by Tricia Owens
He opened his eye again. The wall beside him showed something new, a scene this time. His mother was lying on her back on a bed while a man rutted on her. Lio had seen it before as a child so the act didn’t disgust him. What caused the hairs on his arms to stand on end was that he recognized the man using her body. It was the same man who eventually killed her.
He watched in horrified fascination as the man reached up in mid thrust and wrapped both hands around his mother’s throat. She began to struggle, but that only made the man thrust harder and faster into her. It was a sexual thing, Lio realized. The man wasn’t truly trying to kill her.
But in the end, he did, and Lio watched as the stranger hefted the body of his mother over his shoulder and carefully crept from the room into the alley where Lio would later see them.
Lio closed his eye again, shaking. He hadn’t known his ma all that well, but it was still traumatizing to watch her being killed. When he opened his eye, the scene replayed, only this time the shadows in the scene seemed more sinister, the mood blacker. Lio moaned in dismay.
He noticed then that Gam had stopped whistling.
His friend was gazing at the opposite wall of the canyon, his back stiff. Lio looked past the other thief, wondering if Gam was watching the same scene. But no, the wall beside Gam was opaque.
Worried that he might be losing his grip on his senses, Lio scrubbed at his eye. His fingertips caught on the eye patch, lifting it slightly. Lio gasped. He flipped the patch up completely, revealing the cursed hazel eye—Gam’s eye—that existed within his skull. Through that cursed eye he could see everything that Gam did, just as his friend could see Lio’s vision through an eye once belonging to him. Lio closed his own green eye to better concentrate on what his friend was seeing.
A scene played out on the wall. He saw a woman with a knife, bending over a sleeping youth. The woman looked angry, nearly maniacal as she raised the blade and brought it down in a slashing arc at the sleeper. But in her rage her aim was crooked and she sliced through the youth’s face rather than across his neck. The boy in the bed cried out and scrambled backward, his face drenched with blood. Lio cried out with him. The boy in the bed was Gam.
Lio snapped the eyepatch over the hazel eye and quickly urged his horse alongside Gam’s.
"I saw!" he cried. "I saw what you saw. That was your stepma, wasn’t it?"
Gam’s head snapped around. He was deathly pale, making the scar on his cheek stand out in a vivid red streak. "You—you saw that? How—"
"Your eye." Lio tapped his eyepatch. "I’m seeing my ma, too. I see her the night she was killed." He reached out and gripped his friend’s arm fearfully. "Why are we seeing these things, Gam?" The scarred thief was the sharp one; he would have the answer.
But Gam looked as frightened and confused as Lio felt. "I don’t know. This must be that magick Manix warned us about. Oh, it’s awful, Lio." He shivered. "I can’t stand to see that again."
"Me neither," Lio moaned, afraid to look anywhere but at his friend or the ground. "Do you think the others are seeing things, too?"
"Look at Hadrian," Gam murmured, his expression darkening.
Lio didn’t want to. He feared what he would see. He liked the black-haired sorcerer. He liked that Hadrian was shy like himself and that he seemed to be impossibly innocent. Hadrian was the last clean thing Lio knew of and he didn’t want anything to hurt the black-haired man or make him unhappy.
But he looked. Hadrian held onto Caled, his face turned to the side and his cheek resting against the larger man’s back. But it was the blankness of the sorcerer’s face that sent chills racing up Lio’s spine. Hadrian looked as though he’d been stunned by a blow to the head. Only his eyes moved, darting up and down the stone walls.
"We have to do something," Gam declared. "Caled!" He urged his horse forward with Lio right behind. "Caled!"
The mercenary looked away from a wall of the canyon. His face was pinched and mottled with red. Fury had turned his blue eyes nearly black. Lio gulped. He had an idea what Caled had been watching in the walls.
"We’re in the grip of a Cast!" Gam exclaimed once they’d drawn up beside the mercenary. "Magick is making us see things in the walls."
Caled looked to be on the verge of pulling one of his weapons and knifing Hadrian, so Lio urged, "Stop for a moment!"
The three horses came to a halt. Once they did, the walls became black and still once more.
