“Right,” Hilt said. He called out to Qurl and the two went to cut down some thin trees at the side of the campsite.
Justan noticed Jhonate’s striking green eyes peering at him; assessing him, but he didn’t have time to talk to her. He closed his eyes and reached out to Fist. The connection came easily. He was only about a half day’s ride away.
Justan! The ogre stood from his seat in the classroom and, knowing he wouldn’t be able to contain his excitement, ran for the door despite his professor’s stern rebuke, Squirrel scurrying after him. Justan, I’ve been so worried. I’ve been trying to reach you every night. I knew you weren’t hurt, but it felt like you were so far away.
In a way I have been, Justan replied. He could hear Yntri clicking out orders in the background and knew he must be done stitching Aldie up. Look, Fist, we can talk about that later. We’re on the south side of Sampo on the road to the Mage School, and we have some injured men. One of their wounds is severe. We are heading towards you, but we need you to get some wizards on the way.
Fist immediately ran down the hall of the class building and out of the door into the center square. I’ll find your mother. She will get a group together.
Thank you. Please hurry, Justan said. I’ll see you soon. He ended the connection aware that he was going to have a lot of explaining to do when he spoke to Gwyrtha and Deathclaw that night. Hopefully the rogue horse had caught up with the raptoid by now and they were heading back to him.
He opened his eyes and saw Yntri standing in front of him. The elf had his hands on his hips and his head was tilted towards Justan expectantly.
Justan frowned at him. “Why didn’t you tell me I would be unconscious for so long?”
“This was not known,” Yntri clicked and Justan realized that he could understand him because he was still wearing the wrist band that the elf had given him. “I thought that a bonding wizard like you would commune faster. But your travel to her was slow. Your bonds resisted the distance.”
“It was strange,” Jhonate commented. “I looked at you through my staff. The long tendrils of white magic that usually touch everything around you were gone. All I saw were faint strands.”
Justan shook his head. “I had no idea. She showed me her whole history.”
“Then you succeeded,” Jhonate said, smiling, “And did you accept the burden?”
“I did,” he replied. “But we can talk about that later. Where are my boots? My feet are freezing!”
They packed up their camp and headed out, Justan and Sir Hilt carrying Aldie on a litter stretched out between them while Jhonate and Yntri scouted ahead. Jhexin, against his will, rode Stanza while Pox and Qurl took up the rear. The Roo-Tan men complained loudly, but Hilt barked them into silence. He had always planned a stop at the Mage School. The fact that he had wounded men just meant he was less diplomatic about making them go.
While they went, Hilt caught Justan up on more of the details of the days he had missed. When Justan hadn’t woken the morning of their second day in the forest, Yntri had calmed them all by telling them what Justan was doing. They had tied him down on Stanza’s back as they traveled, expecting him to wake at any moment.
Two days had gone by without any sign of the basilisk threat. Then on the fourth day Yntri had shot a basilisk that had disguised itself as a rotting stump. Hilt had sliced the beast in pieces before it could recover. That night, while Yntri was in one of his rare moments of sleep, they had been attacked by two of the creatures. Luckily, Qurl had seen the two piles of leaves moving and raised the alarm before it was too late. Hilt killed one of them but the other escaped.
The next night, two basilisks had attacked again. This time, one charged at them in the shape of a bear while the other had snuck up from the rear. This was the one that had snagged Justan’s hand before Jhonate stopped it. They killed one of those basilisks as well. Then they had escaped the forest and headed around the outskirts of Sampo knowing that six basilisks were dead.
“That was before you killed three more last night,” Justan said.
“Yep,” said Hilt as he carried the front end of the stretcher. “There is just one basilisk and the nightbeast remaining.”
“Do you think there’s a chance it’ll give up at this point?” Justan asked. “It obviously can’t win.”
“Can’t it? All it has to do is kill you.” Hilt shook his head. “If you foil a basilisk attack you’re usually fine because they are so expensive to hire. Whoever’s after you likely won’t be able to buy another one. But a nightbeast isn’t so easy to dissuade.
