“Look out, General!” Kamarine shouted in warning.
A red blast of energy left the sorcerer’s hand like a screaming meteorite and engulfed General Corbett where he fought. The leader of the Resistance then dropped to the floor of the balcony bathed in fire.
Steve stared stunned, unable to believe his eyes, and felt his rage swell within him at the sight. He looked to Azinon with pure hatred in his eyes. “You bastard!” he cried. With the crystal singing in his ears, he raised his hand and white-hot shards of electricity lanced out from his fingertips. The shards merged in the air beyond his hand into a single bolt of lightning and struck Azinon full in the chest to launch him screaming into the far wall a hundred feet away.
Steve stalked forward and raised both hands toward his enemy, hate seething from his eyes as he summoned the elemental power once more. General Corbett had done well to distract the archers on the left side, and Kayliss even better on the right, but no one marred the ranks of those directly ahead and above the young wizard. One such archer drew back and loosed, striking Steve in the chest near his heart and knocking him to the marble floor. Kayliss roared as the young man’s pain registered in his mind and he bowled over another redcrest in fury. The great tiger sunk his fangs into the screaming man’s temple and snapped his neck with a vicious jerk.
Down below the thudding upon the doors stopped, prompting a confused look from both Haze and Rabal, as the guards had been near to breaking into the melee. Then the doors flew open under a tremendous blow, hitting and throwing the warriors back with the force of it. Haze, Lojur and Rabal immediately rolled to their feet with weapons drawn as two Jalkoras stalked screaming into the chamber.
The three backed away with their weapons held defensively before them even as two score guards poured in from the left and right behind the towering creatures.
“Kill them!” Azinon rasped from the far side of the room. He was on his hands and knees, his face bloodied and the front of his shirt smoking as he tried to summon the strength to stand. “Kill them all!”
The Jalkoras rushed to the attack with a terrible cry. Haze, Lojur and Rabal tensed to meet the charge and then vanished in a broad plume of blue light. A moment later, Kamarine disappeared, and then Kayliss was gone.
Steve lie on his back, tasting blood, the sound of his own weakening heartbeat drumming in his ears. Pain wracked him as he drew himself up onto his left elbow and managed to focus on the scene around him. Power answered his call and his sword skittered across the floor to his waiting hand. Steve’s fingers gripped the hilt of his blade and he slowly, painfully, crawled in the direction of the sorcerer. One thing was certain: if he had to die, he was not going alone.
And then there was light…
falling…
darkness…
Chapter XVIII
“Staring out the window will not bring him back any sooner, Your Highness.”
Princess Vessla, wearing the same blue, close-fitting woven flight suit as her fellow Jisetrian, but highlighted at the cuffs and V-neck with gold filigree, turned toward the sound of Eegrin’s voice. She smiled, appreciating his effort to comfort her.
“I am just concerned,” she said. She cast her eyes out across the vast emptiness of the camp, now looking like a ghost town compared to the bustle of activity only twelve hours prior, and sighed deeply. “Despite what you think, it is not only for Steven I worry,” she explained. “He said something to me earlier and it has bothered me ever since.”
Eegrin grabbed another chair and turned it around, straddling it with his arms resting on the chair back. “Perhaps I can help,” he offered. “What did he say?”
Princess Vessla remained quiet for a moment and then turned in her seat at the window to face him, feeling it could hardly hurt to talk it out. “Have you ever thought,” she inquired, “that maybe the races have been unwise to remain divided against the Dark One?”
Eegrin exhaled through pursed lips, puffing his cheeks out and looking every bit reluctant to weigh in on matters so high above his station. “To answer that is to pass judgment upon the decisions of my king, Your Highness.” He shook his head. “It is not my place.”
Princess Vessla smiled with a slight tilt of her head. “Eegrin, your loyalty to my father is commendable, but I know you have a mind of your own. You have my word whatever you say will not go beyond these walls. I only ask for your honesty.”
He still looked uncertain, but obliged his Princess cautiously. “I have…had my doubts, yes.”
