by JD Franx
Kael smiled even as his blood boiled at the sight of Grodin, Sythrnax’s stunted right-hand man. Memories from Arkum Zul returned, flooding his mind. He struggled to control the raging fury as Grodin ordered the two big men to string the prisoner up on the rack at the front of the encampment. After kicking him to his knees and securing him to the frame, one of the men grabbed the prisoner by the throat and wrenched his head back so that Grodin could talk to him face-to-face. Kael stared in disbelief, his anger forgotten the moment he saw their prisoner.
“Holy shit. I don’t believe it,” he gasped, cursing just loud enough for Kyah to hear.
“What is it, Kael?” Kyah whispered.
“That’s Giddeon Zirakus,” he said, as he exhaled on the ragged-edge of panic. “The prisoner they just tied to that rack. It’s him,” he panted, breathing hard, still stunned by the turn of events.
“The ArchWizard from Cethos? The one hunting you?”
Kael nodded and moved closer for a better look. Now positive beyond a shadow of a doubt that his dream had to be real, Kael’s mind whirled with confusion about what to do.
“Ember’s alive!” he whispered.
“Kael?” Kyah asked, as if not hearing him right.
“Never mind,” he said, focusing on the people and terrain around the camp.
The only man who would know where Ember might have been taken was less than forty feet from where he was hiding. He twitched with excitement at the thought of her being alive, but his stomach did a cold flip at the impossibility of getting her free.
Creeping into heavy cover closer to the edge of the hill overlooking the camp, Kael pushed the grass aside for a closer look at Giddeon. Kyah crawled up beside him as what he saw sunk in. Grabbing at his throat, Kael cringed at more memories, as he lightly touched the lumps under the scars at the front of his neck. The puncture holes from the Gyhurra collar had closed, healed by Kyah’s magic, but regenerating months-old scar tissue was beyond her abilities, even with magical strength boosted by the re-emergence of the Fae somewhere in Talohna.
At some time, and quite recently judging by Giddeon’s physical condition and the weeping wounds in his throat, his captors had managed to snap a Gyhurra collar around his neck. Kael shook his head at the cascade of memories that tore through his mind. Heaving with the effort of suppressing the caustic images, he grasped at his head and dug his fingers into his tangled and matted hair. Something dragged his memory back to Arkum Zul as he struggled not to scream.
“Kael? Kael, are you all right? Your skin is white like mountain snow,” Kyah murmured, touching the side of his face. Sweat soaked his face and dripped from his nose. His face flushed red. “Calm yourself, love. Here, let me help,” she whispered.
She leaned in closer, chanting. “Huggan Mein.” Clearly afraid to use her own healing spell, she recited the one Galen taught her instead. Resting her forehead against his, the words of her spell washed over him, easing his tormented mind. Kael felt the memories recede.
“I hate those god damned Gyhurra collars, it felt like I was back in Arkum Zul with one still around my own neck,” he cursed, shaking, as he rubbed his nose. Scratching the prickling sensation at the sides of his neck, he tried to shake off the horrific memories. It took a few minutes, but with Kyah’s spell and his own willpower, Kael reasserted control over his mind and pushed the flashbacks deep into his memories, where they belonged. “What the hell was that?” he mumbled.
“Not sure. Do DeathWizard’s have eidetic memory? Maybe your magic did that? It matters not. Come on, Kael, leave that fool to his fate. If you free him, he will kill you the moment after. Let us go.” Kael knew he should turn and run, leaving the ArchWizard to die. Kyah was right; Giddeon would continue hunting him, but the ArchWizard was in no condition to do it right now.
“I can’t leave him to die; it’d be like killing him myself.”
Kyah shook her head. “No, Kael. Leave him, he would not do the same for you.”
He looked at her, slightly puzzled. “But I’m not him...”
“Fair enough. I understand,” she said, frowning. “What do we do, love?”
