Born to Magic: Tales of Nevaeh: Volume I Page 23

  Mikaal stared for only a second at the woman’s sprawled and broken body before turning to Areenna who was on her feet and running toward him. He caught her and held her to him for a moment before she drew back.

  “You are unhurt?” she asked quickly, looking at him through the darkness.

  “Me? You were the target.”

  A quarter of a minute later, Queen Atir, Laira and King Nomis rushed into the room, where they stopped short to look at the body of the black sorceress’s spy. Behind them the hallway filled with guards.

  CHAPTER 23

  TWO HOURS AFTER the attack by the dark sorceress’ spy, the five were seated around the table in the main eating chamber. King Nomis, no stranger to the dark powers, stared at his plate. His mood was one of deep anger, not at his guests, but that this vileness had been part of the keep’s staff.

  Nomis was a big man, even by Nevaen standards, with curly red hair and sparkling blue eyes: his skin was the shade of a roasted chestnut and his face was lined with the experience of too many battles. “How did this happen?” he asked his wife, who sat to his right. Laira, whose curly hair was the same fiery red as her father’s, sat to his left, with Areenna next to her and Mikaal between Atir and Areenna.

  Lifting a cup of steaming tea, Atir sipped and lowered it. It touched the table with a soft click. “I have been going over all my memories. She has been with us for years. She came to our dominion with her mother. Kana was but five at the time.”

  “From where?” Nomis asked.

  “I don’t remember,” Atir said. “But she has been here since. Her mother died four years ago, a fever my powers could not stop. Kana stepped into her mother’s position of housekeeper.” Her eyes went distant. When they refocused, she looked at her husband. “And what is even more troubling—no, more frightening—is I had no sense of darkness about her.”

  “She was well protected, if you could not sense the dark power within her,” Areenna said.

  “Roth was right at the council, when he said the evil from across the seas is becoming stronger. When do you leave?” Nomis asked Mikaal.

  “When this meal is done,” Mikaal responded.

  “I will assign a dozen of my men to accompany you,” the King declared.

  Before he could speak, Mikaal caught Areenna’s silent warning. “Thank you for your offer, but we must do this without creating attention. Your men would bring many eyes upon us.”

  Nomis turned to Atir. “Talk sense into them.”

  “He is right, they must travel quietly and alone. Attention is exactly what need be avoided.” She took her husband’s hand and squeezed gently. “You can help them, though, with their route. There is no one who knows the ways through Aldimor better than you.”

  Nomis looked from Atir to the two and nodded. “How planned you to go?”

  Mikaal pulled a scroll from the bag at his feet. He moved the dishes aside and spread the map on the table. “My father’s map of Aldimor shows several ways.”

  Nomis stood and went around the table to examine the map. “This is far more detailed than any I have. It is like seeing Aldimore from above…” His voice held an edge of awe at the complexity of the map. “I would travel this route for the first day,” he said, his broad fingertip traveling along a line representing a road. “There are only two small villages, and the area is sparsely populated—mostly by farmers.”

  “From there, you turn northeast, along here. There is no road I know of, but the way is clear: unsettled woodlands, meadows and rolling hills—easy enough for kraals. This route will bring you to the narrowest part of the wastelands and leave you only a day of travel to reach the Landing. The land will flatten at that point. Be wary, outcasts roam freely. Make sure you have water and food. The last miles before the Landing will be the ruins. There are many strange things living there…many. Not even outcasts go into the ruins. The ruins are forsaken and within them are unspeakable dangers, especially without a full complement of men to go with you,” he added, eyeing Mikaal carefully.

  “Again, I thank you, but we cannot accept the offer. We will manage.”

  Areenna and Mikaal took leave of their hosts, exiting Dees the same way as they had entered, cloaked with hoods raised to shadow their faces.

  They followed Nomis’ directions and reached the narrow dirt road leading to the wastelands. As Dees faded behind them, Mikaal asked Areenna about what happened in her bedchamber.

  “When I saw the woman coming at me with the knife, and you defending me, I reacted…instinctively. I wasn’t even aware of calling on my power, but I did, with more strength than I knew I had.” Her voice was low and thoughtful. “But if you hadn’t called my name…”

  He shook his head. “I didn’t call your name. I thought it.”

  “No matter how, I heard you.” She fell silent.

  Mikaal gazed at her. Her head was bent slightly and he sensed a deep sadness within her. “She meant to kill you, Areenna. You should feel no guilt about what happened.”

  Areenna looked at him. Her golden flecked eyes revealed a heaviness he had not seen before. “She was so young.”

  “But older than you,” Mikaal reminded her. “Do not forget it was she who chose to align herself with them.”

  “You are right,” Areenna said.

  <><><>

  Roth looked up from his map as Enaid sliced the meat for their morning meal. “We have a choice. We are a day from Dees and at least three days from the Landing, perhaps a half day less if we ride until dark each day. Are you sure about Dees?”

  She studied Roth, reading his worry. “Why do you ask? We have decided.”

