by Mark Ryan
He reached a trembling hand down. Grabbed the flesh and bone below his waist. No sensation. No response. His legs lay like so much deadwood chopped for the fire.
No … no! He couldn’t move … couldn’t fight.…
He had to … he had to … Save her.…
As a smoky haze stole over his eyes and mind, a last thought spoke to him in Halli’s voice: Fight, Tetra. No matter the cost, no matter the pain, never give up.
***
Chapter 13
Malthius Reynolds
Reynolds stood at attention in Lord Calhein Drayston’s main meeting chamber. Rather than using the main hall, Lord Drayston preferred his office. The room’s stone floors were covered with thick rugs and a massive fire blazed in the hearth. Bookshelves dominated the walls, instead of the usual tapestries in the rest of the castle. A giant oak round table, covered with maps of the Drayston lands, filled the center of the room. Lord Drayston sat in a chair across from him, his fingers steepled thoughtfully as he regarded his lieutenant.
The sergeant knew he should’ve taken the surgeon’s advice and headed for rest. Warmth filled the air, making him drowsy. Cinnamon, soaking in oils from small saucers hung around the chamber, spiced the air. Despite his drooping eyelids, owing his commander a report was his priority, and had to be dealt with before he indulged in luxuries like sleep. The scope of the oroc threat needed to be determined, and dealt with, before any other villages fell to such a tragedy. Even now the image of the burned shell of the village lingered behind his eyelids every time he blinked, the charred stench cloying in his nostrils.
Lord Drayston leaned over a map table, stroking his reddish beard while studying the border between his domain and the Rocmire. An ex-soldier himself, Calhein possessed a tactical mind Reynolds admired. While he now wore the forest-green robes of his office and his figure had grown stouter, he continued to don mail under his silks and kept a sword strapped to his waist at all times. Despite the white starting to pepper his hair, the castle’s lord still looked like a formidable warrior.
At last, Drayston harrumphed and straightened. “Sergeant, I must admit I’m having a difficult time with what you’ve told me. The past several centuries of our relationship with the orocs has been peaceful. Why would they attack now?”
Reynolds hitched his shoulders back. “Sir, every last man in my troop will avow all I’ve stated. We saw all the evidence we need to know the orocs were responsible. I don’t know why they would violate the treaties and attack us, but they did.”
Drayston waved a hand without looking at him. “Do be at ease, Sergeant. I can’t have you fainting from exhaustion while we figure this out.”
“Thank you, sir.” Reynolds relaxed his posture, but kept his eyes on the maps. He could envision the orocs tromping deeper into the forest with their captives, getting further from potential rescue with each moment. “We found numerous orocs weapons at the village, and the ones we encountered were prepared to battle. Earthspikes were all over, as well. Hundreds were impaled on them. If it wasn’t the orocs, then it was a human troop working very hard to make it look like an oroc attack. Which doesn’t track either. There’s no way a troop that large could’ve made it that far into our territory.”
Drayston rubbed at his brow, obviously frustrated. “It’s true that the use of both Tecton and Geist magic means that the attackers were either oroc or human. But which, Reynolds? Do you start to understand the surety with which I must present my findings to the king?”
“Sir, it must be the orocs, it’s the only thing that makes sense.”
Lord Drayston studied the maps. Reaching forward, he pulled the map of the Rocmire border closer. “And the fires? If you are so sure that it is orocs, how do you explain the fires? Why would they use a weapon which is taboo in their society?”
Reynolds shifted slightly, clasping his own wrist behind his back. “I cannot explain that, milord. My suspicion is that livestock escaped and knocked over a lantern, catching the village on fire. The sounds of the raid would have spooked the animals, and we didn’t find any living livestock. Even the dead were low in number, which leads me to believe that most of the animals simply fled the village.”
Drayston looked thoughtful. “So, you would have me believe …”
“That orocs attacked and slaughtered the villagers of Jaegen, sir. The only fact which doesn’t fit that is explainable. Does milord not agree with the facts of my report?”
