Magic and Mayhem: A Collection of 21 Fantasy Novels

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Magic and Mayhem: A Collection of 21 Fantasy Novels Page 129

by Jasmine Walt


  But how, he wondered, was he to rescue Amia?

  Tan took another step closer to the flame, expecting the heat to overwhelm him and push him back. Instead, he was able to move easily, as if the soft nymid light was some sort of armor.

  Trust.

  He stepped forward again, almost to the edge of the fire. He still could tolerate the heat, if only barely.

  Trust.

  Then he stepped through the fire.

  Tan expected to be burned, or worse—blown back and away from the prison—yet he moved through the flames unharmed, like a curtain parting.

  Amia lay unmoving at the center of the circle of fire. Tan worried he was too late. The air within the circle was hot and dry and burned the inside of his mouth and his throat with each breath he took. Still, the nymid armor held.

  Holding his breath, he ran to Amia and picked her up. She did not look up or open her eyes as he hefted her. Tan cradled her carefully in his arms, enveloping her as much as possible to shield her with the nymid armor as he stepped back across the flames. Though Tan felt nothing other than a surge of heat as he crossed, Amia moaned softly under his arms.

  He needed to get her away from the lisincend but a feeling, an instinct, made him run toward the lake. A slight residual film of the glowing light remained on the surface. He lowered Amia carefully into the water, keeping her mouth above the surface.

  She gasped as her body hit the cool water. Her eyes fluttered open.

  Protect me.

  The thought rang through his mind again, like a tolling bell, and Tan knew he’d done what needed to be done. He lifted her from the water, her clothing dripping and glowing faintly, and ran with her toward the edge of the forest to escape the lisincend.

  Once they reached the trees, he paused. A loud explosion rocked the night. Tan held Amia carefully in his arms and looked to see what had caused the explosion.

  Not far from him, near where the line of trees thinned and became lakeshore, two of the lisincend lay motionless upon the ground. One was twisted awkwardly; one of the creature’s legs had bent underneath it. Or was simply missing. Tan couldn’t tell, nor did he care.

  That left only Fur standing.

  Roine stood before Fur, his face alight and nearly glowing. His hair stood on end. Roine was dressed in the same dark green Tan had first seen him in when meeting in the forest what felt like ages ago, yet something about the clothing seemed different, mystical, and exuded a sense of power.

  Roine reached his hands toward the dark sky and clenched them tightly into fists and thrust his closed fists toward Fur. The sky overhead darkened before a huge blast of lightning erupted, shooting straight down toward the ground and striking Fur, throwing him toward the water’s edge.

  Roine slumped, his shoulders worn and tired. This battle took nearly everything out him.

  Fur pulled himself back to his feet, appearing unharmed. He laughed as he stepped toward Roine. “You think to use fire against one of the lisincend?”

  Roine smiled then, and though tired, there was a dark malice to the expression. “Only to move you back.” Raising his hand again, this time toward the lake, he made a motion, pulling toward him, and the water in the lake surged forward in a wave.

  Fur looked over his shoulder, almost casually, and flicked a finger at the water. The water that had surged toward the lisincend turned to hot steam and the rest of the lake withdrew.

  Fur laughed again, a hot and dry sound, and looked back to Roine. “Not all of the lisincend fear water, Theondar.”

  Tan felt the building pressure of the shaping Fur readied, the rising heat the lisincend prepared to blast at Roine. Roine looked tired, nearly too tired to fight back.

  Roine closed his eyes, almost as if awaiting his fate, motioning again at the water.

  A wave, larger than the first, surged toward Fur. The center of the wave started to glow, flickering brightly, and the wave surged higher and stronger. Fur turned to see the approaching wall of water.

  Fur made a sharp movement with his wrist, sending a shaping toward the water, but the power of his blast glanced off the wave and shot into the sky.

  The wave struck Fur, washing over him in a loud hiss. Swept from his feet, he went sliding across the muddy ground toward Roine.

  Tan heard a satisfied sound deep in the back of his head. Twisted Fire, it seemed to say as the water receded.

