Will (Book 2)

by S. F. Burgess

  “Ow! I just thought the Avatar might be able to get the crown off faster than we can!” Samson protested, covering his head.

  Get me up, Conlan mouthed silently at Will. While Rudd berated and struck the hapless Samson for being an idiot and untying the Avatar, Will and Conlan, unnoticed, managed to get each other standing. Leaning heavily on Will, an arm over his shoulder, Conlan trembled.

  “You should be thankful the Enforcers have stripped the Avatar’s energy!” Rudd yelled, pointing down at where he assumed Will was still knelt.

  Conlan cleared his throat. The two elite Protectors turned to look at him, eyes widening, mouths dropping open as they took in the glowing green eyes charged with a righteous ferocity.

  “You are the one who put the crown on my head,” Conlan accused Rudd, his flat voice stronger and more menacing than anything Will had anticipated. Maybe he can do this.

  Rudd nodded as dumb terror crawled across his face.

  “He is also the one who ran his sword through Kip,” Will said, pain snapping along the edges of the Dwarfish.

  “Big mistake,” Conlan snarled, and, with a soft popping sound, Rudd went from being Rudd to being a bloody, wet collection of vaguely Rudd-shaped parts, covering Samson with soggy red gore in the process.

  Samson froze, blood and bits of Rudd dribbling down him. Will gawked. If Eleanor had done that, despite her best efforts, it would have been a Rudd-and-Samson pile. Conlan’s control and precision were scarily impressive.

  Conlan stared wide-eyed for a heartbeat before his normal flat expression fell into place. “Too much?” he asked in English, as if he were discussing the amount of honey on his bread.

  “After what he did to Kip?” Will replied. “I’m good with it.”

  Conlan nodded grimly. Samson dropped to his knees, sobbing and babbling something about following orders and not wanting to die. The noise was grating and pathetic, but more importantly it was drawing attention. Conlan glared at him, and Samson jittered as Water’s electrical charge ripped through him. His hair stood upright, his eyes rolled in his head, his teeth snapped tight together and a dark stain spread across the crotch of his trousers. He collapsed, lying silent.

  Doubt and disquiet made unpleasant weights in Will’s stomach. My energy. Conlan had used Will’s energy with a level of control Will did not possess in his wildest dreams. What have we created? Has the energy made him psychotic? Will had seen Avatar energy do this to Eleanor, Freddie and Amelia. Did Conlan react the same way? They should have considered this. If he began acting irrationally, what would they have to do to stop him? Could they stop him?

  “Is he dead?” Will asked uncertainly.

  Conlan glanced at him and smiled. “Of course not; just less annoying.”

  Will found he could not argue with either assertion. “How do you know he’s not dead?”

  “I felt his heartbeat as I pushed your energy through him; I stopped before it did,” Conlan said with cold practicality, frowning at Will’s blank look. “I take it your energy doesn’t work the same way for you.”

  “Not even close,” Will muttered, thinking of the disconcerting loss of control he always felt when releasing his energy, knowing each time he did that it would most likely kill the person it was aimed at. The faces of those whose lives he had ended since becoming an Avatar flashed through his mind. Have I lost my humanity? The question came out of nowhere and it was disturbing.

  “Will,” Conlan said, interrupting his rather disjointed train of thought. “I think we’ve been spotted.”

  Following Conlan’s gaze, Will saw the Protectors moving slowly, carefully, not wanting to be singled out as they woke companions and found weapons, but none of them were taking their eyes off the two men propping each other up.

  “Now we find out if this crown is worth what it cost me,” Conlan murmured. Will nodded and then staggered, dropping to his knees as his energy was pulled with brutal force. Conlan managed to remain standing, but he swayed, resting a hand on Will’s shoulder.

  “Enforcers,” Will ground out, eyes watering. Locating their strings, he wondered if he should attempt to pull his energy back, or if it was safer, given the state of his control, just to let them take it. While he tried to decide he scanned the men in front of him, looking for the culprits. He located a group of six soldiers off to the left, noticeable for their badly fitting armour and the fact that they were not holding weapons. Not all of them were fully awake.

