His opponent looked like he wanted to yell at him and swear his revenge, but as he pulled himself forward, pain flared in his arms and legs and his head sagged with a groan. Koli began to exit the cave and a laugh erupted from his throat—loud and manic as if mocking the fallen warrior. As soon as it flared, he clamped his jaw together and lowered his eyepatch, although the laughter continued but was now somewhat muffled.
It appeared he would need to find appropriate entertainment elsewhere. Oh, he had forgotten to take his signet. He shrugged it off. No matter, he was sure Zed would have some to spare.
Chapter Forty
It didn’t take long for Devol to reach the abandoned town of Reverie, nor did it take him long to find signs of battle. He had counted at least three corpses along the way, and various buildings, already in states of disrepair and weathering, were now either all but destroyed or bore the scars of misfired spells, arrows, and bullets.
When he reached the mouth of the cave, traces of mana lingered from fired spells but he found no signs of life. It seemed that whoever had fought there had retreated into the caves. It made sense. There was no point in looking around the wide-open areas up top when everyone would eventually have to enter the caves to reach the finish line. He wasn’t sure Jazai or Asla was down there. After he tried his a-stone, he realized that they didn’t connect, for some odd reason, and it certainly wasn’t distance. But given that they all had to return to the same point, the odds were good that he would find them there.
He took the path they initially followed to arrive in the second-heart chamber and hoped to detect their mana during his journey. Although the caves were vast and dangers lurked below, he knew he could find his friends as long as he even got a trace of their mana. After months of training together, he knew their essence well.
As his mana-fueled stride carried him deeper within, he retrieved the signets he had taken from the archer and warrior, including those the man had collected from his defeated quarry. With his, he had five in total. With only one more, he would have the necessary number to pass the trial, which honestly wasn’t bad for roughly ten minutes of fighting. But as he looked up again, he also realized that he must have misremembered the directions because none of this looked familiar. Then again, caves did look rather alike, so maybe he was still on the right path and he was merely a little confused.
Once he rounded a corner, however, his gaze settled on a small path that had tracks installed for mines carts—something he would certainly recall—and he acknowledged that he was lost. He considered retracing his steps to try one of the different passages when the earth around him shook. A cave-in seemed a likely scenario, but the noisy rumbling made him check to see if any golems or large beasts emerged from the dark. Nothing lumbered into view and a moment later, he sensed mana flaring and animas in battle, which told him there was combat nearby.
Devol put the signets away and set off quickly in the direction of the fights. He couldn’t seem to grasp the essence of the mana as it was oddly diluted. All he could tell for now was that that there were magi nearby and he wanted to take a look. His path eventually brought him to an open ledge carved along the top of another chamber. He looked down at two figures who fought a much larger one. The wildkin who worked with Zed—Asla had called him Ramah—held a large hammer in his hands and stared at his two adversaries as they prepared spells to fling at the gorilla.
He snorted, hunched his massive shoulders, and charged forward without so much as a yell or cry. With surprising calm, he simply stampeded toward the other two while he held his hammer back. The other two magi fired their spells. One seemed to lob a volley of mana missiles and the other launched a group of lightning bolts.
Ramah raised his hammer in midstride and presented his chest, and both spells pounded into the armor. The mana missiles simply evaporated on contact and the lightning struck the chest plate and bounced to the side to careen into the cavern walls.
The wildkin swung his hammer and the head flared purple before it impacted with the ground and released a wave of magical force. One of the magi was able to leap away, although the impact of the wave flung him farther than he had probably planned. The other seemed to attempt to blink away, but either he mistimed it or something was affecting him because he had a mixture of confusion and dread on his face as the wave rolled into him, picked him up, and hurled him and many sharp shards of rock into the cavern wall behind him. His body hung on the wall, both indented into it and with several spines of rock bored into his body.
With one of his adversaries dealt with, the wildkin merc looked at the other magi, who by this time, had recovered and now ran to one of the passages and threw up a feeble ward to block it off as he continued his swift retreat away from the massive fighter.
Devol studied the victor’s armor and weapon. The armor seemed rather plain—a simple silver breastplate and gauntlets over an orange shirt—with the exception of a small shimmer he could barely make out. It was clearly enchanted, which most likely made it an exotic. The hammer was also likely an exotic, but it did not have the unique details of the archer’s bow or the warrior’s ax. It simply looked like a large mallet but then again, in their age when exotics came in various fancy forms that would let even the most naïve magi know their design, perhaps more rudimentary weapons would be more fitting for a sellsword.
Ramah did not pursue the other magi. Instead, he lowered his hammer and looked at the man stuck in the wall. He approached the body and placed a finger on the man’s neck to check his pulse, shrugged indifferently when he founded nothing, and dug in his pockets to remove his signet. He placed it in a satchel on his waist and turned his head slowly toward Devol. “Will you simply continue to watch?”
The swordsman leaned forward and moved his hand to his sword. When it came down to it, he preferred fight over flight. But Ramah did not lift his hammer and instead, he placed it against the wall and walked into the middle of the chamber. “I won’t attack if that’s your concern,” he stated flatly and folded his large arms. “Not unless you attack first.”
