Ty tried to shout. To warn them. He fought to move, to make some noise, to do anything. He was as useless as he’d been the day his mother died.
Gilly waddled around the corner, and Mangora grabbed him by the neck and shoved him up against the side of the tunnel, Ty’s hand pressed against his mouth. The little man jumped up and down, trying to break free, but Mangora’s grip was firm. There was confusion in his eyes as he saw who had him, and for a brief moment, he stopped struggling. That’s when Mangora slammed his head up against the stone wall. He cried out, but his scream was muffled by Ty’s hand.
“Stop! You’re going to kill him!” Blood seeped down the side of Gilly’s face where it had hit one of the rocks jutting from the wall.
“Don’t move, midget,” she said. “Don’t even whimper, or I’ll turn your insides out and let you play with them before you die.”
Gilly went limp in Ty’s arms. The confusion on his face burned Ty to the core. Ty tried looking away so he didn’t have to see the hurt in the man’s eyes, but it was no use. He was forced to watch it all.
Mangora shoved Gilly forward, using him as a shield as she marched him toward the voices.
The tunnel opened into a small cavern with a pool of water at its center. Natural shelves of rock protruded from the wall, each lined with rows of items from her shop as the members unloaded the crates they’d carted down.
“Well, isn’t this quite the handy little hideaway,” Mangora said, stepping out of the tunnel with Gilly in front. “Glad to see you’ve made such good use of my stuff.”
Everyone turned.
“Ty?” His father stepped away from one of the shelves at the back and started forward. “What are you . . . How did you find this place?” He stopped in back of the pool and looked at Gilly, then at Ty. His brows lowered with the same confused look that Gilly had when Mangora had pinned him against the wall. “Gilly, are you all right?”
Gilly didn’t move.
“He will be as soon as you tell me what you think you’re doing here.”
“Look, Ty, I’m sorry we didn’t tell you, but with everything you’ve been through lately, I thought it best we didn’t add to your troubles.” He took a step forward. “Mangora seems to be growing into an obsession. And we can all see it’s affecting you.”
“It’s not me!” Ty shouted, but no one heard him.
“Just let Gilly go, son,” his father said, moving a little closer.
“Don’t take another step,” Mangora threatened, raising Ty’s hand and calling on his magic. Blue flames rose from his palm.
His father’s expression shifted from confusion to concern, and he froze, glancing at the others. “Why are you acting like this, Ty?”
Ty fought to break free. He was in control, he told himself. He concentrated on a single action: moving his hand away from Gilly’s neck. He tried to remember what it felt like for his elbow to bend, his fingers to curl, his shoulder to turn.
Nothing. He wanted to cry. This couldn’t be happening. Not again.
“Ty, what are you’re doing?” Breen asked, stepping away from the right wall, keeping Fraya protectively hidden behind him. “Have you completely lost your mind? Let Gilly—”
“Stop!” Mangora shouted, pointing at Breen. “I said don’t take another step.”
Breen froze. “It’s that book, isn’t it?”
Mangora pushed Gilly farther into the chamber, closer to where the others were now standing. “Not so thick-headed after all.”
Ty’s father looked at Breen. “What book?”
“What do you want?” Ty yelled at Mangora. “If you want your stuff, then let me talk to them. I can persuade them.”
Mangora laughed. “Nice try.”
“The boy’s gone daft,” Feoldor said on the left, holding one half of a chest while Orlyn held the other.
“You got brain rot, boy?” Orlyn asked, slowly lowering the container and reaching for his staff.
“Ah! Don’t you think about it.”
“Please,” Ty finally begged, realizing his threats were as hollow as the cave they were standing in. “Please, don’t hurt them.”
The tension in the room was as sharp as a knife. One little spark would set the whole thing—
Gilly raised his hand.
Ty froze. No!
A column of water rose from the center of the pool and flew straight back at them. But before it hit, Mangora muttered something under her breath and sent it careening into the wall behind them, sending rocks flying in all directions as it shook the cavern.
