by Jeri Baird
She cocked her head at a sound in the canyon mouth. Braying echoed through the rocks. She peeked around the corner. A spot of gray picked its way through the rock strewn path.
Dorothy.
Alexa had left her at the cottage. How and why did she follow Alexa? Alexa snapped her head back as a ball of energy raced toward her and crashed into the wall behind her. Heat filled the enclosure. Melina Odella had Alexa cornered and was moving closer. Alexa held out the stone. Its vibration cleared the negative energy that had accumulated in the cave-like enclosure.
Wave after wave hurtled toward Alexa. Her energy shield frayed at the edges. She couldn’t hold it strong for much longer against Melina Odella’s attack. She didn’t expect an easy fight, but Melina Odella’s strength surprised her. So many things her teacher had hidden from her.
Alexa stepped out, palms facing her teacher. “Melina Odella, you don’t have to do this. The village needs you.”
“When did they ever care about me? All they wanted was potions and spells. I hate them.”
“What about the children? You must care about them.”
For a moment, Melina Odella’s face softened. Then her eyes glittered. “Why should I? They grow up and forget that I kept them from starving. Not one ever comes back to thank me. I don’t care about any of them.” She spun and pushed a ball of energy at Dorothy.
Not Dorothy. Alexa watched the energy sail toward the donkey, who’d stopped to munch at a rare patch of grass between the stones.
The ball of energy sheared up and away to dissipate in the air above Dorothy. Melina Odella sent another and another. Dorothy ambled toward Alexa, unharmed.
Dorothy almost reached Alexa when Melina Odella conjured a black cloud of angry hornets and pushed it over Alexa.
Panicked, Alexa flailed. Welts rose on her arms and face as the hornets stung again and again. One eyelid swelled from a sting.
Dorothy’s nose touched Alexa’s arm, and the cloud streaked away. The donkey’s immunity to Melina Odella’s magic extended to her? Alexa caught her breath, gathered her energy, and sent it flying toward Melina Odella like a lightning bolt.
Seconds before it hit, Melina Odella wound her fingers through Sheba’s thick coat. The energy shot around her and set fire to a bush. The fortune-teller sneered, “It seems our patrons have an ability I wasn’t aware of. I call stalemate.”
What now? They both possessed weapons of magic, not swords or bows. Alexa hadn’t planned on needing anything else.
With one hand rooted firmly on Sheba, Melina Odella strode toward Alexa.
Alexa faced her teacher. Did she come to talk? They could still work together to protect the village.
Melina Odella stopped two feet in front of Alexa and sneered. She fumbled in her pocket with one hand, the other firmly on Sheba. Before Alexa realized what she held, Melina Odella splashed the liquid from a brown vial across Alexa’s face.
“Aconite,” Melina Odella spat. She cocked her head, and a slow smile spread across her face. “There’s no antidote.”
Alexa opened her mouth to scream, but numbness spread across her face and silenced her. Her heart beat erratically as the poison absorbed into her bloodstream. She dropped to her knees and clutched at Dorothy. Poison wasn’t magic. The donkey couldn’t help.
“You’re a stupid girl. Moira should have never chosen you.” Melina Odella grabbed Alexa’s scarf. “I don’t have time to wait.” She jerked, tightening the scarf around Alexa’s neck.
Gasping, Alexa fell to the ground between Dorothy’s feet. At the edge of death, in that moment of in-between, Moira appeared as a shimmer with long silver hair and emerald eyes soft with love.
Rage contorted Melina Odella’s face. “You come to save her?”
Moira ignored Melina Odella, speaking only to Alexa. “If you give up, fear wins.”
“It’s too late. I’m dying.” Alexa shivered. “I’m not strong enough.”
“The scarf has blocked your power. Release your fears. That scar has nothing to do with who you are. Alexa, find your love.”
Behind her heart, where her soul resided, a tiny silver spark ignited. She tended it with love. Zander, Mother and Father, Dharien, Merindah, Kaiya.
Zephyr.
Their love fed the flame until it consumed her and spilled into her aura. Clutching Dorothy, Alexa stood. She unwrapped the scarf and dropped it. She rubbed the red heart at her neck and felt the silver energy grow brighter.