“No, they are all good points. I believe you may be right. And I don’t doubt orocs attacked Jaegen and killed the villagers there.” Drayston’s shoulders slumped. “But it’s a question of whether the orocs are responsible or just these certain ones.”
“Sir? I’m not sure I follow.” Reynolds looked off into the air, just over Lord Drayston’s shoulder. He understood perfectly what his commander meant, but had learned as a young soldier that feigning ignorance was always the faster route to lead command to the right conclusion. Arguing just got a soldier disciplined.
Drayston sighed and planted meaty palms on the fine-grained wood of the table. “What we have here is an unprecedented opportunity. Should we choose, we could spark a whole new war between humans and orocs—but only if we decide to blame their species as a whole. But which do you think is more probable, Sergeant? That the orocs, a peaceable and secluded people, would disregard treaties and contracts that have stood inviolable for centuries? Or that what we’ve seen here is the independent—if shocking—act of a small band of hunters who were then eliminated by your men?”
“I don’t believe we caught up with the main force,” Reynolds said. “Five orocs could not have wiped out a settlement of over a thousand people.”
Drayston clasped hands behind his back. “That’s beside the point I’m making. What if this band acted without the sanction of their larger communities or leaders? What would you do then, Sergeant? No, don’t tell me. I can see it in your eyes. You would gather your men and ride into the Rocmire itself to repay the orocs in kind. You’d bring fire and blood to however many of their tree-bound settlements you could find.”
“My lord, this kind of attack demands a response. We can’t let them believe they’re able to get away with this.” Reynolds fists tightened behind his back.
Drayston twisted one of the rings on his fingers. “I fully intend to send a response—but not the sharp edge of a blade.”
Reynolds tried not to despair. “You mean to open diplomatic channels with them? Send a few written messages and requests for peaceful conversation after they invaded our land and slaughtered our people?” He tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice, but Lord Drayston’s eyes narrowed nonetheless.
“Yes,” he said, more forcefully. “Because, once again, we cannot prove this particular band of orocs is representative of their whole race. They may be rebels or criminals or a mere hunting party gone terribly wrong. Until we know for sure, we cannot be the ones to escalate this. The king would have my head if I provoked a war with the orocs.”
Reynolds briefly shut his eyes, envisioning the corpses littering the burning town. He kept his next words as measured as possible. “Sir, they took the children.”
Drayston glanced up from his maps, his brow creased. “What’s this?”
“When we surveyed the dead, we found no children among them. It’s my belief the orocs took them for some reason. I would request to lead a handful of men to scout the nearer reaches of the forest and see if we can find any trace of them or their captors.”
Drayston thumped a fist on the desk. “Think this through, Sergeant. Think! Don’t let your passion for revenge drive you. If they did take the children and the village youths didn’t happen to escape in the chaos—such as the one you found in the skirmish—what does that mean?” His brow furrowed. “It means they have prisoners. They have hostages, ones who could still be alive and who we could negotiate a safe return for. But only if we come at this in the right manner. I assure you, if I let you barge into their territ
ory, attacking any orocs on sight, you’d be condemning those children to death.”
“But sir …”
“Enough, Sergeant. You found one child only after he launched his own assault on the orocs. Who’s to say the other children haven’t proven just as resourceful and are simply hiding in fear?” He came over and clasped Reynolds’ shoulders. “I will send scouts into the surrounding area. I will send messages to other towns and villages to put them on the defense. I will report to my superiors in Aldamere and let them know of this development. I will send couriers to the orocs leaders, demanding an explanation.” He turned away. “But what I will not do is tolerate you going off on a mission of vengeance and threatening what little peace remains in the land. Is this understood?”
Reynolds stiffened his posture again and bowed. “Yes, my lord.”
Spinning on a heel, he marched out, heading for his quarters. His body ached for rest; yet as he passed the main surgery chambers, a strangled cry from within made sure he wouldn’t be able to sleep at all this night.
