by Justin Sloan
CHAPTER TWENTY
Rhona and Kia had been through the loop more times than they could count now, each time trying something different, but each time failing. They would blink and be back in the dungeon, painfully aware that they were somehow trapped in the spell of the sorcerer Wodain.
They just sat there on the stone floor, backs to the stone wall, staring without focus.
“Two points give me hope,” Rhona said, turning to Kia. “One, it’s entirely possible the two of us haven’t actually used any magic, that this was all in our minds… and we’re still full of energy. I’m not sure they’ve thought of this.”
“Which does us no good if we can’t escape,” Kia pointed out.
“And that’s the second point. Magic wears out the user, right? That’s my understanding of it anyway.”
“So, when it wears out…” Kia’s face lit up with excitement.
“Exactly. That’s when we make our move.”
“But how will we know.”
Rhona smiled. “I can’t be certain, but either I’ve gotten so used to the purple light that I’m not noticing it anymore… or it’s gone.”
Kia bolted upright, looking around with wide eyes. “How come I didn’t notice?”
“You too?”
Kia nodded vigorously as she made for the door.
“Not that way,” Rhona said. “Something else crossed my mind while we were in the loops of our minds trying to escape… and it’s that I thought I was in control of my magic. In reality, I doubt I could control them. Not to that extent anyway.”
“What do we do then?”
“We have to act fast, but first… you need to teach me.”
“Teach you? You mean how to use magic?”
Rhona nodded.
“You’ve gone insane here, is that it?” Kia held her hands to her head, as if trying to pull something out of there. “My dad’s been teaching me since I was born, even before he knew if I had magic or not. We have to move, now.”
“Not everything, just the basic idea. How is it you call on fire when none’s around? None of the others do that.”
“I just… I don’t know. I guess I thought of it differently, like heat is all around us, the ability to make fire is everywhere, so why not?”
“You see, this is perfect.” Rhona stood, too, getting excited. “You’re telling me that, because you believed it to be, it was. It all makes so much sense now.”
“I’m guessing you’re going to waste more time and tell me how.”
“Yes! But, just bear with me. I always had my doubts about the paladins’ beliefs. When they talked of magic, a passion burned within me. Only, I was against what they stood for. And what do paladins stand for? Or rather, what sort of magic do they use?
“Light.”
“Exactly!” She smiled wide, feeling her voice rising in spite of herself. “And so it makes sense that my magic would manifest itself as a control of shadows, or darkness, because I wanted so badly to know magic and was so against the light.”
“Holy sh—”
“Language.” Rhona held up a finger for another second. “And that’s why we’re getting out of here.”
“What, why? Because I almost swore?”
“Not at all. Because I believe in my powers. Because I believe they’re within me, waiting to burst out, and that I can come at those bastards out there with more than they’ve ever experienced in their whole lives.”
“Then let’s do it instead of standing around talking, please.”
Rhona laughed, and then said, “This might be dangerous. I don’t really know what I’m doing.” She held out a hand, and the girl tentatively took it. “Ready?”
“Oh, my god, aye.”
“Good.” And with that, she closed her eyes and focused on opening herself up to her powers, unleashing them from the inside.
Nothing happened for a moment, but then Rhona cleared her mind and focused on nothing else, only the magic.
The air rippled and suddenly the shadows exploded outward, breaking down the wall behind them so that there was nothing
“Was that you?” Kia asked, her hand shaking in Rhona’s.
“I can’t quite control it,” Rhona replied. “It’s more like I focus on a desire, and somehow that desire is achieved, providing I have enough energy.”
“So… aye?”
“So, I think so.”
“It’s a way out.” Kia pulled Rhona forward and the two ran out of the broken wall and into a wasteland of ruins. Usually, Rhona might have thought it odd that this child was leading her, but with the way she was staggering after using magic, it didn’t bother her.
“Shite,” Rhona said at the sight of it all, only vaguely aware of Kia’s glance and comment on watching her language.
In spite of it being dark, the whole area was lit up by various fires surrounded by groups of remnant.
She had never seen anything like this. Their dungeon hadn’t been in a castle at all, but some old building with tall, metallic walls and black glass windows. It was broken in places with vines growing over it, but was still the most intact building from the old days that she had ever seen.
Before them lay similar ruins and what seemed like miles of concrete chunks, overturned cars and trucks, a crashed airplane, and more oddities that she had come to know the names of but had rarely seen. Some of it was overgrown like the lands of the Order of Rodrick, but other areas were cleared out.
Unfortunately, they didn’t have time to linger and take in the sights, as the sound of the exploding wall had attracted the attention of the remnant from outside and, judging by the storm clouds beginning to form overhead, at least one of the sorcerers.
“Can I start swearing now?” Kia asked.
“Better to save your breath and run,” Rhona replied, ignoring her exhaustion. The two were moving past rubble, torn between watching where they placed their feet to avoid falling on the one side, and watching the oncoming remnant on the other.
“Would it be childish to say I want my daddy right about now?”
