Aster Wood series Box Set

by J B Cantwell

  This was it. She was going to kill me. I stood up quickly, and the room reeled around me. I stumbled over to the tall table, my hands fumbling with the fabric covering the gold.

  A flash of power hit me from behind, and I flew across the room. I hit the floor hard, smacking my hands against the cold tile so hard they stung.

  I could do it. The gold was more important than the book. I could still get it. I rose up and ran for the table again.

  Again I was thrust into the air, hit the wall this time and landed on my stomach. My cheek pressed up against the unforgiving mosaic. Behind me I heard Jade’s footsteps, and then felt the searing pain of my hair being ripped away as she lifted my head with it.

  “That’s enough, I think,” she said.

  Something shiny on the floor caught my attention, and I stared at it for a moment, confusion and recognition battling for within me. She dropped my head back to the ground and my temple smacked the floor, sending a wave of misery through my skull and down my back.

  She laughed, walking away.

  “Get him up,” she said to Owyn dismissively.

  I crawled towards the shining object. In the instant before my head hit the ground again, I had recognized it.

  The chaser.

  Owyn’s heavy footfalls approached me as I tried to wriggle away, and at the last moment before he reached me, I flipped onto my back, shooting my hand out and gripping onto the chaser.

  He seemed not to notice my thievery. His own eyes were battling between black and brown.

  “Why?” I asked. “At least tell me why. You don’t need to kill me.”

  “Oh, but I do,” she said from across the room. “The knowledge to destroy my master lay in only two places: the Book of Leveling, and you. With your death, the power to defeat him will be lost forever.”

  My insides hurt, not from the pain of the blows I had taken, but from the worry that the words she spoke were true. But a memory tickled at the back of my throbbing brain, teasing me, willing me to remember. An image of Kiron’s face floated before me. Kiron, smiling, as he held up a long feather quill and a ream of parchment propped up against the Book of Leveling.

  Hope flared inside my chest.

  Owyn stood over me, his staff held high above his head.

  I couldn’t die now. Not now that Jade had let his secret slip. The Corentin thought I was the only one who knew what was in the Book, the only one with the knowledge of what needed to be done to balance the Fold.

  And I wasn’t about to let some slave of his end my life.

  I smiled up at Owyn, and his face fell for a moment, perplexed by my odd reaction. Without a plan or knowledge of what would happen or any intention other than to break away, I took my one free hand and gripped hard onto the base of his wooden staff.

  Power exploded from the wood, and it felt stuck to my hand as if someone had welded it into place. The walls of the castle burst out, the glass in the hundreds of tiny windows shattering with the force of the blow.

  Dust filled my eyes and nostrils as chunks of rubble settled around the room. Jade was instantly upright, throwing the rocks that had landed on her off as though they were nothing more than the lightest feathers. A moan came from the other side of the room, where Owyn lay in a heap. The fire was snuffed out by the wind of the spell, but I didn’t go for the Book. I didn’t need the book, not anymore.

  It was the gold I needed.

  We went for it at the same time. But before either of us reached the table, Jade’s arms rose above her head, and I was struck with the force of every piece of rock dust that still remained in the air. It knocked me backward, and I sprawled out onto the floor, the staff still strangely stuck to my palm as though it had been glued in place there.

  She snatched the gold and turned away, seeking a place to hide it within the rubble of the once magnificent room.

  And just like that it was over. With the gold in her hands, I knew I would be dead before I hit the floor one last time.

  I scrambled up and ran for the door.

  But before I could make it, something large and heavy slammed into me.

  “Oh, no you don’t,” Owyn growled into my ear. Blood trickled from a gash in his forehead, making him look as if he had just taken a shower in it. “That staff belongs to me.”

  But it didn’t. Not anymore. I gripped it tightly.

  Suddenly, Owyn’s hands could not hold me. Like two magnets opposing one another, every time he grabbed for me, he was pushed away.

  “Jade!” he yelled, panicked.

