The Quest for the Lost Shards of Power

by F M Andrews

  #

  Zail was falling with the water. He was in a dark, noisy void with no idea of where he was or how he had got there. He had never encountered anything like this before. He had not sensed any talent in the boy and yet he had managed to transport them both to another world, judging by the lack of detectable magic. With a small hand motion, he stopped his descent, moved out of the water and began to float upwards. He needed to get out of here, and was truly annoyed that he could not make a quick return to deal to the bitch. It was all about moving from one known place to another, and with no knowledge of where he was, he did not know which direction to move in.

  How had that slip of a boy had managed to transport them both to a different world, instantly? A shadow of envy slipped across his heart. The only way Zail could travel from world to world was by using the star map in his head and even then it was not instantaneous, he still had to travel through limbo. For a child to have such talent and for that talent to be undetectable sounded alarm bells. When this was all over, he was going to have to deal with the boy personally.

  Casting a light, he examined his surroundings and quickly saw the escape route as well as the staggering magnitude of the waterfall plunging to unknown depths beside him. ‘Impressive,’ he thought, grudgingly acknowledging Turrin’s achievement. Frustratingly, his escape was further hampered by a rock fall, probably caused by that nuisance boy, and when he finally stepped out into the sunshine, he vowed to return and destroy this whole stinking world. The boy’s actions had cost him precious time, time he was positive She would have used wisely. She might even have reached the cursed boundary by now! There was no telling how days ran on this world compared to Feld.

  #

  The closer the trolls came, the faster Errin’s heart beat. They were an unruly lot, loping steadily towards her. There was no formation at all. They were almost like a group of large school children let out of class at the end of the day. The closer they came the more menacing they looked. They were truly ugly and their appearance did not improve with close scrutiny. All three wizards had now summoned their protective shields to cover their groups but still it was an unnerving experience having these huge beasts charging directly at you.

  “Steady,” Errin called. “Don’t attack unless they do. Save your energy. Zail will not be far away,” she warned. She could see both Myssan and Ela looked nervous and she didn’t blame them one little bit as her own palms were slippery with sweat on her reins. Steeling herself for the impact, she resisted the urge to close her eyes. The first troll sidestepped around her to pass by harmlessly, causing her to blink several times to make sure of what she was seeing.

  For the next few moments, her people sat as if they were in a bubble, untouched by the swiftly flowing river of large troll bodies. It was an assault of the senses, a blur of motion, a crescendo of deep, resonating voices and the clanging of weapons, a wash of foul odours that violated their senses. The ground shook as they passed and they even blocked the sunlight. Strangely, every now and then, Errin felt a small static discharge skim across her shield, as if it were being touched by talent. She shook her head to dispel the unwanted image of trolls with power.

  Bursting out the other side of the tide of bodies, Errin was breathless but relieved, until she glanced up and saw that it was not over yet. In the distance she saw three, no four, figures running hard towards them. It was as if they were trying to keep up with the trolls but had fallen behind. On closer inspection, they were an odd group, ranging in height from tall to very short and, Errin blinked in disbelief, was that a large cat running beside them? All at once a ray of sunlight caught the tawny, unruly thatch of hair on the smallest runner and Errin gave an involuntary cry of excitement.

  “Lutex! Oh, my word!” She sat stunned, refusing to believe her own eyes, but as he came closer the fact that it was him could not be denied. In a heartbeat, she found herself on the ground and running frantically towards the miracle child before her, the crushing feeling of guilt she had been carrying ever since his failure to return vanishing to be replaced instead with all-encompassing joy. The boy stood no chance, no resistance could have withstood Errin’s embrace. Everyone else looked on in disbelief, even the two trolls standing quietly next to Lutex. Errin did not want to let go and they stood locked in a tight hug for several delicious moments, Lutex deep within her circling arms, his hair tickling her chin, his skinny arms around her waist. In a day of tension, this was an experience to cherish.

  “Hello, Errin,” Lutex’s quiet, gentle voice found its way into her mind. She stopped breathing, grasped his shoulders and searched those assured, amused eyes.

  “You talk now!” she gasped, stating the obvious. Then pulling him back into her fierce embrace once more, she murmured, “I thought I had lost you. I thought I would never see you again.”

  “We came through Zail’s portal,” Lutex grinned up at her, the mischievousness of this act twinkling in his dark eyes. “Sorry to have caused you any worry,” he added in response to Errin’s tears. All she could do was shake her head in amazed disbelief.

  “This is Princess Lifen, she has the shard,” he introduced the young female troll, touching her hand to communicate. “And this is Brack, a hero and a friend.” Lutex smiled warmly up at the large troll standing protectively next to the princess. Errin was welcoming them both when she felt her legs being rubbed by the large tabby cat-like creature.

