Maylin's Gate (Book 3) Page 4

  Her fingers wrapped around the item she sought and she scooped it from the bag. With the item clenched inside her fist, she moved her hand across the table.

  Arber’s gaze tracked her balled fist.

  She opened her palm.

  Arber stared at the item and blinked. “May I hold it?”

  A buzz of adrenaline flushed through her arms and legs. “Yes of course.”

  Arber lifted a polished crystal flecked with bits of red and gold.

  Light from Elan’s sphere highlighted the crystal’s deep facets.

  Arber inspected the crystal for a long moment before speaking. “It’s a petrified heartwood seed.”

  “Yes.” Her voice sounded heavy with desperation. “You recognize it?” She held her breath and prayed Arber might offer a clue no matter how tiny.

  Arber placed the seed on the table. “I’m sorry Danielle. I’ve never seen it before.”

  “You’re sure? Why would Trace carry it with him? It must be important in some way.”

  “I’m sure you’re right, but it’s not sparking any memory.”

  She scooped up the seed and reached for its center like she had a dozen times before. She sensed nothing from the kernel. Whatever life had once flowed through its center ceased a long time ago.

  “If you don’t mind my asking, what else is in the bag?” Arber said.

  She tipped her head toward the bag. “Go ahead and see for yourself.”

  Arber pulled the bag around, reached inside, and pulled free a second object.

  A chunk of gleaming obsidian rested in the former guardian’s palm. With brow furrowed, Arber turned the rock over inspecting each side.

  She tracked Arber’s eyes waiting for the expected reaction.

  Arber’s head snapped up. “Is that who I think it is?”

  She nodded. “I don’t know who else it could be.”

  A chiseled image of Trace and Elan standing arm in arm adorned the obsidian’s flat surface.

  “Couldn’t you use this against him? You could threaten to destroy it,” Arber said.

  “I’ve tried. When I make the threat he shrugs it off.”

  “He’s probably faking it Danielle. He’s had plenty of experience controlling his emotions.”

  She shook her head. “As far as Trace knows, its already gone.”

  Arber held her gaze wearing a puzzled expression.

  She tipped her head toward the bag. “There’s more. Go ahead and look.”

  Arber reached inside and pulled free an age-worn silver pendant. At its center an empty socket stood where a jewel once appeared. “What’s this?”

  She shook her head. “It means something to him, but he’s not talking. I tried to use it against him, but like the engraving, he didn’t care what happened to it.”

  Arber set the pendant on the table beside the obsidian engraving.

  She laid the petrified heartwood beside the amulet.

  “Does the seed fit in the amulet?” Arber said.

  “No. I’ve tried a dozen different ways. None of them work.”

  Arber picked up the seed and the amulet and tried to assemble them like a puzzle piece. After a minute of trying, he gave up and placed the seed and pendant on the table.

  She leaned forward and rested her chin on her hand.

  Arber lifted the pack from the table and peered inside. “It’s empty?”

  She nodded. “Other than the heartwood sapling, those are the items he treasures most. Or at least what he brought with him when he decided to burn down an ancient forest.”

  With brow furrowed, Arber inspected the items laid out before them. “Yet, he doesn’t care if you destroy them all. What about the heartwood bow? Maybe you can grow a new tree from it.”

  “I’ve tried, but haven’t found a way. Kelwin and I found notes Lora left behind. Lora’s writings hinted at a way to trace a piece of living heartwood to its host.”

  “Any luck?” Arber said.

  “None until I combined a seed I found in Obsith with the heartwood sample.”

  Arber’s brow raised. “Go on.”

  “Light streamed from the wood’s surface and pointed toward the desert.”

  “Your glum expression tells me something went wrong,” Arber said.

  She nodded and picked up the silver pendant rolling it between her fingertips. “I might have caused permanent damage to the heartwood.”

  Arber stiffened. “It’s dead?”

  “I don’t think so. More like a deep sleep.”

  Arber exhaled and leaned back in the chair. “Then we should look in Obsith.”

