by Justin Sloan
In either case, she was anxious to get this over with.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Larick stood tall at the sight of the charging men and women painted white, their robes flowing behind them. They wore spikes on their arms and heads, and he saw why they were called the white devils, though he wasn’t sure how appropriate that would’ve been in a more genetically diverse land. Up north in Roneland they all looked pretty much the same—pasty and scary with their wild hair and beards—so he figured it worked.
Instead of fighting physically he stole a page from the crazy false mystic inside, creating the image in the attackers’ minds that a massive fiery monster was fighting on Laird Summers’s side. Warriors who would have otherwise charged in without fear were peeling off left and right—some even pissing themselves—while the army went out to meet them.
The mixture of mages accompanying Laird Summers’ army were throwing fire and water spells, others using wind to divert arrows around allies to hit enemies unexpectedly.
The enemies were using a sort of wind magic themselves, though they had apparently adapted it to propel each other at their foes. At times they ran up to ledges and threw themselves off as the wind propelled them at their targets.
It was proving to be a deadly fighting style for both sides.
“We need to end this now!” Laird Summers said as he cut through an opponent. “The mages will be spent soon. Is there nothing more you can do?”
Larick considered the question, then quickly ducked behind the church as another of the white devils came at them. The laird quickly sidestepped so that the man rolled past them with a gust of wind to break his fall, but he came up screaming an insane war cry, two short blades held at the ready for the attack.
A soldier in the laird’s army engaged the attacker, and Larick did the only thing he could think of—he made their man appear invisible to the enemy.
For a moment the man blinked, confused, and then his head rolled off.
“Yes, more of that!” Laird Summers commanded, turning to rush into the fight.
“I can’t do it for all of them!” Larick shouted after him.
“Just those around me, then!” The laird charged, so Larick had no choice. He focused on the minds of the attackers around him, doing his best to make it so that they couldn’t see the nearby guards.
A moment of confusion followed, then the white devils charged the next-closest batch of visible warriors, only to be cut down by the laird and his guard.
The problem with this strategy was that it didn’t work on those attacking from far away, because Larick didn’t know who would come at them or from where.
He couldn’t cover them all…and this gave him an idea. Still focusing as best he could, he kicked open the church door.
“Get your scared ass out here and help me!” he shouted at the false mystic. No answer came. “I’m going to make this very easy to understand. We’re going after the goddess and we will kill Her, unless we fail here today. So you have a choice to make: see that as many of us as possible survive so that we can move on and take Her out, or hide in there while the army that means to kill your worst nightmare is cut down.
A long silence followed, during which Larick concentrated on assisting with the battle, and finally the false mystic came to at the doorway, eyes wide. “You don’t know…you don’t know what She’ll do to me. I can’t.”
“You stay in there, She lives and finds you. You help, She dies and you’re a free man. What’ll it be?”
It seemed unlikely that the man would break out of his torpor, but today was apparently their lucky day. With a shout of frustration the false mystic darted into the middle of the graveyard and held out his hands, and his eyes went white.
All around him the dead rose from their graves—or so it seemed, since Larick knew it was a mental projection. He wanted to see what it looked like, so he let himself.
The false mystic thrust his hands forward, and green and blue light flew out from them. The army of the dead charged forward, their terrible shrieks filling the air. Larick couldn’t help but smile—it was genius!
To add to the effect he cast a light fog upon the battlefield, and focused on the soldiers on his side to ensure they didn’t see the undead army. No use terrifying them, after all.
At this newfound courage from their mystic, the townsfolk charged into the fight on the side of Laird Summers and Larick.
It wasn’t long before they defeated the white devils, the only survivors on the run.
The false mystic stumbled back, eyes returning to a dull gray as he released his magic. He plopped to the ground next to the church and looked up at Larick, his eyes moist and, for the first time somewhat sane.
“Destroy Her,” he pleaded. “Her island is northeast of here. Head east until you reach the town level with the sea, then north. But promise me you’ll do it. Completely, utterly, annihilate Her.”
Then he laid back and closed his eyes.
“Is he sleeping?” Laird Summers asked.
Larick just shrugged, then turned to see the wild-haired town leader walking over.
“Norstam, was it?”
The man nodded, looking at them hesitantly. “We’re a simple folk, but an appreciative one as well. We don’t have many fighters, but those we have are yours.”
“Excuse me?” Laird Summers asked, totally caught off-guard.
“Those warriors have been causing us trouble for generations. We’ve lost numerous fighters to their terrorism, and yet you come here and not only fight them off but get this crazy bastard to help you somehow. Tells me all I need to know about you and the type of world you mean to build here. We’re in.”
“You’re…in.”
“We’re in.” Norstam stuck out his hand and they clasped forearms. “So, where to?”
Laird Summers considered this, then glanced at the boats. “We have to stick to the plan.”
“But Lady Mowain?” Larick asked.
“That’s where we deviate slightly.” He breathed deeply, as if working up to convincing himself. “I take one boat with some mages. Now that we know where the island is—or have an idea anyway, if this crazy person was telling the truth—we have to go for it. Either to help Alastar and Rhona, or to complete the job if they were unable to. If they never found Her location.”
