Fire and Fantasy: A Limited Edition Collection of Urban and Epic Fantasy

by CK Dawn

  Angry shouting carried over the din as Marcus hacked down two more in quick succession, seeking to fight his way through to his newfound friend. The club man turned on Marcus and was rewarded with Marcus's blade in his belly. Tearing it free, Marcus whirled and found himself face to face with the one who had stabbed Dariyen.

  The thief was close, too close—Marcus could see his yellow teeth as the thief stared at him in slack-jawed amazement. The thief thrust at him with his dagger, the blade still bloody from where he'd plucked it out of Dariyen's chest. Marcus batted the arm away with his left hand and finding he was too close to swing his sword properly he shifted strategies and instead used the basket hilt of his broadsword to punch the thief in the face as hard as he could manage. The steel broke skin and struck bone, and the force of the impact knocked the murderous thief unconscious.

  Standing over their bodies, Marcus realized the shouting he could hear was his own voice as he bellowed his defiance at his attackers. The thieves hesitated at the primal rage manifesting before them. Seeing four of their number fall so swiftly gave them pause. Marcus looked down and saw Dariyen at his feet, clutching at his chest with both hands, blood seeping out of the wound. He knew his friend was not long for this world, and with the thugs bearing down on him again he knew that he would soon join him.

  Marcus was furious that a little gold had the capacity to ruin so many lives. Many of the thieves were dead or dying but five still remained and Marcus was tiring.. The Listarii Lord could feel the crushing weight of inevitability weighing down on him.

  “There's only one of 'em now, lads!” one shouted. “Bring him down. On the bright side, we won't have to split the gold quite so many ways.” The others seemed in agreement and after a moment's consideration they began to close once more.

  Five

  Marcus made ready to sell his life dearly.

  As the thugs closed in, all hell broke loose in the alleyway. A blinding light flashed along the length of the passage. When Marcus' eyes had adjusted to the flare he saw two of the men flying through the air as a noise akin to thunder pealed through the narrow confines of the alleyway, deafening those within.

  Wind hurtled down the passage. Marcus was disorientated and confused. There was another flash of light, and this time Marcus recovered in time to see a bolt of lightning slam into the attackers before him, the lance of energy arcing violently between them and throwing them off their feet, never to rise again. Only Marcus and a pair of thieves remained standing. All eyes watched in dumbstruck awe as a woman appeared out of the chaos.

  The woman was terrifying yet beautiful, her hair waving in the wind as her outstretched palms glowed with an ethereal light. At the sight of her the remaining thieves lost their nerve and fled, running as fast as they could manage in the opposite direction. The woman strode past Marcus who still stood speechless and rooted to the spot. Another lance of energy hurtled down the alleyway, knocking yet another thief off his feet and striking him against the alley wall before he landed heavily on the cobblestones.

  With the departure of the assailants, the air in the alleyway went still. The woman turned to face Marcus. “Are you injured?” she asked, ignoring the destruction she had just unleashed.

  Marcus was too shocked to respond. He simply shook his head in response.

  She knelt down by Dariyen's side. The wounded guardsmen was no longer moving. Leaning close, she plucked a dagger from the alley floor.

  “What are you doing?” Marcus asked, fearing the worst.

  The woman simply raised her hand to silence him and raised the dagger to Dariyen's lips. She held it there for a moment before raising it in front of her eyes. Seeing the light fog on the blade, she answered, “He is breathing, but barely. Watch the alleyway and ensure they do not return. If I do not help him now he will die. Do you understand?”

  Marcus regathered enough of his wits to answer. “Yes, of course.”

  The woman placed both hands over the wound and closed her eyes. Her mouth began to move but no sound escaped her lips. Marcus watched intently, unable to take his eyes off the woman. Her hands glowed once more, and this time a warm golden light filled the alleyway.

  Realizing the reason behind her injunction, Marcus quickly scanned the alleyway. There was no sight of anyone approaching. The thieves still littering the alleyway were either dead or pretending to be, unwilling to draw the destructive ire of the mysterious woman.

