by Alex Linwood
Portia slid past soldiers until she was next to Sergeant Lyren. “Cover me. I’m going to lay some protective nodes of magic spells. Stay off them for now.” Sergeant Lyren gave her a surprised look and opened her mouth to speak, but Portia didn’t wait. Instead, she ran to the edge of the yard in front of the tower and began laying nodes of magic. She knew the elves could see the nodes, but there were enough humans amongst the cult members to trip the nodes despite that. Portia had never known of a human who could see a node. Instead, the human cult members would barrel over them and activate them. Portia doubted the cult members would advance slowly enough for the elves to guide the humans.
Sergeant Lyren whispered orders to the soldiers behind her. They rustled into place. The heat from the tower itself was increasing. The stones themselves were hot to the touch, and Sergeant Lyren and the soldiers had to step away. Luckily, there were embankments of dirt thick with grass and moss that they could partially hide behind. They ducked down low to keep the fire from highlighting their position and revealing them.
The embankments were the only protection they had. They were lucky the cult members didn’t have catapults.
One of the cult members on the hill had a scroll. Portia glanced up one time while she was working and saw him trying to read it in the dim light. He glanced down the hill at her and their eyes met. She quickly looked away and continued to work, hoping that one of the king’s soldiers was giving her cover. She had to concentrate on the magic she was laying down. But the cult member’s gaze stuck with her. He seemed to have recognized her, although she had never seen him before. Seconds later, she heard him yell, “That’s our target. That’s the Jack. We must get her!”
Portia groaned and ran back to the tower where Sergeant Lyren and the soldiers waited. How did the cult members know who she was? She berated herself for having given away the secret of her magic skills to anyone in the elf kingdom. She should have kept her abilities a secret, at least as much as possible.
Portia nodded at Sergeant Lyren. She had laid down nodes all around the building. She felt exhaustion from the effort, but it was the normal exhaustion she always felt from doing magic, not the life-threatening energy drain that pulled her into the darkness she succumbed to after having been poisoned. Hopefully, the nodes would be enough to help them defend their position until morning. There was no chance of escaping during the night, not while they were surrounded. The best they could hope for would be to make it to daylight and then push through the line surrounding them.
They huddled around the tower, drawing closer to it as the fire inside died out and the stones cooled. Several times during the night, a group of cult members rushed the tower. In the darkness, the attackers would charge the tower and, on their approach, run over nodes of magic. Pillars of fire and ice raced up into the sky, and other times flashes of light exploded in their eyes. It was enough to break the forward momentum so that Sergeant Lyren and the soldiers could pick off the remaining attackers and prevent them from drawing closer. After the fourth such attack, the cult members gave up and the night was quiet. But Portia didn’t trust the peace enough to sleep. She knew Sergeant Lyren had set a watch, but Portia stayed awake as well and watched on her own.
When the dawn came, Portia saw that most of the nodes remained set and untriggered. She could tell because the ground was undisturbed in those areas—there was no melting ice nor scorch marks from fire. The only thing that would not have left a trace were the nodes for light magic, and she knew she had used those sparingly and only interspersed with other magic.
Sergeant Lyren outlined the plan for breaking through the lines while they ate the remains of their bread and cheese from the day before. They had not brought provisions for a second day, so there was little to eat. Hopefully their stags were still tethered off in the forest so they could make a quick escape once they broke through.
The king’s soldiers walked from the tower through an open section in the nodes that snaked around like a maze. The elves led the way since they could easily see the nodes. To their surprise, the cult members charged down the hill from the surrounding area. They had been waiting for the group to leave the tower. But again, the humans led the cult charge, and they ran over the magic nodes and set off the contained magic all at once. In the darkness, the cult had not realized the magic was seeded into the ground. They must have thought Portia and the others were using the magic on them in real time. It was a fortunate stroke of luck for Sergeant Lyren and their group.
When the magic exploded in their faces, the forward members of the charge tried to stop but couldn’t fight the momentum of their charge, for the ones behind them relentlessly pushed them forward even further into the field strewn with magic. The cult members alternately hit fire and ice nodes, first freezing and then burning in flames. Screams filled the air. The king’s Elven soldiers could see the nodes and ran around them, cornering the cult members who had escaped hitting the magic nodes themselves.
After a short, frenetic battle, the screams died down as the cult members stilled. A few had surrendered. Portia looked for the one who had held the scroll last night amongst the survivors but did not see him. Across the field, Sergeant Lyren rolled a body with her foot then leaned over and pulled the scroll from the fallen person. It must be the same cult member.
