Born to Magic: Tales of Nevaeh: Volume I Read online

  Even as she’d spoken, lightning leaped from her hand and streaked toward him. He turned, pushed off with his feet and ran. He made it ten yards before he was struck in the back. He hit the ground. His cheek scraped across the hard grass. Without thinking he rolled to his left just as two more white balls hit the ground where he’d been. Gaining his feet, he raced for the protection of the woods. He slid behind the first tree as more of her hellish power struck. He felt the tree shutter and as it did, he raced deeper into the woods. When he was far enough in, and no white streaks flew at him, he stopped to catch his breath.

  How do I defend myself against this? His mind sped through all the possibilities, but he already knew the answer lay buried somewhere inside of him. Looking around the bole of the large tree he was using for cover, he searched for her, but did not see her anywhere. Would she really hurt him? He knew the answer, because she, like he, would do whatever was necessary to teach him.

  Moving carefully, he began to wind through the woods, looking for something to protect himself. Then he stopped dead. Think! He ordered himself. Think!

  <><><>

  Areenna waited until he was deep in the woods. She knew exactly where he was because he had not tried to erect any sort of block. He had not yet reached that point of desperation. She had been careful not to injure him, but it had been difficult because whatever had happened to her over the past days had increased her powers beyond her comprehension. She was certain this new found strength had come from Bekar—a gift bestowed while she had been in that strange half sleep-half daze cast upon them on the old highway. But it made her aware she must exert very tight control over herself.

  She cast outward, seeking him, and a moment later found him hiding behind a large tree. She sensed he was trying to work out what was happening and what he needed to do. And then he was gone. “Good,” she whispered to herself. “Good.” He was learning.

  She walked into the woods, moving toward what was now a blank space within the trees. When she was close enough, she stopped and waited for his next move. Above her, Gaalrie flew silently. In an instant she was looking through her aoutem’s eyes and found Mikaal exactly where she knew he would be.

  Carefully, she built her power, this time making it stronger before releasing it.

  <><><>

  Think! he told himself after creating the block he hoped would stop her from finding him. Then he pushed his senses outward, looking for her. It took only a few seconds before he found her close to where he hid.

  Before he could move, light exploded around him. The power had not hit him, but its force knocked him to the ground. His anger burst outward and he screamed defiantly before running on an angle toward the nearby brook.

  As he ran, he concentrated on finding the power hidden deep within him. And he did. It erupted, spewing rivulets of heat through him. Strength flowed through his muscles as he ran. His breathing smoothed into a rhythmic pattern and his mind raced. He sensed she was running after him, speeding along on an angle to cut him off. His longsword kept hitting his knee and he drew it and held it tightly.

  When he reached the edge of the creek, he saw her emerge from the woods and stop to stare at him. Time altered, everything slowed. He saw her brace herself, her legs spread slightly, her feet planted. She was in a high crouch, her palms turned toward him. Silvery white light grew within their centers.

  He grasped the sword in two hands and faced her. When the light flashed and shot toward him, he did the only thing possible, he raised his sword. The first streak hit the sword blade and flared out. The second hit his shoulder and spun him around.

  His shoulder burned, but he retained his footing and faced her again. Her face was taut, her eyes narrowed. He knew she was getting ready for another attack and knew, too, this was no game. It had never been.

  She started forward, this Areenna he had never seen before. That she was a warrior was unquestioned, that she had enough power to destroy him was absolute. As he watched, he knew something within her had changed—it was something requiring him to change as well, because if he could not, the journey would end and he would have failed. And that was out of the question.

  He gripped the sword tighter, working out how to stop her and how to find his own weapon. The instant she drew on her power, he sensed it and raised the sword. She sent a single bolt at him, and he knew exactly where it would go. The white fiery ball sped at him faster than anything he had seen before. He turned sideways and swung the flat of his blade at the very instant the power reached him. The light exploded and disappeared.