  After several long moments the woman stopped and lifted Dariyen’s tunic. There was blood everywhere but the wound itself was gone. The skin was unbroken, and there wasn't even a scar where the dagger had pierced his chest.

  “How is that possible?” Marcus asked in disbelief.

  “Magic,” The woman replied. “When arcane energy is channeled carefully it can commune with the energy within a person and augment the body's natural healing process. In cases like his, the magic itself supplies the energy his soul is lacking. He is lucky to still be with us.”

  “Who are you?” Marcus asked incredulously.

  The woman stood up and offered her hand, “You may call me Elaina.” Then she looked down and realized her hand was still covered in blood. “Oh I'm sorry,” she stammered, suddenly nervous as she began trying to wipe her hands on her blue dress, ruining it completely.

  Marcus looked at the woman before him. The blue dress, the billowing black hair. “I know you—you're the woman from Greensbrook. I saw you in the forest!”

  “I don't know what you are talking about,” the woman answered firmly.

  “I do—I didn't see your face then, but I saw you in that dress. I'll never forget it.”

  “I. . .”

  “You saved us all. The wind, the rain, the forest fire died before it reached us. That was you, wasn't it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “The winds were too strong. If I hadn't intervened you would have all died. I couldn't watch you all die for nothing.”

  “But how did you do that? How did you do this?” Marcus asked pointing to the alleyway around him.

  “That is much harder to explain.”

  “Try me.” Marcus implored, enchanted by the woman before him.

  “It is simply who I am. That's enough about me for the moment Marcus. You will want to be away from this place swiftly. I have witnessed Khazim's handiwork before. He will be none too gentle when he learns what has transpired here. You need to be back inside the safety of the Palace walls when he does.”

  “When the King's Guard learn of this, Khazim's life will be forfeit,” Marcus assured her. “An attempt on the life of a member of a Great House—it is unforgivable. It goes without saying that they will not look kindly on their newest recruit being attacked, either—

  “That might be, Marcus, but you must first make it back alive,” Elaina insisted, cutting him off.

  “What of Dariyen? I won't leave him here,” Marcus replied, equally insistent.

  “He's weak from losing so much blood, and a full recovery will still take some time, but when he wakes he'll be strong enough to walk, at least with your help.” Elaina got up and turned to leave.

  “What about you?”

  “What about me?” Elaina replied.

  “Where are you going?” When the woman didn't reply Marcus pressed, “Come with us.”

  “To the Palace?” Elaina asked. “I don't belong there.”

  “Nonsense,” Marcus replied firmly. “There is a feast today, you don't want to miss it.”

  Elaina hesitated and, drawing courage from her hesitation, Marcus pressed on. “You have saved my life twice now. A warm meal is the least I can do.”

  Elaina relented. “Very well. I guess I could stay, but just for tonight.” Elaina knew she had become too preoccupied with Valaar of late and had begun to neglect her role as Guardian.

  “Then it's settled. You'll not regret it—the Midsommer's feast is a spectacle to behold.”

  Reaching down, Marcus grabbed Dariyen by the bel
t, and draping Dariyen's arm over his shoulder, he hoisted his still-unconscious friend to his feet.

  “If you can carry him, I'll ensure no one else gets in our way.” Elaina promised.

  Marcus nodded and followed the bewitching woman as she led the way out of the alleyway and back onto the cliff road.

  Citizens gave the blood-spattered party a wide berth and the unlikely trio made their way back to the Palace without further incident. When they reached the Palace they were swarmed by the King's Guard, and when they had scarcely entered the Hall they were set upon by Ajers, the Palace Chamberlain.

