Powers of the Six

by Kristal Shaff

  Alec stopped so abruptly, Taryn ran into him.

  “Ow—” Taryn rubbed her arm.

  “Shh,” Flann said.

  “Why are we going there?” Alec whispered.

  “Quiet,” Flann scolded again.

  “We bought travel torches from the smith,” Megan said. “We need them for our journey.”

  Alec still wouldn’t move.

  Taryn gave Alec a shove. “Come on!”

  “Both of you shut your mouths,” Flann said, “unless you want to tell the Rol’dan where we are.”

  Emery had also stopped mid-stride and stared at the shop, his face turning ashen.

  “Are you all right?” Megan touched Emery’s arm.

  Color returned to Emery’s cheeks; he forced a smile. “I’m fine. I’ve just had enough of this city to last me quite a while.”

  After some Strength-forced assistance on Rylan’s part, they convinced Alec to move. They opened the door to the armory and saw Kardos Deverell leaning over his anvil. Aunt Bonty’s well-rounded form rested against a nearby wall, watching him work. Both their faces lifted and fell in shock.

  “You forgot a few of your things at the inn,” Bonty said to Megan, her voice quivering slightly. “So I brought them out. By Brim! What have you folks gotten yourselves into?”

  “Oh, Bonty,” Megan said. “You shouldn’t be here.”

  “Well I am here, so you can tell me what’s going on.” Bonty crossed her arms. The serious scowl on her face disappeared as soon as she saw Alec. “My! Don’t you look handsome.”

  “What are you doing here?” Kardos growled.

  “Father, I’m sorry—”

  “You should be sorry, stepping foot in this shop.”

  “Believe me,” Alec said, crossing his arms, “not my choice.”

  “I hate to break this up,” Hakan said, “but we’re about to get company.”

  A Speed Rol’dan burst into the shop, and a blur of swordplay erupted.

  “Get back,” Emery said, motioning for them to get some distance.

  Nolan gawked, unable to discern any part of the battle. The swords rang so fast, sounding like a metallic hum. They didn’t need to wait long; the fighting abruptly stopped. The Rol’dan soldier crumpled, his chest bleeding dark crimson.

  Alec stood erect, red-coated sword in hand. He deflated and staggered back, staring at his victim. He wiped a sleeve across his mouth as his face paled. Another Speed Rol’dan appeared, and Alec recovered and attacked again.

  “Isn’t there something we can do?” Taryn asked.

  “No,” Emery said. “We’ll just have to hope the boy can fend them off.”

  While the others gathered supplies, Nolan yanked out his sling and palmed a handful of coal from a nearby sack.

  “Nolan, come on,” Taryn prompted.

  He ignored her, fixing his eyes on the door. Alec needed help. Nolan squeezed the leather straps of the sling so tightly his fingers numbed. When a soldier burst through, Nolan loosed a large piece of coal with more reflex than thought. It found its mark with a dull thud, and the soldier dropped.

  Alec yanked his blade from another Rol’dan’s chest and met Nolan’s eyes. What had they gotten themselves into?

  Captain Stian appeared, his arrogant face sneering as he raised his sword. Alec’s Shay light swelled, but Stian was hurled backward before their swords met. The far wall splintered as the captain crashed through it.

  Nolan inched closer and peered through the gaping hole. Stian was pinned to the ground, an anvil on his chest. His body jerked with his final death throes, and then he lay still.

  Rylan ran up behind, his eyes wide and still flaming red with his Strength. “I didn’t mean—”

  “It’s all right,” Nolan said. “You did what you had to do.”

  “What the Darkness!” Kardos’s face flushed with rage. “My anvil! My wall!”

  “Your belongings are the least of your problems, Mr. Deverell,” Emery said. “From now on, you’ll be considered a traitor by association. You must come with us.”

  Kardos scowled and glared from one to the other with disgust, stopping at Alec and quickly looking away. “Why would I come with a bunch of filthy Rol’dan?”

  “Because if you don’t, you’ll die,” Emery said. “And your presence could serve us well. We need a craftsman like you to help us make weapons.”

  Kardos’s expression softened briefly before it hardened again. “To kill the Rol’dan?”