  Areenna continued toward him. Both palms began to glow. Your sword will not help you this time, she said in his head.

  Mikaal knew truth when he heard it. Dropping his sword, he closed his eyes and sank to his knees. In an instinctive movement, he dug his hands into the earth as he had seen his mother do many times during his younger years. Help me, he asked the very earth his hands had penetrated.

  An answering tremble ran through his fingers and continued upward into his arms and then branched off. It went into his head and then downward, flowing through his body until his entire being trembled. The trembling stopped, but before he could take a breath, a wave of heat spread through him, burning hotter than any flame he had ever been near, consuming him with a fire that flowed through his veins. The fire poured into his heart and then stopped.

  He heard Charka cry loudly in the night, and above him, Gaalrie screeched. Areenna, not a dozen feet distant, froze.

  Pulling his hands from the earth he rose to his full height even as Areenna rekindled the power and let fly two massive bolts of white light. He raised his hands, the fingers of one pointed at her, and released every bit of the forces racing through him. He held his other hand palm outward. A sheet of flame erupted, not from his hand, but from the ground, encircling Areenna, exploding in every direction and rising to the branches in the trees above. The twin orbs of white power struck his upheld palm and vanished.

  The instant he saw what had happened, he called his power back and the flames died as quickly as they had come. Areenna stood unharmed within a circle of burning grass, her eyes wide.

  His body was icy cold now, and he began to shiver, but his fear of having hurt Areenna made him ignore the cold and race to where she stood. “Are you hurt?” he asked, turning her in a circle and tracing every inch of her body.

  She shook her head. Her breathing was forced. “I…I have never seen… I…”

  “Don’t speak, breathe.”

  She shook her head. “I am…fine. I never expected it to happen so fast. I was startled.”

  “I could have hurt you.”

  She reached out and touched his cheek. “But you did not. You’re very cold. We have to get you back.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You are not fine. You’re white, your shoulder and leg are injured. I used too much force. Do not argue with me.”

  He nodded. “My sword.”

  “Stay here,” she commanded and retrieved the weapon. Once it was in its scabbard, they started to camp. At one point he stumbled. Areenna caught him and helped him the rest of the way. At their camp, she brought him to the lean-to and laid him on his sleeping silks. She removed his shirt, leaned over and said, “Close your eyes and I will attempt to use Ilsraeth’s gift.” He tried to speak, but she put her finger to his lips. “Hush.”

  She lowered herself to his side, leaned forward and placed her hands over the burns. She closed her eyes and dug inside herself to release the gift. It took her several minutes and while she built the power of her new gift, Mikaal drifted off to sleep.

  Areenna worked slowly, learning the gift as she used it. She drew upon it, allowed it to flow within her and take her over completely. A few moments later, everything went dark except for the light around her hands and the glowing areas of his injuries. She slowly moved her hands over his shoulder, where the burn was the worst, and minutes later, his flesh was unmarked. Then she gently ran her hand along
his chest, slowly and carefully tracing every muscle in his abdomen. Moving lower, Areenna paused to remove his pants. Still she could not see him, only feel the flesh over the glowing places of his injuries.

  She traced down to his thighs, to the spot where she had hit, and worked the muscles for several minutes. Then she turned him over and healed his back, releasing the tight muscles and drawing out the pain.

  When she finished, she turned him onto his back, covered him with his sleeping silks and rose above him. As she did, her sight returned and she went outside and sat by the fire, knowing that when he awoke in the morning he would be as he was before the training.

  “Thank you Atir, for this blessing.”

  She stared into the fire, her mind churning with the evening’s events. She thought about the sword fight, replayed every bit of it in her mind, and recognized she had reached the point of not being afraid and of understanding how good she was with a sword. Much better, she decided, than she had imagined.

  His power of fire was something she had not seen before—she knew of no woman with such an ability. It was a fearsome thing, one to be reckoned with. But did they have enough time for him to learn its use? She could only hope.

