Shades Of Glory: Age Of Magic - A Kurtherian Gambit Series (The Hidden Magic Chronicles Book 3)

by Justin Sloan

  Genius, Bale thought. The boy had likely used the wind to prevent the others from getting a clear idea of where they went—no sound, no scent. And if Bale hadn’t gone back for the boy, all seven of the paladins would have likely been dead by now.

  “Do we need to rest?” Gerin asked, nodding to the boy in Bale’s arms and then to one of the paladins, who had a bloody arm.

  “I’m good if you are,” the injured paladin said to Bale.

  With a smile, Bale said, “We go until I collapse. There’s no way in hell I’m letting this kid or any of you fall back into their hands.”

  The others pushed on, inspired by that, and while his muscles screamed in pain, he wasn’t about to give up. Not anytime soon; not ever.

  He was a paladin, dammit. And that meant fighting for honor—fighting to the last breath—and it sure as hell meant fighting against evil bastards hell-bent on world domination.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  An early morning breeze tickled Kia’s nose, but when she woke she realized that hadn’t been what got her attention. In spite of the calming effect of the otherwise cool morning air and the way the sunlight was scattered across the forest floor with trickles of orange and red seeping in from the sunrise, her heart was pounding and her palms were clammy.

  She heard a noise, a clang of metal on metal, then a distant, gravel-crunching voice.

  She sat up and saw that the others in camp were still sleeping. Laird Summers and his men had set up a perimeter with guards keeping watch, though she noticed one who was close to nodding off.

  It was easy to sneak past him. She scampered up into one of the trees and used it to move through the sky like a squirrel until she dropped down out of sight of the guards and made a run for it.

  This might not be worth waking the others for. It might have just been her imagination, or some local boys out for an early morning training session, though as far as she knew, there weren’t any villages in this area.

  Again with the gravelly voice.

  Trees blocked much of her view ahead, along with gullies and fissures where old riverbeds had dried out here or earthquakes had torn apart the ground there.

  She rounded a group of blackberry bushes that grew over some rocks, pausing to grab a couple of the blackberries for an early breakfast, and immediately threw herself backward into a prone position.

  Not quite sure she had seen what she thought she had, she inched forward on her elbows and peeked around the rock again.

  Sure enough, in the center of the valley was a group of remnant. Their clothes hung in rags from their scarred and beaten bodies. Their eyes glowed red in a way that was especially creepy in the early morning light.

  One of them stood over the dead body of another as the others took sides. At first she couldn’t see why, but then she caught sight of a clansman tied up, beaten and bloody, on the ground nearby. He looked to be unconscious, and from the snippets of conversation she could overhear, they were fighting over him.

  For a long moment she laid there wondering how she could save the man without being caught. It was humorous, she thought, how saving him wasn’t even a doubt in her mind. There was no way she’d let him be their prisoner or dinner or whatever they had in mind.

  One of the remnant grunted and turned, and it seemed like they had reached a truce.

  Not if she could help it.

  An idea hit her and she wanted to laugh, but decided to first see if it would work. Focusing her energy, she moved her left hand in a way that helped her concentrate on the one who had his back turned, and then made a slight spark hit the sensitive part of his neck just under the left ear.

  He spun on the other remnant, furious, and knocked him to the ground with a punch.

  “Couldn’t be done with it?” the first remnant shouted as he kicked the other.

  The second growled in pain at the kick, then rose and pushed him back. “Wasn’t me, you piece of rat shite. Wasn’t me!”

  “Now you’s saying I lie?”

  “Ah, slag off,” the second remnant said, turning back to the clansman. “Agreement sticks.”

  Now Kia wasn’t going to play around. She aimed again, then sent a quick scorcher to ignite the second remnant’s crotch. Nothing big, just enough to flare up and cause pain before dying off.

  He roared and spun, then drew his hatchet and ran for the first.

  Now I can laugh, Kia thought, as more of the remnant moved in to join the fight.

