L.O.S.T. Trilogy Box Set

by R. S. Collins

  “Okay.” I took a breath, then realized what the bubble had to be. “He’s using his magic to keep air around him. That’s a powerful spell under so much water, so it’s likely all he can do.”

  “Levitate him out!”

  “I can’t.” Goddess, why couldn’t I think? I rubbed my hands together, trying not to panic. “Wait. I’ve got it. Swim back down and cover his magic with your own. Anchor him and yourself while I move the water. Once the water pressure’s off, he’ll release the air bubble and you can drag him out.”

  Bren didn’t ask a single question. He disappeared below the water’s surface before I had a chance to prepare myself, but I acted as fast as I could. Centering, spreading out my senses and my magic, I encompassed the pond in shimmering silver-gold light. After another few breaths to prepare myself, I threw the full force of my being into my power and issued the command.

  “Levitate!”

  Rumbling like a volcano near eruption, the pond frothed as it lifted slowly from its bed. The weight of the water crushed into my mind. Higher. Higher. The net of my magic contained most of the water, but I had done my best to leave the pond floor intact. My eyes closed against the pressure of holding the spell.

  Soon, the sounds of Bren’s cursing reached my ears. Then low groans, rattling chains, hard scrabbling noises, and the sound of something sliding in muck. My knees tried to give. I swayed on my feet, but the spell flickered. Something slimy and very fish-like hit me on the head.

  “One-more-second-” Bren puffed from nearby. “Okay. Drop it!”

  I had no choice. I literally dropped the pond as I called, “Return!”

  As I forced open my eyes, water crashed to earth. Muck and fish and waves washed over the pond’s side and drenched me. I didn’t care. All that mattered was the huge, dark form on the ground beside a gasping, equally drenched Bren. Fish flopped back toward water, bouncing off Rol and Bren both. Bren waved his hand, flinging a few into the pond by magic. I helped the rest while I sank to my knees beside Rol.

  My training master’s eyes opened. He studied me as I gave him what healing I could. Bren did his own simple spells of energy and health, then we both attacked the chains. They fell away, freeing Rol. We helped him sit up, one on either side of his large frame. “The boy,” he rasped. “That wicked jackal-born devil took the boy. I tried to protect Aaron, but I failed.”

  “We all failed,” Bren said grimly. “The Erlking’s been getting into L.O.S.T. for days, making trouble. Nobody realized he had broken our defenses until it was too late.”

  Rol flexed his arms and moved his legs. “I shall take some potion for renewal, then find Acaw to take me to the Sacred Lands. No doubt that’s where the foul creature is hiding.”

  Bren looked at me and went still. I froze, too.

  Acaw’s crow-brother left the sky and came to rest on Bren’s shoulder, looking plaintively at Rol.

  The big man gaped at the bird.

  I wanted to collapse and sob until I had no sorrows left. Through my haze, I saw Rol gaze at my face, then Bren’s. His heavy brows drew together, and his expression shifted to one of mingled grief and rage.

  “How?” he growled.

  In a calm, strong voice that made me love him all the more, Bren told Rol how Acaw had died, sparing no detail. With, each word, Rol grew stiffer and the rage on his face deepened. When Bren finished, Rol staggered to his feet, using strength I didn’t think he possessed.

  “Easy,” I said as he swayed.

  Bren let the training master use his shoulder for balance, then winced with pain from the man’s weight.

  “You okay?” Bren wheezed.

  Rol answered with a grunt. Then he wheeled on Bren, fists clenched. “If you had caught that beast, still thinking him me, would you have killed him?”

  “Yes,” Bren said, his tone cool and definite.

  Rol’s fists released. He nodded his approval. “I believe you need no more of my training, warrior. Now come. Let us find this shapeshifter and settle our score.”

  “Exactly what I was thinking.” Bren sat down, spelled his feet clean of muck, dried his clothes, and began putting on his boots.

  “Wait a minute.” I grabbed Rol’s arm, desperate to be heard. “You need a healer, and now.”

  For the first time I could remember, Rol spoke back to me sharply. “I do not need medicine, woman. I need a sword.”

  I blinked. Woman?

