Blood of the Earth

by David A. Wells

  It was nearing sunset when they arrived at the Gate. Conner had an honor guard of a hundred Ithilian infantry, and Lieutenant Wyatt had volunteered to accompany Alexander. His Rangers were fanned out, watching the empty plain as if it might attack.

  Alexander touched the Island of Ithilian on the map carved into the Gate. The stone shimmered for a moment and abruptly opened to the plains of Ithilian.

  A dozen men stood guard, awaiting word of the campaign on Ruatha.

  “Prince Conner,” the sergeant said with a salute, “your father is anxious for word. He’s here in the encampment.”

  Chapter 4

  Before Alexander closed the Ruathan Gate, he set both it and the Ithilian Gate to accept commands from the wielders of the Thinblades.

  It was well after dark by the time they made it back to the command area of the army encampment. As he rode through the neat and orderly rows of tents, Alexander reflected on how large his army seemed to him. Before this ordeal had begun, he’d never seen so many people in one place. But he knew with terrifying clarity that his army was tiny compared to Phane’s, and he didn’t even like to think about the vast horde of battle-hardened warriors serving Zuhl.

  There would be blood and dying before this war was decided, and lots of it. Alexander focused on figuring out how to make sure it was the enemy’s blood that ran freely. He couldn’t hope to defeat either of his foes in a direct conflict. He had to be smarter. He had to find a way to attack without wasting his army in a futile engagement. He hoped his war council would help him formulate a sane and sensible strategy.

  His mother was waiting in his tent when he and Isabel entered.

  “Alexander, it’s good to see you. Have you eaten?”

  “Actually, I haven’t had time for dinner,” Alexander said, giving his mom a hug.

  “Well, you have to eat,” Bella said. “You need your strength and a clear head. They told me you’d been injured.”

  Alexander grimaced slightly, motioning to the bandage on his arm.

  “Well, sit down and let me have a look.”

  Bella maneuvered him to a chair at the field table and lit another lamp before carefully unwrapping the bandage.

  Isabel sat down across from Alexander.

  Bella turned to her with a warm smile. “Hello, dear, I hear you had some excitement at Northport. They tell me these wraithkin don’t like your light very much.”

  Alexander chuckled.

  “No,” Isabel said. “The one we captured wasn’t afraid of anything until I hit him with my Maker’s light spell. That got him talking.”

  “Well done, Dear,” Bella said, then turned back to Alexander’s wound and frowned, pursing her lips as she examined the gash. It was healing poorly, if at all. Blood still oozed from the laceration and it wasn’t clotting as it should.

  “I don’t like the looks of this at all,” Bella said with a hint of worry in her voice as she turned back to Isabel.

  “I’m told you used your healing magic and it had no effect,” Bella said.

  Isabel nodded gravely. “I don’t understand why, either. It worked on Abigail and Anatoly. It certainly should have worked on Alexander.”

  “Not necessarily,” Bella said. “Dark magic can counter healing magic. Did you notice any difference in the way your healing spell felt when you cast it on Alexander?”

  Isabel thought for a moment and nodded slightly. “It felt colder. The first two times, I felt a gentle warmth within, but when I cast it on Alexander, I felt a hint of deathly cold in the center of my chest. I didn’t think much of it at the time because I was worried about Alexander and confused that my spell hadn’t worked.”

  Bella sighed and shook her head. “These weapons may be more dangerous than we first thought. Have you tried your healing since then?”

  “No,” Isabel said. “Why do you ask?”

  “It’s just a hunch, and I hope I’m wrong,” Bella said.

  Alexander felt a little thrill of fear when he saw his mother’s colors. She was afraid. Bella Valentine was a strong woman, a witch with considerable wisdom. She didn’t frighten easily.

  “What is it, Mom?”

  “It may be nothing, or it may be something very serious. I can’t know for sure just yet.”

  Alexander took a deep breath to calm the urgency that was building in his gut.

  “Tell me what you think it is.”

