Awakening Camelot: A Wizard's Quest (Awakening Camelot Duology Book 1)

by Dan Wingreen

  In the end such thoughts were the very opposite of productive, so he crumpled the note up into a ball and burned it to ash.

  "Um, Mr Alexander, sir?" Brent's voice came through the freshly cast intercom spell on the corner of his temporary desk.

  "What is it, Brent?"

  "The two officers you talked with? Um, they're wondering if they can leave yet. Should I tell them they can go, or do you need something else from them?"

  Noah was about to tell him to just dismiss them, but paused. True, the conversations he'd had with them weren't anything he hadn't expected. Francis Barnes and Regan Bryce were little more than thugs at their core. The kind of men who are overlooked and shuffled around when they got too brazen with their graft, because it was simpler than any of the alternatives, and no one really cared whether a few wizards were taken advantage of.

  Bryce was the fourth son of the Minister of Parliament for New York, and so it was natural that he would be sent into the police force. The MP position was generally inherited, although not always, and it only made sense not to have too many potential heirs sitting around in meaningless busywork jobs, bored and scheming. Noah had always thought that population restrictions should apply to government officials as well as the citizenry, but since somebody above him had decided otherwise there must have been a good reason they didn't.

  As for Barnes, his record was spotty to the point of nonexistence before he was picked up in an illegal brawling ring when he was fifteen. After he was sent to an orphanage for re-education, he showed an affinity for enforcing the law and it was pure happenstance the two rookies went through the academy together and became…not exactly friends from what Noah observed, more comfortable with each other than anything else. He got a sense they each knew exactly where they stood with the other, and that was an important thing in any group of people, whether it was two partners fresh out of training or an entire country.

  Still, Noah wondered at the intelligence of putting them together. For all their skill, their partnership seemed to mostly serve in exacerbating their worst traits. Arrogance and unnecessary cruelty being the easiest to identify. Barnes, at least, showed enough common sense to fear Noah, but Bryce was alarmingly overconfident in himself and his position in the world.

  They did seem to work well together though, with Barnes playing the heavy and Bryce the brains; and for all his lack of common sense, Bryce was smart, that much Noah was able to pick up on immediately. Not exactly useful for a hunt however…except Barnes showed a rare proficiency with fire magic, and Bryce didn't seem to be easily intimidated. Not to mention they were the only two men who had fought with the mysterious man in black up close and were still alive. They could have insight which might be useful in an encounter. Especially if the men he was hunting were going east, since there was only one way they could go, and what lived in that part of the country was best faced when not alone…

  Mind made up, he tapped the corner of the desk to activate the spell. There was a flash of blue processed magic indicating his voice was being projected to the answering spell on Brent’s desk. "They can go home for now, but I want them back here in an hour."

  "Yes, sir, I'll tell them."

  "Oh, and Brent?"

  "Yes, sir?"

  Noah brushed a tiny piece of ash off the edge of the desk. "Tell them to pack for a long trip."

  Chapter 3

  "Stop here," Eallair said.

  Aidan slowed the carriage as gently as he could, but the rocky sand under the tires still made too much noise for his liking, considering where they were. At least he didn't have to worry about his fragile tires anymore after seeing Eallair magically fix them with ease earlier.

  When Aidan had pulled himself together enough to push himself off Eallair's chest with a hopefully unnoticed flush, Eallair had repaired the tires and they'd continued their drive in near silence. It could have been uncomfortable, probably would have been any other time, but Aidan had gotten the distinct impression Eallair wasn't silently judging him or regretting dragging along the crybaby wizard who'd broken down in front of him twice in less than a day. It felt more like he was giving Aidan time to work through everything in his own head, without distracting him or offering potentially unwanted advice. The silence gave Aidan a lot of time to think. Not just about Dallin and Skyler, or the new, blazing anger that had taken up residence right next to the fiery wild magic in his heart, but about Eallair.

  About the way he'd held Aidan.