  “Don’t make me command you, Rol.” I glared from him to Bren. Both stood up and each belted on his sword. Both had murderous looks in their eyes, but at last Bren gave me a single nod.

  “Do what she says, big guy. We’ve got to be at our strongest for this hunt.”

  Rol grunted again, but to my satisfaction, he turned toward the healers’ huts instead of the Path.

  He didn’t make it very far. A few steps into the journey, he collapsed, and Bren and I had to carry him by spell. It was just as well. If he’d been awake, he would have tried to leave the second we turned our backs.

  When we once more left the healer’s hut, this time with more hope and without the burden of tragedy, we again found most of L.O.S.T. waiting for us outside. My mother, Bren’s father, and the Circle girls stood in front, looking most anxious. Acaw’s crow-brother circled slowly overhead, keeping his ever-vigilant watch.

  “Rol should be himself in a day or two, though he is much grieved by Acaw’s loss,” I announced.

  An excited murmur ran through the crowd, and I thought my mother might weep with relief. Even Mr. McAllister looked like he wanted to shout at this bit of good news mixed with so many bleak tidings.

  “We need to use all of our combined smarts and strength to figure out how the Erlking broke our wards and got into L.O.S.T.,” Bren said, using his magic to help his voice carry to everyone in the crowd. “I want an organized search.”

  The back of the crowd suddenly swirled sideways. Yelps of surprise and disgust cut off Bren’s next words. Slowly, slowly, the ranks parted. A single hag—a hag I recognized as Dralz—came staggering toward us. Her hag-spirit hung about her shoulder like torn rags. Her face was a mass of cuts, as were her knobbed arms, visible because her sleeves had been ripped clean away. Her black robe sported slashes and not a little bit of black, seeping hag’s blood. If wasn’t much mistaken, she had dead animals, one in either battered, gnarled hand. She didn’t look capable of breath or movement, yet she walked, faster, and faster still when she saw us. Her hag sisters surged to the edge of the crowd, reaching for her, but she brushed them away.

  “There will be no need to search,” she said in her gravelly hag’s voice as she stopped in front of us. She held up the dead animals and dropped them at our feet, and I realized they were shims. “I have found the unwarded cave the Erlking used to make his entrance, Your Majesties. In the shim enclosure. Regrettably, there were a few losses during my exploration.”

  Suddenly, the many bird escapes made much more sense. Bren looked as dumbstruck as I felt, and I could tell he was thinking about the hundred ways we had tried to keep those birds caged. Of course they would not stay caged if someone was letting them out.

  Then Bren did something I never thought I would see him do. He touched a hag. Well, actually, he lunged forward and caught Dralz as she sagged toward the ground, lifted the bloody woman like she weighed no more than a child, and carried her to the next healer’s hut. The Circle girls, several hags, and three healers ran to join them.

  I turned back to the crowd. For a moment, I gazed at my mother. Then I chose a direction my father likely never would have taken, given how set he was on handling problems all alone.

  “We have reason to believe the Erlking will attempt to free Nire from her prison at Beltane,” I said, enhancing my voice so that all could hear. “He has shown his power, and he has already infected the Path with some sort of rot that looks and acts like spelled snakes. There is no reason to believe he will not succeed in his terrible quest.”

  The crowd muttered
and whispered as I paused. Some started to cry. Others swore. Still others stared at the ground.

  “I do not intend to surrender the Path or our Sanctuaries this time, no matter what the cost. We have seven days to prepare for war.”

  This time when I paused, the swearing had given way to intense looks of fear, determination, or in many cases, both emotions twined as one.

  I held up my hand to draw attention back to my words. “Tomorrow, each group or race should select two representatives and send them to the great hall at sunset. These representatives along with other members that Bren and I will select shall serve as a council to keep us unified and decided on a course.”

  This pronouncement shocked Mother, but I could tell it didn’t displease her. Instead, she looked intrigued, and as determined as the other faces I could see clearly in the waning afternoon light.

