Escape: The Seam Travelers Book One

by Jason Nugent

  Seekers were a constant threat. Rhoden and Mortas forced the creatures to stay on constant vigilance. Until Mortas’s appearance, he hadn’t seen one in months, but he also stayed far away from most clusters of people as he lived within the wild mountains.

  If he knew where the seams were, maybe Rhoden did as well. The wily mage wasn’t as proficient as he with his powers, often resorting to storing energy within objects to assist him when he needed it. Phetrix had no need of such tricks. His power and knowledge were so great, he had all he needed. However, as late, he too had been storing magic, especially as he learned new spells he wasn’t as used to casting on a more regular or practical basis.

  Setting off at daybreak, Phetrix hiked down the mountain and entered the forest to the west of Ulti. He worked his way through thick brush and forest overgrown with thistle and vines. It was an unforgiving place, but afforded him the protection he desired from prying eyes of stray seekers.

  “Can Kol be trusted? Are his sources true?”

  Phetrix spoke aloud, giving himself company along the desolate journey.

  Could the drunkard be trusted? Was the King still alive? Maybe he ought to find him first instead of driving headlong into the tear and possibly giving away the location of the heirs.

  After fifteen years of hiding, he wanted something different. “I must find them. Samuel sent me a message. I must heed it. What will come of Chevalon if I ignore his call?”

  Birds chirped and rabbits scurried across dried leaves. The afternoon sun was hidden behind a canopy of bright green and Phetrix moved with a purpose through the forest.

  He didn’t fully trust Kol, but something about his conviction made him at least question it. If he was wrong, what did he lose? Living in the mountain cave brought him no closer to reconciliation with the King. If he did something, maybe he’d have a chance to approach the growing rebellion with the heirs.

  “What am I doing? Running like a fool to try something that will probably kill me or get someone killed. Pah!”

  A nearby squirrel chattered at him when he yelled out.

  Ignoring the pest, Phetrix pushed his way through to a small stream where he rested and sipped the cool water.

  Scanning the sky above for Seekers and the sun, Phetrix decided to stay where he was for the night. He got about as far as he expected and with nightfall, he dared not press his luck.

  When the morning’s crisp air awakened him, he set off again on his trek to the farm and the seam with which to travel to the strange world.

  “How are we going to rid Chevalon of Mortas? What are we going to do once we bring the heirs back? Will they be ready?”

  He hoped so. The entire reason they were whisked away was for their safety and training. As young as they were when Mortas attacked, they didn’t stand a chance to defeat him. They were too young to realize the potential of their power. Hopefully over the years, Samuel would have them ready. Somehow.

  Near midday of the second day, Phetrix stumbled upon a body.

  “What is this?”

  Cautiously, he approached the bloated and decaying body. It appeared to be a man much younger than himself. The man had been huge. Though animals and insects had been devouring it, the frame stretched well over six feet.

  Phetrix scanned the area and noticed a charred circle nearby and when he looked at the entire area, he realized it was once a camp. Grass and leaves smashed in patterns showed where cots lay and people walked.

  “They must have been here for some time. What were they doing out here?”

  Holding his nose, he bent closer to the man hoping to discover what caused his death. There were no obvious signs of struggle or trauma other than a single hole in the center of his forehead. At first he thought it was from an arrow, but it was a perfectly round hole and appeared to have been singed on the inside as though from a bolt of fire.

  “Rhoden? Mortas? There are few with this kind of power.”

  Phetrix moved the man’s leather coat to the side and gasped.

  “The story . . . it is true!”

  The man wore a shirt of linen emblazoned with the sign of King Artus—the white stag.

  “Impossible,” he whispered. The symbol had been wiped from Chevalon by Mortas in the years following his overthrow. This man must have been part of the rebellion, but this far south?

  “What if the King was here?”

  It couldn’t be true, and he knew it the moment he spoke it aloud.

