Zylka lifted the hem of her gown higher, revealing a shapely leg, and withdrew a dagger strapped to her thigh. She threw it in a smooth motion, and it tumbled right toward Taren then lodged into the back of the invisible monster just as it crossed the threshold. The thing slowed, and its grip loosened for a second.
Then two armed guards were there before it, swords in hand. Their initial shock was swiftly replaced with determination at Zylka’s cries to aid Taren. The guards probed at the invisible assailant hesitantly with their swords, careful not to strike Taren. One blade struck the creature, and he felt the beast ripple beneath him as if it were a pot of jelly being disturbed. The tentacles abruptly loosened, and he was tossed roughly aside, landing hard on the porch, his head slamming against the floor. The building swirled dizzyingly around him, then he was viewing the scene with his second sight overlaid atop his normal vision.
The guards cautiously circled, still probing the air around the unseen beast. One of its limbs lashed out and struck one of the elves hard in the chest. He cried out, losing the grip on his sword, and tumbled off the porch, falling the long distance to the ground below, where his cry was abruptly silenced.
Zylka appeared through the doorway, her face again the stern countenance of a warrior. She leaned down and scooped up the fallen elf’s sword as the other guard slashed furiously at the air.
The creature stood still a long moment then surged to the guard’s left. It lashed out, gripping his sword arm with one tentacle and his leg with another, then lifted him high into the air and slammed him down hard on the porch. Bone snapped, and the guard lay still—whether unconscious or dead, Taren couldn’t tell.
Zylka stabbed cautiously where she knew the creature to be. Her sword bit in, and some ink spurted off the beast in Taren’s second sight. It moved backward a couple paces before circling to Zylka’s right then standing as still as a statue. She probed the space before her with her sword.
“Strike right!” Taren shouted.
She instantly did so, spinning and thrusting the sword before her. It thudded into the beast’s trunk, sending a vibration through the sword blade. A tentacle struck like a snake, latching around Zylka’s sword arm and keeping the sword trapped in place in its body. The other tentacle wrapped around her neck, lifting her into the air.
“No!” Taren cried, watching horrified as the tentacle tightened around her slim neck like a constricting snake killing its prey. He struggled to rise, but a wave of dizziness forced him to remain on one knee, a hand on the floor to support himself.
Zylka’s face turned red, but she retained her calm. She reached around with her free hand and grasped her dagger, still embedded in the beast’s flank, and pulled it free then stabbed again and again. The beast reeled back, slamming into the front of the manse. Its third appendage shot out and coiled around Zylka’s upper right arm, holding both her arms at bay while it choked the life from her.
Taren lurched to his feet, but he had no weapon or anything he could use to save her. Fear and rage boiled up within him. With his second sight, he saw the seething mass of inky darkness before him, a foul blight violating the pure amber aura of Zylka’s vitality. He gained awareness of the immense amount of cool earth magic surrounding him, a fount seeping from the giant heartwood tree.
Something changed within Taren’s being, like a rusty lever being thrown and shaking off its grit before slotting neatly into place. Earth magic was suddenly boiling inside him, fueling him. He focused on the beast’s form and imagined it suddenly torn apart, its very being destroyed.
The inky mass erupted suddenly, ripped apart as if by a thousand claws until its very form was sundered. The negative energy forming its essence exploded in a burst. Zylka was thrown away, landing hard on the floor. The negative energy roiled angrily in midair like a swarm of hornets before being shredded like a stream of smoke before a gale, dissipating into the night.
Taren stumbled and fell to one knee. His vision swam again, and he fought to stave off unconsciousness. After a long moment, in which he finally prevailed, he crawled over beside Zylka.
The princess’s eyelids fluttered, her eyes staring unfocused, her breathing rapid. After a moment, her green-gold orbs focused on his face. “Your eyes,” she whispered.
“Zylka, are you well?” He peered into her face.
A look of confusion stole across her. “What happened? What did you do?”
