It was as Cole Feared. The Colossus was a never-ending nightmare from which Lexy could never wake. His heart wept for her. “I think Habbad broke. Something snapped in him. His sister was at the bottom of one of the towers, right in front of us. Kreed made us watch her burn and turn into one of those…things. A chosen. I want to believe that Kreed put a spell to lure Habbad, but I think he went willingly to the Colossus. He wasn’t the same. Did you see the look in his eyes?”
Roth grunted. “I saw, and those are my thoughts as well. Ever since I first saw the little shrike I knew he had some taint in him. I’d wager he spent a bit too much time with Kreed. The darkness was pooled so deep in him we were bound to see it sooner or later. The Three revel in the worst parts of a person, and they have ways of drawing your demons out.” Roth locked eyes with Cole, raising a bladed eyebrow. “The Habbad you know is dead. Grieve him if you must, then move on. He and Storn won’t be the only friends you lose in this war.”
They ate in silence. Cole found himself full before long, falling back and rubbing his bulging belly. Roth kept working his way through the first sereph and then half of the second. He may have been a giant among giants but the serephs were no small meal. It didn’t make sense to Cole how the man could put so much food away. Where did it all go?
Seeing his confusion, Roth instructed Cole to draw upon his Rage while he ate, explaining how the magic increased his metabolism and converted the food to raw energy. Cole called upon his Rage, fingers stretching with a painful yet satisfying ache. Within minutes his gurgling stomach shrank as his skin tightened over growing muscles, leaving him with renewed vigor and hunger. He ate his stomach full twice more before succumbing to an overwhelming need for sleep. He fought to stay awake, but it was a fight he couldn’t win. Roth encouraged him to sleep with a blast of Passion, knocking him so thoroughly unconscious that not even Cole’s nightmares could find him.
When Cole’s eyes snapped open he found himself freezing, terrified, and coughing on what felt like cold fire. The hollow rushing of liquid told him he was under water. Thrashing and coughing, he righted himself and stood in knee-deep water. Roth was next to him. Steam rose from his unshrouded skin as he waded out, dunking his blond hair in the river.
Cole shivered, hacking up water. He waited for Roth’s head to pop back through the surface. “You could have just woke me up you know!” he shouted through chattering teeth.
Roth wrung his hair out, his hands oddly small without their sweeping munisica. “A falling tree wouldn’t have roused you. You’ve slept for nearly half a day. Wash up and get ready for a long run. There’s been a development while you were snoring.”
Cole didn’t much care for the developments at the moment. The river’s icy hands ripped at him with every shrill heartbeat. “How am I supposed to wash up in this? This water is freezing my teeth shut!”
“Then warm it up, whelp. I shouldn’t have to explain such things to a warrior from The Sill.” The water around Roth bubbled, steam rising as he dunked his head back under.
With an effort, Cole shifted his thoughts to Wisdom. He quickly discovered that there was no way for him to heat an area larger than his fist. It required too much of his focus to maintain the spell in moving water, and the surrounding river was much too cold. He instead transferred the heat to his skin. The heat was barely adequate, but his limbs stopped shivering and his teeth no longer clicked.
“Much better,” Roth said as he donned his munisica and shroud. “You no longer smell like the wrong side of a bog angel.”
Cole sloshed out of the water onto the sandy shore. “I’m just glad that junk’s off me. I never thought a fight would be so gross afterwards. There were bits of priest all over me. Next time I’ll be… cleaner about it. Some of that stuff I scraped off my armor…I don’t even want to know where it came from.” Cole disrobed and slapped his cloth armor onto a flat rock.
Roth growled with laughter. “When you dispatch an entire coven of Sorronis’s priests like you did, cleanliness is not your top priority. Though if you could come out the other side without a speck of gore on you, then you might be a step closer to a master’s control of the magic. Rage as hot as yours burns the mind. The only way to douse those flames is with buckets of your enemy’s blood.” He paused, inspecting Cole’s nearly naked body. Roth crouched and placed a glowing emerald claw over the cloth armor.
