“What’s that one doing? You there, stop your actions,” one of the unseen guards called out.
Theus felt the darkness rushing through him. It knew him now, and it knew him well. The evil had sat dormant within him, constrained by the power of the pendant, but observing and learning about him at all times. Just as he had begun to learn about it.
Theus silently thought the incantation that allowed him to control the wind and the air. It was an exhausting spell, one that required a great deal of his personal energy to be drained away, but in this instance, it seemed to be the most suitable tool to use.
“Forgon, Eiren, Holco, get ready to run to freedom when I give the signal,” he spoke loudly.
“Kill them all, right now,” a different voice shouted.
Theus called upon the spell for the generation of light, and he propelled three spheres of bright illumination overhead, to allow him to see what and who surrounded his group. He was forcing the two spells to work separately, the wind spell sitting on the cusp of being activated, while the light spell sprang into action.
He felt pain, as his energy was tainted by the darkness and the journey through the plane of demons. He wanted to jerk the pendant back over his head, to end his pain.
But he couldn’t; a full squad, at least a dozen men, surrounded the captive escapees; he could see them in the new light.
Theus released the breeze he had called. He strengthened it and funneled it, so that it blew down with blistering power, struck the core of soldiers directly in front of Theus’s friends, and knocked them all off their feet, and several yards away. There were some who cried out in alarm, but others were not even able to do that before the malevolent wind struck them and crumpled them into unconscious piles scattered about on the ground.
“Go!” Theus thundered. “Forgon, take them back to the camp. I’ll hold the Stoke forces at bay to give you time to escape.”
“Follow me!” Forgon urged the others.
A pair of Stoke guards who were still standing tried to dart in and grab Eiren, before Theus commanded his glowing orbs to drop down directly into the faces of the men, frightening them to shout and dive for cover.
“Go!” Theus shouted again. “I see others coming, and my energy won’t last long.”
“Thank you Theus,” Holco murmured as he followed Forgon past Theus, his hand gripping Eiren’s arm to help her move along.
The trio moved past Theus, and into the free lands beyond, as Theus raised his balls of energy back upwards, and spread them widely to better illuminate the immediate vicinity. He wanted to be able to see and stop any pursuit that might be forming.
His energy was starting to wane already, and he knew that he would soon run out.
He had to hold off any pursuit. He released his hold on the energy that made the breeze blow maniacally around him, lessening the strain on his abilities. That done, he called on the power to throw his voice, and he amplified it, causing it to broadcast his words for a hundred yards in all directions.
“Do not follow us. Do not interfere with us. Go back to Stoke. Put an end to this fight. You will not win,” he sent his words of warning out to the ears of all the soldiers in his vicinity. It would hopefully prove to be intimidating enough to at least scare off the chase, and perhaps even to stir up some unease among the men who were in the camp.
“Impressive tricks, stripling,” a deep voice spoke from the darkness that his light did not reach.
“I want you to be warned, before I take the next step,” Theus said calmly.
“What next step?” a shadow stepped out of the darkness, and began to walk calmly towards Theus.
Theus felt another jolt of pain as he called upon his energies once more, and summoned further gales of wind, to blow the man away immediately. It was best, Theus decided, to appear invincible, even if it meant depleting his remaining power to critically low levels.
He shivered with pain as the taint of Donal’s infection affected his efforts once more, and then he released the blast of air intended to remove his challenger.
As he did, the man began to glow with a deep purple light, and then a counteracting force of air descended and swept into place against Theus’s thrust, negating its power and leaving the glowing stranger standing in place, calm and ominous.
“Are you the one who has been spreading chaos throughout the kingdom and beyond?” the man asked.
“Who are you?” Theus asked in return.
“I am Glock, one of the last of Donal’s disciples, his assigned power in the court of Stoke,” the glowing man answered. “And I am not amused by this trouble you are causing for my master’s plans. You remember me, I imagine.”
Theus did; the name and the appearance triggered the memories. He remembered arriving in Stoke after fleeing from Southsand and Steep Rise; he had discovered Forgon on trial for murder. The murder case had been tried in Stoke, because the victim was a member of a branch of the royal family. Theus had been able to prove Forgon’s innocence.
In the courtroom at the time had been Glock, who had lied and schemed and tried to manipulate the evidence to assure Forgon’s conviction and execution for murder. Glock had been outraged by Theus’s interference.
“We need to dispose of you, it seems,” and with that the man raised both his hands and pointed them at Theus. “It will be my pleasure to carry out what I should have done months ago, the first time I met you in Stoke.”
Theus had little energy left. He knew that the unexpected appearance of the dark magician was a formidable threat, one that he wasn’t going to be able to counter in the sunless darkness of the night, while his energies were depleted. He would have to seek to escape.
He doused the floating lights that hovered in the sky, allowing darkness to regain ascendency in the patch of field where the skirmish was occurring. He hoped that Forgon and the others had sped away with all haste possible, and as he thought that, he dove to his right and rolled on the ground.
The glowing figure of Glock remained standing and visible. As Theus dove, the magician fired a stream of burning fire at the spot Theus had vacated, charring the ground just feet away from where Theus had rolled in desperation.
