Devin glanced over and found her on the ground, his disbelieving eyes filled with shock and apprehension. Her body was shivering out of control; she was unable to stop her teeth from chattering. The spell had chilled her so much her skin had turned a pale shade of blue.
“Elendria? What happened?” He charged around the cluster of ice statues and helped her to her feet. “Did you do this?” He glanced back at the frozen miners, and the accusation hung in the air like a raised dagger. “Have you killed all of them?”
A shrill scream sounded from inside the inn. She hobbled forward in an attempt to help Lysha, but a wave of dizziness overpowered her. Devin caught her from falling once again. She gasped at the shooting pain throbbing through her, and unable to hold herself up any longer, she sank to the ground.
“Stay here,” he said and raced back toward the inn, sword gripped lightly in his hand.
She knew she had to cast a spell of heat to warm herself. But when she tried, all she managed to do was produce spitting sparks from her fingertips. Each time she tried to cast a spell, a sharp pain exploded down her legs and arms as if the act of channeling magic was too much for her weakened body to bear. She was struck by the absolute realization that, if she didn’t make it inside to the warmth of the inn, she’d die from the cold.
Despite the pain and the trembling in her arms and legs, she scraped and crawled across the cold ground, trying to reach the inn’s steps before her joints locked up and she turned into a frozen statue like the miners.
As she inched her way past them, she couldn’t help but notice the eager expressions of anger and bloodlust on their grizzled faces. Their eyes, once livid and wrathful, glistened with glassy color, frozen in an eternal slumber.
She remembered how the young sorcerer, Relek, had melted the ice surrounding the older cultist, and the coughing and wheezing of life as the air had rushed into his lungs. Minutes had passed since she’d turned the miners into statues—dangerous minutes draining away their chances for life. Only now had she worried whether they deserved a chance to live or if she should leave them here to die. Considering how they’d treated her, and their malicious intentions towards Lysha and her, she was surprised she even cared.
But she did care, she realized, in an urgency pulsing through her heart. Each second she waited was a step closer to their deaths, and she wasn’t sure if she could deal with the weight of guilt suffocating her conscience.
In an unthinking outburst, ignoring the pain screaming through her body, she released a massive blast of flame from her fingertips. The white-hot fire melted the ice encasing the miners until they coughed and crumpled on the cold ground. She was warmed in an instant and was suddenly alert and filled with a vibrant, buzzing energy. The black stone pulsed in her hand in warning. She knew she’d gone far beyond her ability to control herself. After a moment spent staggering around, she slumped against the inn’s steps.
The world quickly glided away into a vast sea of emptiness.
The crystalline eyes of the men hacking and wheezing around her became liquid pools of disrupted light. The light rippled off into a fading, gray world of overlapping spheres. The spheres of each were the thoughts and minds of the men whose weakness and terror and morbid curiosity crippled their consciousness. These miners were feeble, pathetic men and nothing to be feared.
A kind of warm madness flooded over her. She released a strange cackle of delight.
She realized, in that middling world where she found herself, that if she stretched out using the knotty cords of her power, she could snake around their minds and seize them for her own. Their wills to obey hers and hers to dominate theirs. She could protect Lysha and the others and control these men.
The seductive lure to act on this impulse was so overwhelming, so utterly alluring that she gave in to the craving. She allowed the undulating cords of energy to curl and seduce and corrupt the minds of these miners. Her men now, the realization settled and gave root inside her, and she found the thought not unpleasant.
Even more than that, they were her thralls, for her to control with the merest look imbued with her desire.
Why should she kill them when they could be her slaves for her to rule?
She gave off an alien laugh, and the strange sound surprised her as it echoed off into that endless sea. She leaned back and floated off until all her cares and desires melted away into oblivion.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“There are too many of them,” said Dondran. The short, wiry man lay prone along the ridge, looking down at the village of Damak through a spyglass. “We should wait until we have a chance of finding the girl on her own.”