  Bella held her son’s eyes for a moment.

  “The magic of the dagger may have tainted Isabel’s connection to the light or to the firmament when she tried to heal you.”

  Alexander looked at Isabel intently, scrutinizing her beautiful colors. She looked as clear and bright as ever.

  “I don’t see any difference in her colors.”

  Chloe buzzed into existence in a ball of scintillating white light and flew in an orbit around Alexander’s head once before landing in the middle of the table.

  “I don’t sense any darkness in Isabel, nor in Alexander, even though his wound is tainted with it,” she said.

  “The magic may take time to work,” Bella said, “or it may only advance when she casts a spell … or I could be completely wrong.”

  “Is there any way to know for sure?” Isabel asked. She had only recently become a witch, but she felt a sudden vulnerability at the possibility of losing her magic.

  “Perhaps, but it may just make matters worse,” Bella said.

  “How so?” Alexander asked.

  “If Isabel uses her magic, you may be able to discern if the taint has spread from your wound to her through her colors, but it may cause the taint to grow.”

  “Knowing for sure would be worth the risk. What spell should I cast?” Isabel asked.

  “I don’t know your repertoire, Dear, but I’d suggest something defensive that doesn’t rely on your unique connection to the realm of light.”

  Alexander had spent several days with his family while the army prepared to move from Northport. During that time Isabel and Bella had talked a great deal about witchcraft and magic. Bella had slipped easily into the role of mentor and Isabel felt a greater willingness to be forthcoming with her about her magic than she did with even Magda. She trusted the triumvir but not nearly so much as she’d come to trust Bella. Alexander was happy to see them becoming friends. He valued his mother’s opinion a great deal. That she genuinely liked and respected Isabel meant a lot to him.

  “I learned a shield spell,” Isabel said. “I’ll start with that.”

  She stepped away from the table and began the casting. The spell depended on anger. Alexander watched her colors closely as she formed the emotion necessary to defend against the firmament. He marveled at her passion and emotional control. From the intensity of her colors, he was certain that he couldn’t match the controlled rage she was able to call so easily. The spell succeeded and a shimmer of magic enclosed her in a protective shell. Then the anger she had called to cast the spell drained away.

  He looked closely for any hint of darkness within her aura, but saw none.

  Shaking his head, he said, “Maybe there’s nothing wrong with her.”

  “I hope you’re right, Son, but we have to be sure,” Bella said. “Can you make a connection with the realm of light, Isabel?”

  Isabel nodded and closed her eyes for a moment to center herself, then touched the passage within her psyche that led to the realm of light. She had come to view her connection with the light as the most potent magic she had at her disposal. She cherished it all the more because it had been created through the birth of Sara, Alexander and Chloe’s fairy daughter.

  Isabel felt the light flood into her as the warm, loving creativity of it engulfed her.

  Then Alexander cried out, “Stop! I see darkness in your colors.”

  Isabel slammed the passage shut in a rush of fear and loss. She loved the light. It filled her with calm, loving purpose every time she touched it.

  “The darkness is gone now. I’m so sorry, Isabel,” Alex
ander said as he drew her into a hug. She sobbed gently against his chest for several moments. Once she’d composed herself, she turned to Bella.

  “How do we fix it?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m sure some of the wizards may be able to help,” Bella said. “In the meantime, you must refrain from using magic that requires you to touch the realm of light.”

  “My healing and my Maker’s light are the most powerful magic I have,” Isabel said. “What if I need to use them?”

  “Be sure there’s no alternative,” Bella said. “Darkness is not to be trifled with. A taint such as this was undoubtedly constructed deliberately, most likely as a secondary attack against any healers within our ranks. Also, I fear Phane wanted to ensure that those injured by these blades died slowly and painfully.”

  “Don’t risk it, Isabel,” Alexander said, still holding her beside him with an arm around her shoulders. “We’ll find another way. Until we figure out how to undo the daggers’ magic, you can’t cast those spells.”

  She nodded wearily.