  Even as he watched, they were all knocked off their feet, like pins in a bowling alley from a fast-moving strike. They landed with a clatter of armour, winded and groaning, in a heap ten feet back, and most did not move. So, Conlan had seen them too. The two that did try to stand were struck again by Air’s invisible force, flinging them even farther away. This time no one stirred. The pulling on Will’s energy ceased. Some remained, enough that Will was able to struggle back to his feet.

  While Conlan had dealt with the Enforcers, the rest of the Protectors, numbering some thirty men, had arranged before them, swords at the ready. Fear was showing on many faces as they witnessed the power Conlan so effortlessly wielded. More than one of them was calculating their odds and not coming up with a favourable answer. Curiously, they had split into two different groups. To their left were the majority of the ordinary protectors, the six remaining elite guard standing out in front of them, and to their right stood seven ordinary protectors being marshalled by a huge brute of a man, his long brown hair tied back in a very non-regulation ponytail.

  “We just want to leave with Arran, our cart and the horses,” Conlan said, his reasonable tone carrying in the dawn air. “I do not mean any of you harm. I never did.”

  “Killed by you as you escape, or executed by Lord Daratus if we allow you to escape,” the large man to their right replied, and Will recognised Cai’s voice from the night before. “I see no difference,” Cai continued. “To live we must stop you.”

  “Or you could just join me,” Conlan replied.

  “Ha! And be branded traitors too?” Cai said, shaking his head. “Our families imprisoned, tortured? Hunted down like animals? What life is that?”

  Will cringed at the logic; it was a fair assessment.

  “As you can see, we can protect ourselves. We can protect you and your families too,” Conlan said.

  Cai laughed—a pleasant, friendly sound. “If you were able to use this sort of power all the time, you would never have let us capture you in the first place, or let Rudd injure you to the extent he has.”

  Again the Protector made a lot of sense. “I like this man,” Will whispered, seeing the shadow of a smile that twitched Conlan’s lips.

  “Putting the crown on my head has given me more control over the energy of my Avatars,” Conlan explained. “The crown will not come off, so the power I have now is permanent. I will never be subject to the brutality of Protectors again. If you do not let us leave, you will regret it.”

  “You say you wish us no harm, yet I see dead bodies.”

  It was one of the elite Protectors who had spoken. He stood to their left, an older-looking man who stepped out in front, facing Conlan with a furious glare.

  “Rudd is dead because he took the life of one of mine—justice, not murder,” Conlan said with no compromise in his voice.

  “Rudd is dead…?” Cai sounded shocked.

  “And Samson is dead because…?” the elite Protector asked, ignoring Cai completely.

  “Samson is not dead,” Conlan replied. The Protector snorted his disbelief. Conlan shrugged. “Come and check if you do not think I speak the truth.”

  The elite Protector turned to the nearest man. “You! Go and check on Samson.” The man hesitated, giving Conlan and Will a wary look. “What is your name?” the elite Protector asked, seeing the man’s indecision.

  “Rafi, sir.”

  “Rafi, my name is Daman and this man here”—Daman placed a hand on the broad shoulder of one of the other elite Protectors—“is our best
archer. He will be covering you. You have my word that no harm will come to you.” The archer swung his bow from over his shoulder and notched an arrow ready.

  “I would rather have his word,” Rafi said, nodding towards Conlan.

  Irritated by this request, but trying to hide it, Daman gave Conlan a questioning look.

  Conlan sighed. “Come and check Samson. I will not hurt you.”

  Rafi swallowed, but nodded, sheathed his sword and began moving over to where Samson lay, casting fearful looks in Conlan’s direction. For his part, Conlan watched with tired patience as Rafi crept towards them, knelt at Samson’s side and tried to determine if the man was still alive. To Will, the whole thing felt odd. He found it hard to believe that Daman really cared about Samson enough to waste time checking on him. Surely they would attack and check later?

  “Conlan, doesn’t this seem a little overly elaborate to you?” Will whispered in English. Rafi’s head snapped up at the sound, eyes frightened as he looked at them.

