His Cure For Magic (Book 2)

by M. R. Forbes

  There were other ways to make someone talk.

  Clau had dismounted and approached the man. He had drawn his knife. He had cut off a finger.

  "Where are they?" he asked again. He pointed at the ground. "The ground is soft here, the grass too trampled for one pair of feet. It's Ames, isn't it? I spoke to your brother. He thought you were dead."

  One finger hadn't been enough. Pointing out that they knew he was aiding them had only increased his will. Had Clau miscalculated, or was he enjoying this game? He cut off another finger.

  "You're going to kill me anyway," Ames said after he stopped screaming. "Even if you didn't, I'm going to die tonight either way."

  "I can give you a swift end," Clau said. "I'm going to find them, even if I have to burn this entire forest down."

  Kelkin created a ball of fire in his hand for effect. Ames' eyes went wide at the sight of it.

  "Your lungs, your fingers. That is nothing compared to pain I can have my Mediator inflict on you, Ames. Your brother betrayed you. Davin is dead. Silas will be dead soon, too. Why suffer for nothing?"

  Ames looked up at the General. He licked his lips and let our a horrible, sad moan. "South."

  Clau looked back at his Mediators. "Wilem, that way. Talia, that way. Kelkin, with me." He backed away from Ames. "You made the right choice," he said.

  "Ustrina," Kelkin said. Ames was instantly engulfed in flame. His screams echoed throughout the wood.

  "Go," Clau said, mounting his stallion once more.

  Wilem held Strider's reins tight. He urged him forward into the wood, creating a ball of light in his hand as he did. He sent it ahead to help guide his way.

  His mind raced. The Liar was near, as was his Cursed companion. General Clau was counting on him to find them, and to be able to neutralize her.

  He wasn't sure that he could.

  There was something wrong with him. He knew it the moment he had called on his Curse. He felt the familiar tingle, he felt the power coursing through him, but it was different. It was weakened. Bringing forth the light had made his mind a little fuzzy and brought a slight throbbing to his temple, and creating a light was one of the first things they were taught because it was so simple. How could he stand up to someone who had overpowered an Overlord?

  Because I have to, that's how.

  He didn't have a choice. If he found them he would need to defeat her, or he would die. It was as simple as that. He took a deep breath and resolved himself. If he was weakened, he would have to push harder, even if it left him unconscious. Even if it killed him instead.

  He still didn't know how it had happened, though. He still didn't know what was wrong with him. When they had left Edgewater he had been fine. Up until a week ago he had been fine. His mind kept returning to the prior night at Waverly's. Kelkin carried the vials of blood everywhere; it was part of his duty to never let them out of his protection. He had opened the case while he was alone in the common room. Why?

  He couldn't believe the Mediator would poison him. It didn't make sense. What would he have to gain by getting him killed?

  Strider navigated the woods, following his light without hesitation. It darted around the trees ahead of them, showing them the landscape, as well as trampled brush and spread branches that suggested something had passed through not long ago.

  "Hold," he said, breaking through the brush and coming to a stop next to his light. They were standing next to a large boulder. The grass was clinging horizontally to the ground, and a piece of moss had been brushed away from the rock.

  Which way did they go?

  He moved the light along near the ground, shifting it with his hand, trying to determine which way they had gone. There were two heavy tracks, and one lighter one that headed directly south, leaving Wilem to try to figure out if they had split up.

  Kelkin couldn't be trying to kill him. He had spent the last five days with him, and he had been nothing but friendly, warm, and helpful. He had spent hours talking to him about what he would be expected to do once he was Clau's personal Mediator. He had also spent hours talking about how he was going to spend his years in semi-retirement, teaching the incoming Mediators and taking frequent sabbaticals to go fishing.

  Yet Kelkin was different around Clau. He was rigid and cold and condescending. It was like he were two completely separate people.

  "I don't know what to make of it Strider," he said to the horse, patting his neck. "I thought everything made sense. It clearly doesn't."