He hesitated. The wildkin’s manner of speech certainly seemed civil and he even felt his anima subsiding, although it didn’t disappear completely. He wasn’t a fool, it seemed. After a moment’s thought, the boy dropped from his view and landed a few meters away from the wildkin. “You do know that the trial is still going on?”
Ramah flicked a thumb at the body. “You saw me take his signet, right?”
Devol nodded. “But you aren’t attacking me?”
He shrugged. “It’s not in me to attack children, not unless they are spiteful.”
“I try my best not to be.” The boy’s hand moved slightly away from his majestic.
The large wildkin chuckled, unclipped a canteen from his belt, and took a swig. “Then you were raised right enough.” He offered the canteen to the young magi, who refused politely. With another shrug, he screwed the cap on. “Tell me, that wildkin with you—the girl—was that Asla Wilekit?”
“You know Asla?” he asked and immediately covered his mouth with his hand. Perhaps he shouldn’t give that information out so freely.
“I know of her,” he explained and hung the canteen on his belt. “I saw her a few times in the kingdom when her tribe would come to trade. It’s a damn shame what happened to them. The bounty on that madman is probably higher in the wildkin lands than in Renaissance and Britana combined.” He sighed and rolled his shoulders. “I’m glad to see another of my kind making their own way. It’s better to live their own lives than in the service of others.”
Devol lowered his hand. “We’re both Templar recruits,” he stated. “She intends to help people one day and already has, in point of fact.”
This seemed to interest the wildkin, who studied him curiously. “Did she choose the life?”
He nodded. “She was not forced into this life, but she was brought to the Order after…I suppose whatever you referred to. She has not talked about it much.”
&nbs
p; “Then maybe I should keep my trap shut,” Ramah reasoned and folded his arms again. “Let me ask you something, kid—why were you and your friends working with that creep Koli?”
The swordsman looked at the ground, not completely sure how to answer. “It was an odd situation,” he said finally. “He tried to kill us before.”
The wildkin snorted. “From what I understand, that’s usual for him.”
“Can I ask you something as well?” Devol requested and waited for a small nod before he continued. “Why are you working with Zed? I guess I don’t know much about him, but he doesn’t seem the pleasant type. And you seem to be rather gentle.” He glanced at the battered body. “In a sense.”
Ramah shrugged and walked to his hammer. “I wasn’t raised for much more than the life of a mercenary,” he admitted, picked the hammer up, and harnessed it on his back. “Many of my kind, especially the big ones, are thought of as little more than muscle, and history seems to confirm that we are quite good at it.” He dug in his satchel and took out four signets. “How has your run been so far, young one?”
The boy, despite his better judgment, took his five signets out. “To be fair, I only defeated two magi so far and—” He looked at the archer’s red crown signet. “One of them was your friend the archer.”
“Ayade?” the wildkin questioned and received only a shrug in response. He peered closer at the signets, noticed hers, and chuckled. “Does she live?”
Devol nodded and stowed the signets securely. “She does. I saw no reason to kill her. She even helped me defeat a warrior magi…well, before she attempted to mug me.”
“That’s typical of her as well.” He snorted. “We aren’t close. She’s not a great conversationalist that one. If you had killed her it would be a matter of honor, but if she is simply defeated, that’s her loss. I would watch your back from now on, though.”
He proceeded to walk to the barrier and rested his hands on his hips as he examined it. “This is shoddy work. Wards aren’t my specialty but even I could probably manage something like this. I assume he was a little preoccupied with wetting himself and all.” Ramah made a fist and raised his arm. The same purple glow surrounded it before he punched the barrier and it shattered instantly. “I wasn’t even hunting those idiots. I guess they thought I was nothing more than a lumbering oaf they could eliminate with a few fancy spells.”
“Don’t you want to fight?” the swordsman asked and focused on the wildkin.
“Do you?” Ramah looked over his shoulder but didn’t even attempt a defensive stance.
He considered it. “Well…I think we’re supposed to. But I did recently finish a fight and I’m looking for my friends now.”
“Same with me,” the wildkin replied and stroked his chin. “Well, my comrades would probably be more accurate. But either way, there are more signets laying about, more magi who seem more eager for a fight than you, and I’m sure that by now, Zed probably has a couple to spare. He might even have the sister signet and all these others are merely trophies.”
A thought occurred to the boy. “Do you know where Zed is?”
Ramah shrugged again. “I have a rough idea. We were teleported together but were separated during our fights and he seemed quite determined to go after Koli.” He turned and gazed questioningly at him. “Why? Do you want a crack at him?”
Devol shook his head. “I suppose I should as he is using a malefic and it is our duty to take them, but that wasn’t what I was thinking in this case.” He retrieved his original signet and showed it to his companion. “Koli has my sister signet.”
The wildkin frowned. “You have almost enough that you only need one more to pass, yet you still want that one?” His frown turned into a small grin. “I can appreciate that.”
“Would you mind me accompanying you?” he asked and hoped to have a safer passage with a large hammer-wielding magi at his side to keep an eye on him in case this all turned out to be a façade.
