A moment later she felt Bhael bearing down on her. She shape-shifted into a brown hare and bounded away. All she needed was time. Bhael chased her, but the form she had selected was much quicker. She ran around the grove, randomly changing direction when he swiped at her. She jumped over a fallen tree and skittered across the grove.
When she reached the far side of the grove she realized she no longer heard Bhael chasing her. She stopped and looked back. He was standing near the circular pool, gasping for air. Ariel watched as the large cat shuddered and fell on its side.
She returned to her elven form. A tear rolled down her cheek. She held her left side; the pain in her ribs was excruciating. She staggered to Bhael and knelt beside him.
“Forgive me,” she said as she gently stroked the great cat’s head. She let her fingers drift through his coarse fur.
The cat’s form slowly changed and became that of an older, handsome elven male. This was how Ariel remembered him. He was her beloved friend and mentor. Bhael.
Ariel helped him roll over and she looked into his eyes. They were no longer black, empty orbs. Instead, they were a familiar dark green. Ariel bit her lip while she held back more tears.
“Ariel,” said Bhael. “I am glad it was you. My nightmare is finally…over. Thank you.”
“Lie still. I can try to remove the poison.”
“No. It is…too late for that. The poison has already reached…my heart. I…do not…have long. You must listen.”
Ariel nodded and forced a smile.
“The three children you…travel with…they are the key. They can…save our world.”
Ariel frowned. “I do not understand.”
“I was…the one who created the…werewolf…that attacked Alex. It was necessary…to remove him from…power. Chalon is…a weaker kingdom without him.”
He arched his back in pain. Ariel placed his head in her lap.
“A dark age comes. If the children cannot—” Bhael coughed and a trickle of blood ran from the corner of his mouth. Ariel wiped it away with her hand.
“What happened to you?” she asked softly.
“I was…attacked in the night. Red…bright red wings. Such evil…I have never felt before.”
He coughed up more blood. Ariel again wiped it away.
“I fought…tried to resist…but I was not strong enough…”
Ariel caressed his cheek as he spoke.
He took her hand in his. “You will need…to be stronger than I…was. Ariel…Ariel…You must…protect the balance…of life.”
His breathing became labored and raspy.
“We were to…cause fear and panic…draw…attention…”
“Who else, Bhael? Who was helping you?”
“Zorn.”
Ariel gasped. How could her beloved mentor be in league with the Shadowlord? Ariel shook her head. This made no sense to her.
Bhael fumbled at a small pouch around his neck but was unable to grasp it. Ariel steadied his hand and helped.
“She…fears…the children…you travel with…they are not…safe…here.”
“She?” asked Ariel.
Ariel saw the light fading from Bhael’s eyes, yet he struggled to hold on. He gave the pouch to Ariel. His lips moved, but no sound came from him. Ariel leaned closer. She heard him whisper under his breath, “Zorn…is…not the…true enemy…”
Bhael convulsed and a gurgling sound came from his throat as he exhaled and died. Ariel stared at him and squeezed his hand.
“No,” she said. “Don’t go…please don’t go.”
Ariel threw her head back and let out a loud wail. For a long while, she couldn’t stifle the screams that came out of her. Her heart ached and her body shook as she sobbed. A wave of guilt and grief washed over her.
“Forgive me,” she whispered.
She wrapped her arms around Bhael and held him for another hour. She kissed his forehead and remembered the lessons he had taught her. How he shared the wonderment of nature’s secrets with her. Each day was a new discovery.
Afterward, Ariel built a traditional funeral pyre for Bhael in the grove. She lit the pyre with a torch, and as the flames burned into the night, she felt a surge or a tingling deep inside. Though she was sad, Ariel somehow felt reinvigorated. Something of Bhael’s spirit had remained with her and strengthened her.