“Not such a great fighter when faced with a worthy opponent, are you?” Glock taunted. The magician raised a globe of light and elevated it into the air above the battle scene, revealing Theus’s position for all to see. Numerous members of the Stoke guard had approached the scene, feeling safe to approach Theus in the company of their own magician.
“Destroy this mongrel Glock, I command you as your prince,” a man who remained timidly removed away from the confrontation called out his order in a squeaky voice. It was presumably Eudie, the prince who was heir to the throne, and apparently closely allied with Donal’s agent in the Stoke court.
“It will be my pleasure to do as you wish, my lord,” Glock replied. He faced away from the man who ordered him, and Theus could see the roll of the eyes and the look of condescension on the magician’s face as he answered the royal member of the court.
He pointed his hands at Theus once again, and expelled another blast of fire that singed Theus’s pants as the boy rolled to the side, then scrambled out of the line of fire.
Theus had to escape. He couldn’t fight. He didn’t have enough energy to wage combat. But he could try to evade. He thought of the spell to create invisibility, then unleashed it, feeling it begin to consume the last vestiges of his own energy.
“Whoa, ho!” Glock shouted gleefully as Theus disappeared. “Our mighty warrior is now trying to be a rabbit, hiding and dodging and running away? This isn’t right!”
The man’s voice deepened and hardened. “Now we’ll close the trap on our little rabbit and roast the foolish animal,” he said.
The glowing orb of light overhead suddenly flared in a greenish color of light, and remained that shade.
“I see you now,” Glock growled. He faced the palm of one hand at Theus, and suddenly the boy was jerked off t
he ground, held upright by a force that constricted his chest as it dangled him several feet above the earth, hanging as though suspended by an invisible rope, or a hangman’s noose tied beneath his arms.
Theus panicked. He couldn’t breathe. He ran out of energy, and knew that he was visible, a dismal sight for the gathering audience of soldiers who had come to watch Glock toy with him.
“Why don’t we roast our timid rabbit?” Glock taunted. He pointed a hand, and a fire began to blaze beneath Theus. He felt the heat immediately, a warmth that quickly became pain, intense in his feet and ankles, painful in his legs, and discomforting across the rest of his body. He was being killed, and he was being humiliated in the process.
“This is wrong!” he bellowed, as he felt the darkness within him rising to take control of him; it was fighting to protect itself by protecting its host.
The darkness knew a way to protect him, to fight back, to win the battle.
He needed energy, and the darkness told him how to take the energy he needed. He had only to reach out to the men around him, and take energy from them. It was the dark magic way, the way that attacked and violated its victims, the way that Donal used to be a powerful magician. It was revolting and disturbing. But it was his only way to stay alive, and the dark infection within him whispered to him that he could do it, must do it.
He felt blisters starting to form on the heels of his feet. Through his teary eyes, he could see Glock and Eudie standing side-by-side, laughing at his failure, and imminent death. Theus closed his eyes, and pulled the ruby necklace over his head.
He directed his attention to the prince and the magician, then closed his eyes, and let his senses reach out, just as they had reached out when he had gathered the sunlight and used its power for his own purposes.
“What are you doing?” Glock screamed, as Theus latched on to the magician first, and began to withdraw a healthy portion of the magician’s own purloined power. Theus felt the heat of the fire beneath him diminish, as Glock’s ability to maintain the blaze began to dwindle.
Theus needed more power. He formed a sheet of swiftly moving air, and directed it to flow between him and the fire, suddenly sweeping the heat away from him and towards Glock. There was more energy around, and the darkness within him was hungry for it. Without Theus’s cooperation or desire or support, the darkness took his soul on a journey around the audience, tapping men, causing them to scream and cry out as they felt their life force drained and withdrawn.
The energy within him was building, mounting at an incredible pace, surging into a reservoir of potential greater than he had ever felt.
Glock’s fire beneath him ceased to burn, and the powerful force binding Theus disappeared, causing him to drop painfully to the ground.
He could not stand – his feet hurt too badly. He dropped down to his knees, angry on his own, and possessing the amplified anger of the darkness within him. He reached for light energy and wind energy, and created a boiling mass of destructive fire that he hoisted high overhead. It was as if a midnight sun was burning over the camp of the Stoke army, throwing nighttime to the side, and revealing the numerous soldiers who were suddenly startled and fearful of the changing circumstances.
They began to flee. Theus could see soldiers running away.
Eudie screamed at Glock. “Do something to him! Kill him!” the prince shouted, his voice high-pitched and fearful.
The ball of energy overhead suddenly dropped a streamer of burning energy downward directly at Glock. The rope of light touched the magician, who screamed as he began to burn, turning into a pyre of flame that lasted for mere seconds, while the streamer of power ascended upward and was reabsorbed into the globe.
“Glock!” the prince shouted in horror, as his magician was reduced to a pile of ashes.
Another streamer of fire descended from the globe, and then, simultaneously, another and another and another and another. The first of the fingers of energy fell down upon the prince before he could even give a last scream, while the others branched, then branched, then branched again, so that each of them began to hunt down and kill the many soldiers who were still watching, as well as those who were fleeing.
