“I understand,” Oren answers, swallowing carefully.
“What does he understand?” The speaker’s measured tone adds: I have a few more questions and you’d better have really good answers for them.
The sound of my father’s question coming from behind me fills me with joy and fear. I try to turn to look at him, but the disagreeable horse sidesteps, making me concentrate on not falling off. By the time I recover my balance and still the horse, my father stands between me and the men exchanging money for my life.
For a short time, everything is right in the world. Then, several things happen. Lerik and Ederon—who I clearly forgot about—move their horses up beside Sara and me, slash the ropes holding us to the saddles, knock us off, leap down, and press daggers to our necks.
Well, this is a fine mess.
Strangely, I want to laugh, and I’m definitely entertaining some dagger envy. It doesn’t matter that I’d probably be more of a danger to myself than anybody else with a dagger. Everybody else seems to have one. Maybe I’m finally losing the last shreds of sanity I have left after this week.
“We were just concluding Oren’s contract,” Lekros explains, pulling his dagger back and tucking it away.
“The contract you put on my daughter,” my father adds. “Why would you do that?”
Oren gathers the rest of his money, shoves it back in the bag, and climbs to his feet. Nodding to the Supreme Huntmaster, Oren backs away and offers him a mock bow. “A pleasure doing business with—”
“If you move from that spot without permission, I will kill you,” interrupts Lekros. His eyes pin Oren in place and his right hand hovers near one of the throwing daggers on his belt. Without shifting his gaze, he addresses my father. “Oren’s contract was only so I could fulfill my contract, for you. So the deal is simply this, you surrender, and Victoria is free to go.”
“Done,” declares my father.
“No!” I cry at the same time. Lerik presses down on my left shoulder to keep me in place and moves his blade so that a thin cut opens on my neck, but I don’t care.
“Good!” cheers Lekros. “Oren, kill him. Then you may go.”
“Hypocrite,” mutters Oren, drawing his dagger.
“It’s bad form to kill a man without at least telling him why he must die,” scolds a jolly, silky voice from behind us, “especially if he’s kin.”
“Jack!” exclaims my father. Though his voice holds surprise, a faint note of hope also exists. The hope vanishes beneath suspicion when my father asks, “What’s going on?”
A man dressed in black walks into my line of sight and faces my father, careful to stay out of reach. This must be Uncle Jack, my mother’s younger brother, the Conjurer. He’s thin and pale and sickly looking. I’ve never met him, but I’ve certainly heard of him.
“You’ll die soon, Daniel, but not this exact moment.” informs Uncle Jack. “You deserve it for corrupting my sister, but I need a moment to enjoy the triumph.” His dark eyes, which seem to suck in light, widen in horror. “Be a good man and let Oren bind you so I don’t have to kill you prematurely.”
Oren glances at Lekros who confirms the order with a nod. Looking mystified, Oren fetches some rope from one of the horses, forces my father to sit down, and binds his hands and feet.
“That’s better,” comments Uncle Jack.
“Get on with it,” grouses the Supreme Huntmaster.
Clearly enjoying himself, Uncle Jack asks my father, “Did you know that your illustrious Supreme Huntmaster has the same grandfather as you? Do you know why this fact is important?”
“Let Victoria and the other girl go, Jack.” My father sounds weary.
I want to hold him and let him protect me.
Uncle Jack’s expression flips from playful to dangerous.
“Don’t spoil the fun, Daniel, or I’ll have to hurt one of them.”
A yelp from Sara tells me Ederon’s done something to emphasize Uncle Jack’s point.
Seething, my father shoves his next several breaths through clenched teeth. Then, forcing himself to be calm, he says, “No, I did not know that. Why should it matter?”
“The bracers,” whispers Lekros.
“The bracers,” Uncle Jack echoes. His eyes gleam as he stares at my bracers. “We both seek them, but—”
“Take them!” I shout. Blood pounds so hard in my temple, I think something might burst soon. A scream gets locked in my throat, burning like I’d swallowed a boiling potato.