  “Tonight, Bren and I must attend to the unwarded cave and rest from the day’s many sorrows. I suggest you all eat and sleep. We will need to be sharp and focused come tomorrow, and ready to work. Now I ask you, before fatigue brings us to conflict, return to your homes and be prepared for anything. The Erlking has been creating strife, fooling us, pretending to be different witches—there is no limit to what he might try. If something angers you, remember this: it might be a trick. For now, try to set it aside.”

  To my surprise, the entire group dispersed as quietly as it came, save for Mother and Bren’s father. The Dana’Kell took up the rear of the retreating crowd, chanting softly for the coming of a peaceful sunset. The even rhythm of the clear, melodic song relaxed me—a dangerous thing when I felt tired enough to drop.

  My mother and Bren’s father approached me. Both looked as sad and exhausted as I felt. When Mother opened her arms, I gratefully accepted her hug. She smelled like rosemary and mint, and I knew she must have been gardening when the madness struck. She even had a little dirt on her yellow shirt. My mother, with dirt on her shirt. Living proof that all things can change with enough resolve.

  “My heart aches for Acaw,” she whispered. “As I know yours does.”

  I battled back a new round of tears. “There’s just no time to grieve. When this battle is finished, we will have a proper remembrance for him.”

  Another hand gripped my shoulder, and I knew it was Bren’s father. He said nothing, but no words were needed. In time, I pulled back from Mother and smiled at her. She had been so different since my return from death, more the mother I had always wanted and needed. I looked over her shoulder and saw Bren approaching from the healer’s hut, crow-brother on his shoulder, spelling hag’s blood off his clothes in rapid silver-gold spurts. His handsome face had a grim cast that I well understood.

  “Please get a good night’s sleep,” I told Mother and Bren’s father. “I would like you both to attend the council meeting tomorrow evening. For now, Bren and I have some shims to contain and wards to set.”

  Mother nodded. She took Bren’s father by the arm, and they departed, leaving Bren and me alone. When he reached me, Acaw’—no, no, Bren’s now—Bren’s crow-brother took off. Bren ignored the bird and gave me a long hug.

  “Dralz will be okay,” he said as he let me go. “The shims almost had her for dinner, that’s all. The Circle girls are helping the healers.”

  I sighed. “We have wards to set.”

  “No kidding.” He gripped his sword as we started to walk. “Let’s do this. Definitely before dark, too. I’m not looking forward to dealing with those stupid birds. They’re hard to nail even with magic.”

  “Maybe I can net them like I did the pond.”

  “Don’t push it.” He put an arm around my waist. “I don’t want you getting that worn out again. It looked dangerous.” Both of us walked on, glum, until I said, “I can’t believe you touched a hag.”

  “Hey. She took on a flock of man-eating birds all alone—and beat ’em, and found the hole in our protections.” Bren laughed. Not much, but the sound soothed my aching insides like warm salve. “If that doesn’t deserve a little respect, I don’t know what does. Besides, she’s a great example of what can happen if we all work together.”

  He listened while I told him about the council idea, then said he hoped it would help us keep the peace.

  “God knows we could use a little peace,” he added as we reached the shim enclosure. “I just hope the hags send Dralz. Her I think I could get along with, no problem.”

  Bren and I parted company after warding the small cave where the Erlking had been entering L.O.S.T. The beast’s foul energy was everywhere in the little stone space, and I had to bathe for an hour to feel clean again before I went to bed. When I dreamed, I found myself in the same nightmare as always—only this time, I could hear Aaron sobbing, too. A few times, as I pawed through the jungle trying to find him or Todd, I thought I felt the vibration of Aaron’s stone, low but steady, seemingly in my very bones.

  Across the morning and day, I patrolled, checked on the still-sleeping Rol, and made ready for the council meeting. Bren did his own patrols with his new crow-brother, saw to Todd’s zoo, and spent time at Rol’s bedside as well. Try as I might, I couldn’t quit thinking about Acaw, or expecting him to appear at my elbow whenever I needed him. Of course, he didn’t. I felt his absence acutely.

