Chapter 16
Kirdan could not stop
himself. He watched as he involuntarily stole the relic from the
castle treasury, the old witch standing beside him. The relic
responded to the touch of its steward, glowing with soft white light.
It was about the size of a loaf of bread, made of a sort of gray
crystal. He could see his fingers through its opaque surface,
lifting it from its pedestal and placing it into a pack on his hip.
He was conscious, but unable
to control his body. The old Chaelestan witch, Seren Tuwil, had put
him under a spell after he had been led from the tower. Seren had
taken him into the castle, where she commanded him to take her to the
relic. He obeyed every word, moving almost naturally. However, he
had not blinked, and he could feel his eyes drying out. By the time
they were riding away from Aetheris, tears were streaming from his
eyes. Zagalis mentioned it to Seren, who nodded.
He could blink and move his
eyes voluntarily after that, but still could not control the rest of
his body. They rode all day and into the night, not stopping except
to water the horses. Kirdan ate the food given him, but it was not
much, and it was not willfully. They made it to the Vento Pass by
midnight, but pushed onward. Snow still covered the mountains, but
workers from Aetheris and Premoi had worked to clear most of the snow
on the road. They passed multiple parties of travelers, some
grieving over loved ones lost in the snowy pass. Kirdan wanted to
reach out to his people and comfort them, but could not. He wore a
hood, keeping his face hidden from passerby.
The horses carried them much
faster than walking, bringing the party into Premoi in three days
from Aetheris. The weather warmed, turning back into Spring. A
couple times Kirdan saw people he recognized pass them on the road,
people from the senate or from his travels around the country. He
wanted to speak with them, to cast magic, but he could not sing. The
collarium was
still around his neck, prohibiting speech.
They were a day outside of
Premoi, still in the pass, when Kirdan went to fetch water. He knew
Seren was controlling him, but that did not keep him from trying
anything. As he knelt near a small pool of water, catching the
stream falling into it in multiple buckets, he cast his eyes
downward. He could see his reflection.
I, as son, would speak
with my father, king. Show to him, me, and to me, him,
he sang in his mind. An image formed on the water. He could not
turn his head, but kept his eyes upon it. It showed the king sitting
at his desk, speaking with one of the Egregia.
The king noticed the image on the mirror below him and looked down,
right into Kirdan's eyes.
There
was no sound with this spell, but Kirdan saw his father's lips
moving. The prince removed one bucket, taking his head away from the
view of the spell, and picked up the last one. He placed it under
the stream and cast his eyes again at the pool below him. His father
was mouthing more words. He caught a few, one of which meant the
world to him right then.
Ashira . . . .
His
father continued.
. . . help . . . Egregia
. . . ruins . . . .
Kirdan
finished filling the bucket and moved away from the pool, catching
one last glimpse of his father.
Ivarus
and Ashira were an afternoon's ride away, keeping a steady distance
between themselves and their quarries. They rode as quickly as they
dared on the slippery slopes of the pass. The evening of the second
day, Ivarus pulled out a small looking glass from his pack.
“The
king gave this to me,” he said, looking into his reflection, “for
when he needs to speak with us. I just felt it getting warmer
against my back. There must be a message coming through.”
Indeed,
it was only a few seconds later that an image appeared in the glass.
The king looked out at Ivarus.
“I
believe you are going in the correct direction,” the king said, his
voice coming from his image. “Kirdan was able to contact me from a
pool somewhere in the pass. It seems he did not have control of his
actions. He did not cast the full spell, nor did he stay as long as
I needed to tell him anything useful.”
“Then
what of Corinth?” Ivarus asked.
“He
will join you at Mancana Ruins. I have sent word to him to hasten
back to the pass. Ivarus,” he said, concern in his voice, “I
believe my son is bewitched. The sooner you find him, the sooner we
can keep anything bad from happening. We only have a couple more
days before disaster strikes. The extraction cannot happen, or
Zagalis will have the ability to strip all Camenians of their magic.
Only stewards can do this, and he will take over as steward if he
takes Kirdan's magic. Not only that, but the process will kill my
son.”
Ashira
listened from the other side of the glass, realizing for the first
time what kind of danger she and Kirdan truly were in.