Melina Odella gasped. Unable to withstand the light, she faltered and turned to the side.
“Will you stop now, Melina Odella? Help the village?”
The fortune-teller shook her head. “I will not!”
Tears flowed down Alexa’s cheeks as she yanked the foxglove pendant from her neck. She laid it in her palm, where it turned to powder. At her command, particles of poison drifted toward her teacher. The card of Death hovered over her.
Eyes frantic, Melina Odella stood rooted, held by a power stronger than Alexa’s. The powder swirled above her head while she tried to hold her breath and struggled to move.
Was there no other way? Alexa fought the urge to call back the powder, and then the fear in Melina Odella’s eyes made her reach out. She couldn’t kill her.
Her teacher expelled the breath she’d desperately tried to hold and breathed in the foxglove. Within seconds, she crumpled to the ground.
Sheba howled once and lay over the body.
Their bodies dissolved into dust and swirled away. They were gone.
Chapter SIXTY-THREE
Zander
Shadows crisscrossed the forest floor as Zander rode into the circle of warriors. Greydon lifted an eyebrow, but said nothing of the mountain lion.
Fulk glanced at Zander and then returned his scowl to the three prisoners. They sat back to back, hands and feet tied. Heads down, they refused to speak.
Near the stream, Father Chanse stood with the questers, quietly reassuring them. Clothing scorched, they slumped, exhausted. Their patrons nested in their arms.
The fire burning on the opposite side of the gulch would keep the Odwans from coming down that way. Red embers glowed from the east.
Zander gathered what energy he could find from the surrounding trees. It was weak, as if the trees mourned those lost in the flames. Somewhat renewed, Zander strode to the prisoners. He knelt, let down his guard, and gazed into one of the men’s eyes. The Odwan stared back defiantly, but in his heart, he was terrified. Not for himself, but for his wife and child. Zander turned to the other two prisoners and, using his gift, saw the same fears.
A jolt of understanding hit him. He looked like the Kharok, the tribe that forced the Odwans from their home. He motioned for Father Chanse. With his red hair, he looked Odwan, and he was a priest. The prisoners might respond to him.
He whispered to Father Chanse, “Tell them we won’t harm them if they don’t fight. Tell them . . .” Zander’s throat closed. “Tell them we won’t harm their women or children.”
Father Chanse repeated the message. The men glanced from Father Chanse to Zander. He nodded to affirm the message. “We won’t harm you if you don’t fight.” Fulk marched them up the side of the gulch as dark settled over the camp.
Zander turned to the warriors who surrounded him. “Bindi? With your favor of seeing in the dark, take the first watch.”
“I’ll stand with her.” Paal joined Bindi, and they melted into the darkness.
“I have an idea,” said Yarra. “It involves the questers.”
Zander motioned her to follow him. He rubbed his thigh. It ached, and probably wouldn’t get any better. “Greydon, Dharien—join us.”
As he led them to a circle of tree stumps, children climbed down into the gulch, laden with baskets of dried meat, bread, and cider. As soon as they made the delivery, they scrambled back up. Zander welcomed
the comfort of good, hardy food, even with his stomach in knots. His energy grounded in the normalcy of eating, restoring his calm, but a gnawing fear swirled in his gut. Where was Alexa? And Kaiya and Odo should have been back.
The other warriors lit torches and settled in small groups, talking in low voices as they ate. Eva moved among them, checking for injuries and calming nerves with her presence.
Zander sat with Greydon, Dharien, and Yarra. “What’s your idea?”
“Send the questers up the west side of the canyon,” Yarra began. “They’re nimble enough to climb onto the rock ledge and wait for the Odwans. They have plenty of omens left.” She smirked. “Their bad behavior is paying off. Once the Odwans cross over the edge, the questers can toss omens down after them. They’re already spooked.”
“No.” Zander didn’t want to risk them. “It’s too dangerous. They’re too young.”
“Zander,” Dharien interrupted. “They’re only a year younger than we are. If not for the Odwans, they’d be questing right now. The quest is hardly safe.”
