The New Age Saga Box Set

by Timothy A. Ray

  “What now?” he asked the mage.

  Merlin was studying the room, eyes searching. He held up a finger, motioning for silence, then went to the table and began examining it.

  He watched him expectantly at first, then grew frustrated and bored. Had they traveled all this way, endured it all for nothing? Something stung his nose and he swatted at it absentmindedly. He started for Merlin’s side to find out what was so interesting about that old hunk of junk when he felt a pinprick on his cheek. Growling, he wiped his metaled finger across his face and felt something pull on his skin. What the hell? A small object bounced off his gauntlet and he jerked in reflex. It had been aimed at his eye. “What the hell is that?” he roared, pinching at his cheek and pulling. He felt his skin tug and when it finally released, he looked down at a small arrow clinched between his finger and thumb.

  “Ha Ha! Gotcha didn’t oi?” he heard a voice cheer. It was high pitched, and he had to strain to hear it over the increasingly violent wind. It had originated from the direction of the table and the mage was pointing at the bowl on the ground.

  Merlin kicked it aside and a little man was exposed hiding behind it. The size of the creature made his head feel dizzy, like he was standing on the castle walls looking down at a passing soldier on the grasslands below. The tiny humanoid stood a foot and a half off the floor, dressed in brown rags, with crazy brown dirty hair. He doubted they made brushes that size and wondered what diseases the little man carried. Had he just been poisoned?

  “Aw naw yer don’t!” the man yelped, leaping into the air and darting for the nearest chair leg.

  “Brownie,” Merlin growled, upending the table and sending it across the room.

  Now this was creature he had heard of.

  “Seriously?” the mage glared at him. “You’ve heard of these vermin, but not of me? What kind of crap is that? I need a better publicist.”

  He shot his companion a dirty look, then turned his glare to the cowering little man and began sifting through what little he’d read of them. Brownies were solitary creatures, roaming from farm to farm offering their help but expecting gifts daily in return. The day you dismissed or ignored them, they’d torture you by committing wicked offenses, making your life a living hell until either you found a way to drive them off—or they got bored. Now there was one firing arrows at his face; a fairy from one of his books come to life. He flung the tiny shaft across the room and thundered forward to flush the creature out.

  “That’s roi ‘uman! Fear me!” the little man yelled defiantly, spear thrust in the air.

  Merlin jabbed a finger at the brownie, then flicked it upward. The creature yelped and even though he resisted, was lifted into the air; where he hovered in front of the mage’s glaring eyes. Tristan could tell that the brownie was trying to throw his spear, but whatever force had been used to lift him, wouldn’t let him do that either. Finally, exhausted, he hung there like a hat on a rack, defeated eyes cast at the floor. “Sorry, Merlin.”

  “Now to him,” the mage commanded as if disciplining a child.

  “Sorry, ‘uman,” the creature muttered.

  “That’s better,” Merlin stated, letting the creature hang for his misdeeds. After a few seconds, he waved his hand and the brownie tumbled to the floor. The little man shrieked, but right before impact, his descent halted; saving him from being flattened. Just as quickly, he fell once more, but the brownie easily landed on his feet. “Now Bleak, you want to open the door, or should I?” Merlin waved towards the rear wall and waiting for a response.

  “She won’t be ‘appy ter see yer,” Bleak told them, staring daggers his way.

  Merlin raised a foot and let it hover over the little man.

  “Al’ roi, al’ roi, but don’t say Oi didn’t warn yer. She’s quite testy the-day!” The brownie turned away from them; cursing too low for him to hear. The wall began to shake, and he watched in awe as the boards began to retract upon themselves. A cave was quickly revealed, and his eyes were drawn to a faint glow in the distant reaches beyond.

  “Come on,” Merlin told Tristan as he lowered his head and started down the passageway.

  “Yeah, I’m coming,” he replied, eyes riveted on the little man below. He kicked his foot out and the brownie yelped and fled down the cave.

  “Feel better?” the older man’s voice echoed towards him.

  He snorted. “Not quite, but I’m getting there.”

