He looked around and took notice of the empty road. Surely there would be at least a handful of people out and about by this time of day, wouldn’t there? He thought back to their escape from West Hotah and realized they’d had no problems navigating its roads either. He couldn’t recall a time in the past when that would’ve been true. There’d always been throngs of people in West Hotah to tend with.
Berggren stroked the side of the little girl’s face with his thumb. “Sorry, little one.”
“Niesha. My name is Niesha.” She squeezed his hand. “Was your daughter one of the infected?”
“No, but my daughter is… different.”
Niesha cocked her head. “Different how?”
Berggren sighed. “Not sure I could explain it in a way that you’d understand.”
Niesha let go of his hand and crossed her arms. Her eyebrows drooped over the bridge of her nose and her dried and cracked lips puckered. “I might still be young, but I’m no oaf. I’ve never been an oaf.”
Berggren snorted and raised his hands in submission. “Fair enough. Won’t hurt to give it a try I s’pose. Don’t think this’ll make sense, but she looks like a big cat right now.”
Niesha’s eyes grew wide. “Beige fur and yellow eyes?”
“You seen her?” Berggren leaned forward.
Niesha nodded wildly. She moved closer, cupped her hand around the side of her mouth, and whispered in his ear. “She was just here.”
Excitement filled Berggren’s chest and tightened his throat. He could hardly get out his next words. “You see where she went?”
Niesha pointed at a rickety old building on the opposite side of the road and a few doors down. “She went in there with the old which. They say no one ever leaves her house once they’ve entered. She hangs their bones on her walls like works of art and sews masks from their skin.”
Berggren doubted her words were true, but he still swallowed hard. He stood, clenched his jaw, and stormed toward the building.
No witch will keep me from my daughter or make wall art from her bones. Not this day or any other.
“Theyn!” He pummeled the door with his fist and took it straight off its hinges.
† † †
The door exploded inward, hit the floor with a loud smack, and slid several feet before coming to a rest against the far wall, scraping and grinding as it went. The series of events must’ve startled Berggren as well because he just stood in the doorway, his eyes wide and jaw slackened.
Nardus eyed the door and then Berggren. “That’s one way to make an entrance. Suppose you could’ve just knocked politely.”
Theyn rushed Berggren, tackled him to the ground, and licked his face.
Berggren wrapped his arms around Theyn. “Gods, it’s good to see you alive.”
Nardus picked up the door and examined it. It seemed to be in fairly good shape, all things considered. He leaned it against the wall and faced the old woman. “Don’t worry, Sorsha. We’ll fix the door before we leave.”
Sorsha shook her head with a smile and waved him off. “A large breeze could’ve knocked it over. I’ve been meaning to get it fixed for some time now. Timing’s just never been right.”
Nardus checked the hinges. “Looks like today might be that day. You will need some new hinges. We won’t be able to fetch those for you, but I’m sure we can scrape enough coins together to pay for it.”
Berggren got to his feet and entered the building. He had to turn sideways a bit to fit through the narrow entrance. He dipped his head. “Apologies, ma’am. Tend to get a bit excited when it comes to my daughter’s welfare. Swear I had it on good authority that you’d be eating her at some point soon.”
Sorsha’s hands moved straight to her hips. “Eating her? What gave you that idea?”
“I did.” A young girl stepped around Berggren and took hold of his arm. “Until confirmed or debunked, you just never know what to believe around here. Caution is a necessity.”
Sorsha cackled. “So it is, dearie. So it is.”
“In case you hadn’t realized it, that’s not Joriah you got on your arm.” Nardus pointed at the girl and smirked. “Several degrees cuter I’d say though.”
“Puppies are cute, but I’m a girl in case you hadn’t realized it.”
The girl’s got some sass. She reminded him of Shanara, or at least what he thought she would’ve been like at that age.
Berggren chuckled. “What she said.” He reached into the coin purse on his belt and retrieved two silver coins. He handed them to Sorsha. “Believe that will cover your troubles.”