“I… I’m not sure. Something changed deep inside me. I wanted that thing destroyed, and then it was.”
“Your talent has manifested… Such power. Who are you, Taren?” Her eyes were wide as she stared at him.
Her words seemed to echo Yethri’s from what felt like years before but had only been a few weeks, since his fortunetelling. He remembered the sensation of electricity in the air, the wagon shaking and dislodging all of Yethri and her grandmother’s possessions, knocking over candles, and starting a fire.
Taren opened his mouth to reply when running footsteps rang out lightly on the floor and a squad of guards burst onto the patio from inside the manor. They spread out, searching for the threat and establishing a protective perimeter, while one of the warriors dropped to his knees beside the princess to check her welfare, face concerned. Behind them came the older elf Zylka had spoken with earlier, who he assumed was the steward, from his ornate robes.
“Zylka’s been hurt—she needs a healer. Enelwyn too… I found her injured in my chamber. I-I don’t know if she’s alive or not. That thing was choking out my cousin too, but I think he’ll be all right.”
The steward’s face filled with concern. He barked an order, and one of the guards ran back inside.
Zylka reached up and touched Taren’s cheek. “You’re an enigma, Taren.” Her hand was soft on his cheek. He wanted to clasp her hand but was well aware of the steward scowling at him.
“Princess, are you well?” Steward Galdir asked. Besides the concern, Taren could hear disapproval in his tone.
Zylka sighed and withdrew her hand. “I think I’m all right.” She waved away the guard crouched over her. “What of Enelwyn and your cousin?”
“I don’t know. When I entered my room, I found her on the floor with blood on her head. That thing was choking Elyas. When I stabbed it, it attacked me and sought to carry me off.”
“The inquisitors,” Zylka said
Taren nodded grimly. “That is my guess. They want me badly for some reason. I’m a danger to you… We must be away as soon as Elyas recovers.”
“No. I won’t give in to fear and threats, here, in my own home.”
“Highness, I agree with the human. What he says will be best. The threat is more dire than we suspected. We are not equipped to deal with supernatural threats such as this. I’ll send word to Drinleff Kayloria to send some mages and more warriors.” Galdir looked at Taren and nodded with a measure of respect.
The only thing I can do to make him and the other elders happy is leave, he thought bitterly. At least that will keep Zylka and her people safe.
Zylka sighed, looking resigned. “I will not prevent you from leaving if that is your wish. What your enemies seek lies within.” She touched her fingertips lightly against his chest. “You’ve a powerful talent, one which you don’t yet understand. I could sense your power when you destroyed the creature. Your art is something they fear. My hope is you can harness it to work to the advantage of all the people of Ketania.” Her eyes fluttered, and she fell unconscious.
Taren sighed and got to his feet. He leaned against the wall unsteadily while Zylka’s guards milled around, alert for any other threat. A moment later, a male elf with a holy symbol like Enelwyn’s arrived. He checked on Zylka a moment then issued instructions, and the guards quickly bore the princess away to her chambers. The healer next checked on the wounded guard. He spoke to the lead guard, who ordered the wounded elf carried away.
Taren was left standing around, worried and afraid. Although concerned about Zylka, he went to check on Elyas and Enel
wyn, hoping they were both all right.
Come the morning, hopefully Elyas awakens. Then we’d best leave here. He couldn’t bear the thought of any further harm coming to Zylka, Enelwyn, or any of the others who’d shown him such kindness.
***
Tellast watched as the fiend Taananzu suddenly raised its cowled head from where it had sat motionless for hours. Several cockroaches and glistening black worms fell from the sleeves of the demon’s robes when it stirred. He hated associating with the fiend but couldn’t deny the benefits of its powerful magic even though it terrified him and his men.
“What is it?” he asked impatiently. “Did you secure the boy?”
The creature sat there silently for a long moment. When Tellast opened his mouth to repeat his question, the cowl swiveled toward him, and the eerie green light of its eyes smoldered within.