  “I am Tubble. Lutex is right. You are good people. I help you now. Make you unseen,” the cat spoke assertively into her thoughts. Errin’s jaw dropped as her hand lowered to touch the soft coat. She had no idea what it had just said but at least it was on her side. How had this small child managed to find the shard and its bearer in a land populated by trolls? How had he convinced lifelong enemies to help? This was a story for Fenrick, and she could not wait to hear it told, but right now she needed other, more urgent answers.

  “Why did those trolls let us pass?” she asked, pointing at the retreating backs.

  “It is a long story,” Lutex began. “But the short version is that the princess asked them to fight Zail instead of Feld.” The princess looked surprised at that, then frowning, she stepped forward to clasp Errin’s hand.

  “He is too modest,” she chided. “He and Hezrill were the ones who gave the Telft their shields.”

  Errin turned her questioning gaze back to Lutex.

  He hesitated for a moment before he relented and began to explain.

  “Well, when Hezrill and Dissan arrived, Lifen had already persuaded the trolls that they had been fighting the wrong enemy, but, you know the Telft, that is what the fighting trolls are called, they were itching for a scrap. Hezrill decided to help them, a little, by providing them with shields that would help protect them from Zail,” he concluded, shrugging his shoulders. This information explained a few things to Errin. One, why she had felt talent emanating from the trolls, and two that Hezrill and Dissan were alive, although she wondered where they were. Lutex read her mind.

  “Dissan thought that you might need help, and so he and Hezrill rode to the rendezvous point. We came up from the boundary in case you had already left.” It was such a seesaw day for Errin. One moment her hopes were boosted up to impossible heights and the next they were dashed down again. Dissan and Hezrill were alive although they were most certainly riding into danger. Zail was sure to return and find them and they were no match for his strength.

  Lutex’s gaze had moved to scan Errin’s companions, sitting quietly on their mounts.

  “Where is Turrin?” he asked, worry sounding loud and clear in his thoughts. All Errin could do was shake her head and look down. She could not face the reality of losing him just now. That was set aside as something to visit if she ever had the luxury of time again.

  A loud scream and an explosive shock wave pulled everyone's attention back to the Telft, all turning in unison just in time to see a large body cartwheeling through the air before landing with a thump back amongst its peers.


  Zail had arrived.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Zail was seething.

  By the time he eventually made it back to the place where that accursed boy had snatched him from, it was deserted; all that was left was the stinking carcass of that dragon thing, festering on the ground. Giving it a vicious kick in frustration, he levitated and flew towards the boundary. There were no prizes given for guessing which way that bitch had gone. He just hoped he would catch her in time. He had no doubt that he could destroy that feeble barrier if he put his mind to it, but it would be a long a tedious task and besides the wild magic storms gave him the heebie-jeebies. No, it was best to get her whilst she was vulnerable and, licking his lips in anticipation, he sped onwards.

  #

  Dissan and Hezrill had slipped quietly up the hill making their way past the ruined walls, keeping to the shadows. They had left the knights and the guardian a few leagues back, concealed in a gully, just in case Errin was still using her talent. It had been fortunate that they had been hidden behind the wall when Zail arrived, stormed about and that flew off cursing. Hezrill shuddered. She had heard so many stories about this vile man but to see his revolting aura made her feel physically sick. Dissan had immediately reached for his sword and only her restraining hand had caused him to pause.

  Peering cautiously round the wall into the circle, they could see that it was empty now, not a soul in sight. There was no way of knowing if all had gone well or not. The only good thing was that there were no dead bodies, although there was a couple of odd shaped mounds off to one side. Cautiously they crept along the wall until they came even with the curious object. It had once been a large black animal of some kind but now it was mangled beyond recognition and very dead. The next object was similar yet somehow very different. For a long time both of them just stood staring down at the beautiful creature before them. Once it would have been magnificent but now, in death, it was shattered and torn. Hezrill could not resist the urge to touch it and hesitantly reached out her hand towards the fading iridescent scales on its head. There was still warmth in its body. Gently, she probed its life source and, amazingly, she felt that there was a spark. It was spluttering and near extinction but it was there.

  During her long, slow recovery she had found that a good way to distract herself from her injuries was to watch and learn healing from Errin. She had been fascinated, discovering that she had an aptitude for it. There had been plenty of opportunities to practice, as the knights would regularly come back from a skirmish with the trolls with some injury or other. In the end, Errin had given her cases and she was proud that she had needed to ask for advice less and less. Now, using these skills, she did a quick diagnostic run down of the beast before her and instantly knew exactly what she needed to do to save it. Normally, behind the boundary, she had had to guess and then let nature take its course, but here, today, she had her talent; she could see inside the body and mind, find the problem and heal it all very quickly.

  “What are you doing? Dissan whispered, glancing nervously about. “We have to go.”

  “It’s alive and I think I can save it,” Hezrill answered quietly.

  Dissan shook his head in denial. “We have to find Errin. We don’t know what this thing is or why it is here. For all we know it might be one of Zail’s creatures.” He bent down to look into her eyes.

  “I can feel the goodness in it,” Hezrill replied, her hands still resting on its head. “It has a …” she searched for the words, “a sort of glow about it,” she finished lamely.

