by B. A. Scott
“General, what is this?” Gabrel presented the tooth he’d acquired. “Look, they’re everywhere.”
“Primen teeth,” said Fortenstar. Gabrel immediately dropping the poisoned fang. “Did it cut you?”
“No,” Gabrel said thankfully.
At that moment, the call of an Aerolus sounded on the wind. All heads turned to the Valean Mountains, which rose magnificently ahead.
“The Aeroli have seen us,” said Fortenstar. “They know we’re coming.”
The call came again. It sounded like a hawk, Gabrel thought, though it was manic. More urgent than a welcome should have been.
In the distant sky, he saw a small flock of winged figures flying toward them.
“Are those Fated?” Gabrel asked.
At the sound of another call, the General spoke assuredly, “No, they will take us the rest of the way.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Gabrel saw the reflection of a dark, featherless wing flutter in and out of sight. From behind a large silver boulder, a Fated One launched into the sky.
“Fated!” Domini yelled, and no less than ten arrows struck the demon. But not before it hurled a black orb toward the ground.
When the object struck the valley floor, it exploded with a blast of Gale, sending a spray of Primen teeth in every direction, like a blast of poisoned nails.
Gabrel ignited a shield, protecting those around him. Teeth ricocheted off its golden surface like a blocked barrage of angry hornets. But many were blown back and punctured like pin cushions.
With the army dazed and disoriented, another hidden Primen rose atop higher ground, and removed a similar dark orb from its protective casing.
“Shit, look out!” a soldier yelled, having spotted the demon.
“Fus’thranah!” it yelled, then reared back to hurl the terrible object into the thick of the masses.
A bolt of Fury raced from Gabrel’s fingertips, electrocuting the Primen. It tumbled, and the orb fell from its hand.
All eyes watched it fall, fearing for their lives.
Before it touched the ground, Gabrel caught it with his magic, locking it in the air.
“I’ve got it!” Gabrel yelled, levitating the orb higher. “Everybody back!”
“Search the passages!” the General yelled. “Secure this place!” He reached to his neck, and plucked a Primen tooth from his skin. “Damnit,” he cursed.
“General Fortenstar,” Gabrel gasped.
“Keep that thing afloat, don’t worry about me,” Fortenstar ordered.
Gabrel walked to the orb cautiously, as though any sudden movement would set it off. He eyed the Primen he’d killed, and noticed the protective casing at its feet.
“Asos, grab that,” he said, nodding to the coconut-sized shell.
Very carefully, Asos cupped the orb with the casing’s lower half.
“I’ve got it,” he said. “What is it?”
Upon closer inspection, the object appeared even more terrifying to Gabrel.
It was a ball of dark teeth.
“It’s an orb of Gale,” Gabrel said. “Surrounded by venom-filled Primen teeth.” Asos closed the lid on the casing. It sealed with a latch.
At once, Gabrel looked to all the infected soldiers around him. The army roused in mayhem. Men lay dazed. Some leapt from horseback while others aimed readied arrows in a frenzy of fear.
“So many of us were struck,” Fortenstar told him. “So many, infected.” He uncovered his hand from his neck. The wound was already black. “Marked for death.”
Thoughts of Adelyne poured into Gabrel’s mind. He remembered her wound at the healing house in Caleton, and how fast the poison spread.
The call of an Aerolus echoed loudly throughout the passes as three winged warriors landed near Gabrel.
“Fools!” the tallest of them spoke. He was a tannish red, and bore many spears on his lightweight armor. “Did you not hear our call?”
“We did,” said Fortenstar, “But I didn’t take it for a warning. I thought we’d secured the area, but they—Asos, show him what they used against us.”
Asos gently handed the casing to the Aerolus, who inspected it with care.
“I am General Weylan Fortenstar, and this is Gabrel Caladen, Captain and ambassador. It is imperative that we speak with your Sage.”
“I am Arcturus,” said the Aerolus, formally. “The Passes are dangerous. These blasted bombs are laid throughout. Some are even more perilous than this one.”
“How’s that?” Gabrel asked.
