A brief quiet suddenly fell over the creatures. Something had shifted. Deathclaw didn’t know what it was, but the air itself felt somehow different. The moonrats and trolls froze, even the ones on fire. This paralysis lasted only a few seconds, but when it ended everything changed. The trolls and moonrats tore into each other. Only the closest few came at Deathclaw and he dispatched them quickly with explosive thrusts of his white-hot blade.
A thudding sound pulsed through the night air next and Deathclaw saw the bodies of moonrats flung through the air from the darkened forest before him. A guttural laugh rang out and the bulky form of Charz came into view. He had a slimy troll gripped in both hands. The crystal pendant around the giant’s neck swung as he raised the screeching beast over his head. It clawed at him with wicked talons, but they barely scratched his stony skin. He threw it into a burning patch of forest leaves where it immediately went up in flames.
An arrow cut through the night air, carrying the sound of a hissing snake and struck a nearby moonrat right in its glowing green eye. The rat fell over to be swarmed by its brethren and Sir Hilt ran into the fray, his twin blades dancing through the beasts, cutting them into neat pieces.
“Come, Deathclaw!” Beth’s voice said from the darkness and he could just make her out, standing between two thick trees. Her bow was held slack in one hand, her other hand clutching a low hanging branch to keep herself from falling over. “I have cut off her presence from this place for now, but she’s pressing me hard. We must get out of here before she . . . ugh, breaks through!”
Deathclaw ran to her, arriving just in time to cleave a troll that had been running towards her from behind. Its flaming pieces lit the forest beyond, setting fire to multiple troll trails that ran into the distance.
“Watch your surroundings!” he warned.
Beth gave him a weak grin. “I sensed it was there. And I knew you would get here first.” She glanced at Star gleaming in his hand. “Nice sword.”
“Charz!” Hilt shouted from behind them. Deathclaw turned to see him lop a moonrat’s head off. “Grab Beth and let’s go!”
“Fine,” Charz sighed and booted a moonrat aside on his way. He lifted Beth’s weary form in his arms and gave Deathclaw a shake of his head. “Nice job lighting the forest on fire, lizard. Now the witch has no doubt where we are.”
Deathclaw hissed back at him. This wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t wanted to rejoin them in the first place. The giant stomped into the forest and Deathclaw turned to see if Sir Hilt needed his assistance.
The named warrior danced through the confused enemy, striking with fierce precision, making slashing cuts far deeper than the blades of his swords should have allowed. The trolls and moonrats feasted on each other, but any that looked coherent enough to chase after Charz and Beth were sliced in two. Whenever Hilt came upon a small fire, he whipped a sword in its direction and a gust of air fanned the flames.
He glanced at Deathclaw. “Run with them! Charz can’t fight while he’s carrying her!”
Deathclaw nodded and darted after the giant. Once again, a human was telling him what to do. He knew that this fact should have bothered him more than it did, but perhaps he had gotten used to being a pack member instead of a pack leader. He narrowed his eyes at the thought.
He caught up to the giant quickly and ran beside him, Star’s blade held out far from his body. The blade still glowed white, though perhaps not as bright as it had been, and he didn’t know what to do with it. He was afraid that it would burn right through its sheath if he put it away.
He reached up with his free hand and grasped the tiny wood whistle hanging around his neck. Beth . . . are you ill, woman?
Just tired, came her mental reply. I’ve been using spirit magic almost nonstop since we assaulted the army this morning and I’m concerned that the mother of the moonrats is starting to figure me out. She grunted as Charz jumped over a downed tree. And this big oaf does not make a comfortable carriage.
He is hard, Deathclaw said, knowing that the human woman’s soft body would be bruised by the giant’s movements.
It’s not just that. It’s his soul. The poor dear is trying to change, but he has been such an awful thing for so long, he has a lot of regrets. Being this close to him just gives me a headache.
Changing . . . is not easy, Deathclaw said knowing the long path he was still on.
Don’t compare yourself to him, she sent. You were never evil. Just ignorant.