  Jade had become still. She stood across the room, her back to us, her head bowed over the gold.

  Then she turned, and the room exploded with her power. My back hit the wall. I held onto consciousness with everything I had.

  Owyn had hit the ground, at first, I thought, to take cover. But his eyes stared wide and his body was still. My jaw dropped as I realized what had happened.

  “No!” Jade screamed, her arms outstretched as she ran for him.

  With acid in my stomach, I fled.

  Through the castle corridors, down the long, winding staircase.

  Owyn.

  Lost.

  By the time Jade had regained her head, I was at the bottom step, sprinting for the passageway back out to the mountainside. The first blow she sent at me struck the banister, knocking the large, ornamental sculpture from the handrail. The second hit an inch behind my foot as I ran back into the tunnel. The third, fourth and fifth were out of range, the bits of castle they destroyed merely echoing behind me as they exploded with the force of her anger.

  In my fist, the wood staff glowed. It was automatic. It required no thought, no concentration. My only goal was to get out, and the wood easily lent its power to the task.

  Rocks started flying past my head, and I realized she was inside the tunnel with me.

  I burst out of the mountain like a bullet from a gun, careening down the side, searching for anywhere I could hide.

  Behind me, I heard breathing. Footsteps. And suddenly the light from the staff was no longer the light that lit my path.

  I dared to glance back, and nearly lost my footing.

  A foot behind me, running in time with my frantic feet, were four feet.

  Panic overtook me, and I pushed harder. His fangs were so immediate, so huge. The great cat ran effortlessly, taking care to keep close to my side. I ran faster, but I could not escape him. Mad thoughts raced through my head, unable to separate logic from fear.

  She sent it.

  It’s glowing.

  It will devour me.

  It will save me.

  I shook my head, trying to clear it, trying to decide if I needed to run from it, too. But the shaking only brought about a new wave of throbbing pain. No clarity.

  On the mountainside above, a trickle of rocks began to fall. In another moment it was a cascade. Then a full-blown avalanche trailed behind us.

  She was bringing the mountain down. She would destroy it all if it meant crushing me.

  The panther kept stride with me easily, its great eyeball seeming to pierce through me. It moved closer. I tried to move away, but it held me in its gaze and wouldn’t let go. It bowed its head as it ran, pushing its white, silky fur beneath my arm.

  It could be the end. Of me. Of everything.

  Behind us, the crash of granite pounded down.

  It could be death, no matter what choice I made.

  I put a hand on its neck, thick and warm. Gripping hard, I swung my leg over until I sat astride it. It burst with speed, jetting down the mountain faster than any boulder could ever follow. Faster than wind. Faster than sound. Faster than Jade’s rage.

  And we were away.

  Chapter 14

  I buried my face in the deep, glowing fur of my savior as he sprinted across the valley. My breathing began to steady as the truth sunk in, that the White Guard had come for me again. My heart thudded in my chest, but no longer with fear.

  It was with excitement
.

  Half the mountain behind us was gone, still tumbling after us in a mass of chaos and destruction. She must have seen us go, must have been furious that I had escaped her. But she couldn’t catch us now.

  Soon, the panther had crested the hill tops on the far side of the valley. He didn’t stop to rest, and I don’t think he would have needed to had we had the time. His breath was even and strong, his giant padded feet confident and true.

  For a moment that seemed to last hours, I felt free. My commitments, my fear, my guilt at leaving Jade behind, even the pain in my head, all faded away with the thrill of the ride. Like a plug in a socket, I was suddenly connected me to this world. To all worlds.

  As the cat slowed, the feeling faded. But when the difficulties of my path returned to mind, they were less terrifying than before.

  We approached a small pond, shining in the light of Aria’s moon, which had finally risen over the horizon. He lowered his head to drink, and I slipped from his back, almost losing my footing on wobbly legs. I steadied myself against his side, feeling the breath move steadily in and out of his giant body, nearly the size of a horse.

  When he finished drinking, he stood beside me, fixing his gaze over the next group of hills.

