Demons of the Hunter (War of the Magi Book 2)

by Stephen Allan

  “There is more bread in the kitchen,” she said. “Take some. As much as you want. We do not leave for another ten minutes.”

  Eric didn’t need to be told that again. He found the loaf of bread inside and brought it all out. Artemia took some pieces and Eric took some pieces, and the two ate in silence, Artemia continuing to hum the song Eric still did not recognize. It was upbeat and had a bit fast tempo, a surprising tune for this early in the morning. He could never recall a time when she hummed. She either enjoyed taunting Eric without his mentor there, or she was so excited about something that she could not break free of the feeling enveloping her. It left Eric curious and a little unsettled.

  Nevertheless, Eric just felt happy that he could eat all the bread that the house had provided.

  Finally, the bread was gone, and each hunter swallowed the last of their water. Eric once more placed his cup firmly on the table, but Artemia leaned back casually. She even closed her eyes. Was she about to take a nap?

  What in the name of Hydor is going on?

  “The song is called Marching Into Victory,” she said, her eyes still closed. “I used to hum it before every battle. I figure, why break from tradition?”

  Really? That… I don’t think that’s true. You didn’t hum it before Indica.

  “Do you sing it, ever?”

  “No,” Artemia said. “I do not have the voice of the heavens. I barely have the voice of the town, let alone the world. I know better than to reveal my lack of talent.”

  There was something off-putting that created a gut reaction of distaste for what Artemia had said, but Eric couldn’t place it. Something about not wanting to appear weak. Or maybe after last night, he was looking for reasons to distrust and despise his superior.

  “Are you ready to go?”

  Eric had been ready. He said yes, but in his mind, he felt like he was getting worn down by the mind games Artemia seemed to be playing.

  “You seem rushed.”

  “I, well, I thought we were leaving this morning.”

  “And we are,” Artemia said. “But moving quickly and rushing are two different things. You are rushing. We must move quickly. Relax. When you have the chance to breathe, to stay calm, and to be peaceful, take it. You do not need to remain in a state of alertness and hyperactivity at all times. We have at least twenty days of traveling ahead; do you think sprinting out the door will get us there in two? The difference of us leaving early but rushed and us leaving later but prepared is significant, and not in favor of the former.”

  Eric tried to take her advice. At first, he just leaned back on the couch, his hands folded in his lap. He thought about the trials ahead, and what monsters they might encounter. Would Ragnor be alone? Would he rise to face them? Or would he be as weak as Indica was—relatively speaking, of course?

  He closed his eyes. The journey seemed so much more real. He could see the grassy fields. He could see the icy terrain. He could visualize the mountains rising and the dragons inhabiting the land from within. He could imagine coming face to face with Ragnor and challenging him to a duel, only to emerge victorious and claim justice. Your souls would finally know peace. My soul would be free. The demons would vanish.

  He smiled. He ignored the nagging thoughts about how he stood no chance against the creature. He ignored the ominous voice that told him his dreams foretold of his death.

  “It is time,” Artemia said.

  As quickly as he had woken up, Eric opened his eyes, lurched forward, and stood.

  “You’re getting the right idea,” Artemia said. “I know I have taught this to you before. But given the emotional weight of this journey for you, it is more important than ever to remember the lessons of the guild and what we have taught you. Do you understand?”

  Eric nodded, and it was a sincere nod. He understood now why Artemia had acted as she had. It was why she had slowed down the morning to a new crawl. Not because she needed it. But because Eric had.

  Artemia motioned to the door, and the two hunters left their temporary home, the last night in which they would get to sleep in a home and be relatively without danger for at least a week, if not for the rest of their short lives.

  “There is a gate on the south side of the city that is open at all times,” Artemia said as they moved through the streets. “The empire had once installed it to keep track of visitors, but they have given up that post in recent times. I’m sure they’ll return, but for now, it is our quickest way out of here.”

  Eric, his supplies slung over his shoulder and his sword on his hip, moved in silence. Artemia would not be one for small talk. In fact, Eric could easily imagine himself not speaking more than a couple of sentences a day for the next month.

  He didn’t mind. He had to focus on the task at hand. Now, more than ever, focus, motivation, and his cause mattered far more than whatever sounds came from his throat.

  They reached the south gate. A single mage stood at the gate, their arms folded. He looked far too old to guard the gate, but Eric supposed someone—

  A man in the corner caught in his eye.

  Abe. Abe!

  He glanced over at his former mentor, wearing the robes of a magi over his normal hunter’s uniform. He had a sad smile on his face and a finger to his lips. Eric understood—they could not communicate, not as long as Artemia stood watch.

  But even still, he couldn’t help the sad smile that came to him. They’d hunted together for six years and known each other for longer than that. Everything Eric knew, not just in hunting, but essentially in life, Abe had played a role in teaching. Abe kept him in line whenever he wanted to beat the snot out of Tyus or lose himself to his emotions. Abe balanced him out as a boy.

  But I’m a man now. Time to act like it.

  Eric simply gave a curt nod. It was all he could do. Abe returned the nod back, and then disappeared into an alleyway, vanishing from view, possibly forever.

