Lightfoot

by Joe Kuster

  A hissing sound filled the air as the ritual circle began to collapse.

  “That’ll do it, now get us out of here!” the dungeon yelled.

  Ripping her weapon free, Rachel fought off another tentacle that had slipped through the portal. As the severed limb dropped to the ground, the tip stabbed into TJ’s back with the force of a juggernaut. He was smashed to the ground under the strength of the blow. Rachel rushed forward, slashing like a madwoman.

  He tried to move his right arm, but it felt like something had broken, and he felt blood rushing out from a gash just below his wings.

  Rachel leaped over a groping limb and jerked him to his feet. Still panting from his injuries, TJ fought hard to get airborne. Dodging left and right, he didn’t have much room to work with as they tried to fly out of range. Flapping with everything he had and still falling short, they came crashing to earth.

  He lay in the grass of the plaza, gasping as every muscle in his body screamed at him.

  Back the way they’d come, the beast began making spastic movements. Buildings crumbled as it whipped wildly back and forth. Slowly, the creature retracted its limbs as the portal shrunk. As if refusing to let go of its hold on this realm without one final insult, the thickest tentacle stuck straight into the sky and reached as high as it could.

  TJ tried to stand up but couldn’t manage it. Only then did he check on his body with his magic.

  Groping wildly, he began tugging at his robes, trying to get out of his armor. Rachel looked at him, confused, then realization dawned on her as she started helping. Under the chainmail lined robes, something writhed on his back.

  TJ screamed in pain as the tip of the severed tentacle managed to pierce into his flesh deeper and began breaking his ribs. It wormed hard under his wing as Rachel cut away his clothes. Grabbing the end of the severed thing, she whipped it free with a sickening spray of blood.

  His skin began to knit shut as he dumped the last of his available magic into his healing. He nodded weakly to Rachel in thanks, but the shadow looming over them grew darker. Their eyes drifted skyward to see that the massive trunk of flesh had been severed by the closing portal and was falling their way. Rachel’s eyes went wide as she jerked on TJ’s arm.

  The severed limb lost any sense of support as he fought to get to his feet. Just as the massive body part was about to crush them, a clawed arm reached out of the shadows and gripped the pair.

  The next thing TJ knew, he was ripped into the darkness. Vertigo took hold as he was dumped onto a set of shady stone steps. A massive boom echoed through the courtyard as hundreds of tons of beast fell to the ground where they’d just been.

  Kallista panted from the strain of carrying them both through the void but began laughing like a madwoman as she rolled onto her back. Next to her, Abby’s bolstering spell faded out of existence, and the glow around Kallista faded.

  A voice boomed, “You! Fell hellspawn from a false goddess! Prepare to die.”

  TJ jerked his head to the side to see the corpse of Timarat’s champion surprisingly mobile. His skin was torn away, leaving raw bone and dripping flesh. A brilliant green glow shimmered around the man, and he held a sword made of divine magic in his hand.

  “I’m going to rip every bone from your—” The man’s words were cut off with an abrupt ‘erk.’

  The Duchess appeared from behind the champion and ripped his head from his shoulders with her bare hands. “Oh, please, what is it with you men and bones? You either want to give them or take them.”

  Keeping the giant’s torso upright with what looked like no effort, she opened a familiar-looking jar and began pouring what appeared to be salt into the man’s chest. The green shimmer flickered and faded as she continued pouring more salt into his open neck. Once the man’s magic faded to nothing, the salt reversed flow into the container.

  Once complete, the Duchess dropped the body. As it hit the ground, it exploded into a fine dust. The duchess gave a malicious grin as she dropped the jar into a hole that appeared in thin air.

  Seeing that the problem was solved, TJ rolled flat on his back and closed his eyes. “I need a freaking vacation.”

  Chapter 40

  TJ grimaced as another body was dropped by his side on a stretcher. The soldier in question was screaming, and it wasn’t helping TJ’s disposition. He’d been at this for hours, and every part of him ached. At this point, even his hair hurt.