Relek took the spyglass from the rat-faced man and looked for himself. Damak was buzzing with people: stable boys grooming and handling horses, prostitutes talking up disinterested men, and bearded miners moping around looking depressed and aimless. If Dondran and Relek went into the town, they would definitely be recognized by Elendria or one of her friends. He wasn’t about to be exposed, not yet, but he wasn’t about to tell that to his companion.
“You don’t like to fight, Dondran? I wouldn’t have taken you for a wimp. It’s just a bunch of miners and whores. No one who’d offer us much resistance.”
“Lord Orensal told us to retrieve his daughter, not set a village on fire.”
The man did look like a rat, and he smelled far worse. Though the tracker was skilled at what he did, the man was about as ugly as they came. But his broad nose and angular face had a meanness to it that made Relek wary. He tempered his taunts and stayed cautious.
“As I recall, he didn’t specify the exact method. The important part is to succeed in bringing her back.” Relek leaned against a rock and covered his eyes with his hat. “But I suppose it won’t hurt to wait and see what the fools do. You take the first watch. Wake me when it turns dark.”
Dondran grunted in contempt, but Relek just ignored him and fell asleep.
A poke to his ribs startled him awake. “Get up, you lazy bum. It’s your turn.”
Relek opened an eye and scowled at the man. “Your face looks like something a cat loves to chew. Come to think of it, you look like my pet gerbil, Mogo.” The tracker did have long, greasy hair the same light brown color of his gerbil. Perhaps he was related.
But the taunt only earned him a small scoff. Dondran curled up and soon started to snore. Relek stood and stretched, wanting to move his body. The village wasn’t too far away, and he doubted if there were any magicians skilled enough to sense a spell of invisibility. He decided it was worth the risk. Let his companion slumber the night away. Relek would do a bit of spying down in the village.
Damak was a place few would ever want to visit, and Relek was sure many of its inhabitants wanted to leave. Dingy log and mud buildings, sagging roofs, and a stench that refused to go away: hogs, mud, and unwashed bodies. The idiot who designed the place failed to separate the farm from the village. It was all mixed in one awful mess.
He crept about, spell of invisibility shrouding his movements, and decided to see if he could find Elendria. The door to the old inn opened, and a rugged woodsman stepped out with a tough-looking young woman wearing a short-sword at her side. Relek leaned back against the building and watched.
“She’s still out?” said the young woman.
“Second night now and still out cold.” The man glanced up toward a window. “She’s resting, though. I think she’ll eventually come to.”
“Did you know she was a powerful witch when you took on the job?”
The woodsman spat, irritated. “Of course not. I just knew they were two young noble girls in need of sanctuary. And one doesn’t say no to Madam Lassengre. You know that. The question is, what the hell did she do to those stupid miners? They’re like a bunch of puppies fawning over their mother. I’ve never seen anything like it in my life.”
“It creeps me out. I know you’re supposed to protect her, but she’s a strange one. Why don’t you cut them loose?”
> “You know why. I swore a vow to take them up to the mountains. I’m no opportunist. I keep my word, Shells.”
Relek studied the two as they strolled off toward the lake. They were not to be underestimated. He’d encountered young rangers like them before, ones experienced in surviving the magical woods of the north. This was their home territory.
He felt uneasy here in the mountains. Only Dondran had real experience here as a tracker for the rangers of Criswall. It made Relek feel out of his league, playing catch up to the taunts and amusement of his older companion. But he didn’t mind. He’d be stronger and more knowledgeable in the long run. That’s how it was.
The door opened again, and Relek slipped inside after an old man tottered out, drunk. The inn was warm and gloomy, with only a few candles and the fire to illuminate the great room. He scooted over to an empty wall and scanned the place. His eyes landed on a girl he recognized from the King’s College. Wasn’t her name Lysha? She was far prettier than he’d remembered. She’d been there during the attack on the dormitories. But he didn’t recognize the boy and girl at Lysha’s side.
