“I honestly don’t have the time to rattle off a list,” Jazai muttered and extended his hand a little farther. “But what does it matter? You like to gamble, so come on!”
Wulfsun snickered, sighed, and moved his hand toward him. “Well, I guess it’s true. But hurry, will you?”
The diviner took his hand and drew some of his mana, and it formed a yellow orb within him. “I’m sure your plan would have been so much faster.”
“Get going,” the Templar snapped and the boy shook his head reluctantly and disappeared. The large man folded his arms and smiled for a brief moment. The apprentice was proving his worth, as much of a pain as he could be. He was certainly smart and gifted and deserved to be praised to his father the next time Wulfsun saw the man.
A few minutes passed and he wondered if something had gone wrong. He toyed with the idea of making another attempt, mainly to fill the time, but a bright flash of light erupted in front of him. With a muttered curse, he shielded his eyes but when it began to fade, he saw Asla, Jazai, and Farah emerge from the brightness.
“There you are. Well done!” He grinned broadly as he walked to them. “Now let’s—wait. Where’s Devol?”
“I couldn’t find him,” Jazai admitted. “He’s probably deeper in, which means there is still one illusion left.”
“Well then, get to him,” the Templar ordered. “What? Did you need permission?”
The diviner shook his head. “No, but I wanted to bring us together before I set off. Besides, if he is farther in, we’ll need to get Farah closer.”
“Fair enough,” he conceded. “How far in do you think he is?”
“I don’t know but probably fairly deep.” Jazai rolled his shoulders. “So while I search for him, I need you to do something.”
Wulfsun nodded. “Aye, what do you need?”
Jazai held his arms up and his expression revealed that he was not amused by this request. “I need you to carry me.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Devol placed one hand in the pocket of his pants and stared at the building. It had the appearance of a sanctuary or temple. It was large—three stories tall—and the roof and spires above seemed to have eroded considerably, which suggested that it had been abandoned for years. Dark-blue lines pulsated along the walls and to the left of the entrance, statues of what appeared to be Samara and Finis, the Astrals of life and death, stood like silent sentinels.
“Hey, Devol!” The swordsman turned as what appeared to be a blue ghost approached him. He readied his blade but the spirit stopped suddenly and held its hands up. “Whoa—watch where you point that! A majestic can do damage to me in this form.”
“Jazai?” He frowned and lowered his blade slightly. “What happened to you?”
“This is a cantrip. I’m using it to cross the illusions,” the diviner explained and paused to look curiously at the structure. “What is that?”
“I don’t know. It looks like a temple that might have been here before this area was overtaken,” the swordsman reasoned. “I’d hoped we could all meet here.”
“It’s not a bad plan, especially since I think you ended up on the correct plane.” Jazai looked around and nodded. “This area isn’t as twisted as the others, which means the rest of us might be the ones still in the illusion.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked.
Jazai hesitated for a moment, his gaze fixed speculatively on his friend’s sword. “Your majestic—try filling it with mana and releasing it behind me.”
Devol, while he had no idea what he tried to accomplish, obliged and began to fill Achroma with his mana. The light within the blade brightened. The diviner moved his projection hastily behind him as the swordsman leaned back and swiped the weapon forward. The glowing blade sliced through the trees but more importantly, it cut through the fog of darkness that surrounded them.
“What in the hells?” Wulfsun cried as he and the others in the group suddenly appeared in the distance when the fog dissipated.
“Wulfsun!” Devol shouted and waved at him to get his attention. “How did you know that would work?” he asked the projection.
“I didn’t,” Jazai admitted. “But it seemed miraculous that you were the only one to not be trapped in an illusion. I merely assumed that your majestic played a part in that.”
“Achroma, huh?” He looked at the sword with a mixture of pride and frustration. “I need to discover what it is capable of.”
“No kidding.” His friend floated away. “I’ll be right back. Wait here.”
