Into Storm

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Into Storm Page 10

by Jason Hamilton


  They had thought most of their flock killed by demons. Perhaps this one had gotten lost and managed to avoid the massacre all together.

  ‘Lost.’ Was that what the troll had meant when he spelled out the word? Had he just wanted to show her the lost sheep so she could help? If that were the case it had been right to send someone else. The huge monstrosity would have frightened the poor sheep to death.

  “Hey there,” Jak said, letting the animal hear the sound of her voice. If it was one of her father’s sheep, it might recognize her.

  Sure enough, the animal stopped running away from her the moment she said something. She whistled softly as she took a step closer, and then another step. It scampered away a bit, clearly not used to having a human around again. After some time spent chasing it, she finally managed to wrap her arms around the incredibly thick woolen coat. “There, I’ve got you.”

  She led the sheep back towards her old home. Hopefully the shears were still untouched. They should be, assuming no one had looted the place. And who would steal sheep shears anyway?

  In the distance she spotted the troll. He was watching them but remained rooted to the spot where she had left him. The sheep managed to get a look at the thing through the wool closing in on its eyes. Even from this distance, Jak had to coax the little thing to follow and not run away from the troll.

  She could understand the sheep’s hesitation. Her recent interactions with the troll had not made her forget that people had died at the hands of this new Fae. They were not to be taken lightly. She just wished she knew why it had brought her to find this sheep. Did it care for the thing somehow, or did it have other motives? Perhaps he just wanted a meal. Jak shoved that thought aside. That was not productive thinking at all.

  She entered the barn with the sheep trailing behind her, growing much more confident now that they were out of range of the troll, and it was getting used to Jak’s presence. He was getting excited. Perhaps he knew that he was about to lose his burdensome woolen coat.

  A wave of nostalgia blanketed Jak as she stared at the tools lining the barn walls. Not long ago this had been her life, the only life she ever knew. It felt good falling into familiar steps as she found a pair of shears in the back. They were a bit rusty, but they would work. She set to work shearing the sheep of its cumbersome outer layer.

  The sheep resisted, as they usually did, and Jak had to hold it down while she worked. The rhythmic, metalic sound of the shears sliding together brought her back to those old times. This was soothing. She needed this.

  Once the work was done, she let the sheep go, and it bounded around the barn letting out excited bleats now that it was free of its burden.

  “That’s right,” she said. “I’ll bet that feels so much better. You’re safe now, little one. I’ll make sure you can come back with me. And I won’t let anyone eat you, I promise.”

  The rumble of troll footsteps sounded from outside. The sheep bleated and began running around wildly, though it had nowhere to go.

  “I’ll take care of that, don’t worry,” she said.

  Keeping the sheep confined in the barn, she exited and went out to meet the approaching troll. It stood next to her house, its head rising above the rafters and regarding her with those eyes like lightning.

  “Thank you for bringing me the sheep. Is that what you meant by the word ‘lost’?”

  It hesitated, nodded, but then shook its head after that.

  “Yes and no?” Boy this thing was tricky to figure out.

  It pointed at itself, then pointed at her. Lastly it pointed at the barn, presumably at the sheep.

  “Are you saying that we’re all lost?”

  A sharp incline of its head confirmed she had finally figured it out. But what did that mean? She wasn’t lost, not like the sheep anyway.

  The troll raised a hand to point at the barn, then used its other hand to point at the mountains, towards where Jak had found the sheep. Then, curiously, it pointed at Jak with one hand, and pointed at its chest with the other, where the heart should be. Finally, it used both hands to gesture at itself, then pointed specifically at its head.

  Hang on, he was beginning to make some sense here. “I think I might understand what you’re trying to say. You’re saying the sheep was lost out there, and that I’m lost…” she trailed off.

  It pointed at its chest again.

  “I'm lost in the heart?” she guessed.

  A sharp jab of the head. Yes, that’s what he meant.

  “And you’re lost in the head?” she said, remembering his last motion.

  Once again, it nodded. Now it was starting to make sense. Being lost in the head might have something to do with its seeming inability to speak or communicate effectively. Perhaps whoever had turned into this troll was still in there somehow, but without the same mental faculties as before.

  But then what did it mean that she was lost in the heart? Could the thing possibly know what she had been going through emotionally to come back to her old town? Had it seen the tears she had shead over her father’s grave?

  “I...I think you may be right about me,” she whispered, almost to herself, though loud enough for the giant Fae to hear. “And I want to help you how I can. I know adjusting to that new body must be frustrating for you.”

  The thing pointed at her with one arm, and at the barn with the other, then moved that arm to point at himself.

  “Yes, I’d like to help you like I helped the sheep. I just don’t know how.” Her eyes grew slack and she stared off into the distance. “There’s still a lot that I don’t know.”

  And that much was true. She may have found a Pillar of Eternity, she may have escaped from one of the most powerful villains alive, she may have killed countless demons, she may even be this prophesied Oren. But she still couldn’t perform a stable Telekinesis brand, she didn’t have everyone’s trust, she still made tactical mistakes, and she even questioned the path ahead of her. Could she overthrow the queen and create a better society for the Fae and everyone to live in? Or would she simply replace one tyrant with another?

