Maeva

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Maeva Page 7

by Robert Oliver


  “Are they still together? Your mother and the Proctor?”

  Adrious shook his head. “No. Their relationship was discovered and Mauria was punished and jailed for it. When she was released, Lilly, the Proctor, had taken her daughter out of the warzone.”

  “That’s a shame they never reconciled.”

  “They tried,” he said. “Years later they visited, and it didn’t go well. I think they really did love each other. But they just couldn’t make it work.”

  “Masola was the center of the Proctor Wars. There is still a lot of hostility toward Proctors.”

  “It will fade, with time,” he said.

  “I never had a stable home. A family adopted me, and for a while, things were great. But my adoptive parents finally had a child of their own. They made a clear difference between me and my new brother, and I was jealous. When I was thirteen, I ran away from my home in Selandis and never looked back. A sorceress and gifted healer in Masola took me in and taught me the craft. Sometimes, in the depths of meditation, I feel as though she’s out there. It’s probably just wishful thinking, but I have often thought of looking for my mother. I just have no idea where to start.”

  Adrious took a drink from his canteen. “I’ve tried to find information on Lilly, but Masola kept no records on her. It seems we share a lot in common.”

  “We do.”

  She leaned back and stared at the stars. “There’s another reason I have trouble sleeping.”

  “What?” he asked.

  “Sometimes, when I close my eyes… I still see the fires from my vision. Echoes of people screaming. It frightens me.”

  Adrious gave her a reassuring smile. “Anytime you need to talk about it, I’m here.”

  “Even if you’re asleep?”

  “Wake me up, even if I’m dead to the world. You can even move your bedroll next to me if it helps you feel safe.”

  She picked up her bed and placed it beside him. She pulled her blanket over her. “I feel better already.”

  “You don’t have to face this alone.”

  “Thank you, Adrious.”

  “Good night, Aja.”

  “Good night.”

  Chapter 20

  The early morning hunt belonged to Frasie. She loved her family and friends, no doubt, but their company wasn’t necessary on these sacred mornings. Thick fog, slick, moss-covered rocks, and the smell of dew-laden vegetation were her treasured companions. She yearned to face the call of the wild alone—precisely how she liked it.

  But now, a dark cloud of doubt and worry provided unwelcome companionship. The beautiful Jeweled Woods—not just her home, but the sanctuary of the southern Selandis continent—faced a monumental threat of invasion. In school, they learned of wars that had ravaged the land, but none dared enter the multicolored sanctuary so dear to her heart.

  But she knew giving in to her fears would only make them worse. A kill now meant more than a wedding gift—it would supply needed food for a town under siege. For now, at least, the woods were safe. They were hers. The hunt would continue.

  She hiked through the forest for over an hour but saw no trace of any game. She stopped by the brook near where she met Lilly and took a drink. She always found tracks near the water, so it surprised her that the bank’s mud was pristine.

  The mist made it impossible to see long distances, so she closed her eyes and listened intently for anything that might be amiss. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but she knew something was off. She walked slowly through the forest, stopping every minute or so to listen to the sounds the woods offered her.

  When she reached the southern edge of her property—a fair distance from the center of Brenloh—she heard a noise. A low rumble, of sorts, but very faint. At first, she thought it might be distant thunder, but it went on too long for that. Her skin crawled and her heart raced. She knew, deep down inside, what was coming.

  She stepped forward, hoping to catch a glimpse. With a hand to her ear, she could make out faint whispers in the fog. Dark figures approached. She nocked a flaming arrow and held it, waiting for her target to appear. A row of at least two dozen men in black and red uniforms emerged from the fog in unison.

  She dove to the ground just before a tremendous chorus of loud cracks, then leapt to her feet and ran, not sparing a second to look back. Her legs carried her so fast she feared she would topple over. Soon, a second crack echoed through the trees, and a projectile whizzed by with the fury of an angry bee. Sweat poured from her brow as she poured every scrap of her energy into her legs. After another distant bang, they stopped.

