by Aaron Hodges
Gabriel watched the young man, his anger mounting. “What are you saying? That Oaksville was not you? That it was some accident?”
Eric met Gabriel’s gaze, the lightning blue eyes piercing him. “I am sorry, Gabriel. There is nothing I can do to make it right, but I had no control of my magic then, no way to stop the forces that descended on Oaksville,” he sucked in a gulp of winter air. “But as I once promised you, I have spent every moment since then trying to atone.”
Tears welled in Gabriel’s eyes as he listened to Eric’s words. He could hear the pain in his voice, the regret. But he could not bring himself to believe the words, to believe it had all been a mistake. Everything he had sacrificed, it could not have been for nothing. He had sold his soul, had committed murder, all to bring justice for his family.
“My parents, my fiancée,” his voice shook. “They are dead because of you.”
Eric hung his head. “Yes.”
Only a few feet separated the two now. Gabriel reached out and grabbed Eric by the shirt. His eyes widened as Gabriel lifted him into the air and shook him. “They’re dead!”
Eric kicked out, striking Gabriel hard between the legs. Gabriel choked and tossed him to the ground. He stumbled back a few feet and glared at Eric.
Eric climbed to his feet, sadness on his face. “I cannot change the past, Gabriel, but I will do everything in my power to make the future better.”
Gabriel answered with a cold laugh. He waved at the sky. “And that? Was that you making the future better?”
Eric paled. “Yes, it was me. I lost control, for a while. But I stopped it,” he brushed dirt from his arm. “I am not perfect, but as I told Jurrien, I will never allow what happened in Oaksville to happen again.”
A chill spread through Gabriel’s stomach. “Jurrien?”
“Yes, the Storm God is not a great fan of me either. But we have bigger dangers to consider now, other threats to face. Even here, Enala is not safe from the ones who hunt her.”
“What do you mean?” shaking his head, Gabriel looked around, realising he had no idea where they were. “Where are we, and who is hunting Enala?”
“We are in Lon. And Enala is being hunted by Archon. He wants her dead, Gabriel, and if he succeeds the rest of us will quickly follow.”
Gabriel stared, his head spinning. “What?”
Eric grimaced and began to talk. Gabriel could only stare as Eric told him of Enala’s lineage, and the curse that had been placed on the Trolan king’s bloodline. His head throbbed as his heart quickened with fear. He sank to the ground as he listened to Eric’s tale of the events which had unfolded since he separated from Enala.
Swallowing hard, Gabriel tried to process what Eric was saying. He thought back to the cool, collected young woman he had fled with from Chole. Devastated by the loss of her family, she had nevertheless shown a steely courage in the face of her pursuers. She had been as at home in the jungles of Plorsea as in the dusty streets of Chole.
But the last hope of the Three Nations? It cannot be true. The thought whispered through Gabriel’s mind.
“Archon’s minions will not give up. If they succeed, the Three Nations will fall before Archon’s magic. Jurrien has asked us to protect her at all costs, to take her to the Trolan capital. Until she picks up the Sword of Light, she is in terrible danger.”
Gabriel swallowed, eyes fixed on Eric. There had to be more to this, something missing from the story. He would not, could not trust Eric.
“Where is she?”
“This way,” Eric strode past and back towards the building Gabriel had woken in.
Gabriel followed, lost deep in his thoughts.
They entered the dormitory through a small set of doors in the front and found themselves in a modest entranceway. This was a different door from which Gabriel had fled. He looked around as they wiped their feet on the rug, taking in the bare stone walls and simple wooden floors. Beyond the entrance way he glimpsed an interior lounge furnished with couches and a table.
Eric picked his way through the lounge. Gabriel followed, the path lit by a fire burning low in its grate on the far wall. Eric did not look back, and Gabriel guessed he did not care much whether Gabriel followed or not. He moved slowly though, shoulders slumped in exhaustion.
