Stormwielder (The Sword of Light Trilogy Book 1) (19 page)

Bracing himself, Eric left thoughts of her behind and turned to Alastair. The old man’s aura was all but gone, reduced to a wan grey spark deep within his chest. A mere candle against the darkness.

Eric drifted closer, worry clouding his thoughts. His magic began to slip. Grimly he forced his emotion down and turned his mind to the problem. He grasped his magic in ethereal fingers. Slowly, it began to spin, thinning and stretching into a thin cord. It stretched out into the night, a thin blue tendril reaching for Alastair. Eric concentrated, forcing it on towards his mentor. The thread leapt forward, sinking into Alastair and wrapping about the dying grey spark.

As they met, a flash of light erupted across Eric’s vision. With a violent jerk, his soul hurtled back into the physical realm. He whimpered as the pain returned and exhaustion swept through his body. A dull ache began in his head.

Beside him, Alastair sat up on his horse. Michael jumped in shock and almost fell from his saddle. He recovered on the brink of tumbling to the ground. He opened his mouth, but could not find the words to speak.

Alastair gave him a curious look. “What are you doing here, priest?” he asked in a gravelly voice.

“I… I… Elynbrigge sent me,” Michael stammered.

Alastair nodded, eyes sweeping their other companions. “Inken, happy to see you have recovered. Did my old friend send you as well?”

Inken stared at him. She brushed a strand of scarlet hair from her face before answering. “No, I’m not sure why I am here. Maybe I will leave you in the morning,” she looked at Eric. “Maybe not.”

Alastair nodded. “Good enough,” he drew back on Elcano’s reins and dropped back beside Eric.

Eric smiled in greeting, warmth flooding his chest. Alastair looked like living death, his skin grey and eyes bloodshot, but the spark of life had returned.

“Thank you, Eric, for saving my life,” his face darkened. He leaned across his saddle. His hand struck out and slapped Eric hard across the face.

Eric lurched back and toppled from his horse. Agony lanced through his side as he struck the ground. He screamed. He looked up at Alastair through blurry eyes, mind reeling.

“Why?” He yelled from the dusty ground.


Never
do that again, Eric,” his voice shook with fear. “What you just did is forbidden to all but the greatest adepts. A little more energy and you would have burnt me to a crisp. Or worse, you could have spent too much of your own power and died yourself.”

Eric gaped, speechless. His head ached and not even Michael’s medicine could stop the pain from his wound.
I was just trying to help!
He wanted to say, but the words would not come.

Alastair closed his eyes. “I am sorry I hit you,” he turned his horse and rode past their stunned companions. “We’ll make camp here. Mornings not far off and we must be gone by the time the sun rises. Michael, it looks like Balistor needs your attention.”

The others dismounted and began to set up camp. Eric remained where he had fallen, too shocked to move. The blow had robbed him of his senses. He closed his eyes, fighting off tears.

Stones crunched as Inken sat down next to him. She carried a bag from which she drew a needle and thread. Eric’s sluggish mind quickly realised what it was for.

“I think your wound needs attention, Eric,” Inken offered in a kind voice. “I’m sorry about the gallop, it couldn’t have been easy.”

By the moonlight, Eric saw his shirt was damp with blood. He wondered what Inken was thinking, whether she was laughing at his embarrassment. Gritting his teeth, he pushed the thought down. “Michael’s potions must be strong; I didn’t even feel them tear.”

“Then I guess you won’t mind this,” Inken teased, lifting up his shirt to look at his side.

Eric scowled, not wanting to watch the procedure, but drawn by a morbid curiosity. Inken’s hands moved with practiced ease, taking a gentle grip of the inflamed skin. The thread trailed over her wrist, keeping it from the dirt. Carefully she pushed the needle through.

Eric blinked, realising he felt no pain. He watched as Inken weaved the needle through his skin, drawing the black thread tight with each stitch. Yet he felt nothing. It was the strangest sensation.