“The boy is more powerful than believed. He is the one we seek.” The fiend’s voice was dead and hollow, like some malevolent specter speaking from the grave.
“What happened?” he asked anxiously. Even though Tellast and the creature were ten paces beyond the campfire, he could see the uneasy glances of his men.
The sickly glowing eyes glared balefully at him, causing him to shudder involuntarily. “The human boy invoked a powerful magic and destroyed my servant.” Taananzu shuddered, the empty robes around its torso rippling queerly as it climbed to its feet, sending a shower of more beetles and worms tumbling loose, scurrying and slithering around on the ground where the fiend’s feet should’ve been. “I shall take my leave. My powers are expended for now. If he doesn’t reveal himself soon, then I shall attempt to secure him once more. The elves won’t be so unprepared next time, however, and their magics are old and powerful. Perhaps it is best to wait until the boy leaves the elven city. In the meantime, you should anticipate his moves and position your forces to intercept him. I shall inform the warlord of our discovery.”
Although disappointed at the result, Tellast was relieved when the fiend glided off into the darkness. “That failure is on you and your ilk, not on me,” he muttered to himself. He took a drink from his wineskin and plotted his next move.
Word had come earlier that his soldiers had been ambushed by elven archers. Fortunately, he and Glurk had withdrawn, along with a pair of inquisitors and a handful of soldiers. He could always get more grunts, but the loss of half his inquisitors was a blow.
He touched the knot on the back of his head from where the mageling had struck him with the pommel of his dagger during their improbable escape the past morning.
You won’t be able to evade me for long, boy. When you emerge from the forest, I’ll be waiting.
Chapter 24
Taren woke the next morning to find Elyas gone from his bed. He stood up and stretched then noticed the door to the atrium was open, the sounds of birdsong filtering through. The big man sat relaxing in a chair in the garden, sunlight streaming in on his face. His neck was bruised from the attack of the prior evening, but other than that, he seemed in good health.
“Elyas! How are you feeling?”
“I’m well, Cousin.” Elyas rose and clasped Taren’s hand. “Where in the realms are we?” He eyed Taren’s shimmering robes curiously.
“You wouldn’t believe everything that happened. This is the heartwood tree, the estate of the elven royal family Daerodil and current residence of Princess Zylka.” He grinned at Elyas’s shocked look. “We’re her honored guests in Egrondel… well, were, until last night. We have to be leaving this morning,” he said with regret.
He sat down in the grass by his cousin and quickly related all the events since Elyas had fallen unconscious from his wound back in the forest, up until Taren’s relief upon returning to his room and finding Elyas and Enelwyn both well after the creature’s attack the past night. The elven maid had been conscious when led away by her fellow healer to her chambers to rest. She claimed to feel fine other than a headache and had no memory of the attack by the invisible creature. Elyas had been sleeping still as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred, not realizing how close to death he’d been.
“That’s quite the tale… You sure you haven’t drunk too much wine and lost your wits?” he asked suspiciously. “Or mayhap they were scrambled from that blow to the head?”
Taren winced at the memory and touched the knot on his head where he had struck the deck. It was sore to the touch but didn’t trouble him much if left alone.
“My neck is sore, but other than that, I feel great. I’d sure like to meet this elven maid who saved my life and give her my personal thanks.” Elyas’s eyes looked distant. “I thought that was a dream, but now I’m not sure. I briefly woke from the darkness to see a beautiful face shining like the sun with blue eyes as deep as the sky…”
“That was Enelwyn. You’d better wash your smelly arse before you meet her, then. There’s a pool of clean water over there.” Taren pointed to the path.
Elyas grunted in agreement. He took a towel from the room and wandered off into the garden to bathe.
Taren remained sitting in the grass for a few more minutes. When he went back inside, he found fresh travel clothes laid out for him and Elyas. A platter of food sat atop the dresser as well.
“I tried to have your old clothes laundered, but they wouldn’t do at all.” The petite chambermaid stood in the doorway, lips curled in a small frown. “And I had to search a bit to find something I could alter to fit your large friend.”