  But she couldn’t linger. The man had started to move, noticing what was happening, and she needed to get him out of there before he was trampled or they turned their blood lust on him.

  In a mad dash she ran down the side of the valley, trying to stay low in case wandering eyes spotted her. She slid the last bit, darted over to the man, and helped him to stand.

  A loud roar came from behind her and she saw that one of the remnant had spotted her.

  “Can you run?” she asked the clansman as she sent a small flame to the ropes between his legs—just enough to burn through them. A sensation like being kicked in the head hit her, but she knew it was just from using her magic in such a focused way.

  “Go!” she shouted, pointing back the way she had come. He frowned and took off to the northeast instead.

  She cursed, sent a fireball at the remnant charging her, and then ran after the man.

  “I have a whole camp up the hill!” she told him, able to catch up in spite of the exhaustion of magic use, likely because his state from having been tied up.

  “And there’re more of us this way,” he replied, pointing to a group of trees along the valley. “Just past there it opens up into a plain, and that was where we were to regroup.”

  Kia cursed. The other remnant had noticed the fireball and were now recovered from their infighting and starting to give chase instead. They blocked the way she had come, so her choices were to turn back and face them all or keep running.

  Dammit.

  “How’d you get yourself caught, anyway?” she demanded, running alongside him.

  “What’re you doing charging into a group of remnant to save someone you don’t know?”

  “I know you,” she said, realizing it from the way he frowned. “I mean, not exactly, but we were at this village with water mages, a lady named—”

  “Leila,” he finished, glancing over and recognition showed on his face. “You’re Donnon’s girl?”

  She nodded.

  “That explains a lot.” He glanced back and cursed. “We need to get close to water so I can get them off our trail.”

  “You don’t need it,” she replied.

  “Casting a spell on them would damn well help right now.”

  She gave him a raised eyebrow, turned and cut the air with her hand—the effect was a wall of flames that rose up and hit the closest remnant full-on.

  “I-I’d heard rumors,” he managed, nearly stopping as he stared at her in amazement.

  “Keep moving!” she replied, pulling him along. “I thought we’d done a good job of keeping it secret, but I think we’re beyond caring about that shite.”

  They reached the trees, dodged through them, and soon came out the other side. They emerged to find the level ground covered in short brown grass.

  “You can do it too, you know,” she said, glancing back to see forms of the remnant moving through the trees. “Cast magic without the source. Without the element nearby, I mean.”

  “The wind mages I travel with, sure. The wind is everywhere.” He glanced at her skeptically. “But me, a water mage? No, I can’t.”

  “Not with an attitude like that,” she replied, and then debated her next move. “Listen, I’m not about to run into a camp of strange men and leave my people to wonder what happened to me.”

  “I can’t let a girl run off on her own, not out here.”

  She scoffed. “Don’t forget I’m the one who saved you. You want to stop me? Give it a try.”

  His eyes took on a doubtful look, and she nodded
. “I thought so. Listen, we have a large group up there, I’ll rouse them and bring them this way. You do what you can to hold the remnant off.”

  A man had spotted them already them from the far side of the plain and was shouting as he ran over. More men appeared behind him.

  “Thank you,” the man said, and started toward them.

  “What’s your name?” she asked. “I’m Kia.”

  “I know. The name’s Farrel, when you find us, you’ll want to speak with Laird Lokane.”

  Kia knew that name well enough, and it almost made her halt in her steps. She quickly recovered and was practically flying up the hill, then realized one of the men below had cast a wind spell that was giving her the needed boost. Farrel was at his side saying something and pointing her way.

  Another had reached those two, and was now sending debris with the other mage’s gusts of wind at the pursuing remnant.

  When Kia reached the top of the hill she waved her thanks and saw them take off for their encampment, wherever that was. The remnant started to emerge from the tree line.

  Another blast of magic wouldn’t kill her, she figured, and slowing down the remnant could help her new friend.

