by Dean Cadman
Lusam nodded. “I understand. Just make sure you have something ready for my headache when I’m done.”
Arlo chuckled. “I’ll do my best. Good luck,” he said, placing his hand on Lusam’s shoulder and gently questing out towards his mind. Lusam took a deep breath and placed his own hand on the block of stone. A moment later it was flowing effortlessly from one shape to another. Arlo opened the Guardian book, and Lusam saw a brief flash. Then there was nothing…
***
Captain Waylon watched his crewman return alone from The Pearl Isle and cursed under his breath. The sky had continued to darken ominously off to the south, announcing yet another winter storm was on its way—and a bad one too, by the looks of it. He had dropped Lusam and Neala ashore three days ago, but shortly after setting foot on the island, Lusam had vanished into the sea without a trace. Neala had been almost hysterical when she had contacted the ship an hour or so later, but had flatly refused to leave the island until he returned. Captain Waylon sent a small boat to search for him, but an hour before nightfall they had been forced to retreat and seek shelter further along the coast, due to yet another winter storm. Before he left, Captain Waylon had managed to provide Neala with enough supplies for a couple of days, along with provisions for a meagre shelter. But he doubted very much that it would offer her much protection against the ferocity of the coming storm.
The crewman limped across the deck towards Captain Waylon, his shirt a tattered mess, and two faint crimson lines marred his cheeks.
“I thought I told you to bring her back with you?” Captain Waylon snapped at his man.
“Aye Capt’n, ya did. But she be mad that one, I tells ya. She said she b’ staying o’er there until her man comes back, and if we wants t’ leave her, we can. I tried t’ grab her, and she punched me in the nose. So I got m’ knife out, not meaning t’ hurt her like, only t’ scare her, and she did this t’ me,” he said, pointing to his bloodied face and shredded clothes.
“Damn that girl!” Captain Waylon said, through gritted teeth. “Didn’t you explain to her what’s coming? If she’s still over there when that storm hits, she’s likely to be joining Lusam at the bottom of the ocean.”
“Beggin’ ya pardon, Capt’n, but she didn’t give me much chance t’ explain anything. She’s mad I tells ya. Mad!”
Captain Waylon sighed loudly. “Well, there’s nothing much we can do about it now. If we don’t make safe harbour before that storm hits, we might all be joining our young mage on the bottom. I just hope she survives until we can return for her, or you’ll be the one explaining to Lusam why you left her there to die.”
The crewman’s eyes went wide and his face paled, but he didn’t argue with his Captain.
Chapter Forty-Six
Arlo noticed Lusam’s eyes begin to flicker as he slowly regained consciousness.
“Take it easy,” Arlo said, placing a hand on his shoulder. Lusam groaned and tried to open his eyes.
“Too bright,” he croaked, trying to shield his eyes.
“Oh, sorry,” Arlo replied, dimming the light orb above them. “Is that better?”
Lusam nodded, but still kept his eyes shut. His head throbbed painfully, but thankfully it was nowhere near as bad as he had expected it to be. He reached for his magic to block out the pain and was shocked by what he found. Even though his power reserves had been well over half-full before reading the book, they now appeared to be almost completely empty. At first, he thought that the Guardian book had taken it somehow, but as his mind cleared he realised that wasn’t the case at all. His capacity to store magic had grown beyond anything he could have imagined. He knew that it would increase after reading the Guardian book, just as it had done every time he had read one. But he had no idea that it would be by so much this time.
Slowly he opened his eyes and tried to focus on his surroundings, and was surprised to find that he was in his own room. The familiar fuzzy feeling of knowledge trying to assert itself within his mind seemed to slow his own thought processes to a crawl, as if he was thinking through thick molasses. His lips were dry and cracked, and his mouth and throat felt completely parched.
“Water,” he croaked, trying to sit upright on the bed.
“Easy… don’t rush it. You need to give yourself some time to adapt,” Arlo said, helping him to sit up and handing him a cup of water. He drank it down in one and held out the cup for more.
“What happened?” he asked, after his third cup of water.
“Well, you survived,” Arlo replied, light-heartedly.
Lusam opened one eye and fixed him in his gaze. “Evidently. But what happened?”
Arlo raised his eyebrows and shrugged. “Nothing much, really. It went far better than I expected it would. Ryuu absorbed the information as it was released by the book, then fed it back into your mind at a much slower rate. Once the book had released you, I moved you here to continue the process.”
“And how long have I been unconscious?”
“Three weeks,” Arlo replied, almost keeping a straight face. Even in his delicate state, Lusam didn’t fall for his ruse. He had come to know his father’s sense of humour quite well over the past five months. Not to mention it was probably something that he would have said in the same situation. He gave his father a knowing smile and asked again.
“How long really?”
“Just over a day.”
Lusam nodded. A day felt about right judging by his stomach, and how empty it was. He was just about to suggest that they went upstairs for something to eat when his father spoke again.
“I thought you were going to make something out of those,” he said, nodding towards the pile of hides in the corner of the room.