Princess Vessla nodded, this knowledge affirming her own thoughts on the matter. “As have I, but it seems the humans are the only race who wish to form an alliance with any other.”
“They are the only ones actively opposing the Dark One,” Eegrin shrugged. “Truth be told, given the reticence of the other races to provide aid, it is good fortune the two Powers of Mithal are then also human.”
“Yes,” Princess Vessla agreed. “But good fortune is not what will save us. I think perhaps my father has not thought things through entirely. The humans have been hit as hard as any other by the plague, and yet they are the only ones actively seeking to put an end to the sorcerer widely believed to be the root cause of it. If they are defeated, Azinon will surely come for us and the other races, and none of us have the aid of a single wizard as powerful as Steven or Haldorum.”
“It does seem the most likely scenario,” Eegrin agreed. “If the Resistance is defeated the Dark One can pick off the remaining races, subjugating them one at a time, no longer concerned about an enemy that can appear and disappear with the suddenness of a portal. He could throw the whole of his might against any of the other races without fear of leaving his rear unguarded.” The young Jisetrian shook his head at that. “It saddens me to say this but, without the humans, Azinon has the advantage over every remaining race in both troop strength and magic.”
Vessla did not say anything for long minutes, quietly contemplating her own thoughts before the window in silence, sometimes smiling as she crafted her plan. Seeing that smile, Eegrin’s brow furrowed.
“Your Highness,” he said wary, “I know it is not my place to advise, but in the short time I have served you I have come to know that look very well.”
“Why, whatever do you mean?” she replied with a coy bat of her lashes. Her practiced look of wide-eyed innocence was an artwork of near perfection.
“If you are thinking about proposing an alliance,” he said, “you might wish to reconsider.”
“Reconsider?”
“Yes. Think, Your Highness; you may be meddling in the web of destiny itself. Never mind the near-impossible task of convincing your father to ally himself with the humans but—for the sake of argument—let us say you succeed. Such an action could very well infringe upon that part of the prophecy that speaks of my friend, your betrothed.”
“Eegrin, I am sure you have no idea what you are talking about,” Princess Vessla replied. “I am merely thinking of having a little talk with my father about the wisdom of his past decisions. And if he should somehow happen to be convinced of the mutual benefit such an alliance between humans and avians would entail, well, I would certainly leave all the details of such an arrangement to my fiancé, thereby facilitating the role the Great Wheels of Destiny planned for him all along.”
“And I am sure,” Eegrin added not-so-hypothetically, “you would never think to use your engagement to the Third Power as leverage to influence your father’s decision about said alliance.”
Princess Vessla smiled sweetly, “I cannot say the thought has not crossed my mind. Oh, do not look at me that way, Eegrin! My father cannot possibly hope to remain neutral when his future son-in-law is such a prominent figure among the humans.” When the young soldier did not reply, she looked again out the window, her mind made up to speak to her father at the first opportunity. It was then she spotted Sonya’s familiar form walking alone in the jousting fields. The princess’s sharp eyes focused and zoomed in across the distance
—another avian trait differentiating Jisetra from humans—and could see it in the young woman’s walk, and in the way she held her head, something deeply troubled her.
“I feel the need for some fresh air,” Vessla said as she opened the window. “And perhaps a bit of exercise as well.” With that she stepped back a few paces and then ran forward, diving through the open space. Vessla spread her wings in the open air as she cleared the frame and caught the morning breeze with the grace of a swan.
Eegrin moved to the window and watched her as she climbed higher into the air. He smiled when she turned and flew in the direction of the jousting fields.
“Sonya!” Princess Vessla called down.
Sonya raised her eyes to her Jisetrian friend circling high above her and waved. The princess pulled her wings in close and dived out of the sky, pulling up at the last possible moment, beating the air with her fiery red wings before finally settling down to a gentle landing.
“It must be so wonderful to be able to fly,” Sonya commented with a smile.
Princess Vessla folded her wings neatly across her back. “It does give one a magnificent sense of freedom,” she agreed. “But when you have had this kind of freedom all of your life it is easy to take for granted.”
