By now, Rik was used to being controlled.
"I'm gonna find a cure for you," he said, brushing his hand across Eliza's face and fighting against tears. "I never got a chance to tell you how much I love you."
And he feared he never would. Then, even if she did recover, what were the chances they'd both survive what lay ahead? Markus and Nadia were half a world away, possibly in the future by now, but he would find a way to help them. That had to be his path. He still believed in what he'd told Markus all those months ago.
Friends stick together. Always.
For the longest time, he'd never tested that statement, but then the dangers of all his adventures had assaulted him, changing him into a person he hadn't liked. Now he'd recovered. He'd spent so much time apart from Markus, constantly worrying about him, feeling useless.
But Rik wasn't useless. He had a purpose, just as the others did.
If only he knew the nature of that purpose.
Garet cleared his throat in the doorway. "Time to go."
"Already?"
"We shouldn't waste any time."
Rik agreed, but he felt as if something might snap in him if he left Eliza alone here. He gave her one last kiss on the forehead, holding back tears, then turned to face Garet. "I'm ready to go, or at least as ready as I'll ever be."
"We'll find a way to cure her," Garet said. Rik appreciated the words. Garet had always been one to look at the practical side of things. He didn't know that they would find the Stone of Restoration, but he'd taken time to improve Rik's mood.
"I can't thank you enough for everything you've done," Rik said. "I don't know if I ever thanked you properly for jumping in that river after me."
"A good deed is its own reward."
"If you say so."
They left Eliza's room, closing the door behind them. When that door clicked shut, it felt as if Rik were closing a door in his mind, locking away his love for Eliza. He feared he'd never see her again, or that she'd be dead by the time he returned.
Garet put a hand on his back. "Don't worry. She's in good hands."
Rik struggled to speak through his tears. "Yeah, I know."
They found Lara in the hospital's lobby. She'd gathered a few supplies, but they didn't have much. None of them carried money, and they were lucky the healers had chosen not to charge them for their services. The healers said they never charged anybody who couldn't pay, though the rich did pay some fees. Otherwise, the hospital would fall into disrepair, and some of the healers might choose more profitable occupations.
The High Mystic stood nearby, scrutinizing them with her piercing eyes. "I see you don't have much in the way of supplies." She reached into her pocket, withdrawing a small pile of gold coins, which she handed to Lara. "Take these. I have more than I need."
"Thank you," Lara said, eyes wide.
Rik probably looked just as surprised. He hadn't expected this woman to help them, and had the feeling she'd only given them this gold because of their importance. Ordinary travelers short on funds would see no such aid from her. Normally, that would have bothered Rik, but he didn't care anymore. All that mattered was curing Eliza.
"And here's the teleportation stone." The High Mystic handed it to Lara, who turned it over in her hands, frowning.
"Give it to me," Rik said. "I know how to use one of these." He took the stone from Lara, then faced the High Mystic. "Where exactly should we go?"
"Fireside."
"That sounds a bit ominous," Rik said.
"It's the closest city to the Fire Temple," said the High Mystic. "To get to the Fire Temple from there, you'll have to cross the Fire Wastes."
Rik felt cold inside. "Somehow, I have the feeling I won't like that place."
"It is one of the most difficult temples to reach," said the High Mystic, "but I believe you are resourceful enough."
"Well, thank you for your confidence in us," Rik said, though he wished he felt any confidence at all. He had to take this mission one step at a time. If he thought too far ahead, if he considered everything that might go wrong, he'd go insane. He'd let Garet and Lara do all the planning. They were better at that kind of thing.
"There's no point waiting around," Garet said.
Rik took a deep breath, they all touched the stone, and then he thought of Fireside. A moment later, his surroundings swirled around him, darkened, then vanished altogether. Though he'd teleported before, the sensation still made him feel nauseous.
Soon his feet hit something hard, and he opened his eyes. They stood now on a busy street in the middle of a city where every building was made of stone. In a place this close to the Fire Wastes, that was probably a good idea.
The teleportation stone had crumbled, its dust littering the cobblestone street. It must have been used once already. Why hadn't she given them another? Rik knew such stones were rare, but it sure seemed like sorcerers had a steady supply of them.
Then again, maybe they'd saved the stones for occasions like these. He wouldn't put anything past sorcerers when it came to manipulating people's lives.
The air in Fireside felt much hotter than the jungle air, but it was also significantly drier. Still, Rik felt as if he were baking in an oven. The healers at the hospital had explained that they were in the planet's southern hemisphere, which meant the seasons were reversed. So winter was approaching back home, but summer was on its way here.
The people in Fireside wore light clothing that looked suited to the heat. Some of the men wore no shirts at all. Their skin tones were a mixture. Most had medium tones, but there were some dark-skinned and some light-skinned people.
Nearby, merchants hawked their wares in an open-air market. Rik, Garet, and Lara visited this market, where they bought some kind of sausage they'd never seen before. It tasted rich and delicious. They also asked for directions to the Fire Wastes.
"That's a dangerous path," said the merchant, a man with light brown skin and a neatly groomed black beard. He'd just sold them some kind of yellow fruit. "You sure you want to head that way. The Firestorms are bad enough here."