Gabriel’s own energy was quickly fading, his body still shattered from the time adrift. His mouth felt dry and his head pounded with a headache. He guessed it would take at least a week before he made a full recovery.
Together they made their way through a door at the end of the room and into a corridor Gabriel recognised. Eric strode down its length, glancing at the doors on their left until he reached the one he wanted. Reaching up, he tapped on the door. They waited.
Shifting on his feet, Gabriel glanced up and down the hallway, suddenly nervous. How would Enala react to seeing him again, after thinking him dead? Only a few days had passed since the river, but to Gabriel it felt like a lifetime. The world had changed while he drifted at sea, and his mind was still racing to catch up.
Eric reached up to knock again, but the door creaked open and a woman leaned out. Red hair hung across her face and she looked as though she’d just woken from a deep sleep, but she smiled when she saw Eric. She reached out and embraced him, then noticed Gabriel standing in the shadows. Her smile faded.
She stepped back and stared at him. “You must be Gabriel,” it was not a question. “Glad to see you are awake.”
Gabriel nodded. “Who are you?”
The woman hesitated and then held out her hand. “My name is Inken. You must be here to see Enala.”
“Yes, is she awake?”
Another face appeared behind Inken. Dark rings hung below her eyes and her blond hair was unkempt, but her sapphire eyes brightened when she saw him. “Gabriel,” her voice exploded into the corridor as she launched herself at him.
Gabriel laughed as she knocked him back a few steps. He held her tight against his chest, relief flooding him. He had never expected to see her again, not once the dragon attacked and the current dragged him under. To find her here, alive and well, was a miracle.
He heard Eric clear his throat and glanced up. “You two obviously have some catching up to do. We’ll talk in the morning,” he glanced at Inken. “Shall we find someplace else to rest?”
Inken laughed and leaned across to kiss him. “Let’s.”
They moved away down the corridor, leaving the two of them alone. Enala drew him into the room. Inside he found four wooden bunk beds and little else. Only two of the beds had been slept in, the ruffled covers suggesting Enala and Inken preferred the bottom bunks. Heavy curtains hung over the window at the end of the room. A thin sliver of moonlight shone through a slit between them, providing a touch of light.
Enala moved across to her bed and sat down. Gabriel followed suit, lowering himself onto the bed Inken had occupied. He looked across at her, just able to make out her smile in the darkness.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” she whispered. She reached across the space between the beds and grasped his hand.
Gabriel smiled in return. “I can hardly believe it either. How did we get to Lon?”
Enala shrugged. “It’s a long story,” she shivered, and he saw the glint of tears in her eyes. “This was just where the ship was heading.”
Gabriel hesitated. “Eric… he told me some of what happened. About your dragon?”
A sob cut the air. Before she could reply Gabriel moved to sit beside her. He pulled her into a hug, offering his silent comfort.
So at least part of Eric’s story was true.
“Her name was Nerissa,” Enala spoke at last. “She found me not long after I lost you, as I knew she would. I have known her since I was a child, when my family used to bring me to Dragon Country. I always thought nothing could hurt me so long as I was with her. I thought…” her voice broke. “I thought she could protect me.”
Enala trembled in his arms. He held her tight, lost for words. He k
new next to nothing about this girl, had only known her a few days. But during their time together they had become friends, comrades in arms against the unknown force pursuing them.
At last, Enala broke away. She glanced up at Gabriel. “You remember now, don’t you? What happened to you before the demon.”
Gabriel took a deep, trembling breath. “Yes,” slowly, he recounted his story, starting with the storm that had destroyed Oaksville. He did not hold back, made no attempt to cast himself in a better light. He had done so much wrong, made so many mistakes he could hardly bare to recall them. But after all she had been through, Enala deserved the truth.
When at last he finished, he drew in a deep breath and looked Enala in the eyes. “We cannot trust these people, Enala.”
*************
“Doesn’t say much, does he?” Inken commented, lying on the bed beside Eric.
Eric smiled and pulled her closer, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “He had plenty to say earlier.”