  Merlin lit a torch he’d found fastened just beyond the entrance and the cave walls flared to life. With a look over his shoulder to ensure that he was following, he started towards the echoing screams of the fleeing brownie ahead.

  II

  She struggled her way upward and finally opened her eyes. There were flashes across the sky; a storm had begun while she’d been out. With no memory of where she was, she lay there for a moment and watched the lightening streaks with fascination. Such power, but what had released it? It had been clear skies that afternoon.

  Echoes of pain in her hand strained her ability to breathe and she gasped for air. She had flashes of dead loved ones reaching out for her; of evil laughter ringing in her ears. She had been lost in the darkness, the laughter swallowing her whole, then a white light had pierced her world and driven it back. Forces raged around her, but she’d been unable to watch and had curled into a fetal position. Her body had been enveloped in white light and she sought its protection against the source of that maniacal laughter.

  Her forehead was clammy, but her body felt soaked in sweat. Was it getting humid? She sniffed and found a hint of rain in the air. Her body felt wrapped; her arms pinned to the ground. Where was Tristan? Shouldn’t he be there when she woke? She tried harder to move her arm then realized they’d placed her in her bedroll and the blanket had been pinched beneath her ass. Dragging her left arm free, she reached out and felt for her fiancé; her fingers encountered dirt instead. Her heart ached, where was he?

  Brisk cold air pummeled her face as something wet struck her cheek; it was starting to sprinkle. “Tristan?” she called out weakly. She knew he wasn’t there, but she couldn’t help herself. Her mind would not allow the possibility that he would leave her behind. He would have had to have be forced to leave; there could be no other explanation.

  She heard movement and traced the sound, trying to lift her head. The weakness that filled her didn’t allow more than a few seconds for a quick glance. Lightening flashed once more, and the staggering white hair was hard to mistake.

  Kylee knelt by her side and placed a hand on her forehead, smiling. “You’re awake.”

  “Where is he?” she croaked, struggling once more to sit up.

  The older woman shook her head. “Don’t, you’re not strong enough. He and Merlin went on, they left us here to watch over you.”

  She shook her head, moaning “no” several times, struggling even harder to right herself. “He wouldn’t leave me.”

  Kylee sighed, “he didn’t want to. He fought hard to stay here, but in the end, he realized he had no other choice than to go.”

  She refused to believe it. “That mage must have beat him over the head repeatedly.” The ranger looked away. “You too? You told him to leave?”

  Her sister’s eyes lowered and met hers. “You were bitten by a snake and poisoned by the Phoenix. You almost died. Preik, it appears, has been working for her all along and there is an army encamped just north of Lancaster. We didn’t know how long you’d be out and we’re short on time. So yes, I talked him into going.” The wind was ripping Kylee’s long white ponytail with violent gusts and her sister looked to the sky at the raging storm bearing down on them. “It started about an hour ago. That’s not the product of Mother Nature. It formed too quickly, appearing out of nowhere.”

  “Where’s Kore?” She finally got to a sitting position and was rubbing her arms to produce heat. Where was her armor? It was getting cold.

  “Looking for Preik. I should have been the one to go, I’m the tracker, but I coul
dn’t leave you,” Kylee explained. “I just found you, then almost lost you.”

  She smiled weakly, sympathizing with her newfound sibling. She sighed, giving in to the fact that her lover was gone. Whatever the reason, it had better be a damn good one. “Would you mind helping me get my armor on? I’m freezing.” Her chattering teeth made it hard to hear, but her sister got the gist as she rose and disappeared from sight.

  Kore emerged from the path below, his armor smeared by the misty rain. Well, that was one way to get it clean. The orc pounded his way forward, axe strapped to his back, dark red eyes glowering down on her.

  “Anything?” Kylee asked, as she returned to her side. Together, they began the process of strapping on her armor under the larger man’s glare.

  The warrior shook his head, the flashes above glinting in his silver armor. She felt his eyes on hers and met his stare. “You don’t like me much, do you?” At least her voice was starting to get stronger; now if only the rest of her would.