  While her thoughts revolved around Mikaal and the power he had unleashed, her eyes closed and she fell asleep before the fire. Her body leaned sideways and, as if someone was helping her, descended slowly to the ground. Above her, Gaalrie rested on a branch, watching. Then Areenna’s aoutem floated to the ground, stepped next to her and sat alertly looking around. The treygone turned its head to Charka. A moment later the large kraal came over and lay down next to Areenna. His body heat was more than ample to keep her warm through the quickly cooling night.

  <><><>

  “We are being followed,” Enaid stated. Turning to Roth, she studied him. “But I sense no danger.”

  “It is probably nothing,” he replied without looking at her.

  “Nothing?” Closing her eyes, she cast about.

  “Enaid,” Roth called, breaking her concentration.

  She looked at him and knew. “Your men are following us—your Sixes. Why?”

  “They are there to protect us.”

  “Against what? They would not stand a chance against her.”

  “They will against those she may have sent.”

  “Against men, yes. Against her creatures…Solomon, it is doubtful.” She exhaled slowly. During the wars, he had trained groups of six men at a time in ways no men of Nevaeh had been trained before. They were the deadliest fighters in Nevaeh, and fiercely loyal to Roth.

  When he had first thought of training men for this he had explained to Enaid about the past, about the armies of his country. For over two hundred years, the warriors of his time had several specialized branches. One, he told her, was called the Seals, another was the Rangers, and yet another was Special Forces. They were highly strained soldiers and the deadliest fighting men and women of his time. Years before he was born, all the special branches were united into one, and were called Seals.

  He had explained how they were bonded together, and worked with absolute trust in each other. They went on only the most dangerous of missions, and to any part of the world. These men and women could go anywhere, survive in the most hostile areas of their world: they could fight with any weapon, or with only their hands.

  A year before he was sent into space, Roth and two others of the crew and three of the ‘colonists’ were sent for Seal training as part of the overall training for landing on a strange world. Roth excelled in this, and had taken the knowledge of this specialized training into space.

  And now, one of the Seal groups—who he had renamed ‘Sixes’, as seals were unheard of in Nevaeh—was shadowing them. It should have made Enaid feel more secure, but it only added more concern to her already heavy burdens. She knew she’d had to send her son with Areenna, but the worry for him and the guilt she carried at putting him into so much danger was hard to bear.

  “If what I fear comes to be, their lives will be in danger.”

  “They were not ordered to do this. They volunteered,” Roth explained.

  Enaid drew her kraal to a stop, lifted in her stirrups and turned to face him. “There is not a man among your Sixes who would not volunteer his life for yours as you well know.”

  “Or for you,” he said in a low voice.

  “You should have talked to me about this first. If what I have foreseen comes about, there will be no hiding Mikaal’s power. Would you have your men see this?”

  “It is a chance I take. I will not lose my son.”

  She reached across and took his hand. “Then keep faith he will be strong enough to gain what is needed on the Island, and to leave it and live.”

  “And Areenna?” he asked. “Does the same hold true for her?”

  She looked deeply into his eyes before saying, “Even more so. For Areenna’s life is dependent on Mikaal. Without him she has no chance…and Solomon, without her, neither shall you.”

  CHAPTER 25

  THE MORNING SKY was cluttered with low hanging clouds of white gray puffs so thickly massed only a little daylight filtered through. Mikaal awoke slowly and refreshed. There was no pain or stiffness from last night’s battles.

  Throwing off the sleeping silks he started to rise, but stopped when he found he was naked. “How?”

  He looked to Areenna’s sleeping silks, but they had not been used. He searched for his clothing, dressed quickly and left the shelter. What greeted him was perhaps the strangest sight of their journey.

  Areenna was sound asleep before the cold ashes of the fire. Charka lay on the ground against her back, Gaalrie was snuggled into her abdomen and chest, her head resting on Areenna’s side. Both animals lifted their heads at his approach, but did not move.

