“Taylon?” His voice was hoarse and throaty. Taylon stared for a while at the man, trying to reconstruct him.
“Nonk?” It was probably one of his officers.
“Come to join in the fight?” Nonk smiled revealing several missing teeth behind blood-caked lips. A gash across his face oozed scarlet.
“Why are you still here? This is crazy.” Taylon crept out a bit farther, but remained partially blocked. Nonk took a moment, drool dripping out of his mouth. “She used us…Euphoria. I don’t take kindly to that.” Without waiting for an answer, he ran forward, between two booths.
Kara watched him go. Her eye caught a twinkle from one of the nearby stalls—a sword reflected in the firelight, but it triggered a memory.
“I think I know how to stop this thing.”
***
Lyra surveyed the destruction and found it was good. Most of the elves had retreated after the second blast. She scooped up a few warrior nymphs and sucked them dry, refilling her reserves. She felt powerful, ready to take on anything.
The boy still cowered with his precious magic, whatever it was. The old human with him had a trace, an appetizer. She turned to look at the human army side. Most had been toasted, the life snuffed out of them. Captain Nonk was still alive, but he was more an annoyance now.
As she turned to face the boy, she caught sight of the girl, and then him.
“Kara…” it came out in a whisper. The girl who had stopped her reign short, in the beginning. Oh, how sweet it would be to finish her. And Taylon, the one that had defied her. It was he who scattered the pieces of her true power. Soon she would seek to reclaim them.
“Taylon…Kara. Come out from hiding. I know you are there.” Lyra swatted debris out of her view. She grabbed a nearby satyr and threw him into the aisle where the two traitors hid.
Slowly, Taylon emerged first. He shielded Kara. His only weapon was an elvish bow and one arrow. Lyra smiled.
“So you have come to slay me. You believe one arrow is enough?” The giant laughed. Taylon did not say anything, his eyes trained on her. Kara did not look up. Fear, that’s what it was. Lyra knew how these humans felt.
“Then come, take me down. I have already vanquished a few of Kara’s friends. What’s one more?” Lyra released another fireball to solidify her intent.
***
Chele knew her chance was at hand when a third fireball unleashed. She had been studying her enemy and knew the withering force field cut off whenever the creature used magic. The human ran forward, ready to slice off Lyra’s foot.
As she cocked the sword back ready to swing, something fell and dropped between the giant’s feet. Chele didn’t stop to think. All sound and all words were meaningless, as she swung her sword with all her might.
The lava sword hit flesh and sizzled as it cut, but it was not a clean slice. Half way through, Chele felt immediate resistance that threw her off. A horrible scream penetrated the air. Something bloody, shiny, gleamed by the wounded foot. Instinctively she reached out, grabbed it, and turned to run.
Queig was halfway to rescue her when she ran into him. They stumbled a bit, but then ran full out. The geth followed their retreat. Their ears rang with pain, but they kept running. They kept running.
***
It all happened so quickly, and not at all according to plan. Fret schemed with Jesset to get rid of Lyra’s necklace. That was what held the power. He told how the force field went away when she used magic.
“So I will taunt her, and you have Reggie swoop in and snag the necklace.” Jesset signaled to the bird, and it came quickly. It landed on Jesset’s shoulder.
Fret turned to Ynob, who seemed to be somewhat recovered. “Does that sound like a good plan?”
“If you want to poke the evil creature with a stick, go right ahead, but count me out.” The wizard stood, but it still seemed to be a chore for him.
“Taylon…Kara…” The rest of what Lyra said was lost to them. Reggie had flown off into the sky, his part in the plan secured.
“Kara! She’s here?” Jesset cried out. The wizard appeared startled too. Fret looked between the two. He had heard of her, but never met the girl in person.
Lyra’s voice boomed as she talked, but none of the group paid attention.
“We can’t worry about it now! Hambone’s gone, Ra’na is probably gone. We are the only hope of—” Fret’s speech was drowned out by the eruption of a fireball.
He turned and saw the magical blaze hurl toward the human side. Reggie, following the plan, swooped in under Lyra’s neck and snagged the necklace. But something shot from the fire—an arrow. It twinkled before it impaled the crow.
Fret’s mouth dropped open. The bird and the necklace fell to the ground.
Then from behind the giant, someone that looked human—except for the violet skin color—attacked Lyra.
“What…?” Jesset said beside him and his concentration broke. He looked at the old man, who had been watching what was going on. Fret glanced back at Ynob, who was back on his game. The wizard was chanting.
Fret turned back to Lyra, extending his hands. Hopefully this would work.
***
Lyra felt the necklace snap and something strike her chest before it tumbled to the ground. Her whole focus had been on Taylon and Kara, and she let down her guard. Before she could reclaim the necklace, pain shot through her body. Something severed her leg muscle. It burned intensely, pain like never before. Lyra felt her leg begin to collapse. Her balance shifted. She tried to brace herself, but the fall was inevitable.
As she fell, Lyra glanced toward her other enemies, the boy with the magic. Her eyes widened more than the shock of seconds before. Lightning shot from Fret’s outstretched hands directly at her. She tried to conjure a shield or even yell, but it was too late.