Cole yelped and took a step back as steam rose like a geyser from the cloth armor. Seconds later, Roth tossed him his freshly dried laundry. “Thanks, Master Roth.” Cole hastily donned the clothes, which were pleasantly warm and dry.
“Believe me it wasn’t a favor. We don’t have time to wait for you to figure out how to dry your own clothes. Chiron contacted me while you were sleeping. We need to get to Oberon’s temple and I don’t want you whining about chafing while we run.” He looked up at the sky, which looked as if a sun were about to rise. “Shame that coward-baileen fled at Costas. I’m not sharp enough with Passion to contact it at this distance. The beast could have us there in less than a day.”
As Cole buckled the final strap an idea came to him. He searched the recesses of his mind for Goran’s primal link, which was much easier to find now that he was rested and fed.
Goran perked his head up from the back of the baileen, pointing his crimson eyes in the direction of his bonded friend. He was hungry. He was tired. He missed his Cole. Gentle fingers scratched under his chin. He liked that. The one who smelled like new rain locked eyes with him. A challenge? No, a message. She had a message for his Cole. Words of the two-legs.
“Cole, if you can hear me I need you to re-establish the link between us. I cannot do it alone,” said a familiar, garbled voice.
Cole opened his eyes, finding Roth standing expectantly beside him. Cole looked to his master, joy shaking his voice: “Goran’s safe! He’s safe and on the baileen! Eliza’s there too. She wants me to re-establish the link with her.”
Roth folded his arms across his armored chest, “Then why are you staring at me like I’m some pretty flower? Get to it.”
Cole’s cheeks flushed hotter than his clothes. “I’m new at this, so it’ll take me a second… I’m not hesitating,” he added, ignoring Roth’s impatient growl.
He relaxed his mind, taking a moment to enjoy his warm clothes and full belly. Sitting seemed more suitable for this task, so he found the flat rock and rested himself on it. He closed his eyes and plugged his ears, listening and looking within himself. He could feel familiar whispers, but nothing with substance. Cole tuned his empathy, almost like a radio, but the station was one that only he and Eliza knew. Within that link was contained all of the pain and heartache from their losses, both from Deekus and Joshy. Cole watched through watery eyes as a tear splattered to the leathery back of a baileen.
“Eliza.”
“Cole! It lightens my heart to feel your thoughts. Are you and Master Roth safe?” Strands of worry crept into their link.
“Yes, we are perfectly fine. I’m not sure where we are, but we’re about to head to Oberon Temple. What about the rest of the unit? Is everyone okay?” he asked, widening their link. He didn’t bother hiding his affection for Lileth. Deceit was impossible through the link.
She sent him images of Sitra and Valen, then indulged his concern and lingered over Lileth. They all smiled softly and tired into Eliza’s eyes. Goran cowered in his usual spot at the baileen’s dorsal fin, but at least his head perked up with some curiosity. “All things considered, we are well enough.”
Cole held onto the image of Lileth a bit longer before responding. “Can you direct the baileen to come pick us up? We could all go to Oberon’s Temple together.”
“I’m afraid not,” she said, chords of bitterness humming in the link. “After the beast abandoned the two of you it made for open water, and has been unresponsive ever since. We’ve had to resort to some unconventional applications of Wisdom to sustain ourselves.”
Cole shrank back from the link, turning to R
oth. “They’re all stuck on the baileen and it won’t listen to them.
“Hmm,” Roth grumbled. “It makes sense. The baileen Fear the Three more than anyone else. Tell Eliza to stop her coddling and put the promise of death in its heart. The baileen is not some tender sproutling. It needs good, honest threats. It won’t respect the careful pampering that she’s likely been giving it. Tell her now.” He jabbed his chin at Cole.
Cole waded back into the link, relaying Roth’s words. For a moment there was silence, but then he felt a sudden, dropping lurch and crippling terror, not from his link with Eliza, but from Goran.