  “Where have you two been? Were my instructions not clear enough? You were to remain in the Great Hall until such time as the preparations were complete. Now your clothes have been delivered to your rooms but I find you have been gallivanting across the city. The Gods only know what you were up to—now you are back, covered in filth. What do you have to say for yourself?” Ajers stepped closer and examined them more closely. “Marcus, what have you done with the Champion? Is he drunk?” The chamberlain fussed about Dariyen, who was barely conscious and supported almost entirely by the struggling heir to the house of Listar. “It just won't do, and what is this he's covered in?” Ajers demanded as he fussed about.

  “Blood.” Marcus answered. “Mostly his, though some of it was donated by some thugs at the Docks.”

  “The Docks?” Ajers exclaimed, recoiling as if he'd been stung. “This won't do at all.” The chamberlain stepped back to keep his distance from the group who stood before him. Ajers was notoriously fastidious, his appearance immaculate at all times. Not a strand of hair was out of place; his boots shone with a mirror luster. His attention to detail was one of the foremost reasons he had been assigned to his post. He also had an almost paranoid fear of the city beyond the confines of the Palace.

  The chamberlain drew a bell from his belt and rang it vigorously. Almost immediately a cluster of Palace staff appeared. “Take this one upstairs and see that he is cleaned up and presentable for the banquet. He'll need a bath—it just won't do to be found in polite company smelling like that.” The staff descended and relieved Marcus of the weight of the injured Champion before unceremoniously carrying him out of the room.

  “And you, young man. I would expect better of you. This isn't your first trip to the Palace now, is it?” Ajers asked condescendingly.

  “That's enough, Ajers,” a firm voice called from the entryway. “That's my son you are speaking to, not a member of your staff. You will accord him the respect due to one of his station, after all. He will one day be the head of a Great House. Am I understood?” Amarisa, Lady of the Listarii swept gracefully into the room.

  “My lady,” Ajers answered, bowing deeply, embarrassed to have been caught in such a grievous breach of etiquette. “I apologize most earnestly—no disrespect was meant. You know I have nothing but the utmost respect for you and your house. Your late husband was a great man and I counted him a dear friend. I would never wish to offend you, nor your son. Forgive me. The preparations have me in a most frenzied state.”

  “Forgiven, Ajers, of course. Your heart as always is ever in the right place, but you attend to the feast, and leave the matter of chastising my son to me. I assure you he will not escape unpunished . . .” The lady labored the final words deliberately, leaving no misapprehensions in the chamberlain’s mind.

  “As you wish, my lady. I will return to my preparations at once. If you have any needs whatsoever, please don't hesitate to send for me. Jacques will be in the hall if you need anything at all.” The chamberlain affected another impossibly low bow and hurried from the room. As soon as the door closed, his barked orders could be heard as he swept through the hall unleashing a hail of instructions on the Palace staff.

  Marcus looked at his mother. “Look, Mother, I can explain.”

  “Explain what, exactly, Marcus? How you were wandering about in the city without a guard, or the fact that you ignored Ajers’s directions? Or is it why you've returned covered in blood with this street woman?”

  “A street what?” Elaina demanded angrily.

  “Don't speak in my presence, child,” Amarisa answered firmly. “I am talking to my son. I'll get to you later.”

  Elaina paid her no heed. Bearing down on the Lady of the Listarii, she spoke swiftly. “Do not call me a child, either. Among my people I've been considered of age since before you were a gleam in your father's eye.”

  Both Marcus and Amarisa looked in confusion on the woman before them.

  Continuing, Elaina's voice took on a sharp edge. “I can excuse your ignorance but I will not continue to bear such disrespect when it is your gratitude that I deserve. Twice now I've saved your son's life. That number pales in comparison to the number of times I've interceded on your behalf, or that of your people. Do not continue to insult me so, or you will find that next time you call for me in desperation, I will not be there.”

  The Lady Listar raised an eyebrow as she endured the tongue lashing. When the indignant young woman in the blue dress had finished her tirade. Amarisa took on a very different tone. “Marcus, take yourself to your quarters and clean yourself up. I need to have a chat with your new friend.”

  “But mother—”

  “Don't ‘but mother me’—do as you’re told. We will speak further when you have done so.”