White-hot fire engulfed her. The burning only paused for a second as she crashed upon the market floor. She made to call out, but everything went red, then black.
Chapter Nineteen
The survivors huddled together around a fire made of salvage from the market. It was a communal fire for those still left after the destruction of Aladedas. The fighting had ceased. What was left of the human army had retreated. Someone said the captain was still half-alive, leading them home. The elf army, the ones who remained, had gathered under Gantha’s direction. With the truth told, the elves stood behind the remaining council member. They now carried the slain to the flames.
Jesset sat on a log next to a wounded gnoll. Neither spoke as they watched the flames from the salvage fire flicker. Lire wolves howled in the distance, but none came near.
Fret continued to help the elves. His main motive was to locate Ra’na. They had not yet found her among the wreckage. Only a few clothes and an axe were all remaining of the Dwarc. Jesset kept them by his side in case they found Ra’na. They both agreed she should be the one to burn them.
Gantha lent a hand wherever he could. A few of the shop owners lay trapped underneath their booths or other debris. He teamed up with a scarred nymph rescuing these survivors. Even though partially burned and having a few visible cuts, Gantha smiled as a nymph passed by, Fret shook his head at the sight too. He had to admit the nymph still looked beautiful amongst all the destruction.
Most survivors were silent as they stood or sat by the fire. Some wept because they had lost everything. Some seethed internally, angry at it all. But most were morose, staring at the flames, watching the dead go to their final resting place.
Kara stumbled out of the wreckage shortly after the fall of Lyra. She told of how Taylon saved her life, as his body took most of the fireball’s impact. His aim with the bow had been true. A crystal tipped arrow….
“After the strike, there wasn’t any life left in Taylon. He had gone out like a true warrior.” Later, she placed his body on the fire. Kara told of her brownie friend, Warren. She wasn’t sure when the brownie had left her pocket, but he had been gone after the fall. Fret noticed her staring off in
the distance.
Kara found Jesset and they hugged like never before. Fret watched them, delight filling his heart once again. After introductions, both smiled. There would be more time for talk later.
Once Lyra had fallen, the battle stopped. The lightning bolt had blackened the body, but the remaining victims were the ones to fully finish her off. Every piece of flesh burned in the salvage fire. Orcs, satyrs, elves, gnomes, and sprites alike took their piece as vengeance. Gantha came on the scene when there was very little left.
One of his warriors brought him the lava sword Chele had left behind. He saw it as a fitting gift, raised it high in the air for all to see, and dubbed it Wraith Killer. It was then everyone knew the terror was over.
Roberto buzzed through the survivors. He also joined in the search for Ra’na. And he found her.
She was two aisles over covered with furniture. The stall had collapsed upon her, a broken solid oak table lay on top of her body. Ra’na was alive, but barely. Fret and Gantha gathered at her side. Bones were broken, there was no doubt. The councilman had called his healers to do their best job with her, but their prognosis wasn’t reaffirming.
“We found her.” Fret came to the fire to tell Jesset. He looked up, his eyes old and sad. “She’s alive, but barely.”
“Can the wizard help?”
Fret looked around, stunned for a moment. But then his memory flooded back. “I…haven’t seen him since the lightning strike. Maybe he’s gone.”
“That’s too bad.” Jesset lowered his head. He patted the gnoll on the back and continued to stare at the fire. He laid his other hand on Hambone’s clothes.
Kara approached the two. She had already heard about Ra’na. “The necklace?”
“Someone ran off with it. The girl who took down Lyra.” Fret said and shuddered. The name still sent ripples of fear through him, even though he knew she was gone.
“But this could start all over again. We need to find her.” Kara looked around thinking she might spy that familiar blue glow.
“She’s gone. At least that is my best guess. Fled back to where she came from. And I don’t blame her.” Fret said solemnly. Jesset turned to look up at Kara. “We can only do as much as we are able. No more and no less.”
Roberto came and buzzed around them. He stopped and twittered something in front of them. They all stared, and then laughed not understanding the sprite at all.
“Sorry, but we don’t understand you.” Fret tried to stifle his laugh. It did feel good to laugh, but not at the expense of the poor sprite.
Kara grabbed a nearby elf, and he helped translate for them. “He says he wants to thank you. Especially you.” The elf motioned to Kara.
“Me? I didn’t do anything.”
More chirping from Roberto. “He says he is in indebted to you just like his sister was.”
“Sister?” Kara asked, but then it dawned on her. “Grace! You’re Grace’s brother!” If she could have hugged the sprite, she would have done just that. Roberto flashed many colors as he flew around her. The elf nodded before moving off.
As the excitement ended, Fret looked at the fire. “But what about the prophecy? Wasn’t there still something left about the third full moon?”
Jesset was the one to answer. “You know what Ynob would say about that? Screw it, it is only prophecy.”
The group laughed, and Fret decided everything would be all right. At least for now.
