Mortiswood: Kaelia Falling (Mortiswood Tales Book 2)

by Gina Dickerson

  Hel raised her hands, tapping the tips of talons from one hand against the other. ‘Very well, I will tell you why I stole you, Dark One, but that is all. You are half of the key to releasing my brother Vanagandr, making you precious to me.’

  ‘You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know. Is that the only reason you stole me away?’

  ‘Is it not reason enough?’ Hel loomed over Bran, resting her talon-tipped fingers on the slinky line of her hips.

  Through gritted teeth Bran said, ‘What is my mother? You didn’t answer my question fully. You want me to do your bidding; can you not answer my questions in return? My whole life you have pushed aside my questions and I have been too weak to stand up to you. Well, not now. Now I demand answers. I’m sick of your lies. You either tell me the truth or I won’t do as you want.’

  Hel laughed. ‘Nephew, you are finally showing to me the spine you show to others so well. Bring me Kaelia and I will tell you all you desire to know.’

  ‘And Rosalie, you will release her?’

  ‘Once you and The Chosen One have broken Vanagandr’s binds.’ Hel nodded. ‘Turn so I can heal your wounds. I know they are still hurting you, I see the pain on your face no matter if you try to hide it. Do not forget I raised you, I have known you your whole life.’

  Bran eyed her warily.

  ‘You have my word I will heal and nothing more.’

  Bran turned and Hel ran a finger over the wounds she had inflicted upon his back, making him squirm.

  ‘The wounds are not as wide as I had imagined,’ Hel said. ‘You may be correct, perchance you are stronger than I credit.’

  Bran kept his mouth shut; there was no way he was telling Hel the wounds had begun to heal when he and Rosalie had sung together. That was some freaky shit. He shivered, first with pain, and then with relief. He stretched his shoulder experimentally. Nothing. It was as if the fight had never happened.

  ‘If I do bring Kaelia to you, will I be free to meet my mother?’ he asked.

  Hel slunk around him and tapped her teeth with her finger. A dark shadow crawled over her face, pronouncing her beautiful yet evil features. ‘I will never allow it. I am your family as you are mine. I will not give you up, Dark One.’

  Bran’s face tightened. A muscle in his jaw popped.

  Hel waggled a finger. ‘If you dare say you are not my family I will never release Rosalie, you have my word on that.’

  ‘You will, once I have joined with Kaelia and released Vanagandr. She doesn’t even know the two of us are needed to release the beast, as long as she thinks it is her touch alone needed to free him, I have an advantage. All I need to do is find where Vanagandr is imprisoned and have her close enough so I can grab her hand and make her touch the wolf with me. When that time comes it will be you who owes me.’

  ‘And when such a time arrives, Nephew, you will not abandon me. You will not be able to resist the lure of the power I can provide you once my brother is free. You will be thankful I consider you family. You will appreciate what a gift it is to be in my favour.’

  Bran laughed hollowly. ‘A gift? Being in your favour is my curse!’

  * * *

  Chapter Two

  Mortiswood

  The motorbike juddered. Calix tapped the fuel gauge. Damn, it was running on empty. Mortiswood loomed ahead, its trees cutting an irregular shadow into the sapphire, night sky. Calix switched off the engine, jumped from the bike, and pushed it to the side of the road. Tearing the motorbike helmet from his head, he ruffled his pale blond hair and hung the helmet over his wrist before pushing the bike to the trees. Branches scratched at his arms and caught on his jacket sleeves, making it exhaustive work as he forced the motorbike through the foliage.

  After struggling for five minutes he paused, pulling at the neck of his t-shirt which was growing damper with sweat each passing moment. The cotton material clung to his tanned chest, emphasising the swell of his muscles. Why was it so hot? Why was he wearing a leather jacket? Cor, he hadn’t caught something when that female Draugr had attacked him, had he? What he wouldn’t give for a breeze. He gulped back sadness. A breeze generated by a gorgeous, albeit stroppy, Sifar would be perfect right now. The thought of Cadence spurred him on and he shoved the machine into the close-knitted trees to camouflage it, glad to be rid of the cumbersome burden.