Mangora kicked Gilly’s short legs out from under him. “I told you not to move.”
“NO!” Ty fought with everything in him to take control. To stop her. But his hand lowered nonetheless, blue flames licking at his palm. He could feel the magic swelling once again as she turned and sent the fire down into the little man.
Gilly ignited in a ball of blue light, the heat so intense he couldn’t even scream.
Ty reacted on instinct. This time, instead of reaching for his body, he dove for the one thing he could still feel. His magic.
For a split second it obeyed, and the flames disappeared.
“What?” Mangora looked at Ty’s hand. “That’s not suppos—”
Something hit him from behind, and Ty flew forward across the rock and directly for the pool.
Mangora screamed as they hit the surface of the water and went in. She turned, and Ty spotted Sheeva’s amber eyes staring down at them just before something grabbed them and sucked them down.
It was a current. A strong one.
Mangora was still screaming as they were dragged by the water through the underground tunnel. Her screams might not have been audible underwater, but he could certainly hear them in his head.
This was bad. Had she taken a breath before they went in? At this point, Ty almost didn’t care. He’d just killed one of the nicest, most innocent people in all of Aldor. He hoped they both drowned. Wait. Will Mangora drown? She isn’t even here. This was Ty’s body. He fought to move, but he still didn’t have control. He couldn’t die. Not like this. Not to her. He struggled to keep his mind alive. He’d managed to regain at least part of his magic for that split moment before being thrown into the water. Maybe he could do it again?
He was having a hard time concentrating. He was surrounded by darkness. Or was it just the fact that they were in an underground cavern about to drown? His legs and arms had gone completely limp. He wasn’t moving at all, other than bouncing off the walls as the current swept him along. Why wasn’t he moving? Was Mangora gone? He was having a hard time concentrating.
This must be what it’s like to die.
Suddenly, the current stopped, and he was no longer being pulled along. Instead, he seemed to be floating. He didn’t know if he was floating up or down or simply in place. His body spasmed as it gasped for air. He was drowning. This couldn’t be the end. This couldn’t—
His mouth opened unexpectedly, and he took a huge gulp of air. His eyes opened as well, blurry at first, but then clearing enough to see that his head was resting just above the water. On his left was the dock, all four boats still tied in place.
The current had pulled him all the way back to the river.
Chapter 70 | Breen
“WHAT DID YOU DO?” Breen shouted at Sheeva as he ran for the water, ready to jump in.
Fraya grabbed his arm and pulled him back before he could.
“I did what was necessary,” Sheeva said, backing away.
“You killed him. You killed Ty.”
“Whoever that was,” Feoldor said, shuffling down to the water to take a look for himself, “it wasn’t Ty.”
“Fraya, quick. He’s still breathing.”
Breen turned. His father was kneeling beside Gilly, whose body was severely charred. Breen couldn’t believe the little man was still alive.
Fraya released Breen’s jacket and ran to help.
As soon as she let go, Breen dropped to his
knees beside the water’s edge. He knew he should be more worried about Gilly, but all he could think about was his brother being sucked underwater and out of sight. Was he drowning? Or possibly already dead? He couldn’t lose another member of his family. Not like this.
“Give me some room, please,” Fraya said as the rest of the council crowded around.
Over his shoulder, Breen could see her hands glowing. He said a quick prayer for the little man and turned back to the pool. What if Ty was stuck just under the surface? What if there was a way to save him?
“That would be a bad idea.”
A hand rested on Breen’s shoulder. He looked up to find Veldon standing beside him, kerchief hanging from his other hand.
“No telling where that water goes,” the portmaster said, looking over the side. He released Breen’s shoulder and headed to the front of the cavern where the rest of the council were gathered around Fraya. “What say we see how Gilly’s doing, aye?”
Breen squeezed his fists as tight as he could, knuckles turning white. He needed to leave the pool. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted to jump in or weep. Or both.
“Breen, come help Fraya,” his father said.
