Into the Wastelands: Book Four of the Restoration Series

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Into the Wastelands: Book Four of the Restoration Series Page 9

by Williams, Christopher


  Flare did as he was told and she began rubbing the liquid into his raw wrists and forearms. The liquid was warm and immediately the pain eased. He grinned at Diana, “That feels good.”

  Diana returned the grin. “It should help with the pain and even speed the healing.” She continued rubbing for several more moments before she spoke again. “I’m sorry about the way I greeted your return. I shouldn’t have acted like that.”

  Swallowing hard, Flare considered what to say. He was in dangerous waters and he knew it. “Why were you so upset?” he asked hesitantly. “You knew that I would only be able to return infrequently.”

  Diana nodded, “I do know that, but I was expecting to know what you learned about the Valley of the Ancients. I assumed that you would return to let me know.”

  Flare nodded and felt relieved. He had feared that she suspected their relationship to be more than it was, but that fear was somewhat allayed.

  Silence enveloped them for a short while. Diana continued to tend his wounds but neither felt the need to speak. Finally, Flare asked, “Did you ever hear of a sorcerer named Gregeggor?”

  Diana paused in her work and her eyes flicked up to meet Flare’s. “Wherever did you hear that name?”

  “Then you have heard of him?”

  “Yes,” Diana answered, returning to tending his wounds. “He was a great Sorcerer, but that was a long time before I was born. Many think he was the greatest sorcerer ever.”

  He hesitated for a moment, not sure if she would believe him. “He taught me sorcery,” Flare finally said.

  Diana stopped her work on his wounds and leaned back away from him. “What?” she asked confused.

  “The Valley of the Ancients is something akin to this castle.” Her look was one of total confusion so Flare continued his explanation. “Members of the Dragon Order are trained by the spirits of the dead. Those who are the greatest at their art or craft are used to train new members,” he paused, wondering how best to explain everything. “Long ago, Wizardry was used to create a method for summoning the spirits to train new members to the Order. The spirit is summoned to a place called Sha’al. I went to Sha’al and met the spirit of Gregeggor. He trained me for nearly a century and then I returned to my world and only a couple of heartbeats had passed.”

  “A century?” Diana repeated the words in disbelief. “And you were trained by the Gregeggor?” She scooted forward on her seat. “Oh, the things you must have learned.”

  Flare nodded, “He is a very good teacher. When I returned to my world I was very disorientated. I had been warned to expect that, but the monk and his soldiers found me soon after and took me captive.” He paused, not sure exactly how to ask his next question, “Will you accompany me back to retrieve the sword?”

  Diana smiled sympathetically. “I would but I have not the ability. I am tied to this place by my husband’s wizardry and cannot leave here.” She shook her head, “I’m sorry.”

  Flare sighed deeply. “All right. Any ideas on how to minimize the disorientation upon my return to my world?”

  Diana grinned again, but this time it was encouraging. “Actually, yes. My husband spent time working towards that very goal and he made some progress.”

  “How so?” Flare asked, surprised. This was the first time he was hearing about this. “Is there anything that I can use?”

  Diana didn’t answer immediately but instead moved over and poured herself a glass of wine. After a moment she turned her attention back to Flare. “There was one way that we had some success.”

  “We?” Flare repeated. “You helped with these experiments?”

  “Yes,” Diana said. “We found one method that worked reasonably well.”

  Hope began to blossom within Flare. Maybe this would work after all.

  Diana held up one finger, “There is one minor situation that arises from using this method though.”

  Flare sighed. Of course there is, he thought. “What is it?” he asked. To his astonishment, Diana chuckled.

  “Be at peace. The affects are not bad.” She paused briefly and studied Flare. “I’m not sure that you will like the procedure though.”

  “And why is that?”

  “You must let me into your mind,” Diana answered.

