Steve slew another of the hairy beings and chanced a quick look behind him. There he saw Sonya and Vessla, both weaponless.
Protect them! he thought desperately.
The four grileden skidded to a halt with defiant shrieks as a great tiger appeared before them, snarling savagely and blocking them from their prey.
Haldorum moved like a man half his age, striking one of the two creatures he faced with the magically charged metal of his staff. Electrical shards of energy sizzled the air and the beast dropped in a charred, smoking heap. The old wizard then extended his hand and the other vanished into a sudden portal that opened beneath it. Far away, the savage creature exited onto a rocky outcropping in the Valley of the Harpies. Haldorum smiled, his eyes reflecting grim satisfaction.
The numbers of grileden lessened visibly as the tide of battle finally turned. Exhausted of arrows, Lurin had dropped his bow and now fought with sword in hand with two of the creatures already dead at his feet.
Kayliss appeared at the forefront of the diminishing battle with bloody claws and four dead grileden in his wake. He stalked around to the rear of the remaining combatants, making no apparent effort to disguise his movements. Their numbers now less than fifteen, with enemies in front and behind, the last of the grileden scattered like fireflies with howls of anger echoing in the night.
Scott, winded and sweating and full of adrenaline, pumped his fist into the air with a triumphant, “Yes!”
Kayliss bounded after them and Steve knew it was to harry the creatures and make sure they harbored no thoughts of return.
“Somebody help us!” Vessla cried.
Everyone turned and saw the princess with a bloody arrow she pulled from a dead grileden held in her hand like a dagger and standing protectively over the still form of Sonya. Sonya’s eyes were closed and three thin lines of blood welled from the scratches on her neck.
In moments Steve was there, cradling her head in his hands. “Come on, Sonya, open your eyes,” he said desperately. “Open your eyes for me.” He shook her once, and then again, but still she did not move. His heart sank even as he took her in his arms and buried his face in her hair. “Oh, God, please don’t let her die,” he prayed. “She’s not even supposed to be here.” He hugged her tightly as though the warmth of his own body could hold the life inside of her.
“She moved me out of the way,” Vessla said, tears streaming down her face. “She fought to save me.”
“She still has a few hours,” Haldorum said quickly. “But we must get her to the Resistance before it is too late.” He paced out of the lee of the stone outcrop and into the open, and then touched his index fingers and thumbs together. To the others he said, “Haze, Scott, grab the packs. Lurin, we need a stretcher.”
Steve could not hear the voices around him. His thoughts centered on the one person he held in his arms, his concentration on the life fading before his eyes. He knew this was it. This was his test; and he must not fail.
A strange, eerie sound filled the air and drew Haldorum’s attention from the gate he was but moments from conjuring. A sound like a wind chime made from a thousand shards of glass, a whisper of volume growing louder until it filled the night along with a light that shined against Steve’s chest like a keyhole to the sun.
“What is he doing?” Scott whispered.
Haldorum turned from his task, eyes wide. “Learning,” he breathed. “Fulfilling his destiny.”
Steve exhaled slowly as he released himself into Sonya’s being. He needed to do more than just take control, he had to be subsumed by her. Only then could he counter the harm wrought by the poison in her veins. He moved slowly, cautiously inward. This new ground he tread filled him with trepidation, for he knew any rushed action might well hurt her as much as heal.
He closed his eyes then and felt himself drifting in an endless void. He floated forward by the power of his own will, reaching deeper into the dark, following an invisible path revealed by his second sight—a gift he had never before been aware of.
But there was something more; something strange taking effect.
Steve could feel a growing potential of swirling magical energy, a force pressing in from all around and growing in intensity. Steve projected his will toward the vortex in an effort to quell the power threatening to spill over into his efforts to save his friend’s life. He could ill afford the distraction but at the rate this power was intensifying it could very well overwhelm him.
Leave here.
Steve hesitated, recognizing the voice as the same consciousness that helped him cast the spell of animation. This other entity had helped him then, even saved his life against the Shangee, but could he take the chance it meant to save Sonya as well?
All will be well.
He did not know how but the very words of this being conveyed a certainty of truth.
It took only an instant to withdraw from Sonya’s still form, but the light of the crystal continued to pulse against his chest. He could feel the steady rhythm of magic thrumming through Sonya’s unmoving body, pulsing like a heartbeat and shifting within as though alive. Sonya’s brow furrowed slightly then and a soft whimper escaped her lips as her breathing quickened. Still holding her, Steve took up her hand and she clamped down unexpectedly. Every person stood transfixed, every second ticking by in slow motion as they watched the soundless battle take place within the young woman. Steve held her—it was all he could do—and he swore if she did not revive he would never forgive himself. Not ever.
The muscles in Sonya’s face relaxed and her breathing slowed to a calm and even rhythm. Her eyes flickered open then and took a moment to focus on the relieved, smiling face looking down upon her. “Is everyone okay?” she asked wearily.
“Us?” Steve laughed in relief. “What about you? How do you feel?”
