The Isle of Mists: An Epic Mage Fantasy Adventure (Legend of Ecta Mastrino Book 3)

by BJ Hanlon

  The talent was being suppressed, as if a door was closing slowly to keep the talent outside. Edin noticed the small black stones melted into gray granite walls.

  There were three steel doors shooting off the main room. Two to the sides and one in front. Placisus stopped to chat with who Edin assumed was the head jailor while

  the broson and the remaining guards turned to the left door and led him deeper inside. A row of cells sat to the right, a bare stone wall to the left.

  They put him in the furthest barred cell, nearly half the size of the others with a small pallet at the back, a thin blanket, and a pot. He heard a drip of water and spotted another droplet forming on the ceiling.

  Without a word, he went in and the gate slammed closed. The sound sent a shiver up his spine.

  As they were turning away the broson stopped and stared at him. He grinned showing yellowed teeth. The look in his eyes was one that promised harm.

  From down the hall, a man barked something and they all, the broson included, headed back. The thick door slammed shut and Edin moved toward the pallet.

  It wasn’t like there was much to explore, he had a place to relieve himself and a place to sleep. The chill lingered, and he realized it was much colder down here. Edin sat on the pallet, the only thing to keep his body off the floor. Edin curled up beneath the blanket and rested his head on an arm before closing his eyes.

  A sound, a squeak, came from somewhere in the distance. It was as if a mouse were being pulled by the tail. It woke him… or maybe he never really slept.

  Edin opened his eyes to darkness. Complete darkness. For a moment, he thought maybe his eyes were still closed.

  They weren’t. Someone had turned out the lights.

  “Hello…” Edin called out tentatively, sweat formed on his brow. He called out again, no one answered. Jailed alone and without sight. Something was wrong. Even more wrong than he’d previously imagined.

  He felt the edge of the pallet and slowly moved toward the brick wall. Next to him, he heard the drips of water. He huddled near it feeling the soft taps on his shoulder like some ghostly damp finger.

  He put his hand in front of his face, he imagined it there, but could see nothing. He didn’t like the darkness, it was all enveloping and painful. He needed a light, an ethereal light.

  But the wan stones had sliced his connection to the talent like it had been his arm or leg.

  He heard something from down the cell block.

  Fear rose. “Hello?” His voice quivered in the darkness.

  Someone was there, he could feel it.

  Edin needed light, he needed to be able to see. He couldn’t fight in the dark, maybe Dephina could, but not him and at that moment, he did want to live.

  Edin needed his talent. Had to have it. He reached for it and focused his mind. It was like digging a well with his bare hands.

  It was a part of him and a part of the world around him. That he knew.

  But nothing happened, no feeling in his gut, only the slow tears of frustration.

  The clatter of a stone came from somewhere down the hall.

  Again, he begged the gods to let him know why he had to be a mage? Why had they cursed him?

  Then he tried again, tried to bring it back his concentration, but his mind kept moving. He heard something. Or did he? Was there a flicker of light at the end of the hall? Something green?

  Edin pressed his back into the wall and pushed up with his legs. They were strong, as was his body.

  Sandon learned that the hard way. The wan stones didn’t affect his speed. Sandon learned that the hard way. He had near terrin speed.

  Shivers from the cold dungeon rolled up and down his body. He took a step, his footfall clapped and echoed.

  “Arianne,” he whispered and closed his eyes.

  He felt his breathing steady and tried to clear his mind. Edin needed to see. Something or someone was out there, beyond the bars. He concentrated trying to see with his mind, seeming to delve deep into his own body, his own consciousness.

  He didn’t know how much time had passed with his eyes closed. Edin felt inside himself, searched for the way to latch onto his talent. It was his only hope. Then something twitched in his gut, small like the final flicker of an oil lamp cut off from its fuel. But this was the opposite.

  Edin shook his head, almost shocked by the small burst of energy.