“Let
me speak with Ashira,” said Kaion.
Ivarus
handed over the looking glass. Ashira looked into the eyes of the
king, concern showing on her face.
“Ashira,”
he said, looking at her with tenderness, “you are a brave young
woman to do this. I wanted you to be the first to know that, because
of the memories you shared, there if finally proof that Kaias Celsis
is a traitor. The judges have all seen your memories and watched
every detail. Kaias will be put on trial next month. He has been
detained until then. Thank you, Ashira, for helping to put an end to
his terrorism.”
“You're
welcome, your majesty,” she said, bowing her head slightly. “I'm
glad I was able to help. Your son, Ivarus, and others have showed
kindness to me while in this land. I'm glad I was able to give back
somehow.”
Ivarus
took the looking glass and addressed the king.
“Sir,
what of the Egregia? Are they on their way?”
“I
sent the last of them out this afternoon,” he responded. “The
first few of them should meet up with you in Premoi, the last few in
Ceantir.”
Ivarus
nodded.
“I
will look for their signal, then. Thank you, your majesty.”
It was
sundown on the third day that Ashira and Ivarus reached the northern
docks of Premoi, which covered a couple kilometers north of the
walled-in portion of the city. Their route would take them on the
river until they reached Ceantir.
“They
will have gotten on the river by now,” he said, leading her to the
docks. “We will get passage on a military barge heading south.
Some of the other Egregia will meet us shortly and get on the
same barge. The rest will meet us in Ceantir by evening tomorrow.”
Ashira
recognized the Tidalwind sitting in the harbor. Nobody
was on deck. Ivarus spoke with a man dressed in a breastplate that
covered a red tunic, similar to what Ivarus had been wearing when he
had found Ashira in the plaza. It had felt like so long ago, but had
really only been just under two weeks ago.
“If I
am judging right, we are closing in on them just a little,” Ivarus
told her as they boarded the small barge. The soldier led their
horses away from the docks to a stable somewhere.
“How
can you tell?” she asked.
“I
spoke with the king a little after you went to sleep last night. He
told me that Kirdan was still outside of Premoi at that sundown
yesterday. He was able to send another brief message, this time
showing the king the exit of the pass.”
They
waited for fifteen minutes. Ashira leaned against the deck, looking
at the lights of Premoi to the south. Ivarus waited with the looking
glass in his hands, sitting on a crate. At last, single flash of
bluish light shone from it, lighting his face for a brief second.
“Astor
is nearly here,” he said, standing and walking to the rail. He
peered into the night at the docks. A minute later, a man walked
toward the barge. He boarded and he and Ivarus embraced, patting
each others' backs.
“Astor,
it is good to see you again,” Ivarus said, laughing.
“And
you, Ivarus,” replied the man. He was a couple inches shorter than
Ivarus, with sholder-length locks pulled back into a ponytail.
Whereas Ivarus wore a red tunic, Astor wore light blue. There was a
light blue dolphin emblazoned in his chest.
They
waited another hour. Five more Egregia boarded the barge, each
wearing a different colored tunic. They were joined by orange, dark
green, brown, dark blue, and black. Ashira remembered Astor's name,
but could not keep the others straight. They each had animals on
their chests, but did not all carry the same weapons. The black
Egregium surprised her, as it was a woman and not a man. She carried
no weapons on her, but Ashira could feel that, regardless, she was
not one to mess with.
The set
out at last, the soldiers chanting while rowing to push the barge
down the river. Ashira retreated below deck, where she was shown a
cot she could sleep on. She was grateful at last to be able to sleep
without fear of attack.
Kirdan
knew they were heading to Acustia. He had heard Zagalis telling
Seren their destination, but had not heard every detail before being
sent away. He wished he could break the witch's spell. He had tried
many different things, but nothing had worked. And he could not
attack her because he had no control over his actions.
Zagalis
and Seren Tuwil were accompanied by a guard of ten men. He had been
able to count one night while they all sat around a fire and ate.
If there are only ten, he
thought, surely the Egregia will be able to take care of them easily.
He was grateful his father had
at least been able to tell him that much. It was comforting to know
he had the best of Camena's military in pursuit of his captors.