Sorsha pocketed the coins. “Yes, and then some.” She winked at Berggren. “Feel free to break down my door anytime.”
“We need to get moving,” said Theyn in Nardus’s mind.
Nardus took Sorsha’s hand and kissed her knuckles. “I cannot repay you for what you’ve done for me, and I’ll never forget it.”
Sorsha blushed or so he thought. “‘twas nothing. A wizard needs nourishment to sustain their energy.”
Nardus stepped back, stunned. A wave of anger swept through him, curling his hands into fists. “I’m no wizard.”
“Of course you’re not, dearie.” She gave him a long wink. “And I’m no healer neither.”
What is wrong with these people?
“Nourishment you say?” said Berggren. “Wouldn’t happen to have an extra dose, would you? Got a friend in desperate shape.”
Sorsha raised a finger. “As a matter of fact I do. Let me fetch some for you.”
A good hour later, Theyn, Nardus, Berggren, Joriah, and Niesha arrived at the large grate blocking access to the rest of the sewer canal. Berggren carried Joriah over his shoulder, Joriah still unconscious. Once Nardus and Theyn traveled through the mirror Berggren would deal with Joriah and how to get the concoction Sorsha had made down Joriah’s throat.
Certain no one had followed them or lurked in the darkness, the four of them stepped right through the grate—an illusion of mezhik created to deter sewer dwellers and the like from stumbling upon the mirror room and potentially getting themselves killed or damaging the mirror. Beyond the grate, they took a left, right through the brick wall, and entered the small room with the mirror.
Nardus could see the pain in Berggren’s eyes. The big man didn’t want to let Theyn out of his sight again but knew he had no choice because he couldn’t travel through the mirror and survive. Nardus shouldn’t’ve been able to either, but something protected him.
No, Nardus must return to save Gnaud and Nasduron, and only he possessed the ability to keep Theyn from losing herself. So, Berggren would stay with Joriah and keep him alive. He didn’t have a clue as to Niesha’s role in everything, but he’d let Berggren work that one out.
The four of them said their goodbyes—Nardus relaying Theyn’s words to Berggren—and then Nardus activated the mirror portal by thinking of Galondu Castle and touching the mirror’s surface.
The mirror swirled and grew dark but nothing else happened. Nardus withdrew his hand, thought harder about their destination, and tried again with the same result.
Nardus turned to Theyn. “I don’t understand what’s hap—”
A hand clamped over Nardus’s mouth and pulled him through the mirror’s dark, cold surface. A voice whispered in his ear, “Keep quiet.”
Theyn lunged through the mirror after Nardus. Berggren stood in the room through the mirror, his face many shades whiter than normal. Niesha clutched Berggren’s arm. Berggren started to yell for Theyn, but the portal closed, and darkness surrounded them.
† † †
The beast’s yellow eyes glowed in the darkness, and its growl rumbled low like thunder. Wrik kept his distance from it, positioning Nardus between him and it as best he could in the dark. Wrik whispered in Nardus’s ear, “Calm your beast, or I’ll be forced to use mezhik to subdue it.” He moved his hand away from Nardus’s mouth.
“She resent
s the fact that you called her a beast,” said Nardus. “Release me, and she’ll think about not killing you.”
Wrik let go of Nardus. “She’s sentient then?”
“Of course she is. Why wouldn’t she be?”
“Follow me. We need to get out of this corridor before somebody stumbles upon us. I don’t want to have to explain what we’re doing together.”
“Lead the way.”
Wrik pushed one of the folds of his robes into Nardus’s hand. “Hold on to this until we get to an area where there’s more light. And keep your voice down. Sound travels far in these large, hollow corridors.”
They continued to talk quietly as Wrik led them toward the room where he kept Gnaud safe. Wrik glanced back at Theyn. She kept to the shadows between the sporadic areas of torchlight. Her features were striking, especially her yellow eyes.
Wrik peered around the corner at one of the corridor junctures. “Until now, I’d only gotten a brief glimpse of Theyn when the portal opened. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a cat like her before.”