  Focusing inward, he pressed his hand to the man’s bloodied forehead. Dumping healing magic into the man, TJ let out a muffled scream of his own as he began closing a gash in the man’s thigh that went all the way to the bone. His magic burned and protested, but he forced it to keep going. He’d have to hope that Serina wasn’t too pissed at him later, but for now, his magic wanted nothing to do with this man.

  He’d promised the Duchess his assistance in healing her troops in exchange for changing the laws enough to let Kalli’s people settle in Skyridge until he could find a way to get them home. He’d worked out a plan using his new portal ritual and the dungeon, but it would take time to put into motion.

  As part of that bargain, she would send special dispensations and her own troops to ensure Kalli’s people arrived safely. Duchess Aberdeen had also given her expertise in removing their oaths and was in her receiving hall popping the New Order’s vows off them one at a time using her own magic. In the back of his head, he’d felt Suvbus subtly hint that he’d pay back Serina for the cost, as well as check in on her. Of course, that meant TJ was left to do all the work that made his insides feel like they were being consumed by lava.

  Barely able to hold his sanity together, he knitted just enough together that the man would survive his wounds. The spearman would recover fully after a few months, and TJ had saved his leg from amputation.

  Three priests not affiliated with Timarat worked in other impromptu tents nearby. He could hear other healers going through similar tribulations since most of the injured weren’t affiliated with their chosen patron. In short, no matter how much he wanted to bitch about having a larger share of the wounded than the others, none of them were having very much fun.

  Wordlessly, the attendants dressed in the Duchess’s livery lifted the man and hustled him away.

  TJ groaned as another litter was brought in. He didn’t even wait for the man to be plopped fully into place before he’d slapped his hand to the man’s forehead and closed his eyes in concentration. The man started to speak, but TJ ignored it.

  A familiar golden glow filled his being as he force-fed his magic into the man. His magic found the issue, and TJ winced. The man’s right hand had been severed. Otherwise, the man was fine other than a few scrapes and bumps.

  Before he continued, TJ needed to know how long the line behind this one was. While he could cover the wound quickly, it would leave the man disfigured. He could try to regrow the limb, but there wasn’t much divine essence left. Fully healing this one might mean others dying.

  TJ opened his eyes and saw Rachel looking back at him from the other side of his patient. Glancing down, he took a second look at who he was treating. His patient was in his middle age with cropped black hair flecked with a few white hairs. The man had a short-trimmed beard and familiar blue eyes. The soldier looked to have spent a lot of time in the sun and was covered with dried blood.

  The older man held onto Rachel’s hand in his left hand. Further perplexing the scene, Faith was curled on the man’s lap, asleep.

  TJ blinked at the scene, confused. He’d obviously missed something important.

  “TJ, meet my father, Sir Theodore Blackstone,” Rachel said.

  The wounded man deadpanned, “The monster was being impolite to the Duchess, so I went to give it the finger. I guess I overdid it.”

  TJ’s brain was too busy running circles to respond to the joke. Instead, the Breeze Dancer stared blank-faced at the other man as Rachel groaned and covered her face.

  Taking TJ’s non-response in stride, the man asked, “S
o, are my sword-fighting days over? They say it’s all in the wrist, but they’re full of shit.”

  “Oh, right. Yeah… let’s go ahead and get you patched up, uhm, Sir?” TJ stammered.

  The man chuckled then winced in pain. “I think I’m supposed to call you that, Count. Call me Theo. Duchess Aberdeen gave me the short version of her plans for Skyridge while we held the keep and waited for reinforcements. She’s a scary bitch when she’s angry.”

  “Right… right. So, before I doctor you up, how many are left out there?” TJ asked.

  Theo replied, “I made sure my men were taken care of before me. I’m the last survivor. Rachel has been telling me of your adventures while we waited. It seems I need to learn a bit more about this Lady Serina. It’s not every day a man’s daughter is brought back from the dead and given divine talents powerful enough to ward off that… thing. Any idea of what type of offering I should make?”

