Part 17 (1/2)

”Oh. That's nice . . . Myranda? Why did you come here?” she asked.

”I came because something inside of me told me that I would find someone very important here, and I was right, because I found you,” Myranda said.

She settled back against the wall, Myn climbed on top of her, and she wrapped the cloak around the both of them.

”Myranda?” Ivy said.

”Yes,” she answered, eyes closed and already slipping into sleep.

” . . . Thank you,” she said.

The words went unheard as Myranda dropped off into an exhausted slumber.

In Entwell, other wizards had begun to take notice of the events raging beyond their city. There were forces, bursts of mystic power, that could be felt even here. All agreed that a momentous time was upon them, but few could agree upon the deeper meaning. Eyes began to pour over the prophesy once more. The elemental had been summoned, that much was known. Was this truly the time presaged so long ago? Or would the events be scattered across years, centuries, or longer? Most eagerly awaited the answers. One was denied them.

When Deacon had provoked the unprecedented answer from Hollow, volumes of dense prophesy had been spilled forth. Most were even more indecipherable than those that had preceded them. It had taken much deliberation, but it was the decision of the Elder that Deacon's failure to alert others, and indeed his dismissal of those already present, was inexcusable. The missing words spoken that day would never be reclaimed, and it was solely his fault. As a punishment, Deacon was forbidden from viewing another word of the prophesy, or any other book. For five years he would not be permitted any apprentices or apprentices.h.i.+ps, and his casting gem was taken away. The primary goal of Entwell was to gather knowledge. His actions had violated that principle to the highest degree. As he had denied the world of knowledge, so he would be denied.

For a lifelong student such as he, this was devastating. For one so consumed as he had been since Myranda's departure, it was doubly so. He struggled to retain the pieces of a spell he had managed to a.s.semble in the weeks before the decision had been made. Permitted only blank paper, he recorded what he remembered and set about fabricating the procedures and affectations that might fill in the gaps. He had to be careful. The spell drew dangerously close to lines forbidden to be crossed. Days at a time were spent without leaving his hut. Shelves stripped of their books began to fill with loose pages covered in hasty revisions. The few phrases that he could recall of Hollow's last speech were nailed to the wall. 'A long journey, necessary and deadly, is made safely in a single step.' He had underlined 'single step' repeatedly. On the increasingly rare occasion that he left his task to eat, he would make his way to the waterfall, oblivious of the whispers of his fellow villagers. Most were convinced he had slipped into madness. He would eat, and as he did, he would stare at the waterfall. It would not relent for weeks, months even. Impossible to leave . . .

Myranda was shaken awake by Ivy. There was terror in the creature's eyes, and before she even spoke, Myranda could feel the flutter of fear growing in the pit of her own stomach.

”They are coming! They are coming!” Ivy whispered insistently.

”Who?” Myranda asked, suddenly wide awake.

”The teachers! I can smell them!” she said.

”So soon?” Myranda said.

Ether stepped from the fire and took on her human form.

”It was to be expected. A fort staffed by a General was likely to be resupplied and restaffed frequently,” Ether remarked.

With strength to spare after the hours of recuperation, she whisked into the form of wind and launched herself to the surface. Myranda tried to follow, but Ivy caught her by the sleeve.

”No. Don't go! Stay here with me! We can hide!” Ivy urged.

”Myn, keep Ivy safe. I need to find out what we are facing,” Myranda said.

Myn did as she was told, though she clearly wished to stay by Myranda's side. Dutifully planting herself in front of the frightened creature and fighting off an unfamiliar and unwelcome fear of her own, she faced the stairs to the surface. Ivy crept up and hugged the dragon's neck.

”Don't let them get me Myn. Don't let them get me,” she whispered.

The dragon s.h.i.+fted uncomfortably. She wasn't certain she liked this newcomer, but she had been given a job to do.

Myranda squinted her eyes against the wind. They had slept through most of the day. The failing light showed a few rows of soldiers and a pair of equipment sleds. Perhaps fifteen soldiers in all. They were nearmen. She could tell by the way they moved. Pulling the sleds were . . . wolves? At this distance she couldn't quite tell, but they seemed too large. There was one more, behind the rest, but he seemed . . . different. Myranda pushed it out of her mind and considered her options. She was well rested now, and Ether had some of her strength back. Victory was not out of the question if they were to clash, but it would be best if battle could be avoided. Perhaps she could conjure some manner of illusion to conceal them. She weighed this option with a few others. None seemed likely to succeed. A moment later her decision was made for her. Ether drew herself back together into her flame form and streaked toward the soldiers. It would be battle.

