Endric squeezed his eyes shut, thinking back to those last days that he’d had with Andril. His brother had been frustrated with him, and whatever soft spot he might have once had was long gone by the time that he departed, heading south to confront the Deshmahne—and die.
The smile on Urik’s face faded. “I’m… I’m sorry about Andril. I never wanted him to die.”
“What did you expect to happen?”
“I thought…” Urik looked down at his hands, holding a stick of jerky. He shrugged. “I thought that if nothing else, Andril would see the threat of the Deshmahne. He would convince your father when no one else had been able to do so. I had not expected the Deshmahne to have come in such numbers as they did.”
Endric didn’t like talking about this, and didn’t like talking about what had happened to his brother, or losing his brother. Those thoughts were still raw and the memories still too painful, even though his brother had now been gone for nearly two years. That was time Endric hadn’t had his brother’s guidance and hadn’t had his brother’s buffer between himself and their father.
Maybe Urik hadn’t intended for Andril to die. The anger Endric felt at Urik was justified, but perhaps unnecessary. Urik couldn’t change anything now, and Endric might dishonor his brother’s memory by holding onto rage that Andril would not have wanted of him.
“You miscalculated with my father,” Endric said. “Dendril can’t be prodded into action.” Urik arched a brow and Endric grunted. “He can’t usually be prodded into action. I think he was willing to face you on the battlefield because he thought it would end whatever violence that you had brought. I doubt he expected you to pose any real threat to him.”
Urik grunted. “Thanks.”
Endric snorted. “It’s not arrogance when he’s been the best swordsman in the world for as long as he had been.” Endric said nothing of Brohmin, not needing for Urik to know of how skilled the Hunter was with the sword. He didn’t know what to make of him anyway. How would he explain the level of skill that Brohmin possessed?
“Perhaps not. Yet, were it not for you and what you can do with teralin, things might be quite a bit different.”
Endric stared at the crackling fire. His father likely had the same ability, which made Endric wonder why he hadn’t been the one to change the polarity of the sword Urik used. It seemed unlikely for Endric to be the only one of his family to have such an ability, especially as they had a shared connection to the Antrilii.
“You needed to be stopped. Had you taken command of the Denraen, using your connection to the negatively charged teralin, you would’ve forced the Denraen into war.”
“I still think that the Denraen need to confront the Deshmahne.” Urik took a bite and chewed slowly. When he finished, he let out a long breath. “It’s not even about my selfish desires anymore. Once, I claimed that. Perhaps I still do. I lose track of things these days,” Urik said. He attempted a smile. “My desire for vengeance and the need to destroy the Deshmahne aren’t incompatible. They can coexist, much as the Magi and the Denraen coexist.”
It was an odd comparison, but perhaps apt. The Magi valued peace, while the Denraen were soldiers, trained in fighting and in war.
“I don’t disagree the Deshmahne will need to be stopped,” Endric said.
“If they do nothing more than maintain their position in the south, the Denraen will not act.”
“Why would the Denraen need to act?”
Could he actually be arguing on behalf of the Denraen to leave the Deshmahne alone? There had been a time when Endric wanted nothing more than to destroy them and get his revenge. And perhaps he still did. Perhaps that still motivated him, but now he was aware of it. He hated that he was driven by such desires for vengeance, and for revenge. There had to be another way—a better way.
“You never saw what I did. Be thankful that you didn’t. There is a darkness within them.”
“Much like the darkness that consumed you when you held onto the teralin.”
Urik’s eyes narrowed. As they did, shadows danced within them and left Endric with the same question that he often confronted when he watched Urik. It was these quiet moments when he wondered whether Urik had been freed of the influence of the negatively charged teralin. It was times like these when he could no longer tell. Supposedly he had been treated, and it had been done by Tresten himself, which would make it seem as if he should be free of it. Especially as they traveled together. If anyone would be able to recognize the ongoing influence of teralin, wouldn’t it be Tresten?
But if something was happening to the Mage, if his mind were slipping, maybe he wouldn’t recognize it.
“It is much the same. The intent… The intent was different.”
Urik fell into silence and Endric let it grow between them. He wouldn’t argue with Urik on this. There was no point.
As they sat there, they heard a howl in the night.
Endric sat up. The sound was distinct and clearly one of the merahl.
Urik seemed not to have heard.
When it came again, this time closer, Endric got to his feet.
“I didn’t think you are in the mood to spar,” Urik said.
Endric shook his head. “Not spar. This is something else.”
The sound came again, much closer this time. As he listened, there were multiple voices to the merahl, enough that he recognized that they called to each other, an entire pack of merahl.
And they were coming toward the camp.
29
Endric peered into the darkness, looking for movement. Where they had camped was near a line of trees and he saw nothing through their thick, round leaves. There was no sound in the night other than that of the waves crashing along the shore and that of his own breathing, a sound that had quickened since he’d heard the merahl’s howl. Those cries continued, picking up intensity and focus.