  Why had Cadence given in so easily to Thom’s seduction? Hadn’t she even thought he, Calix, would go after her to try to save her? He sighed. Even dying for her and sneaking into the Draugr’s realm as a spirit hadn’t been enough to stop her from rolling over to Thom. Would she thank him for sending her back into her own body and living as a mortal again? Would she want him, or Thom?

  Calix knew he was on the opposite side of the woods to where Jade was keeping watch over Cadence’s body. Hopefully it would not be too far on foot until he reached the castle with the growing Rosealrium blooms he needed to use to save Cadence from turning into a Draugr. It doesn’t matter, all that matters is trying to save her. Even if she ended up slapping him once she was back in her own body. How could Cadence want to spend an eternity with Thom? A word filled his head. Immortality. Cadence wanted to be immortal. What would he have done faced with the same offer? He rubbed his eyes; it wasn’t even worth thinking about.

  The canopy of the trees swayed with the welcome breath of the night, cooling Calix. He laughed; perhaps luck was on his side after all. Between the leaves stars twinkled brightly in the cloudless sky. An unearthly screech spliced the forest. Trees trembled, the breeze whipped up, bending treetops in its wake. Calix shuddered, his damp t-shirt sticking coldly to his chest. By a sixth sense, hairs on his head stood up on end. Whatever was generating a wind strong enough to bow trees definitely wasn’t human. There were two who Calix guessed could wield such power to make trees bend. Thom and Jade. Cadence could have, if she weren’t a spirit being held in hostage, for her own safety, inside Jade’s body. Considering Jade was inside a protective sphere awaiting his return with a Rosealrium bloom, it only left Thom able to whip up such a wind.

  A rotten smell floated on the air, a mix of fusty foliage heavily scented with an unmistakable stench. Calix twisted his rucksack around so he could reach into it and yanked out the small torch he had brought with him from Mortiswood Academy. He could not help his hands from shaking. Alone, he was no match for Thom, a Draugr. The Draugr. He was merely a human physician with a torch. He may as well be holding a lollipop.

  * * *

  At the top of a nearby tree, a dark shape shifted and Thom gleefully rubbed his pale-blue skinned hands together. His long, black ponytail swished down the length of his back in the manner of an angry snake. His thoughts filled with Kaelia and the way she had choked under his spell. When she had broken into tears, the tiny droplets had been the perfect vessels for carrying his spell inside her. He had not even needed to be near her. It had only taken one tear. One tiny, cursed tear had been all that was needed to send her falling into darkness. The moment the tear had slipped between her lips Kaelia was lost. At his mercy. Now all he had to do was to wait until the human physician stumbled across her, thereby deviating from his task of finding a Rosealrium bloom. The human could not very well abandon The Chosen One in favour of saving an already dead Sifar. Cadence would be his. She would be his wife, his Draugr bride and no-one would stop them from uniting and creating more Draugar together.

  ‘I have won this fight, Kaelia,’ he chuckled to himself, his voice clipped and the word “won” sounding as if it began with the letter “v”. ‘My Sleeping Death spell will delay the human physician long enough to allow me to claim Cadence as mine. It will be too late to stop her transition by the time the human fool works out how to awaken you!’

  Within a cloud of pungent smoke Thom juddered to form the shape of a grotesque bird with wings of stripped bone and torn feathers. Red beady eyes glinted from above a blackened beak. He screeched, the eerie sound piercing into the night sky. Sweeping across the sky, treetops bowed
with the beat of his enormous wings. On the other side of the woods the sphere of protection encasing an exhausted Jade glimmered brightly to Thom’s hawkish eyes. He covered the distance in barely any time at all and plummeted to the ground, twisting and juddering back into Draugr during the descent. He landed with a loud thud, causing the earth to tremble. Thom approached the sphere surrounding Jade, and Cadence’s dead body, and tapped it with the tip of a dark-blue pointed fingernail. A faint crack appeared in the sphere and although the translucent sphere was magical and still holding up, Thom’s eyes lit up.

  ‘Wakey, wakey,’ he teased, licking his lips. ‘I am about to blow your house down.’ His own words made him howl with grating laughter. ‘You will be my piggy and I will enjoy eating you.’

  Jade screamed as Thom tapped the sphere again and the crack spread and through it wafted the unmistakable stench of the Draugr.

