Visioner

by K K Ness

  A thick pall of it soon rolled into the grove. It stung their eyes. Danil reached out toward the leylines, and strangely sensed mournful regret and resolve. He peered around the boulder to the pool, but its surface was still.

  Shadows moved in the tree line covering the ridge. Hafryn gripped his arm, motioning him to hunker down.

  As many as ten magi sprinted along the ridge, their red robes a sharp contrast to the trees and verdant undergrowth. A heartbeat later, they struck up against an invisible barrier. Sparks and lightning shot across the ridge as Elania and Blutark wove their enchantments.

  The magi responded in kind, with fireballs arching into the air to set the forest alight. Blutark made a quashing motion, smothering the nearest flames, as Elania released a new torrent of lightning.

  Half the magi party broke away to skitter down the ridge.

  Elania gave a roar of rage, fending off more fireballs but could do nothing as the breakaway party raced across the grove toward the pool.

  The magi paused, grinning at the sight of iridescent kiandrite visible through the water.

  ‘Go down!’ Danil shouted to the well, begging it to disappear back down into the earth. The leylines shrugged him off.

  Hafryn urgently gripped Danil’s wrist, green eyes wide. “Look,” he breathed,

  Standing among the magi, and dressed in their matching red garb, was none other than Arlyn, emissary to the Kingdom of Roldaer.

  29

  Waving curtly, Emissary Arlyn directed the magi to fan out through the smoke-filled gully. She remained by the pool, casting a leery eye up at the ridge where Elania and Blutark still battled.

  Behind her, one magus raised his hands, fire spewing forth to consume an evergreen shrub.

  Peering cautiously around the boulder, Danil watched tortured flecks of kiandrite fly into the air like embers.

  Another magus trailed after the first. He carried a plain silver box, the type folk used to store gems and semi-precious trinkets. Something about the box drew the kiandrite embers to it, where they disappeared inside with tortured pops and hisses.

  “Death magic,” Hafryn whispered, paling.

  Danil could feel the leylines beneath them stir in anguish as more kiandrite was cruelly harvested.

  “Hurry!” Arlyn ordered as she strode between the sparse vegetation. She stopped over a burrow, where Danil could sense pink-nosed moles cowering within. Arlyn muttered something under her breath. Fire exploded from her hands to funnel down into the hole, and tortured shrieks rang out. Flecks of red kiandrite drifted out of the burrow moments later.

  “She’s a magus,” Danil gasped, guts churning in horror, his heart aching for the murdered creatures.

  Hafryn’s mouth thinned grimly. “Aye. And who knows what Amasian secrets she’s garnered from within Corros.”

  Movement drew Danil’s attention to the far edge of the gully. Another contingent of magi arrived, escorting a hooded woman in white robes trimmed with red. In the smoky haze, Danil caught sight of a dark braid lined with silver, then recognized the delicate profile of the woman’s jaw as she turned about to gain her bearings.

  “Magus Brianna,” he breathed.

  Hafryn shuffled behind the boulder to get a clearer view. He cursed. “Her memories were taken from her!”

  Brianna grinned up at Elania and Blutark, who remained pinned in their fight on the ridge. Flaring her cloak about her, she turned around and pointed haughtily past the pool to the dark mine tunnel leading down to the temple.

  Hafryn cursed once more. “We should have killed her when we had the chance,” he snarled.

  The heat began to grow stifling as Arlyn’s magi continued to burn away the fragile life within the grove. Any moment now, they’d turn their attention to what lay beneath the water. Glancing about at the fire and smoke, Danil realized this was much like what he’d seen over and over again in his visions.

  The leylines had tried to warn him.

  Danil pushed to his feet.

  “Wait!” Hafryn hissed, grabbing his sleeve and yanking him back down. “What are you doing?”

  “I have to stop them, Hafryn! It’s my duty as custodian!”

  “How can you stop them?” Hafryn asked, gripping his shoulders tightly. His green eyes were frantic. “There are no enchanters down here, Danil.”

  “I don’t know, Hafryn!” All he knew was that he’d promised to protect the leylines. He couldn’t flinch when they most desperately needed him.

  Hafryn shook his head angrily. “Not alone,” he snarled. “You’re not going out there alone and without a plan. That’s a sure way to get yourself killed.”

