Raging Sea and Trembling Earth: Disciples of the Horned One Volume Two (Soul Force Saga Book 2)

by James Wisher

  He gave a mighty tug and screamed in pain when his shoulder dislocated. His hand slipped into the satchel. Smooth, cold metal greeted his fingers. A moment later pain unlike anything he’d ever felt coursed up his arm and across his chest. It felt like the life was being ripped out of him.

  The bands vanished freeing his arms and legs.

  “No!” The woman screamed and sent blasts of golden light at him.

  They vanished just like the bands. Jonny smiled through the pain. Whatever he had kept the sorcerer’s power from reaching him. He dug the cylindrical object out—it looked like an urn—and held it toward her. Black lightning streaked out.

  She moaned and collapsed.

  Jonny wasn’t far behind, only sheer willpower kept him on his feet. He slammed the urn back into the satchel and tore his fingers free. The pain vanished along with the crackling lightning. He didn’t have long. Every sorcerer in the city probably sensed that outburst.

  He tied the rope around one of the crenellations and threw it over the wall. He grabbed it and slid down, his already raw hands burning. He hit the ground and ran for the tree line. If he got out of sight before they spotted him he could disappear, find his contact, and trade the urn for a new start. Somewhere far away from the capital.

  Chapter 18

  Alden knelt beside the grandmaster, sealing his wounds and reconnecting severed intestines. The wound looked far worse than it was. Someone not trained in healing would have feared the patient had no chance, but he knew better. No major arteries had been hit so he had plenty of time to repair the damage. After a minute or two he had the majority of his patient’s wounds sealed.

  A deep, masculine scream pierced the air. Sounded like Imogen had gotten her man. He wasn’t worried about his partner killing their prisoner. Despite her constant anger, Imogen was a professional. While he wouldn’t put it past her to start the questioning a little early, she wouldn’t do him any permanent harm.

  Hopefully.

  He’d barely returned his attention to his patient when another scream echoed through the dojo, this one decidedly feminine in character. How in heaven’s name had a nobody like Jonny Linn gotten the drop on Imogen?

  Alden looked from his still-bleeding patient to where he’d heard Imogen’s scream. Imogen needed him, but he couldn’t just leave a bleeding man.

  He felt it then. The corrupt power of the urn. Somehow Jonny had activated it and used it on Imogen. How had he managed it? The little research they’d done suggested it required a sorcerer to activate the urn. That was why they hadn’t been concerned about Carmen using it.

  Damn it! What should he do?

  Alden checked the grandmaster’s wounds again and found most of them closed. The main gash in his abdomen still gaped open, but the bleeding had slowed. Some time during his treatment the old man had lost consciousness.

  He turned to the boy. “Stay with him. Keep pressure on the wound. I have to check on my partner, but I’ll be back.”

  The boy stared at him with wide eyes. Alden put him out of his mind, rushed out of the dojo, and flew up on the wall where he’d seen Jonny jump the gap. Imogen was lying unconscious on the walkway. There was no blood at least. She didn’t have so much as a bruise.

  Alden knelt beside her. Imogen’s soul force was still flowing, but her core had been drained. He checked her pulse to confirm what his sorcerous vision was telling him. He found it strong and steady.

  He let out the breath he’d been holding. She’d be okay. He couldn’t guess how long she’d be out, but he felt confident she would eventually wake up.

  A rope was tied to the wall, no doubt how their prey had escaped. Alden looked out across the open ground. A figure was running east toward the tree line. That had to be Jonny Linn.

  Alden ground his teeth. Everything in him screamed that he should pursue the man, but he couldn’t leave Imogen and the grandmaster. Not to mention it would be the height of stupidity to chase after Jonny before he knew how to counteract the effects of the urn. For now he had no choice but to let the bastard escape.

  But only for now. Sooner or later they’d catch him. He only hoped it was before Jonny delivered the urn to Connor Blackman.