  Kore grunted, “Kore like you fine, no like other elfs.”

  Seemed that racial hatred went both ways, as most elves she knew wouldn’t piss on an orc if it was on fire. “What makes me different?” she probed, curious.

  The large orc stared at the clouds overhead, watching the storm rage across the heavens. He was lost in thought, his face lax, giving him that blank look that vaguely matched his vocalizations. She knew that there was more in there, that he’d understood perfectly and was trying to figure out exactly how to say what he meant. Maybe all it took was someone who actually cared enough to take the time to listen; she doubted anyone had ever given him that.

  “Elfs no better than humans. Your elfs live with humans, treat same. Other elfs stuck up, no like not-elfs,” Kore finally managed.

  It had to be the longest speech the orc had ever made. It was broken up, of course, but the meaning was clear. He didn’t like the eastern elves for their prejudices but didn’t mind her people because they were more accepting of other cultures. There was a calculating mind at work in there.

  “Why are you with us? Surely you could do more to free your people up north rather than running around after that inconsiderate ass,” she snarked, fastening on her left pauldrons with trembling fingers.

  He glared at her as if what she’d said had been offensive, then his eyelids narrowed, the stare intensifying. “Merlin not ass. Merlin save Kore. Kore no slave. Kore hurt those that hurt Kore; broke free. Kore ran. Kore hungry, thirsty, dying, Merlin found Kore, helped Kore live. Kore want go north, free orcs. Merlin promised Kore come, Kore free wife, mother, brothers, sisters, all orcs from demon masters. That why Kore here.”

  “Seems like Merlin’s been making lots of promises,” she muttered under her breath. “If he cares so much for you, then why isn’t he here? Why did he leave you behind?”

  The orc didn’t answer; maybe he didn’t know how to. He had fallen back into his usual silence, eyes searching the skies, pointed ears alert.

  Her eyes slid along his face, really looking for the first time at the set of his mouth, the brows, the eyes, and saw less of a monster; more of a man with the misfortune of having green skin, red hair, and tusks. Were all her teachings wrong? Could they all be this misunderstood? Was Kore an example of what freed orcs had the potential to be?

  If he was—then fighting them would become much harder. It was easier to kill when you thought of them as brainless monsters that wanted to rip you apart. But this orc had spoken of a wife, mother, brothers and sisters; that added the image of Humanity to her previous perspective. Killing someone with a wife and kids was harder than a maniac with an axe. Well, except for goblins; she wouldn’t mind if they were wiped off the face of the Earth entirely. Would the Elven Nation, who revered life, fight for the Orcs freedom? She knew that they were not that forgiving and had very long memories.

  “Kore look bad elf,” the warrior stated, then turned and walked back down the mountain path.

  She had a lot to think on and apparently, nothing else to do in the meantime.

  Her armor was fastened in place and her body was starting to warm up. Kylee smiled down on her, then watched the warrior pass from sight. “You know, if you listen to that oaf long enough, you actually begin to understand what he’s saying.”

  Willow followed her gaze, “are other orcs like that?” Surely her elder sister had been out in the world and would’ve come across others of his kind.

  “Never took the time to find out,” Kylee admitted. “They kill us, we kill them; that’s nature. One good orc doesn’t mean there’s a second.”

  “That could be said about any race,” she retorted. “Imagine if the elves had been enslaved for two thousand years or more, born into it, raised to war. Can we say that we’d be any different?”

  The ranger shook her head. “I don’t buy it. If they are so eager to be free, then why did that orc still fight even when Kore offered him his freedom? Look, I’d love to debate with you all night about the moralities and cultural differences between elves and orcs, but this storm is going to hit us hard. We need a shelter or we’re going to be blown off this cliff. To be continued?”