  “So who are you? What did this to you and where are the rest of your people?”

  A chill went up his spine as he considered his discovery.

  Then, a crash in the forest to his right startled him. He crouched, waiting for the intruder. Holding on to his powers, ready to strike at the unwanted visitor, Phetrix leaned closer to the dead, stinking body, trying to use it for cover when a man appeared. Laughing at himself, Phetrix rose.

  “Kol? What are you doing here?”

  Thirty-Five

  KOL EMBRACED PHETRIX, turning away from the dead body.

  “I told you Pendra, my friend’s story was true. Look at the evidence!”

  “But why are you here? How did you find me?”

  “Actually, I wasn’t looking for you. I was trying to find the King to pledge my services to him once again, but all I found was this man. And you!”

  Phetrix took a few steps away, pondering his next move. Should he tell him who he really was? How far did he trust Kol? Could he possibly be serving Mortas?

  “Kol, tell me the truth. Tell me why you’re here.” Phetrix waved his hand, using a spell he hadn’t tried in a long time. If successful, Kol had no choice but to tell the truth.

  “I’ve already said. I’m here to pledge myself to the King.” Kol’s eyes glassed over as the spell took hold.

  “What tavern did we meet in a few days ago?”

  Kol cocked his head to the side. “The Winking Bear. Why?”

  “Who is Mortas to you?”

  “The no good bastard is an evil usurper, killing the royals for pleasure. He wants ultimate power for the price of royal blood. He’s not my lord.”

  Phetrix turned, thought about what he’d do next, when Kol interrupted him.

  “Pendra, would you join me? Come with me and we’ll find the King. He lives, I know it!”

  “Phetrix.”

  “What?”

  “My name is Phetrix.”

  Kol’s face scrunched. “I’ve heard that name. Everyone has. You can’t truly be him. He was a wise—“

  Phetrix raised his hand and produced a ball of light that hovered between them.

  “Mage? You could say that.”

  “But how did you escape? The castle burned!”

  “I’m not easily killed.”

  “But the children! Do you know what happened to them?”

  Phetrix nodded. “They are safe, for now. At least, I believe them to be.”

  “Why hide this from me? We’ve been asking for alms together for a long time now. Why did you never share this before? Why would one of the most powerful mages of all Chevalon be reduced to beggary?”

  Phetrix raised a hand to stop the questions.

  “I’m in hiding much like yourself. Sympathizers to King Atrus are not highly regarded these days. I prefer to keep my head on my shoulders.”

  “But you have great power! You could easily stop any attack!”

  “I’m not invincible nor am I powerful enough to take on an entire army devoted to Mortas.”

  “But . . .”

  Phetrix waved his hand and the light vanished. “I know where the heirs are.”

  Kol’s eyes widened. “You do? Where?”

  “Safe.”

  “Can we bring them to the King? If the rebellion knew they were alive, things might change quickly.”

  “Since when did you become such a noble supporter?”

  Kol hung his head. “I’ve spent far too long with ale. I’ve tried to drown my past and run as far away from it
as possible. When I was in that cell, something happened to me. Hearing that maybe the King still lived sparked a hope within me I hadn’t known for years. Living as we have is meaningless. Living with hope, well that drives a man to do many wonderful things.”

  “Aye that it does. And that brings us to this place with this man, dead and stinking before us. He bears the white stag. If he wasn’t with the King, then he was at least an ally.”

  Kol walked around the dead man, inspecting him carefully.

  “All I see is a hole in his head. What do you think did such a thing?”

  “I can conjure a spell producing tendrils of flame capable of doing such a thing. My guess is someone else has that ability as well.”

  “Rhoden?”

  Phetrix nodded. “He’s also ruthless enough to murder a man with his powers. I estimate he’s been dead about three days. The growth around him and the rot taking over his flesh are no older than that.”

  “Where’s the rest then? If a camp was here, where’d everyone else go?”