  He fears you, the words came unbidden to her mind. Her father’s words, some of the last that he had ever said to her. She now knew the person he had been talking about was Cain, whom she had only just managed to escape in Mt. Harafast. How could someone with that much power fear her?

  What would her father think of everything that had happened?

  “Wait here,” she said to the troll. “I’ll be back soon.”

  14

  The troll did nothing to object, and she rounded the house until she was at the main entrance. The door was still on its hinges, though it had blown open, and there was a hole in the roof. As she entered the door, she was surprised to see how much was still there as she had left it.

  That had been one fateful morning when they’d first left. Jak shivered as she remembered that helpless feeling when a dark force woke her. That had been Cain, though she hadn’t known it at the time. Had her father known? He had certainly seemed worried that morning, though Jak had thought it was just because of the massacred sheep. Had it been something more?

  They left in a hurry that morning, and most of their possessions remained behind. Much of it was still here. Not even looters had come through here, though there were precious few items of value in their house. Her father had brought his old Watcher spear with him, which was the only real thing of value they had possessed.

  Jak wandered into her old room, scaring a poor family of mice who had taken shelter under her bed. Jak gazed at the familiar space. Odd that she should feel almost nothing at seeing her old room again. Had she really moved on that completely that this place held nothing for her?

  She stepped across the hall into what had been her father’s room. The roof was still intact on this side of the house, and while a thick layer of dust coated the room, all else was as they left it.

  She ran a hand over her father’s bed post, and sat down on the thin mattress. The room wa
s musty, but there was something familiar here as well, something she hadn’t even felt in her own room. Was it the smell?

  Yes, that had something to do with it. Even after all this time, under the dust and mildew she could faintly make out an earthy aroma. Jak hadn’t even thought about it before, but it was the smell of home.

  Like before at her father’s grave, tears began to well in her eyes. But this time it wasn’t because she missed her father, or the fact that she had failed him. It was the fact that part of him still existed. He was still here, in this place.

  And he was still with her.

  She could almost hear him speaking to her, telling her that he did not blame her for his death.

  “But if the person I am now had been there, you wouldn’t have died,” she said to the empty air. She didn’t wipe away her tears.

  If I had not died, you would not be the person you are now. The thought came unbidden to Jak’s mind. It sank deep into her heart, and lodged itself there. She rose to her feet in an instant, kicking up the dust that had settled.

  But of course, no one had said anything. Yet those were words he would have spoken, without a doubt.

  But if her father had not died, things would have been better, right? She would have gone on to Skyecliff with her father, stayed to learn at the college, and likely risen to the highest academic honors. She could just imagine her father’s face at the presentation of her letter of graduation, or entering official service as a Gifter. She wouldn’t have offended the queen, wouldn’t be in the predicament she was in now, wouldn’t have been betrayed by her friends.

  Wouldn’t have found the Fae.

  Wouldn’t have discovered her ability to give multiple brands.

  Wouldn’t have saved countless soldiers and civilians from the jaws of a demon.

  If she hadn’t been thrust on that journey with the death of her father, none of this would have happened. Like it or not, she was a changed woman because of that crucial moment. That voice, whether it was in her head or came from somewhere beyond, was right.

  The tears stopped flowing.

  “I am sorry—” she said out loud. “—that we could not have spent more time together. But I do not regret the experiences I’ve had since.”

  A soft breeze from the next room enveloped her, as though wrapping her in an assuring hug.

  This was her calling. It was her responsibility to help the Fae, and all those who suffered under the oppression of Queen Telma or Cain. That was a responsibility she had to accept, even if it meant making the hard choices. In that moment she knew that her father would support her if he was still alive.

  Perhaps somewhere, he was smiling on her.

  An enormous weight seemed to rise from her shoulders. Suddenly the room grew brighter, the setting sun beaming through the windows and damaged roof, bathing her old home in a golden glow.

  It was time to leave these old memories behind. Time to make new ones.

  Turning on her heel, she walked outside. The troll had not moved from where he stood before she went in. He stared at her without making a sound.

  “You were right,” she said, coming close to where he stood. “I was lost in my heart. But perhaps not anymore.”

  Something bright seemed to flash in the beast’s eyes. Was he smiling? It didn’t look like his maw of a mouth had the muscles for it.

  “I just need to confirm one thing,” she said, stooping to pick up a pebble at her feet. The troll tilted its head at her.

  “Gabriel said I had a block holding me back from performing a Telekinesis brand,” she said, not talking to anyone in particular. “The brand of my father.”

  Her Gifter brand flashed to life, and the troll took a step backward at the suddenness of it. Black lines crisscrossed along the surface of the pebble, forming the bird-like shape of a Telekinesis brand.

  When the light from her Gifter brand faded, she held the pebble in front of her. If she had messed up the branding, it would typically float aimlessly in the air. It did not do so. There was no other confirmation that it had worked, but no reaction was exactly what she wanted.

