The Warrior Mage (The Lost Prophecy Book 2)

by D. K. Holmberg

  Too many!

  A moment of hopelessness overcame her, but a sound in the night, distinct from that of their battle, startled her from those desperate thoughts.

  A braying sound, that of dogs or wolves, howled and rang in the darkness.

  She shivered at the sound, feeling a different fear. At the same time, the ferocity of the attack increased, and she had to focus more intently on the three creatures suddenly before her. A hard mental push, forcing her focus into the open part of her mind where her abilities resided, left her with a stabbing headache and increased focus and let her dispatch those three quickly.

  Another chorus of howls broke through the din of the battle.

  Hair stood up on her neck. These were closer. And louder. The cries were urgent and braying, and her heart pounded harder each time she heard them.

  “What is that?” someone yelled.

  She didn’t know. Could it be that these creatures had some evil companions? From the sounds of the cries, there was more than one.

  Roelle took down two more of the creatures and paused long enough to look around. There were still too many around them and more kept coming over the wall. How many were there? Could they hold?

  Not if they had to face something else as well.

  “Push!” she hollered, trying to strengthen those fighting.

  It seemed to work. The creatures were slowly pushed back, inch by inch, and the inky clambering over the wall seemed to slow. Gray corpses were everywhere, and somehow the warriors fought on.

  The haunting howl grew closer, and the creatures seemed to fight with an increased, furious energy, baring their teeth, claws flailing.

  Suddenly, flashes of dark fur flew through the air, leaping over the wall and landing among the clouds of dust, clearly having no issue seeing the creatures. Nearly ten in all, these beasts were the size of a small horse, with the frame of a panther or lion, ferocious intensity in their eyes. The largest of them roared, a terrifying sound, and they all moved gracefully, stalking the groeliin before attacking and tearing at them with a manic intensity.

  “They fight with us!” Selton hollered.

  The warriors’ apparent allies quickly took out twice their number of groeliin. The Magi pushed forward, attacking as well, and between them and the cats, the creatures were brought down.

  Roelle looked around, amazed.

  There were more dead creatures than she could easily count. She saw a few of her Magi injured or dead among them, but none of the cats were injured.

  How?

  A loud whistle cut through the night, and the largest cat roared again before leaping off, the others quickly following.

  The night fell into silence. Only Roelle’s heavy breathing broke the silence. Around her the others stood stunned and exhausted. No one spoke.

  “What were those?” she asked aloud, not expecting an answer. Her voice was breathy and barely more than a croak. Somehow, it echoed in the night.

  A voice from the other side of the wall startled Roelle.

  “Those,” a deep voice said, “are the merahl.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Jakob was unsure where he was when he first awoke. He remembered the forest, but this wasn’t the forest. He was in a strange room. Light filtered in through a small hole in the wall, and a low, translucent haze hung in the air. There was a familiar scent in the air, one of flowers mixed with earthy undertones, and he was comforted by it. Jakob stretched, pulling tension from his arms and legs, feeling the muscles ease as he did, and he suddenly remembered.

  They had feasted, dining on food unlike anything Jakob had ever tasted, listening to rhythmic music. There had been more, but most of it was a blur, and he struggled to remember.

  The thick carpet of grass that covered the floor pulled at him, seductively dragging him back toward sleep. He resisted the urge and stood, shifting his sword where it had remained attached while he’d slept, and the slow pulsing in his mind returned. There was a buzzing, almost a quiet humming, that he sensed around him, and he could see the haze around everything.

  Jakob had to duck to keep from hitting his head on the low ceiling of the strange room as he stood. That helped his memory a bit as he recalled one of the daneamiin escorting him up the inside of a tree. Through the open doorway, a small landing gave view of the narrow staircase winding its way both upward and downward. He saw nothing in the darkness above him, only the stairs spiraling higher and higher. He chose to go down. Walking carefully down the steps, he ran his hand along the wall, finding it smooth.

  Jakob reached the bottom of the stairs, at the base of the tree, and bright light streamed in through the small arch. He had to duck to get out and into the light of the day. Many daneamiin wandered about the clearing, and the huge building in the center was especially abuzz. The daneamiin moving around the enormous structure seemed to blink in and out of sight, as if they were disappearing and reappearing.

  It was not only in the clearing where the daneamiin wandered. Overhead, others moved along the rope walkways connecting the trees, strolling casually. Others were even higher still, walking along the branches themselves. Each movement shimmered as they flickered along their path. Jakob could not help but stare.

  A light touch on the back of his arm caused him to spin quickly. The daneamiin he had met the night before, Anda, stood before him. She was tall, at least four fingers taller than he was, yet carried herself gracefully and did not seem to tower over him.

  “Anda,” he said as he hid his surprise at how quietly she had come up on him.

  She nodded, the top of her hairless head tilting toward him in reply. She blinked briefly, her strangely exotic eyes closing almost like curtains, and then smiled. It spread to her eyes, and Jakob found himself smiling back at her.

  “Did you find your sleep restful, Jakob Nialsen?” Her voice was soft and sweet with a tone and an accent that tugged at him the way the ahmaean did.