“Now we might get lucky and it might go back to Malaroo to recruit more basilisks. That would give us a bit of a reprieve. But sooner or later you’re probably going to have to face it.”
“Are you alright, Sir Edge?” asked Aldie. The student was lying with his head towards Hilt’s back and he was looking directly at Justan, Peace still clutched in his hands. “You look pained.”
Aldie wasn’t wrong. Justan’s wounded hand was on fire and his shoulders ached from carrying his end of the stretcher, but that wasn’t his problem. “I’m fine, Aldie. I was just thinking that this has to be the worst pre-wedding trip ever.”
Hilt laughed and Aldie managed a pale smile. “It would probably be better if you didn’t have to carry me while you were at it.”
“Not at all. That’s a highlight,” Justan replied. “I can look at you and think, ‘Well at least I didn’t have the hand of a two thousand year old elf in my guts this morning’.”
Justan, came Fist’s voice through the bond. We’re on our way. Mistress Sherl rounded up a bunch of healers. Probably more than you need, but we’re coming. And we’re moving quick!
Thanks, Justan said. I have so much to tell you. I look forward to seeing you soon.
Please, tell me what’s going on, the ogre asked and Justan sensed his impatience as he rode some sort of monstrous wagon. He had nothing to do but worry until he got there.
Alright, Justan said. The closer Fist came, the less concentration it required for them to communicate. He would be able to converse while walking. But say nothing of what I tell you to my mother. If she knew what was going on, she’d try to keep me from going to Malaroo.
It’s that bad? Fist asked and Justan felt guilt coming from him.
It’s not your fault, he replied. If you were here with me these things would still be happening. I have a monster of legend stalking me.
Justan caught Fist up on everything that had gone on and the ogre was both angered and terrified that someone would send something so deadly against Justan. By the time they were done talking, two hours had passed.
Justan’s wounded hand was throbbing and the energy the honstule had given him had left his limbs. Sir Hilt had switched positions with Qurl and Poz had offered to take Justan’s place, but he’d refused. How could he show weakness now when the others had carried him for four days? It wouldn’t be much longer now anyway. They had traveled over a third of the distance from Sampo to the school and Fist was very close.
“Stop!” shouted Jhonate, coming in from the trees at the side of the road. “Weaponmaster Yntri senses something.”
The elf appeared beside her with his bow drawn, his electrified arrow on the string and crackling with energy as his eyes darted about the area. Justan opened his senses, focusing on his sense of smell. The odor that Yntri had shown him in the forest filled his nostrils, a mix of dozens of animals all in one. A basilisk was near. And under that was another scent, a harsh chemical one. Was it trying to disguise its odor?
Justan didn’t understand it. The nightbeast only had one follower left. Why send it out now? Unless it wasn’t alone.
“Qurl, we need to set Aldie down,” Justan said and they eased the stretcher to the ground. “Yntri! Say something to me through the wristband.”
“Something is wrong,” the elf clicked, his face pinched with concern. “This odor is disruptive.”
Justan’s eyes settled on Jhonate. S
he frowned back at him.
“I am still me,” she said both aloud and through the ring.
Suddenly the ground between Jhonate and Justan trembled. Yntri fired his arrow at it. The tip barely penetrated the hardened ground. Sparks flew, but the electrical discharge had no effect on the trembling earth.
Cracks appeared as a large chunk of the road was lifted up from below. The basilisk, having taken the form of a thickly muscled kobald, threw the piece of road to the side, Yntri’s arrow still embedded in it. Justan realized that it had dug under the road from the side for the purpose of denying the elf his effective weapon.
The harsh scent grew stronger now, a horrible acidic smell that Justan couldn’t place. The basilisk’s reptilian kobald form came at Justan, shifting as it went, the stone-like scales on the kobald’s skin becoming sharpened spikes. For some reason, its entire body was glistening as if covered in water. Perhaps the ground had been wet.
Qurl and Jhonate rushed to meet it. The Roo-Tan warriors attacked with their Jharro staves. Jhonate sliced at the backs of its knees, while Qurl jabbed at its throat, the tip of his staff becoming pointed and spear-like. Neither attack pierced the basilisk’s hardened hide and it knocked Qurl aside, barreling at Justan.