  Opening his eyes, he saw a pair of green orbs floating in the air. What… who was that? A click came in that direction. Then another. The sound was familiar, where’d he hear it? His heart raced as he stared into them. What were they?

  Edin concentrated on his breathing, trying to ignore the clicking and felt the air flow in and out. A twinge grew in his stomach again. It wasn’t to be confused with his hunger. Or was it? Was it just a figment of his imagination?

  Edin held onto it. He let it grow.

  It was meek at first, then slowly he felt it build. Sweat beat down. It felt as if he were pushing a thousand-pound boulder up a hill. It moved but just barely as his body and mind strained.

  But he kept it moving, fighting the oppressive feeling trying to hold it back.

  The clicks stopped. It was a crossbow. Edin opened his eyes, saw the green orbs about eye height.

  His heart skipped, then he heard the snapping of the trigger and the throng of the string.

  Edin let a small ethereal ball appear as he dove to the side. He felt a searing pain in his shoulder and cried out. It was echoed immediately after by another scream, a higher pitched one. The light disappeared leaving only the outline of a the ethereal ball.

  The screaming, moaning wails moved away from him, then he heard a thud and a grunt. Wood clattered to the ground. Edin felt the searing pain It got his shoulder...

  Edin dropped into the corner and then he heard the door slam open. Far to the left, he saw the orange glow of the firelight.

  “Why are the torches out?” Someone screamed.

  Edin touched his shoulder and it burned. He screamed, his breathing was heavy and labored. Edin tried to stand. His balance felt off and he tilted forward splattering onto the floor of the cell.

  A man yelled questions that were fading from his mind. “Who are you? How’d you get in here?”

  A woman howled, “I can’t see!”

  “What are these… green spectacles?”

  Edin groaned.

  “Is someone down here?”

  “What are you talking about?” another voice said.

  Edin heard footsteps coming near him.

  “She’s an assassin! Grab her!” The one yelled beyond the moaning screams of the woman. “We have a body…” Edin groaned, “he’s alive, call the...” The world faded.

  8

  Prison Ward

  Edin felt something press between his lips. Then someone gripped his mouth and began to open it. A warm thin broth poured into his mouth. He swallowed, not sure if he did it or it was his body’s natural reaction.

  Another spoonful of the broth flavored with chicken. Something stringy flowed in and lodged itself at the edge of his throat.

  Edin coughed, broth splattered out.

  A woman shrieked as the warm liquid dribbled down his cheeks settling into his beard.

  Footsteps pounded, Edin couldn’t open his eyes.

  “How is he?” It was Le Fie’s voice with a hint of worry.

  “The poison is gone but… the healer believes it’s something more.” A woman said. “Exhaustion… talent exertion to be exact.”

  “What? The place is lined with wan…” his voice trailed off. A few moments later, he heard shuffling, a dull thud, and a shriek from the nurse. Metal crashed and a glass shattered.

  “Placisus, how the heck could you let this happen?” Le Fie wasn’t shouting, his voice was low but somehow offered more menace.

  “Get your hands off me!” Placisus gargled. “I gave strict orders no one entered after we placed him there. There’s no way in unless you blow through a ya
rd of solid stone…”

  Edin groaned. He had no idea what they were talking about. His mind swam with darkness. He groaned.

  “Is he awake?”

  “I don’t know, please come back later,” the woman said, “he can’t be rattled.”

  “I want a guard at the door. No one but me enters. Not even Pharont, I declare this island security matters,” Le Fie said.

  “You can’t. Only…”

  “Test me again… my friend,” Le Fie growled.

  Edin remembered nothing after.

  He was unsure of anything when he woke. He felt as if his brain were stuck in a bog. He felt his breath moving in and out of his mouth. His chest rose steadily and a pain pulsed in his arm. Edin shivered.

  After a long time, he peeled open his eyes. A white curtain surrounded him hanging limply from wooden runners. Sweat tickled his brow despite a chill.

  He was in a small bed covered in a thick blanket, diffused moonlight shone in through the cloth in a palpable glow.