The two of them turned and walked together amongst the scarred grass and clods of earth tossed about by the galloping hooves of war mounts.
“Are you all right?” Vessla finally asked. “You seem a bit preoccupied.” Then before Sonya could reply she said, “It is Steven, is it not?”
“I must have a sign on my forehead,” Sonya said ruefully. “Yes, I am worried about Steve. It’s not as though that should be so…” She covered her face with her hands and shook her head exhaustedly. “I’m sorry. I’m just so tired—and nearly sick with fear.”
“Are you going to be all right?”
Sonya gave a soft, sad little laugh. “I’ll be fine. I’m here, after all, and not out there.”
“You really shouldn’t worry yourself so,” Vessla said touching her on the shoulder. “Steven is probably the strongest Power our world has ever known. He will be all right.”
“How can you be sure?”
The princess looked down at the grass as they walked and rubbed at the tension in her brow. “I cannot, really,” she admitted. “My own talent allows me only to see the past. I have tried to show this ability to Steven but he still pushes me away.” The princess afforded a sad little smile. “I do not think he trusts me yet.”
There was a sound then in Sonya’s ear like the breeze, but whispering almost like speech. She turned startled but found no one there.
“What is it, Sonya?” Princess Vessla asked.
“I thought I heard…” She fell silent for a few moments, listening, and then finally shook her head. “I must be losing my mind.”
“Oh, I doubt that. You are one of the sanest people I have ever met. But I must say, you have been running yourself ragged these last few days.” Vessla suddenly beamed then. “I know! What do you say you and I take a couple of the remaining horses and just spend the next few hours riding?”
Sonya was looking in another direction and did not appear to have heard a word the princess had said.
“Hello? Are you still with me?”
Sonya turned back, suddenly realizing how rude that must have seemed. “Oh, I’m sorry, what was that?”
“Never mind. You really should get some rest, you know.” Princess Vessla then turned and spread her wings. “Try to get some sleep,” she said taking to the air.
Sonya watched her go and she wished it were only that easy. She heard the whisper again for a brief instant, a voice like wind rushing through the trees, and this time it left a shadowy imprint that faded almost as quickly as it had come.
She looked around. Nothing.
For everyone the day passed with drudging slowness. Even the sun overhead appeared to labor through the heavens. Only a gentle breeze brought the remaining inhabitants of Shallows Crag any solace, keeping the air fragrant and inhibiting its turning oppressive with the heat. Despite its trudging, seeming listless passage through the sky, the blazing sphere did finally drop below the western peaks of the Crag and the cool of night fell invitingly upon them all. It was especially welcome to one young man. Scott had always loved the night, even as a little boy. Now, several hours into darkness, it offered him a chance to walk alone and think about anything and everything on his mind. Turning his thoughts to anything else at all would help to ease the worry he felt for his friend and the rest of the Resistance. Of late, it seemed as though anxiety was a staple for them all.
“Scott?”
The youth turned at the sound of his name, and there behind him was very last person he ever expected to see within the protective cliffs of the Resistance’s sanctuary.
“Kurella?”
The young wolf-girl ran toward him and Scott met her halfway, catching her full in his embrace and feeling both a mixture of relief and longing for her. Realizing the danger she put herself in by being here, he quickly pulled back and checked if anyone could see them, but the area designated for the officers’ tents was devoid of nearly all life and provided ample cover.
“How did you get in here?” he asked.
Kurella kissed him and laughed. “It was easy! There are so many of your soldiers gone I just—” She kissed him again, long and passionate. It was nearly a full minute before their lips parted. Kurella smiled mischievously then and asked, “How is your back?”
Scott grinned and his eyes sparkled. “Just promise me you’ll cut your nails.”
Kurella laughed and kissed him yet again. “I promise, but first you must tell me what is happening? Usually it would be impossible for me to sneak into this camp. Where did everyone go?”
“They’ve gone after the Emperor. Haldorum, Steve—all of them. In fact, the fighting has probably already started.”
“But why then are you still here?” Kurella asked perplexed.