  “To defend ourselves, and yes, some Rol’dan may die because of it.”

  “There’re more coming,” Hakan warned.

  “All right,” Kardos growled. “I’ll come.”

  Kardos yanked a bag from a hook and shoved tools into it.

  Bonty hovered nearby, wringing her hands. “You take care of yourself, Kardos Deverell—”

  “I’m afraid they probably already know of your involvement as well,” Emery said. “It’d be best if you come with us.”

  “B-but my shop …” Bonty stammered.

  “They’re getting closer,” Hakan said. “Is there some other way out of here?”

  Kardos nodded and led them out the back of the building.

  “We need to get far away from the main gates,” Emery said. “As close to the river as we can.”

  The panic on Bonty’s face smoothed, and she inhaled deeply. “I know the perfect spot. Follow me.”

  Bonty led them in a most confusing manner, weaving down several streets, until they reached the northeastern wall of the city. They stopped near an unmarked building, near a garden edged with decorative stones. It was one of the few places in Alton not filled with shops, where some of the merchants lived.

  Alton’s city wall stretched above them, at least five men tall. A tower along the wall’s edge held a platoon of useless Alton guards.

  Nolan squatted next to a cucumber plant and grabbed a handful of stones. He was fresh out of ink bottles; he’d need something to throw.

  “The river is on the other side,” Bonty whispered and pointed at the wall.

  “There are too many guards,” Hakan said. He listened, his eyes flaring orange with Perception. “There’s the group up there, another at the gates, and a whole swarm of them searching the city. For now, they don’t know where we are.”

  “Ideas?” Flann asked.

  Taryn pointed to some steps leading to the tower. “We can climb there, take out the guards, and jump down the other side?”

  “Jump down the other side?” Daren said. “Ouch.”

  “Should I …” Rylan said hesitantly, “Should I break through the wall?”

  “I’ve considered that,” Emery said. “However, the wall is too thick, even for you. It’d take several attempts, and even then, the stones might come down on you.”

  Nolan leaned against a gnarled oak and looked up. The tree was taller than the wall, but too far away. If the branches were only longer, they could climb. Of course, the drop on the other side would hurt.

  Emery followed Nolan’s gaze. “Excellent idea!”

  Excellent idea? “But it’s too far,” Nolan said.

  Emery turned to Rylan. “You can make us a ladder.”

  Realization washed over Rylan’s face as he gawked at the tree. “With that?” His voice raised a pitch.

  Emery smiled. “You’ll do fine.”

  “Um … okay.” Shaking out his hands, Rylan approached the tree. His eyes glowed red with Strength, subtly at first and then bright as flames. He braced his palms against the trunk and took a prolonged sigh. Then, with teeth bared, he pushed.

  Veins protruded on his thin neck, and a yell broke from his clenched teeth. The earth moved beneath their feet as roots popped free from their soil bed.

  “By Brim …” Kardos said.

  A horn sounded, and Alton guards stormed from the tower to the ledge on the wall, spears in hand.

  Things were about to get ugly.

  Nolan placed a rock and slung it. A soldier yelped and
tumbled backward off the wall, hitting the other side with a pathetic moan. Nolan threw another, then another, picking the soldiers off until he’d cleared the ledge.

  Rylan pushed harder until the tree hit the wall with a cracking thud.

  “Quickly!” Emery said.

  Kardos grabbed Bonty’s hand and helped her up; together they made the climb. Kardos reached the top first, his heavy tool bag clanging. He slid down the draping branches, using them like a dangling rope. Both he and Bonty disappeared from Nolan’s vision as they descended to the opposite side.

  Nolan palmed more stones as he waited for the others to start their climb. Swords rang out on the other side of the wall. Apparently, the poor guards Nolan had dislodged would have to face the blade of Kardos Deverell.

  Nolan and Alec stood by the tree’s base. Shouts and cries sounded from somewhere inside the city, breaking through the quiet air. He couldn’t see them yet, but their voices drew closer with every barked command.

  Alec nudged him. “Get going. I got this.”

  Nolan was about to object until he saw Alec, blood-coated sword clenched in his fist, snarling expression on his scarred face, and golden light blazing from his eyes.