It was
the morning of the fifth day that their barge reached the docks of
Ceantir. Try as he might, he had been unable to get another message
to his father. Zagalis had stopped feeding him the morning before,
and his stomach grumbled with hunger.
They
were in Acustia now. Zagalis led them into the forest. Kirdan had
never been in tees so thick as these. He realized it was this same
climate that Ashira grew up in. The Oerard Mountains rose into the
sky to their left as they trekked through the trees.
They
made camp in a small clearing for the night. Seren led him away from
the others and tied him against a tree trunk. Kirdan was confused at
first. Then he realized there must be a reason why she was doing
this.
An hour
passed. Zagalis and Seren came through the trees and into view.
“Time
to prepare you for what's ahead, prince,” Zagalis sneered. He
pulled out his dagger and held the point against the steward's arm.
“We
need you whole, perhaps, but not healthy,” he said, pushing the
point into the flesh. Kirdan opened his mouth and screamed, but no
sound came out, only the sound of air coming forcefully from his
lungs.
The next
hour was a blur of pain. At one point, he realized Seren's hold on
him was gone, but he could hardly move from exhaustion, hunger, and
pain anyway. Seren used needles to torture him. Zagalis used his
dagger, sometimes getting the end red-hot before pressing it against
his face.
Finally,
Kirdan blacked out from the pain.
Ivarus
and his company reached Ceantir at noon on the fifth day. The king
had received no more from Kirdan. Ivarus instructed Astor to stay
with the woman in black in Ceantir and wait for the rest of their
team. He led Ashira and the others out of the town and along the
border of the woods. The sun was setting, illuminating the
mountainsides to the northeast.
Once
they stopped to make camp, Ashira climbed a nearby tree and watched
the sun go down. She could see the river sparkling in the distance.
All was calm and peaceful. The snow on the mountains turned red,
then pink and orange, then purple. Ashira breathed in the familiar
scent of the trees around her and felt at home again. The sun was
gone and she descended the tree, heading back to camp.
They set
out before the sun was up. Ivarus had sent orange and dark blue
ahead to scout the area. They reported back just after noon that
they had found the ruins to the south. It was just getting to be
evening when Ivarus held up his hand for them to stop.
“We
wait here for the rest of the team,” Ivarus said.
“No,”
Ashira said. He looked at her.
“Yes.”
“They
have Kirdan. They could start the extraction now for all we know.
We need to stop them,” she urged.
“We
need to have a sufficient force,” Ivarus said, erring on the side
of caution.
“Then
I'll go,” she said.
“No.”
“Yes!”
she said angrily.
“We
cannot lose you, too!”
“But
we have not lost Kirdan yet! We need to save him!” she said. She
did not understand why Ivarus was waiting.
“Ivarus,”
said the orange Egregia. “She is right. We must start now to save
the prince.”
Ivarus
was not sure why he did not want to go now. Perhaps, he thought, it
was something to do with jealousy over Ashira. He berated himself
for being so petty.
“Fine,”
he said. “We'll go. We'll need a plan, though, before we go
rushing in and get killed.”
“I'm
sure they know were here,” said brown.
“Yes,”
orange agreed.
“Perhaps
I could spy on them?” Ashira offered.
“Too
dangerous,” Ivarus replied instantly.
“Just
hear me out,” she said, seething. “I'll climb one of the taller
trees on top of the hill just by the ruins. That was I can look in
and see the layout. We could use the extra information.”
“It's
a good idea,” orange said. Ashira thanked him.
Ivarus
considered for a moment.
“Fine.
But I'm sending Viridan with you,” he said, and the man in dark
green stepped forward. He wore a long cloak that seemed to make his
figure come in and out of focus. “He can at least watch the base
of the tree for anyone coming up on you.”
Ashira
agreed, and the two set out. The trees loomed overhead and, for
once, Ashira felt frightened by the forest. As they rounded the base
of a hill, she heard a familiar sound.
Chanting.
“Wait,”
she whispered, pausing. Viridan obeyed. “I've heard that chanting
before,” she recalled. “Weeks ago, on my way to Barath with my
maestro. We must not be far from home, then!”
She was
excited at the thought of being so close to Arthoir and Clarris.