  Ducking down to be out of sight, she threw a spark into the brown grass, which a moment later had ignited into a blaze, catching dead trees and scattered twigs alight. It wouldn’t be enough to stop them, as they could quickly stomp it out, but it would be enough of a delay that it could mean the difference between Lokane’s fighters being caught unawares or not.

  With that she darted back to her encampment, ready to sound the alarm.

  ***

  “Remnant!” a voice shouted, then repeated itself again, “Remnant nearby, and they’re attacking a group led by Laird Lokane!”

  Alastar sat up, confused, head hurting from an uneasy sleep, and then registered that it was Kia shouting as she ran past a barely alert guard. Several around the camp were rousing, all turning with confusion, and he glanced around, worried about his sister—only to find her curled up against Donnon.

  Estair hadn’t been able to sleep near Alastar, much to his annoyance. Laird Summers had a protective watch over her, and still hadn’t warmed to the idea of her being friendly with a paladin.

  Others were murmuring about the disturbance, some brushing her off as a silly girl, but Alastar knew better. Donnon and Rhona knew better. The three were at her side in an instant.

  “What is it?” Donnon asked his daughter.

  She repeated herself, saying she had seen the remnant out there and come across a man who said he was with Laird Lokane.

  Donnon rubbed his temple and shook his head. “Remind me to scold you later for being out there without one of us.”

  “You’re gonna hold my hand whenever I have to pee?” she asked, glaring.

  “Something tells me that was not what you were doing,” Rhona replied, and the girl’s frown vanished, quickly replaced with a sheepish grin.

  “Fine. Point is, they’re in trouble.”

  Alastar turned to the spot where he’d laid down to sleep and grabbed his sword and armor. As he readied himself, he said, “Let’s get to it then.” Turning to address the rest of them, he continued, “You all heard her. There’re remnant out there that mean to do harm to humans. We won’t stand by and let that happen.

  Summers was there a moment later, Estair at his side.

  “Laird Lokane is no friend of mine,” Summers said, folding his arms.

  “Well, he is of mine,” Estair argued, earning her a truly annoyed glare from the man. “And I’ll go to his defense.”

  “We’re in no condition to run off to a fight right now,” Summers replied. “Let them fend for themselves, while we—”

  “Cower?” Kia interrupted.

  “Dear,” Donnon said, holding her arm. “We mustn’t speak to a laird so. But…” He looked for his weapon and then found it. As he picked it up, he continued, “She’s right, sir.”

  Summers’ face went beet-red and he grumbled something under his breath. With a wave of his hand, he said, “Forget our safety when there’s glory and honor to be had.”

  Alastar laughed, but quickly hid the amusement. He knew going to the defense of the others was without question the right thing to do here, but he didn’t want to get on the laird’s bad side.

  Instead, he turned to Kia. “Lead the way.”

  “I think you mean ‘point the way,’” Donnon corrected him.

  Kia shook her head. “I’m part of this battle whether you like it or not, Dad.”

  Donnon’s mouth fell open and he looked to the others for support, but Alastar just shrugged.

  “She’s one of our most powerful magic users,” he noted.

  Rhona nodded.

  “You’re all out to send me to an early grave,” Donnon said, wiping his brow before turning to his daughter and nodding. “Fine, but you stay in the rear. If you were to get hurt, I’d never forgive myself.”

  “Trust me, Dad, I’m not a huge fan of pain.” She smiled and turned back the way she had come, shouting, “Try to keep up, old man.”

  “She really is going to give me a heart attack,” Donnon remarked as he ran after her, battle ax in hand and the others close behind.

  As Alastar sprinted, doing his best to hold his long sword at his side so it didn’t bounce around too much, he noted the hint of a smile on his sister’s face.

  “What?”

  “I’m not allowed to smile when running into a fight?”

  He laughed. “Is that who you are now?”

  “Not exactly, no,” she admitted, “but it’s a relief to be going up against remnant instead of an army of sorcerers, wouldn’t you say?”