The projection drifted to Wulfsun and floated onto his back. Jazai, now in his physical body, stretched his arms as the Templar dropped him casually. The two argued briefly, but Asla hurried to the young swordsman. “Devol, are you all right?”
“I’m fine, thank you,” he said with a smile. “I didn’t have a chance to get in any harm and haven’t come across anything other than these weird trees and this temple.”
“Samara and Finis?” Farah noted, her gaze fixed on the statues as she stopped behind Asla. “We don’t have any temples outside the city. By the design, this looks like a temple you would see in Britana.”
“There are two abyssal spots there,” Devol stated and returned his attention to the building, “If this magic ‘consumes’ things like Wulfsun said, perhaps it is swapping elements from each of the spots somehow?”
“That would explain where the trees came from,” the guard captain agreed and glanced over her shoulder. “And that rocky terrain we were in. I couldn’t see the color of the stone, but it looked like some of the ravines you might find in Soel.”
“It’s good to see you in one piece, Devol!” Wulfsun said as he and the diviner caught up. “Jazai said it was you who dispelled the illusion.”
“It was my majestic,” he said and held the blade up. “It was Jazai’s idea. I would never have thought to use it like that.”
“It’s probably best you start to,” his friend pointed out with a glance at the blade. “Honestly, it’s rather handy.”
“Do you think we should have a look at the temple?” Farah asked Wulfsun.
The Templar captain nodded. “It’s probably safer to do so and make sure nothing is hiding in there. But we have a fair distance to cover before we reach the center.”
The team of magi approached the structure cautiously. Asla’s ears twitched and Jazai’s eyes glowed. Both remained alert and scanned their surroundings to be sure nothing snuck up on them. The fact that nothing did seemed to make them more on edge.
“It’s too damn quiet,” Wulfsun muttered and Devol had to agree. They had been in the dome for about ten or fifteen minutes now and besides the illusions and the blast of abyssal magic they had walked through, nothing had occurred. The area itself seemed almost sterile, merely dirt beneath them and the temple in front of them, with no wind or noise around.
A crack was immediately followed by a snap and something darted around the Finis stature. Asla bared her teeth and Devol held his blade up, but Jazai simply pointed his index finger at the shadowy being that attempted to hide and fired a mana missile at it. It struck home and the creature fell, but it seemed to wiggle for a moment before it lay still. The three of them ran closer to examine it.
The swordsman looked at the small, thin black body with three clawed fingers on each hand and tiny, curved legs that ended in three clawed toes. Its head was gaunt and small nubs dotted the top. One of its eyes was partially closed but revealed faded yellow eyes. “I think this is…a Jota?”
Jazai knelt and flicked one of its long ears. “It is, but I’ve never heard of one with this color.”
“This place seems to darken everything within,” Asla commented and closed the imp’s eye. “It is possible that this is an Osirian jota.”
“The creatures stay together in packs.” Farah planted her sword into the dirt and knelt beside the wildkin. She ran a hand over the corpse and noted deep gashes in the flesh. “This one was injured even be
fore it was struck by the missile. It was hiding from something.”
Wulfsun joined them and examined the wounds “These cuts aren’t from any beast I am aware of. Not to mention that it seems steeped in this cursed magic.”
“Was something trying to eat it?” Devol asked.
“I haven’t the foggiest notion, honestly. This looks like something attacked it merely because it could. Anyone and anything knows that jotas can be trouble even on their own, but it is always near a pack. You should kill it in one strike or retreat.” Wulfsun took a blade from his leather strap and peeled the edges of the wound back. “It’s jagged and there are flecks of something in there.”
“Of what?” Farah asked as Wulfsun removed his blade and took something from the tip.
He studied it with a frown where it remained stuck on his finger. “It appears to be…blood?”
“Well, given that it was cut open, it isn’t a surprise, is it?” Jazai questioned.
“The jota’s blood is still fresh. This is clotted and…black…” Wulfsun’s words faltered and his eyes widened as he shook the congealed blood off his finger. “Ah, hells!”