  He nodded. It had been restful, perhaps more than any sleep he had ever known. And dreamless. His sleep had been fitful lately, dreams of fiery eyes and the goddesses haunting him at night. “It was. Thank you.”

  “Thanks are not needed.” She stepped away from beside the tree, where it looked like she had been waiting for him to wake. Motioning to him with a long, slender finger, she said, “Come, you will have a busy day. Cleanse yourself before you start it.”

  She led him into the forest, through the trees and on a winding route. All along, ahmaean surrounded everything. He soon lost his sense of direction and couldn’t tell which way they had come. As he looked behind him, he couldn’t even see his footprints. The more he tried, the more confused he became.

  Above them were still a few of the tree structures, though he was unable to see any of the rope bridges connecting them. He wondered if the trees in this part of the forest grew close enough together that the bridges weren’t needed. He couldn’t tell and couldn’t see any daneamiin moving above him, only an occasional glimpse of their buildings, all leafy green and blending with the trees. Ahmaean surrounded everything in the trees too.

  Finally, they reached a large pond with trees growing by the edge of the water, casting shade over its surface. Bright flowers also grew at the water’s edge, with small insects hovering over them. Some sunlight streamed down, giving a little light to the water. Anda nodded toward the pond. He began to undress, and Anda moved to a nearby tree and averted her gaze. As he stepped into the water, he found it to be incredibly warm, and his skin tingled as if bubbles burst along his flesh.

  “Are you going to bathe?” he called out to Anda who still stood near the tree, though her gaze was no longer averted.

  “I have already, Jakob Nialsen.”

  He ducked fully beneath the surface, feeling the warm tingling the skin on his face and neck, before emerging once again. The water refreshed him. He let the silence of the forest surround him as he scrubbed himself. Anda seemed content with the silence. He sighed as a feeling of relaxation mo
ved through him.

  After relaxing a while, he opened his eyes to see Anda watching him. “Why do the daneamiin live in the trees?” he asked.

  She stepped away from the trees and closer toward the water’s edge. Slowly, she eased herself to a sitting position and let her bare toes just dip into the water. “The trees allow us to live with them.”

  He laughed lightly, feeling a little strange. “Why do you want to?”

  A confused look crept across her face. “Why do your people choose to tear down the trees only to build something less than what was?”

  He had no response. He watched her slender toes as they traced a strange design in the water. The movement was casually deliberate.

  After a long pause, she spoke again. “You have seen the groeliin?” Seeing his face, she continued. “Yes, I thought that you had.” She stared at him a moment, her large dark eyes holding his gaze. “They came into our lands long ago. We hid from them by staying within the trees. Still, they destroyed much.”

  “You didn’t fight back?”

  She shook her head slowly. “Your kind always rushes to violence,” she began. It was a gentle admonition. “No, we could not destroy the groeliin. Our doing so would only damage the Maker.”

  “Sometimes, fighting is the only way to prevent more fighting.”

  “Another of your kind told us the same thing,” she said softly. “Yet, it has changed little.”

  Jakob didn’t know what to say. She obviously thought very little of his kind. How many other daneamiin thought the same way?

  “Why did they leave, then?”

  “They didn’t, not really. They live on violence, and we live in peace. The trees protected us,” she said before falling silent.

  The groeliin did not seem as if they would simply leave because there was nothing to destroy. He knew little about them, could not even guess their motivation, but that seemed unlikely.

  “Are you cleansed?” she asked, breaking into his thoughts.

  He nodded.

  “We must prepare then,” she told him.

  “To where?” he asked, beginning to move toward the edge of the pond.

  “You meet with the Cala maah today,” she answered.

  He mouthed the words, and they did not come off his tongue easily, yet reminded him of the ancient language. “What is the Cala maah?”

  She paused to think. “The Cala maah guide us,” she answered, turning away as he got out of the water. “We are to see them once you have been cleansed.”

  Anda guided him to the edge of the forest. “I will see if the Cala maah are ready for you. When they are ready, I will find you.”

  As she went toward the clearing, he wandered off on his own. He wanted to see the daneamiin city, but he decided to explore the forest—and the ahmaean he saw within it—a bit more.

  The canopy of the massive trees blocked the sunlight and the forest had a muted sound. There was the occasional rustling of leaves as a breeze blew through, as well as the chirping of birds, and every so often, a scurrying sound as something made its way across the tree branches. A few insects buzzed nearby, but none of them bit him. The air had that familiar fragrance to it, one of flowers and fruit and leaves, a sweet and pleasant aroma.

  This was the first time he’d been alone since coming to this place. His mind swam with what he had seen, barely able to take it all in. For so long, he’d dreamed of adventure like those told in Jarren Gildeun’s stories, and now he was here, beyond the Great Valley, where even he had never reached.

  Still… he worried about the purpose here. They brought the trunk, but after all that was lost to get it here, it held only a few small stones. What did those have to do with anything? What help would they provide?

