What good was I, after all?
It had been four years, and Nire was nothing but stronger, as the recent, more direct and complete destruction of Trier had shown me—not to mention the queer vision of Bren, giving me what could only be the Shadowmaster’s message.
I’m coming for you, Jasmina Corey, Queen of Nothing.
Weakness. Mind and blood…
I would never defeat the Shadowmaster.
Yet, I had to. Somehow, I had to.
So great was my level of distraction that I almost failed to notice the chill ripple of the air. The dank smell choking away the clean breeze.
And then I heard the unearthly screams.
Shadows!
My heart squeezed in my chest. Nire’s minions were afoot in Salem.
Wheeling to meet the oncoming threat, I saw them. Twenty, maybe more. Dark blots against the moon’s pale light. They flew hard for me, even as I steadied my flight and readied a spell of light.
Cold air punched me like closed fists. The stench of rot and death clogged my senses. “Stop!” I screeched, but the foul creatures resisted me.
I tried again to cast a ceasing spell, but I couldn’t complete it. My sense of dread doubled. What arrogance had led me to believe I could perform a proper ceasing spell outside my body? Or were these beasts simply too strong for me?
Weakness, Jasmina. Weakness!
The lead Shadow snarled and wailed, bearing down on my position. My feathers and wings flexed, and bolts of light spread outward like a fan. The flare made my own eyes ache.
With a shriek, the first line of attackers fell away, only to circle and join the onrushing Shadows from behind.
Once more, the wind bit my face, my wings. My feathers turned so cold I could barely flex them.
By the Goddess. The beasts are stronger than they should be!
They had never battled me head-to-head like this. I couldn’t let them wound me, or everything would fall to ruin.
With all of my strength, I flew hard for Shallym, streaking across Sanctuary after Sanctuary, slicing openings and attempting to seal them behind me.
The Shadows followed!
How was that possible?
They couldn’t be strong enough to enter and exit the path on their own—could they?
But that meant Nire’s strength and understanding of the Path had grown beyond imagination. And I was leading the Shadowmaster’s minions straight toward L.O.S.T.
Holding my breath against fear and the hideous odor of the Shadows, I stopped in one of the oldest Sanctuaries, turned in midair, and fired again.
Light blazed over the dark jungle-like growth below. Shadows screamed and scattered. One veered crazily and struck my tail feathers.
I spiraled down, trying to flap, but failing. I picked up speed as I plummeted. The cold numbed me beyond measure. Behind me came Nire’s horrible rushing servants. And for all I knew, Nire as well.
Bren! Help me. The ground loomed as I fell. Help me!
***
Chapter Thirteen
My stomach lurched as I swung my sword. Rol laughed when I missed my target-his head. Frowning, I belched, then missed again.
Bren…
Jazz’s mental whisper poked at my brain like a migraine. I shoved it out and fought Rol twice as hard. A small tornado of dust swirled around us.
“Concentrate,” Rol barked.
Jazz was a twit. Turning me into a donkey, ignoring me for the past few days, and now trying to make nice by whispering in my head. An ass, I reminded myself. Here, in witchworld, I wasn’t just a donkey. They called me an ass.
“I’m not an ass,” I muttered as I fended off a rush from Rol. He didn’t seem to hear me talking to myself. Thank the universe for small favors.
The training yard felt hot. Too hot. And I kept seeing spots out of the corner of my eye. Dark, floaty ones. Part of me wanted to ask Rol what they were, and another part of me knew hallucinations were bad news in any culture. So I kept fighting, even though I wanted to puke.
Bren…
Jazz again. This time, more urgent. I felt my face blaze red. She was pissing me off.
You had your fun. I shot back. Now you can wait for me to have mine.
With a feint to the right, Rol disarmed me. My sword clattered as it hit the dirt. The blade gleamed in the afternoon sunlight, and I flinched as silver flares pierced my eyes like darts.
“Your mind is elsewhere,” Rol grumbled. “Thinking of the queen, perhaps?”
