He held the shield and his eyes squinted with exertion as the pain escaped from the hiding place like an explosion. He struggled fiercely to hammer the pain away and hold the shield. His body was shaking and Myrell moaned with fear as a branch inched toward the movement. Then it stopped suddenly as Jonas again gained control of his mind and body.
Now he prayed to Shyann. He sent his call out and instantly felt that familiar tingle deep in his body. The link to her was tenuous though, as he had to concentrate on the shield and call forth her power at the same time. He was struggling with the new sensation, but eventually he powered through the difficulty, finding the center of her power. The God Fire started in his belly, slowly boiling outward, filling his chest, his limbs, and finally his head. It felt as if the blood inside him was simmering, rising to a boil as the God Fire reached its pinnacle of power.
He purposely kept it controlled, however, bringing more and more power up from his center to fill his body. He knew he would only have one shot at this, and he had to make sure he released enough power to kill the eecaps. The effort took a terrible toll on his mind and body as he tried desperately to contain the power and maintain the shield at the same time.
Everyone in the circle was watching in tense amazement as Jonas struggled with the task. It was painful to watch, for every little movement that Jonas made caused a nearby branch to twitch or convulse in hunger.
He knew he couldn’t move, but his body wanted to drop to its knees and release the power. Fighting back that urge he screamed inside his head. He had to release the power or it would consume him. The last thing he heard before he exploded in God Fire was Allindrian’s soft words.
“You can do it, Jonas,” she whispered. Her words floated towards him, giving him strength. They held up his quivering body just as he let his power explode in a rush of blue flame.
They all closed their eyes as the intense energy engulfed them. The furnace of his God Fire roared around them but they felt very little of its heat. They kept their eyes closed in fear that the magical flames would sear them, and because of that they did not witness the awesome display of power. But they certainly heard, and felt it. It sounded like a hurricane and the heat inside their protective circle slowly increased as the flames continued to coalesce around them.
Jonas stood tall as the hot flames erupted from his body, burning everything around them. The massive explosion created a sphere of fire that shot well past the canopy of branches far into the starless night. He didn’t think of the branches seeking his blood, but only of the sphere that protected his friends. He focused on that one thing only as his fire reached the pinnacle of its power.
Then, as fast as it had erupted, the flames were sucked back down, disappearing into his body. He fell to the ground unconscious.
If he had been awake he would have seen his comrades struggling to get up, some of their clothing singed and smoking, standing in a protected circle surrounded by a charred and decimated forest extending farther than any of them could see.
The two smoldering eecaps were skeletons of their former selves. Nearly all of the limbs were gone; all that remained were burnt and blackened trunks rising over thirty paces into the air. They stood in the center of a wide open hole that had been created in the midst of black and twisted trees.
Everyone ran to Jonas as he lay unconscious on the ground. Their exposed skin and clothes had suffered minor burns from the heat but other than that they were fine. Fil was first at his side, quickly checking to make sure he was still alive.
“His heart beats,” Fil said through a sigh of relief.
“In Bandris’s name I have never felt anything like that,” said Kye, one of the Tarsinian warriors who had traveled with Dandronis when they fled the burning city of Tarsis.
“Nor I,” added an amazed Dandronis.
“We must move now!” Allindrian interrupted, her steady eyes penetrating the darkness of their surroundings. “That explosion will surely bring more predators down upon us.”
“But Jonas is unconscious, maybe injured; we must see to his wounds,” Myrell said heatedly.
“He did not save us just so we can be killed by trysts,” Allindrian replied calmly.
“I will carry him,” announced Kromm. He reached down and lifted Jonas as if he was just a child. “Tie his arms around my neck and I will hold his legs.”
They did as he ordered while Durgen, Dandronis, and Allindrian circled them, guarding their backs. It only took a few moments and finally the king grabbed Jonas’s legs, lifting him off the ground. Jonas hung limply on the king’s broad back.
“Get us out of here,” ordered the king.
Allindrian ran with all speed as the king followed her with long powerful strides. It didn’t take long before they heard the unmistakable screeching of the trysts. They were still a ways away but the frightening and familiar sound felt like it was tapping them on the shoulders. Their previous battle with the creatures was still a terrifying memory, and they wanted nothing more to do with them, especially now that they were reduced in numbers.
So they ran on in desperate silence. Fil, behind the king, was amazed at the man’s strength and endurance. He seemed not to tire, and even with Jonas’s weight on his back his gait was strong and fluid. They kept up the pace for minutes, then hours, and though everyone was feeling increasingly fatigued as the day (or night) wore on, they dared not slow down. The screeching seemed to follow them for some time, but as they ran they seemed to be creating more distance from their pursuers. They knew the trysts could move with lightning speed, but perhaps it was not a pace they could maintain over time. Yet they pushed on, energized by fear, and continued their dangerous flight through the Hallows, trying to keep as silent as possible. They ran on and on until the adrenaline of their flight was exhausted, making them more keenly aware of their tired and sore bodies. Finally, the sound of the hungry trysts disappeared altogether, and Allindrian slowed their pace.