Not wanting any more guilt eating away at his soul, Kael slid back amongst the thick branches and drooping green leaves surrounding Grodin’s camp and tried to come up with a plan to free the man who had been trying to kill him since the day he had arrived. Part of Kael couldn’t help but wonder how Talohna’s most powerful wizard ended up captured, collared, and tied to a torture rack in the middle of the Wildlands.
Chapter Four
“This world is smaller than you think. That is a saying from my world, from Earth. As I sit here writing this so many years after the events following our arrival in Talohna, I realize how true those words really are. One can be within reach of the one they love and still be countless miles away—a problem easily solved by Fae magic. You cannot begin to imagine how badly I wish I had known that back then. Perhaps things would have been so very different...”
Ember Symes, Journal entry,
logged and preserved by the TimeKeepers, 5027 PC
TAKTALA/KORDANU NEUTRAL CAMP
TWENTY-FIVE DAYS EARLIER
The next five days were almost identical to the first. Ember healed who she could during the nights when they were locked back in their cage. The princess and her lady-in-waiting were also brought to the cage every night. That soon came to a stop once the threat of the new slaves escaping lessened. The princess and her lady-in-waiting were eventually sent to stay with the village’s other slaves in order to help prepare for the move and long trek south. Their duties were to cook and serve the communal meals and clean up as well as other domestic tasks needed for the move. The sixth day was a hectic pace of tearing down huts and preparing the camp to disappear without a trace. Giddeon, Ember, and the others were granted no such freedoms. Watched closely from sun-up to sun-down, they were under close guard even when performing their duties for their owners.
With war on the horizon, the Taktala normally moved their camp every seven-to-ten days, making it harder for anyone to find them, but the need to move south had become more important after Giddeon and Ember’s group were captured. The new slaves were not released to help break down the camp and were only allowed out when the camp began the two-day march south-east to the new site. Their cage was the very last thing taken down and the first to be built on arrival at a new camp.
The chances for their escape began to look worse and worse. The Taktala never wavered in their vigilance. They had been at the new camp site for only a day when Saleece asked Ember to perform the spell that would blank her mind whenever her owner began to hurt her. The abuse and degradation had become too much for her to bear and Ember performed the spell with tears in her eyes from frustration at not being able to do more. Saleece returned the following night beaten and abused several times over. Her lack of response had outraged the female warrior who had bought her, adding to her suffering, but Saleece remembered none of it. Ember took away her pain and Yrlissa put her to sleep with the same Elvehn technique she had used on Ember many months ago. The ancient skill was unaffected by the Pogahna collar. When Giddeon asked about it, she explained that it was more of a hypnotic effect than magic. He seemed satisfied by her explanation.
Their situation seemed to become dire as the days went on. Ember wondered where Kael was every minute of every day and if he even knew she was alive. Positive her last DreamWalk spell had been successful, she remembered bringing Kael to their camp and begging for his help, constantly trying to make him believe that she was real. Something distracted him at the end before she was finished and eventually it broke him free of her control. She sensed afterwards that he had been drowning and using the spell’s failing power, she sparked his mind, hopefully waking him in time. Deep down she was afraid that it was merely another form of torture he was enduring. Water-boarding had been a popular method of interrogation and torture on Earth for decades before being outlawed. Such thoughts made her soul ache
for what he might be going through.
The Taktala stayed at the same location for ten days before scouts brought word that the Kordanu Tribe further south had begun their march north. The next day was spent tearing down and moving once more. It was a welcome respite for Ember and Giddeon’s group, knowing they would have the day to rest and recuperate. Tear-down meant no duties.
Full dark had just begun to settle over the forest after their first day of travel south when a rider approached the camp on horseback, using the tribes’ native tongue to hail for entry. Smoke from the fires ghosted over the camp and prevented the group of prisoners from seeing whether the warrior was alone. Giddeon knew very little of the language used by most of the tribes, but Ember seemed almost obsessed with learning what she could and was picking up the different inflections fast. Like the Ancients’ language back in Stillwater, she was picking it up at an amazing rate. It was common knowledge that the Fae had been able to speak every language of their time, adding to their repertoire of skills that had earned them the reputation as universal peacekeepers.