  “Samson is still breathing,” Rafi confirmed loudly.

  Conlan’s body tensed. “Will,” he whispered back. “Where did the other Protectors go?”

  Turning his head, Will realised that the other, smaller group of ordinary Protectors that had been stood on their right were now gone.

  “Maybe they ran away?” Will offered, not entirely in jest.

  Conlan gave him a withering look, then returned his weary gaze to the smug expression on Daman’s face as Rafi scuttled back to the safety of the other Protectors.

  “This traitor is nothing. He can barely stand,” Daman said. “We finish this now! Fire!”

  The elite Protector with the bow immediately began firing arrows with frightening speed. But with growing incredulity, the archer soon realised that none of his projectiles were hitting their mark. Will noticed that, in flight, each arrow was getting a slight nudge, pushing it off course, away from them. Will was truly impressed by Conlan’s reflexes and the courage he was showing by relying on them in his current state. Air’s pushing force again—but why? Conlan had control now: surely he could create a protective shield over them and stop the deadly bolts with a lot less effort and risk?

  Running out of arrows and seeing no other options, Daman, with a screaming yell, charged. His men paused for a heartbeat, then ran after him, adding their own yells of defiance. The ordinary Protectors looked at each other before reluctantly following.

  Will slipped behind Conlan so that they stood back to back, aware that the vanished Protectors could reappear at any time, but looking back over his shoulder he could see the men and steel that thundered towards their position. Will smiled when the reason for Conlan holding back Air’s protective capabilities became apparent. The Protectors ran right into nothing and came to a confused, crushing stop. As Eleanor had once remarked, it was like watching someone walk into a glass window. The men at the back smashed into those up front, knocking air out of lungs, noses out of alignment, consciousness out of heads and, in some cases, forcing weapons in unexpected directions. Several of the Protectors at the front of the charge were impaled on the weapons of their comrades, and Will saw at least one man impaled on his own weapon.

  Taking advantage of the chaos the shield had caused, Conlan used Air’s pushing force to fling the Protectors back, tossing them around like dolls. Barely had one landed than another was in the air. Screaming, yelling, begging, falling, crying…

  A few men pulled themselves up, bravely or foolishly, or both, and together charged a second time. Air hit them so hard that one man ended up in the branches of a tree across the track.

  A sort of silence fell then—and for a few it was permanent. The battle had been short and brutal, yet the response was restrained. Will was under no illusions: had Conlan wanted these men dead, none of them would still be breathing. Yet from the soft moans and gasps of pain he could hear, it seemed that most still were.

  His steps stiff and a little wobbly, Conlan walked towards the largest scattering of fallen men, bending to pick up an abandoned and bloody sword and using it as a support to stand upright again before continuing on. Will backed up behind him, still facing away from him, watching their backs for the other group of Protectors.

  Conlan came to a stop. Glancing back over his shoulder again, Will could see Daman lying prone at Conlan’s feet.

  “You did your best to stop me,” Conlan told him. “Even Lord Daratus cannot lay blame for your efforts against a far superior force. We are going to leave now. I would recommend that you do not follow us.”

  Groaning, Daman laboriously pulled himself up onto one knee. “Make it quick.”

  “Pardon?” Conlan asked, confused.

  “We spent the night torturing you. I am sure you would like to give me a slow death, but I am asking for you to make it quick,” Daman said, a little petulantly. “But I am not going to beg,” he added.

  “Oh…” Conlan said. The adrenaline, determination—whatever had kept him going—was fading. Where their backs touched, Will could feel the tension in his tendons and sinews, the effort he had to exert to remain upright. “Actually,” Conlan said with slow consideration, “I got the impression Rudd was responsible for most of last night. There has already been too much death. I do not want to kill you.”

  Daman looked suspicious. “What trick is this?”

  “No trick,” Conlan said, his voice growing faint. “I just place more value on your life than you seem to. My weakness, I suppose.” Conlan staggered then, his strength gone, his knees buckling, and Will turned just in time to catch him as his body slumped and fell.