“They hover waist-high, with a veil spell around them. They cannot even be seen. When you get too close, they explode. It’s a sodding mine field—this place.”
“Did Daro place them himself?” Fortenstar asked. “We’ve not heard he’s left the Adorcenn Tower since attacking Caleton.”
“Doubtful he journeyed to lay them here,” said Arcturus. “More likely, he forged them, and imparted them to his minions. They armed them, then waited for victims to pass through. Yet another attempt of his to ravage this road. We’ve cleared a path—we will escort you safely to Valea. But, Light of Heavens, we tried to warn you.”
“You could see us?” Gabrel asked. “From that far away?”
“We can see for miles. As for this dreadful thing,” he lifted the casing, “our Sage, Saléus, can dispose of it safely.”
“Could you see any more demons lurking, from the skies?” Fortenstar asked.
“No, but we shouldn’t linger. And now comes the harder truth. You should abandon your infected men. The kindest thing would be to end their suffering now.”
“I have the Celestial Blaze,” Gabrel said to the Aerolus’s surprise. “I can heal a few at time, between restings.”
“How many are injured?” Arcturus asked. The infected stepped forward.
“God, that’s—” Fortenstart counted, “One-fifty, at least.”
“One hundred and seventy-two,” Arcturus informed him. “You cannot save them all.”
“Do you have any Tears of Life?” Gabrel asked.
“We’ve been without for some time.”
“It’s my fault,” said the General. “I led us straight into it. They’re right, Caladen. Most of us are dead already. We will see you as far as we can. Heal what you are able, but when we fall to the ground—and we will—you will leave us to die.”
“I can’t let that happen,” Gabrel said, eyeing the General’s wound. Think, he thought to himself. What would Kade do? She’s clever as they come. She’d know. She’d know a way. How can I heal them all? Blast it, I wish I hadn’t given the Tears of Life to that damned healer.
He remembered the eve of his training, on the way to Estimus. Kade talked of filling weapons with magic, using Fury creatively, and—
An idea came to him.
“If you were infected in the blast,” he called out, “remove the Primen teeth from your skin—if you haven’t already.”
“What’s this about?” Fortenstar asked.
“Gather ‘round me, all of you,” Gabrel said. “If you weren’t harmed in the blasts, step back and make way for the others.”
“What are you doing?” the General persisted. “Trying to heal us one at a time?”
“No. I’m going to heal everyone at once,” Gabrel said. “Or try to. I can pass magic into another person, but I think I can send it into everyone if we’re all connected.”
“Connected? How?”
“By Fury,” Gabrel answered.
“By Fury?!” the General stepped back. “You’ll fry our bones!”
“Well at least that’s better than the alternative, isn’t it?” Gabrel said bluntly. “Look, the Erygian Sage taught me how to do it. I can’t sit back and watch you or any of these men die. I don’t even know if it’ll work. But I have to try.”
“Oh buggar, just do it then,” said the General.
Gabrel unclasped his armor, exposing skin from the waist up.
“Everyone that can reach me, put a hand on my sk
in,” he said. “Everyone else, make sure you’re making contact with each other. We must all be connected.”
Men removed their gauntlets, their helmets and vambraces, and formed a web around Gabrel. Gabrel, himself, reached out and placed a hand on the General’s neck. When he filled himself with magic, no one stirred, nor could a single breath be heard on the breeze.
Gabrel felt the hands upon his skin. He concentrated on how he would send Fury into them, rather than at them. This could go very badly indeed, he thought. It’s just like the sword trick, he told himself. It’s just like the sword trick. It’s just like how I healed that man in Estimus.
“Whatever you do, don’t let go,” Gabrel said, unsure of what might happen if the bond of Fury was broken. He fed his magic into those around him, passing it from his body into theirs. Instantly, he felt them fused to him, electrified by Fury, like they were welded to his skin. The effect on the soldiers concerned them, as the sensation buzzed their bones and warmed their innards.