  Nolan nodded and scrambled up the tree.

  Hand over hand Nolan climbed, heart thundering, palms sweating. Branches and bark scratched his arms. He reached the top and looked down, vertigo clamping his mind. He grabbed a branch, steadying himself.

  Most of their group had reached the bottom where a circle of injured guards surrounded Kardos. Hakan still descended, the thin branches bowing under the mountain man’s weight. A dozen blue lights caught Nolan’s attention farther down the parapet to the west. His heart stopped. Rol’dan archers.

  Nolan’s eyes jerked Alec. He was fighting more guards, his back to the wall. One Accuracy shot, and he’d be dead before he hit the ground.

  “Alec!” Nolan yelled.

  Alec spun, scowling. “I’m busy!”

  “Alec! Get your arse up here. Now!”

  Alec turned again, his face tight in irritation until he caught sight of the Rol’dan. He cursed and—after a few sword slashes for good measure—sprinted up the tree.

  One thing Nolan could say about Alec: He was an excellent warrior. Another thing he noted: Alec didn’t know a rat’s backside about climbing.

  Nolan gasped and gripped a branch every time Alec slipped. By the time he’d reached the top, Nolan’s heart beat out of his chest.

  “Wow,” Nolan said. “That was … not so good.”

  Alec’s jaw clenched and his nostrils flared. He opened his mouth to speak just as the sound of bowstrings filled the air.

  Nolan yanked down hard on Alec, pulling him behind the trunk. The first volley of arrows thudded into the wood.

  “We have to get down,” Nolan said. He only hoped the others were smart enough to get out of range. Dark was closing in, at least. It would make it hard for the archers to see.

  The soldiers repositioned for better aim. Behind them on the wall, Strength Rol’dan closed in, eyes shining red, massive war hammers outlined in the dying light. He and Alec could hide from the arrows, but once the Strength Rol’dan reached them—

  “Heads up!” Alec yelled.

  An arrow whistled through a gap in the branches and slammed into Nolan’s shoulder. He reached, grasping for a branch as it slipped through his fingers. And, as if in slow motion, he fell.

  Branches cracked and twigs scratched his arms and face as he plummeted through the limbs. A resounding snap rang in his ears when he hit the ground. Darkness that had nothing to do with the night hovered before his eyes. He gasped for breath.

  “Nolan!”

  Nolan shook his throbbing head and saw Alec’s bag lying next to him on the muddy earth. He must’ve dropped it. His shoulder and arm throbbed, the pain buzzing in his head. The aches drifted in the background of his consciousness as the longing for the bag pulled at him. He reached, but recoiled when his broken arm protested.

  “Nolan, get up!” Emery stood over him.

  Nolan staggered to his feet, his legs nearly buckling. He groaned as pain stabbed through his shoulder and arm. Nolan looked up, expecting to be impaled, but the branches blocked the archers for the time being. It wouldn’t last long, though. They were already climbing around the tree to get a better aim.

  The Strength Rol’dan hovered on the wall, not daring to descend now that night approached. Nolan jerked his eyes to the line of trees. Night. With the darkness came the Dor’Jan. Crows! They’d left one fire and thrown themselves into another. Maybe the Rol’dan were the wise ones, after all.

  Alec slid ungracefully down a branch and landed. “Nolan? You okay?”

  “I think so.” His head swam and his arm throbbed. The arrow shaft had broken off in his shoulder, the stub of bloody wood protruding. Nolan pulled his gaze from the wound and locked on Alec’s bag.

  “Forget it,” Alec said. “I don’t need it.”

  The bag drew Nolan, compelling him, but it was out in the open, away from the safety of the tree.

  “Seriously, Nolan,” Alec said. “There’s nothing there. Can you walk? Do you need help?”

  “I’m fine,” Nolan said. At least his legs were good enough to run.

  Alec jogged off, looking over his shoulder, waiting for Nolan to follow.

  Nolan should go. It was only seconds before the Rol’dan would be back in range.

  “Nolan!” Alec said in a raised whisper from his place at the river’s edge. The others were already crossing, wading in water to their waists, disappearing outside the torchlight into the darkness, but Nolan’s feet couldn’t move.