Ramah considered it for a moment. “You don’t worry about me turning on you?”
Devol put his signet away and shrugged. “I suppose you could, but I don’t think you would find me an easy target. I’m more than a child.”
The wildkin chuckled and beckoned him to come forward. “It’s almost a shame things worked out all right for you. Without a doubt, you could have been a good merc.”
Chapter Forty-One
After she’d managed to escape the crimson-infested catacombs, Asla now stood in another large chamber, but this one wasn’t as dark. Directly ahead of her, a dim light glowed from the top of a steep cliff. Cautiously, she checked her surroundings to make sure there was no more of the hallucinogenic ore around before she considered her options.
She could attempt to climb up the stone face, she decided. It was certainly doable for her, even if she felt weary. Her other option was to walk around the ravine for another passageway—something that made her nervous given her last not so casual stroll.
The first option certainly held the most appeal. Her nails extended as she approached the cliff face. She traced the stones and frowned when she realized that they were damp, something that seemed incongruous in the middle of these caves. Curious, she dug her claws into the stone and her mana-infused nails gained purchase.
Yes, she could climb this with ease, and with the glowing lights above at least hinting at some kind of hospitality, she was willing to take the chance. She began her ascent and moved quickly as she ascended to the ridge above. As she continued to climb, she could detect noises from somewhere in the caves—possibly other participants or possibly more illusions—but she ignored them for now.
Something landed on her face and hair. She looked up and noticed drops of water falling off the edge of the ridge. Most hit the sides of the cliff that protruded but as she continued to ascend, some landed on her. They felt oddly refreshing, more than enough to cool her in the humid caves.
Once she reached the top and clambered over the ridge, she almost slipped on the smooth, wet flooring. The entire area was flooded by a thin veneer of water. A short distance ahead was a large pond with glowing blue rocks around it—cobalt, she realized instantly. She walked closer and checked her mana. There were no fluctuations and in fact, it felt strengthened so she was not caught in any illusion.
She knelt beside the body of water and slid her hand in. It was cool but not frigid and she scooped a small handful, splashed it on her face, and immediately felt refreshed. She took her shoes off, sat on the edge of the pond, and slid her feet into the water with a contented sigh. A quick respite was indeed welcome.
The incident she had endured not too long before remained with her, but this oasis made her recall another memory, one that happened soon after she was brought into the Templar Order. Freki and a group of other wildkin Templars had found her alone in the forest. They had initially only brought her back for safety and to determine what had happened to her tribe. Once they realized she had nowhere to return to, however, Nauru offered her sanctuary and the other wildkin watched over her, her mentor in particular.
When the grand mistress had initially offered her a place there to stay, all she could muster was a nod and for weeks, she could manage little more. She would eat maybe once a day and seldom left the room provided for her. Templars would come by to try to talk, tell her stories, and generally try to cheer her up, but nothing was able to shake the visions of the man who had taken her parents and friends away from her.
Freki was the one who tried the hardest and eventually succeeded. Even in her solitary state, she had noticed that he was the odd one. His appearance was fearsome, a wolf wildkin with dark, wild fur and amber yellow eyes. He had pointed ears and rows of sharp teeth, and his speaking voice was deep and growly, but the way he spoke showed someone truly trying to make a connection with a youngling and being quite inexperienced at it.
One day, he was able to coax her out of her room and took her through a portal to a scenic riverside somewhere in Britana. Asla
had taken baths during the time she had been in the castle, but they were simply for hygiene, not enjoyment. When she wandered to the river, she slid her feet into it and let it wash over her as the sun shined on her after so long.
She had never determined whether what Freki did next was intentional or not. It didn’t seem like something a skilled hunter would fall prey to so maybe it was another way to try to cheer her up—one that had worked. Then again, after she’d come to know him better, she’d realized that he could be quite a klutz when not on a mission.
The wolf wildkin had scooped a little water in his hand upriver and drunk thirstily. As soon as he had done so, however, he began to choke before he spat a fish into the water. His panicked eyes and frantic coughing—almost excessively exaggerated—had finally teased a laugh out of the youngling, which in turn drew a smile from the older wildkin.
After that, he sat beside her and they were quiet for some time, and he was the first to speak. “I know that this may not be much but for now, I’m glad you have smiled again, youngling.”
Asla was as well. She pressed her knees close to her chest and hugged her arms around them. “Thank you for saving me. I don’t think I have ever said that.”
“There’s no need for that,” he assured her and rested his hand gingerly on her shoulder. “I would never—we would never—leave someone in need in that position.” He clenched his teeth for a moment. “I’m so sorry we were not there to stop them.”
She grew quiet again and Freki’s hand loosened as he began to worry that he should not have brought it up that directly. “You have been so nice to me—you all have,” she began and looked at him. “But you have checked on me every day. You seem so concerned and I see sadness in your eyes but also understanding.” She placed her small hand over his. “Did…did something happen to you as well?”
The Oblivion Trials (The Astral Wanderer Book 3) Page 22