  TJ smirked. “Ah, yeah. From you? Yeah, she’ll probably have one very particular favor in mind. I’d ask someone to bring in something for you to sign, but it seems we’re a little shorthanded around here.”

  The man snorted in amusement, then rubbed at his eyes with his left hand.

  Mopping the sweat from his brow, TJ didn’t bother warning the man about the pain he was likely to endure. He’d been outside the tents listening to the screaming for hours. Instead, TJ focused on dumping whatever he had left into the task. While his magic resisted him at first, it didn’t burn nearly as severely as the others had. After only a few moments, Theo’s flesh seemed to welcome the healing.

  His patient didn’t seem to be in pain either. The best theory TJ had was that the man had unofficially converted to Serina’s non-existent religion. If that were the case, TJ wasn’t going to complain. Keeping his magic focused as best he could, he began regrowing bones, tendons, muscle, and skin. It took him quite a while as he tweaked and positioned his intent, but eventually, he felt the pull at his core taper off. Looking inward, it hadn’t cost him a tenth of what he’d expected.

  “Rachel… this is… amazing. I see what you meant,” the man murmured as he marveled at his newly repaired flesh. He pursed his lips, as if remembering something important, then turned to Rachel. “Alright, I’m not an idiot, young lady. You’re not exactly subtle. I know you’ve got it, so where is it?”

  TJ cocked his head, confused.

  Rachel grinned and pulled out a familiar parchment. With a bit of digging in a nearby satchel, she produced a writing kit. The other man scribbled his name in place, not even reading the document.

  Rachel swept it away before he had even raised the nib from the paper and handed it off to one of the Duchess’ aides who was standing just outside the tent. Without a word, the servant took it and shot off like he’d been given the most important mission of the day.

  TJ rubbed at his bleary eyes and smiled. He was exhausted, but he had one more thing to do. Pulling the vial of divine essence from his pocket, he gauged it as being just enough for what he had in mind.

  Knowing she was on the other side of the tent flap, he called out, “I’ve got one more patient to put to rights. Kalli, come on in here.”

  Epilogue

  TJ poked at his map, eyeballing his options. They could take the left branch, and it would shave miles off their trip, but they would have to ford two rivers. They didn’t look large, and it hadn’t rained recently, so he thought they should be manageable.

  The right was a trade road sprinkled with villages and towns and would be the safer route. However, after being cooped up for over a month in Ardsville during the reconstruction, he couldn’t help but be excited about the opportunity to see the countryside and visit the elven islands.

  He’d been hoping that he and Rachel could have a relaxing honeymoon. However, the Duchess had wielded him as a cudgel, sending him after any remaining insurrectionists that Jewels identified. Additionally, anyone with a charm spell had been drafted into the interrogations.

  The Duchess had paid him handsomely in both funds and favors for his help in stabilizing the duchy. The experience had cemented their working relationship, and he’d picked up quite a few more spells as payment, but the tasks required had left a sour taste in his mouth.

  When rumors cropped up of the Duchess having access to a divine assassin that traveled with a flying black cat, he knew it was time to go. The fact he’d run into fewer humans on the left path sounded more than appealing, as he needed to distance himself from those stories.

  He waited for the wagon and other horses to draw near and passed the map to his companions. “I was thinking left. Any objections?”

  Abby glanced at it, then shrugged indifferently. As usual, she’d leave it up to him.

  She started to pass it to Bethany, but the blonde waved her off. “I’m good with whatever. I’m portaling back to Ardsville, then joining the caravan headed to Skyridge tonight anyway. I just wanted to see you off.”

  TJ chuckled. “I still can’t believe Serina has a priestess.”

  “Once I had her name, I did a lot of praying to her once you left. She seemed flattered and started answering them. Besides, it’ll keep you coming back. Serina told me exactly how she wants us to dedicate her temples and initiate new priestesses. It seems her champion will have quite the role to play,” she said with a wink.

  Rachel made a small cough. “I insist you try to keep the number reasonable. My husband gets distracted easily.”

