by Aaron Hodges
The breath caught in Eric’s throat. “No,” he choked. The tears came now, hot and fast. “How can that be possible?”
“She was weakened by our battle with Archon. The demon took her by surprise. And it used the Soul Blade to do the foul deed, which means it now has her powers. It must be found, and quickly, before it collects any other magic.”
“How could you not have told us?” rage grew from Eric’s sorrow. “Where have you been?”
“I have been everywhere: alerting King Fraser and King Jonathan to the threat, the council of Lonia too. Mustering our armies, spreading the word. Archon is coming, and the Three Nations must stand together if we are to have any chance of stopping him,” he shook his head. “Even then, I do not believe it will be enough. Even with the Sword of Light, without Antonia we would lack the power to stop him,” he clenched his fists. Lightning crackled along his arm.
“Where is the demon now?” Eric asked.
“I have Magickers hunting it. They will signal me when it reappears, though they will not have the power to stop it. If it collects any more magic, it may be beyond even my powers. Last signs showed it heading north into Lonia, towards us.”
“It is coming here?”
Jurrien scowled. “How should I know what it will do next? Perhaps it is trying to return to the northern Wastelands. Perhaps it is hunting the last of the Sword wielders’. Or perhaps it is coming for me. I do not know. There is too much to consider.”
“What can we do to help?”
Jurrien laughed, the sound harsh and mocking. “Help? Help? You could start by leaving my city be,” he fell silent, and Eric thought he might finish with that. When Jurrien continued his tone was sombre. “Your priority must be getting Enala to the Sword. It lies in Kalgan, a long way from here. Archon’s agents will be looking for her now.”
“The best path to take would be a ship up the river to Ardath. From there you will have to continue on foot through the Branei pass into Trola, and then down the coast to Kalgan. It will take weeks. I only hope we have the strength to hold Archon back that long.”
“When can we leave?”
Jurrien shook his head. “It will take a few days to organise. My priests will take care of it. I must leave, there is much to be done,” he turned and walked into the night.
Eric opened his mouth to wish him farewell, but the God vanished before he could speak the words. Shaking his head, Eric sank to his knees. Exhaustion rose in his chest, sucking the strength from his limbs. His stomach twisted. He hung his head, taking a deep breath. He needed to return to the dormitory and sleep. Only then would he have the energy to take in everything Jurrien had said.
Footsteps came from nearby. Eric looked up in time to see a figure emerge from the shadows. A familiar voice greeted him.
“So, we meet again.”
Four
Gabriel woke in darkness, the last dredges of a nightmare clinging to him. Panic gripped his mind and sent him tumbling from the bed. Climbing to his feet, he stumbled across the unfamiliar room, fumbling for an exit as he struck a wall. He cursed as his elbow caught on a doorknob, and then slipped silently through the unlocked door.
Outside he hurried down an empty corridor, trying doors until he found one leading outside. Slipping into the night, he started across the grass, the dew cold on his bare feet.
Wind whipped at him and he heard a crash from overhead. Looking up, he froze, fear gripping his heart. The lights of the city lit the sky above, revealing black clouds spinning inexorably towards a whirling centre.
Gabriel took an involuntary step backwards. He gaped, unable to comprehend the vision. Light flickered across the underbellies of the clouds, and it seemed he looked into a portal to hell itself. The wind on the ground picked up as the tail of the twister grew closer.
Then another crash came, followed by the flicker of lightning, and the swirling ceased. The clouds drifted to a stop and the wind died away, returning the night to tranquil silence.
Gabriel stared as two figures tumbled from the sky, plummeting towards the grounds on which he stood. As they approached they slowed, finally landing close to where Gabriel waited. They did not appear to have seen him.
Taking a breath, Gabriel continued through the night, creeping towards where the two had landed. He shivered in the cool; even without the wind, winter was not far away, and the clothes he wore were thin, not made for the outdoors. A dull ache throbbed at the back of his skull and his knees shook, but he did not care.
Gabriel could hardly believe he lived. He had been just minutes away from sinking beneath the waves when the ship appeared.
It seemed someone, or something, was still looking out for him.
The faces of his rescuers had appeared only as blurs to his sunburnt eyes, but as he turned a corner and saw the two figures standing on the grass, he knew who they had been.
Gabriel stared at the young man, the same one he’d hunted halfway across Plorsea. He could hardly believe it. There he was, the demon boy who had burned Oaksville to the ground, who had murdered Gabriel’s family and left him for dead.
He felt the familiar anger well up within him, the hate that had driven him so far. He watched as the older man turned away, vanishing into the night. Taking a breath, Gabriel walked into the light.
“So, we meet again.”
The young man looked up, and Gabriel saw with surprise the lines of exhaustion stretching from his eyes. “Gabriel,” he paused. “You’re awake.”
His words confirmed Gabriel’s suspicions. “So it was you who rescued me at sea,” he stared. “Why?”
“Because we could not leave you there to die. That is not who I am.”
“We? Who else is with you?”
The young man smiled. “There are five of us, though you only know one – Enala.”
Gabriel stared, the name echoing through his mind. Enala?
He shook his head, anger catching light. “You have Enala? What have you done with her?” he took a step closer.
The young man rolled his eyes and raised his hands in surrender. “We have done nothing with her. In fact, she saved our lives back in Dragon Country. And then we saved her’s. We are protecting her against forces you cannot begin to understand.”
“Oh really? And why should I believe a word you say, demon. Who are you? What do you want?”
Eric scowled. “My name is Eric, and I am no demon. I am a Magicker – or at least I have been for the last few weeks,” he looked away, his voice dropping to barely a whisper. “Before Oaksville, before Alastair, I did not know what I was – only that I was cursed.”
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 knew 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.”
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 gaped, 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?