  Alden conjured a disk under his partner and carried her back to the dojo. He set Imogen on the floor well away from the pool of blood. There was nothing he could do for her right now so he returned to his original patient.

  “Is your friend okay?” the boy asked.

  “She will be.” Hopefully. “Let’s see about getting your master back on his feet.”

  “Yes, sir.” The boy knelt and touched his head to the floor. “I don’t know how we can thank you for saving the grandmaster.”

  Alden patted his back. “No thanks are necessary. Looking after the peoples’ wellbeing is our job. I only wish I’d gotten here soon enough to keep him from getting hurt in the first place.”

  An hour later he had the grandmaster sealed up, and all his injuries fused back together. He’d be sore for a few days and have a nasty scar, but should make a full recovery. For the last five minutes of his healing Imogen had been groaning and thrashing around on the floor. Her core was almost full and he hoped she’d wake up soon.

  His young friend had run off a minute ago and just when Alden was starting to wonder where he’d gone, the boy emerged from a side door carrying a shallow basin of water. He set it beside Alden who gratefully began washing the blood from his hands. One of the advantages of a red tabard was the blood hardly showed.

  He’d just finished drying his hands when Imogen groaned even louder and sat up. Her head snapped toward Alden. “He escaped!”

  “I’m afraid so. I caught a glimpse of him entering the forest, but lost track of him after that.”

  “You didn’t go after him?” Imogen tried to climb to her feet and failed.

  “Considering what happened to you and the fact that I had a dying man to heal, I decided pursuit would be too risky. When you’ve recovered and we figure out how to deal with the urn, we can resume the hunt.”

  “I’m fine.” She made it to her knees this time before slumping back to the floor.

  “Clearly. What do you think about resting for another hour or two then going to talk to the archmage?”

  She sighed. “We don’t have much choice, but she’s not going to be very happy.”

  Chapter 19

  Eight hours of sleep did Damien a world of good. Twelve would have been better, but he wasn’t going to complain. They ate leftover stew and set out again. Leah stepped between two oaks so big he doubted all of them together could wrap their arms around one. Damien and Jen followed her into a twilight realm of towering oaks and maples, their tangled branches blocking most of the sun. In another month when the leaves came out the forest would feel like it was constantly night. Though the darkness was completely natural and he sensed no corruption, Damien found the atmosphere set him on edge.

  The first two hours went easy, the forest floor remained clear of brush and they only had to watch for the thick, snaking roots of the trees. It would have been much easier to simply fly over them, but Damien chose to honor Leah’s request and walk like a normal person.

  Gradually the trees became shorter and bushier, the path cluttered and choked with scrubby new growth. Damien couldn’t figure out why the trees would be younger in this part of the forest than they were at the edge.

  After thrashing through a patch of chokecherries he asked, “What happened here? I would have thought the trees would have gotten bigger the deeper in we went.”

  Leah stopped and turned back. “Not necessarily bigger, but the same size certainly. There was a fire thirty years ago during a bad drought. All the big trees died, many have crashed to the ground, and many more will fall in the years to come. This new growth, while less pleasant to walk through, makes wonderful forage for many animals.”

  “Couldn’t you have at least cut a path through it to your grove?” Jen asked.

  “That would make it
rather obvious where we live. We don’t generally encourage visitors, and those chosen to walk the Green Path will find their way to us regardless. Don’t worry, it’s only another three miles. We’re making much better time than I expected.”

  “Didn’t think a couple city kids could keep up?” Damien asked.

  “No, you and your sister have been a nice surprise. Though the way you thrash through the woods you certainly won’t be sneaking up on anyone.”

  Leah continued on and Damien shared a look with Jen.

  Jen shrugged. “Can’t fault her honesty.”

  Damien grunted and started walking. Noon came along with a break for jerky and water from a stream. Two hours after noon Leah stopped in front of an eight-foot-tall briar wall. Some of the vines had thorns an inch long. No way was he going through that without using a little sorcery.

  “Want me to clear a path?” he asked.