  Kallista rolled her eyes, then pulled the map into her lap to inspect the details. After a bit, she raised her eyes to the hilly terrain around them. As she calculated travel times in her head, she idly fiddled with the bright green streak in her otherwise black hair.

  Ever since TJ had fixed her scars, she’d been more comfortable leaving her hood and collar down. She was still shy about the rest of her newly repaired body when it came to bathing, but she was slowly becoming more relaxed around the group.

  She traced a finger across the proposed routes. “There are bigger towns and more waystations to the right, but we’re fairly stocked up. The other route might get us to Norwich a day earlier. Maybe two. I vote left. Fewer days in the saddle.”

  Rachel chuckled. “You’re only skipping the inns because TJ can portal us back to the dungeon each night rather than sleeping in the rough.”

  “Jewels set us up with those ritual stones that are already scribed and stay powered, I say we use them. Her place is a lot smaller than it used to be, but it’s comfortable. We can use the exit to Ardsville from there if we want. With the crackdown on the New Order and the Duchess feeding her traitors to the dungeon, Jewels has what she needs to keep it going.”

  Kallista chuckled darkly. “Ah, that was great. Skippy was one of the traitors. The Duchess let me knife him in the nuts before throwing him into the dungeon, naked, and with his hands bound. The fact I get to literally sleep better because of that is just icing on the cake.”

  “Comfort aside, it’s safer than tenting in the backcountry. I doubt the New Order idiots that escaped forgot about us,” he said.

  He was mentally trying to distance himself from the mass executions. The Duchess had been rather savage to those she had sentenced to death for taking part in the attempted coup, and she seemed all too happy to let Jewels serve as executioner. It hadn’t happened yet, but if someone somehow managed to survive the dungeon, they would simply be hung when they reached the exit.

  Rachel pursed her lips. “The portals are convenient, but that assumes no one messes with the return stones while we’re away.”

  “It’s a risk, but not a big one. They are supposed to be invisible and impossible to move once placed. Even if they put a cage over it or something, I could always bounce us back the way we came. That also means once Bethany has our destination stones in Skyridge, we can pop back there anytime we want. We’ll get a set placed in Blackstone Manor once Rachel’s father gets back to Larton,” he replied.

  Left.

  Hungry.
>
  More hunting.

  Everyone chuckled at the little demon.

  Rachel offered, “Left it is.”

  Feeling a nagging sensation, TJ reached down and uncorked the brown bottle he’d left attached to his saddle. He took a few swigs, assessed his oaths, then took another pull before corking it. He hadn’t been drinking much lately, so it had begun complaining.

  “At least the Duchess sent us with some decent alcohol. This brandy isn’t terrible. It’s a bit fruity, but it hides how potent it is,” he said.

  Abby pursed her lips, then offered, “I’ve wondered. Why do you not just use your spell to change ze flavor of whatever you’re drinking?”

  TJ’s jaw dropped. Catching his expression, the others broke into laughter.

  “You didn’t think about that, did you?” Kalli poked.

  TJ shook his head slowly. “Damn. All that horrid whiskey I had to… I… I’m a fucking idiot.”

  Recalling a question he’d meant to ask for a long time, TJ turned to the group. “Ok, so if I’m going to admit to doing something stupid, I might as well admit ignorance too. What’s the deal when people hold their fingers in the air. It’s like they are reading something.”

  Rachel cocked an eyebrow, then laughed. “Pedantry? I had no idea you didn’t know what that was. It’s not polite to mock them, dear.”

  “Mock? Why would I make fun of them? It’s some kind of high-level talent, right?” he asked.

  Snickers broke out, and it looked like everyone else was trying to suppress their laughter.

  “Ze opposite, in truth. If someone is obsessed with numbers and their deity allows it, zey can spend a boon to gain a skill zat shows what they perceive in an accounting ledger of some sort,” Abby explained with a mirthful grin.

  “Why does everyone find that funny?” TJ asked. “It sounds useful. The Duchess seemed like she knew all sorts of things about me.”