“No, Victoria,” Sara whispers. “They’re the only things preventing the turning.”
“I don’t care!” I snap. “Take the bracers!” I scream at Uncle Jack and the Supreme Huntmaster, holding my arms as far out as the ropes will allow. “Let him go! Stop threatening people!” I stop speaking because anything else will simply be raving.
“Brave, but pointless,” says Uncle Jack. “There is the matter of succession.”
“What does—”
I don’t get to finish my question because Sara’s sharp intake of breath tells me she already has the answer.
“Well, go on, girl, don’t keep them waiting for enlightenment,” Uncle Jack prompts.
“Vic doesn’t own the bracers,” my father says flatly. He shifts so he can look at me. “I do.” Tearing his eyes from me, he looks to Uncle Jack and Lekros. “Kill me for whatever reason you think right, but let her keep the bracers for three more years. When she’s a woman in full, she may be able to live without them.”
Uncle Jack draws in a breath, holds it a moment, and releases it.
“Ah, the sweet sounds of pleading. Magnificent.” Beaming, he waves toward my father. “Supreme Huntmaster, I believe the contract can now be fulfilled, but do the honors yourself.”
Pursing his lips in annoyance, Lekros pulls out two of his throwing daggers and flicks them at my father.
Sara and I both scream.
Chapter 18:
Awakening
Victoria Saveron
Courtyard Ruins to Lower Dungeons, Fort Amareth
I lunge towards my father, straining at the length of rope connecting my wrists and neck.
Lerik’s quick reflexes save me from splitting my neck open upon his blade or strangling myself. Instead of killing me, his dagger bites most of the way through the rope around my neck. The last strands constrict about my throat, causing my vision to blacken as my body fights off unconsciousness. With desperate strength, I yank downward with both wrists, snapping the few remaining strands. Sweet, tepid air floods my lungs and my eyes immediately seek my father.
Spots dance around my blurry vision, making the scene before me difficult to understand. This is nothing like waking after a battle, at least then my senses are clear.
A large wolf lies draped across my father’s fallen form. I cannot see either of their faces, but they’re not moving. For a moment, I can only sit on the ground, pull air into my aching lungs, and listen to my heart pound in my ears.
“Free their ankles. We need to move them to the portal,” says Uncle Jack, sounding like he’s speaking through water. He frowns deeply, but I can’t spare the emotion to be satisfied by it.
Scrambling forward, using my elbows to drag my bound feet along the ground, I cover half the distance to my father before something heavy—Lerik—lands on top of my back. What little breath I have left gushes from my body, leaving me no strength to resist as Lerik hauls me to my knees, cuts the ropes around my ankles, and yanks me to my feet. I’m afraid to look at my father’s still form, but I must.
From a standing position, I see one of the throwing daggers lodged in my father’s left shoulder and the other buried at the base of the wolf’s thick neck. Blood flows from both wounds, staining the wolf’s shiny fur, my father’s shirt, and the stones and dust beneath them. Grunting with effort, my father struggles to shift the wolf’s body off his chest.
“Help him!” I snap at everybody watching my father’s efforts to free himself, momentarily forgetting they had just
tried to kill him. “Get it off him.” My voice drops to a horrified whisper.
Where did the wolf come from?
Suddenly, I remember seeing this wolf in the Karnok Mountains.
The wolf whimpers.
Uncle Jack figures it out first.
“Take the dagger out and we’ll find out. He’s a Shapeshifter.”
Ederon leaves his post guarding Sara to do as Uncle Jack suggests. Approaching from behind, Ederon grips the small dagger’s handle with one hand and braces himself against the wolf’s side with the other.
As soon as the blade slides free, the wolf morphs into a young man with jet black hair and a deep gash on top of his left shoulder very close to the base of his neck.
Supreme Huntmaster Lekros motions and Ederon pulls the wounded man upright. Despite the pain it must cause him, the young man twists away and casts pale blue eyes upon me. As our eyes meet, I feel like I should know him, though I’m sure we’ve never met. Annoyed, Ederon grips the young man’s arm, marches him over to Lekros, and forces him to kneel before the Arkonai leader.
