The woman’s eyes narrowed, and she focused on him, her jaw clenching.
There was a strange stirring deep within him. It started slowly and built, a feeling that reminded him of what he’d experienced during the Calling.
Fes clenched his jaw, glaring at the woman. He tried to move, but his body didn’t respond. Was this woman similar to the Damhur who had sent the Calling?
Fes tried to push away the sense working through him, trying to ignore the effort that this woman was using on him. How could he overcome it?
Somehow, Arudis had managed to do it, though Fes had seen how hard it had been, and exactly what it had taken out of her. She had struggled against the Calling and had almost not been strong enough to ignore it.
Without any training, what did Fes think that he could do? How did he think that he could escape, especially when he had barely managed to escape when confronted by this the last time? It would be better to go with her. If he returned to his wagon, maybe he’d be unharmed. Maybe they would leave him, and he could simply exist.
But if he did that, he knew what would happen. They intended to use him, treat him like an animal.
If they did, would they bring out his Deshazl ability?
Could it be that they would know how to use that ability better than he did?
Maybe it would be better to go with them.
No!
He needed to fight.
He focused not on the feeling of the Calling, but on the part of himself, the part that responded to the Calling. If he could focus on that, he could command that part of himself, he could seal it off, and maybe he could prevent her from using him.
The pressure continued to build within him.
As it did, and as Fes continued to fight it, he continued to focus on himself and not on what she was doing to him. With a great force of will, he tamped down the part of him that wanted to respond to the Calling.
His body suddenly responded.
Fes lunged forward, and her eyes widened as his fist connected with her forehead. He had meant to catch her on the side of the head, or perhaps even chop her on the neck, but he didn’t have complete control of his body.
When he struck her, she collapsed.
He crouched for a moment before reaching into her sack to see what she had been carrying. He wasn’t surprised to find that it was full of food, but it was little more than hunks of bread and old cheese.
Was this what they were feeding everyone?
He doubted that he had much time. This was now the second patrol that had made its way through here, and if he didn’t hurry, he wouldn’t be able to get to all of the wagons.
He reached the next one, unlocking it to find an older man inside. “I’m here to help. Head north. The others will join you.” He made quick work of unlocking the shackles, and he freed the man, helping him out of the back of the wagon before moving onward. The man watched him for a few long moments before hobbling off.
And Fes had thought Dobrah would be the slow one. If there were more people like this old man, all of them might be too slow to escape.
One after another, Fes unlocked the wagons. Most of the people were young, many of them barely into their teens, though he came across a few who were in their twenties, and a couple who were much older, much like the man.
When he reached the last wagon, he saw shadows moving near the campfire.
It wouldn’t be long now. He had to hurry, and if he didn’t, then their captors would return.
Maybe he should have done a better job with tying up the last three he’d beaten. What if they had come around? He had been so focused on getting everyone to freedom that he hadn’t paid any attention to them.
The last wagon contained a man about Fes’s age.
“Who are you?” the man asked.
“A friend,” Fes said. “I’m here to get you free.”
“Why should I believe you?”
Fes unlocked the shackles and helped him out, making sure to keep a reasonable distance between him and the man. He was muscular, and if he attempted to attack, Fes wanted to be prepared to get out of the way. Even unarmed, he could pose something of a threat.
“You see all these wagons?” Fes asked.
“I see them.”
“The others are all freed. We’re going to go and join them.” A shout rang out, and the man jerked toward the sound. Fes’s gaze turned toward it as well. He clenched his jaw. “You’re going to go join them.”
“What about you?”
“I think I’m going to be the diversion.”
The man watched Fes for a long moment before he nodded to himself. “I’ll help.”
Chapter Fourteen
“We need to draw their attention away from the others,” Fes said.
“How do you propose we do that?”
“By taking them the opposite direction,” Fes said.
“Which is?”
“We go south.”
“What’s to the south?”
“I don’t know. I’m not entirely certain where we are, so I don’t know what’s to the south of us.”
“I was taken from my home in Chesterd. I’ve only been a captive for a few days.”
“Where is Chesterd?”
“Not far from the coast.”
He leaned on one of the wagons, poking his head out as he stared toward the fire. From here, he could see the flames dancing, close enough that he could practically feel the warmth coming off them. If they were heading toward the coast, then it was likely that whatever task they had been on was already done. Maybe the others were heading back across the sea. If so, then he had been lucky to get free.
“How many others in your village were taken?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. I went out with the militia when the attack came. We tried to slow them, but we weren’t fast enough.”
“What happened?” He suspected it would be the same experience the fishermen had, but maybe it was different.
“I froze,” the man said. “I’ve never been in a fight before, not like that. I’ve brawled, but this was different. I had a sword, even if it wasn’t my own. I tried to fight, but there was something inside of me that wouldn’t respond. Every time I tried to move, it felt as if fear clenched my heart and kept me from going anywhere.”