The battlefield became a field of bright, deadly, short-lived candles, as soldier after soldier was struck by the strokes of incandescent power. Theus felt the power that had painfully rushed into him being drawn out in just as agonizing a manner, making him cry for his own suffering, as well as for the too many soldiers whose live were being snuffed out by the globe of energy.
“Stop! Make it stop!” he shouted. He collapsed to his hands and knees, then tried to focus on putting an end to the carnage. He let his consciousness withdraw into the very kernel of his soul, and forced it to block the power that was siphoning away.
The grounds around him grew suddenly dark, as he felt the energy cease to flow and the murderous sun in the sky fizzled to a close.
“You fool!” the evil darkness whispered within his psyche. “You weak fool; we could have had more!”
Theus lifted the pendant that was in his hand, and slipped it back over his neck, then lapsed into unconsciousness.
Chapter 7
Theus awoke in excruciating pain. The pain in his soul was equal to the pain in his body, which was wracked with torments and cramps, burns and blisters. He opened his eyes and looked upwards. There was a tent ceiling overhead, and he slowly grasped the fact that he was not only alive, but under the care of someone who had given him shelter.
He moaned in pain. “Where am I?” he asked.
A woman’s voice answered. “You are in the camp of Prince Holco.”
“May I have some water, please?” Theus interrupted her to ask, as he closed his eyes again.
“I have some for you. Open your mouth,” Theus identified the voice as Eiren’s. He obeyed her request, and felt moisture dripped between his lips, splashing off his tongue and helping to sate his terrible thirst. He eagerly accepted the water, and asked for more, then more again.
“Where are we?” he asked after a pause.
“You’re in the camp of Prince Holco,” Eiren answered. Theus’s blurry vision came into focus, and he saw her sitting next to him.
“You probably want to know what happened, don’t you?” she asked carefully.
“Yes, please.” He rasped.
“What’s the last thing you remember?” Eiren asked.
“Death,” Theus droned the word mournfully; it rattled in his throat. “So much death. It was my fault.”
“Well,” she paused to clear her throat, troubled by the dismal statement. “Forgon and Holco and I were running across a field, when the sky turned dark behind us.
“Forgon told us to stop, that it might mean you were leaving the Stoke camp and following us out. We all crouched down, and saw the darkness, then a new light rose,” she explained. “We were all silent, until we saw you dangled in the air, and Forgon said we had to try to go back to save you.
“But we were only halfway back when you dropped to the ground, and the light went out, but then the new globe of light rose in the sky, and we saw,” she paused, upset and unwilling to speak of the rest of the night, the slaughter of the Stoke soldiers. “We saw what happened.
“After the sky turned dark again, the three of us ran and found you. Forgon and I stayed with you, while Holco went to see what help might be available in the camp. He found that at least half the men in the army had been killed, including most of the officers,” Eiren explained. “The rest of them automatically turned to him to be the new commander of those that remained alive.
“That was two days ago,” the girl wrapped her story up. “Holco sent men with a stretcher to find us, and they carried you to this tent. Forgon went out in the morning and summoned all his men and your men to come to the city. Holco negotiated a peace settlement with Greenfalls, and we’ve been waiting for you to awaken in the meantime.”
“Is there any medicine available? Could you make some for me?”
Theus asked, as he flinched in pain.
He recited the things needed to make salves for his burn and abrasions. Eiren left the tent to begin compiling the medicine, while Forgon entered with Amelia. The pair sat and spoke softly, until Holco came and visited.
Theus remained in the tent for two days, receiving medical care until he was deemed healthy enough to be moved into the city. There were no longer any hostilities underway among any of the forces; Holco made arrangements to send the Stoke army back over the mountains to return to Stoke, a force less than half the size that it had been at its outset, with the evil magician Glock, a malevolent influence in the court of Stoke, and Eudie, the heir to the throne, both now dead. The report of the disaster at Greenfalls and the deaths of the army’s leaders would stir chaos in the court, Holco knew.
The prince didn’t want to be in the court when word of Greenfalls reached the king’s ears, and the others all understood his reasoning.
“Theus, may I join your group traveling to see this impossible lost city of yours?” Holco asked Theus on his fifth day of recovery, as the wounded magician began to hobble around on his rapidly healing feet.
“You’re welcome to come see Limber, of course!” Theus cried in affirmation, pleased that so many visitors were on the journey to see Limber. Their witness to Limber’s existence would be a valuable message to send out to the other great cities of the world, he felt confident. And his pleasure helped in part to salve his guilt over the savage slaughter. When Theus was able to walk with greater ease, he traveled about the city and visited with Alsman, while he learned that the priest and Eiren were keeping the city running smoothly.
“Without all the bribes and corruption of the former governor, we have enough money to operate all our services better than before,” Alsman said. “And she is a genius at organization,” he nodded fondly at Eiren, who looked back at him with a smile and bright eyes.
Tangled Engagements (The Memory Stones Series Book 4) Page 9