Touched at the level of trust his brother offered, Farrell chose his words carefully. “For this to work, we must think with one mind. It can’t be my mind or yours, for I can’t fly and you can’t do magic. We must join our minds and merge them together. Neither of us can take control of the union.
Do you understand so far?”
“Yes. Father taught this to us from the time we were hatchlings. It was how he taught us to fly.”
“Good. Once we’re joined I’ll show you my plan. But first I need to rest on your back.”
“That will slow us considerably. I’m not sure we’ll be able to outmaneuver our enemy if I am to carry you into this fight.”
“Fear not, I’ll not impede your mobility in the slightest. In order to fly, I make myself weightless to counter the effects of gravity.” Farrell moved lower, then matched his brother’s speed as he glided in a wide circle. “I’m going to land on your back.”
Farrell carefully closed the last few feet between them and gently settled in the broad area between Takala’s wings. “I’m on.”
“Truly?” Takala twisted his head until the two made eye contact. “Astounding. I don’t feel you.”
“I should hope not. I’d be a poor wizard if you did.” Farrell extended his mind and tentatively touched his brother’s. “Merge with me and let’s go hunt the hunters.”
The “pull” from Takala surprised him with its strength. Unlike the calm, ancient feel of Nerti’s mind he’d become accustomed to, Takala’s felt more active and younger. As their minds came closer, Farrell noted the controlled and logical way his brother thought. And overriding it all was a sense of absolute trust.
“Focus on flying, and I’ll handle the magic. If we don’t fight each other, it will feel like you’ve been a grand master wizard since birth.”
Before they flew toward the harpies, Farrell suggested they perform a series of twists and turns to test the strength of their bond. Without a word from Farrell, Takala moved in response to the thought as if Farrell had spoken the words.
Satisfied with their link, Farrell engulfed them in red-and-orange wizard fire. The energy surrounded them like a second, fiery skin. Not only would it deflect magic, it would burn anything it touched. Takala screeched, and a geyser of magic flames shot from his mouth. Connected as they were, Farrell noted how much the new talent pleased his brother.
“It’s time to take the fight to the enemy,” Farrell said as he showed his brother what he had planned.
Takala instantly changed course and used his powerful wings to thrust them higher. After he climbed several hundred feet, he leveled off and focused on gaining speed. Farrell separated his staff into two sections and knelt on Takala’s back. He swung the two halves to familiarize himself with the space he had to work with.
The first glitch in their union came when Takala wondered how Farrell would maintain his position once the fighting ensued. A complex and confusing magical explanation immediately appeared in their thoughts, causing Takala to stumble.
Farrell tightened his control of his thoughts “Easy, brother. Remember to focus only on your part of the task.” Their connection strengthened immediately as Takala redirected his attention to something he fully understood—flying.
A product of the first war between the Six and Neldin, harpies resembled a perverted combination of woman and raptor. The “female” portion looked anything but human. Feminine in only the barest sense, the faces of these creatures of Neblor displayed an insane, limited intellect that measured only slightly higher than a Chamdon’s. Farrell doubted their battle plan contained anything more complicated than attacking their target.
As they drew closer, Farrell heard the high-pitched screeching harpies made as they pursued their prey. Takala flexed his talons, banked his wings, and sent them hurtling toward the center of their enemies’ ranks.
Approaching from above, Takala belched a torrent of flames toward the densest part of the swarm. Dozens of harpies burst into flames and plummeted toward the ground. The intense heat turned the creatures into ashes within seconds.
The fiery peregrine plunged through the enemy ranks and waited until he’d cleared the last of them before he extended his wings fully. Takala used his momentum to push them higher and flapped hard to gain altitude. Farrell twisted and noticed several dozen harpies broke off from the main group to chase them.
Takala ignored the small cluster pursuing them and kept his focus on the larger group still trained on Nerti and the others. Although they could easily outfly the smaller creatures, Farrell didn’t like them following behind. Extending both arms, he cast a net of sizzling, flaming energy toward the enemy. He maintained a link long enough to feed it additional power. The net expanded rapidly and ensnared the single-minded harpies. Once the entire clutch had been captured, the lines of energy quickly contracted, silencing forever the noisy creatures inside.
Through their link Farrell could feel his brother’s exhalation as he shot flaming power from his beak. Protected as they were, Takala flew into the thick of their enemy, twisting and weaving so he could use the fire from his body to decimate their number. The harpies turned on the intruder, but their attempts to tear at the fiery peregrine only set them on fire. Farrell also created ribbons of red energy that he extended away from Takala. Between the two tactics, they created large gaps in the once-thick mass.
They cleared the enemy lines, and Farrell saw the remaining harpies had stretched out but still winged their way toward Miceral. Given their speed and numbers, Farrell didn’t see any chance of stopping them all.
“Ral? The pack is dispersing.” Farrell had to struggle to control his anxiety. “We won’t be able to contain them all. Have you reached a safe area?”
“Not yet, but Grohl has located an area where we can better defend ourselves. We are making for it now.” When Miceral paused, Farrell knew what was coming. “Are you coming back now?”