  “Kol my friend, that is the mystery of the moment. Now, do we try and figure that out or do we seek the heirs and bring them back?”

  Kol thought about the question carefully then answered. “The heirs. If the King has hidden this long without detection, he can do so a bit longer. If the heirs can be brought back, we will ignite a rebellion far more powerful than whatever it was that did that to the poor man,” he said pointing at the dead body.

  Phetrix smiled. “That’s what I was thinking as well. Shall we go then?”

  “After we bury him. We should respect our dead.”

  “That we shall. We can take care of our friend here and then we’ll be off. Where we’re going, you’ll be amazed.”

  They spent over an hour digging a shallow grave with two thick branches they found and gently laid the dead man within. They covered him and said a quick prayer.

  “Are you ready Kol?”

  “As ready as can be expected. So tell me about where we’re going.”

  “Words will never do it justice. When you see what I’ve seen, you’ll understand.”

  They left the grave behind and together marched toward the north, toward the farm where Phetrix could open the seam and enter into a world far different than their own. Hopefully when they got there, the heirs would be ready. The vision Samuel sent him seemed to indicate something happened, but what?

  Thirty-Six

  PHETRIX AND KOL MOVED carefully through the forest, their gaze constantly going to the sky, wary of Seekers revealing their movement. Kol kept up with Phetrix’s pace, and soon they rested for the night, waiting till the morning to travel again. Once the sun rose, they were off, moving closer to the farm and the unknown beyond.

  “Kol, how well did you know that person in the dungeon with you?”

  “Not well. He and I had been there before, but that’s about it. Why?”

  “I wonder why you felt compelled to believe him? What was it about his story that made you think, ‘Yeah, I can trust him.’”

  “The detail of his story seemed too real. We both saw the result of it. He told the truth. That man we left yesterday is proof!”

  “It’s proof that the rebellion exists, and close to us. What if your friend was a spy? What if he was sent by Mortas to secure more important captives? I still don’t buy the entire story, but I have hope the King lives. If not, we must unite the rebels to the heirs and reclaim this land. Mortas has done great destruction to it all.”

  “He has, huh?” The strange voice made both men spin in the direction from where it came. Two men in black armor with the snowflake of Mortas emblazoned on it were nearby, their swords at the ready.

  “Who might you men be?” Phetrix asked.

  “We do the asking, not you.” The man was large with a stomach to match. His long hair was straight and greasy and scars ran along his face, indicating he’d seen many fights in the past. The other man was thinner, older, and had a gray beard that almost touched the tip of the snowflake. Both looked tired and weary.

  “My name is Pendras and this is my companion Harold. We travel in peace, seeking food and shelter.”

  “Food? Are you daring to defy Mortas by growing your own without his consent? You know the penalty for that, don’t you?”

  Kol puffed out his chest. “Mortas cannot rule like this! He’s not the rightful heir to the throne and his ways are evil. They bring a plague upon the land.”

  What was Kol doing?

  “A rebel, eh? You ready to die for those remarks?”

  The thinner man stepped closer. “You might not want to provoke my friend here. His temper is about as short as he is.”

  Kol stepped even closer. “The heirs will conquer this land and Mortas will be dead.”

  Oh dear Gods, what has he done?

  “An interesting statement from a drunkard. A dark man stepped from behind a large tree. He wore a black brimmed hat and a heavy black cape, but had no emblem on his chest.

  Phetrix felt Kol stiffen beside him. A quick glance showed Kol’s color had drained. The sight was enough to pale his own face. The new arrival stepped closer. He oozed confidence. The sinister sneer suggested he was going to enjoy whatever was about to befall them.

  Closer, Phetrix recognized him as the man from the tavern collecting money, though for what purpose, he still did not know why. Kol’s words came back to him. You don’t want him. He works for Mortas. He’d cut your throat before you got your question out.