“And the other two boats?”
“Our new friends will join you all,” the laird said with a nod toward Norstam, “and you’ll go south as planned. Find the king and his army, rid Roneland of all evil, and hope that we’ve done our part with the false goddess. Understood?”
Larick nodded, and couldn’t help but smile.
“What?”
“Nothing, it’s just a good plan.”
Laird Summers stood tall, chest puffed out. “Any plan that involves me riding off to my possible death probably sounds good to you, after the pain in the arse I’ve been.”
Larick laughed and shook his head. “You’ve been wonderful.” He went in for a hug, catching the laird by surprise. “Good luck.”
“You too,” the laird replied as they moved apart. He turned to brief his men, and Larick and Norstam turned to each other.
“Ready for some crazy fighting?” Larick asked
Norstam smirked and raised an eyebrow. “You have no idea.”
The two of them made their way back to the others. They would introduce the new fighters, then put the plan into action.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
After walking for about an hour, Alastar spotted the cave they had passed earlier. He glanced back at Rhona to be sure she was still committed to helping these people. At a nod from her, he moved forward to take point and be sure there wasn’t trouble out here.
He found a space behind some rocks and shrubbery, where he knelt and motioned the others forward. A peaceful lapping of waves against stone came from below, in stark contrast to the carnage and bloodshed he knew was about to ensue.
“What do you say, Storm Calle
r?” he asked Dustin. “Can you get us in there?”
The young man craned his neck, watching the waves for a moment. “I can get us in, but the moment I stop the waves crashing they’ll know something strange is going on.”
Alastar nodded, assessing the water at the cave’s entrance and wondering how anyone could possibly navigate that. He gripped his sword firmly, then gave Estair a loving smile.
She nodded in encouragement, readying her bow and arrow. She was running low on arrows, and the ones she did have were mostly recovered, meaning they were already bloodied, some slightly cracked and therefore not likely to fly as straight.
“You two follow us,” Donnon said to Kia and Lannis, “but not too close. We’ll keep you safe.”
Alastar couldn’t help but smile at Kia’s look of annoyance at that statement.
“We could burn them out!” Kia offered, perking up. “One good burst of flame and—”
“And the boat would be lost to the fire as well,” Donnon pointed out, ruffling her hair.
Dustin drew a deep breath. “Okay, here’s what I’m thinking. I’ll send a massive wave in there to cause as much chaos as I can, then I’ll draw all the water out, or as much of it as I can. I won’t be able to hold it forever, so you’ll have to move fast.”
Rhona turned to Abbey. “Can he really do that?”
Abbey grinned. “Dustin’s cocky, but he can back it up. If he says he can do it, he can do it.”
“Thanks for vote of confidence,” Dustin said. “I’ll have to wait out here and stormcall. Be ready when I let the water back in. You’ll have to bring the boat out here to pick me up, so don’t choose anything big. If three people can fit and it has a sail, I can get us home in it.”
“I like his confidence,” Alastar said. “Time to see if he can back it up.”
Dustin gave him a look, but rather than respond he plunged the tip of his staff into the sand and closed his eyes. It was only a moment before the sea responded.
Alastar watched with amazement as a huge wave swelled and rushed toward the mouth of the cave. It seemed to diminish as it reached the mouth, as if it were trying to squeeze through the thirty-by-thirty-foot opening.
A moment later the water rushed out, leaving behind a greatly diminished body of water entering the cave.
“Go,” Dustin shouted, his voice strained.
Abbey drew her sword. “You heard the man.”
Together, the two groups dashed toward the mouth of the cave, leaving Dustin out behind as he strained to hold back the water.
As they entered the cave, Alastar focused on his magic to make the sword glow, giving them an intimidation factor, and preparing his stamina and speed for the fight ahead.
They splashed through the knee-deep water into the cave, all of them aware that if Dustin’s magic failed they’d be swallowed in a torrent of seawater. Thankfully, they didn’t have far to go. The ships were docked not more than thirty yards inside the cave.
Abbey pointed out a skiff on the west end, docked a bit away from the three larger ships, shouting, “Hekla, there!”
The second woman nodded fiercely and angled toward the dingy.
“Look!” someone on the docks called.
Alastar smiled, ready for the fight. Some thirty or so men were charging to meet them, almost to the docks. Abbey stood beside him, her own sword at the ready, preparing for combat.
Rhona was the first to strike, however. She moved her hands in a circle and then pressed down before lifting, as if pulling something from the ground. A shadow under the docks seemed to come to life, and it reached up and grabbed the man closest to the edge, hauling him over and down into the shallow water.
Abbey charged forward, so Alastar did the same. He wasn’t about to let this stranger outdo him—a prince and paladin!
He charged alongside, watching her jump a crazy distance to land on the docks, and he pushed with his increased speed and stamina to arrive a split second later. The enemy were using weapons, not magic, he was pleased to see. His sword cut theirs in half, one after another, easily defeating those who got in his way.