  “We’ll figure this out, Dear,” Bella said with a reassuring smile.

  “Let me call for some food and then I’ll sew up that gash.”

  “My Love, you should put a pinch of fairy dust into the wound,” Chloe said. “It may help with the taint.”

  Alexander looked to his mother for advice.

  Bella shrugged. “Fairy dust is powerful magic. If you have some, I doubt it could hurt.”

  Alexander sat down and carefully opened the vial of fairy dust, took a small pinch and sprinkled it into his wound.

  At first he felt a warm tingling as the iridescent powder dissolved into his blood. The warmth spread throughout his body. He began to relax and feel heavier. Then he felt a stab of pain in his chest. A moment later he felt like he was on fire. He tensed up, losing all muscle control as he toppled out of the chair.

  Isabel and Bella both raced to his side. He heard Chloe whimpering in despair and apology within his mind, but the unmitigated agony coursing through his body wouldn’t allow him to form a single thought to comfort her. He felt himself on the floor, every muscle clenched in an uncontrollable spasm. He couldn’t make his lungs work and felt an especially keen burning in his chest. As he struggled to gain a breath, the darkness began to close in.

  The last thing he heard before the darkness claimed him was Chloe’s voice in his mind, “Please don’t leave me, My Love.”

  Chapter 5

  Lacy Fellenden was tired, hungry, and absolutely terrified.

  She crouched in the corner stall of a stable behind a stack of hay bales and struggled to calm her breathing, lest it give her away. She’d been running ever since the enemy had come to her country and thrown her quiet little life into turmoil. All she knew now was fear. The kind of fear a small animal must feel when a predator is on the hunt.

  In the first days after Zuhl and his terrible, brutish army arrived, Lacy had tried to nurse a righteous anger at the injustice being done to her people. She had tried to hold on to the fierce rage she felt at the idea of evil being done to her family. All of that was gone now.

  The world had gone mad and she was lost and alone. At first, she’d had the counsel and protection of Wizard Saul, her father’s court wizard, but he had been possessed by something out of a nightmare and now he was hunting her as well. It was all so beyond her. She was a princess, accustomed to maidservants and fancy dresses. Decisions of importance had always been made by others, and yet her father had entrusted her with the legacy of her family, though she didn’t even know what that was, except that others of great and terrible evil wanted it—and they wanted it badly.

  To Lacy, what mattered most was that her father, now almost certainly dead, had entrusted this most important of tasks to her in his hour of greatest need. That he had no one else to burden with the duty didn’t matter. Lacy knew her father loved her. She knew he doted on her and would have done anything for her. What she didn’t know, until it mattered most, was that he believed in her. That simple realization had come upon her in the night like an epiphany.

  She would not fail him, no matter what.

  She didn’t even know what was in the little box she carried. It was black as night with no markings, keyhole, or hinges. The only clue she had about its contents was learned on the night Wizard Saul had been possessed by a creature he called a shade—the one named Rankosi.

  He had demanded that she give him the keystone.

  She had no idea what that might be but she knew with terrifying certainty that neither the shade nor Zuhl’s horde could ever be permitted to have it.

  Unfortunately, she was alone, in unfamiliar territory, with enemies closing in on her and no one to turn to for help. She almost yelped when the door to the stable opened.

  “Lacy,” Rankosi said, “I know you’re in here. It’s only a matter of time before I find you. Come, Child, hand over the bauble and I will let you go—for now.” His voice morphed from cloying and sweet to strained rage. “Come out now! If I have to find you, I will flay the flesh from your bones and make you watch.”

  Lacy froze, half deliberately and half from wild panic. She dared not breathe. Straining to listen, she held her breath and remained stock-still. Rankosi stood in the doorway, sniffing the air like a dog.

  She heard horses coming up the road, then a muted curse as Rankosi turned to meet the squad of Zuhl’s hunters. All of her enemies were coming to her at once. She inched around the bale of hay and snatched a peek just as Rankosi turned away from the stable to confront the approaching soldiers.