  But I wasn’t ready to go.

  I stared into his face, into big, calm eyes the color of glacial seas.

  “Are you him?” I asked, rubbing his neck with both hands. “Is it possible that you’re still alive after all this time?”

  Zacharias’s story of Sacha and Pahana had been myth to everyone who had heard it. Everyone but me.

  The cat lowered his head, butting me in the chest. The force behind this simple movement knocked me back a few steps, and I laughed. I wrapped my arms around his thick, mottled neck and rested my head against him.

  He was my defender. Incorruptible. Pure and permanent.

  But we couldn’t stay here forever, as much as I would have loved to stretch out beneath that giant moon and soak in the light.

  Once he got going, his pace was easy, no longer flying from attack. I might even be able to keep stride with him if I had tried, but I had no desire to. My White Guard companions never seemed to stick around for very long, and I didn’t want to waste a single second of the time I had with the panther. So I rode into the night, cradled within his power, protected.

  Hours passed. I became transfixed by the sound of his breath. After a time, it didn’t sound like breathing at all, but song. So I relaxed onto his neck and let his tune rock me until my troubles had once again dimmed, and I felt renewed.

  As morning broke, the panther’s feet splashed into bog. Around us the land was vibrant with plant life. Flowers spread out along every surface, lying on thick beds of moss that floated on the water. Each step he took sunk us deeper into the swamp, and soon he was swimming in earnest. I held onto his neck, suddenly worried about what may lie in the depths below us. But while his swimming didn’t rival the speed of his run, we were across the water in a few short minutes, slipping into hiding between the trees. Swamp mud fell from his coat as if repelled by each individual hair, leaving him as radiant as if he had never set foot in the muck. I had no such luck, and as he made his way through the trees, I peeled the slimy bits of vegetation on my clothes away that the water had left behind.

  He walked slowly now, stepping over fallen logs and bypassing deep pits of mud, carefully keeping us above the waterline. Here, I suspected we would be unseen by pretty much anyone. If a creature so elegant and powerful took such care walking through this swamp, no human would be stupid enough to try it.

  I was surprised, though, when we rounded a low hill and saw a cottage set into the other side of it. Someone had made themselves a home here, on what was probably the only dry land for twenty miles in any direction. I looked around skeptically at the hanging moss and buzzing insects. Aside from the obvious lack of other humans, I couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to live here.

  Whoever’s place this was wasn’t just living, though. They were hiding.

  We approached the door, and I crouched low on the panther’s back, suddenly worried about who might be inside. I wasn’t ready to be around people yet, and my break from the reality of these worlds had seemed painfully short.

  But the ride was over. He stopped at the threshold to the tiny house and turned his head back to look at me. I stayed put, for a moment reasoning that maybe if I just refused to get off, he’d take me with him to wherever he was headed next. But his feet stayed stubbornly planted, and I relented, sliding from his back.

  I knew he was going.

  “I don’t want you to,” I said, as though he had actually spoken his goodbye.

  He nuzzled me again, this time taking greater care not to knock me backward. The glow coming off his fur lit up the entire clearing as if he had harnessed the moon, still peeking through the brightening morning, and pulled it down from the sky. I wrapped both arms around his giant head and put my face down between his ears. His long, slow breathing seemed to permeate through my skin, and my own slowed.

  When he finally turned and walked out of from under the canopy, I wanted to wail in agony at his departure. But while I felt sorrow at being left alone so soon after my rescue, a tiny bead of hope swirled in my chest. I would see him again. Or, if not him, another of the Guard. It wasn’t goodbye forever. For the first time, I understood that.

  Finally, when all glow that didn’t come from the rising sun had faded away, and the distant sounds of his splashing as he retreated had finally silenced, I turned to the door.

  The wood was porous, soft to the touch, covered in a sheath of moss. The house was tiny, and hanging from almost every surface was some sort of plant. Vines wove a blanket over the roof, twirling into braids as they met again with the swampy ground. I raised my fist and knocked.