  Dissan was well out of his depth here but he had learned over time to trust in those with talent. If Hezrill sensed that this stunning beast was worth saving, he was not going to stop her trying. Besides, he thought to himself, if she could indeed heal it, it would make a very useful weapon in their arsenal. Nodding his head in agreement, he went to stand guard. This day was turning out to be very strange. Friendly trolls and now a dragon. He wondered what would be next.

  “Right then, my beauty, where do I start?[CL35]” Hezrill asked rhetorically as she carefully examined its injuries. It was bleeding internally, it had lost a lot of blood from its torn wings, and several bones were broken, yet the thing that worried her the most was that it had suffered a blow to the head and there was a small amount of swelling in its brain. Someone, probably Errin, had put a sleeping spell on it and for that, she was grateful. Healing these injuries would be painful for the patient. Closing her eyes she began. It was exhilarating to be able to use her talent and to see the injuries heal in moments rather than weeks. She had felt confident about the bones and cuts and even the internal injuries; however, she felt a little out of her depth with the brain injury and so left it until last. She sat back on her heels, taking some deep breaths to steady her nerves as she surveyed her handiwork, before diving back in.

  Gone were the tattered and broken things at its side; instead two glorious, fully formed wings were folded neatly there. Its silver colour was intensified, its scales almost too vibrant to look at, and it was breathing deeply and steadily once more. Now for the hard part, she thought.

  “Storm!” Dissan called, tapping her on the shoulder. She looked up in terror. “Polrick has just given the signal for a storm and they are riding this way.” The relief that a guardian would soon be there to protect them was tempered by the fact that she was so close to healing the beast. Why had she left the most serious injury until last? There was no guarantee that it would survive long enough for the storm to pass and the guardian to leave once more; nevertheless, there was nothing she could do about it now. The storm was small, moving fast and it was a desperate race between it and the guardian. Dissan could see that the storm was going to win and, grabbing Hezrill, he yelled that they needed to ride. She knew it was the sensible thing to do, yet somehow her heart would not let her leave the creature.

  “There is no point in you both dying,” he yelled as she hesitated. “Think of Anssan,” he pleaded. Anssan’s face swam before her eyes and she knew he was right.

  “Let me try just one last thing, it will only take a moment. You go, I will be right behind you,” she begged. Anything to do with the brain needed to be done with precision, careful forethought and plenty of time; however, she did not have the luxury of any of these things. The only thing she was certain of was that this strange animal would die without her aid and that she could not live with herself if she did not at least try to save it.

  Closing her eyes once more to help her block out the world and concentrate on her target, she quickly but carefully closed the wound, simply transported the surrounding fluid out into the air to evaporate, healed the injury in an instant with a touch of talent and, after taking a deep reassuring breath, she took off the sleeping spell.

  Swirling, luminous eyes sprang open and she found herself the object of their scrutiny. Her hands were still resting on its forehead allowing it to share thoughts.

  “Turrin? Where is Turrin?” he demanded, sounding upset. Hezrill was at a loss to answer and instead projected the need to flee the coming storm, allowing her mounting terror to bleed through and showing the need to hurry. Hesitantly, he spread his wings, stretching them out in wonder, understanding immediately what she had done for him. Rising up, he stood, staring off towards the storm, giving Hezrill her first real understanding of his size and majesty.

  “You may ride if you wish,” he said, lowering one shoulder. Hezrill gulped. It was a very kind offer, yet she was not sure if she was brave enough to take it up.

  “What is happening?” Dissan asked nervously eyeing the beast and hopping from one foot to the other, uncertain about exactly what to do.

  “He has offered us a ride,” Hezrill answered, conveying her own nervousness in this simple statement.

  “Really?” Dissan’s voice razed an octave, sounding incredulous. “Look, you go and I will take the horses,” he replied, before turning and racing off back down the hill, leaving her with only one option. She knew he w
as being sensible, as someone had to save the horses.

  “It is alright, little one,” the dragon reassured her. “Turrin only fell off once.” [CL36]This did not help and mounting the large foreleg was one of the most nerve-racking things she had ever done. “Hold on to my scales,” he instructed as he spread its newly healed wings. It only took two or three huge sweeps for the beast to launch itself into the air. Hezrill squeaked and clung on for dear life, yet after a few moments she realized that she was not going to fall and dared a small peek at the ground. The sight took her breath away. She could see for ever and the knights galloping towards her looked like toy soldiers. Gracefully the dragon glided down to soar over them, lazily circling to keep pace above. Nervous faces turned upwards, and she waved down at them in reassurance. From her vantage point, she could see Dissan riding frantically towards the knights and safety. She watched helplessly as the drama played out below her. Would Dissan make it to the safety of the guardian before the storm overtook them? Had her actions damned him? It was impossible to judge. She held her breath as the gap between the two narrowed at a snail's pace. Both the knights and Dissan seemed to be crawling whilst the storm was flying. It was time to go lower and she could watch no longer.