  Roine stood overtop Fur. The lisincend hissed as Roine lifted a booted foot and brought it down quickly, stomping upon the ground. Earth split under his feet. Fur slid into the crack in the earth, screaming a horrible sound. Roine made another quick motion with his hand and the ground closed, sealing overtop the lisincend.

  Roine stared at the ground blankly, a mixture of surprise and exhaustion plain on his face. Then he turned and looked at where Tan stood hidden and limped toward him. Roine’s face was bloodied and there were a few small tears in the flesh of his cheeks. His peppered hair, though soaked and sodden, stood nearly straight up.

  He fell, landing near Tan. “Surprised to see me?”

  Tan laughed softly and shook his head. “Surprised…yes. And relieved. But you need rest,” Tan told him. After Roine’s shapings, he would have to be exhausted.

  Roine shook his head and pulled himself to a stand. “We need to keep moving. I was not strong enough to destroy him. That will not hold Fur for long.”

  Tan dared not argue. Lifting Amia, he carried her as they walked along the edge of the trees, keeping the lake to one side and the forest to their other. She breathed slowly, but regularly. Tan felt relief that she appeared otherwise unharmed.

  After a while, the rain eased as they made their way around the edge of the lake. Tan felt Amia’s shaping, and followed its pull. When the clouds finally parted, the moon hung fat and bright overhead. When it seemed that neither he nor Roine could continue on, he stopped next to a fallen log to rest.

  He struggled against his fatigue to keep his eyes open. As tired as he felt, Roine looked ten times worse. The warrior was barely able to stand, keeping upright by the sheer force of his will. When they stopped, he fell forward to his knees. Tan carefully set Amia down and positioned Roine against the log for protection. They could go no further until they had rested.

  Tan sat as well and moved Amia so that her head was atop his lap and gently touched her golden hair. It was soft and in spite of all that she had been through today, still smelled of lavender. The tension in his body began to ease. He would not be able to stay awake much longer.

  Watch over us. Tan sent his message out and over the lake. He doubted that the nymid would even hear him.

  As he drifted to sleep, though, he distantly heard a thought circling in his mind that he should not have been able to hear.

  We will.

  26

  At the Edge of the Lake

  Tan opened his eyes slowly, squinting against the light of the sun. Roine crouched nearby, tending to a small, crackling fire, roasting something over the flames. Tan’s mouth salivated at the thought of fresh meat. He couldn’t remember how long it had been since he’d last eaten.

  “Good,” Roine said. “You’re awake.”

  “How long have you been up?”

  Roine shrugged. “Long enough.” He frowned at Tan before turning back to tend the fire. “You know, I’m surprised that you’re alive.”

  Tan shrugged, not quite ready to explain the nymid. “I would say the same to you.”

  Roine laughed. “I’m not killed as easily as Fur would believe.”

  “And you think Fur survived?”

  Roine frowned, setting his hands upon his legs and working his fingers for a moment before answering. “Fur is the oldest, and most powerful, of the lisincend. Perhaps once I could have destroyed him. Perhaps. Now I’m no longer strong enough.”

  “Why not?”

  Roine laughed softly. “There are many answers, probably. The simplest is likely the truest. Strength takes confidence—some would say arrogance—an
d I’m not the same man.”

  Tan watched Roine while he rotated the meat over the fire. “Who are you, then?”

  Roine looked up and there was a playful smile about his face and reaching his eyes. “I am Roine.”

  “You mean roinay,” Tan said, repeating the word as his mother had said it.

  Roine smiled again and shrugged, not offering an explanation.

  Tan looked out over the lake. The pull of Amia’s shaping still drew on him. “What of Theondar?”

  “Theondar?” Roine said the name comfortably and with a wistful tone. “He is gone, lost to the world almost two decades ago.”

  “But you’re Theondar.”

  “No,” Roine said, his tone firm. “No longer. Once I claimed that name. Once I thought I could shape the world.” He shook his head. “Years grant wisdom, I think. Now I’m no longer him. Just Roine. That is enough.”