Knowing Lerik must be distracted, I kick back and connect with his left shin. Unfortunately, we’re too close for me to do any real damage, but he loosens his grip enough for me to break free and go to my father. I’m by his side just long enough to pull the dagger out and toss it away. If I had been thinking clearer, I would have kept the dagger, but the urge to get it as far away as possible proves too strong. Then, Lerik’s at my side, again pulling me up as my father continues to bleed at my feet.
“You should have left the dagger in,” Lerik comments. He sounds almost sorry. “There’s nothing you can do now. Arkonai throwing daggers are almost always poisoned.”
A strong denial gets lost in the panic growing in my mind. My breaths come quicker now but somehow each yields less useful air than the last.
“Question the boy later. We should move now,” Uncle Jack insists.
Lerik’s grip loosens slightly as he pushes me toward the yawning entrance to the fort’s main structure.
“No!” I shout, twisting my body violently to wrench my arm free. “Let me stay with him!” Tears nearly blind me.
“Control her!” Lekros yells with disgust.
“How? She’s not even thinking right now,” grumbles Lerik.
The left side of my head explodes with pain as a fist slams into my temple above my eye. Everything blanks out, yet I’m strangely aware of falling. Opening my eyes causes more pain and dizziness, so I shut my eyes and try to remember how to stand. Hands catch me under my arms and begin dragging me.
I’m not sure how the rest of the journey to the lower dungeons proceeds. By the time the world stops spinning, I’m kneeling in the center of a large, sand-covered pit, staring listlessly up at Uncle Jack.
“Wake up, Victoria,” Uncle Jack orders, gently patting my cheek. “Now’s not the time for rest. Give me the bracers.”
Though still confused, I have enough strength and sense to shake my head.
“I’m trying to spare you for Alec’s sake, but I could take the bracers off your cold, dead corpse,” says Uncle Jack impatiently.
Who’s Alec? I wonder.
“I can’t.” My voice sounds as empty as I feel inside.
“You can and you will, or I’ll have—”
The new threat sends hot anger coursing to every part of my body, clearing the fog from my mind.
“I can’t!” I repeat, sharpening my gaze on Uncle Jack. “They’ve hardly been off a day since I got them. Most times they don’t even let me take them off.” Holding my hands out to him, I add, “Go on. Try to take them off.”
The bracers are currently in their thin form, appearing to be nothing more than ornate metal bracelets, fancy cuffs holding me prisoner. However, as soon as Uncle Jack touches them, the bracers take on their defensive form, covering my forearms. A sudden tingling in my teeth warns me of something dark approaching a half-second before the bracers light up.
“What’s happening?” Lekros barks the question at Uncle Jack in a tone that adds: What else can go wrong with this plan?
“It’s starting! They’re ready. Open the portal, my dear.” Uncle Jack looks positively gleeful.
“I don’t—” I cut myself off as the knowledge floods me.
Do as he says. I will be with you. The thoughts come complete with that same strange, ageless female voice. In one flash of inspiration, The Lady explains what mere mortals cannot understand. Uncle Jack wants me to open the Darkland portals, but I am the Chosen Redeemer, I can access more than that evil place. I can reach the Veil to Kailon’s homeland.
“You may not know, but those bracers know their purpose,” Uncle Jack whispers reverently, breaking into my thoughts. “Open the portal or watch as I have Ederon gut the girl and Lerik tear the boy’s heart out to throw at your feet.”
“That is disgusting,” I mutter. Oddly, the threat helps me think. “Why would the Arkonai help you anyway?” He doesn’t answer the question. “Untie me.”
Uncle Jack stares like he’s trying to see within me to root out deception.
“You still have your hostages,” I remind my uncle.
“That’s—”
“I can’t fulfill your order until the bracers are uninhibited,” I say, cutting off Lekros’s objection. Honestly, I have no idea where the fancy words or calm tone come from, but they seem right.