  * * *

  The torch beam was pale and thin. Calix slapped the side of the torch, hoping the action would evoke a surge of power from the failing batteries. The beam flickered and went out completely. Calix slapped it again and it reluctantly shuddered into life. Reflective eyes glimmered in the undergrowth and a deep growl rumbled. Calix stiffened. Heavy paws padded into the shaky circle of his torch’s light and Calix allowed himself a small sigh of relief. The Vallesm’s coat was longer, the fur thicker, and the creature even larger than when he last laid eyes upon it but Calix knew it was the same wolf. Kaelia’s wolf.

  ‘Where is she?’ Calix mentally slapped himself for talking to the Vallesm as if it understood.

  The Vallesm’s eyes narrowed and it dipped its head before turning with a flick of its tail. Calix had to run to keep up with the creature, the beam of his torch reaching the billowing white tip of the wolf’s tail as it loped ahead.

  Tree roots, which some twenty minutes ago had seemed innocuous, slithered up to meet Calix’s feet, forming twisting gnarled obstacles to trip him at every turn. Fierce bracken clawed at his jeans, snagging on the material so forcefully Calix thought it was acting against him. He shook his head to clear such thoughts. It was a forest, full of roots and undergrowth, it was not out to personally attack him...was it? Brambles sprang up out of nowhere, their spikes snapping at Calix’s ankles. He managed to steady himself and jumped up and over tentacles of undergrowth. As his feet hit the ground a bramble rose and wrapped around his right ankle like an ankle-cuff. He side-stepped, as much as was possible with one leg already caught, narrowly escaping another vine reaching for his other leg. He moved backwards slightly and so did the creeping bramble. Using both hands he hastily tugged at his right leg. The bramble clung on tight and the more he pulled, the tighter the bramble bit. The other bramble snaked towards his free foot and he stamped on it, trapping the writhing vine beneath his boot. The bramble squirmed under his sole and slithered up and over the toe of his boot.

  The Vallesm growled. In one bound it was beside Calix, making him aware how the level of the wolf’s head was the same height as his torso.

  ‘Wait!’ Calix screamed, holding both hands out as the Vallesm lowered its head to his ankle. Panic prickled beads of sweat across his whole body. ‘Don’t bite my leg off, I can do it...I mean, I can free myself!’

  Calix steeled himself to reach down and grab the bramble with his bare hands, but before he could move the wolf tore the bramble off his leg with its teeth. Spitting out the spiky brambles, ribbons of blood ran through saliva dribbling from the Vallesm’s jaws. The bitten bramble writhed and thrashed for a few seconds, before withering into a dried stick.

  Calix patted his leg down and exhaled in relief. His jeans were torn at the ankle but it was a small price to pay for keeping his leg. The Vallesm shook its head before sauntering off, and looking back over its withers at Calix. Jumping over the brambles, Calix hurried after the wolf.

  After running for a further five minutes, the Vallesm slowed, shaking to dislodge dried pieces of foliage which had collected on its fur along the way. Calix, puffing more than the wolf, spun around. How far had they come? Where were they and how would he ever find the castle with the Rosealrium blooms now? Following the Vallesm, he half scrabbled, half slid down a dry slope into a hollow. The trees were sparser here, allowing moonlight to bathe the hollow in a silvery sheen, illuminating the sprawled figure of someone Calix knew well. He froze.

  ‘Kaelia?’

  Her long curls were fanned to one side of her head, bright against the woodland floor. Her pale, freckled cheek rested against dried leaves. Even from where he stood Calix could see her hands were stained red and there were crimson patches on the knees of her jeans. Standing over her, the Vallesm tipped its head back and howled.

  Calix rubbed his eyes. Was he dreaming? ‘No,’ he whispered, properly focussing his corn-flower blue eyes.

  Panic swept him along, picking him up when he tripped over yet another bramble. Falling to his knees beside Kaelia, he smoothed her burnt-copper hair from her eyes. His lips froze as he kissed the smooth skin above her eyebrows. She was ice-cold. Terrified, Calix tried to shake her, recoiling in horror. He could well have been trying to move a stone statue.

  He noticed the dark overcoat swathing Kaelia’s slender frame, it was undone and bunched in what looked an uncomfortable lump beneath her. He frowned, knowing whose coat it was but why was Kaelia wearing Bran’s coat?

