A Slave to Magic (23 page)

Arsden lobbed
another attack, this one absorbed by the young man. Kwil rose to his feet, his
resolve strengthening. Arsden threw spell after spell, turning to all four
elements, but Kwil absorbed them all, restoring himself to full strength.

“Impossible!”
Arsden shouted, his face red with anger. “Humans can’t perform such magic!” Not
only were his magical stores dwindling, his pride was injured. This was no
Gatan who had come into his home. This was a mere human, a creature unworthy of
the dirt on a Gatan foot. With his options quickly running out, Arsden focused
his remaining magic into his shield.

Kwil approached at
a steady pace, his hands glowing with red magic. Unleashing a barrage of flame,
he pummeled the master sorcerer’s shield, weakening it until it burst in a
shower of red sparks. Arsden raised a hand to protect himself, but his magic
had run out. The young man had absorbed every drop.

“You should have
practiced more,” Kwil said with a grin. His opponent was finished, and he, a
mere human, had bested a master Gatan wizard. With one hand, Kwil locked his
opponent in place, forcing him to the ground. In his other hand, he summoned
fire, but the spell was not intended to burn. Instead, it formed itself into a
rectangle, spreading over the master wizard’s body.

“What are you
doing?” Arsden shouted, lifting his hands to touch the magic. He felt a solid
wall of heat surrounding him, encasing him with fire magic.

“Release the slaves
from their enchantment!” Kwil demanded.

“I will not,”
Arsden spat.

“Then you will rot
in this prison,” Kwil threatened.

Fuming with rage,
Arsden demanded, “Release me!”

“Your prison will
unlock when you’ve freed those slaves,” Kwil replied. As he spoke, a feeling
came over him that he had not expected. An image of the enchanted slaves passed
through his mind, and his magical stores tingled. When he placed Arsden under
his own command, Kwil had gained power over the slaves as well. Squeezing his
eyes shut, he focused his magic toward the slaves.
You are free,
he
projected with his mind. He could feel them responding, their own free will
returning to them. Turning back to Arsden, he said, “It looks like I didn’t
need you for that after all.” With a smile of triumph, he released white magic
over Arsden’s immobilized form.

The master wizard
could not resist, his eyes sliding closed as he looked upon Kwil’s smiling
face. He fell into a fitful sleep, his mind full of hate.

Kwil’s eyes scanned
the room, searching for any chest or coffer that might hold Arsden’s jewelry.
There, on the mantle, stood a small golden box, and Kwil knew he had found the
treasure he sought. Opening the delicate container, he pushed aside a ruby ring
and a sapphire necklace. A single medallion of silver lay at the bottom, his
mistress’s energy radiating from it. Gently lifting it from its resting place,
Kwil clutched it in his hand. He had done it. His mistress would be pleased.

Tucking the
medallion away in his pocket, he hurried down the stairs and out the front
door. There was another task to be done.

N
era stepped
softly as she made her way to the rear of the manor. Remaining in a low crouch,
she hoped to avoid any eyes that might be searching for intruders. It was
unlikely the dogs were the only guards in this area.

Before her spread a
series of pits dug deep into the ground. A few of them lit with torchlight, she
could clearly see humans inside. As she moved closer, she could see some of the
figures were pacing, all of them chained by either wrists or ankles. Another
cry caught her attention, the scream of a woman in agony. Scanning her
surroundings, Nera proceeded toward the source of the cry.

Only a few yards
ahead, two guards dressed in leather armor strode heavily across her path,
forcing her to flatten herself against the ground. She held her breath as they
passed by, neither taking any notice of her as she lay still in the darkness.
Turning her head, she saw other sets of guards, all in pairs, pacing along the
edges of the pits.

Another scream from
the woman forced Nera back to her feet, her leg muscles complaining about the
crouched position. Regardless of the pain, she had to stay low and keep her
movements slow and steady. Otherwise, she risked discovery and severe
punishment.

Ahead in the
darkness, she could see three torches burning in a small wooden structure.
Inside was the sobbing of a woman and the rattling of a chain. Nera’s heart
leapt to her throat, her ears tingling as she listened for any clue to how many
guards might be inside. She heard only one muffled voice, aside from the woman.

Approaching the
structure with caution, Nera knelt low and brought her face close to the wooden
slats. With one eye, she could see between the boards, the image playing out before
her of a Gatan towering over a chained human woman. The Gatan drew back his
hand, striking the woman across her face. She did not cry out, instead hanging
her head and remaining silent. She had no strength left to react. Swaying a
moment, the woman toppled over onto the dirt floor.

The Gatan proceeded
to kick the woman, and Nera could no longer sit still. Taking to her feet, she
charged inside, not caring whether she was seen.

“Who the—” the man
started to say. He never finished his question. Nera grabbed the torch nearest
the open door and swung, slamming it against the side of his head. He dropped
to the ground unmoving. The human woman scrambled to her knees, her eyes wide.

