by Justin Sloan
“That part is winning, and it says I have to master this so I don’t die the way they did. So I can impart justice if the opportunity presents itself.”
“Light and dark…”
The two made eye contact, both thinking it. “Even back then, the light…the paladins.”
“They took you two in, not out of the kindness of their hearts but because they had something to do with your parents’ death.”
Rhona nodded, agreeing. It made her brain hurt, but it made sense in a twisted way.
This time she turned to the tree and remembered all the emotions she had just experienced, along with the feeling that had gone through her when she had used the shadows to claw the remnant. With a surge of emotions, she reached out and pulled one hand through the air, as if ripping it to shreds with her fingernails.
The effect was shocking as the shadows followed her command. As her hand passed the point of the tree she could see the shadows moving, followed by splintering wood.
She cringed with her eyes closed as chunks of wood flew. When she looked again, there were four wide gouge marks in the tree. It was as if a mighty bear had come through and torn into the tree, only this would have had to be the largest bear ever to live.
Without hesitating she did the same again, but this time she lifted her hand and plunged it down.
The shadows surged from the sky, hitting the ground ten feet in front of her so that earth flew out of what became a hole.
She looked at Donnon. He was staring at her in a mixture of shock and awe.
“How…how are you feeling?” he finally asked.
She tilted her head, then moved it in the other direction and saw the surrounding trees blur slightly.
“I’d say….drunk.”
He blinked, then smiled. “You feel drunk?”
“Aye. Like, I could go on, but…I might stumble and fall over if I kept on for too long.”
“Let’s take a break then.” He motioned to the edge of the clearing where several large stones could serve as seats, but she shook her head.
“Just…a couple more.”
“You’re sure?”
She looked at him, considering the question, then nodded. Without waiting to see what he would say, she turned, moved her hands in a circle, and then pushed out. The shadow moved like a wall that slammed into the tree, causing it to groan as if it were about to fall over.
A deep breath and she spun again, this time focusing on the other side of the clearing, and then she was there, pulled along by the shadows as if she were one of them. The movement left her staggering, then she collapsed to her knees.
Donnon was there a moment later, holding her by the shoulder with his other arm wrapped around her.
“That’s enough for one day.” He helped her to stand.
For a moment she considered arguing, but instead she just laughed. “I did it! Did you see that?”
He beamed. “It was…amazing.”
As Rhona’s head spun she leaned into him, closed her eyes, and said, “Let’s get me back to…rest. For now. But I can’t wait to get at this again tomorrow.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Lannis hadn’t even been in his cell a full day, and yet it felt like an eternity. He had to get out of here, to be sure Kia was safe. When the paladins weren’t looking, he conjured Stormy as a way of escaping reality, as if he had someone to talk to. He would ask him how they could get out of there, what thoughts he had aside from distractions.
So far all he could come up with was to try using the wind to knock something against the guard’s head, but that still left him without the keys.
The door was solid oak. It hadn’t been a prison cell before, he guessed, but it had a lock on it so they had cleared out the room and locked him in here. “They” being his captors, whom he knew very little about.
But as he sat there leaning against the rear wall, he had an idea. Instead of just using wind to blow objects, would it be possible to blow sound? He wanted to learn more about this place—where he was, or anything, really.
He went to the rear window—which only opened a couple of inches due to nails blocking the frame it would otherwise slide through—and focused on Stormy going out there and carrying sound his way.
Snippets of conversation came at him from one window, but then he heard several inappropriate words and some grunting he didn’t want to hear, so he quickly redirected his focus to move along the walls, coming back to him each time until the wind heard something he could use.
He paused at the mention of Rhona. They had actually said the woman’s name!
Focusing his attention on that spot, more sound came his way. They talked about, not a victory, but a failure. The failure was in securing Rhona, it seemed. But why was she so important to these people, and why were they invading his lands? It couldn’t just be for her.
He heard more talk, at first of magic, and then…their voice grew hushed, but he still heard “escape.” Leaving this group behind.
Then came the word “drafty,” and the sound of a window closing.
When? He needed to know when they were leaving. If he had understood correctly, someone or a group was planning on jumping ship. Perhaps there was a way he could take advantage of the situation and go too.
An idea struck him, so he turned his attention back to the window that had closed, and had the wind pound against it. After a moment, he heard the creak of it opening, then the voice of someone saying, “Odd, I don’t see a storm. Seems to have just…stopped.”
But Lannis meant to now use the wind to carry sound the opposite direction as he said, “Take me with you. I’m the boy, the one captured and held downstairs.”
He paused, letting the wind carry voices back to him, in case there were any. After a moment, someone said, “How the hell is it that I can hear you from down there?”
The boy thought about it, wondering if it was smart to reveal he knew magic. It was his only chance.
“I can help you get out of here…with magic.”
A long pause followed by, “Stay vigilant. We’ll be by to get you.”
Lannis’ heart nearly leaped out of his chest. Moments ago he thought for sure he’d be stuck in this place forever or possibly killed, but now he had a real chance of getting out of here. That was, of course, if they actually came.