“He shouldn’t have hit you,” Inken ventured as she worked. “You were only trying to help him. And it worked, too.”

Eric did not offer a reply. He didn’t want to think about it.

It was another ten minutes before Inken finished the last of the stitches. She looked up, offering Eric a smile. “All done,” she whispered.

Eric smiled back, noticing now how close her lips were. Strands of her hair stirred as he exhaled sharply. The scent of her filled his nostrils. Her eyes caught his stare, trapping him in their hazel depths. He was suddenly very aware of the hard pounding in his chest, the surge of excitement in his blood. It was intoxicating, though he could no longer tell whether that was the potion, or the closeness of her body.

“Why did you save us, Inken?” he whispered, so close his lips grazed her cheek.

“For you, Eric.”

And she kissed him.

Nineteen

Enala crouched in the damp grass, staring into shadows of the forest. The first rays of the morning sun peeked above the treetops, casting the undergrowth in green silhouettes. Puffs of steam rose from the rain soaked earth. The stark slopes of the volcanic peaks towered above, the treeline beginning where the earth began to flatten out.

A shiver ran through Enala – not of cold, but exhaustion. They had walked for two nights and a day, putting as many miles as they could between themselves and Chole. They had crossed the mountains last night, the desert turning to forest as they marched in darkness. Her legs burned from the effort and her shoulders ached from the heavy pack. Gabriel had filled their bags with enough supplies for a week’s travel. If all went well, it would be all they needed.

She took a swig from her water skin, glad they had made it into the forest before sunrise. With the sun shining, the mountain walk would have become unbearably hot. They had crossed the northern slopes during the night. That had been easy hard enough.

Enala breathed in the crisp mountain air, savouring the scent. It had been years since her parents last brought her this way, though it had once been an annual trip. The trail was nearly indiscernible now, but she remembered it well. It was a treacherous path, edging along cliffs and loose boulders. She hoped it would prove fatal to any who followed them.

The way would be slightly easier now they had reached the trees. They were thin here at the base of the mountains, but would soon change to dense rainforest on the floodplains of the Onyx River. She doubted anyone would follow them once they crossed the river. It didn’t matter how determined they were, few had the courage to brave Dragon Country.

A shadow fell across her heart when she thought of the monsters who chased her. Shaking her head, Enala turned her attention to Gabriel. They had said little in the three days they’d spent hidden in the abandoned house. They had listened to the pounding rain, occasionally making clumpy attempts at conversation.

Enala had slowly risen from her chasm of grief, enough to think again, enough to plan. Yet a terrible distance still stood between the two of them, one she could not bring herself to cross. The wounds were too raw, the pain so strong her eyes watered.

His presence was welcome though. Better than being alone, when her thoughts would turn inwards, drawn down an unending cycle of self-interrogation and blame. The darkness of the basement clung to her still and at night she would wake screaming and thrashing, desperate to escape her sweat soaked blanket. Faceless men stalked her dreams, until she was terrified to close her eyes.

She flicked the copper lock from her eyes, forcing the black thoughts away. Gabriel was an enigma. He had appeared from nowhere, with a
wolf,
and plucked her from the darkness. Then he had saved her from his own beast. And she still had no idea who he was. That alone unnerved her.

“How are your legs?” Gabriel asked, breaking across her trail of thought.

“Fine,” she replied.

An awkward silence followed. Enala frowned, unable to find the words. Thoughts of Gabriel inevitably summoned pictures of the wolf, or the blank horror of her parent’s faces.

“Enala, it’s been five days. I’ve had enough of silence. Listen, I know what you’ve gone through –”

“You know
nothing
I’ve what I’ve been through,” Enala cut him off.

Tears sprang to her eyes. Terrible images rose from the depths of her mind. Bile rose in her throat, but it was too late to banish the thoughts now.

She turned on Gabriel. “How
dare
you tell me you know what this is like,” he words tumbled from her in a torrent. “
My parents were murdered right above my head!