“In her dreams.” I rubbed my head and wished it would quit throbbing. “Must have been that…uh, whatever it was on that sandwich you made me for lunch.”
Rol frowned. “Squid. Baked, not broiled. My favorite.”
“Whatever. It didn’t agree with me.” I belched again, loud enough to puncture an eardrum.
“Mmm.” Rol’s oh-sure expression said it all. He didn’t think I was sick. He thought I was mooning over Jazz.
Half-lunging, half-falling, I managed to grab my sword and wheel on him.
Mooning. Over that witch. No way!
Our swords crossed with a clang. Sunlight from both blades seared my eyes, and that was it. I couldn’t take it. I don’t know if I threw up before I fell or after, but the result was the same.
Me, lying in the dirt, sword in one hand and recycled squid in the other.
Rol started laughing, but then his voice faded into the distance. I was so dizzy I couldn’t tell up from down.
Bren! For the sake of the Goddess, hear me!
Jazz’s voice broke through my defenses like bats swirling out of a cave. In seconds, my brain felt battered. Seized. She was everywhere inside my mind, all at once—and she was scared. In pain.
“No!” I scraped squid vomit off my palm and fought to stand. From somewhere, big hands helped me, then held me steady as I turned left, then right, squinting.
No Jazz.
But I felt her somewhere above me. In the sky.
And those things I had seen out of the corner of my eye…were they chasing her?
No way. She was totally messing with me. Again.
“Bren! Come awake! Bren!” Rol shouts came from miles away, or so it seemed. He shook me. I felt like a rickety puppet in his massive mitts.
For a second, I was above him, looking down. Out of my body.
Oh, man. Am I dying? What’s with this crazy stuff?
With a jerk, I fell back into myself. For two seconds, the world straightened back out. Rol’s fingers crushed my biceps, but otherwise, I was okay. Not dead. And then it started back.
“Jazz.” I squirmed in Rol’s grip. “Not again!”
Rol let me go and I stumbled back, keeping my sword up, all the while trying to block Jazz’s intrusion. Rol didn’t try to attack while I was battling Jazz. In fact, he dropped his sword and put his hands on the sides of his head. Like he was a radio trying to broadcast.
“She’s screwing with you, too, right?” I shook my head, then wished I hadn’t. A new wave of dizziness made me half-green. “What’s her problem?”
No answer.
“Where is she? Is something really wrong?” I lowered my blade. Rol continued his impersonation of a satellite dish. The hairs on my neck prickled. “What is it?”
Light rose from the top of Rol’s head and divided into long lines. Arrows. With a roar, he fired them into the sky.
“What are you doing?” I ran to him as a new bunch of arrows formed.
Rol kept his eyes closed and his hands attached to the sides of his head. “I am helping the queen.” His voice was tense. Serious. “She is under attack.”
Those shadow-things. They were chasing her. Fear for Jazz shot through me, and I squeezed the hilt of my sword. “Let’s go.”
“Cannot cross onto the Path without her,” Rol murmured. “Cannot reach the other Sanctuaries.”
“Well, we have to try, don’t we?” I punched him in his shoulder and winced when my fingers hurt.
“Concentrate,” he told
me. “Give her your energy. Not too much, not enough to harm you.” More light arrows fired from his head.
“You’re nuts, man. I don’t know how to do that.” I whirled around, opening my mind to Jazz and wishing I hadn’t closed her out when all this started.
Where are you? I’ll come if you tell me.
Help me! Jazz’s plea was immediate and so strong it almost drove me to my knees. The planet spun funny, her emotions were so strong. Like a tide, nearly separating my thoughts from my body again. For the briefest moment, I realized I could do it. I could leave my body, if I wanted to. If I tried.
Magic.
No!
I rammed my sword into its sheath and took off across the training yard. One way or another, I would find Jazz. Something was after her. Whatever it was, it would be sorry because I was going to kick its teeth through its ears.
Bren!