  Flare leaned back in surprise. Sorcerers could influence other people’s thoughts and actions, and really powerful sorcerers could actually take control of another person’s body. A person who was trained in sorcery had the ability to resist this form of control. Diana’s plan required Flare to lower his defenses and let her in his mind.

  Frowning, he motioned for her to continue.

  “What my husband and I were able to do was use my mind to steady him during the trip from the castle back to your world. He arrived without any disorientation or problems.”

  “So, if I let you in my mind, then you can get me back safely,” Flare said. He didn’t like lowering his defenses, even to a woman he somewhat trusted.

  “There is one problem, though,” Diana said. She continued on quickly, “You should not return here for several weeks.”

  Flare’s eyes widened in surprise. “Why?”

  She shook her head. “We never exactly determined the problem, but the first time my husband and I did this, he returned immediately to tell me it worked. When he arrived, he was violently ill. He spent the next two weeks in bed barely able to keep down broth.” She paused again, apparently to give Flare a chance to think about what she had just told him.

  Flare considered for a moment. “So, if I wait several weeks will that make me able to return here without being sick like that?”

  “Yes,” Diana answered. She seemed relieved that Flare was still considering her idea. “When the doorway between the castle and your world closes, my connection with you will be severed. We believed that the problem came from this sudden breaking of our mental connection. Wait a fortnight and you can return here just fine.”

  Flare nodded. He was thinking fast. This method would let him get back safely to his world and then it would be up to him to wrestle Ossendar back. “Let’s do it,” he said after a moment’s more thought. “If things go badly, then I just won’t have a way to escape easily.”

  “That’s not exactly true,” Diana said quickly. “If things go badly, then you can still use the pouch. You’ll just be in misery for a week or two, but that’s still better than dying.”

  Flare lifted his own glass of wine in salute to her. It was hard to argue with her logic.

  When Diana was through tending his wounds, Flare changed clothes and strapped the loaned sword onto his hip. She led him through the castle to a small library. She wanted to reread her husband’s old journal, specifically dealing with the experiment they had done to let the old wizard return so easily to the natural world.

  While Diana hunted amongst the shelves, Flare sat in a small wooden chair, all alone with his thoughts. He had been at the castle for nearly two hours now and he desperately wanted to get back. He kept imagining Thomas and Jordan disappearing with Ossendar to Mul-Dune and the sword forever being beyond his reach. The thoughts scared him and that was surprising. There was a time, not too long ago, that he would have gladly given the sword away, but now he couldn’t imagine going on without it.

  “I’m ready,” Diana said, interrupting Flare’s brooding.

  He pulled his eyes from their study of the floor and looked up at her. She was a very beautiful and friendly woman and he genuinely like her. He still disliked the very idea of letting her into his mind, though. There were so many things that could go wrong, accidentally or intentionally. It wasn’t that he distrusted her, at least not specifically, he didn’t trust anyone anymore. It seemed that his feelings toward everyone else boiled down to how much or how little he distrusted them. It was a depressing feeling, he so desperately wanted to trust, but he found it so hard to do.

  Flare stood and nodded to the book in Diana’s hand. “Find what you needed?”

  She nodded. “Ye
s.” She glanced down at the book, “I’ve finished reviewing the notes and I’m ready. She paused again and looked at him. “Are you prepared to let me in?”

  He took a deep breath and nodded. It felt like he was climbing the gallows. He was quite sure that Gregeggor would not have approved, but the old sorcerer was not here and sometimes you had to take a chance.

  Grinning, Diana stepped close and slid her left arm through Flare’s right. “Don’t worry,” she said, “I promise not to do anything but help you get home.”

  Flare nodded, “Let’s get this over with.”

  She led him back through the castle, down several flights of stairs, and finally into the very room where he had arrived.

  Still grinning, Diana turned to face Flare and placed her hands on his temples. “Relax. This won’t hurt.”

  Closing his eyes, Flare breathed slowly. His stomach was tied up in knots, both at letting another sorcerer into his head and at possibly losing Ossendar.