  She didn’t stop running until she reached the center of Brenloh. She thought her heart would explode. Villagers gathered around her as she gasped for air. Someone offered her water, but there was no way she could drink.

  Finally, she managed, “They’re here!”

  Aiden pointed to her arm. “Frasie, you’re bleeding!”

  Chapter 21

  Niv held Frasie’s arm. “I’ve got her.”

  “Aiden and I will scout ahead,” Farius said.

  She put her hands on Frasie’s arm and channeled healing energy into her injured friend. She knew immediately something was wrong.

  “I cannot heal you until I remove the projectile,” she said. “It’s interfering with my magic. Anyone have a knife?”

  “I have my hunting knife,” Frasie replied.

  “It needs to be clean. There’s no time to sterilize it.”

  Olivia reached in her dress and presented her athame.

  She hesitated. “Your blade is sacred and is not a tool.”

  Olivia placed the blade in her hand. “Frasie means more to me.”

  “No need for that,” Frasie said. “My knife will do.”

  “You’ll have a raging infection within a week,” she said.

  “You can cure it,” Frasie said.

  “I’m not certain of that. This wound is different.” She looked to Olivia. “Thank you.”

  Mangled threads from the fabric of her dress had become entangled in the wound. She used the athame to remove the bits of fabric and cut the cloth ensure the area remained clean.

  “This is going to hurt,” she said.

  Frasie swallowed hard and nodded.

  Farius approached them. “I need you and Olivia to cover me. I am going to entrap them, and I will be vulnerable while I cast.”

  “I need a minute,” Niv said.

  Olivia put her hand on her shoulder. “I’ll go.”

  Frasie pulled away from her, grabbed her own knife and cut a strip of fabric from her dress. “Tie this around my wound, please.”

  She returned Olivia’s athame and bandaged Frasie’s arm.

  Frasie winced as she rotated her shoulder blade. “It’ll do for now.”

  Shareis and Lilly approached.

  “Where are you going?” Shareis asked.

  “We are going to use magic to halt their advance,” Farius said.

  “We’ll come with you,” Shareis said.

  She wanted Shareis’s companionship but knew her presence was needed elsewhere. It would be a strategic flaw to have all their leaders concentrated in one spot.

  She took Shareis’s hand. “We need more archers.”

  Shareis gave her a quick kiss. “Be careful, love.”

  After Shareis and Lilly departed, they followed Farius and Aiden to the edge of town. She stood by her father and listened intently. A dull, distant rumble filled the otherwise quiet forest.

  “What’s that noise?” Frasie asked.

  “Wagons?” she asked.

  “They have steam-powered vehicles that carry men behind steel,” Olivia said. “I am surprised they transported them across the ocean.”

  She took a step forward. “Be ready.”

  Rustling noses intensified, and the rumbling grew louder. Farius closed his eyes and began to chant in the ancient Druidic tongue. He raised his hands and summoned thick, strangling vines from the ground as soon as fig
ures emerged from the dense foliage.

  “That’ll stop them,” Frasie said.

  But it didn’t. The line of soldiers walked through the vines with ease, barely paying them any attention.

  She summoned a fireball in her hand and launched it toward them. It hit one of the invaders in the chest with absolutely no effect. Olivia cast a fireball, hitting another man in the abdomen, but the grim march continued. Their commander shouted, and the enemies crouched and took aim.

  “Get down!” she yelled.

  They took cover behind a log as projectiles whizzed over their heads.

  “Why doesn’t magic work on them?” she asked.

  “Not sure,” Olivia replied. “They’re resistant to charm magic as well.”

  “Will your barriers work against them?” she asked.

  Olivia prepared to stand. “It’s worth a try.”

  Aiden stopped her. “They have to reload. Wait until the next shot.”

  Soon enough, another round of fire passed over their heads. A distant scream echoed from the town.

  She tapped Aiden’s shoulder. “Tell the rest of your men our plan won’t work. Take cover and keep them at bay with arrows and explosives.