  Without rational thought, Nolan sprinted toward where the bag lay.

  As soon as he looped it over his head, a chorus of bowstrings twanged. Pain erupted as half a dozen arrows punched into his chest. He fell and gasped, but no air would come, only the warm flow of bitter blood. Blackness edged into his vision, making the world muddy and dark.

  A figure appeared over him, Alec perhaps, tossing arrows with his Speed.

  Then someone lifted Nolan.

  He heard more yelling and splashing water.

  And then, finally, Nolan heard nothing at all.

  Chapter Seventeen

  NOLAN’S BACK ARCHED, and then collapsed, splashing into the cold currents. The agony was gone, but in its place, a weakness enveloped him, as if he’d forced aside the heavy cloak of death.

  The moon glowed through the cloud cover, casting pale light on the figure of a girl standing shin-deep in the caressing river. Wet strands of hair hung over her downcast face, and her sagging shoulders heaved in labored breaths. Nolan had been healed, but at what price? Poor Taryn had gone above and beyond the call.

  She lifted her face, and the moonlight reflected on her hair. The blond strands Nolan expected weren’t there. The locks were brown, and tears still lingered on her cheeks. It wasn’t Taryn at all. Megan wiped her eyes and gave Nolan a weary smile. Large spots of blood soaked through the front of her dress.

  Nolan opened his mouth, but no words would come. He could hardly believe it. Megan was a Healer? The memory of the arrows returned in full clarity. Not only had she healed him, she’d saved his life.

  “I told you to stop!” Flann grabbed Megan’s arm and yanked her to her feet. She staggered, sloshing in the water as she clutched her brother’s arm for support.

  “Stop?” she said. “You’d rather I’d watched him die?”

  “You could’ve died!”

  “The risk was my choice to make, not yours—”

  “Our whole mission is a risk. Each of us must make choices. What Megan did was dangerous, but it was also right,” Emery said.

  Emery waded toward Nolan. His wet hair clung to the side of his bearded face. He knelt, examining Nolan as the faint purple in his eyes glowed brilliantly in the darkness.

  “Where are we?” Nolan asked

  “Downstream from Faylinn. The Rol’dan won’t fo
llow us, but we need to move quickly. Can you walk?”

  Barely able to feel his arms from the cold water, Nolan placed his palms against the gravel-and-slime-covered riverbed. As soon as he pushed up, both hands slipped, and he collapsed with a splash. “I … I don’t think so.”

  Emery nodded. “You’ve lost a lot of blood. I’m afraid you’ll have to travel by other means.” He made a motion toward Rylan.

  “I can do this.” Nolan braced his hands. They trembled, and he fell into the water again.

  “I’m sorry, Nolan,” Emery said. “We can’t wait, at least not for you to walk on your own.”

  Emery was right. Nolan was as useful as a sack of rocks. He resisted the impulse to sink below the water and disappear.

  Rylan stepped toward him, his shirt covered in bloody gore. Stripes of red streaked down one shoulder to his back, as if he’d carried a deer carcass across his shoulder after a hunt. Nolan swallowed. So much blood. He must’ve carried Nolan away after he’d been shot.

  Rylan smiled sheepishly, lifted Nolan, and pitched him over his narrow shoulders like a sick lamb from the field.

  “Now that we’re out of danger … for the moment,” Emery said, “we’ll travel the river a bit farther and then through the Forest of Vidar. We mustn’t light a torch, nor utter a sound of any kind. If we do, we could bring the Dor’Jan upon us.”

  “So this is how we’re supposed to evade death?” Kardos said. “By Brim, you’re mad.”

  “So it would seem.” Emery’s mouth quirked. “Hakan, you’ll take the lead from this point on. You can recognize the creatures by sight or sound?”

  Hakan frowned. “Aye, and smell as well. I can’t forget that stench.”

  “Is there anything I can do?” Daren asked. “I have Perception.”

  Emery patted Daren’s shoulder. “I’m afraid your gift is not developed enough to withstand the efforts.” At the confusion that flitted over Daren’s face, Emery explained, “Our powers weaken as the sun sets. Perhaps you might help by keeping watch over our group, making sure we all stay together. It’d be death for anyone who falls behind.”