Inken smiled back, her skin tingling where Eric’s fingers touched. “And?”
She felt a shiver run through Eric. “I said what I could. I don’t think it made a difference,” he hesitated. “I’m glad he’s alive though, that I could apologise. I know it cannot make up for what happened, but maybe now I have a chance to show him who I really am, that I’m trying to put things right.”
“I hope so too,” she flashed him a sly smile. “Although I couldn’t help but notice some strange goings on in the sky when I looked out the window earlier.”
Eric groaned and Inken leaned across to kiss him. “What happened?”
“I wanted to try something, to copy what Jurrien did when he leapt off the ship.”
“And?”
“It worked, but I pushed too far, too fast. The magic took me well above my limits, and I lost control,” Inken heard the venom in his voice.
She smiled. “Stop being so hard on yourself, Eric. You took control again before anything happened, that’s what matters.”
Eric gave a sour laugh. “Small victory that,” he paused. “I didn’t really have time to think about it. Jurrien showed up again. He had a lot to say about me and my magic.”
Inken’s heart gave a lurch. She suddenly found herself wishing she had followed Eric earlier.
“Ouch,” Eric flinched away and Inken realised her nails had dug into his arm.
She released him. “Sorry, Eric. I do not like Jurrien; he is not like his sister. He is shrouded in anger, where Antonia is a calming force.”
“Was,” Eric’s voice cracked. “Antonia was… He found her in the forest. The demon killed her. She’s… she’s gone.”
Inken stared, unable to speak. She felt hot tears in her eyes but made no effort to wipe them away. A sound rumbled up from her chest, a half-warped sob that she abruptly cut off. She shook her head. “No,” she choked. “How could that happen?”
“I don’t know,” Eric’s voice broke again. “But we have to go on, for her. It’s up to us now, to ensure Enala gets to the Sword in time. Maybe it will be enough. Jurrien is preparing the Three Nations for war and hunting down the demon.”
Silence fell then, the weight of responsibility settling around them like a lead weight. With Antonia gone, the likelihood any of them would survive the coming war seemed non-existent. Last time it had taken the powers of all three Gods to overcome Archon. With only Jurrien and the Sword of Light, could they even hold their own?
“We have to try,” Inken whispered.
“I know. We can’t give up. I won’t rest until we finish the quest Alastair and Antonia started.”
Inken pulled him close again, leaning over to kiss him. Their lips met, fierce and hard. She held him tight, desperate to feel the life within him. He had come so close to death on the beach. Just thinking of the danger to come filled her with fear – not for herself, but for the reckless young man she loved. Eric told the truth; he would not run from the peril they faced – he would rather die.
Inken feared it may come to that.
Unbidden, hot tears ran down her cheek. Sobbing, she broke away from Eric, turning her face to hide the tears.
He heard her grief anyway. She felt his hand reach up to stroke her hair. Closing her eyes, Inken took a deep breath to calm herself.
“It’s going to be okay, Inken.”
Inken felt a wild, insane laughter bubbling up within her. She held it back. They both knew the lie in Eric’s words. If even the Goddess of the Earth could fall to Archon, what chance did they have? And if by some miracle they managed to defeat Archon, how many of them would survive the battle? How many souls would perish? Who of their company would live to see the dawn of a new peace?
It would be so easy to turn now and run, to find some hole in which the dark tendrils of the north would not find them. But she knew they could not. There was too much at stake, and if Archon conquered, the darkness would find them wherever they hid.
No, there was no choice but to fight.
Slowly the sobs subsided as she regained her composure. They lay there in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Here in Jurrien’s temple she felt safe, even if she now counted the Storm God amongst her adversaries. The darkness felt almost comforting with Eric beside her, as if it could hide them from the world without. But she knew it could not last, that morning would soon bring the light of day. Nor would the safety of the temple. If they remained, Archon would find them.
Only one option offered them hope. Get Enala to the Sword of Light, before all hell broke loose.
