The Banned And The Banished - Witch Fire Part 12

"We all did. But it begins now. Time to put aside your books, old man."

"You leave me this ch.o.r.e?" he asked pleadingly. "To do alone?"

Her stern look softened. "Brother, you know I have my own role."

"I know: to seek the cursed bridge. But do you truly think you can find it?"

"If it exists, I will find it," she said fiercely.

He sighed and looked upon his sister. "Always the will of cold iron," he said with sadness, "even in death."

"Always the caster of dreams," she answered with a hint of a smile, "even alive."

Their lips formed twin smiles at the old argument, both so alike and yet so different. The pain of loss shone clear in each one's eyes.

Fila's apparition began to grow faint at the edges. "I can't hold here any longer. Watch over her." Her image faded to a vague glow. Her last words trailed as the light was vanquished by the library's shadows.

"I love you, Bol."

"Goodbye, Sister," he mumbled to a room far emptier and lonelier than before.

Elena rushed toward her struggling brother. Time seemed to thicken and slow like sap in a winter'smaple. She watched Joach's face turn a purplish hue, his throat closed in the claws of the skal'tum. Elena leaped and grabbed at the creature's wrist, a cry trapped in her chest. Blind with fear, she dug her fingers into its clammy skin, refusing to lose her brother to the beast. "Let go!" she shrieked to the world.

In answer, her hand burst with flame. Heat like the touch of molten rock flowed from her fingers. She clenched her fist and found her fingers flowing through the beast's wrist- through skin, muscle, and bone.

The creature howled and tugged its arm away, pulling back only a seared stump. Screeching, panicked by its maiming, it tumbled away from Elena and her brother.

Joach stumbled forward, pawing the severed hand from his neck. He threw it to the street. "Sweet Mother!" he blurted and dashed to Elena's side.

Elena's eyes flashed to her hand, expecting to see blackened bones and burned flesh, but all was normal-not even a hint of the red stain remained. Was she free of that curse?

"Run, El!" Joach cried. He hauled Elena toward the charred beams of the bakery.

But the howling beast was not the only menace on this street.

Joach skidded to a stop and pulled Elena to him. Between them and refuge stood the cowled man leaning on his staff. He wore a smile, as if this all served his purpose perfectly.

"Come to me, child. I've waited long enough." With surprising speed, he whipped the heel of his staff toward Elena's head.

Elena, her mind still muddled by the flow of power through her hand, could not quite comprehend the danger.

She stood frozen until Joach knocked her aside. With a gasp, she fell to the street, her knee striking the hard cobblestones. From the corner of her eye, she saw the staff smite Joach a glancing blow on the shoulder.

She scrambled to her feet, roused now, and began to flee. Joach, however, failed to follow. Elena swung to a stop and stared. Her brother's upper body tried to heave his legs into motion, but like two rooted trees, his legs would not obey.

He looked up, eyes filled with horror, and saw that Elena had stopped running. "Go!" he yelled.

She stumbled back as she saw the bewit'ching spread through her brother's body. Now even his arms couldn't move, and in a heartbeat, his neck and head froze in position. Only a single tear rolled down his cheek.

"Do you abandon your brother, child?" The old man beckoned to her with a gnarled finger. "Come!"

Townspeople fled past Er'ril as he fought his way toward the screaming. Like a rock in a fast-flowing river, he was buffeted by elbows and knees and could make no headway. Finally, Krai pushed forward and used his large bulk to forge a path ahead.

One of the townspeople, Er'ril judged him a butcher from his b.l.o.o.d.y ap.r.o.n, tried to pound Krai aside.

But with a shrug of the mountain man's shoulder, the heavy man flew far. His head hit the brick wall, and he fell limp to the ground. Krai ignored him and continued on."Run!" another townsman called to them. "The demon has come!"

"Krai gave Er'ril a stern stare, then hastened his pace forward. Er'ril, with Nee'lahn in his shadow, followed in the mountain man's wake. After several heartbeats, the street emptied around them, the crowd now fleeing behind.

"Use caution, Krai," Er'ril said softly. "We're close."

They crept to the next corner and used a farrier's wagon for cover. Er'ril peered over the edge of the cart to the street beyond.

His blood went cold. Only a stone's toss away, before the burned-out skeleton of a building, stood a beast he had hoped never to see again. Wings stretched taut in pain, the skal'tum howled and held a wounded arm to its chest.

Wounded? Er'ril slunk back under cover. Who could harm such a beast?

