“Will they punish you for telling me?”
Trey smiled.
“If I wasn’t who I am, they might.”
Yet another cryptic response from Trey. Kimberly was used to them by now. She slid the ring on her finger.
The ring caught the light. For just a moment, the flame came to life, burning bright. Astonished, she held her hand up to see it better, but the ring turned to smoke and puffed away. She looked to Trey for guidance.
“No use keeping something a secret if you wear its symbol around,” he explained.
“Oh.” It was too bad; the ring had looked cool on her hand.
“This is a big thing to trust you with. Do not disappoint me.” Trey stood and walked away, pausing long enough to scratch Ip’s head. “You really do smell better now.”
Ip barked at Trey. Kimberly watched as he walked back into town. Looking down at the scroll in her hand, she slowly unrolled it and began reading.
As the sun set, its dying rays glistened off of the tears on her cheeks.
Halston
The night had been a long one. Halston rubbed at his puffy eyes, wincing at how tender the skin had become. At his side sat Ip, his head cocked to one side. He reached down to scratch at the fox’s ears, finding that soft spot right between them. He sat behind a giant oak desk that was piled high with books and scrolls of all sorts. Scribbled on parchment around him were dozens of different sigils and enchantments. The solution was evading him.
The door to his study opened. A young man in robes with a shaved head walked in.
“Message from the Society.” He held up a sealed letter.
Halston leapt to his feet, scattering papers everywhere. Running over, he grabbed it from the man and nearly ripped it in two as he opened it. His eyes flicked swiftly over the missive.
Halston could feel the heat rising in his face as he read the words before him.
“Damn it!” He crumpled the message in a ball and threw it in the air. It burst into a ball of fire, turning to ash.
Grabbing the messenger by his robes, he stared deep into his face.
“There has to be a cure, there has to!” He shook the man. Ip barked at him in admonishment. Realizing his position, he let go of the man.
“Please, I am sorry.”
The messenger placed a comforting hand on the mage’s shoulder. “Were I in your position, I would do no different.”
It wasn’t the sympathy that struck Halston, but the sincerity in the man’s voice.
“You’re a good lad.” He sent him out the door and scratched at his beard. Ip barked at him twice and he smiled. “You’re right, we should go see her.”
He turned and walked toward the window. Staring down at a building far from his tower, he put his hands in the air and drew his fingertips together, like he was connecting two points. In a second, he was in the other building. He saw his wife, his beautiful Elurra, sitting on her chair, holding their son.
“My beauty.” He knelt before her and kissed her hand. She sighed and ran her fingers lovingly across his brow.
“Any luck?” Her voice trembled with hope.
“Not yet. I have a lead, but… it is dangerous.”
“If there is anything I can do, please… tell me.” She grabbed his hand, pulling him up to meet her lips with his own. “If anybody can do this, you can.”
“You honor me.” He kissed her again and looked down at their son. Inky black pools for pupils. Their son was only two weeks old. He was already the size of a six-month-old. Magical wards in the building resonated deeply in warning every time she carried the child past. The magic that had taken hold like an illness was almost tangible now.
Halston had no idea where it could have come from. His best guess was that something had latched onto the magic of Elurra’s sword, Willow, lying in wait for a better host. Halston was much too powerful for the parasite to claim, but his son was not. His child would be a powerful mage someday, but not for many years. This magic that had taken hold truly baffled Halston. Magic wasn’t necessarily good or evil, it simply was. This magic, however, stank of corruption. The changes in his son were obviously related.
Looking into Elurra’s beautiful, brown eyes, he smiled at her. Over her shoulder, Willow hung at a place of honor over the hearth. He walked over and stroked the blade once, knowing it to be a living object. It vibrated gently under his touch.
* * *
Two days passed, and still no answers. Halston was reviewing some interesting research he had just received from the Society. He was halfway down one of the pages when a piercing shriek split the air. All of the wards were sounding at once. His eyes wide, he ran to his tower window and stared down at his home. Something was wrong.
Ip ran beneath his feet as he made two points with his hand and slammed them together. Instantly, they were in his bedroom. The chair Elurra always sat in wasn’t occupied and Willow was missing. His son’s cradle was empty.
“Elurra!” He ran out into the hallway and froze. Beneath a pool of blood lay one of the Society’s members. The Society had provided Halston the tower and the home when he had asked for their help. Day and night, his needs were catered to by its members. One of those members now lay dead at his feet.
Kneeling, he closed the man’s eyes with his fingers. Ip whimpered behind him. Turning to look at the fox, he stood up. With a simple hand gesture, knots on his robe undid themselves and the fabric refolded around his legs. Pants would be far better to fight and move in.