  The scent of herbs wafted in from unseen sources. It was an infirmary and he felt alone.

  Edin felt a tickle at his nose, he was tired, and tried to ignore it. Finally, he needed to scratch it.

  His arm wouldn’t move. Edin could feel it, but couldn’t control it. The other arm was the same. Edin’s heart raced as he tried moving his legs, tried to sit up. Nothing worked.

  A panic hit his chest, he felt like he was there… but wasn’t.

  What was wrong with me?

  “Help,” the word went from his mind, but wouldn’t pass his lips. Alarm grew in him like the rot of an old apple. Was he paralyzed? His mind raced, he remembered… Le Fie leading him to the guard captain.

  What did he do? A throaty groan like that of a frog came from him. He tried to think, to move.

  Only his eyes worked. Edin shifted them around trying to see, but he couldn’t move his head. Soon, they demanded to close and Edin fell back into darkness.

  The next time he woke, it was daylight. A few moments later, a nurse pulled back the curtain and smiled.

  “You’re awake,” she said. “That’s good. I am going to have to change you.” She was rather pretty with silvery blond hair and a genuine smile. She held the soft look of someone used to caring for others.

  Edin still couldn’t move or speak and was shocked when she pulled back the blanket and he got a whiff of something awful.

  “My…” she said. “I have to bathe you too I guess.” Her smile was still on her face but it was clearly forced.

  After the most embarrassing hour of his life, Edin fell back asleep.

  He was going to have nightmares about the smell, seeing the nurse pull off his undertrousers, wiping his nether regions with a sponge and covering him with some odd skirt-like cloth...

  It took many days for him to be able to move his body again. Edin woke briefly and even ate some food though it was soup that did nothing to quell his hunger.

  It was evening again as he woke. Beyond the curtain, he saw the outline of a single torch. There was no sound and he didn’t know who was out beyond this new cell.

  A moment later, boot steps on the stone floor and then the torchlight disappeared as the door slammed shut.

  Soon, he began remembering more of what led him here. The arrest by the brosons, the one striking Dorset, him being imprisoned, and then the floating green orbs…

  As the feeling and control over his body improved, Edin stayed silent on the fact that he could move again. Someone tried to kill him, they got into the jail and used a poisoned bolt... but somehow, the ball of ethereal light cut through the wan stones for just a moment. Somehow, it saved him.

  Edin stared at his few visitors still not talking or moving, though he was sure Madame Caesum knew he had regained his body when she prodded his foot and he twitched.

  When the nurse came around, Edin couldn’t look in her eyes and his face flushed.

  Then yesterday… or at least he thought it was, Edin had heard a muted commotion beyond some partition. He remembered the muffled voices and thought he could make out Pharont’s, but couldn’t be sure.

  Edin was sick of this place, sick of needing people to watch over him, sick of being useless. He needed to get out. Edin pushed the blanket off and twisted to get his feet to the floor. He tried standing, felt the rush of blood and the weakness of his legs and sat back down. He groaned and dropped his head to his hands.

  It took minutes for him to stand and actually keep his balance. Air brushed his body beneath the hospital tunic tied loosely around his lower back. It was a short dress, exposing him, all of him, to the elements.

  Edin poured water from a copper pitcher and drank. It took three refills before he felt satiated and well enough to move. He pulled back the curtain to reveal eight beds, four on his side and four across from him, in a tall rectangular room. All were empty and across the room, he saw four large arched windows.

  It was dark outside, the moonlight barely puncturing the thin slat shutters. Edin unlatched one and pulled it open an inch. Below, were street lamps gliding down a narrow tree lined path. At the far end was a courtyard that looked somewhat familiar.

  Then he saw it to the left, sitting back like a man trying to hide from sight, the castle.

  He was inside the castle walls, still presumably under arrest.

  Below him, he saw something move through the light. Edin pulled back and watched as a guard strolled casually down the crunchy path toward him.