Cole rubbed his face, glad to be on solid ground. He looked back up at Roth: “It worked. The baileen’s listening now. Where do you want them to meet us?”
“It’s got to be Morthain. I don’t know rightly where we are, but I can get us there. It’ll be about a day for us on foot.” Roth looked up at the fading stars, mumbling something under his breath.
“Did you get that?” Cole asked. He attempted to feed Roth’s words directly through the link.
“Yes. I don’t know where the town is myself, but the baileen might. I will let you know if we need further guidance. Will you keep the link open? I don’t want to lose you again,” Eliza trilled as desperation leaked through.
“Of course. I’ll try my best. Take care of Goran for me.” Cole backed away from the link, keeping it within reach. He knew why she wanted the link open. She needed it for the same reason he needed it. They helped each other share the burden of their grief. Even now Joshy called to him.
“I’ll see to Lileth for you too,” she added, her smirk palpable.
Ignoring the comment, Cole returned to Roth with flushed cheeks. “They’re headed for Morthain now.”
Chapter 2
Judgment
Cole’s munisica tore through rocks and roots as he chased after Roth. The Rage fueled his strides, sustaining him for hours on end. He was disappointed, though not surprised when the shroud didn’t quite cover his whole body. His hair remained its usual unkempt mess while only parts of his arms and legs donned the ebony armor. He was certainly faster and stronger than he’d ever been, though every time he caught up to Roth, his Master would shoot off out of sight around some fern or distant hill. It was difficult to gauge how fast he was running, but Cole thought he might be approaching highway speeds. He laughed to himself, imagining Roth outstripping super cars in a drag race. He wished he could summon the Rage he’d wielded back in Costas. Then Roth would be the one trying to keep up with him. Cole fantasized for a moment, then discounted the idea, remembering how he had almost killed his friends.
Cole slowed his pace. Roth cantered to a stop at the base of a ridge, his clawed hand raised in a halting gesture. Stowing his own munisica, Cole took a moment to relax his Rage and catch his breath.
“There are people on the other side of this hill,” Roth said, his voice calm and quiet.
“How can you tell?” Cole asked, massaging a cramp in his side.
Roth squinted, changing the angle of his head. “I can hear them.”
Cole held his breath for as long as he could, but the only thing he could hear was the thumping of his heart and the chatter of rodents in the canopy above him. Arching his neck, Cole watched a squadron of squirrels chase each other over the weeping leaves of the towering vines. An imminent sunrise teased through the cracks in the leafy canopy, signaling the end of the house of Allias. Cole jumped, feeling something caress his bare foot. Looking down, he saw a faint orb the size of his fist. It flickered between lavender and soot black.
“Roth look! A soul fly!” Cole gasped, reaching down to caress the creature. The soul fly recoiled, sending shards of panic up Cole’s arm. It was scared.
“Be silent,” Roth hissed. “Follow me as quietly as you can.” Without another word Roth crawled up the hill on all four munisica, his mountainous frame making no louder sound than a falling leaf.
Cole stumbled after him, snapping twigs and slipping his bare feet over wet rocks. Roth looked back, clearly annoyed. Cole mouthed his apology, but Roth’s eyes flashed emerald with a quick blast of Wisdom. Wincing, Cole expected a kick to the head. Instead he felt an odd fuzzy sensation in his hands and feet, as if they were buried in cotton. Without waiting, Roth continued up the hill. Cole followed. To his pleasant surprise he found that his hands and feet could make no noise whatsoever, not even when he popped a few dried seeds or scraped his foot over loose bark.
As they neared the crest of the hill other soul flies popped over, rolling and darting towards them like a startled herd. There were dozens of them, all the same shade of blue veined with black. The pain and terror were palpable. Cole looked back and watched them bounce down the hill as if chased by Decreath himself.