  “No need.” Leah raised her hands and the green glow appeared again. The brambles parted, opening a path for them. “We’ve arrived.”

  They walked down the vine tunnel which closed behind them. Damien sensed many soul forces ahead, none of them strong. That fit with what Leah had told them in the capital. At the end of the thorn tunnel a simple village of single room huts greeted them. There was no smithy or gardens or anything that looked unnatural. Even the huts resembled heaps of sticks stacked up and tied together with vines. Over the whole thing spread the crown of the biggest oak Damien had ever seen. Some of the branches were as big around as the trees they slept under last night.

  A few people were walking around the village, mostly older people and very young children. They dressed like Leah, in browns and greens. The cloth looked rough and homespun. They had no weapons other than an occasional belt knife.

  Everyone stared as they walked amongst the huts. Several people called Leah by name and waved. She had a smile for everyone. A little girl ran up with a reed basket filled with roots. Leah took one and bit the end off.

  “Thank you, little one.”

  The girl held the basket out to Damien and Jen. Not wanting to be rude, Damien reached for the mystery food, scanning it for poison as he did. He detected nothing unnatural or toxic so he helped himself to a small, wrinkled specimen. He bit into it and found the inside juicy and slightly sweet. From the dark, woody exterior he wouldn’t have imagined it would taste so good.

  “Thank you.”

  Jen finished her snack and nodded thanks as well. The girl ran off to rejoin an old couple Damien guessed were her grandparents.

  “What was that?” Damien asked. “I’ve never had anything like it.”

  “We call it welcome root.” Leah resumed walking. “Whenever someone comes back from a long journey one of the children will offer them a taste of home. It’s an old tradition. The wise one lives in the sacred temple. We’re almost there.”

  Leah led them to the massive tree in the center of the village. At its base was an opening with stone stairs leading down into the earth. It shouldn’t have surprised Damien that a group that worshipped earth energy should have an underground temple, but that didn’t make him any happier about going down those steps. With all the earthquakes they’d been having it would be a good place to get buried alive.

  If Leah felt any trepidation she gave no indication. “Come on. The wise one is waiting.”

  Damien gritted his teeth and followed her down the stairs. At the bottom, stone gave way to dirt. A green glow suffused the tunnel providing light and casting everything in shades of jade. The tunnel continued to angle down, deeper into the earth.

  Jen put a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t like this, little brother.”

  “Me neither, but we’ve come this far. We can’t quit now.”

  Leah looked back at them from a little ways down the tunnel. “Please hurry. He’s anxious to meet you.”

  “How do you know that?” Jen asked.

  “He’s all around us, at one with the earth force. The whole temple is an extension of his body.”

  Damien shook his head. If she was trying to set them at ease, Leah was making a poor job of it.

  Chapter 20

  Roots, some as fine as hair and others as big around as Damien’s forefinger, pierced an old man through the back, sides, and legs and held him against the wall, his feet sunk into the earth up to his ankles. His beard looked more like moss growing off a tree than hair. Most disconcerting were the wise one’s glowing green eyes. Despite the apparent wounds he showed no discomfort. Damien forced himself not to stare.

  The roots grew out of the wall in a round chamber Damien guessed sat at the center of the complex directly under the great oak. A damp, earthy scent—like after a rain storm when worms covered the cobblestone streets—filled the air. The whole place felt ancient, far older than anywhere Damien had ever visited.

  Leah fell to her knees on the dirt floor. “I have brought help, Wise One.”

  “Well done, Leah.” The emerald gaze turned to take in Damien and Jen. “Thank you for coming to our aid. In all our years of walking the Green Path no druid has ever committed such a crime. There can be no greater betrayal than to interfere with the earth force’s natural course.”

  “They didn’t do the capital any good either.” Damien did his best to keep his expression neutral. Considering he was talking to a man growing out of a wall he thought he did okay. “Do you have any idea who’s behind it?”

