Aerenden: The Zeiihbu Master (Ærenden)

by Kristen Taber

  “I am nothing but honorable,” Stilgan said. His voice held the hint of joy and Caide knew what would happen next. He had to finish the spell. Two lines remained.

  Stilgan moved out of sight. His cloak feathered Caide's arm as he passed and anxiety washed down Caide's spine. He tensed, waiting for attack, but none came. The ropes binding his wrists dropped to the ground. Caide tugged his hands away from the pole and discovered a new kind of soreness that had nothing to do with his injuries and everything to do with being in the same position for days. He held his hands up and winced at the purple welts circling his wrists. Stilgan dragged him away from the post, his bony fingers digging into Caide's arm.

  “Here,” Stilgan said, casting Caide into his father's arms. “I have no use for him anyway.”

  No sooner had Stilgan said the words than a smile returned to his face, spreading thin and long. Caide had seen it too many times to miss its meaning—Stilgan's power held a new victim.

  “Dat!” Caide screamed in warning, when Stilgan's red eyes flicked toward Meaghan, but did not get the chance to say any more before Meaghan drew one of her knives. In a move matching her speed, Faillen had an arrow readied in his bow.

  Caide expected her to attack, but she stood her ground, her eyes locked on his father.

  “Lower it,” she commanded, her voice tight and it took Caide a moment longer to realize his father's arrow had found a new target. He held Caide in his sight.

  “You don't want to hurt your son,” Meaghan continued, though Caide knew she would never be able to convince his father. He had fallen under Stilgan's control.

  Caide sunk to his knees. He stared down the chiseled stone head of his father's arrow, and terror ripped the last of his spell from his head. In his entire life, Caide had never seen his father miss a shot, and certainly never one this close. He shuffled in the dirt, trying to put more distance between them, but did no more than manage a few inches before his father let the arrow fly.

  It halted mid-air with a muted thump and then fell to the ground. Howling swelled around Caide, piercing the air with forlorn pain. Before he had a chance to search for its source, his father had another arrow in his hand.

  “Faillen!” Meaghan screamed. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Stilgan,” Caide forced past his swollen lips. Blood spurted from his mouth, splattering in front of him, but it also disappeared, lost to whatever had halted his father's arrow. Caide's eyes trailed to it, but he still saw nothing.

  He snapped his eyes back to his father. Faillen readied his weapon once more, but before he could fire, Meaghan launched at him. They hit the ground, both of them bouncing back to their feet before Caide could catch his breath.

  Meaghan raised her knife and then hesitated.

  Not hesitated, Caide realized. She could no longer move by her own will. Her arms had stiffened. Her eyes remained open, unblinking, though Caide could see terror in them. Stilgan controlled her.

  “Garon wants you,” the Mardróch growled at Meaghan's side. Faillen's arrow sunk into the ground by her right foot. “But you're mistaken to think he wants you alive.” A second arrow missed her left foot by less than an inch. “Your body will serve enough of a warning to the people. And death at the hand of your former allies, the Zeiihbuans, will make the warning so much louder. I'll save the arrow in your heart to display by the entrance to the castle.”

  Stilgan's laugh curdled Caide's blood. “I'll even release you from my power so you can truly cherish your death.”

  Meaghan's arms dropped as Faillen plucked one more arrow from his quiver, but before he could nock it, he flew backward. His feet dragged trenches in the dirt as he struggled against whatever pulled him. Caide could not make out its source. No one stood behind him. No one held him. He seemed to fight the air.

  Stilgan voiced his own confusion with a fierce roar. He pulled his sword from a sheath and ran after Faillen. Meaghan chased close behind.

  Caide focused on finishing the spell. His swollen lips made speech almost impossible, but he hoped his power understood what he meant even if he could not fully say the words.

  Heat surged from within him again, and then as Stilgan raised his sword to attack, Faillen stopped fighting.

  Meaghan caught up to them. Grabbing another knife from her belt, she crossed the two blades and jumped in front of Faillen, preventing Stilgan's sword from advancing any further.