  Tan didn’t push, though wished he knew more. “The lisincend feared another shaper,” Tan said instead, changing topics. “When you came, they thought you were someone else.”

  Roine turned to him, eyes growing more alert. “How’d you hear this?”

  “I was in the water then,” he answered. “Moving to try and save Amia. When the wind came in, the lisincend said they smelled someone, smelled the shaping. Then the rain came and they were surprised.”

  Roine looked to the sky and his eyes went blank. He sat motionless like that for a long moment before opening his eyes again and staring at Tan. The sudden tension that had surged through Roine seemed to ease.

  “What did they mean?” Tan asked.

  Roine shook his head slowly before answering. “I hadn’t expected this. You’re certain?”

  Tan nodded.

  “There have been rumors,” Roine began. “A warrior, though not of the kingdoms. One who’s never made his alliances known. I’ve long wondered if he could have sided with Incendin.”

  A warrior. What was the name he’d read in his mother’s book? “You think it’s Lacertin?”

  Roine’s eyes widened. “How is it that you know this name?”

  Tan hesitated before answering. “My father,” he said. “There were letters he sent my mother. I…I don’t think he meant for me to see them.”

  Roine tilted his head and his face wrinkled. “He mentioned Lacertin in the letters?” he said, speaking the name distastefully.

  Tan nodded. He didn’t want to say what else the letters said.

  Roine fell silent for a moment. And then he sighed. “Once,” he began, straightening his back and looking out across the water with a distant expression, “there were twelve of us. Twelve Cloud Warriors. We served the kingdoms as the king commanded. There had not always been this twelve. There had been more, many more, long ago, but something changed. A connection lost. The scholars have never been able to learn why.”

  He took a deep breath and looked over at Tan. “Lacertin may have been the most powerful. He was certainly the most ambitious. We served the kingdoms, always at the direction of the king. Yet Lacertin did things his own way, defying the king in subtle ways.” Roine shook his head. “I suppose we all did to a certain extent. Probably why we overlooked his faults. For they were faults.

  “And then Genan died. The first of the twelve lost. Lacertin and Genan had been fighting off an invasion of the Talin riders to the south when Genan was lost. Lacertin was never able to fully explain what happened. There were many who wondered, even then. It was only later we realized we should have pressed Lacertin further.”

  Roine fell silent, his eyes unfocused, as he worked the meat over the flame. After a while, he motioned to Tan and handed him a chunk of steaming meat. Tan took it wordlessly and chewed it slowly, savoring the taste as his stomach rolled with hunger. They ate in silence. Roine saved meat for Amia, who still slept, her breathing slow and easy.

  Tan decided to ask the question then, uncertain how Roine would react. But knowing that he was Theondar, he needed to know. “What happened to Ilianna?”

  Roine looked away, but there was a pained expression to his eyes, still fresh and raw after all these years. “I had everything to do with her death,” he answered softly.

  Tan felt shocked. He’d thought Theondar innocent. “Then why did Lacertin leave the city?”

  “Lacertin,” Roine spat. “We should have exiled him long before.” He turned back to face Tan, his eyes welling with restrained tears. “I couldn’t protect her. I should have suspected him. I knew he had ambitions, and I should have protected her.” He stopped and took a deep breath.

  “I’m sorry,” Tan said.

  Roine looked at him and sighed. “We’ve all lost much, Tan. Some wounds never fade.” He turned to the fire and Tan thought that would be the end of it. “Ilianna didn’t have to die. That’s the worst part for me. All he wanted was the heirloom.”

  “What was it?”

  Roine shook his head. “Only the women of her family knew. It was passed down through the years. I still don’t know why Lacertin wanted it. I’ve never been able to learn.”

  “I’m sorry,” Tan said again.

  Roine offered him a weak smile. “How could you have known? So many years ago, yet I feel it and see it like it was only yesterday. If only I’d been there when he attacked, it might have been different.”

  “Could you have stopped him?”

  Roine shrugged. “Lacertin was always a powerful shaper, perhaps more than Theondar.”

  “Now?”