“Well you can bet it’s not because I want to be. Steve asked me as a favor to stay behind for our other friend, Sonya.” He then shrugged. “He just wants to be sure she doesn’t wind up alone.”
Kurella slightly tilted her head at this. “The Third Power does not sound too confident about their mission.”
“That does seem to be the general consensus,” Scott lamented. “I’m sure he’ll be fine, though,” he finished, sounding less than convincing even to himself.
An awkward silence followed in the wake of that statement and then finally, to break the silence, he offered, “So does this mean I’m going to get to introduce you to my parents?”
Kurella smiled slightly, casting him a curious look. “It is a custom on your world?”
“Well…yeah, you could say that.”
Kurella’s smile faded and she suddenly seemed very sad.
“Hey,” Scott said softly. He lifted her chin until their eyes met. “Did I say something wrong?”
She shook her head. “It is not you. It is my father.”
“Gouroth?” Scott remembered their brief conversation about the werewolf clan in the forest, and how the spirit of the wolf ran strong within Gouroth, Kurella’s father and leader of the wolves.
“Yes. Ever since I came of age, he has worried—quite loudly at times—about my apparent lack of interest in taking a mate. And now, finally, I have found one and I cannot show him. No, I cannot even let my father know about you!”
“Why?” Scott asked. “I don’t understand.”
“You are a human, and I am a werewolf. Scott, it is bad enough we want to be together, but if my father were to find out you were my first he would come to take your life himself. I could not bear it!”
Scott blinked. “Hold on a second,” he said. “You mean to tell me that… well… You know, you never… I was, uh, your first? I mean your first first?”
“Yes. Why do you seem so surprised?”
“Well, I just thought that… I mean the way you�
��” Scott was making odd gestures with his hands as he spoke but only succeeded in embarrassing himself. Finally, exasperated, he said, “You said something about your father wanting to kill me?”
Kurella smiled only briefly at his clumsy shift. “Yes,” she replied. “My father very much despises the humankind, and you would not stand a chance against his wrath.”
As much as it wounded his pride to admit it, she was right. An eighteen year-old human with a few weeks of combat training wouldn’t be much of an adversary for a werewolf—especially against the strongest of them all. The image alone of the man in his altered state sent shivers down the youth’s spine.
“There has to be a way to get around this,” he said dismissing the thought from his mind. “Kurella, I don’t want to lose you—especially since I’ve only just found you. There has to be a way to do this.”
The young wolf-girl looked reticent, and somehow fearful, clearly worried to voice her thoughts. Her eyes met his and she chewed her bottom lip anxiously. “There is one way,” she admitted hesitantly.
Startled shouts in the distance reached their ears across the quiet camp. Over the tops of the tents they glimpsed flashes of royal blue light shooting upwards into the night, illuminating the sky like lightning. Scott knew what kind of portal blazed and dazzled like that, and Haldorum only used it in emergencies.
“Come on!” Scott said taking her hand, and together they ran toward the commotion.
Sonya walked alone in the field and then suddenly gasped, falling to her knees as though stricken. She reflexively clutched at the left side of her chest as the sharp, stabbing agony overwhelmed the pain center of her brain. From all around she heard the ringing clash of swords and the terrible cries of inhuman beasts.
And blood!
The blood of the dead pooled on the floor and dripped down the walls from the semi-circular tier above. Kayliss’s enraged roar echoed in her mind; and a body fell screaming, landing with a sickening thud on the hard marble. She was breathing through her teeth now, her left hand gripping the grass beneath her but in her mind’s eye all she could see was a room of madness and death. Sonya pulled her hand away from her chest and stared terrified by the blood smeared across her fingers and palm. The worlds flashed back and forth and made her head spin. One moment she was in the field, and the next she was bleeding to death on a hard marble floor, and then back again, switching back and forth like some dream gone mad. Within herself she felt…something. It swelled and amassed power like an oceanic tidal wave headed for shore. The sensation terrified her for the strangeness of it, an alien thing she never—no! She had felt it before! But the last time she felt that overwhelming mystical energy flooding through her she had awakened in Steve’s arms.
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