Inken closed her eyes and breathed in Eric’s familiar scent. Whatever the future may bring, they still had this moment, right here, right now.
She resolved not to waste it.
Five
“You lied to me,” Enala stood in the entrance to the lounge, arms folded across her chest.
They had been talking before she entered, but they broke off now, staring up at the two of them in the doorway. Silence settled like autumn leaves as Enala looked around the room, eyes lingering on each of them. Inken, Eric, Caelin, and Michael; she knew their names, though she had not spoken to half of them.
She and Gabriel had stayed up half the night talking. He had told her of the past he now remembered, of the storm which had destroyed Oaksville and killed his family. At first she had not believed him when he claimed Eric had brought the storm. She may not have spoken to the young man, but she could not believe he was a killer. But Gabriel was insistent, unwavering in his belief.
Now Enala wanted answers. Inken had said she could trust them, that they cared about her. But if Gabriel was right…
Eric shifted in his seat, looking like he was about to speak, but Inken beat him to it. “No, we didn’t. I know you trust Gabriel, that he saved your life in Chole. But there is more than one side to this story.”
Enala glanced at Gabriel. He stood staring at Eric, his face blank, unreadable.
She looked back to Inken. “Tell me then.”
Inken nodded. She glanced at the others. “Enala and I are going for a walk. Don’t eat all the food,” Enala caught the warning glance Inken shot Caelin as she stood.
Caelin raised his hands in surrender. “Don’t look at me. I was thinking I’d get some exercise before breakfast anyway,” he looked at the others. “Perhaps Gabriel and Eric will join me. You too, Michael, if you’re interested?”
Enala picked her way across the room and joined Inken as she walked out into the cool morning air.
“I’m quite alright thank you, Caelin,” she caught Michael’s words as the door swung shut behind her.
Inken led the way across the grass and into the gardens surrounding the temple grounds. White frost crunched beneath their boots as they made their way through an archway hung with winter roses. Mist billowed from their mouths with every breath, but the sun had just peeked over the rooftops of the nearest buildings. As its rays reached them, warmth spread through Enala’s limbs. The rich scent of roses hung in th
e air.
“I first met Eric and Alastair in the desert of Chole. I was dying; my horse had fled and I was unarmed and badly injured. If Eric had not spotted me, I would be dead,” they left the grass and stepped onto a gravel path leading through the gardens.
“What does that prove? That he has a soft spot for you?”
Inken scowled and Enala felt her cheeks grow hot. “Perhaps you’ll let me finish before you begin flinging accusations. There is far more to this story than Gabriel knows. Eric has never meant to hurt anyone with his power; he did not even know he possessed magic before Alastair found him in Oaksville.”
“What do you mean?”
“Before Oaksville, Eric spent the better part of two years wandering the wilderness, afraid to return to civilisation for fear of what he thought of as his curse. He did not know it was magic, only that there was some power within him he could not control. But finally, he could no longer bear the isolation. He went to Oaksville to begin a new life, but within an hour of entering the town he was attacked by slavers,” Inken spoke in a soft voice.
“When an emerging Magicker has not been properly trained, their magic is tied to their emotions. It is unleashed when they are overwhelmed. When Eric was attacked, his fear and anger took control, and his magic lashed out to protect him.”
“What do you mean?”
Inken stopped, gravel crunching beneath her boots. The thorns of a nearby rose caught in Enala’s coat as she turned to meet Inken’s gaze. “Eric had no choice in what happened, not once attacked. He had every reason to fear for his life, to feel enraged at the men attacking him. He could not direct how his magic responded to those emotions, not without training.”
Enala looked away, remembering her horror as she hid in the basement, while men murdered her parents upstairs. The anger had almost driven her to madness. She thought of Eric, unarmed and at the mercy of such thugs. Then she felt a pang of horror as she imagined the helplessness he must have felt once the power was unleashed. To know it was his doing, but being powerless to cease the destruction.
Tears sprang to her eyes. “Does Gabriel know this?”