Er'ril saw Krai begin to pull the ax from his belt. It was too small a weapon against a dreadlord. Er'ril raised a palm toward the mountain man, warning caution and patience. Krai's brows knitted heavily.

Nee'lahn knelt beside them, peering down the street from under the wagon. "There are the children," she whispered, pointing between the spokes of the wagon's wheel. "Who is that man, the robed one?"

Er'ril looked and spied the two youngsters crouched before a cowled figure near the edge of a scorched building. Though the cowled one's face was hidden in shadow, Er'ril recognized the black robe. His lips thinned with menace. "A darkmage."

"Come to me, child," the robed figure said, his voice finally carrying to them as the shrieking of the skal'tum waned. "Or your brother dies."

The skal'tum stalked toward the young people. Its voice cut through the air like a thrown dagger. "Give me the boy. I will rip his limbss, one by one, from his body as the other brat watchess."

Another man, dressed in the red and black of the garrison, quaked by a rain barrel. "Do what the master's beast says, Dismarum! We don't need the boy."

"Still your tongue, Rockingham," the one called Dismarum spat. Whatever look the darkmage gave the man caused him to pull farther behind his barrel.

The skal'tum repeated his demand. "Give me the boy! I will taste his young heart."

"Demon!" Krai growled beside Er'ril, his voice thick with venom. Before Er'ril could raise a hand to stop him, Krai leaped forward over the wagon, his ax already raised above his head.

The skal'tum twisted to face the sudden a.s.sault.

The darkmage retreated toward the shadows of the burned building, his hand reaching for the young girl still frozen in place.

Fool of a mountain man! Before Er'ril could ponder his own response, his feet and heart betrayed him.

He found himself springing after Krai, his own sword drawn, prepared to join the battle.

Elena's eyes were fixed on Joach's. Though she was not bewit'ched like him, she could not flee. Other ties held her trapped to this spot. She refused to leave her brother's side, even when the cowled man reached a clawed hand toward her.But before his fingers could touch her skin, an elbow suddenly struck her chest and threw her backward.

A one-armed swordsman thrust between her and the old man. Tall, wide-shouldered, with the ruddy complexion of the plains people, he raised his sword. "You won't have her, darkmage!"

Before the cowled man could react, the winged beast screeched, drawing all eyes. The swordsman shoved Elena down as a wide wing ripped over their heads. "Flee, girl!" he yelled in her ear.

But her legs did not obey. Her heart, still attached by invisible bonds to the frozen Joach, would not budge. She crouched numb in the street.

Cringing, Elena saw a giant attack the winged monster, wielding an ax in a blurring pattern of honed edge and muscle. The winged demon retreated from his a.s.sault.

Suddenly a new hand rested on her shoulder. She looked up into the concerned face of a tiny woman.

"Come with me. Leave Er'ril to rescue your companion." She shook her head. "My brother!" was all that came to her tongue, an arm pointing toward Joach.

But the woman was stronger than she appeared and pulled Elena to her feet.

"Nee'lahn!" the swordsman called. He crouched on one knee, his sword raised toward the robed figure.

"Get her to safety!"

The woman called Nee'lahn laid an arm over her shoulders and whispered in her ear. Her words, almost a soft song, were unintelligible, yet somehow pierced through the cloud in her mind. They reminded her of the words whispered to her by the Old Man in the orchard. Elena found the woman's song freeing her legs, and she allowed herself to be guided away from the battle.

Nee'lahn coaxed the girl to the wagon's shadow. Could this be the one? the nyphai wondered. She sang in the child's ear, words she had been taught to woo the minds of humans. She brushed a strand of red hair from the child's face and stared into eyes the color of green growth. Could it be?

Once the girl was safely hidden, Nee'lahn returned her attention to the street. Er'ril had climbed back to his feet, and now the darkmage cringed from the sword's touch. Er'ril kept the cowled one from slipping away, but Nee'lahn noticed that they were both watching the battle raging between the skal'tum and the mountain man.

Krai attacked savagely, his swings wild and furious. But every strike was simply repelled by the beast's tough skin. No blood was shed.

Yet even though Krai's ax simply bounced off the creature, Nee'lahn noticed that the skal'tum appeared shaken by its previous injury. It kept the stumped arm far from harm, using wings to protect its flanks.

"Drive the skal'tum into the sunlight!" Er'ril called to his large companion. "There, you can wound it!"

With a furious feint, Krai switched the direction of his a.s.sault and soon had the creature retreating toward a square of sunlight. But the skal'tum seemed to realize the approaching danger and began to fight back.