  It stilled Danil for a few heartbeats, as the terror of Hafryn facing against magi and their flames set in.

  “He has the right of it, videre,” a new voice agreed.

  Whirling, Hafryn snarled and withdrew his blade. He slammed the newcomer against the boulder in an instant, sword at his throat.

  Hands raised, Viren smirked. “Quite the welcome, cousin. I expected nothing less.”

  Hafryn released a wolfish snarl, teeth bared. “You.”

  “Eloquent as always.” Viren’s smirk widened.

  Danil suddenly noticed a huge owl perched upon the height of the boulder behind them. He recognized the blue-tipped wings and petulant gaze.

  Merlias…

  Other owls, larger and darker than any Danil thought possible, perched in silent vigil amongst the black rocks.

  Viren set a finger against the hilt of the blade to nudge it back from where it scraped his throat.

  Hafryn didn’t move an inch except to bare more teeth.

  Amusement in his green eyes, Viren slid his gaze to Danil. “Call off your wolf, Danil. I’m here to fulfill our bargain.”

  Danil returned his gaze stonily. “Like you were going to do on the river?” he hissed. The yearning to touch Viren with Kaul’s glyph suddenly gripped him.

  “Just so.” Viren smiled slightly. “You restored the glyphs of Eyrie as promised. Now I must ensure Hafryn lives. That was our agreement, yes?”

  Danil stared at him as if he were daft. The roar of the flames grew more violent.

  Viren’s green eyes gleamed. “An Eyrie contract never goes unfulfilled, videre.”

  Hafryn pressed the blade closer until a thin line of blood showed on Viren’s throat. “It’ll end if you’re dead, Viren.”

  The councilor had the audacity to shrug as a thick plume of acrid smoke rolled over them. “I see no one else coming to your aid.” His gaze slid back to Danil. “Well, custodian?”

  Even without looking, Danil could hear the crackle of burning vegetation draw closer. He nodded grimly. “I’ll take it.”

  Hafryn gaped, his hard grip on the blade loosening slightly.

  Viren took that moment to push the sword aside. Pulling a square of cloth from his pocket, he dabbed the blood from his throat. “Your plan, videre?”

  Hardening his resolve, Danil muttered, “The magi can’t take the pool or the tunnel.”

  “Very well.” Viren’s massive red Trueform trotted into view, fangs bared as the councilor signaled the waiting owls. “Lead the way.”

  Taking a final look at Hafryn’s astonished face, Danil rose from behind the boulder. Through the smoke, he saw the magi were perhaps a hundred feet from the pool. Arlyn spied him from behind a wall of flames and gave a crow of delight.

  Undeterred, Danil jumped over the ash-covered rock with a sense that destiny was upon him.

  30

  “Hello, Danil,” Arlyn said, banking the fire slightly at his approach. “Come to re-join your people?”

  The leylines clamored at him, their whisperings lost over the roar of the flames. Red kiandrite hung heavy in the air, whirling in the heat, but what caught his attention was the iridescent light he could somehow see in Arlyn’s belly.

  “You’ve ingested kiandrite,” Danil realized.

  Arlyn laughed in delighted surprise. “What a fascinating magus you’d ma
ke! I indeed had to purge all sign of mage-crystals from my body before entering Amas—an uncomfortable process, I assure you. But now that that game is played, I am free to be my true self.”

  Behind her, a magus pressed the silver box to the charred remains of a bush. Red kiandrite funneled into the box. Magus Brianna watched on with the other magi as if the collection of red kiandrite was necessary before they journeyed down to the temple of Kaul.

  “Magus Brianna shouldn’t recall this place,” Danil said.

  Arlyn tilted her head. “The curse mysteriously lifted some days ago.” She smiled brightly. “Most fortuitous, considering my success with the feckless Amasian council.”

  Danil wondered if the breaking of Brianna’s enchantment coincided with his own unwilling acquisition of the glyph.

  The whispering of the leylines suddenly urgent.

  Hafryn trotted up beside him in his wolf form, bumping his shoulder against Danil’s hip.

  “Ah, your lover and—hello, Viren,” Arlyn said, as footsteps sounded behind Danil. “Has your vote made you regretful already?”