Like a comet, the fiery form roared through the air. Swords and s.h.i.+elds were raised, but she still managed to destroy two of the soldiers with her first strike. The others scattered. Myranda approached the battle, but kept her distance, more out of fear of Ether than the soldiers. She was moving so swiftly, striking at soldiers one after the other with such intensity, that Myranda felt certain if she moved any closer she herself would be burned. The final row of soldiers, those nearest to the man who must have been their leader, drew back arrows. Two were aimed at Myranda, three at Ether. The arrows flew. Myranda threw up a hasty s.h.i.+eld spell that only just stopped them. Ether laughed as the first two flew uselessly through her burning form, but the third was different. The head glowed faintly, and when it pa.s.sed through Ether she shrieked in pain as a long stream of her flame seemed to follow it.

The injured being retreated to a position well behind Myranda. Eight soldiers remained, as well as the pair of what were most certainly no normal wolves. They seemed to be made of stone, and they were nearly the size of horses. Myranda conjured a wind as powerful as she could manage, hoping to force them back and away from the fort that held Ivy. The advancing soldiers began to slow, but the leader raised his hand and Myranda's spell instantly died away. She tried to restore it, but to no avail. Suddenly the stone form of Ether charged past her. The leader signaled for the wolves to be cut free. Both met the charging shape s.h.i.+fter. She knocked one aside and grappled with the second.

Myranda was forced to s.h.i.+ft her gaze from the spectacle as a trio of the soldiers drew near enough to be a threat. She thrust her staff into the snowy ground at her feet and focused her mind. Icy vines erupted from the ground and entangled the first of the soldiers, but before the others could be trapped the leader again swept the spell away. The single immobilized soldier fought at the vines. The tw.a.n.g of bowstrings released a second barrage of arrows, all directed at Myranda. She held up her staff and focused her mind on the arrows. Their paths s.h.i.+fted and struck the soldiers she'd attempted to entangle. Myranda looked away as they vanished into dust. The creatures would have killed her, and they were barely living things, but still she felt horrid that she had to kill them.

Another volley of arrows were launched. Myranda attempted to divert them but the leader's influence quickly righted them. She continued to fight against his will. She could feel his strength against hers. After a final burst of will, she dove to the side. The head of an arrow hissed through her cloak and across her thigh. She cried out. Her staff sunk deep into the snow as she tried to regain her footing. The pain was terrible. She struggled to keep her eyes on the remaining soldiers. They were approaching her. When she finally made it to her feet she was surrounded. She tried to summon a spell to mind, but the leader of the soldiers forced it away. He stood before her. The man looked more like a n.o.bleman than a soldier. His clothes were nothing short of regal, the kind more at home in a king's court than a battlefield. Nothing resembling armor adorned his body. He was either very stupid or very powerful. He had jet black hair and a face that would not be out of place on a statue of a G.o.d. With a gaze that seemed to cut through her, he surveyed his foe.

”Myranda Celeste. You are every bit the warrior I had expected. It is gratifying to meet you face to face. I am General Bagu, perhaps . . . ” he began.

Myranda pulled to mind the last of her skills she had learned in Entwell. With a thrust, she landed a powerful blow with her staff. The man reeled backward. The break in his concentration was enough to let through a blast of magic to scatter the other soldiers. She tried to get some distance between herself and the recovering men, but found herself eye to eye with one of the stone wolves. Claw marks scored the stony hide as it slowly moved toward her. It left behind a mound of shattered stone. Finally it stood still, awaiting a command. The real danger was behind her. She suddenly felt a crus.h.i.+ng force closing in around her. She couldn't move, she couldn't breathe. Her feet left the ground. Slowly she was turned. The five bowmen stood before her, arrows readied, their tips fairly pressing into her flesh. The leader approached her, fury in his eyes.

”You have found your way to the last of the original Chosen. Should more arise, you would have been valuable. But your threat outweighs your benefit,” he seethed. A pulse of will snapped one of Myranda's ribs.