“I’d say you’re a child, so that’s perfectly fine.” Rhona helped lift her over a piece of debris that stuck up at an angle with metal sticking out of it. “In fact, I’d love for anyone to be here right now!”
The remnant were slowed by the debris laying all around, but they were certainly closing in.
“Come up with a plan!” Kia shouted as the two ran and slid down a hill.
Rhona screamed out in pain as one of the metal rods sticking out of another block of concrete caught her across the shin, but at least it didn’t draw blood. She helped Kia up and looked around frantically.
“If I use my powers and collapse, you can’t carry me.”
“Got it,” Kia said, lifting her hands and preparing to strike. Rhona had to give it to her, the little girl frowning in determination even as her eyes conveyed her fear. “Um, where should I hit?”
“Wait for it,” Rhona said, and together they ran for a small structure nearby.
“Now?”
“Not yet, wait until—”
A figure lumbered out of the structure, a tall remnant wearing nothing but rags that hung from his rotting body. The putrid smell of him caught in the wind and was almost enough to make Rhona lose consciousness right there.
Her brother had taught her well, all those years in the castle, so she hefted up a block of concrete as she ran and heaved it with both hands. It clanged against the remnant’s arms as he blocked the blow, but he shouted out in pain. It was enough to distract him at least, and cause him to drop the club he held. She scooped it up and struck with all her might.
The blow hit him on the head, a solid impact that sent pain up her forearms. But he just turned to look at her, and leered.
“Now,” Rhona muttered.
“What?” Kia asked.
“For the love of the Saint, NOW!”
Kia didn’t need to be told a third time. She stepped up to Rhona’s side and grab
bed her, then closed her eyes and moved a hand in a circle above her head. A wave of flames flew out from the two of them, leaving every remnant within twenty feet writhing in flames on the ground.
The loss of energy was instant, and Kia collapsed into Rhona’s arms.
It was dark behind the concrete structure, and that’s where Rhona carried the girl. Each step caused aches in Rhona’s back and legs, but she pushed on, knowing that if she just made it past the light of the flaming remnant, they could hide, undetected.
That is, she realized, until the mystic, if that’s what he was, regained his energy to search them out.
And if she was still here when that happened, she wouldn’t be able to use magic without him knowing.
She gulped, realizing that hiding wasn’t the answer. The only way out of here was if she gave full control to the magic. It was a gamble, but one she knew she had to take.
Closing her eyes and holding Kia tight to her chest, she ignored the screams of the remnant and the rushing winds from the storm above, even the call of a sorcerer who had spotted her and was suddenly at her side. She ignored the change in the shadows as she sensed him reaching out for her, and then she was gone, one with the night, one with the darkness.
Kia was with her, the two of them moving with the wind, flying almost, and then they saw it in the distance, a light… a faint, beating light. Almost like a heartbeat.
It’s him, she realized as the darkness carried them toward it. Everything was spinning, and she realized her magic couldn’t hold them much longer. They weren’t going to reach her brother, but they at least knew in which direction to find him, and that he was out there.
With a flood of moonlight, the two were flying through the air across a grassy meadow, then hit the ground hard and went rolling.
A thud sounded beside her, and then she, too, hit the side of a hill with a jolt like being woken by a bucket of cold water.
All energy was gone.
The best she could hope for was a turn of her head, where she was able to make out the form of Kia struggling to sit up. A moment later Kia’s face was over hers, and she was crying over Rhona, saying they had made it, and, “Thank you.”
But as Kia buried her head on Rhona’s chest, the storm clouds began to roll in. The winds picked up, and there was no doubt… they had escaped the remnant, but the danger was far from over.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Laughter woke Alastar, and he saw that it was dark outside of the hut. Several others had laid out bedding and fallen asleep, including Donnon and some strangers.
The door creaked open as Alastar moved quietly into the night, and as he cleared his head, he tried calling on the light fairy again. Nothing.
What if it never returned? He considered a scenario where he would have to wander the lands with the goal of finding his sister, but no clue where to start. The remnant hadn’t found the village, at least. That likely meant they either didn’t have the intelligence to follow a path, or had obtained what they came for—Rhona—and pulled back.
He was willing to bet it was a bit of both, but mostly the latter.
Several clanspeople around the fire turned as he approached, and Lokane beckoned him over. They scooted to make room, and one of the men handed him a mug.
“The others went to sleep later than you did,” Lokane said, clinking his own mug against Alastar’s. “I hope we didn’t wake you.”
“Not at all.”
The fire flickered, sending shadows dancing across the others’ faces, and one leaned in with a sneer. “It true your type ain’t never… you know?” He glanced at the woman by his side who looked like she was about to hit him, and laughed. “What, I’m just curious how a man can make that as a conscious decision. I could never imagine a life without your sweet, sweaty body pressed against mine in the act of—ow, OW!”
She had stood now, hitting him repeatedly, and then shoved him backward off of the log.
“Please excuse my crass husband,” she said. “He’s an idiot.”
“Aren’t we all?” Lokane said with a chuckle. “The idiot’s name is Luke, and you’ll see he’s not so bad. At least, after you’ve told him all your secrets.”
