back at them, particularly Addredoc. “I’d hate to selfishly bother you in your home any longer.” Addredoc went pale. I looked at Meddyn and Thrawyn. “I would thank you for saving my life but there’s nothing to be thankful for.” They all blanched. Then I walked out into the rain, slamming their door so hard behind me, the glass in the pane cracked.

  Rage pounded in my veins and heated my skin. I’m surprised the rain didn’t sizzle when it touched me. As I looked in front of me at the road, I silently dared anyone to cross me right then. Just one more little push was all I needed to release my hazardous temper on some poor soul; too bad it had to be Addredoc.

  I heard the door behind me open and close. “Azrel, wait!” Addredoc cried. I heard the splashing of his footsteps as he ran to catch up to me.

  My fists clenched. I was ready to whirl and break his jaw again, but suddenly I saw Forfirith standing on the road. Oh, my friend. Just looking at him calmed me immensely. He was a true friend. He was standing soaking wet in the rain. The pelts of rain water splashed off his body, which reflected in the soft, white lamps around the town, creating a halo of water and light all around him. He was waiting for me on the road, looking expectant but patient, just like a beautiful guardian angel.

  Addredoc finally appeared in front of me. He was back in human form, soaking wet from the rain already with small locks of his black hair sticking to his face. “Azrel, please forgive me. I didn’t mean—”

  “Get out of my way, Addredoc,” I warned as thunder rolled up above.

  “Azrel, please! Come inside and we will—”

  “Don’t make me kill you,” I said in a throaty voice.

  He swallowed hard, then bowed his head and stepped aside.

  I continued without a glance at him and approached my horse. I pressed my forehead to his wet face and stroked his neck with both hands. “I’m sorry I sent you away, my friend. You’re all I have.” He nuzzled my neck. “Can you forgive me?” He responded by butting his nose gently against my cheek. I smiled. “Thank you.”

  He pulled away from me and turned his head toward his back. He took up something in his teeth and yanked on it a few times until it came free; it was my spare cloak.

  I smiled and took it from him. “Thank you.” I threw it over my shoulders and began petting his face again. “Forfirith, I know the stables at the inn were full and no one could take your packs off and see to your needs, but do you think you can travel for a bit? I want to get as far away as we can as soon as possible.” He nudged my cheek a few times and gave a soft neigh. “I promise we’ll stop before dawn so I can feed you and give you a rest from those heavy packs.” He neighed louder and nudged me harder, which I took to mean “let’s go, then.”

  I went to his side, placed my foot in the stirrup, and looked back at Addredoc. He was still standing outside, looking like a pathetic abused puppy. I shook my head and mounted my horse. I checked him around, putting myself back in the direction of the inn. It was the only way of getting through Narcatertus without taking a day and going all the way around. Hopefully Rabryn and Ortheldo would be asleep. It was okay if they weren’t. Narcatertus was a huge town. I wouldn’t be recognized.

  Jonoic was on both knees before me and my two comrades, shaking and sweating. I’d shared my most recent revelation with my two guests and they were rather pleased as well. Jonoic, however, thought he had angered the wrath of all three of us. I could see, playing in his mind, his horrifying thoughts of what we might do to him. Some of them were rather creative, which I’d have to remember for future consideration. He was so overwhelmed with these thoughts that the seams of his sanity were tearing.

  “Well, Jonoic?”

  “M–my Lord,” he began. “I h–…I have failed you. I haven’t the right to even ask…ask your forgiveness.”

  I had been angry at first. But having recently conjured a way to see the last few living moments of beings under my command, changed that. I saw that the redhead was dead. Jaravel was dead. Now the hunter, Glessar, was dead. Oh, yes, I’d been angry—until Glondra, one of my two associates, pointed out the method of how the redhead and Glessar were killed: wooden planks and boards.

  Those items for weaponry only meant one thing: the White Warrior’s Deralilya had been unleashed. He was unnamed, but unleashed all the same. The White Warrior had surfaced full force, and I knew it now. There was still the task of finding out who the White Warrior was, but all I had to do was followed the trail of dead bodies left in The Deralilya’s path.

  “Report!” I commanded the shivering man.

  He jumped at my tone and started shaking more. “The man I had on the hunt, Glessar,” he squeezed his eyes tightly shut. “He’s dead.”

  “When did you last hear from him?” I asked.

  “A week and five days ago.”

  “Why didn’t you come to me sooner?” I screamed.

  Jonoic jumped again and started shaking. “I—I thought, my Lord, he was still working on getting your proof of who the White Warrior was.”

  “What did he tell you in his last report? I want everything, every detail, anything he showed you. Tell me all of it.”

  Jonoic hurried into the tale of Glessar’s last report. He said Glessar believed he had found her, and my skin crawled at the conformation that he believed it was indeed a woman, which meant this was indeed a new White Warrior. He also said that my vision the White Warrior’s travel companions proved true—a Gold Flower and the heir to Dwellingpath’s throne. Jonoic also stated that Glessar said he would need my aid in finding the woman’s magic in her mind.