Gabrel knew from his previous experience in Estimus that he could fill one person with the Celestial Blaze, but it would drain him of all his energy. I think I can heal everyone who’s touching me, he thought. But I have no idea if it will travel from person to person, throughout the whole bloody lot of them.
When he looked to the soldiers around him, their faces pale with dread, Gabrel’s doubt gave way to sheer determination.
Alright, he thought, here goes nothing.
Chapter 23: Return
Without further hesitation, Gabrel poured the Blaze from every pore of his skin, into every fingertip that touched him. One by one, the soldiers’ mouths opened wide, and their bodies glowed pure white as the Celestial Blaze coursed through them.
The light filled the Silver Passes, reflecting as great beams into the overcast sky.
Gabrel couldn’t tell if it was working or not, so he drew a breath and sent a surge of magic from his body. His knees buckled, and he was taken to a knee. Like a ripple from a pebble dropped in water, then men around him knelt as well.
When Gabrel had nothing left to give, he released his magic and collapsed, panting feverishly.
The soldiers recovered slowly, but found their wounds cleansed.
“Did it—did it work?” Gabrel asked.
General Fortenstar couldn’t believe his eyes. “Aye,” he said. “Aye, it did.”
Gabrel’s head fell back in relief. “I can’t… heal your wounds. But the poison… should be gone.”
“Help me stand him up,” the General told Asos. They helped Gabrel to his feet, as Arcturus approached.
“By the Goddesses,” said the Aerolus. “I have never seen such a thing in all my life.”
“Me neither,” said Gabrel, barely able to keep his eyes open. “I need to rest.”
“We can’t stay here,” Arcturus said. “But your army can make camp at the foot of the mountain.”
“Okay,” Gabrel said. “Then, will you take us to your Sage?”
“Of course,” Arcturus said. “What would you ask of him, that you would risk such a journey to our realm? Do you wish to drink from the Fountain of Parsali?”
“Well, yes,” said Gabrel. “But I need to speak with the Goddess Teréyu. And to ask for your help. To join your forces with ours against Daro.”
The Aerolus’s head lowered. “I fear you will be disappointed, Gabrel Caladen,” he said.
“I’m used to it by now,” said Gabrel.
“Why would we be disappointed?” Fortenstar asked.
“We gave King Mercer everything at Caleton. The full force of our army and many civilians with a desire to fight. None returned, General. And we’ve suffered our own attacks of late.” He thumbed the dark orb’s casing, and motioned to the dead bodies sprawled about the passes. “Daro is relentless.”
“I’m sorry, what are you trying to say?” the General asked.
“Once, we were many,” said Arcturus, “spanning the skies. Occupying the mountains across the far reaches of the world. Now, naught but a few hundred remain—the last of our kind.”
“A few hundred!?” Gabrel blurted with what energy he had left.
“Yes,” Arcturus said. “We are all that’s left.”
* * * * *
Dexius rode through the wood, tailing his father’s army, waiting for the right moment to reveal himself. Had he joined them within hours of their departure—as he very well could have—he knew Hadaan would suspect him of leaving the Tower without permission. His arrival needed to be delayed, he realized—long enough to convince his brother that Daro reconsidered his decision, then permited him to catch the army up and join the ranks.
At a stream, Dexius dismounted, and let his horse drink.
“There you are,” he said, stroking its mane. Both stolen amulets hung around his neck.
A rustle in the trees above brought a tingle to Dexius’s spine. His ears perked, and snapping branches alerted him to danger. At once, ten Fated Ones landed in a circle around him.
“Hello,” he told them devilishly. His horse spooked and dashed beyond the demons’ boundary as Scapses landed just outside the circle.
“Prince Dexius,” said the Fated messenger. “It is by our Father’s orders that we should return you at once to the Adorcenn Tower.”
“Nonsense, I’m just out for a stroll,” Dexius said.
Scapses took note of Dexius’s appearance.
“Fully armed and armored?” he asked.
“A sword for protection, a bow for hunting. And knives should all else fail,” Dexius said, guarded, yet playful.
“You’re riding for battle on the army’s trail,” said Scapses. “Prince Dexius, please. This will be easier for all if you comply. Return with us.”