  The wise one spread his hands. “If I hadn’t felt the ley line shift I wouldn’t have believed one of us capable of something like this, and if one of us could commit such a crime then any of us could. There are only three I trust completely: myself; my granddaughter, Leah; and my second, Eleck. Everyone else I must remain suspicious of until they are proven loyal.”

  “So how many people are we talking about?” Jen asked.

  “The whole community is three hundred and twenty-seven people, but only forty have the ability to interact with the earth force to a sufficient degree that they could be a part of moving the ley line.”

  “That’s not so bad,” Damien said. “We can start interviews today and be finished in another day or two. Anyone that refuses to talk to us you can assume is one of the bad guys.”

  Damien sensed the newcomer a moment before he entered the chamber. “Forgive me, Wise One. I came as soon as word of the outsiders’ arrival reached me.”

  “Do not be concerned, Eleck. We’ve only just begun our discussion.”

  Eleck held out a gloved hand to Damien. “It’s good of you to come. This matter has left everyone most distressed.”

  Damien shook his hand. Eleck had a firm grip for a man that appeared well into his fifties. He wore his long, dark hair tied back in a tail, lines of gray shot through it. Fine wrinkles from a life in the sun surrounded brown eyes. Eleck wore the same brown and green outfit as everyone else in the place.

  He shook Jen’s hand and eyed the hilt of her sword. “I hope you won’t have need of that.”

  “Likewise, but in my experience it’s better to have it and not need it than the other way around.”

  “If you say so. We are not warriors here.”

  Leah groaned and fell on her face.

  Damien took a step toward her.

  “It’s all right,” the wise one said. “She’s used up the last of her strength and must rest. Did she explain it to you?”

  “The little death?” Damien asked.

  The wise one nodded. Beside him a nest of roots grew out of the floor. “Put her here, Eleck.”

  Eleck scooped Leah up, carried her over to the bed of roots, and set her inside. The roots closed around her like tentacles, a green glow suffusing the whole thing.

  “It might be best to wait until she recovers to begin your investigation,” the wise one said.

  Damien grimaced. Every moment they waited gave their enemies more time to cause trouble.

  “Can’t Eleck assist us?” Jen asked.

  “I’m at your disposal, of cou
rse,” Eleck said.

  “No, you have your own tasks and if you neglect them someone will certainly notice. Best to wait. I will speed her recovery so you can begin tomorrow.”

  Damien had been around enough leaders to know a final verdict when he heard it. He bowed to the wise one. “As you wish, sir.”

  “Eleck, show them to the guest quarters.”

  Chapter 21

  Karrie sat beside her father on a little padded stool in the throne room and listened as guard after guard came in, reported on the rescue effort, and went. It seemed almost nonstop, one tale of catastrophe after another. To make matters worse Daddy had sent Damien and his sister to hunt down whoever caused the quake. As much as Karrie wanted to finish their conversation of two nights past even she recognized preventing another quake was the priority.

  Off to one side the archmage and a pair of sorcerers had their heads together, deep in conversation. After two days of going nonstop, even the invincible Lidia Thorn looked worn out. How was Damien holding up? Karrie knew she shouldn’t worry. Damien was young and strong. If anyone could figure out what had happened he and Jen could.

  Two of the door guards hustled in and announced, “Duke Iceborn and his heir, Sigurd.”

  What in the world were Sig and his father doing here? Daddy waved the guard he was speaking to away just as the duke and Sig entered. Both men wore blue and white robes trimmed with arctic fox fur. The hilt of a sword jutted up over Sig’s shoulder.

  Karrie had heard the story of his duel with Damien. How did he dare wear a sword after that? Maybe he counted on his rank and size to protect him.

  The duke swept through the room with Sig at his heels. It was easy to understand where Sig inherited his size; the duke stood well over six and a half feet tall. His thick, gray-streaked beard hung down to the middle of his chest. The duke paused before the throne and bowed to the king. Sig emulated his father, but by his sour expression he begrudged the effort.