  My brows dropped. “He couldn’t find a memory of her using it?” I had trained Glessar to use basic mind magic; it was more than enough to search the memories of the living. Why couldn’t he have found a trace of her as the White Warrior in her mind?

  Jonoic started sweating again. “He managed to get into the woman’s mind but found no evidence of her magic, my Lord. He would have searched deeper but we are not so skilled.”

  I glanced at my two companions. They looked at me with the same confused expression. I turned back at Jonoic. “Was there anything else?”

  “Well,” Jonoic’s eyes went slightly unfocused and his voice became wistful. I watched him before me, my brows drawn in thought. His attention was so focused inward that I felt myself leaning forward, as if drawn by the intensity of what he was seeing in his mind.

  “Well what?” I cried.

  He snapped back from whatever dream he was having and looked at me, a queer smile on his lips. “Well, my Lord, Glessar showed her to me.”

  My eyes bulged! “You’ve seen her?”

  “Yes, my Lord.”

  I couldn’t believe it. I had tried to see the face that the redhead was looking at before she was killed, but her tears had blurred it. Jaravel’s last moments, were only his gazing at the broken blade in his grip, then he was soaring through the air for a second or two before he fell dead. The only face I saw before Glessar’s eyes was that of the Gold Flower in human form, looking terribly dangerous and angry. There was something in that Salynn’s eyes, and I wasn’t sure if I should worry about it or not. It wasn’t a worry of power, because only the Shadow Gods were more powerful than me. But there was something in his eyes, something hidden f
rom me that I may need revealed soon. But of all three visions, I missed seeing the White Warrior’s face.

  “Show me,” I commanded Jonoic. He’d known for nearly two weeks what the White Warrior looked like, and I still didn’t. I suppose it was my own fault; I told him not to show his face until he had proof it was her.

  “I can only show you the image Glessar gave me, which is nearly two weeks old. I’m afraid it might be a bit faded, my Lord.”

  I smirked. “Oh, I doubt that, Jonoic.” I glanced at my other companion, Thaybo, who was also smirking. “No doubt you’ve been using the image to self-indulge, hum? Late at night when you’re all alone?” Jonoic flushed red. “I doubt it’s even close to fading from your mind. Now show me!”

  Jonoic looked deep into my eyes, a terrifying feat for anyone else under my command. I pushed my magic through his eyes, wrapped it around the image he was concentrating on and drew it forward. Slowly it developed between us. It was hazy at first, but soon became clear, as if she were walking right in front of me.

  I couldn’t keep my jaw from going slack. Even Thaybo’s face reacted in awe. She was the most magnificent creature I’d ever seen! My body responded in such a fierce way that I could hardly see straight. She was beautiful, perfect. Not a flaw to be seen of her face or curvaceous body. No woman, not even the alluring female by my side, Glondra, could compare to the impossible perfection of the White Warrior contender I saw before me.

  “Jonoic,” I said slowly, “I want you to find her. I don’t care how, just find her and bring her to me. Try to see her tears, her fighting style or her magic if you can, but if you can’t, bring her anyway.” I finally turned my eyes to Jonoic severely. “I don’t want any foul ups! Get her here anyway you can. Break her legs if you must! I can repair them. Just bring her to me.”

  “Yes, my Lord,” Jonoic said, rising to his feet, excited for another chance to prove he was more use to me alive than dead.

  He turned and walked away until I called his name, stopping him in the doorway. He turned back to me. “Be weary and quiet about your business with the White Warrior,” I smiled, remembering the boards and planks. “The Deralilya is about.”

  I saw Jonic pale. “My Lord?” he squeaked.

  I looked back at the image. “That’s what killed Ibalissa and Glessar.” He sucked in a breath through his teeth. I waved a hand dismissively. “Leave.” Biting his bottom lip, Jonoic reluctantly walked out the door.

  Thaybo, who wanted a closer look at the woman, soon joined me in front of the image. We both looked at her, awestruck. “You’ve got to hand it to the Light Gods, they certainly know how to create beautiful things,” Thaybo said. I nodded in agreement.

  “So, this is the White Warrior?” Glondra piped in from behind.

  “I don’t know about that,” I replied, “but Jonoic will get my proof. He was lucky this time that I didn’t kill him, and he knows it. He won’t fail again.”

  “You still doubt it’s her?” When I tore my eyes from the White Warrior and looked at Glondra, she was looking at me nastily. “How could a mere human possess such unworldly beauty as that?”

  I looked at Thaybo, who was smirking at her. “Don’t make your jealousy too obvious.”

  Glondra shot him a hard glare as I looked back at the image. “If it’s not her, then who is the White Warrior?”

  “I’m not sure,” I said. The Gold Flower came to my mind, then the Dwellingpath heir. “But I want this woman. I don’t care who she is.”

  “I suppose you idiots are going to leave it up to me to find the answers to vital questions that you’re allowing your testicles to ignore,” Glondra said.

  I spun around prepared to teach her a hard lesson for talking to me like that, but she was already gone. My teeth clenched, and I shook my head as I faced the image again.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Thaybo said. “She’s full of hot air. We both know that.”