Justan was ready for it. He had moved away from Aldie and stood with Rage held in both hands. The sword had converted Aldie’s pain and was brimming with power begging to be released. The world slowed.
Justan knew that if he blasted the basilisk in the chest, its pieces would explode outward, striking Jhonate and Yntri who were running behind it. So he swung the sword down and up in a heavy stroke, focusing the majority of the sword’s power in one up-thrust blast. The basilisk didn’t try to dodge, but powered towards him, its reptilian features changing to something more bird-like. Its eyes were bulbous and yellow and foam was bubbling at its mouth.
“Edge, wait!” Hilt shouted.
Justan’s upward swing caught the creature in the abdomen. The resulting blast of energy completely reversed the basilisk’s momentum, knocking it up and off of the ground. The basilisk’s hardened form rocketed into the air and Justan’s vision slowed down even further. He saw a spider web of cracks appear in the creature’s torso. Then the cracks filled with flame.
Justan’s eyes widened and he dove as the basilisk’s body ballooned outward. The beast was high in the air when it erupted into a violent explosion.
Justan felt the shockwave strike him mid-dive like a heavy weight on his back. What passed through his mind in the fraction of a second before he was slammed to the ground was Jhonate. She had been almost directly under the basilisk when it exploded.
There was a great thud. Justan’s torso struck the ground first and he felt his ribs crack just before his head hit.
Chapter Fourteen
The next thing Justan was aware of was a ringing in his ears. Wincing, he took mental stock of his situation. His vision was blurry but as he shifted his body, his limbs seemed to be intact. He breathed in and exhaled in pain, holding back a cough. It hurt to breathe. It was likely his ribs were fractured.
Justan! came Fist’s voice through the bond. We’re almost to you! We heard a big boom. Are you okay?
I . . . Justan pushed himself up. Smoke drifted through the air and he saw several pieces of flaming debris. Jhonate!
He looked around and shouted her name, but he couldn’t hear his own voice through the ringing. He sent his thoughts through the ring. Jhonate! He didn’t get a response. He couldn’t feel her thoughts.
He scrambled to his feet. The explosion had been bigger than he thought. Several trees were bent and broken, a few of them burning. Everyone was down. Hilt, Poz, even Stanza had collapsed. The poor horse’s head lolled, her eyes wild. Justan stumbled over to Jhonate’s still form. She had been closest to the blast, but surely his ring had protected her. She was lying face down on the ground and a large chunk of the basilisk was covering her right arm. Flames flickered along the back of her breastplate.
He fell to his knees at her side, forgetting his own pains. He patted out the fire. Jhonate! He pulled back her hair and saw a large wound in her scalp that extended from just above her right ear up and across her forehead. There was blood covering her face. So much blood. He had never seen her this injured before. What should he do? He didn’t dare move her. Hurry, Fist! Jhonate’s hurt!
Fist said something in response, but Justan didn’t listen. He reached through the ring as far as his small connection with her would allow. He got the sense of a faint heartbeat, but she was unconscious. He needed control of his magic. He needed to be able to heal.
Justan dove through his bond with the Scralag. Artemis! He came up against the chill wind of the magical blockage between him and the spirit of his great grandfather. Artemis. Please! Give me control of my magic. Please. If only for a brief moment I need it now. I need to heal the woman I love. Artemis!
GO AWAY. I AM NOT NEEDED! said the Scralag.
Yes you are! Please, Artemis! It is about saving her. Help me protect her! Justan saw something stir beyond the blockage and for a brief moment, he saw a pair of human eyes peering back at him.
Then Justan felt huge hands grabbing him, lifting him to his feet. He opened his eyes and saw Fist’s large kind face looking back at him, relieved that he was okay. The ogre was wearing black apprentice’s robes with blue and gold stripes on the sleeves. Squirrel sat on Fist’s shoulder wearing one of those embroidered vests Darlan had made for it.
“Fist, it’s Jhonate you need to worry about,” Justan said in a voice he still could not hear through the ringing.