  Marcus reluctantly headed for the door. Opening it, he turned to Elaina and mouthed the words, “I'm sorry.”

  “Go!” Amarisa commanded. “She will be here when you return.” At that the young Marcus took heart and departed.

  When the door closed Amarisa turned on Elaina. “Who are you, and what are you doing here with my son?”

  “Like I said before, I saved his life.” Elaina replied.

  “Yes you did, but how and why? You also haven't answered my first question. Who are you?” Amarisa asked.

  “I am Elaina.”

  “Elaina who?” Amarisa interrogated.

  “Just Elaina. My people have never put the same stock in names as yours do.”

  “Who are your people? From the look of you I would say Mizumura—the dark hair and your skin make it the most likely choice.”

  Elaina laughed. “Perhaps, but incorrect nevertheless. My home is much further abroad.”

  “Across the Boundless Sea?” Amarisa continued patiently.

  “Across the Sea of Stars,” Elaina responded cryptically and was rewarded with a confused expression. “Even if you understood, suffice it to say you would not believe me. So why bother? I don't need to prove myself to you.”

  “You do, if you wish to continue spending time with my son.” Amarisa asserted.

  Elaina recoiled and relented—she could understand the woman's desire to protect her son. “What do you wish to know?”

  “As I said before, how and why?”

  “How and why, what?” Elaina asked.

  “You show up here covered in blood. You say you saved my son's life. How and why?”

  “I don't see how it matters,” Elaina replied.

  “On the contrary, it is all that matters, Elaina. One may do the right thing for the wrong reason. Or the right thing for the wrong reason. That boy is all I have left in the world. I would do anything to assure his safety. How and why did you help him?”

  “Because he is different,” Elaina replied. “There is a goodness in him. I couldn't watch him die.”

  “How did you do it?” Amarisa asked. “Are you a warrior?”

  Elaina held her hands apart in the air before her. Channeling the power that coursed within her, Elaina conjured the same energy she had manifested earlier in the alleyway. The bolt of lightning exploded out of her left hand, arcing to her right, where it dissipated as she absorbed its energy once more, watching Amarisa the entire time. The Matron of the Listarii was spellbound.

  “That is how. There were almost a dozen miscreants in the alleyway when I arrived. Dariyen was dying and Marcus was soon to follow. I intervened. After
the first five died the others fled.”

  Amarisa nodded slowly as she absorbed every word. After a moment of quiet reflection she looked at Elaina intently.

  “Do you love him?”

  “Pardon me?” Elaina stammered nervously.

  “I asked, do you love him? My son, Marcus. Do you love him?”

  “I don't know,” Elaina answered a little embarrassed.

  “How can you not know? By your own admission you killed five men to save his life. How can you not know?”

  “Six, and I don't know because I have never been in love before,” Elaina responded quietly. The words bothered her as soon as she realized the sad truth of them.

  “You are honest, at least, and that is good enough for me. At least for the moment. I would suggest you have a better answer for Marcus when the time comes. Now come. We have much to do.”

  “What do you mean?” Elaina asked.

  “My dear, there is going to be a feast. If you are to accompany Marcus, you cannot do so like this. It won't do at all. You've met Ajers—the poor man will die if you show up dressed like that.”

  “I don't have anything else to wear.” Elaina protested.

  “Ah then it's a good thing that we are in a palace, then isn't it?” the lady replied. Turning to the door she called loudly, “Jacques, come in. We have someone who urgently needs your attention.”

  As the door opened Amarisa threw her arm around Elaina and escorted her to the door. “Come dear, we have a great deal to discuss.”

  Six

  Marcus fidgeted nervously while he waited to be admitted to the Great Hall. He had not seen his mother, nor Elaina, since he had been dispatched to get ready for the evening's festivities. When he returned neither of the women was present. I'm not sure whether that is a good sign or bad one, Marcus thought. His mother had always been protective of him. When his father had died those protective tendencies had intensified; sometimes it felt reassuring but at other times it was smothering.