  He had to agree with that, especially since the two of them were still figuring out how their magic worked. Maybe if they’d had more time to train or someone to show them how to use their magic, they wouldn’t have had to retreat after defeating the High Paladin.

  Part of him still didn’t believe that was over, that he had slain the man he had looked up to for so long. Sir Gildon had been the closest thing Alastar had to a father; the only one who knew how to really use the power of light. And he’d been a liar, a murderer, and a traitor to his people.

  Alastar would have been happy to go up against the paladins to teach them a lesson about loyalty and what was right in this world. Dealing with an army of remnant would have to do—for now.

  A shout and then a burst of flame came from ahead.

  More shouts, and then a flaming remnant stumbled toward him. Alastar sidestepped and swung his sword, cutting the creature in half. Kia appeared a moment later, ducking under a low-hanging branch and coming face to face with Alastar.

  “They must’ve sent some after us, but only a few.” She pointed behind her as if he hadn’t guessed that.

  “I’ll take care of it,” he assured her, and then moved in, prepared for a fight.

  Smoke was rising up from the edge of a drop-off, and several remnant had just appeared out of the haze. He had a feeling the girl was behind this and had likely started some sort of fire that had gotten out of control.

  Shadows moved around him and a moment later Rhona was at his side, red hair flapping as if there was a wind that he didn’t feel, hands spread as if intending to simply shove the remnant back.

  He knew what his sister was capable of, though had to admit he was surprised that she stepped into this with such confidence.

  “I’ve been practicing,” she said. “Not much energy, but I imagine a spell or two might do the trick. Wall?”

  “What?”

  She smiled and repeated the word before thrusting her hands forward. The shadows at their feet surged forward and the incoming remnant looked like they’d just hit a wall that knocked them on their butts.

  Alastar nodded, impressed, and pulled his own magic. His sword began to glow, and he felt a new level of strength and speed flow through him.

  “My turn.” He swept down upon them,
ending remnant left and right.

  He had just stabbed the last one through the heart when he caught sight of more emerging from the smoke, only to go up in flames and stagger back down the hill.

  A glance confirmed his guess that it’d been Kia. “Remember, your dad said to stay back.”

  “And please do so!” Donnon shouted, stepping forward and cleaving another remnant as it came into view.

  She was about to respond when the rest of their little army caught up and surged over the side of the hill, taking down remnant as they ran. They soon reached the plain. Alastar quickly caught up, and moved into position to fight the remnant below. The remnant were trapped between them and a field afire, so many turned to their new attackers with fierce, terrified bloodlust.

  For them, it was “attack Alastar and his friends” or die in the fire.

  That worked just fine, as far as Alastar was concerned.

  He was a machine, cleaving remnant apart left and right, then charging with his sword held out, pushing them back and skewering them like ugly kabobs to be kicked off and discarded in the flames. A large remnant appeared from his right, red eyes glowing in the smoke, and nearly got him.

  Rhona was there, though—or not exactly there but close by—and she pushed out with her hands in a way that made shadows leap through the haze and catch the remnant, tossing him into the fire.

  “That practice is paying off,” Alastar commented. “Lucky me.”

  She smiled. Donnon appeared at her side a moment later, and they joined him at the base of the hill. Many of the remnant were in retreat, moving back into the tree line, some flailing and falling into the flames in their confusion and haste.

  “Do we pursue?” Donnon asked.

  Rhona looked hesitant, but not Alastar.

  “We hunt them down and rid the lands of those monsters,” he stated. “It’s our duty.”

  And with that he charged after them, vaguely aware of Laird Summers calling from behind, “Where is that man going?”

  If they weren’t all on the same page as him, that was their problem. He wouldn’t see more people hurt by these monsters. Not in his lands. Maybe it was his frustration over the whole incident with the High Paladin that drove him. The war should have been with these remnant the whole time, not against the clansfolk; men and women he now called friends.