With each howl, Endric’s heart hammered. If there were this many, he would be forced to do something other than incapacitate.
Endric didn’t care for the idea of harming the merahl. If they were somehow tainted, there had to be a way to save them.
But was there? Was it only his connection to the Antrilii that made him feel that way, or was it the right thing to do, regardless? Would attempting to save the merahl sacrifice something else?
He needed help.
Endric looked back. Urik still sat by the fire, but his posture was rigid. He tipped his head, listening, as if only now hearing the cries from the merahl. Was there something about them that masked their presence from others without the Antrilii connection? Endric had never asked that question before, but considering how only those with Antrilii bloodlines—and perhaps the Magi—had an ability to see the groeliin, maybe the merahl were included in that as well.
“Tresten?” he called into the night
Urik appeared next to him, standing at Endric’s shoulder and following the direction of his gaze. “What is it?”
“Do you hear it?”
“I hear the sound of wolves braying, but nothing more than that.”
Endric frowned. “Those aren’t wolves.”
“What are they?”
Tresten appeared out of the darkness before Endric had a chance to answer. “It is time for us to depart,” Tresten said.
“Depart? We just camped for the night,” Urik said.
Tresten held tightly to his staff and tapped it on the ground. Endric noted that he seemed to do it each time there came a call from the merahl. There was a rhythm to it that he hadn’t noticed before, but Tresten must have. “We have only just camped, but that doesn’t change the fact that we must get moving. Things are escalating now and it is time for us to prepare for what is to come.”
“What’s escalating?” Endric asked.
Tresten breathed out. “The ending.” He moved past and grabbed the reins of his horse, climbing into the saddle.
They had been walking over the last few days, and it surprised Endric that Tresten woul
d choose to mount now, especially in the darkness, when the horse could easily catch a hoof and become lame. The path they’d been traveling was not the easiest. There was some underbrush, and the weeds and grasses that grew near the rocky ledge overlooking the ocean were thick here. Many had brambles that caught on their boots and pants and that buried in the horses’ hair. They brushed them each night, removing as much of the brambles as they could, but it seemed cruel to send them through the darkness, riding at night when even the horses’ footing would not be that steady.
Tresten glanced back. “Now is not the time to question my sanity, Endric.”
Endric shook his head. Had Tresten known what he was thinking? Had he recognized the fact that Endric struggled with following him, and the way that he had continued to stare out into the darkness? He must have.
Urik obeyed more quickly than Endric did and climbed onto his saddle and started off after Tresten. Endric hastily put out the fire, quenching the flames, and when he was finished, he looked up to see that both Urik and Tresten had disappeared into the darkness.
He had started toward his horse when a flash of fur caught his attention.
Endric dropped.
The movement might have saved his life.
A dark-furred merahl leaped over him and went tumbling at Endric’s sudden disappearance.
Endric jumped to his feet, reaching for his sword, and noted that another merahl waited near the tree line.
Two of them.
Could he handle two merahl again?
How many more would be coming? From the sound of them, from the steady howls that he heard in the night, there were more than only two of the creatures, but would they be after Tresten?
With any other animal, Endric wouldn’t attribute such intelligence, but the merahl were different. They studied him, almost knowingly. They would be able to work together, and he suspected they had some way of speaking to each other, whether it came from their howls or from some other way that he did not fully understand.
If that were the case, it was entirely possible the merahl intended to split them up. It would make them easier to take down one at a time, especially if they separated him from the much more powerful Mage.
With his sword unsheathed, he prepared to attack.
He didn’t like the idea of harming the merahl. And the thought of killing one of the creatures bothered him in ways that he couldn’t fully explain.
Somehow, he would have to find a way to stop them.
Unless there were more than two.
Endric placed his back to the ocean, using the ridge overlooking the sea as a line of protection. He could use it as a barrier and make it so that he only had to fend them off from a single direction. They could still outnumber him, but using the ridge, he could prevent them from overpowering him.
Surveying the trees, he noted there were only the two merahl.
Two might still be too many.
They stalked toward him, moving in unison. As they did, one of them snapped at his sword. Endric darted back. When he did, the other merahl snapped, forcing him to take a step away, toward the rocks.
They were smart. If he continued to back up, he would throw himself into the ocean. He would not have any way of surviving a fall like that, especially considering how sharp the rock edges were down below. He had spent enough time staring at them, trying to understand what it was that Tresten saw, that he realized he wouldn’t have any chance of survival if it came to that.
He would have to stand his ground.
Facing the merahl working together would be more difficult than facing two the night before. If these were the same two, they would have learned—and they would have likely strategized a way to defeat him.
Somehow, it would have to come down to him using his sword and whatever influence the teralin had on them.
One of the merahl lunged, and this time Endric didn’t turn away.
Instead, he darted forward, bringing the hilt of his sword down on top of the merahl’s head.
The huge cat cried out, snarling at him and snapping at his hand, but Endric withdrew, spinning and kicking out with his foot, catching the other merahl in the side and sending him spinning.