Dexius’s eyes narrowed, and his mood turned sinister.
“And if I should tell you to buggar off?” he asked.
“Then, by our Father’s orders, we will take you by force.” The circle of Fated pointed their spears at Dexius and took a step forward.
“Our Father’s orders,” Dexius said, placing a hand on the hilt of his sword. “Our Father.”
The Fated inched in closer.
“My Prince,” Scapses said. Dexius drew his blade and stood ready to defend himself. The circle of Fated paused, lurching low, stretching their spears closer to the dark Prince.
“Do not do this,” Scapses said. “Our Father—”
“He’s not your Father!” Dexius yelled. “You’re not his bloodson. You’re filth! All of you! You’re repulsive! And he would entrust you with his tasks over me!?” Dexius breathed angrily, his mind distraught. “I go to fight for him! To risk my life in his name! And he sends your sordid lot to drag me back, like some—like some misbehaved dog.” He gritted his teeth, and his knuckles rattled.
“To protect you, my Prince,” Scapses told him.
“NO!” Dexius yelled, and the Oblivion Flame erupted from his amulet. It spread, a fire of hellish red, disintegrating the circle of ten Fated. Their garb and weapons clattered to the ground as the magical flame dissolved.
Scapses fell back, his right arm missing, but his body spared, having stood just beyond the blast.
Dexius, racked by confusion, looked at the Amulet of Oblivion, then set his eyes on the lone surviving Fated One. Scapses crawled away, attempting to stand. In a flash of dexterity, Dexius dropped his sword, unslung his bow and fired an arrow, striking Scapses in the back.
He reached down and lifted his blade, scraping its tip across the earth as he slowly approached the dying demon.
Scapses gasped for breath, the Fated’s wings frantic as life drained quickly. It looked up at Dexius, incapable of comprehending his Prince’s betrayal.
“Tr-traitor!” Scapses yelled just before Dexius sliced its head clean off.
Daro’s youngest bloodson snarled, then eyed his blade. Black blood dripped from its dark metal. He surveyed the stream, littered with heaps of armor, ash spilling from them in the soft breeze. His horse
returned to his side and Dexius comforted it tenderly.
He looked back to Scapses’s corpse. Its wings spasmed and twitched.
Hadaan fought bravely, Dexius thought, and he was rewarded. He hacked away at one of Scapses’s wings and ripped it free, then dragged it to the stream and knelt.
Dexius lifted the wing to his back, as though it was his own, and proudly gazed upon his reflection in the water.
I will be rewarded as well, he told himself, marveling at the thought of Daro granting him flight. I will be like Hadaan. No, not like Hadaan, he thumbed the Amulet of Oblivion around his neck. Something far deadlier.
* * * * *
Ayden’s teeth chattered as she shivered, huddled in a ball in the corner of her frozen cell. She’d long lost track of time, and doubted the Marinean Sage had any intention of ever releasing her.
A flicker of light caught her eye, and she looked to the icy ceiling. It appeared to be melting—and quickly so—for drops of water sprinkled down upon her. In a matter of moments, the entire chamber melted away, drenching Ayden in the process, until all the walls were gone.
She blinked, and could not believe her eyes, for she lay inside what appeared to be an enormous bubble. The large room was like an empty core within a giant, watery sphere. Ayden instantly remembered sighting the aqua-colored orb from a distance. But she never realized just what it was, for in all the walls of water that surrounded her, thousands of Marinean spectators swam and watched, as though she was a criminal on trial.
She rose to her feet, and spun in a circle, discovering that she stood between Maryn and King Orbibaza—each seated upon a throne. She looked up, and saw light pouring in through a massive oculus.
“The Human Queen,” spoke King Orbibaza—a Marinean of such corpulence, Ayden wondered how he could possibly swim. “Welcome to Marinar.”
Though the surrounding walls muffled their commentary, the Marineans appeared to be bursting with laughter. Ayden shivered, as the air was freezing and her clothes were drenched. She knew she looked weak and demoralized—a once proud monarch, turned pitiful wretch.