She stood alert suddenly and glanced around the room as if sensing something. Relek froze, worried if she’d noticed his entrance. She was a magician, though an inexperienced one. But still, he had to be careful.
The girl shook her head as if getting rid of some bad feeling. “Strange. I’m going to go up and check on her,” she said. “I felt something weird.”
“Do you want me to come?” said the boy. He was about her age and looked at her with adoring eyes.
“No, you stay here and keep Maggie company. I’ll only be a minute.” Lysha rose and headed toward the stairs.
Relek followed, maneuvering between bearded men in leather armor and servant girls dressed in colorful gowns. The stairs creaked as he went after her. He paused, cursed to himself, hoping Lysha hadn’t heard him. At the top, he spied her opening a door at the far end of the hallway, her amber eyes looking into the room.
Pulse racing, he gave chase, hoping to catch the door before she closed it. But she left it open and, inside, went to Elendria’s bedside, where the girl lay fast asleep. He peered in through the opening and watched as Lysha knelt at her friend’s side.
He was so close to his quarry. Should he end the chase now? She was right here. This hunt could be over, and Relek could return to Criswall a hero and earn Lord Orensal’s praise and reward.
Patience, he told himself. Don’t act on impulse. You need Dondran’s help. There are too many of them.
“Gods, Elendria, whatever has happened to you?” The pretty girl gently placed her petite hand on Elendria’s forehead. “At least, you don’t have a fever.”
Suddenly, the girl looked over directly where Relek stood. He held his breath, heart pounding. Could she see him? But she only tilted her head in confusion and returned her gaze to Elendria.
“This old inn is so strange. Is it haunted? Come back to us, Elendria. I need you. We need you. Otherwise, I feel we’ll be lost up here in the weird and wild northlands. Whatever happened to you with those miners?”
The girl pulled the covers higher over Elendria’s shoulders and stood. Relek decided he’d lingered here long enough. He would wait, he would be patient, and find the right opportunity to seize the girl and bring her back to Lord Orensal.
Now was not the right time. He turned and left the inn.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Elendria was startled by the sound of crows cawing outside, an unsettling way to wake, even for a witch. The curtains were drawn, but the light outside was still dim. As she shambled over and shoved aside the fabric, she glimpsed the menacing thunderclouds tumbling across the mountain sky, threatening rain or perhaps snow. She pried open the window and inhaled, savoring the scents of the storm racing down the towering cliff-face toward the lake.
The door creaked open, and she caught sight of Lysha’s soft eyes peering inside. At discovering her by the window, she went further inside and gave her a relieved smile.
“You’ve been sleeping for two days. I’m so glad to see you’ve finally woken.” Lysha stepped gingerly toward Elendria and placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Two days?”
She nodded and gave her a grin. “You’ve been such a slumber-bug. Are you feeling better now? You look worried… or maybe you’re only hungry. Why don’t you come down and eat something?”
In a flash, she remembered the incident with the miners and felt a sense of dread darken and overwhelm her mind. How could she face them? How could she deal with the consequences of what she’d done? She shook her head in self-loathing at the memory, shocked and confused as to why she acted like that toward those men.
No matter what crime they did or what they were planning to do to Lysha and her, she shouldn’t have acted like that. She almost let them freeze to death, caring little for their lives. She winced at remembering the feeling of gloating and gleeful domination at conquering the minds of those men. What was wrong with her? Did she enjoy making people suffer?
“Oh, gods, what have I done?” She put her hands to her head, trying to stop the memory. A wave of dizziness overwhelmed her. “What happened to those men?”
“Elendria! Are you okay?” She ran to her in a moment, helping her stand. “Are you talking about the miners?”
At her nod, Lysha continued. “They’ve apologized a hundred times over.”
“So, they’re alive? All of them?”