Happiness surged through her body as they continued on, climbing the
next hill to its crest. Ashira climbed a tall pine and perched in
its upper branches.
The
ruins lay to their south. She could see a large bonfire blazing in
the middle. It lighted the pale, chanting faces around it and cast
their shadows onto the crumbling walls beyond. The holes in the
walls made for multiple entrances, including two on the south side,
one on the east, and a door on the west. Ashira could see an altar
on the west end. Upon it lay a figure, bound with its hands behind
its back.
“Kirdan,”
she whispered.
She saw
a shorter figure standing near him on the ground. She figured it was
the old witch.
A
movement on the east end caught her eye. A group of hooded men with
Zagalis in front was leading a line of chained people into the ruins.
Ashira could tell from their garb that they were likely Acustians
from a nearby village. This worried her; her village was not far
from these ruins.
She
tried to freeze the image in her mind, so she could give details to
Ivarus, then climbed down.
“What
would they need with Acustians?” Ivarus asked her a few minutes
later.
“I
don't know, but I'm worried they are from my village,” she said.
“Perhaps
they could be an asset to us if we freed them. They could fight for
us,” orange said. Ashira thought to herself that she really needed
to learn their names.
“If we
can free them, yes,” Ivarus agreed.
“I can
do it,” Ashira said. “I can break their chains using magic.”
“Yes,
but how do we get you to them?” he asked.
“I can
stand just on the other side, on the South, and cast it from behind
the wall. You guys could rush at the same time from the West door.”
They
discussed for a couple more minutes, then Ashira reminded them that
Kirdan was already on the altar. They settled the last detail of who
would stay outside the ruins and wait for reinforcements, which ended
up being the brown Egregia, then headed toward the ruins.
Ashira
and Viridan hurried around to the south end, making as little noise
as possible. They pressed themselves against the south wall and
waited for Ivarus's signal. Ashira felt something hard digging into
her back, so she quietly took her pack off and opened it up.
She
pulled out the stone bird she had created in the pass. It still
looked very real. Its black eyes seemed to draw her focus, and she
had a hard time looking away. She put it back in her bag.
A harsh
voice rose above the eerie chanting, speaking a tongue foreign to
Ashira. She caught words here and there.
“Potere
delle stelle . . . commissario. Prendete la magia . . . degno.”
“What
did it say?” she asked Viridan, BTU before he could reply the
signal came.
A loud,
piercing whistle floated over the ruins to their ears. Ashira closed
her eyes and felt the familiar warmth spreading through her body.
She could sense the chain beyond the barrier of stone behind her.
She imagined each link, made of iron, that connected the prisoners.
She did not hear the shouts coming form the east side of the ruins as
Ivarus and the others stormed in.
In her
mind's eye, she broke all the links at once, splitting them in half.
A resounding crunch told her she had succeeded. She felt
light-headed for a moment and went to one knee while Viridan went
around the crumbling wall and into the ruins He shouted at the
prisoners to fight for their lives, and they replied with shouts of
defiance at their captors.
Ashira
stood and followed Viridan's path into the ruins.
There
was fighting all around as men in brown robes fought Ivarus and the
prisoners. Zagalis was locked in battle with a man, but Ashira could
not see the man's face. Seren Tuwil was still standing over Kirdan,
who looked to have been tortured. A soft white light was emanating
from both of them. As she watched, a ball of the same light began to
rise from Kirdan's back. He started convulsing violently.
Ashira
ran at the witch, dodging fighting figures and ducking spells. She
reached the altar and collided with Seren, knocking her to the
ground. The ball of light sunk back into Kirdan and he relaxed, but
continued to glow.
“Nasty
little girl!” Seren shrieked. She struggled and pushed Ashira off
to one side, then sprang to her feet, surprisingly spry for one so
old. Ashira crawled away and hid behind a pile of debris. She heard
Seren chanting and felt her hair stand on end.
Ivarus,
only meters away, also felt his hair stand on end. He glanced over
and saw Seren chanting, facing Ashira's hiding place. Thinking
quickly, he picked up a nearby rock and threw it at the old witch.
It hit her raised hand, breaking a couple fingers on impact.
Ivarus's hair returned to normal.