Ember hushed everyone as she tried to overhear what the commotion was all about. The rider was welcomed to the centre fire where Chief Vattis, accompanied by several warriors, soon joined him. Ember listened, her eyes shut tight with concentration. They were just within earshot.
“The rider seems to be from another tribe, the Koduuku, I think,” she whispered, as she glanced at Giddeon.
“The Kordanu?” he corrected.
“Yes. I think you’re right. He says the Taktala are invited to a war council and trade gathering with his tribe. Oh no, that can’t be good. Saleece’s owner is excited. Oh God, no. She wants to trade her. Four days... I think their camp is four days away and... and... Vattis accepted,” she said, turning to Giddeon, fear dancing in her eyes. “What does this mean?”
Giddeon shook his head. “It means that in four days any tribesman who is not happy with their slaves can sell them to the Kordanu tribe at the gathering. There is a damn good chance we’ll be separated once that happens. I’m sorry. I am so very sorry for what I have brought on you. I can’t get around this collar. It’s been altered by some kind of magic that I can’t figure out.”
“If we get separated, we’ll need a plan,” Kasik said.
“If possible, escape and head for Corynth. Don’t try to free anyone, get home and warn the Elder and Wizards’ Councils,” Giddeon offered. The others nodded their agreement and then tried to get some rest. Ember laid down and stared at the ArchWizard. Like a stubborn old mule, he continued trying to crack the secret magic fused into their collars.
The next day, the camp was torn down and ready to leave by dawn. It seemed the entire tribe was excited to be moving and to gather with another of the Wildland tribes.
“Why all the excitement, Giddeon?” Max asked.
“This is not a regular occurrence. These tribes often fight amongst themselves. The Kordanu tribe and Vattis’ are two of the few tribes who have many intermingled families. They’re close because of it, even during the war they fought as one tribe. I would imagine this will be the first time in years some of them have seen family members married into the other tribe.”
Max snorted at the ArchWizard’s answer. “Half-civil savages, who’d a thought,” he sneered, sarcasm riding heavy on every word.
It took four days to arrive at the Kordanu temporary camp. It was a long and boring walk for everyone. The Taktala set up a very basic and minimalist camp a quarter mile away from the Kordanu camp, for safety reasons. Though the two tribes were close, the possibility that problems arising from the slave sale could escalate into a full-blown tribal war was still there. It was a rare occurrence but it did happen. Both camps were nestled back in the heavy foliage of the forest even though they had to be torn down and the tribes on the move the day after the slave sales and war council had ended.
The slaves served the midday meal while the two chiefs and several elders from both tribes discussed the intrusion into their lands. Ember felt her stomach flip as she overheard the council’s decision. It came after only thirty minutes of talk.
“They’re sending small groups to notify all the tribes so that a gathering to vote on war can be set. The Kordanu chief and the few men with him are returning to their own camp. The slave sale is set for morning,” she whispered. “Nothing was mentioned about who would be offered for trade.”
Ember and the others were brought food and left under heavy guard. Never in her life had she ever felt more desperate. They had no idea who would be sold the next day or if any of them would. Chances were pretty good that they would be separated, making escape with the princess and then finding Kael almost impossible. If Kael knew she were in trouble, he would be there to help in an instant. It had been so long since she had seen him; it felt like a lifetime ago. Her heart and soul ached with the loss every single day, only getting worse with time. Still, she refused to surrender to despair, instead deciding to try and contact him through the dream spell one more time.
Closing her eyes, she tried to remember how she had done it last time and soon realized as she concentrated that it was not nearly as difficult. Within minutes she knew that he was alive, but something was definitely wrong. She could not get through to him.
Someone or something was blocking her. Knowing Kael had to be in serious trouble, her frustration took over and she instinctively pulled more magic into her dream. Her mind searched for the person or the magic blocking Kael from her, but every time she drifted closer to an answer she was pushed away. Powered by concern for him, Ember dragged more magic into her sleeping state, using it to clear the fog.