  After several moments he felt her mind trying to reach his and he forced himself to let his defenses down. It took everything he had to let her in, but after several moments he could feel her thoughts and feelings within his own mind.

  “We’re ready,” Diana said.

  At least he thought she spoke, but he wasn’t sure. It was possible that he just heard her thoughts within his own head.

  “Relax,” Diana said.

  The next moment the room seemed to spin away. It felt exactly like the last time he had left the castle and returned to his world, but at the same time it felt different. Even with his eyes closed, Flare could tell that things were spinning, but it didn’t seem to bother him this time, at least not like before.

  His feet hit the ground and Flare opened his eyes. With a start he realized that he was back in the clearing where the battle had taken place. The corpses of the creatures were still lying where they had fallen.

  He yanked the sword from its sheath and spun, looking all around. There wasn’t any sign of Thomas or Jordan.

  “Flare, be care…” Diana’s voice started to say but it cut off in mid-sentence. With a certainty, he knew the doorway had closed and he was alone. For a moment, he relaxed knowing that his mind was once again all his own.

  Looking around, Flare realized that he was standing in the exact spot where they had made camp the night before, but the fire pit was the only visible reminder of their camp. All three packs were gone. Even Bran’s body was missing.

  Flare frowned, confused. What had they done with Bran’s body? It seemed certain that they didn’t intend to carry it all the way to Mul-Dune, but then again the fort couldn’t be that far away. Perhaps they would carry it the half a day or so to the fort.

  He scanned the thick trees that grew all along the edge of the clearing. The sun had come up in the couple of hours that he had been away and it was a nice clear day. He could see everything in the clearing, but anyone or anything could be hiding in the tangled mess of vegetation that formed its boundary.

  He considered reaching out with his spirit. He should be able to locate the two humans fairly easy, but Thomas would undoubtedly realize what he was doing and hasten their escape. He didn’t want to scare Thomas away if the two men were still in the area, but he had to do something. He cast around for an idea. In desperation he seized control of his spirit and began examining the clearing. He avoided the corpses but searched the rest of the clearing for any sign of his former captors.

  His heightened senses quickly picked out signs of people leaving the clearing. The tracks headed southeast, towards Mul-Dune.

  Panicky, Flare considered charging off after the men. They most likely would be walking, since Jordan was injured and Thomas must be carrying Bran’s body. Their two hour lead was sizeable, but not insurmountable.

  He resisted the urge to run blindly into the forest, something didn’t feel quite right to him. He considered again why they had taken Bran’s body. It simply didn’t make any sense. The body would slow them down and Thomas’ main concern now had to be to get Ossendar to Mul-Dune.

  Flare still held his spirit. He closed his eyes and sent his spirit out to the southeast, slowly though, in a probing manner. There was plenty of life that way, animals abounded, but nothing sentient. Frowning now, he directed his spirit farther and farther. Throwing caution away, he searched far and wide and at last he found what he sought, well sort of. He could sense one human moving in a southeasterly direction.

  Forcing himself to breathe slowly, Flare fought through the anxious and panicky thoughts. There had to be a reasonable explanation as to why he could only feel one of them out there.

  The first thought that came to mind was that Jordan’s injuries were worse than he had previously realized. Perhaps the man had died after the battle this morning. That really didn’t make any sense either. If both Bran and Jordan had died, surely there would be a body or some other sign. As it was, there was nothing.

  He considered for another couple of moments and wondered if they had gone in different directions. This also was rather unbelievable. The only reason he could think of for them to split up was to set some sort of trap. If that was the case the tracks leaving the clearing should go in different directions.

  He sighed deeply and a memory came to him. Gregeggor had taught him how to shield his presence from other sorcerers using something called a concealment ward. He hadn’t thought of it sooner, because it was rather advanced sorcery and Thomas’ skills had been rather basic for the most part. The more he thought about it, though, the more he remembered inconsistencies. While most of the sorcery that Thomas used was rather basic, he had, on occasion, displayed more advanced skill. Perhaps the monks had gaps in their knowledge.