Zander hesitated. Dharien spoke true, and yet . . . he slapped at a mosquito. Damn. They needed every advantage.
Dharien grinned as he rubbed the jagged scar on his cheek. “Two of them have black panther omens. That ought to create some mayhem.”
“Better the Odwans than the questers,” Zander conceded. He hated sending them into more danger. “Dharien, go convince Father Chanse. He won’t like it.”
As he left, Bindi called, “Someone’s coming up the stream from the west.”
Next to him, Greydon swore, “Hells, I hope it’s Odo and Kaiya.”
It wasn’t. Elder Terrec, along with three burly Odwans and Del, emerged from the dark into the light of the torches. Clothed in chest shields and carrying bows and swords, Terrec and the men sneered. “What did you think of my troops?”
“Your troops?” Zander spat as he jumped to his feet. Greydon, Yarra, and Bindi drew their bows behind him.
Terrec laughed, a rumbling, gloating sound. “How else did you think the Odwans could invade?” He tossed the missing money journal at Zander’s feet. “And with your cash to buy weapons, we’re well prepared to win.”
Zander held back from rushing the traitor. “I suppose they’ve agreed to your leadership?”
“Of course. Things will change in Puck’s Gulch.” He scowled. “And not your foolish plan of unity.”
“I won’t let you.” Zander planted his feet and drew his sword.
“Surrender, and we’ll spare the warriors’ lives.” Terrec snickered. “Except yours. We can’t have the esteemed leader free to plot against us. It’s a small sacrifice. Your life to save all. You want to be a hero? Now’s the time, boy.”
If it meant the other’s safety, Zander would consider it, but Terrec was bluffing. The warriors held the advantage.
“You’re too smug, Terrec.” Greydon raised his bow. “We have no casualties, while a half-dozen Odwans are dead and three are prisoners.”
“Three men who were quick to spill their guts for clemency,” Zander added. It was a lie, but Terrec reacted as Zander hoped.
Terrec’s face contorted and his already red complexion turned blotchy. “Three men who will die,” he snarled. “I tolerate no cowards.”
From behind Terrec, Dharien raised his bow. “I say we kill him now.”
The warriors chanted. “Kill him, kill him.”
Del turned and trained his bow on Dharien.
Zander raised his hand. Terrec wouldn’t surrender. He glanced at Del’s stony face. No sympathy there. Maybe the war-weary men with them would listen. He looked to them. “We offer peace. Join our village, and we’ll accept you as our own.”
They crossed their arms and shook their heads. He looked back at Terrec. For once, the elder met his gaze, and in his eyes Zander discovered a secret that gutted him. Zander had to end the war and surrender. Before he could step forward and lay down his bow, a second secret rose: the warriors would be killed, and so would anyone else, male or female, who Terrec felt threatened his leadership. Any decision Zander made was wrong. Someone he loved would die.
He shouted at Dharien, “Stop!”
“Zander! Watch out!” Bindi yelled.
A knife flew from the shadows. It stabbed into Zander’s injured thigh. He fell to his knees, gasping at the pain.
Terrec and his men backed away. “You have until dawn to decide,” Terrec snarled. He turned and receded into the dark with his men.
Greydon knelt at Zander’s side. With one smooth pull, he yanked out the knife and pressed a cloth against the wound. “Why didn’t you let us shoot him? Five against the warriors? We would have taken them easily.”
Zander choked out, “They have Kaiya and Odo. They’ll be killed if Terrec doesn’t return.”
Chapter SIXTY-FOUR
Alexa
The crescent moon fell behind the west rim of the canyon. Night fell, so black Alexa couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of her. She slumped against Dorothy. She’d killed Melina Odella. Zander had a chance. Should she stay in the canyon? There was no body to bury, but didn’t her mentor deserve some sort of memorial at her passing?
She lifted her hands and spoke to the heavens. “Receive Melina Odella’s spirit.” She hesitated. “I forgive you, my teacher. May you be at peace.” She wasn’t good with words like Merindah. “So be it.”