Caled passed a hand over his face. He was sweating and trembling. Lio wanted to pat his friend on the back but refrained. An angry Caled, rare as far as Lio was concerned, was extremely intimidating.
"I saw Rhiad," the mercenary said needlessly. Lio and Gam exchanged a knowing look. Caled dropped his hand and released a deep breath. "By the gods, it was as if I was there again. I could nearly smell the smoke and hear the screaming—"
He broke off and abruptly twisted around in the saddle, dislodging Hadrian from his back. The sorcerer wrapped both arms protectively around himself and stared back at Caled blankly.
"What did you see?" Caled asked him. Lio couldn’t help noticing how his friend had to force the words out. The emotions stirred by Rhiad still coursed through the mercenary’s veins.
Hadrian’s face shuttered. "An unpleasant memory. The same as you."
Caled’s eyes flashed with rage at the simple answer. "An unpleasant—”
"Aye, Lio and I, too," Gam cut in to curb the other man’s anger. "It’s the magick in these canyons, I tell you."
The thieves watched Caled take another deep breath, releasing it in a shudder. Caled finally sat up straighter, nodding to himself as if to acknowledge his loss of control.
"The images stopped once our horses did." The mercenary studied the ground. "It’s the vibration, just as the Elder said."
"I’m not taking another step." Startled eyes went to Hadrian. The sorcerer was paler than usual, making his gray eyes looked bruised. "I’ll climb my way out before I unleash that magick again. I won’t!"
"What did you see?" Lio asked softly. He received a flick from haunted eyes, but Hadrian remained silent.
Caled studied the sorcerer for a long moment. "Hades is right. If I have to see that again I’ll end up hurting someone." No one needed to ask who that person would be. "We need another way out."
"But there isn’t any." Gam waved at the path they’d already traveled. "The way back is covered with Obar. Unless we throw a rope around our horses and lift them out of here, the only way to get out is to backtrack."
"Or move forward," Lio added. He glanced down the path but couldn’t see far. Sharp black glass blocked the view. "We may be closer to the end of the canyon than to its entrance."
Caled reached for the hem of his cloak and ripped off a strip of the fabric. "We ride blind. Cover your eyes. Trust your horses to follow the path. That’s our choice."
"That’s dangerous!" Gam cried. "We have no idea what’s ahead. The canyon floor could drop off!"
"It’s that or go mad," Caled shot back. "I’ll take the risk. Come on, Hades. Use your cloak."
Too scared to argue, Lio pulled up his cloak as the others did the same.
~~~~~
Riding in the darkness was a marginal improvement. Hadrian could still remember the scenes he had seen in the Obar walls. In fact, being trapped in darkness helped him to better relive them. He wanted to scream, and then he wanted to hide in a corner.
He clutched Caled as tightly as he dared, trying to concentrate on the dull thud of their horses’ hooves and not think about what he had seen. The memories spanned his childhood to adulthood, each one taking him back to those years effortlessly, but with the added regret and self-recrimination that came with the passage of time.
Caled had asked him earlier if Gavedon had hit him as Jessyd had claimed to be hit. To Hadrian, the whipping had been less hurtful than being alternately ignored and belittled by the most important person in the world to him. Hadrian didn’t think Caled would understand how painfu
l such treatment could be. Compared to the very real abuse of physical violence, what he’d suffered sounded too much like a child’s complaint, and Hadrian was determined to prove himself a healthy adult.
How long they rode, blinded and haunted by what they had seen in the rocks, he had no idea. It was Caled who noticed the change.
"Something’s ahead of us," he warned them all. "The pitch is different."
It took Hadrian a moment to realize he meant the sound that their passage made within the canyon. No longer did the narrow pathways echo with a nearly metallic ring. The sound their horses’ hooves made was duller now, the sound not carrying as far ahead of them.
Then he felt the faint, bee-like buzz of magickal energy ahead. He hastily pulled off his blindfold. An opalescent sphere as large as a horse and its cart sat in the middle of their path like an enormous soap bubble.
"Caled," he gasped.
The mercenary and the thieves yanked off their blindfolds as well. As they did, the sphere shimmered and then evaporated into the air like mist beneath an afternoon sun. Manix, Jessyd, and Syellen sat on their horses in the spot where the sphere had sat.