Cole joined Roth at the top of the hill, following his gaze down towards a small cluster of four houses. The structures seemed too tall and too crooked to stand, as though held together by magic. Judging by the moss that ran up their walls, and the verdant overgrowth that crowded the yards, the structures had been abandoned for quite some time. Roth nudged Cole with his boulder of an elbow, pointing with his chin towards a stone well behind one of the dilapidated houses. Beside the well were two Aenerian women dashing throughout the yard. At first glance they appeared to be chasing each other in a game. After a few seconds their reckless, desperate movements hinted at something more significant.
Cole dared not speak, instead waiting for Roth’s sandpaper whisper to break the silence. “What do you think those two women are doing down there?”
Cole leaned close. “I can’t tell. Can’t hear them from here. Can you hear anything?”
“Of course I can, idiot,” Roth snapped. “I can hear their heartbeats from here. You are a warrior of The Sill. Inspect the situation.”
“Yes, Master Roth,” Cole replied mechanically, realizing that he was now in one of Roth’s lessons.
He knew what to do. He slowed his breath and heartbeat, which were both still racing from his contact with the panicked soul fly. In the quiet of his thoughts he found the Wisdom waiting patiently for him. With his fingertips glowing a dim sage, Cole brought them to his ears, then to his eyes. The magic tickled his eardrums and pulled at the lenses in his orbs, adjusting them perfectly. The faint sounds of the surrounding forest rose to a raucous chorus. Cole could hear beetles taking flight and water dripping onto what had to be a mushroom. He opened his eyes, blinking and disoriented. He could only focus on things at great distances, though the images were crystal clear. He turned his frozen eagle’s gaze towards the two women. One had black frizzled hair like a charred shrub, and chased the soul fly in zigzagging circles. The other only helped half-heartedly, complaining all the while. Though Wisdom bombarded his ears with a cacophony of sounds, Cole could make out their words as though they stood right next to him.
“What have you discovered?” Roth’s whisper was so loud he might as well have been screaming in Cole’s ear.
Cole jumped, dropping the magic. He rubbed his ears, working his jaw as he blinked his eyes back into focus. “They’ve captured a soul fly. I don’t know what they’re going to do with it but it doesn’t sound good. It’s so weird. I think… it sounds like…” his voice trailed off, unsure how to put words to it.
“Speak your mind, Cole. What are they going to do with that soul fly?” Roth anchored his eyes into Cole’s.
“It…it sounds like they’re going to rape it.” Cole shuddered. Even in the Aenerian language the word had a sickening shame to it. “But how can they? It’s not like it has a body. How can they…how can they violate it like that?”
“Tell me how Storn met his end,” Roth ordered.
The corners of Cole’s lips curled in disgust as he recalled the memory. “Kreed had the Corpulants subdue him with their flies. They had some kind of venom or something. Then while he was all drugged up Kreed hurt him. He hurt him really bad. Storn screamed and kicked as hard as he could, but between the venom and
Kreed’s magic it was too much and he…” Cole paused for a moment, swallowing back the lump in his throat. “It looked like Kreed took Storn’s soul right out of his face. He took it when Storn was in the height of all his pain and Fear. Then Kreed ate it. I could feel it happening, like it was happening to me too. He violated Storn’s soul.” Cole finished, hoping that it would be the last time he would have to tell that story.
Roth’s eye twitched, but otherwise he didn’t show any reaction. “I thought as much. No one deserves an end like that, Storn least of all. If you found yourself in a similar situation but with the power to stop it, would you?”
“Of course I would,” Cole hissed. “It’s the worst thing I’ve ever seen. If I could I would rip Kreed’s heart out before he ever had the chance.”
“Well then, Warrior of The Sill, I have a task for you.” Roth inclined his head: “The two Aenerians down behind that house are about to do something very similar to that soul fly. You find yourself with the power to stop it. Go stop it.”
Cole’s heart dropped down into his stomach. How exactly was he supposed to stop it? What was he supposed to do, run up to the women and try to kill them? All his feeble attempts at magic and failures in his lessons came rushing to the fore of his mind. There was no way he was ready for this.
Saving The Dark Side Book 2: The Harbingers Page 2