He breathed heavily. The night was cool and the spray coming off the ocean dampened his skin, but sweat still streamed down his brow.
Where was Tresten?
He needed the Mage to realize that he hadn’t joined them and to return. Endric suspected Tresten had some way of slowing the merahl, though what?
Both of the large cats stalked him, circling around.
They had the advantage. They could wait, and all they needed was for him to make a single mistake. When he did, one—or both—could lunge in and tear him apart. He’d seen what they did to groeliin and knew he would pose no more of a threat. All he had was his sword keeping him alive. They respected the sharpness of the blade.
One of them darted forward.
Endric dropped, bringing his fist up, and punched.
A jaw grabbed his ankle. He was thrown, sent flying toward the campsite. When he landed, his breath was kicked out of him and he gasped for air. He kept a grip on his sword, fearing releasing it, fearing what might happen if he were to lose that connection. He needed the sword more than anything else.
Endric got to his feet, shaking. The leg the merahl had grabbed throbbed, but thankfully did not appear to be broken. He could bear weight on it and doubted he would have managed if it were significantly injured.
“You don’t want to do this,” he said to the merahl. “I have worked with the Antrilii. I have hunted groeliin.”
One of the merahl howled. The sound was piercing and the hairs on the back of Endric’s neck stood on end. It was a pained sound, one that he could not ignore.
The other merahl raced toward him, snapping at his sword.
Endric twisted the blade, keeping it from the merahl’s biting jaw, and brought his fist around, hoping to catch the merahl on the snout.
He missed.
The creature barreled into him and knocked him down.
His sword was caught off to his side, and one of the merahl’s massive paws forced his arm down, trapping it beneath him.
Endric brought his foot up, kicking at the merahl, and managed to catch his back leg. The merahl buckled and Endric shoved him off. The creature was heavy, and he grunted as he moved him.
It was enough to get his arm free and Endric brought his sword around, placing it between himself and the merahl.
Where was the other creature?
Endric had lost track of the fight. The moment the merahl had clamped onto his leg, all thought had gone. Any planning and calculated movement that he might otherwise have had disappeared. He was too far away from the ledge, so that provided him no advantage. They could circle him now.
Could he reach the trees?
If he could, he could climb them, but he didn’t have any faith the merahl couldn’t climb after him. He’d seen how they scaled steep rock walls in the northern mountains as they faced groeliin, so what would a simple tree be to them? Likely they would be able to climb that just as easily.
He would have to fight, and he would have to stop them. Somehow.
One of the merahl reached him. Blood stained its jaw. Endric fell as much as he moved to the side. As he did, he reached toward the merahl, grabbing around the creature’s neck.
The merahl thrashed, trying to free him, but Endric wouldn’t let go. At least this way, the other merahl couldn’t reach him and couldn’t attack with the same ferocity.
One hand still gripped his sword. Endric feared letting it go, feared what might happen if he did, but he couldn’t cling to the merahl’s back with only one arm.
He let go of the sword.
He gripped the merahl’s fur, hanging on as the creature tried to throw him free. Each jump nearly tossed him off its back, but Endric gripped tightly, knowing his life depended on it.
Where was the other one?
I
t was possible they still could work together and that the other merahl could grab him and try to tear him free, but he hoped that by holding on to the first merahl, he would be able to stay safe. At least for now.
Eventually, he would have to let go. Eventually his grip would give out and he would fall. When it did, he would be in danger once more.
Could he choke the merahl out?
He squeezed around the creature’s neck, careful not to completely crush its windpipe. He didn’t want to kill the merahl, though the longer this went on, the more that might be necessary. He hoped it was not.
The merahl wheezed and the thrashing began to intensify.
Endric clung tightly.
The thrashing slowed and finally stopped. The merahl fell to the ground.
Endric held on another moment before finally releasing his grip. He sat up and saw a flash of eyes.
He dropped.
The other merahl jumped and started to sail over him. Endric reached, grabbing a handhold of fur, squeezing tightly. He managed to hold on to enough that he could shift his hands around, getting a better grip.
He was beneath the merahl, and it snapped at him. He kept his head down, preventing it from getting any vital organs. Endric wrapped his arms around the merahl’s neck, squeezing as he had to the other one. The creature wheezed quickly so Endric squeezed more tightly, fear forcing him to abandon any thought of not harming the creature.
One of the merahl’s claws raked at him and he screamed, but he hung on.
The merahl dropped to the ground, trying to roll. If it succeeded, Endric might be thrown free, but he held tightly, not letting the creature toss him off.
The wheezing continued and then stopped.
Endric squeezed again, holding until movement ceased.
The merahl didn’t move.
Endric let go, looking over at the other. He lay near the ledge, overlooking the sea. Had they rolled any farther, he would have been thrown into the water, down onto the rocks.
That would’ve been the merahl’s intent. It was willing to sacrifice itself to kill Endric.
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