Deathclaw frowned as much as his scaly face would allow. How did she think she knew him so well after just a short few moments listening to his heart?
It’s part of my magic. It’s what a listener does, she replied to his unspoken thoughts.
Charz gave them both a wary glare. “Is she talking about me?”
“Oh don’t worry, you big boulder,” she grumped. “Try not to jostle me so much and I’ll stop griping.”
“Where are we going?” Deathclaw asked aloud.
“Out of this forest,” the giant replied.
We are retreating into the foothills of the mountains east of here, Beth sent. The further we are from the center of Mellinda’s activity, the easier it will be for me to keep us undetected.
But what does that matter? Deathclaw asked. The giant’s tracks will lead them right to us anyway.
No. Wizard Locksher gave us a solution to that problem before entering the portal, she explained. Look for yourself.
Deathclaw slowed down a bit and watched the trail that Charz left behind. There was barely a discernable trace of the giant’s heavy foot falls. With effort, he caused his sight to shift into mage sight as Justan had taught him and Deathclaw saw that the giant’s boots radiated an earthy blackness.
“His boots have a spell on them,” Beth said with a yawn. “Every footprint fills back in as soon as he steps out of it. It’s the rest of us that need to be careful.”
Deathclaw sent her a mental nod of understanding and altered his gait for stealth. What will we do once we have reached these mountains?
We scout, she said. The Mage School needs to know everything we can tell them about the forces besieging them.
Deathclaw ran alongside the giant, feeling unsettled. He looked at his sword and noticed that the blade’s glow had faded to its familiar dull shine. He slid it into its sheath over his shoulder. He felt a twinge of pain in his hand when he let go of the pommel and flexed his fingers. He hadn’t realized how tightly he had been holding onto it.
He looked at his hand and to his surprise, glowing in the center of his palm was a tiny rune in the shape of a star.
Chapter Seven
The witch! The witch had to die!
Across Dremaldria every moonrat let out a moan, echoing Mellinda’s rage. This had been a costly day. A disaster! Ewzad had decided to play it off as a victory, but he had been far too lighthearted since finding out the queen was pregnant with twins.
A third! Fully a third of her children had been destroyed when the academy exploded. Several of her servants called out to her at once, asking if they could aid her, but she just growled at them in reply. All their input was giving her a headache. Ewzad thought her affection for the moonrats was sentimentality on her part but it wasn’t. A small portion of her capacity for thought was stored in each living moonrat. She used their little brains to power her thought processes.
The day’s losses had already weakened her ability to think when Ewzad’s precious demon had set fire to her forest and killed over a hundred more of them. All in one day.
Mellinda hurt. Her very being hurt, but she could not let that slow her. Her own plans were still in motion. She just had to focus. Her children were multiplying faster than ever in their new breeding grounds. She would be able to replace the dead ones soon enough. Then all she had to do was wait for the new trait to emerge. One day soon a moonrat would be born with eyes of a new color. These new eyes would be more powerful than the orange. She could use them to transfer her mind to a new host and then be free t
o roam the lands again.
That would be her new beginning and it would come soon, she could feel it. The Dark Prophet had foretold her rebirth after all. But she needed to focus on the situation at hand. The academy was gone, but the Mage School remained. She had been ordered to assist Ewzad Vriil in his siege of the school, but Mellinda’s larger priority was ridding herself of certain enemies.
Some of them she had already marked for death, like the bonding wizard, Sir Edge, who had killed so many of her children, and the girl from Malaroo, the daughter of Xedrion bin Leeths. That girl had come quite close to learning her true name and even worse, the name given her by the Dark Bowl.
Other enemies needed to die because they were too dangerous; like Tamboor, the soulless man whom she had learned had been named earlier that day; or Master Latva, the head of the Mage School, who knew far too much about her. But all of those enemies were secondary to the witch.