“Yeah, I was, but I don’t think there will be enough time now.”
“Do you mind me asking what you intended to make with them?” he asked curiously. Lusam hesitated, but after a moment decided that his father might as well be aware of the problem now, rather than later.
“I was going to make a new saddle for Ryuu. I saw the one in the storeroom and noticed that it was made to carry only one person, and we’re going to need room for three, including Neala.”
His father chuckled loudly. “Is that your way of telling me that Neala is coming with us to The Rift?”
Lusam smiled. “I guess so.”
“Then we can still make a new saddle together. We’ll have plenty of time for that.”
Lusam sat up straighter on his bed. “I don’t understand. I thought we would be leaving as soon as possible for The Rift, now that I’ve read the Guardian Book.”
“You may have read it, Lusam, but you don’t yet know how to use the information it has given you to its full potential. There are still many things that I need to teach you…”
“Like what?” Lusam asked, cutting across him.
His father took a deep breath and breathed it out slowly. A trait Lusam recognised as one he used when he didn’t want to reply too harshly to someone.
“Lusam, I understand that you want to leave this place as soon as possible, I really do. But it would be foolish to waste the opportunity to learn all you can here first, before facing what awaits you at The Rift. Three or four weeks more here, is less than a day in our world. And I don’t think one extra day will make that much difference, do you?” Arlo took something out of his pocket and placed it in front of Lusam on the bed. It was a Soul Stone. An unsubtle reminder of how he had defeated him using only a very limited amount of power, but a vastly greater knowledge of how to use that power.
Lusam felt like his heart had been ripped from his chest knowing that he would have to wait yet another month to see Neala, but he also knew that his father was right. A single day more would probably make little difference to the world outside, but gaining even part of his father’s vast understanding of magic just might.
He closed his eyes and nodded.
***
“Hold the line,” Renn shouted, as another three Netherworld creatu
res charged their position. Alexia took aim at the lead creature with her bow but held fast for Renn’s command. “Earth-bind!” he commanded, and as one the line of paladins plunged their weapons into the ground, forming an impenetrable barrier of Aysha’s light. Or at least it should have been impenetrable, but all it seemed to do to the latest batch of Netherworld creatures, was slow them down a little.
The three Netherworld creatures collided with the barrier of light and their black carapace-like armour began to smoulder and smoke. They hissed and screeched loudly as their skin blistered and bubbled, but they still pushed on towards the line of paladins. Renn nodded to Alexia, and she loosed the first of her arrows. One after another they flew through the air and struck their targets, each one flashing brightly on impact, and each one claiming another Netherworld creature’s life. Renn watched the inky blackness intently for any further signs of movement, before finally giving the order to retrieve Alexia’s blessed arrows.
The inky blackness had reformed around The Rift several days after Lusam and Neala had left on their quest, and since then they had dealt with it the same way they had the last time it appeared. By night the light from their blessed weapons slowed its advance, and by day the light of the sun burned it almost all the way back to The Rift again. At first, it hadn’t proven to be much of a threat. Apart from the odd Netherworld creature appearing and attempting to escape into the forest, it had been a fairly uneventful time—but that all changed seven days ago.
Ever since Captain Garett had arrived with reinforcements from Lamuria, and Aysha had re-blessed the weapons previously drained by the inky blackness, Hershel had felt confident in their ability to strike back. In the days following Lusam’s attempt to close The Rift, he had ordered several groups of paladins to begin sweeping the forest for any Netherworld creatures that had previously escaped their efforts to kill them. At first, they only hunted them during the day, returning to camp each night to rest. The aim was to kill the newest arrivals that could move around in daylight first, whilst avoiding the older generation of Netherworld creatures that only came out at night.
The first day was a complete success. They managed to kill more than a dozen creatures, and all without a single paladin being lost. The following days, however, were not so productive. Even though he didn’t have an exact number, Hershel still knew there were far more Netherworld creatures at large in the forest than they had already killed. Initially, he thought they had simply travelled further away from The Rift in order to find fresh prey, and so he allowed his hunting parties to roam further afield too—but with little success. And all the while, the inky blackness was ebbing and flowing from The Rift without any apparent change.
What nobody realised, however, was that strange new Netherworld creatures were emerging from within The Rift every few minutes during the hours of darkness. But instead of making their presence known by attempting to escape into the forest, they remained within the inky blackness, and just before the sun began to rise and burn away their cover, they sank silently into the ground at the very edges of its reach. Night after night the same thing occurred, and hundreds of creatures hid themselves beneath the earth’s surface ready to strike.
Not recognising any increased threat at The Rift, Hershel decided to take advantage of the apparent lull in activity, and ordered his hunting parties into the forest at night instead. He had come to the conclusion that if his paladins were not encountering the Netherworld creatures during the day, then they must have gone to ground for the daylight hours, but would rise again at night.