Enala broke off, refusing to look at the man. She ran her hands through her filthy hair, gasping for air between half-choked sobs.

“I listened to them for hours,” she continued softly, her voice cracking. “For hours as their tormentors made them scream. I listened to their voices, the endless questions about children, about relatives. In the end, I prayed for their deaths, just so the nightmare might end,” the words were out before she could take them back. She had not even admitted those last thoughts to herself.

Gabriel reeled back before the fury of her words. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? What does that do for me?” her words dripped with acid. “My parents are gone, dead. I
wished
them gone, yet still they kept me a secret. That didn’t last long though and now there are people
hunting me
. I can never go back to my life. What does one, or a hundred, or a thousand ‘sorries’ matter to me?”

“I have no life to go back to either,” Gabriel ventured.

Enala blinked, thrown off track by his words. “What?”

Gabriel’s eyes never left the ground. “My home was destroyed by a storm. My parents, my fiancé, they didn’t survive,” he looked up, steel in his voice. “I may not have lost them as you lost your parents, but don’t you
dare
tell me I have no idea of loss.”

Enala watched a tear run down Gabriel’s cheek. Burdened by her own grief, she had not stopped to think of him. She remembered the basement, remembered Gabriel’s tears as they held each other. For the first time she felt a connection to him, a slender bridge spanning the chasm between them.

“I’m sorry,” the words came out without thought. 

Gabriel laughed. “Ay, sorries we both seem to have in plenty. I guess in the end we’re both just two sorry orphans. Friends?” he offered his hand.

Enala found herself smiling. Gabriel had a personality after all. For a brief moment, the day seemed a little brighter. She took his hand. “Friends,” she agreed. “It seems a long time since I’ve had one.”

“It is a lonely life without them.”

“Yes, but not quite so lonely with my parents.”

“Ay. We will have to make do with each other now though. Shall we press on?”

Enala glanced at the sun, her anxiety returning. They had been sitting there for close to an hour. Her body ached from the march, but her inner voice reminded her of the danger. The hunters were coming. They would catch them if they stayed still.

“Yes. I lost track of the time. We still have a long way to go,” she stood as she spoke, swinging her pack onto her shoulders.

“Where are we going?” Gabriel asked as they moved off.

“Somewhere safe.”

They made their way deeper into the trees, leaving the morning sun behind. The stunted canopy hung low over their heads, prickly leaves brushing against their clothing. They caught in Enala’s hair, forcing her to pull up her hood to protect herself. It was worse for Gabriel; the low branches meant he had to walk in half-crouch.

Gabriel’s fitness did not measure up to her own and he was soon puffing along behind her. He was also no forester, his heavy footsteps announcing their presence to the forest creatures long before they appeared. The trees rustled in the morning breeze and they heard the soft call of monkeys in the distance. Tiny insects flew at their faces and bit wherever their clothes did not cover.

“You know, ‘somewhere safe’ doesn’t really tell me much. I thought we were friends now.”

“We are.”

“Aren’t friends meant to trust each other?”

 

Eric grinned, although Gabriel could not see it. “Trust me when I say, its better you don’t know.”

Gabriel fell silent. Enala could almost picture his frustration. She wondered how long it would take for him to try again.

He broke the silence a few hours later. “Can you at least tell me how far off we are? This is not an easy trek!”

Enala laughed. The canopy had risen high above their heads now, making passage through the undergrowth far easier. They had reached the floodplains, though they stretched for miles in every direction. “It’s a good day’s walk through this forest, and it will grow denser again towards the river. We should get there late tomorrow morning, I think,” she brushed a leafy branch away from her face and ducked beneath it.

When she released it, the branch swung back and struck Gabriel square in the face. He fell backwards in surprise.

Enala looked back and chuckled. “Sorry, my fault. But you shouldn’t walk so close.”