  He was a prisoner in a hospital. It seemed unlike Pharont to offer him such comforts and Edin didn’t like it. It felt wrong.

  Maybe he was just being paranoid. Probably. But the machinations of this place seemed to be beyond those of the Rulers of Bestoria. Or maybe he was just naïve.

  Edin spied a chest at the foot of his bed. Inside he found his clothes and somehow, his coin purse. He put on his trousers and found his boots beneath the cot. The tunic he’d been wearing had a tear in his left shoulder.

  As he was changing, muffled voices came through the only door at the far end of the room. Edin stood as a statue. He waited staring at the door willing it to stay closed.

  Then the jangling of keys.

  Quickly, he grabbed a pair of pillows and laid them on his cot before covering them with his blanket. A trick he’d used to sneak out at the manor.

  He dropped to the ground and slid underneath the bed.

  The keys slid in, Edin’s heart raced. The door swung open, just barely, offering a shaft of light that shined on the closed curtain. He saw a boot first, then a hand. A tall guard stepped inside but didn’t shut the door.

  Edin watched from the shadows, trying to hold his breath. He was weak and his connection to the talent was somewhat faint. The guard’s metallic steps clacked over the stone floor; the curtain yanked back quickly. He held his breath, watching as the guard just stood there.

  Was he here to check on Edin… or to kill him? Edin blinked and waited for the sound of the weapon being drawn. It felt like ten minutes of just standing there…

  Instead, the man turned and walked back toward the door.

  Edin heard the key slide into the lock and the bolt slam.

  He was a prisoner.

  Edin had to leave, he had to get off this island. Forget the spellcraft or this illusion of safety. He’d have been better off staying in Resholt, trying to get to Calerrat and blending in with the commoners.

  Edin had to leave and soon. He slipped out from under the bed and moved toward the door. There was no sound from the other side. He needed his sword and then he’d have to find a way off this place. Maybe he could steal one of the small boats.

  He thought of Arianne. Did she even know what happened? She may have cared or at least acted like it before, but she hadn’t visited him had she?

  Edin slipped back to the window and saw the same guard walking back toward the courtyard. Edin pushed the shutter outward a little more, enough to slip through.

  Beneath was a
windowsill about a foot wide and below that, a long drop to wicked looking bushes rising from dirt beds. He stepped up onto the windowsill and pushed the shutter open further. Edin sat, stuck a leg out, then another and twisted so he was facing inside. His muscles shook as he began to lower himself down with his feet tickling the wall.

  Then there was no wall. Edin looked down and saw a gap. Another window maybe. If someone happened to take a peep out of the window at that moment, he’d be spotted.

  He had to act quickly. Edin took another glance down at the prickly bushes. This was going to hurt.

  Edin dropped, he felt his legs scraping and his trousers ripping. A sharp point jabbed the back of his thigh. He knew it drew blood. Twigs snapped and leaves rustled as he pulled himself from the bushes to a manicured lawn and then beneath an oak tree.

  Edin crouched and scooted between the trees flowing the path toward the gate. He moved slowly and cautiously and began to hear the low din of voices.

  Soon, he saw men seated at a stone table. They wore guard uniforms and were staring intently at some sort of game before them. Further to the right was another guard puffing on a pipe and leaning against the outer wall.

  Edin hid behind a tree for ten or so minutes before the man at the wall crossed the open courtyard toward the men playing the game.

  He slid beneath the trees to the path and not looking at the guards, he circled to the right and straight toward the open gate like a man with a purpose.

  No one objected.

  Outside, there were two other guards leaning like crooked statues against the wall. Edin didn’t acknowledge them and turned down an avenue across the square. He guessed they were more worried about people entering than exiting the castle. He didn’t look back and headed east to get his weapon and provisions.

  The exertion took a lot out of him. As he reached the small hill before the Reaches Tower, he was barely picking up his feet.

  It was still dark and the only sounds were noisy crickets and the ocean still beating against the cliff. This was the first place anyone would look for him, but where else would he go?