"Casts linger in the Falls," Manix intoned.
Caled snorted. "You could say that. Excellent choice of routes, Jessyd."
The brunette sorcerer looked chagrined as he ducked his head. "It’s dangerous, yes, but I insist that this Cast was not made by Gavedon."
Manix waved him off. "Regardless of who created this Cast, it exists. Your idea of the blindfolds is a good one. However, the road ahead must be traversed with open eyes. Jessyd’s passageway is at the bottom. The road winds and balances upon a sheer cliff face. The horses must be guided along it."
"Then how do we get down?" Gam asked as he stood in his saddle, trying to peer beyond the Elder to the road ahead. “How did Gavedon and the Order do it?”
Jessyd pointed ahead, though Hadrian couldn’t see what the other sorcerer was indicating. “We used the path, but there’s since been an avalanche. Rocks block the way.”
Convenient, Hadrian thought. "What was that glowing ball surrounding you?"
Jessyd let out bark of laughter. "You don’t recognize a Shielding Cast?"
Hadrian drew back his shoulders. "It wasn’t a question to you."
Jessyd gave him an odd look.
"Yes, Hadrian, it was a Shielding Cast," Manix explained. "I was exploring a possible method of moving us to the canyon floor. As Jessyd explained, just a few feet ahead, one side of the canyon falls away, leaving the path exposed and extremely dangerous. It would have still been traversable with care were it not for the rock fall. That, combined with the Cast in these walls leaves me reluctant to try riding down."
"What would your Cast do?" Caled’s voice reflected his distaste over the use of magick.
"Normally a Shielding Cast prevents outside forces from penetrating the Cast, thereby protecting whatever or whoever is inside. However, I reversed this one so that those inside could not fall out. In effect, trapping them inside."
"I was going to use my magick to lower the sphere to the ground," Jessyd finished, watching Hadrian for reaction.
Hadrian kept his face carefully still, but inside he reeled. Jessyd possessed that sort of control over his power? Hadrian was stunned and reluctantly impressed. He was also jealous. Quick on the heels of that jealousy came resentment. Jessyd had learned his control—his magecraft—from Gavedon. Hadrian had never received those lessons because his father had forbid him from joining the class. Why? So that such a moment as this would arise, where Hadrian, though naturally powerful, was ignorant and therefore useless?
"What if your magick fails?" Caled asked.
Jessyd shrugged. "The person inside the Cast falls out."
Caled’s laugh rebounded off the walls.
"Jessyd is strong," Manix said, unperturbed by Caled’s reaction. "We have been practicing while we waited for you."
"And if he can’t, Hadrian can do it, right?" Gam asked, looking at Hadrian hopefully.
"He will not be required," Manix replied, sparing him from answering. "Jessyd will be able to accomplish the task."
"This is madness." A muscle jump in Caled’s jaw. "I trust magick not at all and to allow him to use it on me in such a way—impossible. I’d sooner risk my horse down the path. At least I’d be responsible for my own death."
And mine, Hadrian thought. It appeared that Manix realized the same thing. The Elder looked from Jessyd to Hadrian, a small divot wedged between his silver eyebrows.
"Then let Hadrian do this." Jessyd threw up his hands, exasperated. "If no one trusts me give the task to him. Let him fail."
Hadrian shook his head quickly. "No, I—"
"Perhaps you should attempt it." Manix seemed to be trying to send Hadrian a message with his eyes. "The Obar and the nature of this canyon might alter the circumstances under which you work."
Though the others looked perplexed by his wording, Hadrian understood. Life might not recognize or react to him in this place. This was a magickal area made entirely of stone. Nothing grew here, so maybe Life’s presence was negligible in this place. It still wasn’t reason enough to try, however Caled was. Hadrian gazed at the back of the mercenary’s head and realized he would have it no other way. He would rather be responsible for the mercenary’s life than allow Jessyd to be. At least if he accidentally killed Caled, he would be punished with the loss of his life, too.
He looked to Manix and slowly nodded.