  When she heard him begin casting a spell, she made her move. Carefully and quietly, she crept toward the door on the far side of the stable. A few horses rustled as she passed, but Rankosi was too busy with his spell to notice.

  As she slipped through the door, she took a quick look across the stable at the possessed man who had once been her protector. All around him, shards of translucent blue force began appearing, slowly at first but then more and more rapidly. They hung in the air, growing in sharpness, until they looked almost solid. With a word and a forceful gesture, the conjured shards darted forward, tearing into the approaching enemy. Men and horses fell to the magical onslaught, leaving only two soldiers still alive out of a dozen.

  When Rankosi turned slowly and looked directly at her with a menacing smile, she ran. It was dark and the ground was uneven. She stumbled and faltered, but still she ran with all the strength and abandon of wild terror. She dared not look back for fear that the wizard-turned-demon would be there.

  She reached the fence to the paddock and clambered over, daring to glance back only when she was on the far side. Rankosi was walking through the pasture toward her. The two remaining soldiers had fled the wizard’s attack, no doubt to deliver a report about the enemy they had encountered.

  More soldiers would be coming.

  Lacy raced into the village, winding through the small houses and shops that made up the little community. She didn’t think about where she was going, she just ran, hoping her erratic path would be enough to throw off the shade, but she knew it wouldn’t. It was only through luck and good fortune that she’d managed to stay ahead of it this long.

  She rounded a corner and ran headlong into a man in the dark. Stumbling back, she turned to run but stopped when he spoke.

  “I’ll help you, if you’ll let me,” he said.

  Lacy was desperate and terrified. She didn’t know who this man was. She’d been betrayed by other villagers recently, only barely escaping with her life. She’d lost her horse when she trusted a family that let her sleep in their barn for the night. Once she was bedded down, they told the soldiers where she was. Her recently acquired skill for light sleeping was all that allowed her to escape with her life. That incident had cost her a horse, her saddlebags, and her bedroll. All she had left was her pack and her belt pouch, which held a few silver coins and even less gold.

  She looked at the man warily, but then sh
e heard Rankosi in the distance.

  “All I want is the keystone, Child,” the shade said into the night.

  She nodded urgently to the stranger. He motioned for her to follow. He wound through the village until he came to a little house. A man was waiting there with a horse. The stranger motioned for Lacy to remain in the shadows while he went and talked to the man. He handed over a small purse and the man mounted up and spurred his horse into a gallop through the village.

  When the stranger returned to Lacy, he motioned for her to remain silent and to follow him. Behind another house, he pulled open a trapdoor to a cellar and led her into the dark. She followed cautiously, her hand on the hilt of her dagger. Once they reached the base of the stairs, she noticed a low-burning lamp on the far side of the room. He took the lamp and led her through a door before turning up the light.

  “We should be safe here,” he said. “I’m Drogan. You would be Lacy Fellenden, yes?”

  Her wariness flared. “Who sent you? How do you know who I am?”

  “I was sent by a friend to help you escape Zuhl and the creature of darkness that hunts you,” Drogan said. He was a big man, easily over six feet tall, with a barrel chest and broad shoulders. His hair was black as night and his full beard matched it. He wore a long, dark, leather riding coat and a broad-brimmed hat. He took a seat at the little table in the center of the room.

  “You might as well get comfortable,” he said. “We should stay here for the night. If my ruse worked, the demon hunting you will be a long way from here when it realizes you’re not the one on the horse.”

  “You sent that man on the horse as a decoy?” Lacy asked, hopeful and horrified at the same time.

  “It was the only way to throw the demon off your trail,” Drogan said. “I have some experience hunting things from the dark. They don’t let go of a trail until they catch the one making it. By then we’ll be long gone.”

  “What about the man on the horse? What will happen to him?”

  Drogan shrugged. “That’s less important. You can have the room through there. It has a bar on the door, the bed’s comfortable, and there’s some food, if you’re hungry.”