Portia jogged over to Sergeant Lyren, who was reading the scroll. Portia leaned over her shoulder to look. Sergeant Lyren’s body stiffened and she rolled the scroll back up and handed it to Portia. “Read it. It’s in common.”
Portia’s hands shook as she unrolled the scroll. It was in rough, shaky handwriting, but still legible. It had orders for her death as well as Sergeant Lyren’s and the king of the elves. It described Portia physically, right down to the green outfit she normally wore. Portia’s hands shook even more upon reading that. They must have been spying on her somehow.
Sergeant Lyren called to her soldiers. “We must leave now. This is an order for the killing of the king. Who knows who else this has been sent to or who else is part of this cult.” The soldiers rushed to prepare for transit. All arms were taken from the surviving cult members. Two soldiers were charged with bringing them back to the city, while everyone else was to ride back on the stags.
They raced back to the city. The stags flew through the woods even faster than on their outward trip. Portia was grateful she had tightened the leather around her legs as much as she could. Falling at that speed could be fatal.
Midmorning, they emerged from the woods just outside the city limits. Motion caught Portia’s eye just past the city gates where there was a small road going north towards the countryside. There were several people walking the road, but what caught her attention was a small elf struggling in the grip of a man. She squinted. It was Finrod. What would he be doing out here? Who was holding him?
Portia yelled to Sergeant Lyren, who turned to her with a scowl. They had to get back to the city as quickly as possible, for the king might be in danger. “Sergeant Lyren, that’s Finrod over there. He would not be out here. He lives in the inner city.”
Sergeant Lyren looked in the direction Portia pointed and squinted. She hesitated for a moment then motioned for the guard to come to her. She handed the scroll to the guard. “Take this to your captain.” She motioned for a few of the soldiers to come with her, and the rest to go with the soldier holding the scroll. “Hurry!”
Sergeant Lyren, Portia, and their soldiers raced towards the group by the northern road. It was quick work to disarm the men holding the children captive. Pushing the sleeve of one of them up revealed the diamond tattoo of the cult. Sergeant Lyren swore.
Portia leapt down from her stag and landed in front of Finrod. “What are you doing here?”
Finrod’s frightened look was replaced with happiness when he recognized Portia. “Human.”
“Be nice,” Portia warned. Despite her words, she smiled at the young elf.
“Nice human,” he said, smirking back at her.
She hugged him, and he pushed back at her, pretending he didn’t want the embrace. “Seriously, Finrod. What is going on?”
“You weren’t around, and I was snatched on a trip to see a tailor. My parents need to get better escorts.”
Portia could not agree more, but she was not going to confess that to Finrod. He didn’t need further ammunition for his acerbic remarks.
There were several other children. They must have all been grabbed by the cult members. It would all have to be sorted out within the city. But in the meantime, they had to get back. They needed to see the king.
They left the children with the guards at the gate with strict orders to keep them there until Sergeant Lyren returned, and then they raced into the city. Once they reached the palace, they ran through it to the throne room. The captain of the guard had made it to the palace before them with the scroll and the warning. Guards were throughout the halls of the palace. Advisors and noblemen looked haunted and hunted. They made it to the throne room where King Magnus sat on his throne looking pale. Queen Ceola, normally so composed through all events, was pale as well, wringing her hands in her lap. King Magnus held the parchment taken from the cult member, but he was not looking at it.
No one was speaking when Portia and Sergeant Lyren burst in. It was a tableau. Portia did not understand. She stood there, panting heavily, trying to catch her breath from their run through the palace. Then she felt it: a faint rumbling. The rumbling grew, and grew, and grew. Soon, the thrones were vibrating and rattling underneath the king and queen. The chandeliers above were swinging wildly. The noblemen screeched and then were knocked off their feet with most landing on their rears. It would have been funny if it wasn’t so frightening. Portia fell as well. Only Sergeant Lyren maintained her footing, standing splay legged and riding the wildly vibrating floor.
The rumbling stopped. All motions ceased, leaving only the chandeliers above still swinging lazily. The tinkle of a small stone falling from the rear wall pierced the silence. Portia looked around at the white faces of the elves in the court. “What was that?” No one answered her. “What was that?” she asked again, this time more insistent.
King Magnus, his face drawn and pale, looked at her. “The hourglass has run out. The splintering is upon us.”
Thank you for reading! This author would greatly appreciate it if you could take a moment to leave a short review so others may discover the story.
Read more of Portia’s story in Black Raid.
The Jack of Magic Series
Red Jack
Moss Gate
Black Raid
Iron War
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