“I think that’s the magic of the Damhur.”
“Damhur?”
Fes shrugged. “That’s what… a friend… told me they were called. They have some power over certain people,” he said. Near the fire, a dozen or so people were separating from it, and it wouldn’t be long before they reached the wagons. Did they realize that the others hadn’t returned? Or worse, had one of the last three already returned, telling how Fes had not only attacked them, but had managed to escape her Calling?
“It’s time to go,” he said.
“I don’t even know your name.”
“I’m Fes,” he said, thrusting his hand out.
“I’m Nick.”
“Well, Nick, we have to move fast. I hope you can run.”
“I’m one of the fastest in my village.”
Fes shook his head. “What is it about competition and villages?” he muttered.
“What was that?” Nick asked.
“Nothing. Stay close.” He hesitated, turning to Nick for a moment. “Do you know how to handle a sword?”
“Not well. The last time…”
“Hopefully, this won’t be like the last time. It’s not my plan to run in and attack. I plan to run away from our attackers, but I want you to be prepared if there is the need.”
Fes unsheathed one of his swords and offered it out to Nick. There was a part of him that hesitated, but the sword wasn’t his. He’d stolen it, and he needed the help.
“I’ve never seen anything like it before.”
“It’s stolen from the Dragon Guard.”
Nick’s breath caught. “You stole this from a Dragon Guard? Who are you?”
“I already t
old you. I’m Fes.”
He ran into the night, holding on to his daggers as he made no attempt to keep low—or quiet. Nick raced behind him, sword in hand, a step behind Fes.
They were barely fifty yards from the lead wagon when he heard a shout.
“We have to keep moving,” he urged Nick.
Even though it was dark, Fes could make out the undulations and the terrain. It was somewhat rocky here, enough so that he would stumble if he weren’t able to see well.
He glanced over at Nick and realized that he wasn’t having any difficulty either. Nick pulled up alongside him, sprinting. He glanced at Fes before hazarding a glance back. “I thought you were fast,” Fes said.
“I am fast. Never met anyone who can run as fast as me.”
Fes smiled. Maybe they would be able to get away. If their connection to the Deshazl granted them that, then perhaps he didn’t need to worry, not as he had.
Something whizzed nearby.
“What was that?” Panic had crept into Nick’s voice.
“That’s an arrow,” Fes said.
“You don’t seem to mind that they are shooting at us?”
“I can’t do a whole lot to stop it, and besides, we need to keep drawing them away.”
“Are we going to get away?”
Fes grunted. “I hope so.”
Another arrow whistled past, this one sinking into the ground barely two feet in front of him. They’d been lucky that it hadn’t hit.
“If you began to feel—” he looked over and saw that Nick was slowing.
“Ignore it. Focus on something deep within yourself, not on the Calling.”
At least Nick was still moving. There was a part of Fes that had worried that he would stop entirely, but he hadn’t. He had slowed, which would make it more difficult for them, but he hadn’t stopped.
Could Nick have a greater connection to the Deshazl than some of the others?
“What’s the Calling?” Nick asked. His voice was strained, and sweat began to beat on his brow.
“The Calling is what they are doing to us.”
Strangely, Fes didn’t feel it. Did they direct it at Nick?
Maybe they were trying to pick them off. Fes wasn’t going to allow Nick to be captured, not like that. He would defend him as best he could, though how was he going to do so? Was there any way to intervene?
There probably was, especially as Arudis somehow could interrupt the Calling, or at least mitigate the effect.
“I can’t.”
“You can,” Fes said.
He grabbed for Nick’s arm, and when he did, he felt a jolt.
The Calling that struck Nick flowed into Fes, but when it did, he was aware of what was happening, and he tamped it down, controlling it the same way that he had when he had escaped the woman using it on him. Fes glanced over at Nick and saw the other man frowning.
“You feel it, don’t you?” Fes asked.
“I feel it, but I don’t know what it is.”
“This is a part of you. This is why they captured you.”
“But what is it?”
“You—me—we are descended from the Deshazl. Because of that, they can control us, but we can learn to fight it.”
“How did you learn to fight it?”
Fes shook his head. He hadn’t been looking for Deshazl, but he had come across them. He hadn’t really been looking for anything other than a way to keep himself and Jayell safe. And now… Now he felt as if he were pulled into something much greater than himself. Now he felt as if he were obligated to be a part of it, regardless of whether or not he wanted to.
But that couldn’t deny that he did want to be a part of this. If there were others like him, others with this surprising ability, he needed to be a part of it. He needed to know them, and he needed to know what they could do.
“Fes—”
He gripped Nick by the arm, dragging him along. “Just a little farther,” Fes said.
“There’s nothing here,” Nick said.
If they were near the coast, then they might have to swim. Normally, Fes wouldn’t even consider something like that, but with these others chasing them, with the Calling dragging him and Nick backward, seeking to pull them away, he didn’t have the luxury of choice.