“Well I’d imagine not, seeing as how she’s not a cat.”
Wrik stopped and turned on Nardus, his gaze sharp. “You specifically told me yesterday that Gnaud was attacked by a large cat.”
Nardus avoided looking Wrik in the eye. “Yes, well… I sort of lied to you yesterday. Not really lied exactly, but perhaps I didn’t disclose the full truth.” He shrugged. “I didn’t think it would make a difference.”
Wrik pursed his lips and waited for his anger to subside before he talked. “Are you really that dim? Everything matters when it comes to saving a life. You’d better tell me everything now, because Gnaud isn’t healing—even with the plant I retrieved from the elves.”
“Not healing?”
“No. I need to know everything.” Wrik started walking again. Thankfully, most of the castle was deserted since most of the soldiers were busy getting ready for war.
Nardus walked beside Wrik. Theyn followed somewhere behind, still in the shadows. “Suppose the correct term for Theyn would be a shifter.”
Wrik exhaled loudly. “A human shifter, I presume?”
“Yes. Does that make a difference?” asked Nardus.
I can feel Nasduron slipping through my fingers. All that knowledge wasted.
“Most certainly.” Wrik stopped and unlocked the door. “Humans carry all kinds of infectious diseases underneath their fingernails.” He ushered Nardus and Theyn into the room.
Nardus moved over to the couch were Gnaud lay and knelt next to it. “Then what can we do to save him?”
Wrik shook his head. “I’m afraid what you’re asking is next to impossible.”
Nardus glared up at Wrik. “You don’t know the half of what I’ve been through. Don’t you dare tell me that anything is impossible.”
“What you’ve been through makes no difference.” Wrik removed his spectacles and rubbed his eyes. “The only way to save Gnaud is to find a black level wizard with an innate ability to heal.”
Nardus stood. “Point me in the right direction. I’ll do anything to save Gnaud.”
“You may not like where this path will lead you.” Wrik wiped his spectacles and placed them back on his face. “You will never be the same again.”
Nardus rubbed his left bicep. “I’ve not been the same for the last thirteen years. No revelations in my life can change or devastate me further than what Pravus has already done to me.”
He doesn’t even know how wrong he is.
Wrik crossed his arms. Few things in life gave him more pleasure than watching prophecy unfold, but the chance of gaining access to Nasduron and its knowledge surpassed everything. If Pravus ever found out about him helping Nardus, he’d surely have a fight on his hands. He had no doubt he could take on Pravus, but now that fight wouldn’t just affect Pravus. Everything would affect Aria as well, and he could never raise a hand against her.
Yet I have no choice.
“So be it.”
† † †
“The Procerus Mountains?” Nardus paced along the couch. “Even if I do find the fabled home of the dragons what makes you think they’ll be willing to help me? I’ve dealt with a dragon before and narrowly escaped with my life.” He stopped and glared at Wrik. “You wish to send me to my death? Is that what this is?”
Wrik waved him off. “On the contrary, my friend. What good would that serve either of us?”
Theyn’s voice entered Nardus’s mind. “Don’t forget about the vision we had together.”
Nardus snapped at Theyn, “You think I could ever forget that?” He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you. Either one of you.”
“Think nothing of it,” said Wrik.
Nardus sat down on the couch. Fresh blood seeped from Gnaud’s wounds, and it reminded him of the dragon’s claw protruding from Theyn’s stomach. Two terrible paths stood before him. If he refused to go to the Procerus Mountains, he’d be damning Gnaud to a slow and painful death. On the other hand, if he did go, he’d be sealing Theyn’s fate. Separating himself from her would drive her back into a pit of madness but taking her with him would surely end her life. How could he choose either path? But he couldn’t sit there and do nothing.
Nardus slipped off the edge of the couch and onto his knees. He took Theyn’s furry face in his hands and touched his forehead to hers. He spoke to her with his mind. “Theyn, I must leave you here.”
Theyn pulled away from him. “That’s not an option. Either I’m coming with you or you’re not going.”