***
Bale stared at Gerin, unable to believe it. The boy was certainly gutsy, and it seemed rather creative. Even if he was just a kid, he might prove quite useful.
“I know that look,” Gerin stated, eyes narrowed. “You can’t seriously be considering bringing him.”
“You bet your arse I am.” Bale stepped closer, lowering his voice. “This whole manor is crawling with sorcerers, men and women who stand for everything we fought against, or thought we were fighting against. They will use their magic to stop us and, if they catch us we’ll likely face torture or death. You’re telling me you don’t want at least one magic user on our side?”
“He’s a damn child!”
Bale glanced outside, and the paladin at the gate turned to him and nodded. They were ready.
“You carry on with the plan, and I’ll worry about the boy.” Bale gathered his sword and armor, along with a black cloak he would wear over it all until they were free of the manor grounds.
Moving around in white certainly didn’t help one sneak off, so all of them had black or dark sheets or cloaks, whatever they could find that could help conceal them in the darkness.
“And if you aren’t there?” Gerin asked. “I won’t risk the lives of these men so you can take a gamble.”
Bale nodded. “Of course. If that happens, you must go on without me.”
“By the Saint, Bale, what are we doing here?”
For a long moment Bale thought about that. He thought about all the wars they had fought in the name of the High Paladin, wars he had said were against magic and its evil ways. In the end it had all been for his personal goals, likely part of a schem
e to take over the land or instill fear in the hearts of the people. No more.
“We’re finally fighting for what’s right,” Bale replied, and then headed for the door.
“May the Saint bless you and carry you swiftly to safety.”
Bale simply nodded, not ready to address the issue of the Saint yet. If the High Paladin wasn’t what he claimed to be, what did that mean for Saint Rodrick? Right now he chose to stick to his faith, at least as far as that part of it was concerned. So one religious leader—well, the religious leader, turned out to be a fraud. Did that make everything he had ever preached a lie?
Not necessarily.
What it did mean, though, was that Bale would have to learn to be smarter about what parts of their religion he believed.
The High Paladin had been a man—a man easily susceptible to corruption, as it turned out. As long as men led other men, there was always that risk. An apple might fall to the ground and rot, but the seeds within could still grow a new apple tree.
The hallways were empty as he made his way toward the stairs that led to the boy. He hadn’t been sure why they had even brought him in, when many of the men they had found on the battlefield had simply been slain. Women and children were thrown into cells—or maybe worse, for all he knew. That meant this boy was on the younger side, to merit keeping his life.
Or maybe it was that someone knew of his magic and chose to keep him alive for that reason.
If it was the latter, the boy might be extra-well-guarded, which would be unfortunate.
“Bale, you should be resting,” Taland said, emerging from a hallway to the right. He carried a candle that caused a flickering light to dance across his high cheekbones and wavy blond hair. It gave him an almost angelic look, if an angel had stood on a thin line between looking heavenly and demonic.
“As I am, but realized in my rest that I had completely forgotten to eat. I thought I would go to the cellars for pickled herring and bread, if there is any kept down there.”
“Is that so?” Taland looked doubtful, but nodded. “Stay lively, Bale. These lands are perilous.”
“Not that we will have much to worry about though, once we’ve conquered them,” Bale replied, earning him a smile from Taland.
“Indeed.”
Bale didn’t let out his next breath until Taland was well behind him. He was then able to unclench his fist, which he’d been holding behind his back. As far as he knew, the next time they met would be in battle on opposite sides, and he certainly looked forward to it. He wouldn’t mind striking now, but he couldn’t risk the alarm being sounded. Taland could take him, a fact that was made even worse when he had sorcerers on his side.
His internal alarm went off when he reached the lower hall and heard men running. At first he held out hope that it was nothing, but then a man shouted and others repeated the alarm.
It was too soon—Gerin must’ve acted before he was supposed to. Damn him.
Bale’s footsteps echoed through the hall as he ran, coming suddenly to two soldiers he didn’t recognize, likely brought in with the sorcerers.
“It sounds like movement outside. Check on it!” he shouted, and the two nodded and moved on. If there was movement outside and he was in here, they would assume he was still on the right side.
Or more accurately, the wrong side.
He ran past them, then saw the guard at the door that led down to the prisoners’ chambers. He could try to talk his way out of this, or just get it over with. The latter option was swifter, but the guard was one of his men this time.
They hadn’t been sure which side he would go with, so they hadn’t included him.
“Keys,” Bale demanded, slowing to a determined march instead of a run.
The man looked at him, and he confirmed it was Augost by the mole just under his left eye and the scar on his chin. That’s how Bale remembered people, by associating strange facial features with the name.
“What’s happening out there?” Augost asked, not reaching for the keys.
“We think they’re making a move on the prisoners, trying to set them free. I’ve been sent to ensure that doesn’t happen, and to confirm that one particular prisoner is still locked up.”