She turned all of her own strength of mind to countering his. Despite her best efforts, the force was barely lessened. The best she could manage was to hold him off enough to stay alive.

”Destroy her,” the man ordered, deciding now was not the time for a battle of wills when a simpler means of execution existed.

Arrows were drawn back, but before they could fly, a charging form tore through the line of bowman. Myranda struggled to turn to see the form, but the force around her tightened. The air was forced from her lungs. The leader raised a second hand. At the very edge of Myranda's vision, the thras.h.i.+ng form froze.

”Clever,” he admitted, drawing the form nearer.

Now Myranda could see. It was the stone wolf. The fingers of the leader twisted cruelly. Waves of black swept over the body of the creature. It howled in pain, but behind the howl was a scream. Ether's voice. The stony form s.h.i.+fted slowly to the stone form of Ether as additional ma.s.s of the wolf crumbled away from the human shape at its core.

”You shall be an adequate prize,” he smiled.

Suddenly he turned. Anger flashed in his eyes. The form of Myn hung, writhing in pain in the air. Flames spewed from her mouth until it was forced closed. Myranda focused her mind. The spell that held her was astoundingly powerful. Ether had s.h.i.+fted to flame and now struggled with all of her considerable strength, yet the grip barely wavered.

”Let her go!” came a voice from behind him.

Ivy's club came down, but it stopped inches from the head of the man who held the others at bay. He turned and in a moment she too was suspended in the air. She began to scream in a combination of pain and terror. Myranda suddenly felt the hot sting of fear in her stomach. She had been frightened before. This was different. It was fundamental . . . primal. She felt it rise as Ivy's desperate struggling increased. Myn seemed to be similarly effected. It was as though Ivy's fear was spilling over to the others. Only Ether and their captor seemed unaffected. Soon the fear was almost more unbearable than the pain.

”Let me go! I can't go back! No! NO!” she cried.

The grip was loosening. Something about Ivy's struggles was having an effect. Suddenly there was a torrent of magic. It felt akin to the force that had been gathered to restore Ether, but it came all at once. A flash of blinding blue light filled the valley and a deafening shriek that swiftly faded to nothing echoed from all directions. The hold about them was released. Myranda fell to the ground. Ether did not. She blasted directly at the powerful man. He was quickly consumed in flame and lifted into the air. The fiery form hurdled through the air and into the ruined fort. A few moments and a series of earthshaking blows later what was left of the ruins began to cave in. A flickering form erupted from the flying dust and debris. Ether landed before Myranda. The flames of her body were weakening. The bright eyes wavered.

”Quickly . . . ” the voice almost pleaded.

”Myn, fire, NOW!” Myranda cried.

The dragon unleashed flame that seemed to wrap around Ether. After a second and third burst and the shape s.h.i.+fter seemed restored. She immediately s.h.i.+fted to wind and launched skyward.

”The leader is not dead. I intend to withdraw until I am better prepared to finish him. If you value your life, you will leave this valley,” Ether called out. Threads of fear were woven into her voice.

Before Myranda could object, the windy form had disappeared into the distance. The ruins were still collapsing. If that wizard truly had survived, Myranda hoped that the mountain of shattered stone would delay him long enough for her to escape. She closed the wound in her thigh, snapped her ribs back into place and healed them, and climbed to her feet. Myn rushed to her side to help her. She scanned the valley, but there was no sign of Ivy, save one. It was a single footprint, more than a dozen paces from where she should have landed. Where were the others? The last of the bricks of the fort crumbled into what was now little more than a pit filled with jagged stone. Deep beneath it, Myranda could already hear a deep rumble. She would have to move quickly.

Running in the direction the footprint faced, Myranda found another, more than one hundred paces on. Together they seemed to be indicating that Ivy had made her way down the mountainside along the steep but direct path that had been taken by the soldiers. Of course, with such ma.s.sive strides, running hardly seemed the appropriate word. Somehow Myranda would have to find a way down with similar speed or the leader who had nearly taken her life moments ago would be upon her to finish what he had started. Her eyes turned to the only other things in the valley, the supply sleds. They were small, the sort intended to deliver minor cargo. She turned one to face downhill.

”Myn, burn the other sled, then find Ivy. When you do, lead me to her,” Myranda said.