  He took her right hand into both of his. “I can’t explain, but I think something isn’t right. I…” Roth took a deep breath. “I have this feeling that we must go to the Landing, not to Dees.”

  Enaid studied him carefully. In all the years they had been together, there had only been one time he had had a premonition. It was during the final stages of the war and because of it, they had avoided a terrible ambush.

  “Explain,” she said.

  He spoke for several minutes, trying his best to express his thoughts. When he finished, Enaid leaned toward him and gave him a gentle kiss. “We shall go to the Landing. I will send Atir a message to meet us there.”

  Roth nodded in relief. “What disturbed you this morning? I heard you waken earlier.”

  “I am not certain. This block on Aldimor interferes with my ability to sense things at a distance.” She shook her head. “It was a feeling of menace—a threat woke me. Something happened.”

  “To Mikaal?”

  “I don’t know. But whatever it was has passed. Somehow I know they are all right.”

  “Then we had best finish here and go on our way. The bird is still here for the message?”

  Enaid smiled at him. “Yes…My Lord,” she added with a smile she did not feel. She hoped Atir would release the block soon.

  <><><>

  By the evening of the second day of travel, Mikaal and Areenna were at the eastern edge of Aldimor. Ahead of them, at the base of long rolling hills, were the wastelands. Although the green carpet of wild grass did not end abruptly, the line of demarcation was boldly visible nonetheless. No trees grew in this wasteland. The grasses there were brown and straggly, and what did grow looked strange. The ground was rocky, more gravel than sand, and there was a low, shadowy haze hanging above the ground.

  Their route was not on any road marked upon a map, rather they had followed an old kraal-trodden path paralleling a stream through the higher mountains and then down, into rolling hills. As they came closer to their destination, Mikaal called a halt where the stream became narrower, turning into thin rapids and eventually into a small brook, which dried out short of the wastelands.

  They had left the woods a quarter mile behind, and as they entered the wasteland, Mikaal said, “I think it best if we go back to the woods to make camp. There is more protection.”

  “I sense
no danger here, but I think you’re right.”

  They returned to the woods, set in a low hollow between two hills, and made camp near the brook. The woods themselves were sparse, but afforded more shelter than the open hillside.

  “Once we enter the wastelands, Atir’s protection will be lost,” Areenna said. “We will have to be more on guard. This is the last safe place we will have. The wraiths will be waiting.”

  “Then we stay vigilant.” He glanced at the darkening sky. “My muscles are stiff, I need exercise.” He hesitated before saying, “And today is the last time I will have to work with you on the sword. Are you able?”

  “Why would I not be?” she asked, going to Hero and removing her bags. “Let us set up camp before we practice.”

  She carried her bags to a level spot between two wide-spread trees. One, a large gazebow offered a multitude of strong branches for Gaalrie’s evening perch. Mikaal joined her with his belongings and together they began to set up the camp.

  Twenty minutes later, Mikaal stood in an open area, his sword held point down. Areenna stood across from him, her smaller blade held in her right hand. He stared at her, his eyes fixed on hers, his muscles tensing. “No games this time. I need to know how well you can handle yourself.”

  “You have trained me, you should already know,” she retorted. “Do your best.”

  “No powers,” he warned.

  She smiled. “No magic,” she agreed. Her eyes narrowed intently and she braced herself for his attack.

  Mikaal hefted the sword and charged. He came at her with a raised sword and as it descended, she twisted slightly and spun under his blade deflecting it smoothly. With her next breath she whirled and struck at him. He flicked his wrist and their swords met with a loud crash. Each backed away.

  “Not bad,” Mikaal said an instant before he came at her again. This time his sword wove a figure eight; the low remnants of daylight glinted from the blade. Areenna backed away, watching his eyes, not the blade. When his attack came it was with such blinding speed his sword almost slipped past her defenses. She caught his blade at the last instant and battled back, swinging cross-wise to block his sword.

  The fight went on, each blocking the other’s attack. Then she sensed a change in him. His aura went deep. She saw the sweat beading on his face and knew he was going to attack with all his strength.

  A sudden ripple of fear went through her. Was he losing control? Was he getting battle fever? And then he charged. She fought with all her strength, evading his blade where possible, halting it with her own when he got too close.

  “Stop!” she cried, her breathing forced, her chest rising and falling with the efforts of the fight. She was filmed with perspiration—even her hands had become sticky with sweat.

  Mikaal stopped his swing and placed his sword tip down into the earth. “What?”

  “You go too far with this attack.”

  His eyes narrowed. His breathing was as labored as hers and his voice low and husky when he spoke. “Will your enemies stop because you cry out? Will they show you mercy? Remember the woman in Dees! Keep her in the forefront of your mind. You have much good in you, Areenna. You have what they lack—mercy, but they have none. They will do whatever is necessary to destroy you, to destroy Nevaeh. Now, fight!”

  He charged her then, brutally, using every ounce of his strength to defeat her. As she back-stepped to avoid his blade, sparring and deflecting the silvery flashes of metal flying at her, something changed within her. Her fears vanished and the pommel of her sword blended with her skin to become an extension of her hands.