Sonya reached up to touch her neck but Steve stopped her. “I don’t think you want to be doing that,” he advised.
She smiled and instead placed her hand on his shoulder. “Help me up.” She rose to her feet a unsteadily before glancing about in the near darkness at the dead bodies of grileden lying all around. “So we won?” She asked.
“Only because you lived, my dear,” Haldorum replied. “Had we lost you it would have been hollow, indeed.” Smiling to Steve he said, “Congratulations, my boy. You are progressing much faster than I could have dreamed.”
“But I didn’t—”
“Let’s have a look at your neck, Sonya,” Lurin interjected. “Haldorum, can you afford me some light?”
The old wizard tapped one end of his staff on the ground and the other end burst forth with phosphorescent light. The woodsman moistened a cloth with one of the water skins and dabbed at the lines of blood on Sonya’s neck. A start of surprise escaped his lips and he said, “Wizard, you must have a look at this!”
Haldorum approached and then a slow smile spread across his face. “I should have expected as much.” Lurin wiped away the rest of the blood and exposed the young woman’s unmarred flesh beneath.
Sonya reached up and touched her neck. “I’m all right?”
“Thanks to our young wizard,” Haldorum replied, clapping Steve on the back. “It seems he learns more with every passing day.”
Steve opened his mouth to speak but found himself without words. He replayed everything in his mind, trying to make sense of the miracle that saved Sonya’s life. The magic was not his own, of that he was sure. Then what of the voice? Who was it and where did it come from?
Exactly who, or what, is the Third Power of Mithal?
Chapter XI
The light from the fire played tricks with the shadows against the oppressing gloom. They flickered in the dancing illumination like ethereal marionettes under a cloud-covered sky. All about there was stillness in the forest, save for the occasional owl’s hoot or a rodent’s nocturnal scampering in the underbrush. And most likely, Steve thought as he sat feeling alone in the silence, that was how it would stay. Haldorum seemed quite sure
of himself when he said nothing would come within his spell of protection, a spell the old wizard said he could not have used before since the grileden had already encroached within its radius.
The party thought it best to make camp in the semi-shelter of the rock outcropping and—truth be told—not many were in any shape to continue the march in full daylight, let alone a trek in the darkness. Perhaps Lurin or Haze, but the rest of them were just plain exhausted—Sonya especially so, as whatever strange magic had healed her seemed also to have taxed her strength as well.
And just what had healed her?
Steve ran the question repeatedly through his mind but came up snake eyes every time. So many questions remained unanswered about this whole affair of magic—not to mention First, Second, and Third powers—that Steve could only ball his fist in frustration. To begin, who and/or what is the mysterious voice and why did it only speak to him? Surely, it was responsible for Sonya’s recovery, so it only made sense to think it linked somehow to the prophecy. The defining power of the Third is the ability to heal. There had to be some kind of connection he did not yet see.
And why was the fate of the Imperial Princess such a secret? Although it made a certain amount of sense, Azinon never mentioned anything about keeping the Imperial Princess as his bride, using her father as a bargaining chip as a threat against her good behavior. Yes, it made sense, but remained supposition.
I suppose it doesn’t much matter, anyway. Whether it was true or not the prophecy stated he must – if he was truly the Third Power – return the bloodline to the throne of Mithal; though how he would accomplish this task he had no idea. Azinon had already admitted to keeping the Emperor as his prisoner, so at least that much was certain; but first they had to discover a way into the dungeons to free him—and all without bringing the sorcerer’s armies down upon their heads as they did it.
Steve sighed, realizing he was putting the proverbial cart before the horse. There was no point in planning any of that until he had an idea just what kind of manpower and capabilities the Resistance had at its disposal.
He paused in his ruminations then and glanced in the direction of the two young women sleeping side-by-side. Since Sonya’s brush with death, something had changed in her relationship with Vessla. He wouldn’t exactly call them friends, per say, but the earlier bitterness between them was decidedly absent.
He let his gaze wander over the rest of the camp, their surroundings, and then inward to thoughts of all that had transpired up to this point. “Well, if nothing else,” he said aloud, “you’ve certainly come a long way from high school.”
He further wondered if things would ever be the same again.
The sky above cleared somewhat and the stars winked in and out amid dissipating cloud cover. A wind whispered through the trees from the east and Steve let it wash over him as he took in the sounds and smells along with it. The oncoming morning appeared to promise sunshine, which they could all use after the grueling day they’d had.
Living in this world, Steve thought, probably wouldn’t be so bad if not for the fact there were so many things in it trying to kill me. He threw another log on the fire and leaned back on his elbows as the wood crackled and hissed in the flames. Just then, a single, red-hot ember burst from the fire on a high arc with a loud pop. Steve raised his hand and the glowing ember stopped in flight and hovered in mid-air. The crystal around his neck thrummed against his chest with a low glow, singing almost inaudibly its shrill, eerie song. He swept his hand to the right and the ember floated back over to the fire and then dropped back into the flames.