  “Get to your son,” Meaghan yelled at Faillen, then cast a glare at him over her shoulder when he hesitated. “Now! Get him out of here.”

  Faillen sped toward Caide, but Caide barely registered his father's movements. Across the field, he saw his grandfather's guards battling with Mardróch and knew he had succeeded in making his power strong enough to free everyone. Even the villagers hurled stones at the army.

  Faillen yanked Caide to his feet. “Let's go,” he said.

  Caide shook his head and pulled out of his father's hold. He had to find a sword or a knife, anything to aid him in the fight. Stilgan's army outnumbered them and Caide refused to sit by while everyone else became victim to the monster who had held him captive over the past month. Meaghan still fought Stilgan, but it would not be long before the Mardróch leader enslaved the villagers once more. Caide did not know if he had the energy to free them all again, but he would continue to fight until he had nothing left.

  “Caide, come on.” His father gripped his shoulder. “You need a healer.”

  “I need to help,” Caide said, barely managing a whisper. “I can't—”

  “We have enough people. Look. You need to see.”

  His father stretched a hand out, pointing to a Mardróch at the edge of the clearing. He staggered backward, jerking from obvious blows, though no one attacked. Caide felt certain his sanity had finally broken. Panic and desperation saturated every fiber of him, until he trembled with the intensity of it, and then a person appeared, dissolving from nothing into solid form. The woman fought only with her hands and feet, but the Mardróch could not figure out how to fight against an attacker he could not see. He flailed his knife through the air, missing her as she eluded his blind strikes.

  Caide recognized her as the mother of one of his classmates. She sidestepped another strike from the Mardróch, waited until he moved beside her, and then snapped a kick to his knees, sending him to the ground. The Mardróch dropped his knife and she picked it up, launching it through the hole in his hood before he had the chance to realize what had happened.

  Beside Caide, a razor beast lay dead in a pool of dark blood, an arrow protruding from its side, and he realized the beast had saved his life.

  “I don't understand,” Caide said. “Why would—”

  “There's more,” Faillen said and gestured toward the edge of the village. A woman with blonde hair stepped out of her hiding place behind a tree. Faillen shot an arrow into the air. The woman grinned, then opened her mouth and spoke. Her voice seemed to come from everywhere at once, filling the air around them and the sky above. It boomed one word, “Attack!”

  The forest moved. Bark seemed to writhe and then men and women separated from their hiding places behind tree trunks and bushes, flowing from the woods into battle, their weapons ready. Arrows arced through the air. A fireball shot by close enough for Caide to feel its heat. It stopped mid-air, shivered, and then made a ninety degree turn to explode against a Mardróch who had been sneaking up on his father.

  Caide yanked his head around to look for the source of the fire. To his left, he saw only air at first. Then one of the hunters from his village shimmered into view, as did a tall man with a long beard.

  Cal winked at Caide before turning to charge across the field toward Meaghan. She still fought with Stilgan, but she seemed to be growing weaker. Her blows had slowed, her defenses seemed sluggish, and Caide understood her struggle.

  “We need to get you to the Healer,” his father said.

  “Not yet,” Caide managed to push past his swollen lips. “I have to
help Meaghan.”

  Faillen picked up his bow. He launched arrows at advancing Mardróch, protecting Caide as he uttered his spell once more. With a last, weak breath, he finished reciting, cast his power toward Meaghan, and then fell into the comforting embrace of his father's arms.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  IT BURNED. Stilgan's power felt like acid as it charged through her brain, stealing her free will. She tried to push her knife up and out to deflect another one of his blows, but her arm had turned to lead. His sword met her knife, knocking it to the ground and then continued on its course to her shoulder. Metal bit her flesh, and searing pain overwhelmed the burning in her mind.

  She fell to her knees, though the force of his blow had not driven her down. His power had folded her legs, just as it brought her head down in preparation to take his killing strike. She struggled against him, willed her mind to obey her commands, but her body refused to move.