Mellinda hadn’t understood at first how the human army had blocked her communications with her children in the area around the academy. She had been so distraught and frustrated and, most terrifying, blind during that attack. Then that night as her children were doing battle with Ewzad’s pet, it had happened again. Mellinda had felt out the presence and attacked and for a moment, a brief moment, she had broken through the barrier. In that moment, Mellinda had grasped a name. Beth.
Names were powerful things, but only if one had the information needed to make them useful. In her walking days, Mellinda remembered Beth being a fairly common name but that was hundreds of years ago. Now perhaps things were different.
She reached out to her servants within the school, but the ones she could reach had not heard of this Beth. Where had she come from? The prophet had forbidden the teaching of spirit magic long ago and yet this witch was skilled. And powerful. As powerful as any witch that had existed during Mellinda’s walking days. How had this woman become so good without being known?
Mellinda was also aware of her current limited reach. Perhaps this Beth wasn’t from Dremaldria. Where had the academy found her then? Malaroo, perhaps? Surely the people of her old homeland hadn’t completely forsaken spirit magic like Dremaldria. But then again, her people seemed to keep to themselves in Malaroo. She had learned that much while searching the girl Jhonate’s memories.
Mellinda reached out to Arcon. As she surged into his mind, the mage was busy overseeing the transfer of more beasts into Ewzad’s dungeons. He was directing those dirty dwarves as to where Ewzad wanted his new beasts placed.
“Arcon, dear?” she cooed.
The mage froze mid-gesture. Yes, Mistress?
“I wonder, have you heard of a woman by the name of Beth?”
Several, Mistress, he replied and she could tell that he was surprised at her kind temperament. There are two by that name here on Queen Elise’s staff as a matter of fact . . . Are you all right mistress?
Was she all right? He had evidently been monitoring her moods. Mellinda scowled. Her struggle with the witch had caused her to lower too many of her barriers. How many of her servants had heard her pain and fear? They could misunderstand that as weakness. Unacceptable!
In a fit of anger, she wrenched at Arcon’s pain centers, causing the mage to crumple to his knees. A blood vessel burst in his eye again and his heart pounded.
Will you kill me now, Mistress? He asked, his thoughts calm.
His response verged on insolence, but Mellinda reminded herself to be careful. She had come close to causing this one permanent damage on multiple occasions, and though he had deserved the punishment, Arcon was too valuable to throw away on a whim. He had a key seed inside of him after all.
She tried to make up for it by caressing his pleasure centers. “Please, my love, tell me more. Who are these Beths you speak of?”
Arcon responded by burying his emotions and relaying the things he could remember in a factual manner. Mellinda noticed him doing this quite often. It was a mental trick. He was hiding his resentments and rebellious thoughts somewhere deep within his mind. Sometimes she felt him retreat to this place when he thought she wasn’t paying attention and she knew he plotted in there. She would root this place out someday if she felt the need, but for now Mellinda put up with it. That little bit of freedom helped him cling to his sanity and she needed him capable.
He told her of different women named Beth he had met through the years, yet none of them were of any consequence. The mage’s words rang true. He knew nothing of use. The girls he knew were just girls. She stroked the pleasure centers of his mind once again as a reward and let him be as she searched further among her servants. Mellinda grew more and more frustrated as each servant proved worthless. She went through them all, cutting off their communication as soon as she was sure they knew nothing. Finally there was one left. She let out a mental sigh. He was the one she hated visiting with the most.
Ewzad Vriil was in his laboratory, already playing with his new toys. Mellinda monitored his thoughts for a moment, knowing he was too focused to be aware of her presence. These six raptoids were fine specimens. The dwarves had managed to bring them all the way from the Whitebridge Desert virtually unharmed.
Ewzad had already transformed them into basic humanoid shapes as he had done with Deathclaw and Talon. He had learned much since his first encounter with raptoids and this time not one of them had died. They were paralyzed and strapped down on tables as a precaution and now he was deciding how to further modify them. As she observed, he was walking between them, giggling over the possibilities.