“You make it look easy.”
Steve looked to where Sonya lay on her side looking up at him. “You should be asleep,” he said.
“I was for a little while. I woke up some time ago and now I don’t feel tired in the least.” She was silent a moment and then said, “Thanks for what you did back there. I mean, saving my life and all.”
He felt guilty that she believed him responsible, but he had already decided to keep the event to himself until he could puzzle out exactly what was going on. “I only did the best I could,” he said truthfully.
Sonya moved from her place beside Vessla to sit beside him. “So how much longer until your watch ends?”
Steve looked to the spot Haldorum had pointed to earlier. “See those trees?” Sonya nodded and he said, “When the moon crosses between them, Lurin takes over. About another hour I figure.” He then closed his eyes and leaned to the right, stretching.
“You okay?” Sonya asked.
He nodded. “Yeah, I’m all right. Took a head butt in the fight when one of those things piled into me. Just sore, is all.”
“Sit up straight.”
“Why?”
“Because I said so. Now do it.”
Steve suppressed his smile and obediently did as he was told. Sonya moved behind him and, reaching up beneath his tunic, went to work rubbing small circles on his lower back. “It helped back on Bareg’s farm,” she said.
Steve closed his eyes, drew his knees to his chest and rested his head on his forearms, letting Sonya’s hands perform a minor miracle. He jumped when she reached around to his sides and poked him.
“Sit up straight,” she scolded.
Steve did so, and was quiet for only a few moments more before asking, “How do you feel about all of this?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean everything that’s happened—just generally speaking.”
The corner of Sonya’s mouth quirked in silent question. “I tell you what,” she said. “Why don’t you narrow it down a bit and I’ll see if I can’t answer you.”
Steve carefully weighed his words. “I guess...well, what I’d like to know is...”
“Come on. Tell me,” she pressed.
Steve took a deep breath and turned around to face her with his legs folded under him. “What would you do if you were in my place? If this crystal had been given to you instead of me, would you throw everything away to come here?”
Sonya arched her brow and tilted her head as she considered the question. “That’s a tough one,” she admitted. She was quiet a few moments more and then finally nodded. “Knowing the way I am, I think so. But if I were you, no question about it.”
Steve looked perplexed. “Why do you say that?”
Sonya laughed. “Steve, ever since I’ve known you you’ve always been this starry-eyed adventure seeker with his mind wandering everywhere except where his body was. You couldn’t have known about this world before, but my guess is you’ve been living here since you were a little boy.”
Steve blushed in mild embarrassment. “I guess my head does drift into the clouds once in a while.”
“Gee, ya’ think?” she chided him.
“Well, it’s not like I get carried away.”
“Oh no? Remember that report in the tenth grade? You chose—not surprisingly—to do yours on the legend of King Arthur’s court. And when Mr. Davis told us he wanted at least five typewritten pages you showed up on the day it was due with—what was it—twenty?” They laughed together at that, careful to keep their voices low for the sake of the others still sleeping.
“Until now,” she told him, “you have only read about Merlin and the kingdom he helped to create. Here you are Merlin; and just like him you have the chance to make a difference.”
“You think I can do it?” Steve asked, his mouth quirked in uncertainty. In his mind there were still so many doubts, so many things that just didn’t make sense, enigmas he couldn’t resolve, and he feared the sum total to be insurmountable.
“Haldorum believes in you,” Sonya said. “And I believe in you, too.”
The two fell quiet, together listening to the crackle of the fire and the hush of the wind in the treetops. Steve looked to Sonya after a time and she to him. She smiled and a sudden, fleeting thought warmed Steve’s cheeks in embarrassment.
Everyone awakened to a cloudless sky and brilliant sunshine str
eaming through the trees from the east in golden bands.
“What a beautiful morning!” Vessla declared. “Have you ever seen its like, Sonya?”
“No, princess, I haven’t. But after last night I would be just as happy waking up to a hurricane.” They both smiled and Vessla proceeded to help Sonya roll up her sleeping furs.
Haze patted the armor plate over his stomach saying, “Tell me, woodsman, what has the king provided us for breakfast?”
“Bread and cheese,” Lurin replied, holding up a sample of both in his hands.
“What?” the warrior said with affront. “I have eaten far worse but expected better than mere bread and cheese from His Majesty.”
Princess Vessla looked pained by the news. “I can’t believe my father would supply us with such meager rations!”
“Easy, Highness,” Lurin said. “It was only at my insistence he provide us with such. Carting around unnecessary treats only makes for a bigger burden than its worth.” To Haze he said, “And you, big fellow, need to worry less about your stomach and more about getting us to the Resistance in one piece.”
“You’re beginning to sound like an old woman,” Haze muttered. Steve snorted at the remark and finished tying his furs into a roll, then wrapped them with a foul-weather cloth.
Lurin turned to Eegrin and said, “There is a stream not far off from here where you and the princess can fill the water skins. Bread and cheese can be a rough meal without something to wash it down.”
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