  Viren’s green eyes were bright as he paused a few feet away. “Nothing I’ve done has been in your favor, Arlyn. You’re not as clever as you think.” He turned slightly. “She’s stalling, custodian.”

  Danil could see that for himself. The magus with the silver box hurried amongst the burnt vegetation to harvest more of the death-tainted kiandrite.

  Flames shot up to block Danil’s path.

  “You’re already too late, traitor,” Arlyn growled, her hand raised. “The legacy of Kaul Mage-kin is upon us.”

  Viren appeared amused. “Always on about Kaul, you magi,” he tutted.

  The Eyrie councilor raised his hand, and suddenly a handful of owls dropped down behind the curtain of fire. They moved with deadly precision, cutting up two magi before the Roldaerians could move. Arlyn whirled, the fire dropping low in her surprise.

  It was Danil’s best opportunity. Sprinting with Hafryn at his side, he leaped into the fray. Hafryn knocked over Arlyn with bared teeth and claws, but Danil had eyes on the magus with the strange silver box. Dagger in hand, he drove the magus away from the charred vegetation.

  Viren must have shared his thoughts. A great red wolf barreled the magus over. Powerful jaws crunched down on the magus’ throat, and the silver box went flying to smash open upon the rocks at the edge of the pool.

  “No!” Arlyn cried.

  A crystal tumbled out, blood-red and angry. Danil rushed to grab it.

  The leylines shrieked in Danil’s mind.

  His fingertips barely brushed the crystal before Danil found himself…

  …Somewhere else.

  Thick smoke marred his vision. Danil coughed, lungs burning as he rose from his knees. A misshapen form emerged from the gloom, and Danil immediately recognized the horse-like body and blazing blue eyes. The Trueform shifted into a large man donning a black mantled helm and battle armor.

  “Kaul,” Danil managed.

  “Videre,” Kaul growled. His blue eyes were like ice. “You have prepared my lands well.”

  “Prepared—” Danil took a pace back. “Kailon isn’t yours,” he spat.

  Kaul smiled. “Its leylines guided you to my glyph.”

  Danil clenched his fist. The glyph produced a steady heat. “You’re wrong.”

  Kaul drew closer. “Let me show you its purpose.”

  The dreaded halfbreed was on him before Danil could lash out. Kaul slammed aside Danil’s dagger with frightening ease and snatched up his wrist. Danil wrenched hard, but Kaul had him in an unbreakable grip.

  Lip curling, Kaul used a taloned finger to trace the glyph on Danil’s palm. It awoke with a deep boom, flaring to match the bright red crystal about Kaul’s neck.

  Danil struggled to jerk loose as Kaul yanked the red crystal free. With sudden ferocity, Kaul stabbed Danil’s palm with the glowing red kiandrite.

  Danil screamed, tripping backward to hit the ground hard.

  The sound of battle suddenly rang about him.

  Thick smoke roiled about him.

  Hafryn was atop Arlyn, snapping and growling as the emissary fended him off with a dagger. Viren snarled, leaping over Danil to attack a magus attempting to build a wall of fire. The owls were spread through the grove, fighting more magi streaming down from the ridge.

  Danil rolled in agony to find the red crystal still lodged in his flesh. The skin about the kiandrite quickly turned black. Dizzy, he shakily rose to his knees and hugged his injured hand close to his chest.

  The leylines shrieked at him.

  He glanced up to see a void form in front of him, tinged with red.

  “Get back!” Viren roared. The owls took flight.

  Arlyn rolled to her feet, bloodied and triumphant. “Ha! Fall to your knees, Amasians!” she cried. “Kaul Mage-kin has returned!”

  Kaul stepped out of the void, wearing the very same battle armor as in the vision. A cloud of red kiandrite wrapped around him like a violent mantle.

  “Dread lord!”

  “Mage-kin!”

  More shouts rang about the grove.

  Danil scuttled back on his elbows, instinct driving him toward the pool. The leylines shouted at him, too fast and raging for him to discern the words.

  Venomous blue eyes glowed from beneath the helm as Kaul strode after him and dealt a tremendous kick that sent Danil flying. Danil tumbled and skidded wildly, coming to a stop at the edge of the pool. Blood flooded his mouth.

  A dark shadow moved over him, and he blindly lashed out. Another blow rocked him into the blackened stone.