  When at last I called together the first meeting of the Council of L.O.S.T., I felt a little like I’d run an old Greek marathon. Bren looked equally tired, but Rol’s presence beside him seemed to give him energy. The sight of my training master well and whole made me smile. The great hall seemed huge around our gathering-though we had no shortage of members. My mother and Bren’s father attended, as did Dralz and another member of the hochkonigin, Quinn and one of his Dana’Kell priests, two Keepers, two harpies, two Shadow witches, and Sherise and Helden of the Circle. The bunch of us had arranged ourselves at a center table, except for the harpies, who sat at the table right of center—well, on it—and took up half a table each. I fought the desire to pinch my nose from the overwhelming stench of them.

  After dispensing with introductions, Bren spoke first, his crow-brother firmly on his shoulder. “We’ve lost one of our finest citizens, and Aaron has been kidnapped. All the Erlking had to do was play on our fears and worries, and he had us at each other’s throats. That can’t happen again.”

  He paused. The crow-brother cawed and clucked softly in his ear, and to my amazement, Bren repeated the sounds exactly. The harpies nodded and one sort of smiled, and I realized that with the help of his crow-brother, Bren had translated his statement for the beasts. Amazing. Typically, only elflings spoke all the magical languages, but Bren’s crow-brother was lending him that advantage, of being able to speak to creatures in the words they understood the best. Next, Bren listened to the crow-brother and repeated his original sentence in an ancient language common to oldeFolke. That last translation was a kindness, a gesture of goodwill, since the hags and Keepers could speak more modern English, though for most, it was halting at best.

  When I raised my eyebrow at Bren’s thoughtful use of the crow-brother’s skills, he winked and kept going.

  “We have to begin connecting and trusting each other. Without trust, the Erlking will see to it that no one is safe.”

  Once more, he repeated his words in harpy and in the ancient language. Then he went on to outline a patrol schedule for L.O.S.T., and to ask the harpies to help in patrolling other sanctuaries, since they could pass unmolested through the rot on the Path. They even agreed to organize a continuous watch, as much as their numbers would allow, to free Bren and me to spend more time preparing for whatever might happen on Beltane.

  When it was my turn, I took a deep breath and spoke a truth that had been in my heart since the first threat of Nire’s return. “We need to find a better way to protect witches. Something better than the Path, that can’t be infested or destroyed. Something that can be used by all witches, with or without the help of the king or queen.”

  Bren eyed me, surprised, but he t
ranslated. My mother eyed me too, but said nothing. Bren’s father nodded like he thought everyone in the room must have realized this by now.

  “I don’t know what the answer is yet,” I continued, fixing my gaze in turn on Quinn and his fellow priest, the Keepers, the hochkonigin hags, Shadow witches, and the Circle girls. “But I suspect what we need is magic as old as Nire, or older. If you’re willing, I need you to search your minds and histories. Search the archives. And at the same time, we need battle plans.”

  The hags and keepers nodded. One of the harpies gave an approving snarl. Quinn had a look of feral pleasure on his usually calm face. Under other circumstances, such a look would have unnerved me.

  Doing my best to keep my attention on what I needed to say, I kept going. “I would like to work with half of you to prepare for the possibility of invasion by the Erlking, his snake-rot, and even Nire herself, while the other half works with my mother and Bren’s father to research possibilities for better defense and escape.”

  After letting them have a few minutes to decide which of their representatives would head the two different tasks, I made ready to break us into two groups. Bren stopped me by holding up his hand. He gave me a sad smile, like he knew he was about to say something that would set my teeth on edge.

  Instead of talking to me, though, he addressed the group. “I’m not one for waiting, and with everyone’s support, Jazz can oversee preparations for battle. In the meantime, Rol and I plan to take the fight to the Erlking.”

  Bren took a deep breath before continuing. “Within the next few days, once we’ve figured out a few things, Rol and I are going to try to find the monster and take him out before Beltane, before he can release Nire.” More directly to me, he said, “It’s the best way I think we can protect L.O.S.T., and it’s time for me to go after Todd.”

  “And Aaron,” Rol added gruffly.

  From the corner of my eye, I saw the hags pat the hands of the Circle girls, and I heard my mother’s understanding sigh. I don’t know if Bren expected me to fight with him, to try to stop him, but the wisdom of his words couldn’t be denied.