  She couldn’t suppress a smile. “We’d have better luck finding a needle in a haystack. It could take a lifetime. The plague will destroy us all before then.”

  Arber picked up the obsidian etching and rubbed Elan’s eyes. “If Elan were here, he might help us.”

  An audible click came from the obsidian.

  With her gaze locked on the obsidian, the short hair on her neck stood on end.

  A rough edge protruded from the once seamless obsidian chunk.

  She lifted her gaze from the etching and met Arber’s.

  Arber’s mouth hung open.

  “Is that a compartment?” She said, voice trembling.

  Arber eased the etching onto the table.

  A straight edged protrusion appeared on the etching’s side.

  She pulled the obsidian toward her.

  “Go ahead. See if it opens,” Arber said.

  She pried the tiny compartment open with her thumbnail and the door slid away.

  An ornate silver key pressed in black velvet sat nestled inside.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Nightmare

  In the pass ahead, the curtain of dark blue energy expanded and contracted. White light swirled. Thirty foot tracers shot outward into the sky above Tara’s minions.

  Tara searched the sky above the raging energy curtain for any sign of General Demos. How does a man vanish into nothing?

  On the cliffs above the pass, Ronan’s soul shone with a brightness that made the energy curtain appear dim.

  Around her pandemonium reigned. Troopers pushed past her like a school of mackerel under attack by a marauding shark.

  The mare beneath her bucked and whinnied fighting against the crowd pushing past it.

  With an earsplitting groan, the curtain blew outward. A hundred of her minions disintegrated. Blue and white energy swallowed the front line of General Demos’s troopers.

  Screams filled with panic and pain echoed from the canyon walls. A low rumble echoed deep inside the mountain.

  Her mare bucked and tossed her from its saddle. Her stomach flip-flopped and she fell into the throng of troopers swarming around her.

  White snow and mud raced toward her face and she pushed her arms outward bracing for impact. She struck the ground and pain, like a hot knife, raced along her arms. Something snapped near her elbow and she howled in pain. Panic tore through her mind and she rolled sideways.

  Clanging armor, stomping boots, and shouts came from above. Flickers of gray sky appeared above the swarming troopers, and a light snow started.

  Tara craned her neck upslope toward the energy curtain and her gazed locked on the cliff above.

  Blinding silver light rose in a slow arc over the roiling energy looming in the pass.

  Somehow he’d gained the ability to fly? Confusion and panic doused her thoughts.

  An explosion left her ears ringing. The world blurred and changed into a monotone ringing buzz.

  The canyon walls collapsed. Falling boulders tore through General Demos’s retreating troopers.

  Bloodcurdling screams rose from troopers further up the pass and the icy mud beneath her shook.

  She stretched her mind outward for her minions. They could protect her and lead her to safety. She reached for their soul strands and found nothing. A fresh wave of panic washed over her. Ruin had come to her army. Ronan had destroyed them all.

&n
bsp; “General Demos.” She shouted his name but couldn’t hear a reply through the ringing and chaos swirling around her. Gregor wouldn’t come for her this time. They’d taken him. The one person on earth she trusted. She clawed the slippery ground ahead and fresh pain erupted through her right arm.

  The mountain crumbled. Boulders and rubble rained on the retreating troopers.

  She pulled herself ahead using her one good arm. If she reached Ripool, she could find safety.

  Something yanked her collar and pulled her to her feet.

  She gasped and whirled.

  A young trooper gaped.

  She started to thank him then stopped.

  The trooper’s face contorted into a mask of fear and revulsion. The soldier backed away and mumbled a forced apology.

  She’d seen that expression too many times to count. She pulled her hood tight and moved with the troopers downslope toward the safety of Ripool. She would find General Andreas and General Pietro. They would need time to assess the damage Ronan had inflicted on their army.

  Behind her, a deep rumble came from the collapsing mountain. Troopers screamed.