  “Danil!” Hafryn roared in terror.

  A heavy knee forced Danil down. His eyesight cleared as Kaul loomed over him.

  “You have served me well, videre. I have one final task for you.” With a cruel sneer, the dread lord twisted the red crystal free from Danil’s hand.

  Danil screamed, thrashing to get loose.

  “Let us return this place to its true form.” Kaul raised the crystal with both hands over Danil’s body, his face a rictus of a snarl under the helm.

  Hafryn barreled into the dread lord, knocking Kaul sideways.

  Danil rolled as the crystal slammed down where his chest had been.

  The crystal shattered like glass, spilling red kiandrite across the rock. A fetid, rotten stench rose up as the ground turned black and molten.

  Kaul threw back his head and howled in fury at the loss of his quarry.

  Hafryn wheeled about to attack once again. Kaul easily blocked the first blow with his arm guard, his eyes glowing.

  “Move, fala!” Hafryn shouted as he danced away.

  Danil scrabbled backward, all but tumbling into the pool.

  The well seemed to reach out to him, calling. Danil glanced down to see that the fissure in the rock had blown wide open, the kiandrite moving about as if in its own current.

  Danil snatched his injured hand away.

  ‘No,’ it chimed. It called to him once again.

  Kaul must have heard. He brushed Hafryn off with a negligent blow and stalked to the water’s edge. His gaze settled on the iridescent kiandrite. “What gift do you present to me now, videre?”

  The liquid kiandrite trembled.

  Danil gathered his feet and clenched his fists. “Kailon is not yours,” he swore. “The leylines were never yours.”

  Smirking, Kaul stepped into the pool.

  Hafryn, face bloody, skittered to a halt at the banks. “Danil! Run!”

  A dragon’s terrible roar vibrated the air, and then golden talons raked across Kaul’s helm.

  The dread lord’s head snapped back from the force of the blow, and he bellowed his fury as Sonnen winged overhead.

  From the corner of his eye, Danil saw Elania and Blutark race down the ridge with a handful of enchanters. They stopped at the edge of the blackening evilness. They threw glyphs at the ground to no avail as a terrible sickness clawed toward them, leaving a path o
f rot and death.

  The molten blackness slithered across the grove. It consumed the last remnants of greenery, turning ferns, bracken, and budding seeds to ash. It grew stronger with every death. A handful of magi found themselves trapped amongst the jagged rocks as Kaul’s poisonous enchantment roiled towards them. A magus fell screaming as the ravening blackness devoured her.

  It’s the deadlands all over again, Danil realized in horror.

  Kaul threw his hands up and shouted unintelligible words. Molten earth shot skywards, and it took all of Sonnen’s skill to evade the deadly projectiles. Hafryn staggered as the ground bucked and the black enchantment snaked toward him.

  ‘Custodian,’ the liquid kiandrite called.

  Danil snapped his gaze to the water. The parchment floated to the surface and unfurled. The glyph, so like the one sitting damaged on his palm, took on an iridescent glow.

  ‘Complete the glyph.’

  He jolted, fearful of what such an undertaking would create. Already, the grove was falling under Kaul’s power and death magic.

  ‘We will never be Kaul’s,’ the kiandrite promised.

  It was enough. It had to be.

  Closing his eyes, Danil stretched his hand over the fissure and pulled.

  The liquid kiandrite rose up to swell around him.

  Kaul whirled. “What game do you play, videre?” he hissed.

  With a forceful breath, Danil pushed his senses outwards, ranging across the dying grove and beyond. The kiandrite tumbled after him, spreading across ravines and scree fields, into undulating basins and quiet gullies yet to be burned. They spun together in a dervish of swirls and hard lines, and Danil heard the kiandrite laugh.

  “What are you doing?” Kaul raged. He sloshed towards Danil, fists claw-like and reaching.

  Danil opened his eyes. His injured palm knitted together, and the red glyph loosened to take on new lines and swirls. Danil raised his hand, feeling the truth and rightness of the reborn glyph as power surged through him.

  Kaul took a step back in shock.

  “Kailon is free of you, Kaul,” Danil proclaimed. “And its glyph, which you tried so hard to warp to your bidding, is lost to you. The House of Kailon is yours no more.”