  He went to Areenna and crouched by her head. Stroking her hair, he called her name softly. Areenna opened her eyes and Gaalrie and Charka moved. The giant bird lifted onto her legs while Charka clumsily gained his feet.

  “Wha…” Areenna started when the animals stood, then she saw Mikaal’s smiling face floating before her.

  “You slept well I presume?”

  Memory flooded her as last night’s events raced across her mind’s eye. “How are you? Is there still pain?”

  Mikaal shook his head sharply. “I feel like I’ve slept for a week. There is no soreness, no pain. I feel…strong.”

  “Good, then the healing worked.” Areenna glanced around, her features puzzled. “I don’t remember falling sleep. I was sitting here by the fire,” she said, sitting up, “and then you were above me.” She wrinkled her nose. “I smell like kraal.”

  “That’s what happens when you sleep with one,” he joked.

  “I need to bathe.”

  “Ah, shall I prepare hot water for you, Princess?”

  “Very funny. What you can do is find some real food. I think we’re going to need it today. We need to save the dry food for the Landing. I don’t think there will be much there or on the Island.”

  “Not around here. We haven’t seen so much as a skerl, and I wouldn’t want to eat one of those. We’re too close to the wasteland. We’ll need Gaalrie. Perhaps she can find a plump crave or, with some luck, a chillen.”

  Turning to where Gaalrie still watched them, Areenna extended her arm and the treygone hopped onto it. She lifted the heavy bird so their eyes were level and sent an easy push. Gaalrie flew upward with Areenna’s arm thrust, circled above them and then flew west.

  Areenna started toward the lean-to and her bags. “Perhaps a fire is in order,” she threw back at Mikaal.

  “Of course, My Lady.” A wide smile grew on his face as he watched her gather her clean clothing. A minute later she was headed to the creek and he turned toward the woods to gather more fallen branches.

  Areenna returned fifteen minutes later, just as the fire licked skyward. “My turn,” Mikaal said. He pulled a fresh shirt and pants from his bag and headed to the creek.


  When he disappeared over the ridge, Areenna gathered their things and began to pack. She had slept deeply and had wakened renewed. But as she thought about the day ahead, darkness settled over her. Today would be the last before reaching the Island; she was worried about the night ahead. She had no desire to gain the Island when it was dark. They would have to camp at the Landing, which she sensed would be dangerous, even though Enaid had assured them the Landing was a safe place.

  And the wraiths? They would be close by. Once they crossed the border of Aldimor and entered the wasteland, Atir’s protection would be gone and they would be visible to any who could sense or see them.

  She knew there was no choice. The miles of wasteland had to be crossed and there was no way around it. She shrugged and went back to packing.

  They entered the wastelands an hour after eating. The sky remained overcast and filled with low hanging gray and white clouds, which seemed to hover but inches above their heads. It wasn’t the clouds but the land that gave this illusion. The flat brown wasteland had little vegetation and stretched as far as the eye could see, disappearing into a mist that blended into the clouds hunkering along the horizon.

  Even the air had changed. On the western side of the Aldimor border it had been comfortable, but here every breeze held a damp chill even though the temperature remained steady. Areenna wrapped her traveling cloak tighter. Mikaal had already done so moments before.

  “Tell me how you accessed your power, your weapon. Truthfully I have never seen the like before.”

  He shook his head. “I’m not sure. I asked for help.”

  She nodded. She had gone through the same experience as had all women of power. Her brows knit together as she worked on a way for him to discover what he had done. “When my mother trained me to find my weapon, it was much like I did with you,” she began slowly and thoughtfully. “We were in the deep forests ringing the blue desert. She was chasing me and I was running. Her power was very strong. Her weapon was her ability to move things. She could make a rock the size of your head fly a hundred yards so fast you could barely track it, and she always hit whatever she aimed at. There seemed no limit to what she could move.”