Dawn was approaching by the time the pyre had burned out. Ariel walked to the center of the grove and reached into a small pocket in her tunic. She opened the pouch and withdrew a single white seed. She sang an ancient druidic song of joy and rebirth as she planted the seed in the soil. When she finished, she cast the spell she had taught Jane, Ehlia talo.
She stood and as she did a small sprout pushed itself up from the dark soil. A sweet, light rain began to fall.
“I give you back your life. You shall once again be a beautiful forest. No longer shall you be filled with hate. You will know goodness again, and love. Grow strong and flourish, for you are blessed.”
Ariel opened the leather pouch Bhael had given her. It was a key made from white alabaster. A wizard’s key. She smiled.
“Geoff’s missing key,” she said.
Ariel walked to an area tangled with dense undergrowth. It obeyed and fell away when she waved her hand. Standing before her was a large, ornately carved archway.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The Werewolf
“You three should try to get some sleep,” said Ishara. “I will stand watch.”
“Well,” said Jane, “I suppose there’s nothing else we can do.”
“Wanna take turns with the watch?” asked Sawyer.
“No,” said Ishara. “I will be fine.”
Jane, Sawyer, and Geoff each located a cot and settled in for the night. Jane looked at the small, stone-ringed cooking pit in the center of the barracks.
“Should we start a fire? It’s already dark,” she said.
“Not tonight,” said Ishara. “Even with the windows shuttered the firelight will likely attract enemies. This is not a good place to be noticed.”
Jane glanced at the secured windows and barred door. This is a safe place for one night at least, she thought. She yawned, laid her head down, and closed her eyes. In her dreams she was lying on a comfortable bed. There was a warm, blue-white light in the room and someone was shaking her, trying to wake her up.
“Jane!” said Geoff. “Wake up! Something’s wrong!”
Jane’s eyes shot open. Her vision was blurred, but she knew she wasn’t dreaming anymore. She blinked and rubbed her eyes. How long had she slept? Who was shining that light in her face? The brightness of the light hurt her eyes so much she raised a hand to shield them.
“Wha…what’s happening?” she asked.
“It’s Sawyer,” cried Geoff. “The sword lit up again and he’s in some kind of trance!”
Still shielding her eyes, Jane looked in the direction of the bright light. Sawyer was sitting up in his cot, trembling. In his hands was the Stormblade, its blade glowing with the blue-white radiance. Sawyer’s eyes were open, but they were rolled up in his head. Jane gasped. The sight of Sawyer’s white eyes terrified her.
“We gotta do something! The last time the sword did this was at Silverthorne Manor,” yelled Geoff. “Just before the…oh my god…!”
“Just before what?” asked Ishara, who had stepped away from the window and nocked an arrow.
Jane stood up and looked around. She shuddered. Oh no. This isn’t good, she thought. We’re trapped in close quarters.
“Just before the werewolf attacked,” she said.
Ishara spun around and visually inspected the windows and door.
“If the werewolf attacks,” she said, shaking her head, “we have nowhere to run.�
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At that moment the sword in Sawyer’s hands ceased glowing. He looked around with glazed eyes, not seeming to recognize where he was.
“Sawyer,” said Jane as she approached him with her hand out in a reassuring manner. “Are you okay?”
Sawyer’s eyes returned to normal as he awakened from his trance and leapt out of his cot.
“It’s coming again! The werewolf really is close!” he shouted. “It knows we’re here. It can smell us.”
“What’re we gonna do?” asked Geoff, wringing his hands. “We barely escaped it last time because we jumped off that cliff at the waterfall.”
“Sawyer!” snapped Ishara. “Where is it? From which direction does it approach?”
“It followed our route,” said Sawyer, pointing in the direction from which they had come. “It’s here. I saw this building through its eyes!”
Jane’s skin tingled with goose bumps. Her heart raced.
“What are we going to do? Ariel isn’t here,” she said, her voice rising. “How are we-“
“Quiet!” demanded Ishara, holding her hand up.