Seren
howled in pain and looked his way. She chanted a short verse in her
strange tongue and he felt his limbs growing heavier. He tried to
lift his sword, but could not. He fell to the ground, laboring to
breath. It felt as though his body weighed four times it normally
did.
Ashira
looked out from behind the rocks and saw Ivarus on the ground.
Something moved inside her pack, and she pulled out the stone bird.
It squawked at her and took flight , diving at the old witch. Seren
saw it coming and dodged to one side. It continued to attack,
causing the woman to cast spells and evade its dives.
While
she was distracted, Ashira rushed over to Kirdan. He was breathing
calmly, out cold on the altar. She hoisted him the stone slab and
onto the soft grass at its base.
“Kirdan!”
she said, shaking him gently. His head lolled, but he did not wake.
Ivarus
watched as the went to Kirdan's aid, a stab of jealousy rising
unbidden at the fact that she had rushed to the prince and not
Ivarus. He shook it of and stood. Seeing Viridan in trouble, he ran
to aid his comrade.
Ashira
had not noticed Astor and the other Egregia joining the
battle. The hooded men and those fighting them were even now in
numbers, but not skill. The Acustians could not match their
abilities, just as they could not match those of the Egregia.
Ten Acustians had fallen, while only five hooded ones had fallen by
their hands. The Egregia had dispatched ten of the hooded men
already.
The
spotted nutcracker was able to blind Seren in one eye before she
finally hit it with a blast of wind, knocking it into the stone wall
and breaking off its wings. It squawked helplessly on the ground.
Ashira
heard the crunch and turned to face the woman. She was bleeding from
multiple wounds to her face where the bird had pecked at her flesh.
“You
will pay, child!” she shrieked. “I may not be able to kill you
yet, but you will pay dearly!”
Ashira
felt the wind get knocked out of her as Seren chanted a short verse.
As she leaned forward, her body started to drag her down, weighing
more and more by the second. She struggled to take a breath. She
felt her hairs stand on end and bright light seemed to shine into her
eyes, nearly blinding her. Seren chanted furiously, casting spell
after spell on Ashira.
Zagalis
was fighting the leader of the Acustians, who had found a sword lying
near one of Seren's acolytes. The man fought furiously, as if
defending his own family. Zagalis got finally was able to cut him in
the sword arm, making him stagger backward. He was about to finsh
the man when a woman in black stepped in front of him. She used a
staff with two blades at either end, spinning it around her body.
Her control was precise, and Zagalis was on his guard. They fought,
he mostly dodging her swift stabs.
The
leader, Arthoir, had heard a shriek and looked behind him. There,
lying on the ground, was his daughter. Her hair was a bit dark, but
there was no mistake. That was Ashira.
Forgetting
his bleeding arm, he stood and ran at the witch, raising the sword in
his good hand.
Ashira
saw her father charging the witch, but could not call out to him to
warn him. Suddenly, the weight lifted from her and she watched as
her father fell to the floor of the ruins. Seren had focused her
next spell on him, and it had knocked him out.
Kirdan
stirred. He heard sounds of fighting all around, and it hurt his
ears. He opened his eyes slightly and saw Seren Tuwil standing over
Ashira, chanting. As he watched, she changed her focus onto a man
that was rushing her. He fell. Kirdan felt himself waking more, and
leaned up on one elbow.
Ashira
was in trouble. He needed to help her. He got to his knees and
looked at the witch.
“Hey!
Wench!” he called at her, swaying a bit. She looked at him and
snorted derisively. “Why not face someone as powerful as you
instead of picking on them?” He stood slowly, putting his hand on
the altar behind him for support.
“Kirdan!”
Ashira said, looking at him from her hands and knees. She was
breathing hard, trying to catch her breath.
“Ashira,”
came Arthoir's mumbled voice. She turned to look at her father.
“Take
care of him. I'll get this witch,” Kirdan said as Seren approached
him, chanting. He felt a strange buzz in his muscles. His body
began to glow and he became weak. He fell to one knee as convulsions
overcame him.
Ashira
leaned over her father.
“Dad!
Are you all right?” she said, cradling his head in her lap.
“Ashira,”
he said again, weakly. He coughed.
She did
not see Zagalis approaching from behind, bleeding from multiple stab
wounds, raising his sword.