Gabriel brushed the dirt and water from his clothing. Standing, he shot her a cheeky grin. “I’ll get you back for that one. And
I
don’t want to lose you in this forest. I’m a smith, not a woodsman. I’m not used to all these trees, I prefer
roads.

“Just wait until tomorrow. The trees by the river are younger and the seedlings grow thick beneath them. I doubt the path still exists either, so we’ll be fighting our way through.”

Gabriel groaned. As they continued deeper into the forest, Enala felt the tension falling from her shoulders. She embraced the music of the bush, feeling its magic all around her.
This
was her home. Let them follow her here if they dared.

Soon the light began to fade and Enala found herself battling to keep her eyes open. They had hardly slept in the last two days, nor during their time spent hiding in the city. In her dreams she found herself running, fleeing pale faced demons with knives dripping blood. Each time she slept, they gained more substance.

Even so, Enala refused to stop until night had fallen. By then the forest was thick around them. There was no way to see the mountains through the canopy, but Enala knew they would be far behind them now. They were closing in on their goal. It would only take a few more hours in the morning to reach the river.

They could not risk a fire, so they sat in the darkness and feasted on cold beef jerky. The air had grown humid as they dropped into the river lands, leaving them sticky with sweat and their clothes clinging to their skin. Enala almost found herself wishing for the dry heat of the desert. Tomorrow she would savour the chance to bath in the river.

“Enala, I want to thank you. You saved me, back there in the city.”

Enala looked up with a frown. “What do you mean?
You
saved
me
. The wolf would have killed me if you hadn’t injured it.”

“I wasn’t talking about that, but I will add my thanks for the chair as well. No, you saved my soul.”

“What do you mean?”

“The wolf, it was given to me by a demon.”

Enala’s breath hissed between her teeth. Her nightmares leapt into reality. She saw again Gabriel drawing his sword on her. She reached for her knife.

“Easy!” Gabriel raised his hands in surrender. “Let me explain. I think I’ve earned that much?”

Enala hesitated, before offering a short nod.

Gabriel sighed. “The demon corrupted me. It placed me under some kind of spell, made me something else. My memories were stolen. I’m only just starting to remember.”

“That’s horrible,” Enala could not relax, but the story called to her.
This has something to do with me
, she realised.

“I was my own fault. The demon offered me aid and I was foolish enough to take it. It gave me the wolf, I cannot remember why. It wanted you dead though, ordered me to kill you. But I couldn’t do it; something about you broke its spell.
You saved me
.”

Enala frowned. “Who was this demon?”

“I don’t know,” Gabriel shivered, though the air was still thick with heat. “I have never felt such an evil. I cannot think why I was so blind to accept its offer. It was not long after I lost my family. That time is all still a haze.”

Enala watched the shadows.
Who am I to these demons?
In a whisper, she asked. “What did it want? Why did it want me dead?”

“I don’t know. I think you were an unexpected opportunity though. I was meant to kill an old man, and a young one. Their faces are the clearest images I have left.”

“I wonder who they are.”

“They are in mortal peril.”

Like me
, Enala thought.
Maybe they are just as terrified, as confused, as I am
. There was nothing they could do for them now.

“Your parents were incredibly brave,” Gabriel changed the subject.

Enala sighed. “Yes. They gave their lives to save me, hid me seconds before the assassins found them. Somehow they withstood torture to protect me. I doubt I could have done the same.”

The leaf litter crunched. Gabriel eased himself down beside her and put an arm around her shoulders. “You were brave too.”

“No, I wasn’t. All I wanted to do was race up the ladder and save them. But I was frozen, too scared to move.”

“It would have broken their hearts if you had. They died in the knowledge they had protected their daughter, that you were safe. There was nothing you could have done for them.”

The night pressed in on them. Enala closed her eyes, leaning into Gabriel’s shoulder. She found some comfort in his words, though doubts still plagued her. They had raised her to be strong, to never run from an enemy. Yet here she was, fleeing for her life.

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