  Flare began walking, following the steps of the two humans, all the while he was thinking hard about what their plans may have been.

  It seemed obvious that Thomas was trying to shield himself from being discovered by Flare. If the monk thought he could hide himself, then it would make sense for Thomas to be lying in wait somewhere along the path that Jordan had followed. They had to suspect that Flare would do everything possible to retrieve Ossendar.

  Flare paused just short of the trees, still thinking hard. If he followed the trail blind, then he would have to go slow so as to make sure that Thomas didn’t surprise him. There was another option but he wasn’t sure it was such a good idea. He had learned another ward that would arc outwards from the sorcerer, and it should shatter the ward that Thomas was using to hide himself. The problem was, as soon as Flare did this, then Thomas would know his plan had failed and he might run. Flare desperately wanted to catch the man and not let him get away.

  After a moment or two of thought, Flare closed his eyes and concentrated as he had been taught. He kept his eyes closed, marshalling his spirit. After nearly a quarter of an hour of preparation, Flare opened his eyes and felt the power flow outwards in all directions.

  His whole body sagged and he nearly collapsed. He was exhausted. His body had been pushed beyond its limits, first by his imprisonment and now he was pushing it too hard with this necessary bit of sorcery.

  He breathed deeply for several moments and then tentatively reached out again. This time, he found another’s presence less than a quarter mile from his current location.

  Chapter 9

  Flare jogged at a reasonable pace in the direction that his former captors had gone. One of them, he assumed it was Jordan, was a good ways to the southeast. It was worrisome that the man was so far away, but he had bigger concerns much closer.

  He was rapidly approaching the location of the second person, and this had to be Thomas.

  Flare was tired and his body had been through an amazing amount of abuse over the last several weeks, but he still eagerly wanted to catch Thomas. He owed the man so much.

  He could still feel the monk’s presence. There had been some basic movement, right after Flare had used a powerful amount of sorcery to defeat the other’s concealment ward. T
homas was probably coming out of whatever hole he had hidden in. He had to know there wasn’t any point in hiding now. Flare was just relieved that the monk hadn’t begun running.

  He was in the trees again. The forest was quite thick here, but the trees were thicker than the underbrush. Some of the tree trunks were blackened, as if by a fire, and that seemed to have kept the underbrush from getting too thick. It was actually rather pretty. The tall trees reached into the heavens and covered Flare and the surrounding area in shade. Bright green bushes and undergrowth covered the ground, but still here and there the black remnants of the fire peeked through.

  Flare slowed from a jog to a quick walk. He could sense the other’s presence and didn’t want to charge into the situation blind.

  Cresting a small rise, he looked down on a break in the forest. A gap of about twenty yards separated the trees on this side, from the trees on the other side. At first, he thought it was natural, but as he got closer he could see that it was an ancient stone road that ran through the forest. He stopped and gazed in wonder on the scene. He knew that there were old roads in the forest on this side of the mountains, but this road had been built by masters. Even after such a long time without any use, the blocks still sat close together. Only a few, here and there, had been dislodged by roots and such. The road ran from Flare’s left to his right, east to west.

  “Amazing, isn’t it?” Thomas’ voice called out from the far side of the road.

  Flare slowly turned to look over at the monk. “Yes,” he called back after a moment. “So, your plan was to catch me by surprise?”

  Thomas nodded, “Yes, but I guess that doesn’t much matter anymore. Whatever it was you did nearly made me fall out of the tree where I was hiding.”

  Drawing his sword, Flare stepped out onto the old road. “Where’s Ossendar?”

  Grinning, Thomas made a vague wave behind him. “I sent it on with Jordan. It’s beyond your reach now.”

  “Perhaps,” Flare answered. He remembered Bran’s missing body and spoke before he thought, “And Bran? What did you do with him?”

 

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