A rumble issued from inside the temple. Those crouched beside the carcass straightened hastily and all except the Templar jumped back as he prepared a shield. A large, dark hand reached quickly from inside the temple, snatched the man, and began to drag him in.
“Wulfsun!” Devol cried before shocked shouts came from behind him.
“Agh!” He and Asla turned to where Farah and Jazai struggled with something on the ground. What looked like hands with shadowy claws had emerged from under the abyssal dirt to grasp their ankles and attempt to pull them down.
The diviner began to fire his cantrips at their attackers. One of the arms let go and he forced himself back. He heard a loud crack in the process and realized that he was almost free, but the arm still held fast to his ankle.
Farah pointed her blade at the soil and shouted in rage as she thrust her blade into the muck. A swirl of bright light coursed down it and into the earth. In the next moment, the ground ripped apart in a bright eruption and a being streaked out.
It looked like a person dressed in dark robes and pants, although the symbols on the robes were familiar. They were similar to those worn by the scholars at the entrance of the dome. Its arms were skeletal and curved at the fingers like talons. Farah tried to catch hold of it but was forced to let go when the being tried to cut her face. It shuffled along the ground, twisted, and reshaped itself before it stopped slowly, facing up. Both arms raised and curved into a frightening angle to stretch back, flatten its hands on the ground, and push itself up. It hobbled forward, its face obscured by the hood of the robe before it raised its head slowly to look at the rest of the group. The face was dark but had more definition than the sketches. It appeared starkly gaunt and had the same white eyes as the drawing.
“A fiend,” Jazai said, his voice low enough to be almost a whisper as he extended his hand.
Two more dropped from above the temple. Asla felt a rumble beneath her and pushed Devol and Jazai out of the way when more hands thrust out to snatch them. They missed their quarry and the owners of the arms forced themselves from the dirt to glare balefully at the magi.
“Not merely a fiend,” Devol muttered and the flames coursed over his body as Asla gathered herself. Farah let light surge along her blade and Jazai began to build his mana. “Many, many fiends.”
“Look at their robes,” the wildkin said and glanced at those behind them. “And the armor on those…”
“I guess we know what happened to everyone who was lost inside, huh?” Jazai grimaced and formed a shield as a couple inched closer. The beings crept around the group and their claws reached out as they stared blankly at them with hollow lights in their eyes. Their robes dragged along the ground, all in various states of disrepair, and pieces of the armor of others cracked under the strain of movement.
“Can they be saved?” Farah asked as they closed in.
“Unfortunately, I don’t believe we’ll have the chance for that,” Devol stated and held his blade up. “We need to hurry and see what happened to Wulfsun.”
The captain steadied herself, nodded, and sliced quickly through a fiend. Its body erupted in light and faded to nothing. Another swiped her arm and its claws scratched at her armor but bounced off. She placed her hand against its skull and fed her light magic into it. The being’s eyes and mouth lit up as the magic surged within. It crumpled under her grasp before it turned into a dark fog that disappeared into the ground.
Asla fell on all fours and let her anima surge as it took the form of a feral cat. She launched herself at two of their adversaries and sliced each through their chest before they could even react to her approach. As she turned, they began to repair themselves so she doubled back and attacked in a flurry of fearsome scratches. The armor fell as they also turned into fog and dissipated into the sky.
A fiend leapt at Jazai but he knocked it away with the shield. When another attempted to strike him from behind, he blinked behind it and extended his ring finger. The ring flared and a mana blade formed around his hand and sank into his attacker’s head.
“Shock!” He summoned an arc of electricity and sent it through the blade and into the fiend. It neither twisted nor flinched but began to stretch its hands toward him. He grunted, pulled the blade back as two more shambled closer to him, and raised a palm. “Pulse!” A wave of mana blasted out in front of him and hurled the three away. “Elemental magic doesn’t work on them. Be careful.”