Luke was standing now, brushing dirt off his shoulders from where they’d hit the ground. “It’s a pleasure,” he said with venom in his voice.
“It wasn’t he that pushed you,” Luke’s wife reminded him.
Not knowing what to do in this situation, Alastar simply took a swig from his mug, flinching a bit at the heavy ale.
“I forgot,” Lokane said, looking sheepish and reaching back for the mug. “The vows don’t allow for ale either, right?”
“Screw ‘em,” Alastar said, and took another swig. “Thing with vows is, they only make sense until they don’t. I think it’s time to make some new vows, based on what I’ve learned recently.”
“You wanna vow to serve me to the end of your days?” Luke asked, his playfulness returning. “I accept.”
Ignoring the man, Alastar went on. “More along the lines of vowing not to stop until these sorcerers have answered for their crimes. No rest until my sister and Kia are free, and we uncover what larger plot is going on here.”
“Aye, that’s a vow we can all take,” Estair said as she walked up to the fire and wiggled her way onto the log beside him.
“We’re not all mages,” Luke said. “Not even fighters.”
“Ask the sorcerers if that’ll matter when they’re about to kill you and your family.”
Luke’s wife frowned, then said, “And if all they wanted was this paladin’s sister, what then?”
Alastar shook his head. “They want her for the power she represents. Magic they’ve never seen before that they think they can harness to control the world. Tell me, when’s the last time someone controlled the world through violence without hurting anyone?”
“We’ve stayed hidden from you folk for many years… what’s a hundred more?”
“You don’t get it,” Estair chimed in on Alastar’s side. “This isn’t about surviving this lifetime, it’s about having a world worth living in for generations to come.” She leaned forward, her voice crisp and full of determination. “There was a time before the Age of Madness, or before that, who knows, when these ruins around us were real. There was civilization and, I’d be willing to bet, rule of law. Peace. Prosperity. Call me idealistic, but dammit, I want that and more.”
“You’re damn right I’ll call you idealistic and then some,” Luke spat back. “That’s a dream! All of that technology stuff is beyond us. People who lived long ago and drove things called buses and lived in buildings called Wallma, or whatever the hell those buildings were for, but not anymore. We get by with what we can, because it’s the only option available.”
“By the spirits,” Estair stood now, her voice rising. “Do you hear yourself? It’s only been slightly more than fifty years since the end of the Age of Madness. That’s nothing! And how far have we recovered to date? We have homes, castles even. We’ve come so far in our understanding of magic, magic I might remind you, that our grandparents claim to have had no knowledge about. Where is that coming from, huh? Nowhere? Or, is it just possible, that we’re meant for bigger things?”
Luke simply stared back at her, along with the others, and finally, Estair realized this. She cleared her throat, glanced around, and sat.
“Sorry,” she said. “I just… get so worked up over this.”
“You’re not kidding,” Alastar said, then stiffened as she leaned against his shoulder.
“When the time comes, you’ll all know what to do.” She wrapped an arm around his waist and, after a moment, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
A couple of the others started mumbling about going to bed and getting some rest, but Alastar and Estair sat there like that, staring into the flames and watching them dance.
He couldn’t imagine how he’d survived this long in life without feeling this sensation of a woman in his arm
s. But no, it wouldn’t have done to have just any woman in his arms. This woman was what made the difference.
He felt her squeeze gently and then noticed her nodding off, and he, too, felt his eyelids growing heavy again. Even though he’d slept all afternoon and part of the evening, he could still sleep more, he was certain.
Through a sleepy haze, he watched the embers flare red and yellow, then turn to black. Except for one little flame that danced at the fire’s edge.
A flame with a small face, like a gentle woman, looking up at him, smiling.
The fairy!
He darted up, almost knocking Estair over, but she was up a moment later, and there they both were, shouting in excitement.
“The fairy!” he said.
“The spirit,” she shouted. “It’s real.”
“What’s all this?” Donnon asked, running from the hut, followed closely by Gordon. “Holy…”
“It’s time,” Alastar said. “We must gear up and leave immediately.”
The next few minutes were a chaotic dash to throw all their belongings together, while the fairy danced around Alastar, constantly trying to run off, but being pulled back to him as if by an invisible rope.
Gordon led them to the town armory, where Donnon found himself a great battle-ax, Estair chose fighting knives and a bow and arrow, and Gordon took a broadsword.
“I’m not sure you want it,” Gordon said, kneeling to move a rabbit skin cloak from a trunk. When he opened the trunk, there was a set of nearly pristine paladin armor, complete with a cloak. “As you can guess, it wasn’t given to us, so if you can get over the means in which we acquired it, it’s yours.”
“Do you think it wise to travel the lands as a paladin?” Alastar asked.
The others hesitated, looking at each other.
“It might get us out of a tight spot,” Estair offered. “If nothing else.”
“The remnant might be more intimidated by it,” Donnon said, “and the paladins might think twice about attacking if they see one of their own.”
Alastar commenced with putting on the armor. He glanced over at the fairy and nodded, then said to the others, “Come, enough time has been wasted. We must be on the move.”