  I wasn’t so sure. Glondra’s “hot air” had proven correct more often than I’d cared to admit in our many years together. Perhaps she was on to something. I’d let her figure it out, though. She was of lower rank, after all, and I was too busy enjoying my eye candy.

  “So, what are you going to do with her first?” Thaybo asked. We both laughed.

  So much for my hope of leaving during the night. Dawn had risen, ugly and gray, and for some reason a huge crowd had gathered around the one place I wanted to avoid: the inn where Rabryn, Ortheldo and I last parted ways.

  I sighed heavily. “Doesn’t this figure.” Forfirith snorted his agreement. I had my dark gray hood all the way up in case one of the boys happened to be looking out the window while I sat here. I kept my eyes on the path in front of me and away from the inn, looking for any opening I might have to get through.

  Forfirith suddenly went into a soft state of panic. He snorted and neighed and stomped his hooves eagerly. “What? What is it?” He jerked his mouth at the direction of the inn. He wanted me to look. “I don’t want to be seen, Forfirith.” He threw himself into another fit, more violent this time, nearly throwing me from the saddle. He jerked his head more feverishly toward the inn. “Okay, okay! Sheesh!” I drew my cloak higher up onto my shoulders and gathered it tightly under my chin, then I just barely moved my head to look.

  My eyes widened, my mouth fell open and I gasped. I could feel my heart sink down into my stomach, then through my toes, and plop down onto the wet dirt road as I looked at the scene. Two ropes were strung up in the rafters of the inn. One was securely fastened around Ortheldo’s neck as he stood on a short stool; blood dripping from his forehead, nose and mouth. My brother was being forced to stand on the second stool with his face also beaten bloody.

  Was this a joke? They weren’t really about to…they weren’t really about to be hanged, were they? I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, then opened them to see the scene hadn’t changed. Why were they…why was this happening?

  “Hey,” I called down to a small group of gossiping women. “What’s going on?”

  A younger lady, who would have been beautiful if not for her missing and discolored teeth, looked up at me. “The boy is being hung for murder. The other is being hung for attacking the sheriff when he tried to take the boy.” She looked again to her group of friends, who seemed to find this hilarious. “What a shame, too. Two good looking men at once? I pity their women, having to suffer such a dashing loss.” They all giggled absurdly.

  “I’d be in tears for months to come!” another woman said, and they all giggled again.

  Without thinking, I hopped off my horse, grabbed the front of the first woman’s dress and yanked her toward me. “I’m their woman!” I screamed then began to shoulder my way violently through the crowd.

  This was my fault. Rabryn had killed that man to save me. I wouldn’t let them die over this. I wouldn’t let them die, period! Especially not on my account. They may not return such love and affection, but I was not going to let this happen!

  I forced my way to the front of the crowd, not caring if I knocked people to the ground. I aggressively threw back my hood as I emerged from the front and saw the stools about to be kicked out from under them.

  “STOP!” I commanded in a voice I barely recognized. Thankfully, the men about to hang Ortheldo and Rabryn heeded my word and froze. Whether from shock or curiosity I didn’t care; the stools still stood.

  They considered me for a moment. One man, with thick white hair and a rather youthful face hidden mostly by a white beard, stood off to the side, apparently presiding over this event. His eyes were a hard, icy blue, and his build would have been intimidating if not for the similarity to Thrawyn’s, whose lip I had split just yesterday. He was dressed entirely in black with a heavy black cloak dropping from his shoulders. I assumed he was the sheriff from the way he scowled at the other men.

  “What are you waiting for?” he yelled in a powerful bass voice. “Get on with it!”

  “You would do well to heed my word,” I said men
acingly, narrowing my eyes at the men whose feet came up again to kick the stools out from under my boys. Unbelievably, they stopped again and glanced from me to the sheriff, nervously.

  The sheriff looked at his men, stunned. “Why are you listening to a worthless woman, you brainless worms? Kick those stools and let’s get this done!” When the men hesitated, paralyzed from my glare, the sheriff looked at me.

  My glare met his eyes. “What is your name?”

  He flinched at my tone but surprisingly answered me. “Sheriff Kodeyer.”

  “Kodeyer, your men are smarter than you give them credit for.” My glare deepened. “They listen to me.” The Sheriff looked both angry and stunned. “Now, I’m telling you, let these men go.”

  “These men are murderers!” he shouted, pointed at them. “They must be punished by law as murderers.” He gave me a steady gaze. “Unless you think you are above the law—above the sheriff of Narcatertus.” A few people in the crowd laughed.

  My brow simply twitched. “You can ask either one of these men that you have strung up, and they will tell you I have no respect for authority, from sheriffs to the greatest kings in the east.”

  Kodeyer looked up at one of the boys, whom I refused to look at right now.

  Ortheldo’s voice answered the sheriff’s unspoken question. “No truer words were ever spoken.”

  Kodeyer looked back at me.

  “I have no respect for law outside my own,” I said in a low tone of warning. “I will gut you, Sheriff, with no more thought than I would give to cutting off a chicken’s head.” The crowd gasped as the sheriff and I stared at each other. He was measuring me up, wondering if I was telling the truth. I could see him debating with himself whether he should do as I said or rope me up beside the boys.