The forest around her materialized and for a moment she struggled with what was real and what was not. She could see a U-shaped camp in a small clearing by a slow-moving creek—it was clearly a tribal camp and Giddeon was tied to a rack just inside the camp’s entrance. Her mind struggled to make sense of what she was seeing. In reality, Giddeon lay at her side resting in the sun and heat of the humid forest.
Panicking, she glanced around the forest, not recognizing where she was, until she saw Kael below her. Calming slightly, she realized he was awake, not dreaming, but was suffering incredible pain as he held his head in his hands. A small, dark haired woman was with him, her forehead resting gently against his. Ember could hear the woman’s spell as she tried desperately to ease Kael’s suffering.
Using her DreamWalk magic, Ember floated closer to them. Halfway there, the dream spell wavered and a crack of power tore the forest apart, leaving a pulsating dark rift where Kael and the woman had been. A giant demon stepped from the tear and grabbed her with its massive, clawed fist. Panicking, Ember released all the dream spell’s magic into the demon. It roared with rage and tossed her aside, its claws ripping into her arm.
Ember woke with a scream, back in the cage at the Taktala camp, holding her arm. Everyone jumped and Yrlissa quickly slid to her side.
“Ember? What happened?” she asked, as Ember stared at her arm. It still throbbed. Yrlissa slowly lifted her friend’s hand. It peeled away with a sticky squelch and blood poured down her arm.
“Jesus, Yrlissa,” Ember snapped. “You said DreamWalks pose no physical danger in the real world.”
“They’re don’t, or shouldn’t. What happened? Tell me.” Yrlissa said, binding Ember’s wounds. “They’re not too deep. You’re lucky,” she quickly added. Giddeon settled in beside them on one side and Max rolled over, getting to his knees on the other.
“What is it?” Giddeon asked, as he rubbed his eyes in an attempt to banish the fugue of partial sleep induced by the warm sun. Ember explained in detail, what her DreamWalk showed her and how the demon attacked, but more importantly that she saw Giddeon tied to a rack in an unfamiliar location somewhere in the forest.
Yrlissa sighed, shaking her head. “The Dead Sisters must be using a demon and his magic to keep you out of Kael’s mind. It must have distorted what you saw.”
“Was it
real?” Ember asked. “Giddeon’s here with us.”
“It might be,” Yrlissa said frowning and shaking her head. “I’m not sure. The demon magic mixing with yours might have shifted your perception to the future, or perhaps the past...”
“Definitely not the past,” Giddeon offered.
“Perhaps the future then,” Yrlissa continued. “I’m sorry, Ember. I never thought the Dead Sisters would ever be capable of such impressive magic...”
“Impressive?” Ember barked. “That damn thing is keeping me from Kael and he’s here in the forest, or he will be at some point. He could be closer than ever. No damn demon is going to stop me...”
“But we don’t know when Kael will be here, or where,” Max pointed out.
Ember shook her head, clearing the cobwebs from the dream state. “I’ll find him, just give me some time.”
Yrlissa shook her head and glanced over at Giddeon. “Max is right, and with time, Ember can get past that demon and we can find Kael. But regardless, Giddeon, your council or the Inari are going to have to do something with these witches. They’re using power they shouldn’t have access to, let alone be able to actually use. They’re a serious threat, not taking into account if they get their hands-on Kael or another DeathWizard you missed or if another Black Sun happens.”
“For once we agree,” Giddeon said. “First chance I get, I’ll tell the Wizards’ Council. The Inari will have to hunt down the Dead Sisters, if enough of them can be called back. Most are hunting Braiga.” It earned him a nod from Yrlissa.
The evening stretched on to just before midnight. As Talohna’s three moons hit their apex, a shout pierced the air and echoed through the makeshift Taktala village.
“Someone has asked for permission to enter camp,” Ember said, kneeling.