Jazz’s voice drew me like a magnet. I stumbled and nearly fell—and then a powerful arm wrapped around my waist and snatched me right off my feet. I didn’t yell or fight as I dangled, because I recognized the grip.
It was Rol. On a broom-branch.
As we flew higher off the ground, he held me tight in one arm, like I was a toddler or a sack of dog food. After one glance down, my head spun and I refused to look back at the earth racing beneath my dangling feet.
Instinctively, I tried to grab at my sword, but Rol’s voice rose over the rushing wind as we flew. “Your blade will do us no good, boy. Jasmina is not in Shallym. I’m taking us to the barrier, next to the Path. From there, we will share our energy.”
“I don’t know how!” Frustration held me tighter than Rol. I wanted to punch him, just to have something to punch.
All I could think about was getting to Jazz before…
Before what? Before it was too late? Before something hurt her?
Why should I care? But I did. More than I wanted to. The thought made my gut ache.
In seconds, we reached a shimmer in the air, and Rol took us down, down, to a patch of grass in a thicket of trees. The branch he had ridden was flaming like mad. He doused the fire with a flick of his wrist and chucked the broom out of sight.
I started to run toward the shimmer. I knew Jazz had to be on the other side, but Rol snagged my arm and held me back. “You cannot pass through the barrier and enter the Path without the queen.”
“Then how can we help her?” I shouted, flinging off his grasp.
“Concentrate.” He grabbed the sides of his head again. “Imagine your power, your strength, flowing out of you like a river. Imagine it rushing toward Jasmina.”
The urge to hit him nearly overtook me this time. There was no way I could do that. And no way it would work. I had a sword. This magic crap—I’d never understand. Why couldn’t I get to Jazz and use the blade?
Biting back a howl of complete rage, I put my hands to the side of my head.
River. River. Make my strength a river.
Nothing happened. Rol was firing arrows off his head like some sort of weird human bow, and I couldn’t do a thing. Doubling my effort, I really tried hard to imagine the river thing. I did. And it wasn’t working.
By the Goddess!
Jazz’s mental shout ripped into my soul. I had never felt so helpless. So useless. When the dizziness hit me, I welcomed it and wished it would knock me out so I didn’t have to feel what a huge failure I was.
“Screw this” I staggered and drew my sword for no good reason. Everything was spinning and spinning.
Roaring like some crazy lion, I bashed into the barrier and felt it give. I fell forward, into what felt like humming pudding, through screaming shadows and sickly deathlike smells—and then out, into moonlit darkness.
I stumbled to my hands and knees, and lived only because I was bending over. A huge bird swept over me, screeching like a dinosaur from a bad science-fiction movie.
Because it was a dinosaur. A pterodactyl, to be exact. The second I looked up, I recognized the prehistoric bird’s outline against the huge moon and unbelievably bright stars. It flapped a few times and disappeared from view.
Before I could react, I heard more wings, different wings, and screaming. A girl.
Jazz!
She was close. Her essence hovered like light perfume on the breeze—and then something else screamed.
Something inhuman and evil. Whatever it was smelled like a sewer with an attitude problem.
Still fighting major dizziness, I lurched toward the nerve-grating sounds and smells. On instinct, I raised my sword and my skin glowed with a faint silver sheen.
Silvery light arched into the darkness.
The inhuman things screamed again, and they sounded—and smelled-closer. I coughed. Fear poked through my chest, cold and harsh, but I ignored it.
Something flapped past me so hard it spun me around.
I swung my blade in its wake. Light blazed, showing me a bat-thing, only bigger and uglier. This was no prehistoric creature, unless the history books missed a breed. This was unnatural.
This was a monster.
Golden arrows suddenly rained down from the sky, directly at the monster.
“Rol!” I yelled, realizing what was happening. The big guy was still sending light beams out of his head, trying to help.
More wings flapped. I lashed out with the sword, connecting with something soft, yet powerful. A shriek filled the night.