  No. Not forever. I’ll see you again, Abe.

  Artemia didn’t say anything as she continued to walk forward. When they reached the gate, an older actual mage waited, sporting a long white beard, narrow eyes, and wrinkled hands. The elder mage held a hand up and Artemia looked at him, amused.

  “Can I help you?” Artemia said.

  “You wish to destroy Ragnor,” the man said. His voice sounded sure, if not in line with his age. “But the town does not wish you to do so.”

  “It doesn’t seem very interested in backing up that sentiment,” Artemia said. “Unless you’re going to stop us.”

  The old man let out a short laugh.

  “This won’t be the first time I’ve encouraged the youth of Hydor to rebel against the wishes of Dabira,” he said. “No, I have no intentions of stopping you. In fact, I wish to follow you, if you will allow me to come. I am Romarus, an elder mage here, practiced in the ways of fire and ice magic as well as increasing your internal skills. I pushed a young girl and a young couple to go to Caia to fight Indica when the council would not allow them to leave. And now, I want to join you on the trail.”

  The more help we can get, the better, Eric thought. He had some small suspicion of a trap, but that didn’t seem right. The magi opposed their decision, but with words, not violence.

  “And why would you join us but not the children you sent to Indica?” Artemia asked.

  The old man cleared his throat, moving deliberately, his hand going to his lips, then back down slowly. He moved with even less pace than Artemia had back in their lodging.

  “I had hoped that the victory over Indica would show the town that their belief in legend does not match the action of the warrior. I had hoped that this would encourage us to join our brothers and sisters in Caia. But instead, it seems that the town has doubled down on itself. I fear that Dabira courts extinction without even realizing it. It fears Ragnor as if he is a god, but there is no such thing as an indestructible god. Only a difficult enemy whose legend is inflated. I am an old man, on my last legs, surely dead within the
next year or so regardless of my actions and wishes. But I am not an old man who will go down without fighting, and you two are the only ones here willing to fight.”

  Eric couldn’t see a reason why they wouldn’t take this Romarus. In some ways, he might even be more useful than Abe. As much as Eric hated admitting that, Abe didn’t know magic. Romarus said he did. On a journey like this, pure physical skill would not suffice. Magic had to come, and he didn’t think Artemia would give enough.

  “We’re not going to slow down for you, let’s make that clear,” Artemia said. “If you can keep up, you can come. But if you fall behind, we’re not going to rescue you.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about that,” Romarus said. “Magic can make even the creakiest of legs move like the wings of a dragon.”

  “Then start using those legs and let’s go.”

  Artemia didn’t even wait for confirmation from Romarus. She didn’t take a moment to look back on the city. Eric didn’t have a chance to appreciate one last time what Dabira had to offer. Artemia never indulged in nostalgia, and she wasn’t about to start now.

  Romarus stayed true to his word as he kept pace with the hunters, though with their determined but steady stroll, that didn’t make for a difficult task. He never sounded out of breath, nor did he slow down. In fact, when they came to the river, he swam first, leaving Artemia and Eric to evaluate the current and stream.

  The river had a stronger current than Eric had anticipated. In fact, when he reached halfway across, his sword came unclipped, and he hurriedly swam downstream while he held it with his right hand. Just my luck that the water would try to take my weapon before I could use it on anything else, let alone Ragnor. He had to break off from Artemia and Romarus, who by now had made it to shore.

  About fifty feet away from the shore, he felt something bump into his leg.

  “I wonder what demons we have unlocked for slaughtering Indica.”

  The words of Abe came back to Eric. He continued swimming, but when his head ducked underwater, he kept his eyes open, looking for the sun to shed some light on whatever monstrosity had awoken with the death of Indica.

  He felt a bump again.

  This time, he paused, pushing his sword underwater. It never made contact with anything, and Eric could hear Artemia yelling at him to hurry up. Frustrated, he pushed ahead.

  He didn’t again get bumped.

  But he felt sure, now more than ever, that by defeating one dragon, they’d unlocked a whole horde of demons on the road ahead. And that was to say nothing about the monster Artemia was turning into with every passing action.

  * * *

  Eric knew what three weeks felt like. He knew what long journeys could do to the body and to the mind.

  But even still, when dusk settled on that first night, and the landscape had not changed at all, he began to wonder how quickly he’d become impatient.

  Romarus, Roland, all of the magi had warned Eric and Artemia that the monsters would become more deadly. The vegetation would become more dangerous. The terrain would become less forgiving.

  But so far, aside from the expected dragon sightings, it all looked the same.

  Once the sun dipped beneath the horizon, Artemia held her hand up.

  “We stay the night, taking turns on watch to make sure no predators come to us,” she said. “I’ll go first. Eric, you will go next. Romarus, finish.”

  “No.”

  Eric froze. He looked straight to Artemia, whose smile somehow seemed to broaden. What did she plan to do?

  “You two need rest. I have slept plenty in my life. I do not need an extra few hours of sleep when death will give me more soon.”

  Artemia registered surprise on her face, then gave a short chuckle.