  She nodded weakly, wishing she could get up and help. As Kylee moved off, she felt a nudge on her knee and looked down in panic, believing that another creature had just snuck up to take a bite out of her. Instead her gloved hand struck something softer—and furrier. As she had already been reliving the moments before the attack, she recognized the dark orange feline that was rubbing his head down her leg, his tail in the air and moving with the slight wind. He didn’t look like a house cat, but a miniature mountain lion, with tufts of white hair sprouting from his cheeks. She smiled as she ran a hand down the creature’s back. “Thank you for saving my life.”

  He purred in response, then climbed into her lap. Even though the armor had to be uncomfortable, he curled up and looked at her expectantly. She felt like laughing; what an odd turn of events. She stroked his forehead and he tilted his head so she could get behind the ears. “It’s too bad I’ll have to leave you behind when I go after Tristan tomorrow.”

  “Why can’t I go with you?” the cat asked, giving her a puzzled look, mouth open as he enjoyed the scratching; until she paused. Days earlier, it would have given her a shock to hear a cat talk, but after seeing Merlin change into a dog she had to wonder if this was another mage hiding in animal form.

  “Merlin?” If the mage was here, where the hell was her fiancé?

  Could cats sneer? “Are you joking?”

  “I’m sorry. It’s just, he’s the only one I’ve ever seen shift into animal. Are you a wizard as well?” she asked, confused. She had almost died, it was possible that this was entirely within her imagination.

  “No,” the cat answered, and began cleaning himself. Spreading his claws, his tongue dove between the fingers, eyes watching her carefully.

  “Then who are you?” she felt like she was pulling teeth here. He’s just as bad as Merlin.

  He shifted a bit as he finished cleaning and laid his head on his wet paw. “Trek. That snake ate my mouse, so while I’d like to say that saving you was my real motive, I’m afraid revenge was all I was really after. Not like it’s a buffet up here you know.”

  Well that was comforting; saved due to a dead mouse. “I suppose not. How do you propose to go with me? I can’t carry you on my back. I’m not even sure how I’m going to make it yet,” she responded softly, looking at the towering mountain above.

  The green eyes looked up at her as if she was saying something stupid. “You are my charge. Where you go, I go.”

  “Charge? What charge?”

  The cat sighed, if that was even possible. “You sure have a lot of questions. I was told to come here to protect you, to stay by your side, and that’s what I’m going to do,” the cat purred heavily. He appeared bored and his eyes watched the storm above, darting with the flashes of light like a cat following a bouncing ball of yarn.

  “Who told you?
Merlin?” Frustration was staring to build; she hated having to constantly push like this. It was just like talking to that infernal mage.

  “Your baby likes my purring,” he stated offhandedly, rubbing his nose on her stomach.

  Her heart stopped; her breath caught in her throat. Merlin had said something about being pregnant, but she had dismissed it, thinking he was seeing a different future than their own. She would know, wouldn’t she? She thought back on her recent behavior, her quick outburst, that cold clammy but sweaty feeling; the nausea and temper control issues. Was she pregnant? “How can you tell?” she asked in wonder.

  “I’m magic and so is she. We can sense each other,” the cat replied as if she should’ve known that.

  “She?” she blurted with surprise.

  “Oh, you didn’t want to know the sex? Sorry,” Trek apologized, but it didn’t sound like he meant it. Then she felt his sides’ quake, as if laughing. “You know, we’re going to have to go soon.”

  “Go where?” she was still reeling about the revelation of her pregnancy. She couldn’t give birth in some wilderness. How the hell was she going to do this with a baby in her? How could she justify taking an unborn child into battle? Goddess, what am I going to do?

  “After your,” Trek paused as he began licking himself again, “baby daddy.”

  She looked to the cliff side, then to the storm overhead. The wind was picking up and she knew any ascent would be beyond dangerous, it was impossible. “Not tonight.”

  “No choice,” the cat purred. “Call the white-haired chick over.”

  Kylee had been busy trying to build a canopy on a rock formation and barely heard her when she yelled her name. The wood she was using broke apart and fell to the ground, the elf kicking at them in anger. “What?” she snapped as she drew closer, then her eyes fell on the cat. “So that’s the fairy Merlin was obsessed about.”

  “Fairy?” she ventured.