  It made him feel guilty all over again. His thoughts kept going back to Eallair’s steady arms and the comforting strength of his chest, when he should have been mourning the children he'd helped send to their deaths. He couldn't help it though. He'd liked being held. As stupid and probably undeserved as it was, it made him feel better. Protected.

  Heh. Shelter from the storm.

  Aidan had smiled at the thought, just for a second, but Eallair must have been looking at him at just the right time—or maybe he'd been staring at Aidan the whole time, though that might have been wishful thinking on his part—because Eallair said, "Nice to see the smile again. Thought it might have gone away for good this time." Aidan thought about making some kind of comment to that, but he couldn't think of anything to say. Eallair didn't seem to mind, though, and the silence returned until he told Aidan to get off a few exist before the Great Southern Highway and start heading northeast.

  There were only two ways to make the somewhat difficult journey from the West to the Midwest and vice versa. A collection of highways and roads that came together into one massive thirty lane monstrosity the north—the Great Northern Highway—and went through North Dakota, Montana, and Idaho, and a similar route that went through Arizona, New Mexico, and Texas called—in an impressive show of bureaucratic originality—the Great Southern Highway. There wasn't a single road leading out of any of the west coast states heading east that didn't connect to one of the Great Highways at some point. They were a safe way to travel that completely avoided the Canadian Territories, which were infested with wendigo and other deadly creatures, and the wild and untamed middle country and the people who lived there. They also had the unfortunate—for two "terrorists" on the run, anyway—side effect of being heavily patrolled by Highway police. If Aidan had thought about it before, he would have realized they couldn't have taken the Highway for too long without getting caught and probably figured out what that meant, but he didn't think about it. His mind was preoccupied with too many other things.

  Which was why he was completely unprepared when Eallair suddenly told him they had to drive through shaman territory.

  Aidan didn't know much about the shamans, just what everyone else knew, but it was enough to scare him. They were the only thing left of the indigenous people who lived in America before the first colonists from Britannia and, later on, Scandinavia came over to settle. It didn't take long for the fighting to start, and even though Aidan was starting to doubt the well-known, government supported story that basically boiled down to "they started it", no one could deny the fighting had been brutal on both sides. It was easily the most destructive magical war ever fought on the North American continent. Eventually, the shaman were defeated and ran away to the west, shattered and all but destroyed.

  Or at least that was the history taught in pre-magic school. Aidan didn't know if it was true or not, but it seemed like there had to be more to it if the government built two massive and heavily patrolled Highways to avoid going through the territory the shaman decided to re-settle in instead of wiping them out. All he knew for sure was, according to the stories he'd heard, no one had ever gone through shaman territory and survived.

  And that was exactly what Aidan and Eallair were trying to do.

  "What do we do now?" Aidan asked as he shut down the carriage. The sudden silence after almost eight hours of the constant thrumming of the magical engine was unnerving in the rapidly approaching darkness. There weren't any lights out in the Nevada desert. Just the stars and the moon
and, until he shut them off, the weak headlights on the front of Aidan's carriage. He wasn't used to the silence or the darkness. Even in the Wizards' Quarter where there was no nightlife to speak of, there was always the light from the power lines and voices drifting up from the streets below; and even if those fell silent he could always hear the sounds of distant carriages and birds. There were no animal sounds out in the desert. No voices. Nothing to show that anything lived out there.

  Except Eallair had assured him they were very close to a shaman village.

  "We introduce ourselves," Eallair said. It sounded simple, but then he flashed a grin and Aidan knew he wasn't going to like the second part. "And hope they don't kill us."

  Aidan shuddered. "Please tell me you've done this before."

  "Talked to shaman?" he asked. Aidan nodded. "Nope. Never needed to. I always just…slipped on past. I'd ditch the carriage and do that now, but—"

  "We're in a hurry, I know," Aidan said. He wondered briefly why he'd ever enjoyed "race against time" books. They certainly weren't much fun to live. "Just please tell me shamans are misunderstood and really aren't as bad as…" He trailed off as he saw Eallair's grim expression.