  She broke into a run moving with the flow of retreating soldiers closing in on Ripool’s gates below. She would find General Andreas and make amends.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Ronan’s Curse

  The scent of chamomile and dried garlic hung in the stifling air.

  Ronan sat bolt upright and craned his neck around the room. Sweat clung to his tunic and his legs felt heavy trapped beneath a pile of quilts and blankets. His tongue flapped in his mouth like a dry piece of leather and tasted like a dirty sock.

  A layer of frost coated the window pane nestled in the room’s far wall. Dim light filtered through and dingy shadows hung in the bedroom's corners. Bundles of dried sweet grass hung from the ceiling above a fireplace near the end of his bed. Garlic, chamomile, mushrooms, and jars filled with strange powders lined a shelf above an open door.

  A figure sat in a chair beside the hearth carving a warped piece of aged cherry.

  Rika. His head throbbed with pain.

  Rika’s head swiveled toward the bed and back to the door. “Connal. Mistress Henley. He’s awake.” Rika tossed aside the carving and leaped from the chair.

  “Rika, where am I?” His head pulsed with fresh pain and he winced.

  “You’re in the village of Forth.” Rika poured water from a wooden pitcher into a rough-hewn stone mug and crossed the room to his bedside.

  “Whose home is this?”

  “Mistress Henley’s,” Rika said. “She’s the village herbalist.”

  “Herbalist? What of our healers?”

  Connal crossed beneath the doorway and entered the room followed by a short plump woman in a gray woolen smock. Ayralen’s Prime Guardian stopped at the end of the bed and peered over him with brow furrowed.

  Connal’s serious expression sent a ruffle of dread through his stomach. His father didn’t appear a man bearing good news.

  He took the mug from Rika and drained its contents in a single swallow. How many times had he ended up in a sick bed? He’d lost count. “What happened? And don’t hold back. We don’t have time for coddling. We need to stop the baeriense advance in the pass. Is Devery ready to leave?”

  Connal’s brow furrowed and his father glanced at Rika.

  Rika’s mouth fell open before sitting on the bed beside him. Rika’s hand found his and stroked with a soothing touch. “What do you remember Ronan?”

  “We were on our way to the pass,” he said. “I’d hidden our advance beneath a shield. Were we ambushed? Where’s Devery?”

  “We were at the pass,” Connal said. “You built the curtain just as we planned.”

  He licked his lips and shook his head. “What are you talking about? Have you gone mad?” He glanced between Connal and Rika.

  Neither spoke and stared at him as if someone had died.

  “Where’s Devery? Or the volunteers in our crew?”

  Connal stared into his eyes and kept silent for several long moments. “I think you need more sleep first. We can talk after —”

  Rage flashed and his head screamed with pain. “What happened?”

  “Ronan, you’re not well,” Rika said. “Please.”

  Mistress Henley approached holding a glass container filled with a murky green liquid. “Drink this, Your Majesty. The sassafras and ginger will ease the pain in your head.”

  He reached out with a trembling hand and latched onto the strange brew. He tipped the container back and let the vile mixture slide down his throat. His mouth puckered and his taste buds protested until the bitterness faded.

  Mistress Henley stepped back and bowed to Rika. “The remedy should dull the pain, but I can’t do anything for the rest.”

  “Thank you Mistress Henley,” Rika said. “You’ve done a great service for your country.”

  The old woman blushed and smiled. “You’re giving an old herbalist too much credit, but I thank you for the kind words. If you be needing anything else, just pop your head out the door. I won’t be far away.” Mistress Henley bowed toward Connal and Rika then left the room.

  As Mistress Henley promised, the pain in his head eased along with his temper. He rubbed his temples and leaned against the headboard.

  Connal pulled up a rickety wooden side chair to his bedside and sat. “We made it to the pass. We weren’t ambushed.”

  “I don’t remember,” he said.

  “You built the curtain just as you thought you could,” Connal said. “You used the soul energy from the militiamen.”

  “Did it work?” He said.

  Connal nodded. “For a time it did, but you lost control of the power.”