  “Is this what your internal magic can do?”

  “Among other things,” Romarus said. “I could stay alive for quite some time if I wanted to, though my impact would not be as great as others who have used such magic. No, you two will need rest. I will hunt for my own food.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Eric said suddenly.

  He knew why he said it. He’d gotten desperate to get a moment away from Artemia. Her power, her drive, her unforgiving nature had become suffocating, to say nothing of the fact that he felt censored around her. Even if Romarus wouldn’t do so much as thank him for any help on the hunt, he at least would not have to censor himself around the elder.

  “I’d rather save my rations if I can,” Eric added, trying to quell any suspicions from Artemia. “We don’t know if there will be game we can hunt further down.”

  “You make your own decisions, Eric,” Artemia said. Left unsaid is that you’ll carry on without either of us. So what do you care about how we do?

  Eric at least gave a grateful nod, his way of trying to stave off conflict, and walked with Romarus east toward the mountains. He followed the mage toward a wild boar about five hundred feet away, visible but probably not yet in attacking range yet.

  “Thanks for coming,” Eric said. “I don’t know that I would’ve survived with just Artemia. She’s not exactly the inquisitive or loquacious type.”

  “I have noticed,” Romarus said.

  A pause came from him as he stared straight ahead, appearing to consider his next words carefully. Eric used the chance to examine the boar. If they killed it properly, it could supply meat for a good couple of days.

  “Were there not three of you?”

  He must have been at that meeting. He must have seen.

  “At the start, yes,” Eric said. “But my mentor said he couldn’t fight in the good graces of the mission.”

  “And why is that?”

  Am I about to undercut Artemia here? Are we about to be down to two hunters and no magi?

  Tell the truth, Eric. Everyone needs all the truth they can to determine their course of action.

  “He felt that Artemia’s actions were for her own gain, so that she could gather enough power to overthrow the emperor. He thought she didn’t care about peace.”

  “And do you believe him?”

  The question Eric had tried to ignore for quite some time could not be avoided.

  “I don’t disbelieve him.”

  Romarus laughed, not bothering to quiet his laughter in case Artemia heard. In fact, Romarus laughed so hard, Dabira probably heard him. Eric wondered how the townsfolk saw Romarus and felt about his departure. Was the city panicking? Or was he always the one with the off-kilter mind?

  “The woman that you follow fashions herself as a future goddess,” Romarus said. “Or she would have you believe that she will be one, at least. I can see it in her eyes.”

  “And does that bother you?” Eric asked.

  “Bother? No. Many a narcissist and young person wants to be seen as a deity. Even if they reach such heights, the waves of time wash away all the imposters, gods, and legends eventually. I also see in her a skilled, confident warrior who is certain of her mission to defeat Ragnor. I did not follow the wonderfully talented young magi who helped defeat Indica out of fear of my age and, as I said, out of hope that Dabira would link up with those in Caia. I will follow the one who knows what she wants.”

  He pulled out a bow and arrow from underneath his robes and nocked an arrow as Eric watched intently. Whatever age this man was, it did not affect his dexterity.

  “And now, let us eat dinner,” he said as the arrow flung through the air, piercing the neck of the boar, killing it instantly with magic that flowed through the weapon.

  CHAPTER 11: ZELDA

  Zelda awoke to bright sunlight in her eyes and a figure kneeling over her, their hands crossed over their knee.

  “I’d have passed out too if I used magic like that.”

  The voice of Garo slowly brought her back to her senses. She tried to sit up, but Garo placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, guiding her back down.

  “Rest easy, Zelda. Your teleportation spell will have us safe for quite some time.”

  She didn’
t believe that. The empire was seconds away. At best, she’d given them maybe half an hour of rest. Maybe. And how much of that had she actually spent passed out?

  “Don’t believe me? Look.”

  Zelda tilted her head forward and was shocked to see how close the mountains sectioning off Dabira were. They would still need several days of hiking just to reach the base. But compared to moments before, she couldn’t even fathom how far her teleportation spell had taken them. Perhaps over a hundred miles. Probably over two hundred, actually. It would take the empire’s forces at least a couple of days by horseback to reach them.

  “How?” Zelda said weakly.

  “How? Your survival instincts kicked in a level of magic you had not yet reached,” Garo said. “I am mightily impressed. I have never seen anyone teleport so far—and with three other people! You are truly a magical child, Zelda. Someday, your power may even surpass mine. Actually, it will surpass mine.”

  I don’t know about that. I hope I don’t have to test it.

  Well, that hope’s gone. I know I will. I just hope I can use it for good when the time comes.

  “Stay down for now,” Garo advised. “Yeva and Tetra have gone off to find food. They should return at any moment.”

  Zelda gave a weak nod as her head fell back to the ground. She closed her eyes, letting the sun’s rays wash over her as she thought about all that was said.

  Or tried to, at least. She was so weak and so tired her mind could barely stay on a single subject for more than a few seconds before desire for food and rest came. But at least she had the luxury of time now. If she was as close as her eyes told her, it would take the horses days to reach them and the soldiers far longer.