  "They're bad," he said. "Powerful, too. I've never actually met any, but I've seen what they leave behind when they're done with their killin’. There ain't much to misunderstand."

  Aidan most definitely did not want to ask what Eallair meant by "what they leave behind". Especially since, as Eallair explained it, the basic plan was to ask permission to cross their territory, and hope they held off on attacking them long enough to explain that they were fighting against the government. As plans went, it wasn't the best, and it had way too much implied "somehow" for Aidan's peace of mind, but it was really their only chance. Eallair had seen this village the last time he sneaked across the desert and it wasn't particularly big, but that had been over a year ago. There could be a lot more shaman there now and, even though Eallair had a whole day to recover and he borrowed some more of Aidan's magic, they might be more than even he could deal with.

  "Great," Aidan said. He took a deep breath then added with as much confidence as he could, "Let's get this over with then."

  Eallair reached out, then hesitated before placing his hand on Aidan's shoulder. "We'll be fine. Trust me."

  Aidan nodded. Even through two layers of sweater Eallair's hand felt warm. "Okay," he said.

  He wasn't sure if Eallair believed him, but he nodded back and, after another second, took his hand away. They both got out of the carriage—leaving Eallair's bag and the scroll case behind since they didn't want to be burdened with unnecessary weight if this turned into a fight—and started walking.

  Dusk turned to night very quickly as they walked, the lingering warmth of the day seemingly absorbed by the greedy sand. Aidan couldn’t believe how cold the desert got when the sun went down. He pulled his sweater jacket around him tightly as a sharp, quickly cooling breeze kicked up, blowing some sand into his face. Not for the first time, he wished the constant warmth in his chest would spread out to the rest of his body. His fingers especially.

  The temperature wasn't the only thing about the desert that surprised him. The sand was tightly packed and somewhat gravelly, not loose and smooth like the sand at the beach. Instead of being completely flat, the landscape dipped and rolled occasionally, and even the flat bits were broken up by lonely cacti and tufts of strange, long grass that seemed to grow out of the ground in intermittent clumps. He was glad for the hard, gravelly sand, at least. It made it much easier to walk on, and, hopefully, drive across.

  The only unexpected thing that really bothered him was the darkness. It wasn't like the dark in the city. Back home there were alleys and unlit streets, places where things or people could hide and Aidan knew to avoid. Out in the desert it was different. Everywhere was equally dark. There were no "dangerous" areas for his overactive imagination to populate with the things he was afraid of, no pockets of brightness to give himself the illusion of safety. The blackness surrounded him, reminding him of the worst of his nightmares. And then, when the sun fully set, the stars and moon came out and lit up the desert brighter than the power lines and streetlamps back home, and that was somehow worse. The dark was still there, but he could see into it. Nothing could hide. It was unnatural; things hid in the dark.

  So where did they go when the dark wasn't dark enough to hide in?

  Aidan shivered and moved a bit closer to Eallair.

  "I think I hate nature," he muttered.

  Eallair snorted in amusement, but otherwise stayed quiet.

  They'd been walking for about thirty minutes before they saw a flickering, orange glow in the distance. Eallair slowed them down and told Aidan to be as quiet as he could. Aidan almost snapped back he didn't need to be told that, but realized at the last second that would actually kind of disprove his point.

  They slowly made their way towards the light, Eallair stopping them every now and then for a few minutes, seemingly at random before continuing. Nothing happened. No one saw them and raised an alarm. No seething swarms of shamans rose up out of the ground to do horrible things to them. It made Aidan slightly nervous, even as he started to hope they might make it to what he assumed was the village.

  At least there, the things that wanted to kill him wouldn't have any reason to hide.