Donnon arrived a moment later, slower but doing his job and making an excellent show of the fighting prowess of clansmen. An arrow shot through the air, taking down one of the enemy just as he was about to land a cut on Alastar. He turned to see Estair preparing another shot, and nodded his appreciation.
Hekla was showing her value as well, proving that her boasting outside on the beach had been true. She really could kick major arse.
“Alastar!” Rhona called, pointing to a few of the enemy who were retreating down a dark tunnel. He hadn’t even noticed until now.
He and Rhona charged after them, and he wondered if the shadows were growing darker ahead or if it was her doing. When one of the men screamed and fell into the shadow of the rock wall, half stuck in there, Alastar had his answer.
A flame shot out and at first it seemed to be an enemy sorcerer, but apparently Kia and Lannis had joined the pursuit.
“Stay out of it!” Alastar shouted, but Rhona gave him a scolding look.
“They might just save your life,” she remarked, then turned and used the shadows ahead to her advantage. Two more shrieks, and then three soldiers came running back in a terrified rage, but Alastar and Donnon met them and struck them down.
“Stop them!” a shout came from back by the ships, so he turned and ran that way to see if their new friends needed help.
As they came back into the main cavern someone shouted, “Clear!” and they saw that the enemy had been defeated.
He almost wished there were more to fight. His adrenalin was just starting to kick in.
Everyone stood there panting and beaming until the water came rushing back in with a whoosh.
“We need to go,” Abbey said to the other woman, who nodded. Turning to Rhona and staring for a long moment, Abbey finally said, “Thank you.”
“This whole Dark Society might impact your lands too,” Rhona stated. “You sure you don’t want to stay and help us take them down? We could use a fighter like you.”
Abbey shook her head. “I think some of my friends might still be alive. If there’s even a chance of that, I need to do everything I can to save them.”
“I understand. I'm pretty sure we can take them down. I mean, there's been nothing we haven't been able to handle yet. Take care of yourself.”
“You too,” Abbey said with a grin. “Never alone.”
“Never alone,” Rhona echoed. She held up a hand in a wave as the trio hopped into the skiff and started rowing toward the exit. For a moment, Rhona turned back and there was a hint of hope there—hope that their paths would one day cross again.
And then they were gone, just like that.
It gave her hope to know that there were others out there going through their own drama, fighting for justice.
“Let’s get that fairy going again,” she said, turning to Alastar. “Maybe—”
“No need,” Donnon interrupted, standing in the tunnel beyond. “Come see what Lannis found.”
She frowned, confused about what could be so important down here. Another boat? A stash of treasure?
Kia met them halfway and provided light with her flame, though Alastar could have done so with his magic as well.
All along the walls were carvings, many that resembled some circular shape with what looked like wings. Maybe a symbol of the Dark Society? A raised platform at the end was stained darker than the rest of the stone, and she hated to imagine that it was blood.
“Not that,” Donnon said, pointing farther into the darkness.
“It curves upward.” Lannis’ voice came from that direction in almost a hiss. “By the spirits, you all gotta see this.”
Rhona picked up the pace now, realizing that young boy was in there all by himself. Whatever this was, it was definitely part of the society’s transportation network, or part of their religious ceremonies. Likely both.
“This was whe
re the fairy was trying to take us,” Alastar noted. “Above, when we were following her. It wasn’t that we were at the wrong spot or the fairy was broken, it was that the location she was trying to reach was underground.”
“Maybe you could figure out how to get that thing talking,” Donnon stated with a hmph, “and we could avoid all this confusion.”
Alastar laughed nervously. “Aye, something for me to put my mind to.”
Lannis’ eyes reflected in the light and he was leaning against a ledge, motioning for them to crouch.
“Put out the light,” he whispered, and Kia did. They didn’t need it, since a warm glow was flooding over the ledge.
When their eyes had adjusted they saw more tunnels below. It was like a maze, and at one end there was clearly some sort of religious ritual happening that involved magic. Light and shadow mixed, swirling to the roof above and then spreading outward.
There was no doubt in Rhona’s mind—Lady Mowain was there.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The young man had been so sure of himself, so confident in Lady Mowain’s presence. And not poor at his duties, either. However, he would now serve a greater purpose. He would be the sacrifice the goddess required to see this land put right again.
Too much was falling apart. Too much had gone wrong.
As far as she knew, this was the only way. It might be the sacrifice or maybe only the thrill it gave her, but she knew that either way she would leave feeling better about herself, filled with energy or adrenalin or whatever it was. Therefore, it was necessary.
His life would have been worth it in the end.
All for the greater good. And she was that good.
With hands held high, she continued to let the light and darkness circle around her, spiraling over her body and weaving through her limbs, brushing up against her like a firm kiss, then pressing her body left and right, moving her so that she could barely stand still. When it left her, it surged into the young man.
His eyes went wide as he realized what was happening. Had he thought they were coming to this sacrificial lair to hide? That seemed likely. Too many fools didn’t understand that people of her power never needed to hide. It was always about the next step in this game of strategy, and right now that didn’t involve hiding. It was about leading her pursuers into a trap.