He turned to show the ogre and saw his mother crouched over Jhonate, her brow taut with concentration as threads of black earth magic left her hands and entered Jhonate’s body. Darlan looked so strong in her wizard’s robes, fiery red with a black hem. This was what she belonged doing. Justan felt a great sense of relief. Jhonate would be okay. Surely his mother would save her.
Then Justan felt magic entering his body, not externally, but from within. He looked back at Fist and saw that the ogre was biting his lip, his eyes closed. Justan turned his mage sight inward and looked within himself. He saw the ogre’s magic coming in through the bond. Fist’s strength was in earth magic with lower levels of air and water. From the way Fist weaved the elements, it was obvious to Justan that he was still learning, but his magic worked. The cracks in Justan’s ribs closed.
I’m good at fixing bones, the ogre said proudly. He then turned his attention on Justan’s other wounds. The flesh stuff is kind of harder.
Justan felt like he should do something, perhaps give Fist instruction of some kind, but he couldn’t. He wasn’t thinking right. He watched numbly as Fist mended the tissues in his palm and tried his best to fix the multiple bruises in various other areas of Justan’s body.
It’s okay, Fist, he sent. Don’t worry about those.
It’s your ears that worry me, Fist said. There’s something in your head I can’t do anything about. The ogre yelled something that Justan couldn’t hear.
Justan turned his inner eye towards his head. He could see what Fist was talking about. There was damage from a concussion. That’s what was causing his hearing loss and likely his difficulty thinking. Strange how he could remember that when the rest of his thinking was so muddied. He was probably in shock, too.
He felt hands grasp either side of his head and watched as someone with a deft grasp of healing magic used minute threads of earth and water mixed with a surprising amount of air magic to soothe the swelling in his brain. Slowly, the ringing went away and Justan began to hear things. There was quite a bit of commotion, with people shouting out instructions. He heard one familiar deep booming voice. Charz was here.
“Is that better, Edge?” asked the man that had healed him and Justan’s eyes flew open. It was Professor Beehn. For some reason the wizard had grown a pencil thin mustache. “Yeah, but-.”
He looked back down at Jhonate. His smile widened as he sa
w her sitting up and talking to his mother. The wound in her head was healed, her skin unbroken.
Justan rushed in and nearly bowled her over in an embrace. He kissed her lips and cheek and forehead. “Jhonate, you’re okay. I was so worried. There was nothing I could do.”
She grabbed the back of his head and pulled him in for a kiss again. Her green eyes twinkled. “I love you, Justan. Everything was black. I could not move. I could not feel anything. But I heard you. I heard your voice.”
Justan smiled at her and looked around. Most of the fires had guttered out on their own and there were wizards and mages all around tending to the others. How had Fist brought so many? Almost as if in answer, Darlan spoke.
“And doesn’t your mother get a hug?” Darlan asked, her hands on her hips.
Justan stood and helped Jhonate to her feet, then hugged his mother. “Thank you, Mom. Thank you for coming. I missed you.”
“No kiss?” she asked, eyebrows raised. “I pull your future wife back from the brink of death and all I get is a hug?”
Justan laughed. “For that I’ll kiss you full on the lips,” he said and did just that.
Darlan beamed. “You haven’t let me kiss you on the lips since you were six years old.”
“You haven’t deserved it since then,” Justan said.
“What about me?” Fist asked, sounding disappointed.
Justan turned to look at the ogre. “You want a kiss on the lips?”
Fist frowned and Justan embraced him. “Thank you. Thank you for bringing help.”
“You’re my tribe,” the ogre said, squeezing him back, firmly but gentler than usual, not wanting to hurt Justan’s newly healed ribs.
Jhonate winced as she rotated her right arm. There was a tiny pop in her shoulder and she grunted as she started stretching out her neck muscles. “Was I really that far gone?”
“Well, you had a major contusion and a lot of blood loss. Both your eardrums were ruptured. Your right arm was dislocated and broken in several places,” Darlan said. “Let’s just say that if you lived, your recovery would have been quite difficult. As it was, I think that the only thing that saved you was your ring.”
Protector Of The Grove (Book 2) Page 21