  "Wilem?"

  The voice in the darkness startled him. The hair raised up on the back of his neck, and his Curse began flowing through his body. It took him a few seconds to recover, and he guided the light towards the vague outline of a person who had come around the side of the boulder.

  It lit up her face, and his heart felt like it had stopped.

  "Eryn?"

  She was standing next to the rock, a shimmering blade in one hand, and a wand in the other. Her hair was windblown and matted, covered in dirt and leaves. Her eyes were narrow and fierce.

  "How many are there?" she asked.

  "Wh... what?"

  "Soldiers. How many?"

  He could sense her power growing around her. He blinked his eyes, his mind still trying to deny the truth he didn't want to see.

  He saw the white crystal at the tip of the wand begin to glow. His reflexes took over then, and the power he had instinctively summoned grew larger while he reached to his saddle to find his own weapon. He took hold and ripped it from its straps, just in time to get it in front of the blast of cold that flowed from the stone.

  Their magic crashed together. Wilem felt the pressure of it against his hands, and flexed his muscle to keep his weapon forward, using the ircidium to deflect the blow. She stopped it almost as quickly as it had come.

  Eryn was the Whore?

  His mind still hadn't completely accepted it. If that was true, Silas had to be nearby. It was his job to stop her. His duty.

  She was standing there, staring at him, her eyes as cold as death itself. She was waiting to see what he was going to do. She was testing him. He gathered his Curse and fed it to the green stone on his own wand, targeting the moss on the boulder next to her.

  It grew at an incredible rate, whipping up in thorny stalks that quivered and swung towards her. Their appearance took her by surprise, and she stifled a cry and fell behind the boulder, out of their path.

  Wilem slid off Strider's back, keeping the wand out in front of him. He wiped the blood from his eyes and circled past the rock, taking a wide turn around the thorny moss. His magic still tingled along every inch of his body. He didn't sense anything from her. Had she been knocked out?

  He had caught her off-guard with the vines. She caught him off-guard with her fist. It smashed him in the gut, knocking the wind out of him and sending him stumbling backwards. He lost the magic then, feeling it fade at the attack and taking all of his strength with it.

  She was on him before he could blink, hitting him in the gut again, and then twice in the face. He kept backpedaling, trying to escape the assault, but she was relentless. Two more punches to the face, and he tripped on a root or a rock or something and found himself on his back. She was on him in an instant,

  Her knees pinned his arms, and she put a knife against his throat. Her face was framed by the starlight, ferocious and desperate, bleeding from a dozen cuts, and from her eyes.

  "How many?" she asked again. She pressed the knife against his throat, tight enough to draw a line of blood.

  "Eryn... Eryn, wait." His voice was weak. He was almost embarrassed by how pathetic he sounded.

  "Wait? Silas is out there, and your men are after him. I won't ask you again."

  "Three," he said. His head was throbbing, and he was getting nauseous. He knew he shouldn't have told her, but what did it matter? She wasn't powerful enough to defeat Talia and Kelkin. "Two Mediators."

  The news seemed to wipe away all of her fury. "Two?" The knife
loosened from his throat.

  He wanted to take advantage of the distraction, to fight back, to try to push her off and run away. He moved his arms, but they felt like lead. He hadn't used that much power, and he felt completely drained.

  "Eryn, I have a strange question," he said.

  She looked down at him. Even with her hair a mess and her face cut open from the thorns, he still thought she was beautiful.

  Could I have killed her?

  He wasn't sure.

  She didn't say anything, but he saw the tears in her eyes. Not blood, water. She knew the Liar, Silas, was going to die. She knew she couldn't stop it.

  "What did you see at Waverly's? Did you see what Kelkin was doing with the vials?"

  Her whole body lost its rigidness. All of her muscles fell slack, and he felt her weight press harder against him. "He poured something in your ale," she said. "If he was trying to kill you, I wish he had succeeded."