Dorothy nudged Alexa’s arm and lowered her head. Alexa wove her fingers through the donkey’s mane and pulled herself onto her back. She rode out of the canyon, jostling on Dorothy’s back as the donkey picked her way out.
She’d killed Melina Odella.
Alexa leaned down against Dorothy’s neck and sobbed. Did this happen because of the love potion Alexa had asked Melina Odella to concoct on that hopeful day over a year ago? Merindah spoke true. Melina Odella’s hatred began the day Father Chanse drank the potion. Breaking out of the canyon, Alexa urged Dorothy to continue along the stream at the bottom of the gulch. Another hour and they’d reach Zander. No sounds broke the quiet. Her thoughts tumbled around one thing—she’d killed Melina Odella.
Next to the donkey, Moira appeared as the crone. For a few minutes, she walked in silence. Alexa took comfort from her presence. She had questions but not the courage to ask. Did she want to know why this happened? What was done, was done.
As if she knew Alexa’s thoughts, Moira said, “Alexa, take responsibility for your actions, but only your own. Dharien and Melina Odella made their choices of their own free will.”
“But I used the love potion.”
Musical laughter filled the stillness and bounced off the canyon walls. “Magic is strong, but not powerful enough to make one fall in love. It was merely effective in the idea of it.”
Confused, Alexa blurted, “They didn’t know I poured a love potion in the cups.”
“Didn’t they?”
“No. I told no one.” Alexa searched her memory. Not even Merindah knew her plan.
“There was one other who knew.”
“Melina Odella?” Alexa frowned, trying to sort out Moira’s accusation.
Silence from Moira.
“Why?”
“In confiding to the priest, the fortune-teller gave him an excuse to act on his feelings without assuming the consequence. He kissed her because he desired it, and then he regretted it. But still, he could place the blame on you.”
“What about Dharien? He didn’t know.”
“He’d gone to Melina Odella for the same potion you requested. She told him what he needed to do, to convince you he loved you.”
Dharien knew the potion was in the cup? “Dharien’s reaction to my confession in the quest was false?”
“He didn’t know you intended it for Paal. He was crushed by your confession.”
Alexa reeled. Was everythi
ng she believed about Dharien based on lies? Did he love her now, or was that another lie?
Moira touched Alexa’s arm. “Not everything is as it seems. Search your heart for truth. For too long, you’ve allowed your mind to rule.”
Alexa closed her eyes and thought of Dharien. Before the quest, his love was self-serving and possessive. Their fight with the panthers changed him. She realized then the moment he shifted. It was when she’d lain, blood coursing from her neck, at the edge of death. Was this why they fought the panthers? To change their hearts? After the quest, she’d told him she forgave him, but had she? She’d been so quick to believe he’d helped Lash. Her heart nearly broke as she imagined his pain. As soon as the war ended, she’d make things right.
When Alexa opened her eyes, Moira said, “I give you one warning. Be careful how you use the omens. Dark magic is attracted to light.” And with that, Moira disappeared.
Dark was attracted to light—what did Moira mean?
Dorothy halted and Alexa bumped against her neck. The crunch of footsteps and men’s voices drifted toward her. She was too exhausted to do more than cower against Dorothy. When five torches bobbled into sight, curiosity overcame her fear, and she urged Dorothy to inch forward. Five men came into view. Terrec and Del were with Odwans? She shrunk back, heart pounding. Terrec had disappeared to help the Odwans! She’d been reckless to move so close.
What an evil, evil man he was. So callous he’d sacrifice his fellow villagers—for what? More power? What had he promised the Odwans if they won? How could a person be so heartless? She thought of Zeph. How did his gentle soul come from one so vile?
A sob escaped her and she jerked upright. If Terrec heard her . . .
But some kind of luck must have been with her. They turned and hiked up a steep trail without noticing her. Alexa released a long breath. A half-hour later, she rode up on the warriors.
Dharien spun and aimed his bow at her. “Stars! Alexa?” He ran to catch her as she slid from Dorothy’s back. “You’re stung!” He carried her to where Zander slouched on a fallen tree, looking grave. Equally grim, Greydon sat next to him.