  She planted her feet as he took an overhead swing at her. She blocked it, spun and struck at him. He barely caught her blade with his and twisted under it. And as he fought to regain his balance, she attacked.

  Everything disappeared from her sight except for Mikaal’s eyes and the sword in his hand. The fighting turned frenzied; sparks blazed each time their swords met. Areenna moved forward, her sword a hazy blur of metal and speed, striking at him with every step she took. And then, in one instant of pure clarity, she knew what he would do next and, as he struck at her, she ducked low, lunged forward and pressed the point of her sword into the first layer of the skin on his neck. The tip centered over his carotid artery.

  “You have me,” Mikaal said, lowering his sword.

  Areenna couldn’t speak; breathing was the only thing possible. A few moments later, while they stared at each other, she said, “You frightened me.”

  Mikaal nodded, his face was sober and no smile broke the planes of his lips. “That was my intention. You had to learn you could stand up to me.”

  “You would have cut me,” she stated.

  “If you had been one whit less willing to fight, yes.”

  “A hard lesson,” she admitted. “You have done your job, my prince. You have indeed trained me well.”

  “As you have me.”

  She stared at him, her insides twisting. “Not yet. I too have one job to complete this eve, for there is yet another step to be taken in your training.”

  “Can we eat first?” he asked. His stomach emphasized his words with a loud and long growl.

  Areenna laughed, the tension broken. “Of course.”

  They finished the remains of what they had taken from Dees as the full moon rose. The moon’s light was strong, illuminating their camp and the sparsely populated woods enough to see clearly.

  “It’s time for you to find your weapon.”

  He looked at her, his features puzzled. “Find it? It sits there,” he said, pointing to the long sword resting against the bole of the gazebow tree.

  She shook her head slowly from side to side in emphasis. “As you know every woman of power has a weapon. You have seen mine…but it has changed. How I know not, but it has. Remember what happened in the bedchamber. That was a part of my weapon. I have always been able to create a power, like a ball made of light is the best way to describe it. When I need to defend myself, I am able to…channel my power through my palms. But what happened in the chamber was more than I have ever experienced.”

  “And the shattered window? Was that it as well?”

  “It must have been. I can tell you my power has increased. How much, I haven’t any idea, but in the—has it been two weeks since that day at Tolemac?”

  “Almost ten, eleven days.”

  “But since we first joined there, and then with Bekar…I have changed.” She hesitated for a few seconds and then looked into his eyes. “We must find yours tonight. Tomorrow will be too late.”

  “How do we do this?”

  Areenna thought back to the end of her second year of training, when she had returned from school for the mid-summer holiday at Freemorn. Her mother had whisked her away that very day, into the forest at the start of the blue desert and over the next three days Areenna had learned how to access her powers for self-defense. While she was not supposed to learn this until after the end of school, her mother had told her she had reasons for training Areenna early, but no one was to know. Little had Areenna guessed it was because her mother had fallen ill a few months before and had known that the disease would take her life.

  The training had been the hardest thing she had done in her not quite thirteen year old life, but when she discovered her ability, it had been exhilarating and freeing.

  “We don’t have the training time my mother had with me, so it will have to be forced. The way of learning comes from need. When my mother trained me, she put me in dangerous situations. Even while she watched over me and guided me, she pushed me to the very edge of life. Do you believe you can handle such?”

  Mikaal studied her intently before he smiled. “You will be hard pressed to push me so far.”

  “This is not a game, Mikaal. It is the most dangerous part of training. My mother took a great risk when she taught me this, because she was not supposed to do so at my age, but there were circumstances…”

  Mikaal’s features sobered with un
derstanding. He took her hand. “I will handle whatever you must do. I trust you, fully. When I first saw you at school, you were sitting on the floor in front of old Thrumweld. When you answered his question about the Old Ones, there was something about you, something special. It wasn’t until the council at Tolemac when I understood.”

  “Understood what?”

  “How special you are,” he whispered. “You’re different from other women. Why, I don’t know, but you are. And I am different from other men.” He smiled. “But at least I know why.”

  “Then you’ll do this?”

  “I trust you.”

  “With your life?”

  He stared at her. He could feel his heart speed up and quickly curbed his thoughts. “With all.”

  Areenna could not respond. It took her several long seconds to nod. “Then we should begin.”

  “How?

  “Look only at my eyes,” she told him, turning fully to face him. When his eyes were locked with hers, she clenched her palms and drew on her power. It built faster than ever before and within a breath she was ready. Opening her palms, she released the power at him. The silvery white balls flew the short distance and hit him hard. He flew backwards for a half dozen feet, landing on his back and sliding another two feet. When he stood he saw her eyes were wide, and in them he saw danger.

  “Run, Mikaal! Run for your life!”

  CHAPTER 24

  ‘RUN FOR YOUR life!’ The words beat at his ears as mightily as the streaks of silvery white heading toward him. Mikaal could not believe the change in her from one second to the next. His shoulder was on fire from the strike, his left arm as well. He scrambled back from where he lay and pulled his legs under him.