  Flashes of sound and light rattled in his head. A memory sharp and painful. He winced and rubbed his head.

  “Ronan, maybe I should ask Mistress Henley for some more medicine,” Rika said.

  He shook his head. “I’m fine. Go on father.”

  “The curtain grew out of control,” Connal said. “It flared outward and killed hundreds of the witch’s creatures.”

  The image of Tara’s porcelain-white face and blood-red lips flashed through his mind. “Yes.” He hissed the word as pain flared in his head.

  “The baeriense retreated toward Ripool, but….”

  “The curtain exploded.” The words came out a bare throaty whisper.

  “Yes,” Connal said voice husky with emotion.

  His hands trembled and he ran his fingers through his sweat-soaked hair. “Devery. I need to see Devery.”

  “Ronan.” Tears filled Rika’s eyes and her chin quivered.

  “No. In Elan’s name, no.” He buried his face in his hands and his body shook. Tears came sharp and sudden flowing down his cheeks.

  “Son, Devery understood the risk,” Connal said. “He wouldn’t blame you.”

  “I had no business channeling that spell.” He stared at this father through tear-filled eyes. “I’m not Elan! I’m not God!”

  “It’s my fault,” Connal said. “I never should have pushed you to attack.”

  He shook his head. “I could’ve told you no. I was so full of myself. So full of my own blind arrogance. This is beyond me.”

  Rika sat on the bed and rubbed his back. “You did what you had to do. If not you, who? You had no choice.”

  He wiped the tears from his face. “There’s always a choice. My choice cost Devery along with every man on that mountain.”

  “We’ll go back to Freehold and —”

  “No Rika. We’ll not go back to Freehold,” he said voice filled with rage. “You and father will go find Sir Alcott.”

  “I can’t leave you,” Rika said.

  “You don’t understand.” He gazed into Rika’s watery eyes. “I can’t be with you Rika. If any harm came to you or the baby….” He choked on the words and paused to suppress a wave of grief. The thought of harming Rika left him nauseous. “If I hurt you or the baby, I could
not live through the pain.”

  “Where would you go?” Connal said. “You can’t run away from the world when it needs you most. Millions more could die without your help.”

  “I understand father, and I thank you for the reminder.”

  “You asked for no coddling,” Connal said. “You’re a grown man and you have truths to face.”

  He glared at his father. “I’ll find Moira. The dragons can teach me how to control whatever it is I’ve become. I’m a danger to everyone until I learn.”

  “Fine. I’ll take you,” Rika said.

  He barked out a short bitter laugh. “Not a chance. Did you not hear me? I’ll not channel another drop of magic in your presence.”

  “Then I’ll take you,” Connal said.

  He shook his head. “I’ll not risk your life either. Besides, you’re Ayralen’s Prime Guardian, and a better leader than I ever was.”

  “Ronan, this is madness,” Rika said.

  “I’ve ordered the evacuation of every village along the coast,” he said. “The witch will not have any more humans to feast on. She can kill the bloody baeriense all she wants, but she won’t take another human life.”

  “You don’t have to channel magic,” Rika said. “Just let me take you to Moira’s.”

  “You and Rika should go find Sir Alcott in the Trinity Range,” he said.

  “What’s he doing there?” Connal said.

  “He’s excavating the site where Danielle found the Book of Order. He has a theory about the site. I’m sure he’ll be glad to explain when you see him.”

  Connal nodded.

  “The baerinese will move inland through the ports along the coast,” he said. “You need to gather an army, but I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that.”

  “When will you be back?” Connal said.

  He shook his head. “When I figure out who I am.”

  “How will you get there?” Rika said. “Surely you don’t plan on walking.”

  “Didn’t we capture one of those baerinese birds?” He said.

  Connal nodded. “It’s called a draco. But, the beast won’t let a human near it let alone mount and command it.”

  “Is the baeriense soldier you captured still alive?” He said.

  “Yes, he’s in the village,” Connal said. “Your detention shield is still holding.”