  And now he was so far away from everything and everyone he knew. The fear that he was going mad had faded, replaced with overwhelming sense of surprise… and worry about the changes that had occurred within him, changes he had no answers for. Brohmin and Salindra both seemed to be better equipped for this.

  Then there were the daneamiin. Though exotic and interesting, he still wasn't certain what to make of them. They reminded him of the Magi, the sense of power they seemed to command, but in other ways, they were entirely different. There was a peace about them. A sense of calmness the Magi he’d met did not possess.

  Jakob felt that being here, staying with the trees, within the forest, away from the rest of the world, protected him from Deshmahne and from the groeliin—the creatures out of a nightmare—but was that what he was meant to do?

  Jakob didn't know.

  He had completed the mission Novan and Endric had given him. He brought the trunk north. What now for him?

  Was he meant to return to Novan? Was he meant to stay apprenticed to the historian and serve under him? Would that be enough anymore?

  Novan would be disappointed to know that he hadn't documented what he'd seen very well. Much of what Jakob had done, the way that he’d intervened, would have disappointed the historian. What would Novan have thought about coming east of the Great Valley? What questions would he have for the daneamiin? That Jakob didn’t even know what questions to ask told him that he wouldn’t make a very good historian.

  Jakob turned back toward the daneamiin city, marveling at the size and scope and the way it integrated into the forest. But even here, where he thought he was alone, there was a sense of eyes upon him.

  Though he enjoyed the peace and serenity he found in the forest, he found himself not wanting to be away from the beauty of the city any longer than necessary. How long had it been since he had known the sort of relaxation that he felt while here?

  He sighed. It felt calming. All of his fears, worries, and regrets—what might happen to his brother still within the santrium, the loss of his parents, his worry for his friend Braden who had joined the Denraen—all of that faded away within the forest.

  It was a sense of calm he wanted to keep, but that meant staying here, and Jakob knew that wasn't possible. He didn't know what he was destined to do, but he couldn't remain here. This was not his home.

  Waiting for Anda, he sat on a boulder where he could look at the city. He leaned forward and thought he caught a glimpse of a pair of golden eyes, but when he turned, they were gone. It must have been his imagination.

  He blinked slowly, fatigue threatening him, when he sensed of movement.

  It reminded him of the sense of movement he had when dreaming at the heart of the Great Forest, or even the strange vision he’d had as they neared Avaneam when the spear pierced his shoulder. Much like then, he saw the same energy, that which the daneamiin called ahmaean, swirling around everything. It was a translucent sort of energy, one that faded when he wasn't paying attention to it, but became more apparent when he did.

  He blinked again, and felt a part of his mind shift.

  It was a sensation he'd felt several times, one that he had once attributed to the madness, but that couldn't be what it was at all. Whatever he experienced was something else. Jakob didn't know what was happening to him, only that whatever it was meant he had abilities he shouldn’t have.

  Perhaps Brohmin might have answers—if he was willing to offer them. Maybe Novan would if he could rejoin him. More than anything else, that would be reason enough to find the historian again.

  He blinked again, and there was another sense of shifting.

  Was it his imagination, or did the forest grow thicker?

  Not just thicker, but the light that filtered through the trees did so with less intensity.

  Jakob frowned and started to stand, but his legs didn't carry him.

  He blinked again. This time when he opened them, there was a sort of darkness around him. The forest had faded, as if he’d wandered into some darker part of it.

  Jakob blinked again.

  When he opened his eyes this time, he saw three distinct points of light. They were like candles, or flames flickering, but why would that be in the forest?

  A
vision. He was having a waking vision.

  What did that mean for him?

  He felt incredible power near him, and he strained, trying to see through the darkness but struggled to do so. Near the flickering candles, he thought he had a sense of something, a presence, and one that he had known before. There was warmth to it… but something else.

  Pain.

  As he stared, there was a flickering.

  Creatures appeared, one at each flame, looking like some massive version of the groeliin. These were different. Powerful.

  In the vision, they turned their attention to him, and he wanted to get away, but his body didn’t move. He could feel the power that built from them, a dark energy he couldn’t see but felt. Thick ahmaean swirled and he shivered.

  His throat was dry and he blinked.

  This time, he was certain there was movement. This time, he knew he traveled as he shifted, as his mind moved.

  How was that possible?

  What was happening to him?

  He blinked again. The forest began to reappear.

  Jakob took a deep breath, blinking rapidly, and as he did, and his mind seemed to settle back into place, returning to normal. As it did, he realized he was back in the forest. He was safe.

  His heart still hammered.

  He might be safe, but whatever that presence was—that warmth that he detected—in his vision wasn’t safe.

  Was it the goddess?

  Jakob stood with a start. The Cala maah might be waiting for him, but he needed to find Brohmin.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Salindra walked through the huge clearing. She had never seen anything quite like the structure at the center of it all. Grass, trees, and stone all blended into an enormous structure. With a massive tree at the center of all of it!

  There was much about this land she found difficult to believe. The Council would be amazed the land was inhabitable, let alone that a whole race of people lived here. That she had traveled here at all seemed beyond impossible, yet Brohmin had shrugged it off, as if he had been here before. She shook her head at the thought.