  ‘Bran?’ he called. ‘Are you out there?’

  There was no answer.

  He wondered if this was one of the necromancer’s tricks. ‘Come on, Bran, if you’re out there, you’ve won.’ The next words hurt him to say. ‘I admit I need your help.’

  The only answer was the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze.

  The Vallesm, sat on the opposite side of Kaelia, slowly moved its head close to Calix’s, keeping its amber eyes fixed upon his every move. Calix shifted uncomfortably, the wolf’s breath steaming his face. Calix pressed his fingers against Kaelia’s wrist, frowned, and tried another spot further up. Her arm was so firm, so cold, he was unable to detect a pulse. Carefully, he peeled back the layers of Bran’s coat, then Kaelia’s own leather jacket and pressed an ear to her jumper covered chest. Hope dared to lift his spirit; there was an echo of a heartbeat. It was ghostly but enough. It had to be enough.

  The rope straps of his bag burnt his fingers in his haste to confer with his book of self-scribbled notes. Impatiently, he dragged the book out, catching its sharp corners on the thin material of the bag. Fumbling, suddenly all thumbs and no fingers, Calix flicked over page after page hoping to find something to give him a clue as to how to help Kaelia. He pulled at his hair. Why didn’t he know what was wrong with her? Damn it, he should know. He should be able to tell just by looking at her. He swallowed. His dad would’ve known with one glance. So would he if his father had been around to pass on his knowledge.

  Tears pricked the back of his eyelids. How would he find The Salloki and stand a chance of rescuing his father from them if he couldn’t even heal Kaelia? He blushed. How selfish of him, instead of worrying about his father he should be more concerned about The Salloki being stopped, full stop.

  The Vallesm growled, breaking Calix’s thoughts. ‘Okay, okay, I’m thinking.’ Hurriedly returning his attention to the book, he took up where he had left off. ‘Don’t bug me, you’ll make me nervous and it’ll take me longer.’

  After turning several more pages he thumped the air, thankful he had taken the time to compile the notes in the first place. The hours, no weeks, spent poring over the books in Mortiswood Academy would all have been worth it, if he was right.

  ‘A Sleeping Death spell,’ he said, both to himself and the wolf. ‘It must be.’

  From its guarding position over him and Kaelia, the Vallesm snarled, lifting its head to gaze up at the tree canopies. Calix instantly knew. An icy stab pierced at him. He didn’t need the wolf to be able to talk. He could read it within the creature’s eyes. His nose twitched. Why hadn’t he realised something was up when he had detecte
d the smell earlier? It was faint but the unmistakable scent of eau-de-Draugr still loitered on the breeze. If his human nose could recognise it and the Draugr was nowhere to be seen, it must mean the latter had only passed by recently.

  ‘Thom,’ Calix said to the Vallesm. ‘This is the Draugr’s work. He’s done it to delay me from finding a Rosealrium bloom so he can claim Cadence and finish her transformation into a Draugr. He must’ve known the Draugr puppet he sent to kill me failed. I won’t let him get the better of me.’ He smiled down at Kaelia. ‘Or of Kaelia.’

  He tapped the page of his book. He had a small vial of base oil in his bag but he needed a bulb of Portanium, a blue-bell type plant which grew at the base of Lime trees. Looking around the hollow he couldn’t see any Lime trees. It would take him hours to find a Portanium plant in the shadows of night. There was only one option. Calix felt stupid even thinking it. How many times had he scoffed at Kaelia for believing the Vallesm could understand her?

  Blushing, he held his book open to the Vallesm and pointed at his sketch of a Portanium plant. ‘I need this, it’s Portanium and I need the bulb.’

  The wolf’s face neared Calix’s and its amber flecked eyes bored into his. Its damp nose smeared the tip of Calix’s own nose and for a moment the wolf looked as if it was going to bite him, then it sprang into action, whipping Calix across the cheek with its tail as it turned and shot off into the undergrowth.

  Calix let out a relieved breath, adrenaline racing. He hoped the Vallesm had by some magic understood the instruction. Unscrewing the lid of an empty wide-necked bottle he’d had in his bag, he tipped into it some of the base oil. Guessing the quantity would have to do.