The room fell silent. Jane looked at Sawyer and Geoff. Sawyer’s forehead was moist with sweat, and Geoff’s eyes were wide open and he was shaking. Ishara aimed her arrow at the door. As Jane watched, Ishara slowly moved her aim from the door to the first shuttered window, as though she was tracking something.
Jane heard movement outside. Something sniffed the air, then there was a low, guttural growl by the shuttered window.
“Ishara,” whispered Geoff in a near panic. “It’s at the wi-“
Pieces of wood exploded into the room as a large clawed hand burst through. It was covered with black fur.
Jane screamed as Ishara fired her arrow. It struck the hand and shattered. A vicious snarl came from the werewolf as it retracted its hand. Two more arrows hissed through the opening in the window, but with little affect. The werewolf ripped the remains of the shutter from the window and stuck its large head through.
Jane screamed again, but this time she was joined by Geoff, who had retreated to the far wall and shielded his face with his arms. Ishara fired another arrow. This one struck the werewolf between the eyes and shattered, as the previous ones had.
“Only magical weapons can kill it!” yelled Geoff. “That’s what Ariel said.”
“I have no such weapon! What I wouldn’t give for a silver-tipped arrow,” replied Ishara, firing another arrow. This one merely bounced off the werewolf’s throat.
The beast’s maw was glistening in the moonlight. Drool ran down the length of its fangs and puddled on the floor beneath the window.
Jane saw movement to her left. She was horrified at the sight of Sawyer running toward the werewolf.
“Sawyer! No! What are you doing?” she screamed. “Stay back!”
The werewolf was in the process of tearing much of the wall away so it could enter.
“It’ll rip you to bits!” Jane covered her mouth with both hands.
“Stormlord!” Ishara had no choice but to cease firing. “You are in my way!” She stepped further to the right, trying to find a clear shot.
Sawyer swung the Stormblade with both hands, striking the werewolf’s arm. It yelped and snarled, then turned its blazing yellow eyes on Sawyer. It snapped at him with bone-crunching ferocity, but bit only air. Sawyer had stepped back just in time, holding his sword up in the defensive stance that Ariel had shown him.
“It can’t fit through the window!” shouted Jane. “It’s going to tear through the wall!”
“Look! it’s bleeding!” yelled Geoff. “Sawyer hurt it!”
Jane looked at the black mass of fangs and claws that was trying to enter the room. Sawyer had wounded the beast. Its blood ran down the wall and mixed with the puddles of drool. Jane was overcome by the irony-smell of blood mixed with the musty odor of the werewolf. She coughed, reached into her pocket and retrieved her mage stone.
She held it overhead and said “Iluminara.” The entire barracks was engulfed in green light. The werewolf looked at her with hate-filled yellow orbs, causing her to scream and step back.
With the werewolf’s attention on Jane, Sawyer thrust the Stormblade at it, this time, stabbing it in the shoulder. The beast snarled and snapped at the sword, but Sawyer had again retreated to safety. The werewolf disappeared from the window. Jane was breathing heavy and she was still shaking.
“Is anyone harmed?” asked Ishara as she maneuvered to the center of the room. She looked at Sawyer.
“Be alert,” she said. “It’s still out there. Somewhere near.”
Jane was about to extinguish her mage stone when Geoff stopped her.
“No, don’t,” he said. “It distracted the werewolf. Can you make it glow really bright? Maybe try to blind it?”
“If you can, maybe we can escape,” said Ishara. “With the beast blinded, the Stormlord may have a chance to kill it.”
Jane looked at Sawyer. He was trembling and his eyes darted from the window to Ishara.
“Jane?” said Geoff. “Do you think you can do it?”
“What? I…I don’t know,” said Jane between breaths. “I don’t think so.”
“I’m pretty sure I can,” said Geoff. “Give it to me.”
He held out his hand and Jane dropped the mage stone into it. As soon as it touched his skin, the green radiance became white.
“Unbelievable…,” said Ishara as she watched the transaction.