“Not yet. We’re still culling the herd. When we get closer we’ll—” The edge of Farrell’s senses tingled in warning. “Takala, drop down and bank left. Now!”
Chapter Five
The warning was unnecessary as Takala sensed the pending attack as soon as Farrell did. They dove through the remaining harpies, and once clear, Takala snapped his wings out and made a hard left.
Farrell reinforced their fiery second skin, erected a traditional shield over that, and made them invisible. “Keep going!”
Following his brother’s command, Takala renewed their rapid descent, pushing them far to the east of where they had been moments before. Farrell braced himself to keep their protection firmly in place as the sizzle of energy cut through the air. Had they not moved, they’d have been in the path of the massive blast of raw power.
When he glanced back, only a small number of harpies remained. They continued toward their goal, oblivious that the rest of their number had just been incinerated.
“Farrell!” Miceral’s shout startled him. “What just happened? Are you hurt?”
“We’re both fine, but someone hurled a formidable attack at us from far off.” He didn’t need to say who he thought flung that much power at them from hundreds of miles away. “Ask Penelope if she can trace its origin.”
While Miceral did as he asked, Farrell assessed their position. Takala had moved them far enough away from the blast zone that barely any residual energies reached them. Miceral reached out to him.
“Penelope said all she can gauge is that it originated from within Lourdria. She wants to know how you sensed it before it struck.”
“Tell her I’ll explain later. Right now I’m busy keeping Takala and myself alive.” He did not exaggerate. Penelope’s information contradicted all they knew about their enemies. If Meglar didn’t attack them, who did?
“Are you on your way back?” Each time Miceral asked, he hid less of his anger.
“No. We’re invisible now, and I’d like to wait a bit before I reveal ourselves,” Farrell said. Takala moved in a
wide arc north of the surviving harpies, intending to approach their companions from the east. “Ral, a few of the creatures escaped, and they’re still headed toward you.”
“We’ll take care of them. We’ve reached a small knot of trees, and Penelope is confident she can deal with the few left.”
“Tell her to be on guard for another long-distance strike. The harpies might be bait to distract her so our enemy can attack.”
“Wizard.” Nerti’s choice of words told him how serious she took their situation. “I have relayed your messages to Penelope. She understands.”
“Thank you.”
The flight back to the others left Farrell on edge. He and Takala chafed at not being able to help. Penelope didn’t need his help, but he still wanted— needed—to be there. To distract himself, he focused on finding the source of the attack. Given the angle of descent when it struck, he agreed with Penelope that the wizard who cast the spell did so from somewhere in the northwest area of Lourdria.
The taint of dark magic didn’t surprise him, but it confirmed his fears. Someone other than Meglar had sent the attack. Someone they had no information about and hadn’t factored into their plans.
Sharing Takala’s thoughts, Farrell watched through his brother’s eyes as the last few harpies closed in on Penelope’s shield. From the tree cover below, a steel javelin flew up and impaled one of the shrieking creatures. The others dove toward the spot of origin only to hit the protective dome. Upon contact with the shield, they burst into flames. The battle lasted less than a minute.
Takala circled for a few minutes while Farrell scanned the horizon for another attack. When nothing materialized, he decided they could rejoin the group.
“We’re coming in,” he told Nerti and Miceral, expecting they would inform Penelope.
They landed a few feet outside the shield. Farrell hopped off Takala’s back, removed the fiery energy, and made them visible. He waited until Penelope extended the protective barrier to include them before he dropped the shields around him and his brother.
Grohl glared at his brothers the moment they arrived. He blamed them for the events that denied him a chance to engage the harpies directly. Fortunately, he had found the others an ideal spot to make a stand. The trees in the small copse on the low hill grew close enough to each other that it would have been impossible for the human-sized harpies to reach them by air.
Farrell scanned the group and smiled as Miceral walked toward him. His good mood ended when he noticed the look on his partner’s face. Before Farrell could move, Miceral grabbed the front of Farrell’s shirt and hoisted him into the air.
“What in the name of the Holy Mother were you thinking?” Miceral yelled despite them being inches apart. “You said you were going to talk sense into your brothers not take on the entire swarm by yourself.”
Farrell’s face burned with a mix of anger and embarrassment. Even his ears tingled. He turned to avoid Miceral’s angry stare, but the others glared at him as if he’d flung them into a clutch of Chamdon without any weapons.
“Be glad he has you, Wizard,” Nerti said. “If I’d gotten to you first, I’d have stuck you in a most unpleasant place.”
Though it took some effort, Farrell reined in his anger and met Miceral’s gaze. “Can you put me down, please?”
Miceral’s eyes narrowed, but he slowly lowered Farrell to the ground. “You promised not to do anything reckless, and then you go and do something that makes Grohl and Takala’s plan look sensible?”
“They were harpies.” He held up his hand and scanned the other faces around him. “Linked as we were, they couldn’t have hurt us.”
“That’s another thing. You’ve never even tried that spell you used with Takala before today, have you?” Miceral shook his head before Farrell could answer. “Of course not. What would you have done if it didn’t work?”
“The enemy was still far off when we tried it. If it didn’t work, we would have come back.”