Then more flapping, and more golden arrows hit their mark. A flock of smelly, cold things pushed past me as they fled like big bat-chickens. I felt like I was in a hurricane without rain. And then I fell.
“Jazz! Where are you?” I kicked against the ground, trying to orient myself. “Say something!”
Nasty dirt filled my mouth, and I hacked it out. Using every bit of strength I could muster, I stood up again.
My sword quit glowing, and night closed around me. Even the moon was blocked by clouds.
I’m down. Jazz spoke in my mind even as I saw a ghostly image of her run—no, drift—out of the nearby skyscraper trees. On the ground, in spirit form. Do not touch me. You aren’t strong enough to survive it.
“What do I do?” I stupidly swung the sword and wished I had something to fight. At least I was good at that. “I came to save you!”
And, as usual, I will have to save you instead. Go back to Shadowbridge. It was foolish of you to come here. Her voice in my head sounded snotty as usual. And you have risked Shallym by leaving the Path open. Hurry through so that I might seal it before Shadows find the breach and discover our last free Sanctuary.
“Hello?” I shook my blade at her. “‘Thank you, Bren’? ‘I’m so glad you showed up and saved me, Bren’?”
I thought you and Rol would send me energy. Jazz’s you’re-such-a-screw-up tone turned up to full blast. She reminded me of my dad. Please, stop jabbering and get out of here! The risk is too great. Go back through the barrier.
My teeth ground together. “I don’t know how to get back. I don’t even know how I got here.”
I felt Jazz sigh, and she seemed stronger. As she approached, her fresh, clean scent cleared the air, and the darkness seemed brighter.
Relief competed with an urge to slice her ghost body in two.
She raised her hand, still ten feet or more from me, and I felt a little push. Move. Straight back.
I started to say something sarcastic, but apparently, I didn’t move fast enough for her. She muttered something about wind and power, and the air suddenly howled around me.
No use fighting. It was stronger than ten bouncers with bad B.O.
“Thanks! Thanks a lot!” Spinning and pin wheeling, I tumbled through a gash in the barrier. Shadows screamed around me and the sick odor filled my nose and mouth, and then I stumbled out the other side.
Behind me I heard Jazz mumble, “I’ll see you at Shadowbridge.” Then the stink vanished, along with the strange shrieks from the bizarre darkness.
I hit the ground, face down, right on top of
Rol’s smelly feet.
Perfect.
Just perfect.
***
Chapter Fourteen
As I flew in my falcon form, back from the darkness of the ancient Sanctuary and into the daylight of Shallym, my heart thumped with the knowledge that Bren had managed to breach the Path.
No one save my father, myself, and Nire had ever been able to accomplish that. Moreover, Bren had survived two more doses of the Shadowmaster’s evil magic.
He didn’t even seem fazed.
That Bren had done these things by accident filled me with a mixture of hope and fear. What did it mean? How could he have accomplished so much with so little training?
The prophecy.
Bren was the Shadowalker.
In short order, my ears picked up the sound of splashes from the rain barrel by the smithy and Bren grumbling something to Rol about washing off vomit and dinosaur droppings.
Rol’s voice rumbled in the training yard, and then Bren shouted, “What was that about? No! Let go of me. I’m going to the house to have a word with that witch. Again!”
“Hold, Bren.” Rol’s footsteps echoed as he ran, no doubt not keeping up.
Circling over Shadowbridge, I tried to catch a full breath. The shock of the attack, my near defeat—and Bren’s sudden, reckless, and surprising appearance—it was all too much.
And now another tantrum.
I would have preferred the Shadows to facing Bren in a temper, especially since he would be full of arrogance from what he thought was his “victory.” I could not believe he had taken such a chance, risked everything—risked himself—for me.
Should I berate him or hug him for hours?
His bravery coated me like some protective force. It maddened me. He maddened me. I wasn’t sure I didn’t like it, though.
Stop this! I must remind him who is queen. He needs to remember who has the power here. Otherwise, he’ll be insufferable.
L.O.S.T. Trilogy Box Set Page 10