“Well, Devin killed their leader, Varl, and another named Marts. He tried to kidnap me, but Devin came and fought them off. But then I saw the results of what you did… you know, the thing outside with the miners.”
“What do you mean?” She feigned ignorance, wanting to hear the events from Lysha’s perspective.
“I don’t know what you remember, but Devin said you cast a spell and turned the whole angry pack of miners into ice statues. And while he was fighting the two inside, he heard the sound of an explosion outside. After he killed Varl and Marts, he came and found you unconscious.”
Lysha stopped, fear in her eyes as if afraid to continue.
“Don’t stop now, go on… tell me, what happened?”
“The miners… the mob of men was soaking wet. Elendria, I don’t know how to tell you this, but they were worshipping you; literally bowing down at your feet and worshipping you. It was the weirdest sight I’ve ever seen. What did you do to them? Don’t you remember anything?”
Elendria shook her head and pretended to look perplexed. “It’s all a haze in my mind,” she lied, and Lysha squeezed her shoulder in sympathetic understanding.
“Don’t push yourself. Let’s go down and eat. Maybe you’ll remember later. Right now, it doesn’t matter. What matters is you’re safe.”
She didn’t feel safe. She felt raw and exposed, like an untreated wound festering in the heat. But she nodded to Lysha and placed a disarming smile on her face. She told her that she wanted to freshen up and hobbled over and looked at herself in the mirror. She was unnerved by the sight of her puffy eyes and wild hair.
After she finished, they went downstairs, and Elendria found she was holding her breath in anticipation. What would the others think of her? She cringed at discovering the familiar faces of several miners sitting at tables eating breakfast. It was the expression on their faces that frightened her. They bore the same shining, fanatical countenance of the cultists and priests in Criswall. Their devout eyes beamed in religious fury as they clasped their hands in reverent prayer. She pursed her lips and refused to recognize them.
She sensed the eyes of the miners as she followed Lysha over to the table where Maggie was sitting with Devin and Shells. Their stares felt like an uncomfortable heat on a hot, muggy night. A trickle of sweat fell down Elendria’s back. She studied Maggie and was surprised to find her hair and face so clean and her clothes pressed and tidy.
“Well, you finally decided to wake up,” Maggie said, her voice witty and warm. “I’ve never seen s
omeone sleep for two days straight. If you slept like that on the street, you would’ve woken up robbed and naked, just like a carcass.”
“Maggie! I hardly think it’s appropriate to compare Elendria to a carcass.” Lysha gave the girl a disapproving scowl.
At first, Elendria figured the girl would rebel against Lysha’s rebuke, but instead, she only bowed her head and offered a well-spoken apology. Elendria was so stunned by the interaction that she stopped and gaped.
“What happened to you?” she asked, tilting her head in a query. “You’re so clean, and you have manners!”
The girl beamed with pride at Elendria’s observation. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“It’s good to see you’re feeling better,” said Devin, and Shells looked irritated by his declaration.
Elendria stumbled forward, embarrassed by her clumsy feet, and found her way to the edge of the bench. She was hardly better and felt dizzy when she walked.
“I’m afraid I’m not fully recovered yet,” she said, her voice apologetic.
“We can all see that.” Shells raised an eyebrow and smirked, causing Elendria to flush in embarrassment.
Devin frowned at the woman. “I’m sure once she eats some food, she’ll feel better.”
The table was stuffed with fried eggs, jumbo-sized sausages, and crispy, burned potatoes lathered in butter. Though she realized she was hungry—or likely in need of nutrition, her stomach revolted at the overpowering smell of the rich food.
“Don’t even think about eating that. You won’t be able to hold it down. Eat something light, first, to settle your stomach.” Lysha passed her a bowl of rice gruel filled with strips of chicken.
After a small bite, Elendria decided the dish most satisfying and ate another bowl, marveling at the savory taste.
Empire Awakening (Maledorian Chronicles Book 2) Page 11