“It’s not a big concern for me,” Devol replied and thrust his blade into an armored being, which filled and erupted with light similar to Farah’s magic. “If you need help, let me know.”
“Show off.” Jazai snorted and pointed his pinky at the recovering fiends. Chains were summoned around the three of them and he held both hands up. “Blast.” A large mana orb appeared in front of his palm and when he fired it at the creatures, they were instantly engulfed by it. The sphere erupted and the robes and armor scattered to leave only the dark fog that drifted into the trees.
Farah felt a sharp pain in her side and turned toward a half-destroyed fiend, a shadowy trail left under its chest, that had managed to inflict a small cut on her ribs. “Someone needs to finish their work!” she yelled and knocked it aside before she stabbed her blade into its head.
“It might have been me. My apologies!” Asla called and noticed two of the enemy that crept forward behind the light-magic-user. She slid her hand to the quiver Roko had given her, removed an arrow, and loaded it into the crossbow on her arm. Calmly, she fired the bolt and controlled it so it pierced the heads of both beings and stalled them. “Farah, behind you!”
The swordswoman spun and cleaved through the two. She nodded in thanks to the wildkin once she’d finished off her would-be ambushers.
Devol had become separated from the group and a line of fiends advanced on him. The distance from his teammates worked for him as he had no need to worry about where the others were when he attacked. He lifted his sword, built his mana up, and stretched the weapon skyward before he arced it at his enemies. The blade lengthened into a large blade of light that sliced the beings in half where they stood. They immediately turned into fog and disappeared into the ground or the air. He frowned as he watched it. Something was odd about the dark vapor but he would have to explore that later.
“I’m going find Wulfsun!” he shouted and sprinted to the temple. “Can you hold?”
“We’ll be fine,” Farah responded. “Whatever snatched him was far bigger than these annoyances. Find him!”
Devol nodded and ascended the stairs to the temple quickly. Once he stepped through the entrance, the doors slammed shut behind him and he was left in the dark. A loud shout from below sounded distinctly like Wulfsun. The boy found a large hole in the main chamber, and without hesitation, he leapt into it, hoping to find his mentor within.
Chapter Twenty-Four
>
Devol charged his anima as he plunged into a cavern below the temple. He landed with a splash in a shallow pool of water and used vis to compensate for the impact.
Even with the aid of his mana, his legs gave way and pain surged through his ankles and calves. “Wulfsun. Are you alive?”
“Devol, get down!” the Templar shouted and the boy ducked reflexively as something large flew overhead. He turned quickly to look for whatever had attacked him as his mentor splashed through the water toward him.
“What was that?” He gasped, retrieved his sword hastily from where he’d dropped in the shallow pool, and held it up.
“I haven’t been able to get a good look at it.” Wulfsun checked the boy and the rest of his gear. “But it didn’t look like any beast I know and it is bloody massive.”
Devol stood and began to walk to the bank. “I saw its eyes. It didn’t have any irises, only a blank void of white like the fiends above.”
“So there are fiends, then?” The Templar dug in his satchel and removed three red orbs. “Let’s hope they weren’t too badly damaged. I fell down here while fighting this blasted creature.” He lobbed them into the air and they hovered in place and illuminated with a bright red light. “I have a couple more but should probably save them in case this goes on for a while.”
The swordsman scrambled onto a pile of rocks and took a moment to catch his breath. “It looked huge—at least ten to twelve feet tall. Something like that shouldn’t be able to hide so easily.”
“Despite its size, it is a fast beastie.” Wulfsun looked at the hole high up in the ceiling. “I’m not sure we want to fight down here. Can you make it up there?”
“You’re by far the heavier of the two of us,” Devol replied as he studied the aperture carefully. “I can probably make it if I can get good footing. Do we want this beast to follow us to the surface, though?”
“Are you worried about the others?”
Bloodflowers Bloom (The Astral Wanderer Book 2) Page 13