  “We’ll try something different.”

  Aiden nodded and crept back to the line of archers behind them.

  “Their rifles shoot metal pellets called bullets. They’re far more deadly than our arrows.” Olivia looked at Frasie. “You were lucky.”

  “Frasie and I will give you cover,” she said.

  After the next round of fire, she sprang to her feet and summoned two fireballs, one in each hand, and launched them toward the invaders to distract them. Frasie got off two arrows, killing at least one of the soldiers.

  Olivia extended her hands and arched them above her, raising a wide, purple, translucent magical barrier from the ground reaching well up into the canopy. Just as she returned to cover, a new barrage of incoming fire raced above their heads.

  “They’re firing right through my shield!” Olivia exclaimed.

  “We have to fall back,” Farius said.

  She poked her head above the log and took note of a large tree between them. She closed her eyes and entered a silent communion with the majestic plant. The tree knew that life—perhaps all life in the Jeweled Woods—was at stake. She concentrated on manifesting their joined vision, then pointed to the tree. Her muscles tensed as magical energy flowed through her limb and into the mighty oak. The imposing, majestic trunk creaked, its leaves shook, and after a large crack the old tree fell to the ground, killing numerous soldiers.

  “Let’s go!” she yelled.

  Aiden stopped them as soon as they returned to the town square. “What happened? Are you alright?”

  “We’re fine,” she replied. “They’ll be here any minute. Are you ready?”

  Aiden nodded, then motioned for some of the men armed with explosives to join him. “Hide behind the buildings and throw your bombs when they’re in range.”

  She and Frasie moved to the north side of the inn while Olivia and Farius hid behind the general store. Cherin tended to the woman hit during the previous exchange of fire.

  She ran back out into the square. “You’ve got to get her into the tavern.”

  Cherin pressed on the woman’s abdomen. “It’s not safe to move her.”

  “Neither of you are safe out here.”

  Cherin tried to soothe the victim. “I think I can stop the bleeding…”

  She picked up the injured woman. “Mom, you have to go. Now!”

  “Be careful with her, Niv,” Cherin fretted.

  Ren emerged from the inn to help.

  “Dad, please, take care of Mom.”

  Ren took the woman and escorted Cherin to safety, and she picked up a bow and quiver and rejoined Frasie. She surveyed the square for any sign of movement. A loud explosion shook her, fraying on her already rattled nerves. She looked to Shareis and the team of archers behind the makeshift barricades and admired her wife’s calm, collected countenance under such intense pressure. She hoped the quick peck she shared with Shareis wouldn’t be their last.

  The townsfolk stood behind the barricade, crudely armed to defend their town. Farmers adjusted the grip on their hunting bows and pitchforks and their wives waited behind them with hoes, metal pipes, and even a few swords, ready for whatever came.

  Frasie peered around the wall, then quickly retreated and nocked an arrow.

  “Here they come!”

  Chapter 22

  Chunks of bricks flew from the corner of the wall. Frasie bolted around the corner and fired, then returned to cover as another bullet whizzed by the edge of the building. Niv took a deep breath and fired into the incoming fray, hitting a soldier.

  “I got one,” she said. “But there’s twenty more behind him.”

  Frasie nodded to Shareis, and upon Shareis’s order, over two dozen archers sent arrows into the enemy lines. Despite taking some losses, their attackers continued unabated.

  Explosions rumbled around the edge of town as soldiers stepped on traps and were hit by villagers in hiding, lobbing bombs. She and Frasie continued to take turns firing around the corner.

  “Their lines are thinning!” Shareis yelled.

  Another set of explosions blasted along the edge of the courtyard. A few of the archers who were taking shots at the soldiers were hit and fell behind the barricade.

  Frasie’s eyes grew wide.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  Without saying a word, Frasie darted around the corner and fired another arrow, then reached for her knife.

  “They’re too close!” Frasie exclaimed.