  The pebble was nothing but confirmation of what she now understood deep in her soul. She had always had the brand inside of her, but she’d kept it hidden.

  No longer.

  For the second time, her Gifter brand shone with an inner light. Gently, she rested the tip of that hand on her forehead, and closed her eyes.

  A light pain marked the spot where the lines were forming, etching themselves into the flesh of her forehead. As it formed, she felt the memory of her father become a permanent part of herself. It had been there all along.

  The act complete, she let her hand drop. All was calm, and she knew that she had done it. A perfect Telekinesis brand lay prominent on her forehead, the memory of the man she had lost, of the man who had given his life for her, an act that had allowed her to save countless others. A hero.

  The troll continued to stare at her curiously. She met its eyes. “Come with me,” she said. “I can ensure they don’t hurt you. You can prove that your people are not dangerous.”

  The light of its eyes narrowed. Was it considering her offer or just trying to decipher her intentions?

  Finally, it shook its head. He raised an arm and pointed at the mountains. “LAAAAAHST.” it bellowed at her. It was the first time he’d said anything resembling a word.

  Jak smiled. “I understand,” she said. “You need to find the others like you. The ones that are lost.”

  It nodded, its eyes drooping in something akin to sadness.

  “Do you still feel lost.”

  It hesitated a moment before shaking its head.

  “Me neither,” Jak said, and lifted a hand to gently place it on the creature’s arm. It stared at the hand, as though trying to comprehend the significance of what she was doing. Then its eyes met hers once more before it turned and launched itself at the mountains, causing the entire earth to quake around it.

  Jak let out a deep breath. Well, she had work to do.

  Remembering the lost sheep, she returned to the barn. “Come now, we need to find a safe place for you too.” She opened the pen to guide the frightened animal home.

  Half way back to the river she heard the sound of hooves in the grass, and looked up to see Seph on horseback.

  “Seph?” she asked as he drew closer.

  “I’m glad I found you,” he said, pulling the horse to a halt. His eyes drifted to the mark on her forehead and a smile split his face. “I take it your little excursion was a productive one?”

  “You might say that,” said Jak, returning his smile. When was the last time she had smiled like that? Something truly had been lifted from her.

  He swung himself off the horse, gracefully. Jak pursed her lips in a half-smile as she watched him do so. If it weren’t for the odd situation they were in, she would have considered deepening their relationship. Perhaps nothing serious, but just becoming better friends or something. But with the queen at their doorstep, and these new Fae, she really didn’t have time to think about all that. Still, she really did love the feeling of his arms around her. She was about to move forward for a hug when she caught a glimpse of his face. “What’s wrong?” she asked as his smile gave way to a creased forehead.

  “There are demons approaching from the east. A lot of them. I was sent to bring you back.”

  The news stilled her heart. So, Cain was finally making his move. She squared her shoulders. Perhaps now they would see more of the demon king. Well, nothing to do but to meet him head on. All thoughts of her relationship with Seph faded, for now, as they both rode the horse back to camp, a frightened sheep in tow behind them.

  15

  “They’re staying put for now.” Skellig was pacing back and forth in the council clearing. “It’s reminding me a little too much of Foothold, only this time we don’t have the protection of a fortress.” She stopped pacing and ran her hands through her short, blonde hair.

  “
We knew that Cain would attack eventually,” said Jak smoothly. She glanced at everyone else present. Her mother, Seph, Gabriel, Amelia, Yewin, Girwirt, and Noralim. How had she not put any thought into how amazing it was that they were all working together like this?

  “That doesn’t change the fact that we are now outnumbered. By hundreds to one. That is not a number we can compete against,” Skellig barked. “We have to retreat into the mountain.”

  “Is the queen still making her retreat?” Jak asked.

  Skellig shook her head. “Turns out that was just a ruse. They retreated as far back as the main road and met up with some reinforcements from Tradehall. They’re keeping their distance for now, probably hoping that we and the demons wipe each other out.”

  “Before they step in to clean up the mess,” said Gabriel, stroking his dark beard.

  “Exactly,” Skellig said, going back to pacing.

  “But if the demons attack us, that would go against her claim that the demons and Fae are the same thing, and working together.” Amelia said from her corner of the clearing.

  “Telma will find a way to spin it,” Seph folded his arms. “She always does. Anyway, right now she has the perfect evidence that we are working together.”

  Jak frowned. “How so?”

  “Well as long as that army doesn’t attack us, she’ll just assume that they’re here to reinforce us. She’ll consider it another aggressive act.” Seph laughed, though there was no humor in it. “I can hear her now, spreading the word that you are the mastermind behind the demons.”

  “But that argument would fall apart if they did attack us, right?” Karlona had her hands on her hips. “Or...what if we attacked them first?”

  “Unless they plan to lay down and die we would stand no chance against an army of that size,” said Skellig. “There has to be at least five thousand demons out there.”

  Jak’s knees weakened. “Five thousand?” She should have asked for that statistic up front.

  “Yes, and Queen Telma’s army is nearly as large. We’d have no chance against either, let alone both.”

 

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