Breen pulled himself away from the water’s edge and walked over to where Fraya was leaning against his father, her head lolling to the side, evidently too weak to lift it. Gilly, too, lay there. He wasn’t quite as disfigured as before—the skin was no longer melted shut around his eyes, nose, and mouth—but he still looked like meat that had been left on the spit for too long. The areas that had blackened were now a fiery red. Thankfully, his chest was continuing to rise and fall.
“Can you get me one of the apples from my satchel?” Fraya asked.
“I’ve got one here,” Orlyn said, digging into one of the inner pockets of his robe. He pulled out a bright yellow apple and handed it to her. “I promise you won’t taste a finer fruit.”
She smiled her thanks and bit into it, juices beading at the corner of her mouth. Breen leaned over and picked her up. He carried her to the side and propped her against one of the shelves of rock beside the entrance.
Sheeva, who had been guarding the tunnel, moved to the other side of the opening to give them room. Feoldor joined her, making sure to keep his distance as he glanced nervously into the dark passageway beyond.
Breen tucked a blanket under Fraya’s head. “How’s that?”
Fraya nodded. “Better. The apple’s helping.”
“Will he live?” Veldon asked, kneeling to get a better look at Gilly’s wounds.
“Yes. But he’ll be in a lot of pain when he wakes, at least until I can recover enough to finish the job.”
“I’m so sorry, my friend,” Veldon said, reaching out to touch the little man but seeming to think better of it.
“I can help with the pain.” Orlyn dug through the pockets of his baggy robe. He removed a small vial holding a greenish liquid. “When he wakes, I’ll be sure to give him some of this. Special tincture I make from tellareen mushrooms.”
Breen’s father turned. “Aren’t those supposed to . . .”
Orlyn smiled. “I might have sampled a few too many in my younger years, but I assure you, this particular tincture isn’t habitual.”
Breen’s father raised his brow.
“I say it’s time we leave,” Feoldor grumbled over by the entrance. “What if Ty comes back? We’re stuck in here like jackrabbits in a cage.”
“We can’t move Gilly,” Veldon said, glancing at Fraya. “Can we?”
She shook her head. “I wouldn’t.”
“How far do you think we’re going to get?” Breen’s father said, pointing down the tunnel. “Gilly’s the only one who can get us out.”
“Flaming faeries!” Feoldor said in a panic. “I hadn’t even thought of that. What if he doesn’t make it?” He turned and looked at Gilly. “We’ll starve down here. No one knows where we are.”
“Why does the glass always have to be half empty with you?” Breen’s father said, giving Feoldor a stern look. “Gilly’s going to make it.” He turned and looked at Breen. “Now, what is all this about a book? Whoever that was back there, it wasn’t my son.”
Breen bit his tongue. This was a conversation he wasn’t looking forward to. “Ty found a book in Mangora’s shop a few weeks back, back before we had decided what to do with everything.” He shrugged. “Seemed harmless enough. The book was empty.”
“There was nothing written in it?”
Breen shook his head.
“Then why did you think the book was the problem?”
Breen sighed. How was he going to explain this? “Because he . . . he talks to it.”
“He what?” Feoldor said, tugging his whiskers.
“I’ve seen him talking to it in bed when he thinks I’m asleep.”
“And you didn’t think that odd?”
“After what Ty’s been through, I find it odd he’s even walking around.”
Orlyn leaned on his staff. “Did you ever hear it . . .” He sighed. “I can’t believe I’m about to ask this. Did you ever hear it talk back?”
Breen looked at the man like he was crazy. “No, I never heard it talk back. What kind of question was that?”
Orlyn shrugged. “Just wondering. If it came from that dark den Mangora calls a shop, one can never be too careful.”
The muscles in Breen’s neck tensed. “Honestly, I don’t really know if the book is the problem; all I know is what I’ve seen. And I’d rather think this transformation was due to dark magic than to think my brother has suddenly lost all reason and wants to kill us all.”
“Did the book have a name?” Fraya asked.
“Hidden Perceptions, I think. But other than that, I don’t know much more. And honestly,” he said, standing, “I don’t really care, because my brother is probably dead right now, floating in some underground pocket of water, and none of it matters.”