  She heard Stilgan laugh and tried one more time to break his hold on her. Her pain increased with the effort. His laughter grew louder. Then the burning stopped. Stilgan grunted as he swung his sword and Meaghan dropped to the ground. She looked up, saw a brief flash of metal as the sword passed overhead, then jumped to her feet and ran.

  Stilgan's howl of agony chased her. Thane launched arrows at Stilgan from her left. Another tribe member did the same from her right. Neither of them stood close enough to offer any significant help. Their arrows bounced off the Mardróch's protective cloak. She scanned the area for Cal, but when she found him, she realized she was alone. He fought with a Mardróch across the field.

  She could hear Stilgan's footfalls gaining on her and she pushed her legs harder, ignoring the pain that shot through them from overexertion. She could not outrun the Mardróch. No one could. But even if she had the gift of magical speed, she would not have been able to use it long. His power crept through her mind again.

  Reaching under her cloak, she found the silver chain hanging around her neck. Her mother's amulet felt warm to Meaghan's touch, unforgiving to the softness of her flesh, and she clutched her fingers around it as she spun to face Stilgan.

  He skidded to a stop and raised his sword. Meaghan backed away. She did not have much time. The amulet would not help her fight him, but the Reaper Stone inside could steal his powers—if she could figure out how to use it.

  She had only used it once before, when Angus stole Nick's powers, but she had not done any more than hold the stone. It seemed to understand her need and performed the task she wanted. Unlike now.

  Stilgan's power increased, its burning almost unbearable, and she followed her instincts. She pushed her power through the stone and directed it at Stilgan.

  For a moment, she could not breathe. A flash of light blinded her, and a loud roar muted her hearing. Then both faded. Her senses returned, but the amulet felt heavier. She dropped it so it hung against her chest and then dared a glance at Stilgan's face.

  The Mardróch looked frozen. His arms remained unmoving over his head, his sword poised between his hands, and his eyes had grown wide with horror.

  Meaghan snatched her knife from her belt, intending to thrust it into the opening of his hood, but her movement seemed to revive him. He drove her knife away with a swift parry and then rebounded with another strike. She blocked him, and then his next attack and a fourth. Blow after blow, he drove her back toward the edge of the village. His anger made his strikes heavy and she knew he had figured out what she had done to him.

  “I've heard of your stone,” he hissed after she crossed her blades, holding his sword at bay for a moment. “And I also know your death will return my power.”

  “You can't be certain of that,” she said. “As far as we know, only I can release your power. If you kill me, it could be trapped in the stone forever.”

  A growl escaped Stilgan's lips and he used the weight of his sword to shove her away. She caught her balance in time to deflect another blow and then used his momentum to push him to the side. She ran past him, intending to lead him toward the forest where she had spotted Everel and a few of his men finishing off several Mardróch, but she did not get far before she heard another low growl close behind her. She spun around to deflect what she thought would be Stilgan's sword, but did not see him chasing her. Instead, he fought three razor beasts. He eliminated one of the cats with a swift strike, but the other two evaded his sword, using their sharp claws and barbed tails to lace gashes along his exposed skin.

  Meaghan did not wait to see the result of his fight. She turned and sped along the edge of the forest. She could see Cal in the distance, fighting another Mardróch and she focused on getting to him. In her haste, she did not hear the crackle of electricity sizzling in the air until it was too late. Blue flashed to her right and she turned, reaching for her knife, though she knew the effort would be useless. The Mardróch cast a bolt her way. A heartbeat before reaching her, a man dove in its path. The electricity grazed his shoulder, but instead of exploding him as she had seen it do to others in the past, it charred his skin and clothing black. The remainder of the electricity continued on its course and she ducked, avoiding its impact.

  The Mardróch bounced another bolt between his fingertips, but before he sent it in her direction, an arrow found the opening in his hood. He collapsed.