  Nobody came.

  The safety I felt from the closeness of Pahana was slowly seeping out of me. Insects sang loudly in the undergrowth, and one buzzed by my ear. I swatted at it, alarmed, sending a new wave of throbbing through my skull. I gripped the sides of my head and found that the bleeding had stopped, replaced now by a long, jagged scab where the blood had trickled down. The insect buzzed again, and my thoughts quickly turning to stingers and wings. Backing up, I ran into a bush heavy with flowers the size of basketballs. They gave off a sickly sweet scent that made my mouth water. I peered into one, hoping that there might be a sweet drink of nectar waiting for me. Using both hands, I gently opened the delicate petals. But when they pushed back against my effort, refusing to be opened, I yelped and stumbled backward, hitting the ground hard in my surprise.

  Suddenly, the world around me seemed at once threatening and fascinating. Everything in the Triaden felt, and was, more alive than on Earth. But here, where the branches hung low, draping their foliage in wide sheets, and flowers of enormous size defended against attack, here the plants pulsed with energy. The heartbeat of this world seemed to bubble up through the marsh, spreading its power and its own strange awareness from its core to the leaf.

  I couldn’t decide whether or not to be terrified. I pushed my body backwards, away from the little house, and onto a small patch of dry land, panting.

  I sat.

  And I watched.

  And once I was still, the place began to awaken in earnest. The trees and plants and bugs forgot my presence gradually. First, the giant flowers on the bush beside the house began to relax, their petals unclenching and then slowly reaching out, as a human might stretch after sitting for a long time. Then came the trees. Each twig, each leaf slowly began pulsing, shy curls of light coming to life along the branches. The moss lengthened until it touched the ground, the tendrils slithering like tiny snakes as they sought water. The insects came out in full force, no longer afraid and, I was relieved to find, not interested in stinging. The sun, now fully up, snuck into the dark places through the canopy overhead, sending its soft shafts of light through to the swamp floor, cascading down to the ground from
above like a slowly flowing waterfall.

  My breathing calmed, and I relaxed just as the swamp did. I could see why this person, whoever he was, would want to live here. Because, though I had been frightened at first, now that I had calmed down I felt as protected as a child in his mother’s arms. I was hidden from everything here, every person that wanted me dead, or to use me, or to simply get me out of the way.

  Owyn had made the mistake of pursuing the Corentin, of trying to help even though the stakes were so high and his chances so low. And then he had been used like a puppet, fooling everyone into believing his intentions were still good, even after the Corentin had taken over his mind.

  I looked down at the staff. I had held it once before, felt coursing through me the power that radiated from the wood. And yet even with such a weapon, Owyn had fallen easily into Jade’s trap. I had taken the staff from Owyn with almost no effort. It seemed that the tool had no allegiance to him, or if it once did, the bond had been broken. It hadn’t been enough to allow him to resist the grip of evil that had come for him.

  It lay now, lifeless on the ground, cut from its roots long ago, no longer able to pull power from the soil on its own, not even here. I stretched my fingers towards it and, as they hovered an inch over the base, could feel it calling out to me. Like a song sung in a language so ancient that none could ever translate it to human speech. It rang with truth, desire. And power.

  I grasped it into my open fist and immediately felt its warmth rush up my arm and into my chest. I stood up, the movement nearly effortless with the staff in my grip. Was this what it felt like to have power? I looked down at my arms, surprised when they didn’t visibly glow. A surge of strength, thrilling and breathtaking, bloomed over every inch of my body. I could understand how a person could get lost in this. Owyn. Jade. And long ago, Jared.

  I was suddenly frightened, and I dropped the staff back to the ground. It clung to my open palm for a moment, sticking to it as if glued, and then fell to the ground.

  I didn’t want to be like any of them, a slave to my own power, making all the wrong decisions just so I could get more and more. I stepped away from the wood, which lay lifeless in the moss. It needed my touch, it seemed, to come alive.