  She ran near the inn and fetched a sword, nearly losing a hand to a shot that missed her by a hair. Frasie yelled for her to stop then turned and stabbed her knife into a man who had just rounded the corner. She dashed to cover her while Frasie dragged the body to them by his feet.

  Frasie took his rifle and handed it to her. In the moment Frasie had her back to him, he grabbed her friend’s ankle and pulled her to the ground. She kicked the soldier’s hand, but he didn’t loosen his grip.

  “Kill him!” Frasie yelled.

  She took her sword and plunged it into the center of the man’s chest only to have the blade deflect and deliver barely a glancing blow. She immediately realized her mistake, lowered the tip of the sword, and plunged it into the top of his abdomen. His panicked eyes darted from the blade to her as he heaved and struggled to breathe.

  Frasie finally regained her balance, took her knife, and stabbed his throat. His agonizing gaze softened into a distant glare.

  A tremendous explosion rumbled through the forest, and a wall behind them collapsed. The low rumble intensified, and a cloud of dust proceeded their attackers, making it impossible to see anything. Aiden called on them to pull back, so she and Frasie ran to the barricade.

  “We are almost surrounded,” Farius said.

  Another loud bang brought down half the wall of the general store.

  Shareis ordered another round of arrows, but several more archers fell. Smoke and dust now filled the town square.

  “We’re out of explosives, Niv,” Aiden said. “We have to fall back!”

  “We’ve done all we can here,” she said. “Let’s go!”

  Everyone behind the barricade ran behind the inn. She tried to open the rear door, but it was locked. She pounded on it, screaming at the top of her lungs for someone to hear her.

  “They’re coming,” Shareis said. “We’ll buy you some time.”

  She gathered a large fireball between her hands, told her friends to stand back, and blasted the wood door right off its frame. She went inside and yelled at the citizens over their frantic screams.

  “We’re evacuating Brenloh. This way to the wagons. Come on!”

  Ren, Cherin, and Jarris were among the first out of the tavern.

  Cherin stopped her. “Niv, the wounded woman is inside. We have to heal her.


  More townsfolk shuffled through the smoldering door frame and made their way to the northeast edge of town.

  “Can she walk?”

  “She’s not even conscious,” Cherin said.

  “We have to leave her.”

  Cherin shook her head. “No, Niv. She’ll die!”

  “We can’t hold them much longer,” Shareis yelled.

  She held her mother’s hands. “Look, Mom… I know you want to save her. But we can’t.”

  Cherin fretted, and her eyes swelled with tears. She looked at Ren. “Please, take her and Jarris with the others.”

  After a bit of hesitation, Cherin relented.

  “Here.” Niv tossed the rifle to Aiden. “I have no idea how to use this.”

  Aiden inspected the weapon. “It’s out of bullets.”

  “We need to give them cover,” she told Shareis. “Aiden, make sure everyone gets on the wagons.”

  She and Aiden exchanged a brief glance. An unspoken conversation passed between them. After a quick nod, he circled around the other side of the building. She motioned for her father to follow the evacuation.

  Shareis threw down her bow and removed her blade from its scabbard. Shareis looked at Niv’s sword. “Do you know how to use that?”

  “Not really.” She spun the grip in her hand. “But I’m a quick learner.”

  The explosions calmed, and voices of soldiers filled the square.

  “Kill anyone that passes,” Shareis whispered. “Aim for their throat and chest. Don’t be timid.”

  She nodded.

  Shareis pointed around the corner and put her finger across her lips. Two male voices drew close. Shareis waited, then grabbed the wrist of one of the men and twisted it, forcing him to drop his rifle. Before the other could raise his weapon, she bolted to him and swung her sword, cutting the man’s arm. Shareis kicked her assailant and pinned him to the ground with her boot. Her attacker stooped to pick up the rifle.

  Shareis grabbed her assailant’s hair. “Niv!”

  It took only a split second for her to realize what her wife wanted. She raised her sword and swung at his neck, cracking the vertebrae but failing to sever his head. The soldier let loose a bloodcurdling, raspy yell.

 

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