It was several days later when the new Netherworld creatures finally revealed themselves. It was just before dawn, when the extent of the inky blackness was at its greatest. By the time the warning shouts went up, it was already too late. Hundreds of them, each no bigger than a large dog, cascaded out from within the inky blackness towards the line of blessed weapons encircling The Rift. Alexia managed to get off several shots, but the sheer number of creatures was overwhelming. Then in the blink of an eye, one of the blessed weapons stopped glowing and opened a path directly into the forest for them. Like a giant mass of seething black beetles, they threaded their way through the gap and disappeared into the forest, as dozens of paladins watched on helplessly from their camp.
At first, the general consensus had been that it was just bad luck, and that one of the dead creatures must have inadvertently dislodged the blessed weapon from the ground as it was tossed around by the others. There was, of course, concern for the other paladins out on patrol, but no one really doubted that their training would prevail. Nor did anyone suspect that the new creatures could cross Aysha’s light.
When every paladin returned unscathed at dawn, the frayed nerves within camp began to settle once more. None of the hunting parties reported seeing or hearing any of the creatures in the forest whilst out on patrol, and therefore Hershel assumed they had all gone to ground for the coming day.
Hershel took the failure personally, blaming himself for sending so many of his paladins into the forest at a time when they had been needed within camp. He ordered a secondary line of defence to be placed around The Rift, reducing the number of spare blessed weapons by half. Then formed several hunting parties and led them personally into the forest, leaving Alexia in charge of the remaining paladins.
Screams echoed through the forest that night, chilling the blood of every man and woman who heard them, as entire parties of Paladins were overrun by the swarming creatures. Their well-drilled tactics were no longer effective against the creatures’ new ability to cross Aysha’s light. A general retreat was sounded, but it was already too late. Only the groups closest to camp, and a few lucky survivors made it back that night. The injured and dying littered the ground of their camp. Amongst them was Hershel, who had suffered a severe wound to his leg and lost most of his right arm before Renn had found him and dragged him back to camp.
Chaos filled the air as the remaining paladins fought off wave after wave of the new creatures, whilst at the same time trying to do what little they could for their injured comrades. The light of dawn had never been a more welcome sight. Out of the sixty paladins that entered the forest that night, twenty-eight never returned. And of those that did, only seven made it back without injury. It was a truly dark day for everyone involved—but it was soon to get much worse.
Five more paladins died of their injuries even before the sun had risen above the trees, and they struggled to save many more. They managed to stem the blood flow from Hershel’s injuries, but he continued to deteriorate, slipping in and out of consciousness all that day.
Alexia was overwhelmed by the sudden responsibility thrust upon her. She had barely completed her own training and now found herself responsible for so many other people’s lives. Fortunately, Renn had been there to remind her that Aysha had chosen her to do the job, and if Aysha believed her capable of it, she should not doubt herself. He had also promised to assist her in any way that he could, but insisted that she should always have the final say in any decisions taken. Alexia reluctantly agreed, and soon found that her first significant command decision had to be taken later that very day.
Several of the paladins who had suffered only minor injuries started to report the onset of headaches and nausea, and as the day progressed their symptoms only worsened. It didn’t take long for Alexia’s worst fears to be confirmed. Not only were the new Netherworld creatures able to breach Aysha’s light, but their bite was also poisonous. Alexia knew that she had to act fast or risk losing even more people. She immediately ordered a small group of paladins to return across the river to The Sanctum of Light and send word to the High Temple for all available healers to be sent immediately to The Rift. She just prayed they would arrive in time to help.
That was seven days ago, but as Alexia stared at the three dead Netherworld creatures by her feet, it felt like seven years ago.
“How is he?” Alexia asked quietly, as she took back her arrows from Renn. She saw him glance m
omentarily towards the temple foundations where all of the wounded were being treated, before returning his gaze to hers.
“He’s holding on, for now, lass,” he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “But I’m not sure for how much longer.”
Alexia turned away and closed her eyes. “Where are those damned healers?” she whispered to herself. Renn heard her words, but he knew they were not for him.
“Would you join me in prayer for our friend, Alexia?” Renn asked softly. Alexia turned to face him with tears in her eyes and nodded, and together they knelt before their swords and prayed for Hershel’s soul and gave thanks for his life. An air of peace seemed to suddenly wash over them, the likes of which they had not felt in many weeks. All sounds and movements within their camp seemed to fade away, and only the distant calls of birds and the gentle breeze in the treetops could be heard.
Alexia opened her eyes and took a deep breath to steel herself before standing. But as soon as she turned around, her knees buckled underneath her with what she saw. Every paladin in camp kneeled in prayer before her, and a single solitary sword had been placed flat on the ground in front of them. A symbol of a fallen warrior.
It was Hershel’s sword.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Ryuu stood majestically in the courtyard waiting for Arlo and Lusam to descend the stone stairs with his new saddle. His dark scales seemed to ripple in the morning sunlight with every breath. Lusam couldn’t help staring openly in awe at him. It didn’t seem to matter how often he saw Ryuu, his presence still had the same effect. And today he had, even more, reason to feel that way. Today he would finally get to take to the skies on his back with his father, and of course, Neala.