There was a loud thump at the door. Ishara whirled and aimed another arrow in that direction.
“Listen carefully,” she whispered. “It must come through the door because of its size. When it does, the Stormlord will keep it at bay while the rest of us escape through the hole in the wall.”
“Wait,” said Jane. “We can’t leave Sawyer to fight the werewolf all alone.”
“Yeah,” said Sawyer. “I’m not that good with a sword. I’ve only just-“
The heavy wooden door, bar and all, smashed and shattered. Again a hail of wood and debris showered them as the werewolf loomed in the doorway.
Its hulking form completely blocked the doorway. It was still drooling and it flexed its clawed hands.
Ishara fired two arrows, each bouncing off the beast’s chest and breaking. It turned its head and swung at her.
“Now, Geoff!” Ishara called as she dove to the floor, avoiding a slash that would have surely killed her.
“Iluminara!” yelled Geoff and suddenly the room became brightly lit. The werewolf turned to Geoff when it heard him, catching the full effect of the light from the mage stone. It held up a clawed hand to cover its eyes and stepped backward.
“Strike him, Stormlord!” yelled Ishara. “Kill it!”
Sawyer hesitated, then stepped toward the doorway. Jane felt Ishara grab her arm and all but throw her through the opening in the wall that was once a window. She hit the hard ground and rolled to her feet.
“Wait!” Jane cried. “We can’t leave Sawyer and Geoff in there!”
“Come on!” said Ishara as she nocked two more arrows and ran toward the front of the barracks. Jane heard the werewolf snarling and growling. Oh no! she thought. Sawyer and Geoff are going to die! She followed Ishara around the corner and there was the werewolf. It was still blinded by Geoff’s light, but it was swinging its claws wildly. Each swing made a violent whoosh as it missed.
Sawyer advanced, but maintained his distance while he kept his sword raised. Geoff followed Sawyer out of the barracks, keeping the light from the mage stone focused on the werewolf’s eyes. Jane saw the wounds on its arm and shoulder. The fur on its right arm was moist with blood. Ishara fired her arrows. Each struck the beast in the chest and broke.
“Keep the light on him, Geoff!” called Sawyer.<
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Ishara nocked another arrow and fired. This one struck the werewolf on the side of its head, causing it snarl at her. Ishara kept firing arrows and Geoff did his best to keep the beast blinded. Sawyer maintained his defensive stance and stayed out of arm’s reach.
“What do we do now?” asked Sawyer, looking over his shoulder at Ishara.
“Strike! Attack the beast,” she said. “Time your attack and strike!”
“The hell with that!” said Sawyer, shaking his head. There was no way to approach the werewolf without being shredded by its claws.
Jane looked around for something to throw and noticed how overgrown the area was. Thick, thorny vines wrapped themselves around trees and climbed the walls of every building. The grass had not been maintained, and had grown almost two feet high. If the werewolf can be held in place, we might have a chance, she realized. What were the words to that spell? Bar-something envora.
Suddenly the beast lunged at Sawyer. It swung and missed, but Sawyer lost his balance and fell, dropping his sword again.
“Sawyer!” screamed Geoff as he tried to blind the werewolf.
Ishara moved to the beast’s right flank and fired arrow after arrow, each bounced off its hide or broke. The werewolf ignored Ishara’s arrows and leapt at Sawyer.
“Bar’athel envora!”
A mass of vines caught the werewolf in midair, suspending it just above Sawyer. It snapped at Sawyer, its massive snout mere inches away from his face.
Jane kept chanting Bar’athel envora over and over. She felt the willingness of the vines and plants to do her bidding. She realized as she chanted she had control over all nearby plants. She pictured the grass and trees also restraining the werewolf. Immediately the roots and limbs from the nearest trees wrapped and coiled around the beast. The thick grass entangled its legs, drastically slowing it.
Wizard's Key (The Darkwolf Saga Book 1) Page 27