She motioned silently for everyone to stop. The king turned to face them and Fil looked at him in astonishment. He was breathing hard but his eyes still sparkled and his back was straight and strong. Fil was bent over, breathing heavily, and all he wanted to do was lie down and rest.
The others were just as exhausted. Myrell fell to the ground, physically spent and nearly unconscious.
“We’ll rest here for a few hours. I’ll take first watch,” Allindrian stated.
“Someone help me with Jonas,” the king said.
Fil and Dandronis moved to help him remove Jonas from his shoulders. They laid him down gently on the forest floor. The ground was covered with the strange black moss and it was comfortable enough. They were in a small clearing surrounded by the same strange trees and shrubs they had encountered when they first entered the Hallows. Nothing was different, and that alone unnerved them.
King Kromm knelt next to Jonas, checking to make sure his heart still beat.
“How is he?” Myrell asked with concern, moving next to him. She gently laid her hand on his forehead, absently touching the raised scar.
“His heartbeat is weak, but he is alive,” the king said.
“We need to keep him warm. He feels cold,” she said, softly stroking Jonas’s cheek.
The king removed his cloak and placed it over Jonas’s still form. Fil removed his sleeping roll from his pack and draped Jonas with it, then looked down at his sleeping form, relieved to see the movement of his chest as Jonas slowly breathed in the cold air.
“He saved us,” Myrell said.
“I have never seen anything like that. His power was overwhelming. I cannot believe that it didn’t consume him,” the king said in wonder.
“I think it almost did,” replied Fil.
“Aye, and us,” muttered the dwarf, stroking his singed and smoke blackened face.
They were a sorry looking group. Most of their armor, except Jonas’s, was marred or blackened in some way. It would take many hours of polishing to restore it back to its origin
al state. Their clothes, hair, and skin had suffered minor burns, but they had nothing to help alleviate the pain. Luckily they were all so tired that they felt very little of the discomfort. It was more of an inconvenience as they tried to get a few hours of sleep.
Myrell lay down next to Jonas, laying her head on his chest and falling asleep in moments. It did not take long for the others to find sleep, for their eyelids felt like lead and their bodies begged for a quick reprieve from the constant running and fighting. Allindrian stayed awake and alert, as did King Kromm.
“You should rest, Sire. You do not know when you will get another chance,” Allindrian said. Kromm sat on the ground with his legs crossed before him, staring at Jonas.
“I will be okay. I do not need much sleep, I never have,” he replied absently. The king appeared to be preoccupied by his own thoughts as he continued staring at the young cavalier.
“What are you thinking?” Allindrian asked.
He looked up at her. “I was just thinking how young Jonas is, and how much he has been through. He had no time to be a boy. I’m surprised at how much it saddens me.”
“I imagine you were not so young when you first bloodied your blade,” Allindrian replied.
“You are right; I was seventeen, younger than Jonas, but I am a king, he is not.”
“No, he isn’t, he is a cavalier. There are those that must carry the heavy weight of responsibility, for only a few can. You are one of those men, as is Jonas.”
“I understand that, but it saddens me just the same,” the king said, his blue eyes looking up at Allindrian. “He saved us today, and he may die tomorrow and he has never experienced all that life has to offer. There are so many things that he has missed and he may never enjoy. When I look at him now I see my own son, and I don’t like to think about how their fates may mirror each other,” he said bitterly.
The anger and frustration were there, deep in his gaze, pinpoints of boiling blue fire ready to explode.
“We will find your son and queen. And I do not think that it will be so easy to kill Jonas,” Allindrian said with a slight smile.
The king’s smile finally pushed through his darker emotions. “I think you are right. The boy has skill and power that I have never seen in one so young.”
“He is special, a warrior with an unbreakable heart, a young man who cannot be corrupted,” she added, and then seemed to get lost in her own thoughts.
Kromm looked at her for a few moments. “You care for him, don’t you?”
Allindrian looked over at the king, the question startling her from her reverie. “Of course, as I said he is a special man.”
“That is not what I mean.”
Allindrian blushed for a moment before gaining her composure. It was a flash of emotion but the king caught it just before she returned to her stoic self.
“He is young, and human,” she said matter-of-factly, but she did not deny it.
“He is still a man, and you are still a woman, even if you are half-elf. All people have needs and emotions, is there a reason why you deny yours?” the king asked softly.
“I am a Blade Singer, and he a cavalier. There are too many factors to consider for me to entertain those emotions. It would not work.”
“The reasons you state seem to be reasons enough to entertain those emotions, for life is precarious for warriors like us. But I will mention it no more, and I did not desire to make you feel uncomfortable.”
Kromm glanced back down at the boy thoughtfully as Allindrian turned her vigilant gaze to their surroundings. After a few moments of silence the king looked back at the Blade Singer.
“Thank you for being here, Allindrian. Your presence has saved us more than once, and I do not take that lightly.”
“As I said, those of us that can, do. With skill and power comes responsibility. That is what makes us different than the evil that hunts us.”
“Nonetheless, I thank you.”
Allindrian smiled, nodding her head in acknowledgement.
“Get some sleep, Sire. I will keep watch.”
“How much further to the gate?” he asked, lying down on the soft dirt.
“No more than half a day.”