Its intact hand swiped black claws at the axman. Krai danced back. Quick and agile on his feet, the mountain man managed to escape injury, but he also lost ground. The beast now stood farther from the sunlight.

The skal'tum screeched in satisfaction, regained its confidence, and continued to thrust toward Krai, driving him around, almost toying with him. Soon their positions were reversed. The mountain man, sweating fiercely now, backed step by step toward the sunlight. Krai gasped for air, bent in exhaustion.The beast spread its scabrous wings wide in victory, then swooped for the kill.

Nee'lahn raised a hand to her mouth in fright.

Krai suddenly darted backward with amazing speed-into the sunlight!

The creature drew up to the square of bright light and hissed at Krai. The beast balked at the sun's touch, staying just behind the shadow line. It stalked in a circle around the mountain man.

"There'ss nowhere to run, little man-thing," it said with laughter on its tongue.

Nee'lahn realized the creature was correct. The area of sunlight was a square island. Shadow lay on all sides. And in the shadows waited the beast.

Krai searched around, desperate for a solution.

Nee'lahn did the same. If the mountain man should fall, Er'ril would be trapped between the dreadlord and the darkmage. That must not happen! She twirled on one heel and grabbed up the tin top of a pickle barrel. Darting into another patch of sunlight, she caught the sun's reflection in the tin and tilted it so the sun's rays reflected into the face of the skal'tum.

The beast screamed and tried to dart away. Nee'lahn angled the tin to keep the beast in the light.

Krai seemed to realize his advantage and plunged forward with a bellow of rage. He swung his ax at the monster, striking the beast square in the neck. Exposed to the sun, the skin of the beast lost its dark protection. The blade sank home.

The beast stumbled back, pulling free of Krai's weapon. It clutched its neck as a river of black blood flowed from between its claws. Swaying on weakening legs, it tried to unfold its wings but instead fell forward into the sunlight, its foul blood hissing and bubbling as it stained the cobblestones.

Krai crossed to the collapsed creature, his ax raised high above his head.

Er'ril did not watch Kral finish with the skal'tum. He turned his full attention back to the darkmage. The sight of the black robe sickened his stomach. How could any man give himself to the black magick that had poisoned the land? Er'ril felt his blood heat with an anger he had not felt in over a century. He found it a not unpleasant sensation.

"Your pet is dead, mage!" he spat at the hunched man. "Release the boy, or suffer the same fate."

With his cowl bowed, the mage crept behind the boy and leaned heavily on his staff as if exhausted.

"You interfere in matters you could not begin to comprehend."

The darkmage raised his other arm, revealing the stump of a wrist. Shadows rushed to the mage and flowed up his robe to his arm. The darkness then pulsed to his empty wrist and congealed there. Like a black rose budding, an ebony fist grew atop his stump, formed of black shadows. "And you make threats that you cannot possibly fulfill."

Er'ril's eyes narrowed. "Just test me."

The darkmage opened his malignant fist. Fingers that drank the light stretched out. "One final time: Give me the girl. You don't know what she is, what she means."

"I refuse to do your bidding, foul one." Er'ril raised his sword but held his position, fearful of injuring the frozen boy.The darkmage switched his staff to his black fist. From his loathsome hand, the darkness swept down the gray wood until the entire shaft flowed with shades of night.

As Er'ril prepared for battle, the cowled figure instead put his hand of flesh on the boy's shoulder.

"Leave the boy be!" Er'ril shouted, and rushed the man, determined to stop him before he harmed the youth.

The darkmage threw his head back, his cowl falling away, and for the first time, he stared Er'ril full in the face. Their eyes met, freezing Er'ril's heart.

No! Er'ril stumbled to a stop. This could not be! His sword slipped down, sc.r.a.ping the cobblestones.

The robed figure raised his staff and struck the street. Blackness erupted up from the cobblestones to swallow mage and boy. The voice of the darkmage echoed up from the shadows. "Er'ril, have the ages taught you nothing? "

In a blink, the well of shadows vanished like a black flame extinguished. Where the boy and the mage had stood, the street now lay empty.

Er'ril sank to his knees as the young girl shouted behind him, her cry full of anguish and tears.

Er'ril, though, barely heard her. His eyes still saw the face of the darkmage. It was a familiar face: the same broken nose, the uneven cheekbones, the thin lips. And then there was the stumped wrist.

He remembered the man crouched with his brother in a warding of wax drippings so long ago-the night the Blood Diary had been forged.

The darkmage's true name tumbled from Er'ril's lips. "Greshym! "

Book Two

HEARTHS AND HEARTSTONE.