“Don’t worry,” Nera
said. “I’ve come to help you.” She searched the man’s unconscious body for a
key but found none. “Where do they keep the keys to your shackles?” she asked.

The woman shook her
head, tears flowing from her eyes. “I don’t know,” she whispered.

Nera looked around
the room but saw nothing that would be helpful. “I’ll find the key or I’ll find
an axe,” she said. Pausing before she walked out, she said, “I’ll be back for
you.”

Outside it appeared
none of the guards had heard anything. They paced as they had before, lazily
strolling from pit to pit. Choosing the pit farthest from any guards, Nera
broke into a run. A man sat inside, gnawing away at a crust of bread. Startled
by Nera’s sudden appearance, he dropped the bread, and retreated to one side.

“I’m here to help,”
she said. “Do you know which guard has the keys?”

The man stuttered a
moment, then said, “In the tower.” He pointed to a tall structure at the
farthest end of the pits. “He’s always there, leaning on the rail and twirling
them on his finger.” He spat on the ground. “He’ll be armed,” he cautioned.

“So will I,” Nera
replied, her voice confident. Leaning against the side of the manor, Nera
spotted her weapon. It was only a spade, probably used by slaves to dig their
own pits, but it had been forgotten and left in the open.
Idiot guards,
Nera thought. One of the slaves could have grabbed it and taken out his
revenge. Instead, it awaited Nera’s arrival, its wooden handle sturdy, its iron
blade dull but heavy enough to do serious damage. Grabbing the weapon, she
checked the position of the guards before proceeding toward the tower.

Keeping a close eye
on the tower window, Nera crept closer to its base. She saw no one looking out.
Silently she ascended the winding staircase, holding the spade against her
chest. As she climbed higher, her foot encountered something abrasive, likely
sand or pebbles, her footsteps no longer silent. Each breath came more rapidly,
but still she continued despite the scuffling sound on the floor above her.
Then, a figure stepped out in front of her, a blade held at the ready in its
hand.

“Who goes there?” a
male voice asked.

Nera did not reply.
Instead, she clutched tightly at the spade, readying herself for a fight. The
man moved down a few steps, his eyes taking in the intruder.

“A woman?” he
asked, surprised. He lowered his dagger slightly.

Nera saw her
opportunity and didn’t hesitate. She brought the spade up, connecting its
handle with the man’s face. He cried out in pain and staggered to a lower step.
Nera walked past him and turned, bringing the spade down against his back. The
guard shouted and tumbled roughly to the bottom of the stairs. Nera raced down
after him, turning his limp form over to search for the keys. Attached to his
belt was an iron ring with four keys. She took notice of the blood on the man’s
head, but he appeared to be breathing. Feeling little sympathy, she yanked the
keys from his belt and headed back to the slave she had spoken to.

“I got them,” she
called to him in a low voice.

The man looked up
at her in surprise. Raising his wrists toward her, he allowed her to unlock the
shackles. Beneath the metal, his skin was red and raw. He rubbed at them
slightly and said, “Thank you.”

Removing one of the
keys from the ring, she handed it to the slave. “Go and free as many of the
others as you can,” she said.

The man nodded and
took the key before creeping toward the nearest pit. Nera ran back to the
wooden building where she had left the woman. The guard was still unconscious,
and the woman had not been moved.

Kneeling next to
her, Nera unlocked her shackles. “Can you walk?” she asked.

The woman nodded
and rose slowly to her feet. Her gait was unsteady, but Nera did not have time
to carry her.

“Stay close to the
others,” Nera said. “I’m getting you all out of here.”

Stepping outside
the building, Nera’s eyes immediately caught sight of a scuffle in the pits.
Two of the guards had been alerted and descended on the unshackled slaves. From
the corner of her eye, Nera saw the man she had freed. He was still unlocking
slaves, avoiding the guards entirely.
Good,
she thought.
The more we
have free, the more that can fight these guards.

Lifting her spade,
Nera charged toward the guards, striking one on the side of his head. He
crumpled into a heap, the slave he had been fighting unable to believe his
eyes. His face was covered in fresh cuts, but he ignored the pain, leaping at
the second guard. Nera lifted her spade again, but another slave jumped in to
help, blocking her chance for a clean blow. Together the slaves pummeled the
guard until he dropped, then quickly scampered out of the pit.

“There are dogs
too,” the injured slave warned.

“I already took
care of them,” Nera replied. She removed another key from the ring and passed
it to him. “Unlock anyone who isn’t yet free,” she said. Looking around, she
realized there were over a hundred human slaves here, and it might take longer
to release them than she had thought.

The first man
returned after unlocking nearly thirty slaves. “There are more guards coming,”
he shouted. “The noise has surely woken them by now.”

“Then we have to
unlock as many humans as we can so they can join the fight,” she replied.

With a nod, the man
ran off to continue his mission. Nera stopped a passing slave and handed her
the final key. “Free everyone you can find,” she said.