  The dark-complexioned man rested one hand on his sword and the other one on his belt. “I’ve been watching the two of you. I think you’re up to no good. In fact, I’d go as far as to say you’re conspiring to overthrow the King. A traitorous notion that will result in your deathes.”

  Phetrix tried to avoid a conflict, though he knew it was already too late. “Please, we don’t want trouble. As this gentleman stated, my friend is a drunkard. He knows not what he’s saying. We’re just two beggars on our way to a new town.”

  Kol objected. “I am not drunk. I haven’t had a drink in weeks. And I don’t regret my words. You are the real traitors. You overthrew the rightful king.”

  The man laughed. “What you’re forgetting drunkard, is that your king has been gone for fifteen years. Mortas rules now.”

  “Well, maybe not for long. Isn’t that right, Phetrix?”

  “Phetrix?” the dark man said. Suddenly he didn’t appear to be so sure of himself. He slipped back allowing the two guards to have clearance. If the guards recognized the name they showed no sign.

  Phetrix watched the reaction from the dark man and knew he had been outed. He had to stop him. If word got out that he was alive, and in the area, no one would be safe.

  The heavier guard rushed toward Kol. Despite his bold words Kol was unprepared for an attack, his rusted sword still hanging from the rope he used for a belt.

  “Treason like that deserves death.,’ the guard said, raising his sword for what he surely believed to be an easy kill. “Do you have any last words?”

  “I do. Goodbye,” Phetrix said. The mage swirled his hands through the air creating a ball of wind and released it at the guards. The powerful blast knocked them both off their feet.

  “He’s a rebel! One of the wicked spell wielders!” the thin guard cried out. The two guards regained their footing and held their swords out, poised to strike.

  Phetrix looked past them searching for the dark man, but he was gone, vanished like a spirit. He turned his attention to the two guards. they stood ready yet reluctant to resume the fight.

  “Come with us and renounce your allegiance. If you refuse, we have the right to execute you on the spot,” the heavier guard said.

  “I doubt they’ll comply, Neff,” the thinner guard said, “Let’s kill ‘em now.”

  Neff, the heavier guard, rushed at the pair. Kol crouched, ready for the man, his rusted weapon ready.

  Phetrix waved his hands again, using spells he hadn’t touched in
years. It was a risk to perform them out in the open like this. If the Seekers found him, they’d be on him quickly. With these two guards, he’d have to make sure they never made it back to Mortas. Then he’d have to find the dark man.

  “Stand aside, Kol!”

  Phetrix released a bolt of fire that struck the thin guard.

  Neff stumbled as he watched his partner burn. “Kreen! No!”

  Phetrix waved his hands and another streak of fire released from his hands and engulfed Neff. The large man screamed in agony.

  “Hurry Kol, take one of their swords and finish them!”

  Kol smashed into Kreen, knocking the burning man over, and wrestled his sword away. Once in his possession, Kol slammed the blade through the burning leather armor into the man, piercing his flesh and killing him instantly. He withdrew the sword and went after Neff.

  The larger man fought against the flames, trying to pat them out.

  Phetrix prepared another blast, but Kol stepped in his way as he was about to release it. Pushing his hands aside, he let it go above Kol’s head, the flames streaking wildly above him.

  Kol spun. “Watch it! You nearly—“

  Neff struck at him with his sword, catching the man in the back, and making him fall to the ground from his weight. Kol struggled with the flaming man who seemed not to be bothered with the fire surrounding him. His flesh turned black and charred but he refused to stop.

  Phetrix waved his hands again, ready to strike, but feared he’d catch Kol in the attack.

  Neff struck Kol with his massive fists, blood bursting from his nose.

  Releasing the flames, Phetrix waved his hands again and created another blast of air. He pushed it at Neff and it knocked the man off Kol.

  Working fast, Phetrix wove a spell of lightning and let it fly toward Neff. It struck his flaming chest and exploded his insides, creating a massive hole where the snowflake was once displayed.