Rik's stomach lurched. "Firestorms? I don't like the sound of that."
"Yes, they come off the Wastes every now and then. That's why everything here is made of stone. When the Firestorms come, they ravage the entire city. Thankfully, we've got sorcerers who protect us, but some of the fire still gets through."
That sounded terrifying. The more Rik found out about the rest of the world, the more his mind drifted back to what Warrick had said all those months ago, in Riverside. Perhaps Warrick truly had been protecting the people of the Empire. The rest of the world—what he'd seen, what Markus and Nadia had told him about—seemed a dangerous place.
Much more dangerous than life black home.
"Don't worry," the merchant said. "Firestorms don't happen too often around here. But if you head out the Fire Wastes, you'll need to be prepared to protect yourself."
"I'm a channeler," Rik said. "I can shield us."
The merchant examined them. "Then I gather at least one of you is on the Pilgrimage. There's no other reason to enter the Fire Wastes."
"I can already do Earth and Water magic," Lara said.
"Then you should be able to protect yourself a little bit." The merchant chuckled. "I wish you luck out there. A lot of people never return."
On that ominous note, they found a nearby inn. Evening was approaching, and they'd set out in the morning. At the inn, they asked for a few tips about crossing the Fire Wastes. Most people knew nothing, but they did encounter a sorcerer.
They took seats across from him. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the dull stone table. "If you're heading out there, you need to use your magic to your advantage. Do you understand everything you can do with your magic?"
"Not really," Lara said, and Rik nodded his agreement. Even after so much time with the staff, he was still learning its capabilities.
"As a channeler," the sorcerer said, "you can't do as much. The
only form of shielding you have is your fire shield, which will work against the fires in the Wastes. Wind may be useful to blow the fire away from you. You may also find it important to create a few stalagmites to help you cross some of the more difficult areas."
Rik remembered doing that in the Fire Mountains back home.
"But a sorcerer will be more useful in a place like this. With Earth Magic, you can alter the ground, creating stalagmites or holes in the ground. If you are careful enough in creating these holes, you can use them as shelter. You can also make the ground shake and summon boulders from the sky. Both are useful against monsters."
"What about Water magic?" Lara asked eagerly.
"Well, first there's the obvious. Jets of water, which you can control to a small trickle, will help put out fires and provide you water to drink. You can also create massive floods of water if things get really dangerous, but I wouldn't recommend this. It tends to sap all of a sorcerer's energy. Use this as a last resort. With water magic, you can also create a protective bubble that lets you breathe underwater, or you can use it as a form of camouflage that can hide you from your enemies as long as you don't move or make any sound."
"Is that it?" Lara asked.
"It is, and you'll have to figure out how to do these things yourself." He narrowed his eyes as if examining her. "You haven't had magic for long, have you?"
"No. I acquired it quite recently."
"You'll get better with time," the sorcerer said, "but it takes a lot of practice. You may actually find the channeler to be more useful for now."
Rik didn't care for the sorcerer's way of referring to him, but the man was helping them, so Rik decided he wouldn't debate the point. That surprised him. Once, he would have argued without hesitation, but through everything, he'd learned to control his tongue.
"Thank you for helping us," Garet said.
The sorcerer nodded, then took his leave.
"Let's rent a room for the night," Garet said. "We've got a tough road ahead of us."
Chapter 13: The Resistance
Kara's life in the Tower of Light had fallen into a steady rhythm. Most of the time, she was bored. She'd decided to help out in the kitchens. The patrons at her father's inn had always preferred her cooking to his, and she found she enjoyed the work.
Then she'd spend part of her afternoon training in swordplay. After that, she participated in the more interesting lessons. Warrick was still trying to unlock her magic, but without much success. She had not yet managed to cast anything but the Red light within her. Both of them were growing more frustrated, Warrick especially.
Sometimes, she feared he was too interested in developing her magic.
They were practicing in the same chamber beneath the Tower of Light. She had gained solid control of her Red ability to produce heat.
"Focus on another color," Warrick said. "Try orange."
She focused on that color with her. This strange magic had begun to feel more natural, but only a little. When she pointed her fingers at the wall, nothing happened. This had happened whenever she'd tried Orange. What did it mean?
Warrick stroked his beardless chin. Though Kara hated to admit it, she found him quite handsome when he was thinking deeply. What was wrong with her? This was the man who'd killed so many in Crayden. But the longer she spent with him, the more she understood that he was a decent man who'd been forced to do horrible things.
Still, if he had to, he would do them again.
"Maybe this Orange ability only works on people," he said. "Try directing it at me."
"But I might hurt you."
"Whatever you do, I'm sure I can handle it."
"You sure?"
He nodded, and she pointed her fingers at him, drawing on the Orange within her. A moment later, she knew she'd succeeded. Warrick hit the ground, screaming in agony, and she immediately let the spell die.
She rushed over to him. "Are you all right?"
He got to his feet, brushing aside her offer to help him up. "I'm fine. I think that's very similar to one type of Darkness magic. Torture. It's useful, but I imagine you probably won't want to use it all that often." Regret flashed behind his eyes, as if he'd used his own torture spell too many times in the name of the greater good.