***
The goblin was pretty much pulling her through the forest. They had not waited for the giant to fall, which Chele knew Lyra was going to do so. The goblin wanted out of there. Chele shared the sentiment. Too much evil, and too much danger.
Chele had thrown the necklace, crow and arrow into a pouch as she ran with Queig through the market. Miraculously, their horse and cart were still intact. Quickly they boarded and headed home in the dark. The geth followed even though Chele did her best to discourage it. It jumped upon the cart and rode with them.
“Katrena will be displeased about the loss of her merchandise.” The goblin said as he drove the horse harder.
“Is that all you can think about? We almost died in the market. I took down a giant…whatever she was. Doesn’t that count for anything?”
The goblin shook his head.
The trip home was uneventful. Chele let Queig tie up the cart as she went into the house. It was where the goblin found her, frozen, looking down at the slain elf.
“Mistress!” But even as the goblin bent to check, she knew that it was too late. He wept softly. Chele stood, not knowing how to feel. Relieved? Scared? Joyous?
She left the goblin and found a place to sit down in the kitchen. The geth was at her feet yapping, looking hungry.
“I don’t think I have anything for you to…” But her arm bumped her sash and she remembered about the thing she had picked up. Pulling it out, she grimaced a bit. It was a funky necklace that had been stabbed by an arrow that went through a crow. Blood had dried around the bird.
Chele pulled the arrow out of the necklace and dropped the crow to the ground. The geth instantly pounced on the bird, eating heartily. The necklace’s chain was broken, its center stone horribly cracked. She traced her finger over the intricate pendant.
“Ow!” A sharp edge on the stone cut her finger. Her blood smeared the stone for a moment, before it dissolved in a glow. A blue glow, a warm light. When Chele looked at the necklace again, the crack was gone. Even some of the stone that had been jutting out seemed to have smoothed itself over.
Chele could only stare down at the necklace in wonder.
Chapter Twenty
The camp was dark. Most of the rebel elves slept. They had deserted the army on the long hike to Aladedas. Why fight and die beside your enemy when you could just wait and see who survived?
Kerlick returned to the camp earlier that day in a bad sort. He brought with him books, which the rebels just tossed aside. Their leader was injured, and they needed him alive.
Now, tonight, he lay on a cot, bandaged as best as he could be. Wine weaned his pain, and he felt little as he lay looking up at the sky. His mission was not completed, but maybe the books would be worth something to Da’Lynn, that murderess….
A snap of a twig nearby alerted him. He looked lazily in that direction, his eyes unable to focus. Sure enough, something moved out there. It moved closer…it hopped.
Slowly his eyes confirmed the shape. It was a rabbit…a harmless little—
SHUNK
The transformation sounded loud, but it was barely a whisper into the night. Suddenly before him was a full-grown woman. Her hand shot over his mouth so he could not scream, even though his instincts had yet to send the command. The wine was making it slow.
And he felt something stab him. Pain, a mild, translucent sensation, filled his body. Stabbed in the heart? Coldness spread through him, as it felt harder to move. Kerlick looked up into the woman’s eyes, his vision out of focus. He wanted to ask what was happening, but little by little everything was going black.
The rebel elf sagged onto the cot, life seeping fast from his body. His neck muscles failed and let his head flop to the side. And through his fading vision he glimpsed a rabbit scampering away. Such an odd thing to see in this part of the woods. But before he could further contemplate the mysterious animal, a last shuddering pain took him.
Chele
book 4 in the Territories series by Scott J. Kramer
From the ashes rises a new foe, one that could completely wipe out Faldoa and the Territories.
It has been a time of rebuilding since the battle of Aladedas. Nonk, hideously disfigured, both in mind and body, now rules the weakened human empire. When invaders from the North arrive in the land, they easily conquer his kingdom.
Word of this reaches the elves, but their response is dismissive. They have their own recouping to do without worrying about anyone else. Even when Gantha recalls the prophecy, little is done.
Meanwhile, deep in the T
erritories, Chele discovers a new ‘friend’ within a necklace.
Are the Territories doomed? Can a woman with a piece of jewelry possess the power to thwart this new enemy, save the Territories and her own soul?
Chapter One
Huge gale winds swept from the ocean, bringing the salt and fish smell inland. NakCha’s black hair whipped behind her, wanting to fly free. She enjoyed the wind. It was her freedom. The smell was home for her. If only it would last.
Behind her, dark clouds billowed from the trees; the evil looking smoke plumed upward. Every so often red flames would poke out, like eyes catching a glimpse of what next to engulf to devour next. The wind blew the stench inland, but NakCha reveled in the moment.
Out of the burning forest, her army crept forward. All rugged, rough looking brutes. Burn marks singed into some of their animal hide apparel, while others had faces smeared with soot. Four thousand in all, give or take a few stragglers.
NakCha didn’t need to look back at the destruction, or even to know who approached her from behind. She was enjoying the moment, spear gripped tightly in her hand, planted deep in the rock.
“MaNa, it is done,” her soldier reported. NakCha acknowledged the title MaNa, the formal phrase meaning my queen, even though she wasn’t remotely of royal blood. She was queen of this army at least.
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