  He felt like she had punched him again. Kelkin was trying to kill him, or at least get him killed. Why? Had Clau put him up to it, or was he acting on his own? He didn't understand.

  "Why do you hate the Empire so much?" he asked. He wanted a reason for something. He wanted to find sense in somebody.

  The anger returned to her eyes. "You hunt down Cursed. You kill their families and burn their villages if they don't come with you. You imprison innocent people and force them to a life of servitude in order to mine more ore than you could possibly ever use. You have the cure for magic, and instead of giving it away you hoard it for yourself and continue to inflict suffering on everyone around you." She watched his expression, and then laughed a laugh of disbelief. "You don't even know the pain he causes, do you?"

  He had seen what Clau had done to the farmer. He had seen the pain, but it was necessary to protect everyone. "The Cursed are dangerous. Without someone to teach them to control their power, they could hurt people-"

  "I never hurt anyone," she said, spitting the words out like a viper. "Not before his soldiers came for me. Not before they killed my entire family. That isn't half as bad as what they did to Silas. They lied to him and made him kill his own son."

  Wilem drew in a sharp breath. He didn't want to believe her, but every word brought him back to Kelkin and his betrayal. He had always thought he knew the truth, but he could feel it drifting away from him like a cloud.

  "He poisoned you," she said, laughing again. "I take it Kelkin isn't your father?"

  Wilem closed his eyes. He had been poisoned, he was sure of it. If the General's Mediator could do that to him, what was the General capable of? What was he capable of? He had asked Kelkin why they didn't refine the blood of all the Cursed, and he had given him an answer that was no answer at all. What was he hiding? What were they all hiding?

  "No. He's supposed to be my mentor. I'm to take his place as General Clau's personal Mediator. How did you know he poisoned me?"

  "You were too weak," she said. "I beat you too easily." She shifted her weight and rolled off him.

  "You aren't going to kill me?" he asked, pushing himself onto his elbows. He could see she was struggling to get to her feet.

  "I don't know. You've been lied to, just like we have. Now that you know it, you get to make that decision."

  He stared at her. There was no deception in her voice. There was no deception in her eyes. She was being honest with him at the same time he was questioning if anyone else ever had. He knew now why she and Silas had been able to bring so many to their side.

  If I'm going to put my faith in something, it will be in her.

  He made the decision in an instant, and in his heart he knew it was the right one.

  "What is this?" she asked him then, grabbing the waist of her breeches and pulling them down on the left side, leaving him close to a dangerously indecent view of her skin.

  He created a new light in his hand and pushed it to her. He could see the flesh now, gray and scaled. He had never seen anything like it. "I don't know."

  "It happens when I use too much," she said. "It will usually fade over time, but it has never hurt like this before. This has never happened to you?"

  "No."

  She pulled her pants back up and stared at him. "Poison isn't the only thing in the old chicken's box, is it? The vials of liquid? Its the cure for magic." She turned and started walking away from him.

  "Where are you going?" he asked.

  "I'm taking your horse, and I'm going to find Kelkin. He has the cure and I need it."

  Wilem pushed himself to his feet, fighting his own dizziness and nausea. "You can't beat him," he said. "He's too powerful."

  "Then maybe I'll die," she replied, "but I'll die fighting."

  "Wait. I'm coming with you. He tried to kill me. The least I can do is return the favor."

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Silas

  Silas ran through the woods, somehow keeping his feet clear of any snags. He had his sword drawn, and was doing his best to make as much noise as possible, smacking the flat against the trunks of trees and catching branches in his free hand so that when they snapped back they would rustle and shiver.

  If he was going to die tonight, he would be sure that Eryn survived to continue their work.

  Die? I am the Champion of Ares-Nor.

  He didn't know what it meant, but he found it a profound thought, a hidden memory that drove him forward and gave him strength. Somewhere in his past he had survived worse odds than this. Somewhere he had conquered the unconquerable.