“Just a little farther,” he said.
They ran, and there was the sound of shouting behind them, close enough that Fes didn’t dare risk turning. If they did, it would slow him, and more than that, he feared that it would compel him to follow the Calling. For now, he managed to ignore the sense of it, but would he be able to continue to ignore that if he looked back at them? Would he be able to ignore it if he met the eyes of his captors?
He heard water.
It came as great crashing waves, an unfamiliar sound, yet Fes still knew exactly what it was. He’d never been to the sea and had never heard the sound of waves slamming against the shore, but that had to be what he heard now.
An arrow whistled by them, and Fes ducked his head. The arrow sped over him, narrowly missing him. He felt it as much as he heard it.
They needed to run, and he feared moving too slowly. Just a few more steps. That was all he needed. He could hear the sea.
“Where now?” Nick asked as the shoreline came into view.
As Fes slowed, the effect of the Calling almost overwhelming him, Nick jerked him forward, dragging him along the shoreline. Far below, he could hear the sea crashing. It had to be hundreds of feet below them. This wasn’t any place that he could jump, not safely or with any hope of surviving.
He risked glancing back. As he did, he saw the movement behind him. More people that he could count chased them, many of them with bows, several of swords held out, and all of them with anger burning in their eyes.
If nothing else, they had managed to stay ahead of the Damhur and had managed to keep them safe. Hopefully, Dobrah and Nina and the boy had managed to find safety. The others could join them.
But even if they did, where would they go?
Nowhere. Without Fes to guide them, how would they find Arudis and the others? They wouldn’t know there were others, or even where to find them, and they would be left helpless.
No. Fes was not going to run, not any longer.
“What are you doing?” Nick asked, pulling on Fes.
“I’m not running.”
“You’re the one who wanted me to help you escape.”
“You get moving,” Fes said. “I’m going to hold them off. I should be able to buy you enough time. If you can, circle around and head north. The others are there. If you’re as fast as you said, you shouldn’t have any difficulty catching up to them.”
Nick shook his head. “This is suicide.”
“No. This is what has to happen,” he said.
He unsheathed the sword. It would be better fighting with that than the daggers. The sword had a greater reach, and using it, he thought that he might be able to hold them back longer.
“Why are you doing this?”
Why was he doing it?
Could it be that he was doing it because of what happened to his parents?
No. He did it because he needed to. He did it because these others had thought to use him. Because he wouldn’t run from them, and because he might be the only way that Nick managed to escape.
“Go!”
He turned to the others and raced toward them.
The pursuit stopped and arrows whistled past him, but Fes ignored them, preferring to focus on the nearest attackers. Several of them had swords, and he slipped beneath their swinging blades, slicing through their bellies and continuing onward. Using the dragonglass sword, he was able to carve through them.
All of the attackers didn’t have their attention on him.
Why would that be? Why wouldn’t they focus on Fes?
Because Nick fought next to him.
He was unskilled, but whatever it was that made them Deshazl burned within Nick the same as it burned within Fes, and using that
ability, Nick was able to cut through their attackers, slicing faster than the other men could act. Through it all, there came the sense of the Calling.
He needed to find that person first.
As Fes twisted through the attackers, carving them up, he found her.
It was the same woman he had attacked before.
Her eyes widened as she saw him. Pressure built, focusing on him, and he ignored the sense of what she was doing to him, focusing only on himself.
His movements slowed, but they didn’t stop. Something slashed at his arm.
Fes ignored the pain and slammed his shoulder forward, crashing into the nearest attacker, stomping on them before turning to the next person. With a sharp kick, he crumpled their knee and moved his attention on to another attacker.
On and on he went, slamming his sword into one after the other before coming face to face with the woman.
Power built around him.
“You shouldn’t be able to ignore the Calling,” she said.
“Because the others haven’t?”
He saw movement behind him and twisted, realizing almost too late that Nick came at him. There was something deep in his eyes that told Fes he wasn’t in control.
Fes kicked off to the side, catching the woman in the chest. Now was not the time to think about attacking a woman. If he didn’t bring her down, Nick would carve him up.
Her control over him faltered, but only for a moment.
Fes deflected the sword, trying it free from Nick’s grip. He took the blade and turned his attention to the woman, using the dual blades to slash at the nearest two attackers. Both men fell, dropping beneath the speed of his attack and the dragonglass blade.
He turned away, and Nick slammed into him, almost forcing Fes to drop his sword.
“Focus on yourself,” Fes said.
“I. Can’t.”
“You can. It’s in you,” Fes said.
He turned his attention back to the woman. She had crawled away. Fes ran toward her, but Nick caught him from behind, forcing him away from her.
The woman looked up. “You can’t win. Eventually, even you will lose control, and then I will have a much greater prize than I had realized.”
“You will never win. Not with me.”
Dragon Rise Page 15