"Are you sure you're all right?"
He chuckled. "Oh, I've suffered much worse. Have I ever told you about the time that a man decapitated me? Let's just say it wasn't pleasant. I may be immortal, but I feel just as much pain as a normal person." He had a determined look in his eyes. "And so does Krinir."
Hatred poured from Warrick. She understood why he'd hate Krinir. From what she knew of Warrick, he'd always considered himself a master manipulator. It had to be disconcerting for him to realize that somebody else had been controlling him, to some extent, the entire time.
"Should we keep practicing?" she asked.
He nodded. "I'll be ready for it this time."
She didn't like the idea of hurting him, but if he said he could take it, then he was telling the truth. He knew his own limits better than she did. She focused on the color Orange, but this time she felt Red mixing in with it.
A moment later, a wall of fire sprang to life, engulfing Warrick. He raised a shield, but the flames didn't die. His eyes grew wide as the flames became taller. But then he conjured a great flood of water that extinguished the flames.
He winced as he walked toward her. "Don't worry. Those burns will heal just fine."
"But didn't they hurt?"
"Oh, they did, and I think a part of you enjoyed it." He put a hand on her shoulder. "Yes, I've seen the way you look at me. You can't decide whether you love me or hate me. You hate the things I've done, and would like to see me burn for them. But you also love the man you think I can be." He removed his hand, taking a few steps away. "I should warn you, though. I can never truly be the man you want me to be. There's too much blood on my hands."
"To be honest, I don't really know what I want from you."
"I think we've practiced enough for today," he said, as if he didn't care for the subject they were discussing.
"I saw that your shield didn't stop that fire I created."
He frowned. "I don't understand, but it felt to me like the two types of magic are very unlike one another. My shield doesn't seem to recognize your fire as a threat."
"That could be very useful."
Warrick's mouth twisted in a faint smile. "You're starting to think like me."
Kara wasn't sure how to respond to that.
Just as they were about to exit the room, there was a knock on the door. Warrick opened the door, and in the doorway stood his steward, a short-young man with brown hair and a beard.
Warrick's tone was slightly impatient. "What do you need? I told you not to bother me when I'm down here unless it's an emergency."
"Well, it is an emergency. There's an army marching toward us. They've got sorcerers."
Warrick put a hand on the young man's shoulder. "Thank you for telling me."
Kara accompanied Warrick as he made his way up the stairs, his strides so long she struggled to keep up. They met up with dozens of Imperial Guards, who had assembled in the lobby, ready for battle.
The High Commander gave Warrick a quick bow. "Your Majesty, we've spotted them at the edges of the city. They're on the way here. What are your orders?"
Warrick hesitated a moment, his gaze pensive. At last, he said, "I will confront them. Sorcerers will tear through your ranks like you aren't even standing there."
"Is that other sorcerer here?" asked the High Commander. Kara found it surprising that the soldiers didn't even know who Krinir was.
"No," Warrick said. "I think I can handle this without him." But there was doubt in his eyes. However powerful Warrick was, sheer numbers could still overwhelm him. But he couldn't call on Krinir and risk putting himself back under the god's control. Sooner or later, Kara would not be able to break through that spell, and then he would surely kill her.
<
br /> He strode through the crowd of Imperial Guards, his posture confident, but she knew him well enough to see that some of his confidence was an act. She followed him, though she wasn't sure she could help him in any way.
"What are you doing?" he asked her, without turning.
"I might be able to help. I have my own magic."
"You barely know anything. It's much safer for you to stay behind."
"I'm coming with you," Kara said, surprising herself with her boldness. She was sure he'd overrule her, maybe even confine her with his magic. Instead, he shook his head and said nothing. This was probably a stupid idea, but she had to see this army for herself.
Warrick did not exit the Tower of Light through the main entrance. Instead, he went up a few floors and strode out to a nearby balcony that gave him a view of most of the city. From there, Kara could see the approaching army.
It was not as large as she'd expected. Perhaps a dozen sorcerers.
Warrick barked a laugh. "Do they think they can stand against me with so few?"
"That may not be the entire army," she said. "They might be a distraction."
Warrick gave her a smile. "Good point. You seem to have a mind for strategy."
"Well, I did help organize for the Order."
He chuckled, but the humor didn't touch his eyes. "Don't remind me of that."
The sorcerers marched closer and closer, and Warrick fixed his gaze on them. Standing behind him, she wasn't sure what she wanted. These sorcerers were probably good men and women, people fighting against a tyrant who had usurped power. But Kara knew the truth behind that tyrant, knew that he was the world's best chance.
One sorcerer stepped to the front of the group. "Darien Warrick, we have you surrounded. Your time as self-proclaimed High Sorcerer is at an end."
Warrick laughed sharply. "Do you think you can stand against me?"
It was remarkable how quickly he could change himself into the tyrant she'd always known. Terrifying, too. Which man was the true Warrick?
"There are twelve of us and one of you," said the man. "You are powerful, but you cannot stand against superior numbers. You only succeeded before because you had Krinir at your side. He seems to have abandoned you now."
World in Chains- The Complete Series Page 139