“Very good, wake me for the second watch.” His tired eyes closed and sleep quickly overtook him.
Jonas slowly opened his hazy eyes, taking a few moments to orient himself. He was lying on his side in dirt and grass and the first thing his eyes focused on was a large piece of stone, shaped into a perfect rectangle, rising from the earth like it had been there a long while. The stone was familiar to him, and as his eyes gazed past it to the mountain rock face and forest surroundings, he realized that he was lying in the very same meadow where Taleen had died. In fact it was Taleen’s cairn that he was looking at.
“I’m sorry, Jonas,” a familiar voice said from behind him.
Jonas slowly stood, shaking the grogginess from his mind. He was dreaming again, but his head still ached and his body felt like it had been stomped on by an army of ogres. He turned to face Shyann, who was standing tall a few paces behind him wearing her silver armor. Even though he had seen her wearing it before, the splendor of it caused a sharp intake of breath. She did not have her helm on so her raven black hair cascaded down her armored shoulder plates covering most of her chest. Her features were earthy and tanned, the appearance you might expect from a farmer’s wife. But she was no mere peasant, her full lips were the color of ripe cherries and her angular chin and cheekbones gave her demeanor a look of power and confidence. A shimmering blue cape was fluttering in the breeze behind her and a long sword rested comfortably at her hip. The whole scene was bathed in bright sunlight and Jonas breathed in the sweet smell of cherry blossoms.
“Why did she have to die?” Jonas asked bluntly as Shyann took a step closer to him. She moved with liquid grace and Jonas’s heart caught in his throat as she stepped to within an arm’s length of him.
“We all die, but few can say they died for a cause,” replied Shyann with a comforting smile.
“But what did she die for? Did her death change anything? Why couldn’t you help her?” Jonas asked, looking into her eyes. They were stars filled with the warmth of goodness and Jonas fell into them immediately.
“Jonas, she died for what she believed in, and in doing so pushed the cause of good further along. Every single action that she took in life helped others, and that in turn has been a catalyst for good in the world. She helped change the world for the better, Jonas,” Shyann whispered softly, her melodic voice drifting around Jonas, drawing the fear and anger from him.
“But you could have stopped her death. Why did you let her die?” Jonas asked, almost pleading.
“Jonas,” Shyann began. “I am not what you think. I am not a god in the sense that you imagine. I cannot control all things. I could not save Taleen because I did not have the power to do so.” Shyann paused as she turned and looked out over the snowcapped trees, the peaks of the Tundrens poking through the layers of clouds beyond them. “The world is so much more than you know, so much more than I knew as a farmer, and even now, much of it is still a mystery to me. But know this. There are many worlds such as yours, all unique in their own way. But one thing they have in common is the struggle between light and dark. Ulren has had many names over more years than you can imagine, and his presence has been known in memories of ancient peoples across many worlds.”
“What of the Forsworn?”
“They too have had many names, and have impacted different people in many realms. Jonas,” Shyann said, turning back towards him. “I do not know the answers to all the questions that plague you. There are many things that elude even me. I am but one player in a very serious game. I am a warrior for Ulren, as you are a warrior for me, and yet I have never met him as you and I speak now. There have been times in our world, and other worlds, where darkness has reigned, and other times where it was pushed back into the holes and shadows from which it came.”
“But why
would Ulren and the other gods allow evil to rule?” Jonas asked, slowly trying to grasp all that Shyann was saying, and failing miserably.
“Ulren was not strong enough,” Shyann whispered.
“How is that possible? I don’t understand.”
“Jonas, I cannot answer all these questions now. But know that I am sorry that I could not stop Taleen’s death.” Then she reached out, gently touching his face. “I am sorry for the pain it caused you,” she said, grazing his face with her fingers. At her touch, there was an instant flash of light that exploded in his mind and he was momentarily blinded.
When he opened his eyes he found himself standing on a tall hillock looking out at an expanse of rolling hills covered with golden grasses undulating in the evening breeze. There were patches of snow dotting the hills but its cold embrace was losing the battle against the fast approaching warmth of spring. The sun was setting and the last remnants of its fiery light touched the tips of the tall grass.
He was still dreaming, he could feel the lack of connection to his surroundings. It was like he was there, but not physically. He was gazing at the scenery in its ethereal form, yet he could still feel the breeze and smell the clean cold air.
“Turn around, Jonas,” Shyann whispered next to him.
He did so and what he saw made his heart pound.
Before him was an army that expanded across the plains as far as the eye could see. Pinpoints of flame were springing up all over the hills as fires were being built and evening meals prepared.
“They are not men, Jonas,” replied Shyann, reading his thoughts clearly.
Jonas, squinting his eyes, tried to get a closer look, but he could not, they were simply too far away. At their distance they looked like dark forms and shadows moving around tiny points of flame. “What you see is Malbeck’s army.”
Jonas looked at her, awed by the scene in front of them. And then the sounds of the army assaulted him. His ears were bombarded by the screeching and howling of beasts, the deep guttural voices of orcs, ogres, and other dark creatures that inhabited the lands of Kraawn.
The Cavalier Trilogy: Book 02 - The Rise of Malbeck Page 23