“I assure you—”
“Keys, sir.” Bale held out his hand, ready to draw his sword if needed.
The other man hadn’t been stalling, it seemed, as he now reached for the keys, unlocked the door, and led the way down.
“Which prisoner, exactly?” Augost asked.
“Boy,” Bale called, not sure how to answer that. “Where are you?”
“Here,” a voice called, and he knew it belonged to the one he was looking for.
Augost took a step back, hand on his sword. “Whatever’s happening here—”
“What’s happening here, Augost, is that you have a choice to make. Join the paladins who are leaving this place, or side with the sorcerers. You get one chance, because after tonight it’s us versus them.”
Augost hesitated. “Taland’s leaving too?”
Bale’s eyes narrowed, but he nodded. “Of course. But I’ve been ordered to collect this boy.”
Without hesitation, Augost was at the door, unlocking it, and then they were face-to-face with a young boy with tousled hair. In spite of his youth, the boy’s eyes stared back with the ferocity of a wild dog.
“You’re getting me to safety?”
“Just as you are getting us to safety,” Bale replied. “Together.” Then he turned back to Augost. “Quick question. If I had said Taland wasn’t on our side…?”
“He’s in charge now, so of course I’d have to… Oh…” Realization dawned on his face too late, as Bale had already drawn his sword and lifted it before the man knew what was happening.
Not being the type to murder unless necessary, Bale brought the hilt of his sword down on the man’s temple and kicked him into the room, quickly pulling the boy out and locking the door behind them.
“Let’s go, kid,” he said as the two ran. He had to pause more than once to wait for the boy to catch up, but when a door opened to reveal soldiers only to have it blow back in their faces and stay there thanks to a heavy wind, he knew he’d made the right choice.
“Where are you taking me?” the boy asked.
“Away from here, then…I have no idea.”
“That’ll do.”
They continued running, but halfway to the side doors the boy shouted and motioned to take a different way.
“We have a plan, it involves going outside through the doors that are over there,” Bale argued, but his breath caught when he saw that the boy’s eyes had gone black.
“And I have the ability to use the wind to tell me what’s what, and I know two things right now you don’t. There are people that way, and I’m guessing they aren’t yours, since they aren’t running. There’s an unexpected breeze coming from this direction, another floor down.”
Bale blinked, trying to take that in, then followed. As far as he’d known there weren’t any other floors below them, but it wasn’t like this was his home. If the boy said so, right now that seemed to be his best bet.
“By the way, name’s Lannis,” the boy said as he led the way.
“Bale.”
Lannis nodded, giving him a cautious yet thankful glance. “Thanks.”
“Thank me after we survive this, and…” Bale motioned to the way ahead. “Thank you.”
Lannis chuckled, and continued on.
They worked their way to a cellar room with barrels of stored food, then the boy closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he pointed to a rectangular chest in the corner.
“There, move that one.”
“Yes, m’lord,” Bale replied with a scoff, but moved to do so.
Sure enough, there was a boarded-up window behind the chest. When they had removed the boards, it revealed an opening just large enough for them to fit through.
“We might want to take some of that,” Lannis said, motioning
to the chest they had just moved. It was open now, revealing salted venison.
Not a bad idea at all, Bale thought, filling the pockets of his cloak and then nodding for the boy to lead the way. The window took them to an area that had seemingly once led outside, but had been blocked by a cave-in. After pushing their way out through overgrowth and dirt, Bale couldn’t believe it when they emerged on the southeast side of the manor.
The shouts and clashing of swords weren’t far off, but the boy started to run the other direction.
“No,” Bale hissed. “We don’t leave without them.”
“And if going back gets us killed?”
“You would’ve died in there anyway.” He wasn’t sure if the statement was true, but it might as well have been. “You help here, we’ll get you home.”
“I’m not going home. I’m looking for a girl.”
“You and me both, kid,” Bale chuckled, then remembered the seriousness of their situation. “If we don’t get out of here fast, the sorcerers will be upon us. What can you do?”
The boy breathed deep and then looked like he was about to punch something before he started running toward the noise. “Let’s see.”
They found only a couple of the guards and the boy proved his worth—a quick gust of wind sent a flurry of twigs and small pebbles at them, causing them to pull back, blocking their faces with their arms. That’s when the other paladins struck.
“We have to move now!” Bale hissed, motioning to Gerin to come. The other five trusted paladins appeared behind Gerin, and soon they were all running through the woods, clear of the bursts of flame and hurled ice-spears they could hear slamming into the ground behind them.
They all were likely wondering who the boy with the blackened eyes was, but nobody asked until they had gone some way and the boy nearly collapsed.
Bale ran to his side, picked him up, and continued to run, observing how the boy’s eyes returned to normal as he looked up at him and smiled.
“We did it,” the boy said.
“You did it, I imagine. Somehow you blocked them being able to find us, didn’t you?”
The boy’s smile didn’t falter, but he closed his eyes as he whispered, “Maybe.”