“Well, thank you for all your assistance, Aninyel,” Taren said. “On behalf of us both. You saved me from making a bad impression on the princess last eve. I would’ve gone to dinner looking like a pig farmer, had it not been for you.”
The maid’s crooked smile appeared on her face again. “I’m happy it went well. I daresay she enjoyed your dinner as well.”
“Well, at least until that creature broke in here during the night.”
Aninyel’s eyes narrowed, and some emotion flickered on her face briefly then was gone—shame, perhaps, though he had no idea why she would feel that. “Most disturbing, I must say,” she agreed. “I understand you will be departing this morn?”
“Yes. After what happened last night… Well, I don’t want any further threats finding their way here.”
The chambermaid looked somewhat disappointed. Before she could speak, Elyas walked through the door, whistling to himself. He had his small towel wrapped loosely around his waist although it barely covered his nakedness. He tossed his soiled, wadded-up clothes on the floor.
Elyas froze upon seeing Aninyel, and a long uncomfortable moment stretched on, with him and the elf staring at each other. The big man suddenly scrambled to adjust his towel better, but instead it came open, sliding down to the floor. He hastened to pull the curtain around himself instead, his face beet red.
Aninyel tittered with laughter, her gray eyes sparkling with amusement. “No need to cover up on my account, sir.”
Elyas opened his mouth but couldn’t come up with a suitable reply.
Aninyel looked back at Taren. “I wish you gentlemen farewell on your journey.” She curtseyed and departed although she cast an amused glance at Elyas before she disappeared out of sight, a smirk remaining on her face.
She must be of the younger generation, those much more accepting of outsiders, especially ones who act like inelegant oafs.
“Balor’s balls! You could have warned me,” Elyas grumbled.
Taren grinned. “How was I to know you’d come strolling in and drop your towel to the floor before a maid?”
Elyas muttered a curse but quickly regained his good humor. He held up the set of fresh travel clothes Aninyel had left on the bed, nodded in approval, and began dressing.
The clothing the chambermaid had brought was of finer quality than the threadbare tunic and breeches Taren and Elyas had been wearing, which would now be best served by burning. The clothing was sturdy and comfortable and looked as if it would be warmer as well, a benefit w
ith cooler weather approaching.
Taren quickly washed himself in the garden pool and dressed in the new clothes, finding they were also a perfect fit. He wondered again how the elves knew his measurements. He joined Elyas for breakfast although his cousin was nearly finished and indeed had eaten enough to nearly finish the platter. Taren didn’t go hungry, though, for he had eaten well the past evening and didn’t have a large appetite that morning.
They sat and discussed the next phase of their journey, and Taren realized he was saddened about departing. All his life, he’d dreamed of adventure and meeting other races and cultures. He knew he should be ready to get back on the road, but the thought of not seeing a certain princess again was somewhat depressing.
***
“Are you feeling well this morning, Zylka?”
The princess sat in the garden, the barely picked-over remains of her breakfast before her. Thoughts of the past evening filled her mind, and she had little appetite. She glanced over and smiled as her friend slumped into the chair across from her, where Taren had sat the past evening.
“I’m feeling fine, Ani. Just a few bruises from last night.”
Aninyel hooked a leg over the arm of her chair, slouching back, and regarded Zylka solemnly with her gray eyes. A knife appeared in her hand, and she twirled it idly between thumb and forefinger, the keen blade reflecting bursts of sunlight.
“I must apologize, for I should’ve been here last night,” Aninyel said. “I would’ve liked to test my skill against such a thing as that.”
“It’s no matter. You were delivering the message to Captain Kinnel at the barracks as instructed. I’m saddened by the loss of Hervyl and the injuries to the others, yet in spite of the tragedy, some good did come out of it. Taren discovered something important about himself—he seems to have unlocked his magical talent.” She thought again of his eyes blazing like stoked coals and the immense power rushing out of him and destroying the invisible beast choking the life from her.
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