  Conlan’s sword dropped from his hand, eyes rolling, head falling back. His full weight was too much for Will to hold up in his battered state, and the best he could do was fold to the ground with Conlan, lessening his impact, keeping his skull from hitting the mud.

  With an effort, Will pulled him into a more comfortable position, supporting his shoulders and head. Conlan’s pulverised left hand slid across his chest, pulled towards the ground by the heavy weight of the metal restraint on his wrist. Daman reached out and caught it before it landed, cushioning the blow, laying it down carefully.

  “He is not what we were told he was,” Daman said slowly, raising pale blue eyes full of confusion and distress.

  “A lot of things are not what you were told they were,” Will said, unable to keep the anger out of the Dwarfish or the pain he felt for Conlan out of his eyes. Daman looked about to say something more when his eyes flicked to movement behind Will.

  “No!” Daman cried, forcing himself to his feet and stepping behind Will. “No! Cai! No! Wait!”

  The other Protectors. They were back, and he and Conlan were now almost defenceless. Conlan, at least, had given all he could. Will could still use his own energy, but he needed a single point of focus, and could deal with only one attacker at a time. And if they had a bow… I’m just not that fast. He pulled Conlan closer to him, looking down into his bruised, exhausted face, seeing the innocent child as much as the man.

  “If we die, we die together,” Will whispered, closing his eyes. The thought brought him a strange sense of peace.

  “Daman? What is going on? Is the traitor dead?” The voice belonged to Cai. He sounded hopeful.

  “No, I do not think he is dead, but—” Daman started.

  “Then get out of the way!” Cai interrupted. “He is too dangerous. I did not expect the fight to end so quickly, or we would not have left. A surprise rear attack is only useful if there is a continuing frontal attack! He killed Rudd—we must finish this now before any more of our brothers die. Lord Daratus can have my life if he objects; better one than many.”

  Brother… Kip’s voice whispered in Will’s ear. Death was suddenly very close, and he shuddered as he heard Cai shoving past Daman. Heavy hands fell on him and Will snapped his eyes open; the glaring look he gave was enough to make Cai remove his hands.

  “I would speak with you, Cai,” Will said.


  “You have nothing to say that I need to hear,” Cai snapped, stepping in front of Will.

  “You want to preserve life? Yes?” Will asked. “The lives of your men?”

  “Are you threatening my men?” Cai growled, and Will smiled slightly at the protective nature shining out from the big man’s intelligent brown eyes.

  “You have backed us into a corner. None of us wish you any harm. Whatever you have been told by the Lords of Mydren, our issue is with them, not with the Enforcers or Protectors that work for them. Conlan stands for life, for tolerance, but Cai, I stand for Conlan. I will not allow you to take his life. I am not defenceless. I could kill you and all your men where you stand, right now. There is no half measure; the way my energy works, I either do nothing or I kill you. If this were Conlan’s choice he would, I think, accept his death to preserve your life and the lives of your men… but this is not Conlan’s choice. It is mine. And I will destroy you before I let you harm him any further.”

  “You talk nonsense,” Cai snapped. “I witnessed the death the traitor caused in the battle when we captured you. I see the death he has delivered here. He has no more respect for life than the Lords of Mydren—and you have no energy. If you did, you would have used it by now.”

  Will shook his head. “Conlan did not fight for himself at the river. He fought for his men, his brothers, his family—to give them time to escape and to protect those of us who remained. The deaths he inflicted here today were regrettable, but again he was fighting to protect others: Arran and myself. And you are also mistaken about me: I do have energy. Putting the crown on his head gave Conlan the ability to give me more energy. I have not used it yet because I do not have Conlan’s control. As I have said, if I use the energy I have, you will die. All of you.”

  “And Rudd? Your would-be king killed him out of revenge,” Cai spat. “Nothing noble about that!”

  Will dropped his head. “Rudd killed one of ours, a young boy…”

  “I know all about the boy, and Rudd did not take his life—you saw that,” Cai interrupted. “Besides, he was following orders.”