  He could hear the horses behind him now. Three, if his ears were being true. They were moving faster than he was, and would be on him soon. He looked back and found the glow of the magic light, floating towards him between the trees. He knew he would have to fight, but he had to get as far away from Eryn as he could.

  He leaped over a waist-high boulder, coming down on the other side with unerring agility. The force of the landing rocked his shoulder and sent waves of pain along it, but he didn't pay it any mind. He could see the light was growing closer.

  They hadn't been wrong to trust Davin, but the King of Hearts had been wrong to trust the two brothers. What could have caused Lance to turn on them so suddenly, and with enough conviction to attack his own flesh and blood?

  There was no time left to wonder about it. There was no time left to run.

  The light caught up to him.

  He stopped and turned, holding the ircidium blade in his good hand and waiting. There would be Mediators, he was sure. They would send their power at him from a distance. They would be afraid to get too close.

  The light floated up over his head and hung there, a false star shining down on him. He could hear the heavy breathing of the horses nearby. A solitary figure rode through the brush, stopping close enough that he could feel the hot breath of the winded horse on his face.

  "Talon," General Clau said. He slipped off his mount and looked around. "Where is your companion?"

  Silas glared back at the General. He looked so familiar. "I know you."

  Clau smiled. "You don't understand, do you Talon? I'm not here to hurt you or Eryn Albion. I came here to help you both, before it's too late."

  "Help us?" He laughed.

  Clau stepped in front of the horse. "I know what he did to you, Talon. I know about Aren. He wanted me to find you, so that I could apologize on his behalf. He was trying to protect you, like he tries to protect all of us. He's trying to protect Eryn, too."

  "He took everything I cared about."

  "I know. He made a mistake in trusting Iolas. It was never supposed to go this far. Please, Talon. Come with me, and give him a chance to explain. We'll fix everything."

  "Can he bring Aren back? Can he bring Alyssa back? Can he bring the thousands he slaughtered at Elling back?"

  Clau's eyes darkened. "You caused that, Silas. Not him. You."

  "There was a time when honesty would have been all it took to pay for my loyalty," Silas said. "There is no honesty left in this E
mpire, if it ever existed at all. Why can't you see that?"

  He felt part of the fog in his mind lift. He knew the man in front of him. He was one of them, like Feng had been. They were connected.

  "The truth is dangerous," Clau replied. "These people that you think you're protecting, that you're helping. If they knew his motives-"

  "Do you know his motives?" Silas interrupted. "You defend them well enough, but do you even know the truth?"

  "I know what he has told me. I know that I am loyal. It is not for me, or for you to ask questions. We are hard men, Talon. You and I both. We make hard decisions and do hard things. We cause people to suffer, but that is our fate, that is our burden to bear for the good of the entire Empire. For every person we imprison in the mines there are a hundred who get to live their lives nearly ignorant of the Cursed and the danger they represent."

  "What danger?" Silas asked.

  "Come with me, Talon. I'll bring you back to Varrow, to the palace. Perhaps he will explain it to you himself."

  "Why not bring me to him in person?"

  "I cannot."

  "Why?"

  Clau stared at him, silent.

  "You don't know where he is, do you?" Silas asked. "You can talk to him through the stone, but even his General doesn't know where to find him."

  "It is for his protection."

  Silas laughed. "You're so sure what he's doing is right, yet he needs to hide himself to be safe. He has brainwashed you, brother, the same way he once brainwashed me. Draw your sword, if you would fight. Otherwise, let me go."

  Clau pulled his sword from its scabbard. It too was ircidium, but unlike the blade Silas carried there was a secondary blade connected to the pommel. It was ivory in color, long and curved like a fang or a claw. "I don't want to fight you, brother."

  Silas nodded. "In truth, I would rather not fight you either, but this is the path we've been set upon. I remember we were friends once. It isn't too late for you to open your eyes and see the truth. How many innocents have you slaughtered? How many more will die once I fall? When will it end?"

  "Never. It will never end. That too is the path we've been set upon."