"Jessyd will be the first," the Elder declared. He obviously didn’t want the other sorcerer to be a witness if Hadrian had difficulty handling Life’s energy. It was a tremendous weakness that Gavedon could never be allowed to learn. It told Hadrian that Manix still held reservations about Jessyd’s loyalty. It was comforting to learn the Elder hadn’t been completely swayed by Jessyd’s falsehoods.
"Jessyd as the first sacrifice." Caled smirked. "I like the way you think, Elder."
Manix ignored him and led them further down the path, images of painful memories shadowing them on either side. As he’d promised, one side of the canyon fell away, opening into a large, deep valley. Peeking over the edge, Hadrian could just make out the canyon floor, several hundred feet below. If a man fell off this path, he would never rise again.
"Clear a space around Jessyd," Manix instructed. The others did so until Jessyd and his horse stood alone by the edge of the cliff. The young sorcerer continually darted glances over the side. Sweat glistened on his upper lip.
Manix raised his hands and began muttering magecraft incantations in an ancient tongue. Excitement filled Hadrian as he watched the mage work. One day he might learn what those words meant. If he survived this mission.
The buzz of magickal energy lit the air again, concentrated around Jessyd. His horse shifted nervously, but the sorcerer kept him in check as the glowing sphere surrounded horse and rider completely. Soon, the two were lost from view, obscured by the pearly surface of the Shielding Cast.
"Hadrian, try lifting them off the ground. Do not move them further than that."
Hadrian dismounted. He didn’t want Caled to have to feel the effects of his gathering magick. He approached the sphere, stopping an arm’s length from its glowing surface. His nerves jangled as he contemplated Life. Please, he prayed to the gods, let It not recognize me.
In his mind, he imagined the fist of his awareness opening and spreading wide. He waited for the rush of Life. But he felt nothing. No heartbeat thrummed along his nerves. Nothing. Was Life not accessible here? He didn’t understand. If Manix had been able to gather enough energy to perform the Shielding Cast—ah, but that was different, Hadrian remembered. Manix used magecraft. That ancient skill could only collect inert energy and weave it for his uses. Manix couldn’t actively pull energy from Life as Hadrian and Jessyd, or other sorcerers, could.
His fear fading, replaced with growing curiosity, Hadrian extended his senses. Now he could sense something different in the Obar. An energy
, but not the crisp, bright energy of Life—this was sluggish and vaguely masculine. His caution dissolving, Hadrian began to pull the energy he sensed. It responded slowly and reluctantly, a fishing hook caught in a bed of seaweed. He pulled harder, determined to find out what this energy was.
He cried out as malevolence flew over him like a net of thorns. Hadrian recognized the dark flavor of the energy. It swarmed over him like a mass of angry bees, energy stinging and lashing him in undulating waves. It was Gavedon’s.
He screamed, hearing shouts at the edges of his consciousness. He staggered backward from the cliff edge. He felt hands reach for him and then jerk away as the energy he had tapped turned his body into a lightning rod. His eyes blazed hotly like eggs boiling in water. His skin prickled as if it would bubble up off his flesh. He knew this feeling. Gavedon had done this to him on Shard’s Point.
This was a trap. Gavedon—his magick—had been waiting for him in the Falls, just as they’d feared.
The dark energy stung him relentlessly. He thought his entire body might be blistering. The sky appeared to darken. The black stone walls seemed to tremble around him. Hadrian fell to his knees as waves of magick needles pierced his skin and burned him from the inside out.
"Hades!"
The single shout, louder than the others had been, pierced his haze of pain. He opened his eyes and saw that the others had fallen from their horses and were writhing on the ground. Gavedon’s magick was killing them, too. Caled lay on his belly upon the ground, his handsome face twisted into a rictus of pain. But he reached for Hadrian, seeking contact—
Hadrian snarled and climbed to his feet. Energy battered him, sizzling through his veins like an acid, but he bit back the pain and reached for energy. Gavedon’s magick swatted him back to his knees, knocking the breath from his lungs.
He gritted his teeth and pushed upright again. He braced himself against the forces that beat upon him and finally managed to regain his feet. It felt as though his flesh was being shredded from his bones with each lash of magickal energy. He reached, and finally he grasped the whipping tails of dark energy.