  Meaghan released the breath she did not know she had been holding and turned to scan the battlefield for her savior. She caught Faillen watching from a distance before he turned back to the fight.

  A groan came at her feet, drawing her attention to the man who had intercepted the Mardróch's bolt. She expected that he would have succumbed to his injury already, but another groan told her otherwise. She stared down at him. He lay on his stomach in the dirt, his shoulder no more than a mass of charred flesh and protruding bone, and she dropped to her knees to turn him over. When she saw his face, her eyes filled with tears.

  “Malaki,” she whispered. “What are you doing here?”

  “Protecting you,” he managed, though his voice sounded weak. He opened his eyes and her heart broke from the pain she saw in them. He exhaled a shuddering breath. “Did I succeed?”

  Bringing her fingers to his forehead, she brushed aside his bangs and forced a smile. “You did. You weren't supposed to be here. You were supposed to go home.”

  “I don't have a home anymore,” he told her and his eyes slipped closed again. “The only thing I have left is what I was born to be.”

  A Guardian, she realized, and reached for his hand. “You're a good Guardian, Malaki. I've been honored to have you with me.”

  “I'm loyal,” he whispered. “I followed you to Zeiihbu. I listened, but I didn't jeopardize the mission. I could have come here first, but,” he coughed and then groaned again. “I'm sorry.”

  “You have no reason to apologize.”

  “I do,” he pushed out, his voice no longer strong enough to be a whisper. She dropped her ear close to his mouth. “My father. I should have known. I should have stopped him.”

  “You couldn't have,” Meaghan said. His fingers tightened on her hand and she tried not to panic or to cry. “I'm going to get help. You need a Healer.”

  “No.” His grip became insistent and she obeyed it, remaining where she sat. “I don't want to die alone.”

  A tear streamed down her face, and she shook her head. “You're not going to—”

  “I am. It's time. Find the Shadow Guard, Meaghan. Find them and destroy them for what they did to my father.”

  “I will,” she promised, then closed her eyes when his grip on her hand relaxed. His fingers fell away. She lifted her head to look at him, but knew from the stillness on his face that he was already gone.

  Her tears fell and through them, she sought the Mardróch who had brought so much suffering into Malaki's life. Stilgan pierced the heart of his last attacking razor beast and then lifted his head in time to catch her rage. He grinned and she made another vow to Malaki, even though she knew he could not hear it.r />
  Stilgan would not live out this day.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  MEAGHAN STOOD and met Stilgan's eyes, conveying her intent in the heat of her gaze. He smiled and she realized he still felt invincible even without his powers. His impervious cloak protected his body from injury, leaving only his face and hands exposed. And as he had proven during this battle, wounds to his hands did little good. Meaghan had killed many Mardróch by throwing her knives through the opening in their hoods, but she doubted she would get close enough to try with Stilgan. His skill with a sword may not be the strongest she had ever seen, but his speed and strength would be enough to keep her at bay. She would tire long before he did, which meant she had to be smarter. She had to have a good plan.

  “They're here!”

  She heard the man's voice behind her, but she ignored it. It was not the guttural tone of a Mardróch attacker. It was the excitement of a villager who saw hope in his battle.

  “Who?” another voice called out to her left.

  “Caryn,” the first voice responded. “Look!”

  Meaghan kept her eyes focused on her target as she mapped out her plan. The edge of the village stood close to a cliff. She could see the distant shapes of trees and a river marking the valley below the cliff. It would be a long drop.

  “She must have a hundred people with her,” the second man said.

  “More,” the first man corrected, and Meaghan could hear the joy lifting his words. “She freed two of the villages. They've come to rescue Caide.”

  “This battle will be over in short order. Can you believe the Paecis with the pyrotechnic power? He and that Guardian are taking out Mardróch as fast as the monsters can attack. The leader will be next.”

  He will be, Meaghan decided, but not at Cal's hands.

  The sun turned the sky into liquid orange, and she refocused her attention on Stilgan, removing two knives from her belt before making her way across the field.