“What if it failed during your attack?” Nerti still looked ready to gore him. “You might have survived, but your brother would surely have died. You chided them for being juveniles, but then you join them in being an immature colt.”
“I had everything under control.” They weren’t going to listen, but he tried anyway. “Even if the spell failed, we were in no danger.”
“No?” Miceral asked. “What about the attack from far off? How do you explain that if you were in no danger?”
“I expected something—maybe not that, but something—and even if Takala hadn’t moved us away in time, we would have been fine. The energy around us would have protected us from harm.” At least he thought it would have.
“Despite what you think, you’re not indestructible.”
Farrell reached over and took Miceral’s hand in his. He slowly moved his thumb back and forth. “We fought harpies, not a pack of wizards. They posed no danger to us.”
“Are you telling me the attack fired at you posed no danger?”
“Of course not, but if it had hit us on the ground, it would have been worse.” He saw disbelief in Miceral’s face. “If you don’t believe me ask Penelope.”
Everybody turned toward the princess, who, much to Farrell’s relief, nodded.
“He’s correct. Trying to guard everyone is harder than just guarding himself and Takala. Plus, in the air, any attack would have less impact than if it hit us on the ground.”
“How does that work?” Peter asked. A twinge of guilt struck Farrell as he’d all but forgotten his friend was there.
Penelope turned and faced Peter. “It has to do with force and resistance. So long as his shields were strong—and they were, given Farrell knew they were heading into a fight—the blow wouldn’t be strong enough to overpower it instantaneously. Think of it like this. If you hung a leather waterskin on string and poked it with a sword, assuming the leather was strong, you’d merely push it along. But if you placed the skin against the wall and stabbed it, you’d pierce the leather. On the ground, our shields would be trying to repel all the force of the attack. Had we been fighting the harpies when it struck, it might well have taken us by surprise and killed us all—or at the least everyone but Farrell and myself, because we have personal shields that might have saved us.”
When he turned his attention back to Miceral, Farrell didn’t see the hoped-for reaction. He leaned over and kissed Miceral on the lips. “I know you don’t totally understand magic, Ral, but can you at least trust that I’m not going to do something that will leave you and the others unprotected?”
“I accept that you think you know what you’re doing.” Miceral finally smiled, a small one, but still better than the frown he wore moments ago. “So what happened up there?”
Farrell stepped back and sat on a large rock behind him. “Clearly the harpies were meant to distract us, but I’ve no idea who sent them.”
He turned toward Penelope, who shook her head. “I’ve no idea, either. Dumbarten’s intelligence service keeps tabs on wizards operating in Lourdria, but I don’t know of anyone powerful enough to send that kind of attack who’d want to assault me.”
“That assumes they knew who you are,” Miceral said.
Penelope’s face tightened. She remained distant for a few seconds until she blinked and shook her head. “No, I don’t think that matters. Whoever did this either meant to attack me, in which case they meant to attack Dumbarten, or they chose to attack four unicorns. None of the wizards I know in Lourdria would do either of those things.”
“I beg to differ, Princess,” Klissmor said. “Things change. Perhaps none wished to make Dumbarten an enemy in the past, but if they aligned themselves with Meglar, they might feel bold enough to act. Killing you would be a significant step toward defeating Dumbarten.”
“Killing me would be a blow, but not near enough to cripple Dumbarten. Our wizard corps is much larger and more powerful than any other kingdom’s. My death wouldn’t tip the balance to the point someone w
ould be emboldened to attack.”
“Which means what? That Meglar was behind the attack?” Miceral folded his arms across his chest.
Farrell shook his head. “It wasn’t him directly. The magic felt different. But he certainly had a hand in this. Harpies haven’t been seen in centuries and not in those numbers since the Great War. Who else but Neldin’s servant could have assembled so many?” He turned toward Nerti for confirmation.
“There have been random encounters, but Rothdin and his peregrines have hunted them down whenever they appear. A swarm this large is unheard of since Trellham fell.”
No one spoke, and Farrell left them all to their thoughts as he considered their next move. They still had days of riding to go and little-to-no cover along the way. He might be able to conceal the four riders, but not his brothers. Seritia’s conditions caused yet more needless problems.
“What now?” Miceral’s question broke Farrell’s concentration. Everyone focused on Farrell.
“We continue to Agloth. I’m just not sure how to safely do that now.” He spoke to Penelope. “I can keep us hidden, but Grohl and Takala are beyond my abilities.”
Penelope opened her eyes wider. “You think you can screen the four of us? All the way to Agloth?”
“It won’t be easy, but I can do it.”
She threw her arms up and let them drop so they slapped her thighs. “Do you have any idea the magnitude of what you’re proposing?”
“Yes.”
“Forgive me if I need more information before I trust our fate to just your word.”
Farrell clenched his jaw at Penelope’s condescending tone. Just because she couldn’t do something didn’t mean he owed her an explanation. With effort, Farrell tamped down his irritation so he didn’t insult her. “What more information do you want? If you don’t know how to do it, what good is my telling you what I’m planning to do?”
So much for not insulting her. Penelope glared at him, but before she answered, she turned her head.
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