“It’s called a numori.”
Breen spun on his heels and reached for his bow, forgetting he’d laid it down on the other side of the cavern to help Fraya. He grabbed a dagger instead.
Someone in a grey robe shuffled into the cavern, Sheeva standing directly behind them. “And if Ty has gotten his hands on one, we’re in greater danger than you know.” The man removed his hood.
“Nyalis!” Breen’s father was the first across the cavern to greet the old wizard.
Breen lifted Fraya and chased after them.
“How did you find us?” his father asked.
“I’m a wizard,” Nyalis said, as if that explained everything. “I’ve been waiting on Ty to return so he could begin his quest, but after weeks with no word, I started to get worried.” He looked around. “Apparently, for good reason.”
“Your timing’s off once again, you old codger,” Feoldor grumbled. “We could have used your assistance an hour ago when that boy was trying to kill us all. As it is, he cooked our friend over there like a roast pig.”
Orlyn nudged Feoldor in the side with his elbow. “Show some respect.”
“Well, it’s true. And if it wasn’t for our little white-haired wonder behind you, we’d all be charred crispies for sure.”
“Where is he?” Nyalis asked.
Feoldor pointed to the water. “Sheeva sent him headfirst into there.”
Nyalis walked to the edge of the pool and raised his hand out over the water. After a minute, he lowered it. “He’s alive.”
“How do you know?” Breen asked, walking down to the water, Fraya still in his arms.
“The water here flows out to the river just below the cabin I saw on my way here. I don’t sense him in the water.”
“Great!” Feoldor said, glancing back at the tunnel entrance. “He’s probably on his way back to finish the job.”
Before Nyalis could turn around, Breen held Fraya out for him to inspect. “Will she be all right?”
Nyalis felt her forehead, looked in one ear, then pinched her nose and winked.
“She’ll be fine.” He left the pool and headed across the rock to where Gilly was lying up against a rock shelf. “I see you still have that staff handy,” he said to Orlyn as he passed. “Good.”
Orlyn nodded. “More for my legs than anything.”
Nyalis knelt beside the dwarf and studied the burns. “You’ve done a nice job so far,” he said to Fraya. “But you still have much to learn.” He held his hands over Gilly’s chest and closed his eyes. As he mumbled something, his hands began to glow a bright gold, much brighter than Fraya’s had been. Breen watched in awe as Gilly’s skin knitted back together, leaving a healed but naked dwarf in the process. The little man opened his eyes.
“It’s good to see you back with us,” Veldon said, standing to the side.
Gilly smiled when he saw him, then looked down and squealed.
Breen’s father quickly draped a blanket they had used to wrap some of the more breakable items around him, then helped Nyalis to his feet, leaving Gilly to rest.
“So, tell me more about Ty,” Nyalis said, walking over and sitting on a nearby shelf, low enough to crawl up on. “Start from the beginning and don’t leave anything out. Even the smallest detail could be important.”
Since Breen was the one who’d been with his brother from the beginning, he was the one to tell the story, starting with their inspection of Mangora’s shop, Ty’s decision to take the book, the council’s decision to relocate her stuff, Ty’s arrival in the cavern, his attack on Gilly, and finally his exit through the underground aquifer.
“What exactly is happening to my son?” Breen’s father asked before Breen got the chance. “More importantly, how can we help him?” Breen noticed his father didn’t ask the question of whether Ty could be helped, but simply how they were going to do it.
“A numori is a bit difficult to explain,” Nyalis said. “It’s a type of magic that, if used in the wrong way, can be very dangerous. It allows for control.”
“What kind of control?” Breen asked.
“If a wielder uses the spell properly, they can gain control over the object that is spelled. Take a book, for example. I could use a numori spell on a book I’m reading that would give me the ability to turn its pages without me having to physically reach out with my hand and flip them. It’s as though, for a time, I’m part of the book, or the book is a part of me. Like the pages are my fingers. Flipping a page would be just as easy as moving a finger.”
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