As he looked into her eyes, tears formed in his. “I cannot risk losing you.”
She licked his face and rubbed her cheek against his. “You and I both know that I wasn’t a cat in our vision, so there’s nothing to risk or fear.”
“I don’t know…”
“I do, and my decision is final. Pull yourself together and let’s figure out how we’re going to get there.”
Nardus nodded and wiped his eyes. He stood and faced Wrik. “The Procerus Mountains are what… 600 miles from here? Horseback will take a couple of weeks just to get there. I don’t think Gnaud will last another month.”
“I can keep him alive a few more weeks at best, but certainly not a month.”
Nardus brooded. “You know a quicker way of travel?”
Wrik grinned. “You’re not going to like it, but I think I have just the solution. Ever heard of a níʈfinzh?”
Dread rose in the bottom of Nardus’s stomach. “No, but it sounds like it involves flying.”
“Precisely, but it will cut your travel time down to three days.”
“How will Theyn ride anything in her current form?”
Wrik frowned. “I thought you said she was a shifter.”
“Technically, yes. However, she doesn’t know how to control it.”
Wrik rubbed his chin. “I think I remember seeing a book on shifters lying around somewhere. I will search for it while you’re gone. For the time being, that won’t be a problem. The níʈfinzh are large enough that they can carry Theyn in their claws. It won’t be as comfortable for her, but I’m sure she’ll manage.”
Nardus looked at Theyn. Her voice entered his mind. “We have no choice.”
Nardus leaned over Gnaud and stroked his cheek. “Hang on just a little longer, my furry little friend. I will do everything in my power to save you.” He straightened and walked over to Wrik. “And when I find this nest of dragons, what am I to ask them? Tell me how to find a black level wizard?”
Wrik’s eyes gleamed and his grin widened. “Ask them to help you find Cyrus.”
Nardus scoffed. “Cyrus? The wizard of legends? Isn’t he dead?”
Wrik patted Nardus’s arm. “Yes, but he may yet live again.”
Nardus turned and spat on the floor. “Mezhik be damned.”
“Indeed, my friend, indeed.” Wrik chuckled. “There are a few things you must remember
about the níʈfinzh. The first is that they can only fly for a couple of hours per day before needing rest and food. And the second is that they can only take you so far into the mountains. The altitude where the dragons are said to live is far beyond anything the níʈfinzh can handle. Remember that, and you’ll be fine. Also, be aware that they will not wait around for you. Once they drop you off you will be on your own. Understood?”
“Yes. Anything else?”
Wrik tilted his head for a moment. “I don’t believe so.” He swept his arm toward the door. “Shall we sneak our way up to the northern ramparts?”
“Lead on,” said Nardus.
As they made their way up through the castle, Nardus grew more and more apprehensive of what lay ahead.
Flying. Dragons. Theyn. Resurrecting a dead wizard.
So many things could go wrong, and something probably would. His history proved it. He said a quick prayer as they walked in silence, but he had little hope of it being answered. So, he turned to the one thing that had never let him down: Vitara.
My rock and my anchor; keep me grounded.
The irony of the last thought wasn’t lost on him, given where he was headed. In truth, only one question really mattered.
How does one resurrect a wizard anyway?
Chapter Twenty-Two
Alderan wandered the castle aimlessly, looking for nothing in particular. He encountered few people in the corridors and thought it strange, but he had no knowledge of how many people resided within the castle walls. For all he knew, it could’ve been normal.
He’d traversed so many stairs that he’d lost count by the time he found himself waking out onto the southern rampart. A cold wind swirled and whipped his hair in his face. No matter how many times he swept it back or which direction he faced, his hair found its way back into his face. He finally gave up fighting it.
To the south, far below, sat the town of Atrum Moenia. Torchlight lit up several sections of road through the town but seemed to have no pattern to it. He wondered if some of the other torches had simply blown out or if some other explanation existed. Perhaps he’d explore it further tomorrow evening.
Rended Souls Page 24