  Roine shook his head. “I’m no longer that man.”

  Tan didn’t say anything more.

  Slowly, Amia started to awaken. She looked up at Tan and met his eyes. “How?”

  Tan wasn’t sure whether she spoke or whether he heard her question in the same manner he heard the nymid speak. “You’re awake.”

  Amia pushed herself up, propping against the log as she huddled near Tan. She pressed one hand up to her face, brushing the hair away before looking at Tan and seeing his badly damaged shirt hanging in tatters from his chest. “How?” she asked again.

  Roine watched them both. He handed the remaining meat to Amia and she took it carefully, smelling it for a long moment before taking a tentative bite.

  Roine walked over and sat facing Tan and Amia, staring at him as if suddenly seeing him for the first time. “How did I not notice?” he asked, reaching out and fingering Tan’s shirt. A calloused hand brushed the tattered remnants of his shirt away and he looked at Tan’s slightly pink chest. “What happened here?”

  Amia looked from Tan to Roine, chewing slowly as she did. “I saw the blast Fur aimed at you. You should not have survived.”

  Roine’s eyes widened. “Fur did this?” He leaned and smelled the edges of the shirt. “That should have killed you.”

  Tan hesitated. For some reason, he was reluctant to speak of the nymid, uncertain they wanted their secret revealed. He suspected that they were water elementals, and powerful enough to heal him. More than that, they had been nothing but helpful, saving his life and providing a means of saving Amia’s life, as well.

  “Tan? How is it you survived what should have killed you?”

  Tan looked from Roine to Amia. She watched with a question in her eyes. He felt a soft pressure and Amia frowned briefly and closed her eyes. When she opened them, she nodded.

  Tan looked out toward the water. The soft reflection of the sun almost made it seem to glow. Would the nymid care if he shared their secret? They wanted Amia saved, likely helping him only so that he could rescue her. But how would they feel about Roine knowing about them? Or Theondar?

  “I shouldn’t have survived,” Tan finally said. “I was thrown out into the lake, and sank, and was rescued by creatures of the water.”

  Roine’s face tensed. “What kind of creatures?”

  Tan paused, feeling another moment of hesitation. Would the nymid care? If only he could speak to them, could hear how they felt about him sharing their secret. Tan didn’t have the energy to try and
communicate with them and wasn’t sure whether they would answer this far on shore.

  But they wouldn’t care if Amia knew of them. He would just have to trust Roine. “They called themselves the nymid.”

  Amia stared at Tan, a strange curiosity and a hint of recognition upon her face, but she said nothing. Her eyes flickered out to the lake, looking from the water and then back to Tan, all while wearing a strange expression.

  Roine had a different reaction. “Nymid? How do you know that name?”

  “They told me.”

  “You spoke to them?”

  “I didn’t really speak to them. I think they communicate with thought.” Tan worried for a moment that Roine did not believe him.

  Then Roine stood, pacing to the edge of the water. He knelt there and touched the water, swirling a finger through it. “None have seen the nymid in centuries.”

  Tan felt surprised. “You know of them?”

  “They are water elementals. They are old, thought to be nearly as old as the great elementals, and powerful. I understand now how you survived.” He stared out into the water, a wistful expression upon his face. “I still don’t know how you spoke to them.”

  Elementals. At least that much confirmed what Tan suspected. “Why?”

  Roine stared out into the lake. “Few have the ability,” he began. “Once, when others knew the nymid, the ability to speak to them was a gift seen only in the most powerful—”

  He cut himself off, not finishing his thought. He turned from the peaceful water of the lake and looked carefully at Tan, watching him intently. “No matter,” Roine decided. “What matters is that they healed you. I wish I knew why.”

  “They wanted me to save Amia.”

  She smiled at him with a hint of amusement though did not appear surprised. “I wish I could thank them.”

  “I can try,” Tan offered.

  “It won’t work outside the water,” Roine said.

  Tan frowned, remembering the attack. Had he been in the water when he called to the nymid, asking for help? He didn’t think he had, and wondered whether that was important.

 

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