***
Chapter 14
Tetra Bicks
The room wavered in and out of sight. Tetra jerked his head from side to side, trying to focus. Had someone been there with him earlier, holding him down? Had a minute passed? Hours? Days? Sweat drenched him as he fought against his own body and the pain wracking it. It was difficult to think, difficult to pin down what was reality, what was nightmare.
As the world shifted around him and twisted his body with torment, his affinity responded in kind. It reached out like a third arm, groping for anything to hold onto, brushing over wood and stone and cloth nearby. Their composition opened to him, lightening and then increasing in density as his magic touched them.
A bed. He lay on a bed. Iron rivets bolted the legs together. Even as he sensed this, his affinity touched one and reduced its density by half. Metal squealed as the rivet snapped. The bed shifted beneath him, threatening to fling him to the floor. Tetra fought his affinity, pulling back as best he could. His grandfather’s last lecture floated through his mind, warning of the dangers of losing control, letting their affinities run wild.
Control it. He must control his power, or it could hurt those around him. Fighting his affinity wrenched at his injured back, spasming muscles clamped his spine. Shockwaves of searing agony tore through his body. He already lay in enough pain it didn’t matter whether he added a bit more to it.
He turned his affinity on himself, trying to anchor it within his muscles, bones, and organs. Letting it flow through him, increasing the density of his limbs at random, he manipulated his flesh to ease the pain.
His legs still refused to work, no matter how light or heavy he made them. Tears dripped down his cheek. Gritting his teeth, he turned his head to the side, refusing to acknowledge them. He felt hollow. The dark room still shifted under his gaze, he couldn’t tell where he was. Why had this happened? He gripped the soft linen bed sheets, squeezing his hands into fists. The room was so hot.…
Cutting through his disorientation, a presence at the back of his mind quivered and flared for a moment. Halli. His twin lived. Save her.… He didn’t know how he sensed her across such a distance, but he refused to believe it was just his imagination. If he felt her, perhaps she could sense him, too. Perhaps she could even touch him with her affinity despite their separation. She’d healed him before, soothed the pain and eased the mangled mess of his back. Could their sibling bond bridge such a gap?
He reached out to her through the link, grasping for her Geist talent. He knew it shouldn’t work this way. They were too far, and she needed to be consciously trying to heal him for her affinity to work. She couldn’t know his condition, couldn’t know how to respond. Yet he still tried.
He envisioned her standing behind him, hands on his back, providing constant, unwavering support as she always had. The cooling feeling of her healing washed over him, easing his agony. Just as their grandfather had tried to teach them, he set aside his natural resistance and opened himself to her affinity.
When the first chilly wave of power rippled through him, it shocked Tetra so much he almost lost the connection. The presence in his mind wavered and dimmed, but he locked onto it and held firm. He held on for dear life. Not only was it easing his pain, but it was a connection to Halli that let him know she was alive.
The twisted mass of pain in his back relaxed. His sister’s Geist affinity blunted the razor edge of torment and let his mind clear for the first time in what felt like an eternity. Fatigue also rushed in, taking the opportunity to force true rest on him. He let it take him, knowing he didn’t surrender, but gave himself the chance to recover his wits and wake stronger than ever. It was a chance to fight once more. Save her …
***
Chapter 15
Halli Bicks
Panic flooded Halli’s awareness as she struggled within the dream. It had to be a dream. Powerful Geists rampaged through Jaegen, manipulating—no, attacking—the spirits of the villagers. Some were strong enough to sever the binding of soul to body. Each time a Geist employed the taboo technique, a soul wailed in agonized fury as it departed the living plane.
Echoes screamed through the night, bypassing her ears and ripping through her mind. At the core of her affinity was spirit. The magic of healing. Her soul wailed in despair, shrieking at her to save them, ease their pain.
Tetra’s voice broke through the other tortured cries. Halli!
Her eyes shot open and nausea twisted her stomach. She sat up, regaining enough awareness of her surroundings to turn and vomit outside of the cage. When there was nothing left to expel, she pulled back her matted, mud-caked hair and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. Human waste reeked, souring the air around the cage.