Not far from her
position, Nera saw a blast of red light. In the sudden flash, she could just
make out Kwil’s form. He was fighting the guards as well, throwing fire at the
men as they exited the guards’ quarters. Sighing in relief, Nera could not be
more grateful. There would be no battle. Kwil had set the guards’ beds ablaze,
sending them running into the night.

Running toward the
source of the flames, Nera shouted, “It’s good to see you!”

“I got the
medallion,” Kwil said quickly. “I see you’ve taken care of everything here.”

“Almost,” she replied.
“There are still more slaves to unlock.”

Hurrying to the
farthest pits, Nera proceeded to use her key, while Kwil focused on magic to
unlock more slaves. A shout nearby alerted him to the presence of two more
guards, but he summoned the flames and threw it their direction. The two men
scattered, narrowly avoiding the fire. Losing courage, they ran in the opposite
direction, their better judgment telling them not to fight a sorcerer.

The first slave
reappeared, searching for Nera in the chaos. “My lady,” he said. “I’ve sent the
others to the property’s edge. Where do we go from here?”

“I’m not sure,”
Nera admitted. “And you can call me Nera.”

The man gave a nod.
“You may call me Dael.”

“When Kwil returns, we’ll ask him what to do
next,” Nera said. Her eyes searched the immediate vicinity for her friend,
spotting him near the edge of a pit.

Kwil finished freeing what he believed to be the
last person before scanning the area with magic. He visualized each pit, checking
for any signs of life. He saw no movement. The fire raged on at the nearby
guards’ quarters, but all of the men inside had fled. There was no one left,
save the few people still inside the manor.

Satisfied that everyone had made it to safety,
Kwil returned to Nera. The human male at her side gave him pause. He stared
intently into the man’s eyes as he slowly approached. “I know you,” he said,
the magic inside him flickering to life.

The man shook his head. “I don’t believe we’ve
met,” he said, wrinkling his brow. He had spent years in the pits, and many had
come and gone, but Kwil’s face was unfamiliar in the dark surroundings.

Kwil summoned fire in his hand and brought it near
his face. “What about now?” he asked.

Dael took a step backward, his sight fixated on
the young man before him. Kwil’s face was familiar. It was his own, at least in
his younger years. “It can’t be,” he whispered. “Kwil.”

“It is,” Kwil replied, stepping toward the man. He
embraced him as if he had known him forever.

“Does someone want to explain it to me?” Nera
asked, her hands on her hips.

Turning to his friend, Kwil gave her a soft smile.
“This man is my father,” he said.

Nera examined Dael’s face more closely. “You look
similar for sure,” she commented. “But how can you be certain?”

With a slight laugh, Kwil replied, “Magic.”

Dael made no effort to hide his tears. “In one
night I find not only freedom, but my son,” he said. “Your mother will be
pleased to see you.”

“You know where she is?” Kwil asked. “Tell me.”
This was a moment from his dreams. Not only had he found the father he never
knew, but the mother who visited his dreams was also alive and well somewhere.

“She wasn’t the same after they took you from
her,” Dael explained. “She no longer resigned herself to this life as I had.
She managed to break free and is a leader among our kind. She works with sympathetic
Gatans, ferrying our people to freedom.”

“You know of this, but you haven’t joined her?”
Kwil couldn’t believe his father would choose to stay behind willingly.

“I had not the courage to follow,” he admitted,
lowering his gaze. “But seeing my own child so brave, I have found new courage
this night.”

“I want to meet this mother of yours,” Nera said
to Kwil. “I’m sure you do as well. We could work with her to end this evil
practice once and for all.”

Kwil nodded. “I want that more than anything.”

“First we have to get this lot to safety,” Nera
said, indicating the gathered humans.

“Where will we go?” Dael asked.

Considering a moment, Kwil responded, “To Master
Rili.”

A broad grin spread across Nera’s face. “He’s
going to love having this group swarm by.”

“They can’t all go at once,” Kwil replied.
“They’ll draw far too much attention.”

“And we’ll be easy to track,” Dael pointed out. “A
group this size isn’t going to traverse the forests without leaving signs of their
passage.”

“Yes, they can,” Kwil replied. “I can cast a spell
over all of you, masking your movements.”

“You’re full of surprises aren’t you, Son?” Dael
beamed with pride.

“He’s studying to be a master wizard,” Nera
announced. “But all that aside, I think it’s time we get moving. Reinforcements
are bound to show up sooner or later.”

“Good point,” Kwil replied. “Let’s get moving.”

Joining the freed slaves, Nera, Kwil, and Dael led
them into the wilderness surrounding Arsden’s property. Pausing a moment, Kwil
used magic to draw a detailed map in the dirt to Rili’s manor.

“You should go to
him alone, Father,” Kwil said. “Tell him I sent you and follow his instructions
on how to proceed.” He had every confidence that Rili’s conscience wouldn’t
allow him to turn the freed slaves away. Rili had connections, and he would
know the best way to conceal everyone until they could get to safety.