After another long stare, Uncle Jack conjures a small knife and cuts the ropes holding my hands together. Through great effort, I remain perfectly still to spare the two prisoners painful deaths.
“May I stand?” My leg muscles burn from kneeling so long.
Uncle Jack waves permission and steps aside so he’s not standing in front of me anymore.
Closing my eyes, I stretch forth my hands and speak the ancient words filling my mind. “Hama, portoolen esto negmon. Hama, shato efin pece. Celastra enselema, adictudo: alam.” In the common language, the words mean, “Hear me, gateway to lands best forgotten. Hear me, path to a better place. With the power entrusted to me, I command thee both: open.”
At first my arms stiffen, but then they move of their own accord. My right forearm crosses over my left forearm. The sound of howling wind engulfs me. Fingers splayed wide, light gushes from the bracers through my hands and begins forming two glowing, blue-white rings side by side in the air above my crossed arms.
I feel like I’m swimming, and my arms waver as my body trembles to contain the energy using me as a conduit. The portals start from the bottom, where the bracers’ light focuses, then split and arc upward, carving a curved path that swings out symmetrically to both sides and meets at the top.
Once formed, the two portals descend until they are inches above the ground and move like doors on hinges, angling away from each other. The energy flowing from the bracers slows and stops. As I get to the open command, the portals appear transparent, letting us gaze into foreign lands.
The portal on my left shows a dark place filled with fire and lined with masses of undead waiting to cross over. The sight can do nothing but drain one of hope. The portal on my right offers a glimpse into a green place full of life and lined with white-robed warriors armed with gleaming swords.
A second slowly stretches as the captains of both armies eye each other grimly. Then, together, they step through to begin their battle.
Uncle Jack lets out a bloodcurdling scream.
“What have you done?” He spins me around to look into my eyes.
I smile.
“Kill them!” Uncle Jack cries.
Parts of my spirit I never knew awaken, and my smile widens as I spring into action.
Chapter 19:
Chosen Redeemer
Victoria Saveron
Lower Dungeons, Fort Amareth
This is the first fight I remember. A thought carries me to Sara’s side in an instant, just as Ederon hears the kill order. As his hand twitches to obey, I catch it with my right hand and squeeze. A bright
flash fills the room around us. Sara’s surprised cry immediately gets overridden by Ederon’s panicked, pain-filled scream as pure white light flows through my bracer down my hand into his wrist. I let go and Ederon recoils, stumbling backward and slamming his head against the stone wall.
After confirming Sara is safe, I seek the wounded young man who intercepted a dagger for my father. I do not know whether my father yet lives, but I cannot spare the time to consider the possibility of his death. Two fates lie before me. I could check on my father and let the battle play out as it will, or I can do what he would do.
Spotting the young man, I leap across the distance between us and place my hands over the deep gash running along his left shoulder. Another white flash surrounds us as the wound closes. He cries out as the power flowing through him burns away the poison. As soon as the healing completes, he transforms into a wolf, bows to me, and rushes to join the fray.
As I consider where to best apply myself, the fight comes to me. Three undead armed with spirit swords rush at me. I duck the first zombie’s sword and catch the second’s side swing on my left bracer. The evil weapon explodes, flinging shards everywhere. I open my mouth to scream, but no sound emerges, only more white light which destroys every speck that was the spirit sword.
My three foes cower and cover their eyes. The wolf crashes into the lot of them and they disappear in a cloud of dark dust. Before I can thank the wolf, he dashes off to challenge a Denkari advancing on Sara.
Another Denkari leaps at me from behind. Sensing the danger, I move instinctively, dropping into a crouch and ducking so that the creature’s attack carries it well over my body. Using my left hand for balance, I glance up and prepare for a renewed attack.
It’s almost too late. The Denkari’s twin spirit swords are already swinging toward me. I shake my right hand like one would to throw off water and a blade about the length of my bracer drops out, protruding a hand’s length beyond my fingertips. Marveling at the new weapon, I jump forward and swing up, driving the blade deep under the Denkari’s chin.
Awakening (Redeemer Chronicles Book 1) Page 10