She leaned against the side of the cage to catch her breath, keeping her eyes squeezed shut. The other girls would be waiting for her to talk to them, reassure them, but she wasn’t ready yet. She trailed her hand against the cage, relying on her tactile senses to distract her from the nausea.
Rather than metal or stone, vines and small trees had been woven together to form a living prison. Earthen pillars wove through the cage’s bars, strengthening the whole structure. She opened her eyes. Most of the other girls stared at her, expressions a mixture of worry and terror. Katerine lay nearby, unconscious. Laney crawled over to Halli from where she’d been sitting beside the prone girl.
Scores of children had been taken from Jaegen, though only a couple dozen were in Halli’s cage. There had to be other cages scattered throughout the clearing, and children’s crying echoed through the mighty trees. Halli fought the tears welling up in her own eyes. Many of her friends hadn’t made it. Already injured from the attack on the village, dozens had died on the trek to the oroc’s home. Halli herself had been overwhelmed during the attack and the journey. Dreamlike wisps of memory flooded her, brief visions around the pain she felt from all the death. Her affinity for Geist magic had completely overwhelmed her.
“Are you alright?” Laney asked. Soot blackened her face, making her bright eyes all the more stark a contrast. Halli could tell that she was fighting back tears, but she appeared physically unharmed.
“I think so,” Halli said, despite her throbbing head and lingering nausea. “What happened? I … I remember an attack. So much death. Then we were walking?”
“Orocs,” Laney whispered. “They attacked Jaegen.” Several of the other girls whimpered. “They killed … everyone else.” Her voice trembled. “I think we’re the only ones left.”
“Orocs?” Halli scrunched up her brow, gazing at their forested surroundings, dumbfounded. She had thought the orocs in her memory were just part of the delusions. Laney caught her attention again. Fear radiated off the younger girl. Reaching out, she wrapped her arms around Laney, pulling her into a tight embrace. The younger girl gratefully accepted the hug, sniffling quietly onto Halli’s shoulder.
Halli gazed at the other girls in the cage. Why would peace
ful healers like the orocs attack Jaegen? It had been generations since any conflict occurred between the humans of Promencia and the forest race. Why would have to wait, though. Her friends needed her to be together, to be strong right now. Patting Laney on the back, she released her friend. Laney sat back, wiping at her eyes with the sleeves of her dirty nightdress.
Laney reached back to a stone bowl fused into the ground. It was about five feet wide, occupying the center of the cage, and was filled with water. She retrieved a stone cup filled to the brim, which she presented to Halli. “Here. Drink.” Her hands trembled.
Halli’s hands shook as well as she took the cup. Her entire body was weary and exhausted. “What happened to Kat?”
Tears welled in Laney’s eyes. “I don’t know. She—I tried to help her.…” She looked at their friend. “I’m not a Geist.” She put her face in her hands and cried softly, the sobs shaking her thin frame. Halli reached out one hand, gently stroking her friend’s hair.
Holding the stone cup in her other hand, she drank the cool water, soothing her parched throat, and waited for Laney to compose herself. She felt disconnected from their circumstances, unable to summon the grief Laney demonstrated. Oddly, this realization scared her even more than their situation. She didn’t understand the extent of what happened in the village. Everyone killed? Massacred? If so, her parents were among the victims. And what of—
“Tetra?” she blurted. “Where are the boys?”
Laney wiped the tears from her cheeks, but more replaced them and she broke down again. Halli put down the stone cup and gently pulled her friend into another embrace. Laney sobbed against her chest. “Shhhh … it’s okay.” Halli whispered softly as she stroked her friend’s hair.
“They’re in another cage,” one of the other girls said. “There’s a whole ton of caves under the tree roots, each with cages.”
“Tetra … he.…” Laney’s sobs almost made her incoherent. “He wasn’t with them. I never saw him leave your house … he … it.…”