  It took almost another half an hour at the pace Eallair set to reach the village. Aidan had never seen anything like it. There weren't any buildings, not the kind he was used to anyway; instead there were dozens of strange cone-like huts that seemed to be made from some kind of thick material which looked like really odd, white paper. Most of them were the same size, about half again as tall as he was and wide enough to hold about three or four people. A few others were slightly shorter and less conical shaped, but big enough to hold ten or so people comfortably. These were made of an even thicker burlap-like material. They were laid out seemingly at random, with no organization or rigid rows or any of the usual symmetry Aidan was used to seeing. Some were clumped around fire pits and others off on their own.

  Several of them were also on fire.

  The flames flickered and danced as they tried to devour the odd buildings, but they didn't seem to be making much progress. Not paper, then. Or if it was paper it was obviously protected by some kind of fire-resistant magic Aidan had never heard of. One of the smaller structures collapsed in on itself as they watched and Aidan stared open-mouthed, wondering why no one was around trying to put it out.

  And then he noticed the bodies.

  They were everywhere, dozens upon dozens of them, all over the ground between the structures. Men, women…some children.

  Too many children.

  Some had their throats ripped out, others didn't have heads and still more had jagged, bloody holes where their hearts used to be. Some were so dismembered or blown apart Aidan couldn't tell where one body started and the rest began; blood was everywhere. The, the wind changed, and the smell of decay and burning flesh crashed over Aidan like a wave, mixing with the scent of acrid smoke.

  Aidan threw up.

  Eallair looked away, giving Aidan his privacy. He walked over and knelt next to one group of bodies, seemingly undisturbed by the smell or the gruesomeness. He cursed under his breath, then stood up and rushed over to Aidan.

  "We need to get out of here. Now."

  "Wh—" Aidan spit the remaining foulness out of his mouth and coughed, the smoke and the stench making it almost impossible to breathe. "What happened?"

  Eallair frowned slightly. "You can't feel it?"

  "What?" Aidan asked, but even as he did, he thought he caught something shifting in the air. An underlying sense of wrongness that made his chest ache and his skin crawl. Somehow, he knew it was something more than his horror and disgust at the slaughter in front of him.

  "Necromancy," Eallair said with disgust.

  Aidan felt the blood drain from his face. "Are you sure?" It was a flimsy hope at best;
now that he noticed it, he couldn't stop feeling the sickly taint.

  "Aye," Eallair said grimly, dashing even that hope. "It’s impossible to forget, once you feel it. It stains the air with its foulness and makes your magic squirm with its unnatural corruption. This didn't happen all that long ago either, fires would be out if it were more’n a few hours. Some of these corpses have been rottin’ for weeks though. Look." He pointed towards one group of bodies and, despite his revulsion, Aidan looked. "The ones all ripped up and blown apart died months or even years ago. Someone brought ‘em back, made them attack. The only way to ‘kill’ a reanimated corpse is to blast it to bits."

  Oh Merlin, he's right.

  Now that Aidan looked, he saw that every group of bodies around him was the same. Fresh corpses with one or two horrible wounds and older ones with rotting flesh blown into pieces. He started gagging again.

  "Wh-what do we do now?" he asked when he got himself under control, thankfully without more vomiting.

  "We leave."

  Aidan frowned slightly, his eyes unconsciously sliding back to the nearest child, its throat a mess of ragged tatters, before he closed his eyes and turned his head. It wasn't that he was in any hurry to stick around, but it just seemed wrong to just…leave. "Shouldn't we…bury them, or something?"

  "There's no time," Eallair said, practically vibrating with impatience. "There ain't enough new dead here to count for the whole village, which means they ain't all dead, and since none of them are here that means they're all out doing somethin’ more important than keepin’ their tepees and yurts from burning down, or tending to their dead."

  Realization dawned on Aidan. "They're looking for the necromancer."

  "Aye. And we don't wanna be here when they get back. Especially if they don't find him."

  Aidan heart stuttered in his chest. "They wouldn't think we're…"

  Eallair looked at him levelly. "We don't wanna stick around to find out."