This was the one side of Ewzad Vriil that Mellinda identified with; the joy his creations brought him. Unfortunately, he often became so preoccupied with these toys that he forgot to look at the big picture. As it was, the lands were in chaos but he was not prepared to strike.
“And why are you so disapproving, Mellinda? Hmm?” he asked out of hand.
How did he-?
“Know you were there?” he finished. “My-my! I am not so foolish as you think me to be, no. You are not the only one able to ponder multiple things at once.”
She refocused and hid her thoughts from him.
He gave her an exaggerated roll of his eyes. “Well? Tell me then, silent one. Are you not so wounded as you appeared earlier? Hmm?”
“It is difficult, I admit,” she said. “As for why I am here, there was another incident.”
“Oh? So soon?” Ewzad clicked his tongue as he reached out with wavery fingers, making small modifications to the raptoid before him. This one was female from the way he had accentuated her form. “My-my, what is it now?”
“Your runaway dragon, Deathclaw,” she said. “He appeared in the outskirts of the forest tonight. He did battle with my children.”
He was quite delighted, “Oh! And from your tone, dear Mellinda, I take it you were not able to destroy him?”
“No, Master,” she said with distaste. How she hated calling him that. “He had a strange sword with him. He set fire to the forest in his bid to escape.”
“Ha! Indeed! Yes-yes, how wonderful!” He reached out towards the female raptoid and stroked his fingers downwards causing flaps of flesh to grow over her mouth. The flaps began to take on the form of lips. “And just how many of your sweet children did he kill in this . . . escape bid?”
“Too many,” she replied, the words tasting sour in her mind. She could feel the smile on his face and wished she could make him reach up and tear it off.
“Ah, too bad. You do realize though, dear Mellinda, that if you had destroyed him, I would be quite upset with you. Quite upset indeed, don’t you think?”
“I was prepared to face your wrath if he had died, Master.” she said sweetly. “But my intention was merely to wound him enough to subdue him.”
“Oh? And you were going to bring him to me, dear Mellinda?” he asked, busily fluffing out and darkening clusters of scales above the raptoid’s eyes, giving them the appearance of eyebrows.
“But of course,” she lied. Th
e trolls would have dragged him to her and she would have placed a sweet present deep within his breast. His bonding wizard would have had quite a surprise waiting the next time he tried to contact the raptoid. It was still her plan. If she had the chance to capture him again. “Alas, he had help getting away.”
“My-my, his new master was there with him, was he?” Ewzad said and the smile died on his lips momentarily. He hadn’t liked learning that Deathclaw had bonded with Sir Edge. Now Ewzad wanted that man dead as badly as she did.
“No, it was someone else. A witch helped him escape and a powerful one at that. It was the same witch that disrupted my thoughts during the battle for the academy. I should have recognized it before,” Mellinda admitted.
“Indeed. A witch you say?” He paused for a moment and she could sense him communicating with the past Envakfeers. For some reason she didn’t quite understand, she could never quite make out the words they said to him and, unlike when he spoke to her, he kept his conversations with them silent. When he had finished, Ewzad’s smile returned, but there was no mirth behind it. “This must have been a powerful witch to overpower you, sweet Mellinda. Don’t you think?”
“Very,” she agreed. “Yet this time I was able to break through just long enough to ascertain the witch’s name. It is Beth.”
“Hmm . . . Beth, you say? Beth . . .” The wizard’s eyes widened, then narrowed with uncertainty. He kept his feelings silent. “No. Means nothing to me. Still, you should hunt this witch down, don’t you think? Yes-yes, she must be destroyed and soon so she does not harm our plans further.”
“Of course, Master,” The fool! Like she didn’t know this already. She wondered at his brief uncertainty. Did he know something? Was he holding back some important bit of information?
“And what of my sweet Talon? Have you heard from her?” Ewzad had already returned his attention to the raptoids strapped to the tables in front of him. One of the males began to twitch and he froze it again, this time with a more intense spell.
The Bowl of Souls: Book 05 - Mother of the Moonrat Page 10