Running down the stairs and through the hallway, he found more bodies. Their wounds were erratic, which puzzled Halston. Who would dare to come all the way out here to attack his home? Not goblins, they were just as likely to kill each other, which would leave evidence. Davish? No, they hated water. It didn’t make sense for the dwarves or the elves to do it either, unless somebody had caught wind of his child’s condition…
Outside, someone screamed. Breaking into a sprint, he ran out into the front courtyard and stared at the carnage. Men and women lay all over the place, up in trees and torn apart. The damage to the yard was monstrous, similar to a basilisk attack. Yet, there were no stone bodies.
“Ip, watch me.” He clenched his hands together and sent his spirit skyward, leaving his body behind. Several hundred feet in the air, he looked around for signs of an orc raid, or even some gremlings. Nothing was seen. Almost a mile away, he saw the faint magical aura of Willow moving away from him at a steady speed.
Pulling his soul back into his body, he beckoned Ip to jump into his arms. He stomped his feet twice and they transformed into the flaming hooves of a Lava Jumper. He leapt forward, sailing over the courtyard’s wall and landing outside his estate. The guards outside were dead as well, their swords barely drawn. He threw himself forward again, leaping through the air faster than a horse could run. Fear powered the beating of his heart.
Ip barked as they approached Willow’s fading aura. It was as if something was overwhelming it. Halston hoped Elurra hadn’t been swallowed whole again. Especially if she was holding their son, Nathias. The time she had been swallowed by an antelix, he had treated her burns for days.
His pace quickened as he entered the woods. He cursed himself for never learning how to grow a pair of wings, or fly, for that matter. It wasn’t an easy trick for a emage whose art was strongest in the ground beneath.
Willow’s aura stopped moving up ahead. It pulsed gently, guiding Halston in over the trees. He leapt high into the air and spiraled down into a river clearing. Looking up, he saw what looked to be a giant spider hiding in the shadows, its long, thin legs over twenty feet long.
Something flashed toward him from the darkness. As it struck, he clenched his teeth, turning his skin to stone. The projectile bounced away and he relaxed his jaw. Becoming flesh and blood again, he saw that the thing had cut him.
Fire filled his hands. He threw it up high in the air, illuminating the clearing. Above him hovered an angry woman, one hand on a child, the other o
n her sword. Long, wooden tentacles had sprouted like legs from her waist, legs that carried her away from her home.
“Elurra! What have you done?” he cried, disbelief in his voice.
“You’re going to take my baby away!” she screamed. She sent Willow out again, striking the ground under his feet as he jumped. She was actually attacking him!
“I would never take him from you; you know that.” He ducked underneath a giant leg. His eyes grew wide when he saw they were tipped with black metal. Willow could sprout vines and flowers, but metal wasn’t a trick The Living Blade could accomplish.
“Elurra, please, I beg of you!” He wasn’t sure how it had happened, but his wife was now under the dark magic’s thrall. He summoned more fire and threw it in the sky. It came down in a wide circle, burning high. He would be damned if he let her get away.
“Leave me alone!” Her voice was raw, making Halston picture shattered glass. He covered his ears and looked at Ip. He sent the message telepathically and Ip ran away into the woods, unharmed by the wall of fire.
“Elurra, please, come down here and listen to my voice. The magic made you kill all of those people. Think of Willow! Willow was never meant to be an instrument of evil!” Elurra swung the sword at Halston, barely missing. She came on in a frenzy, her movements speeding up. He began dodging to the side, staying just one step ahead of her. He dropped small stones everywhere he could, covering the ground with unseen pebbles.
“I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you!” Her voice was frantic now. He could see her eyes had gone white. She was no longer in control.
It was time to turn the tables. Halston clapped his hands together. Each pebble he had dropped sprouted into a tree of stone. He created a petrified forest around his wife, guiding the growth of the branches to pin her in.
“Now, Ip!” Ip appeared, the size of a small bear and his fur ablaze in magic. He jumped from branch to branch, unseen by Elurra. Dropping from above, he snatched Nathias from her grasp, holding the child’s blanket in his teeth. Howling in rage, Elurra dissipated the spidery legs, dropping to the ground.
“Give him back!” Chasing Ip in her fury, she forgot Halston was still in the fight He forked his fingers and pushed them together. The trees bent and moved, trapping Elurra in a prison. Shrieking, she coiled vines around her arms and fired Willow forward, trying to pierce her husband from a distance. A giant stone fist rose from the ground in front of Halston and slammed shut over Willow.
Frozen, her arm extended, Elurra broke into tears. She let go of Willow and the wooden tendrils shrank away, disappearing into the giant fist. She collapsed, burying her face in her hands.
“Elurra?” he whispered. Walking forward, he pulled Willow free of the fist. It pulsed in his hands. Ip was waiting for him, Nathias’s bundle clamped in his teeth. He looked down at his son and flinched. A look of fury was embedded in his child’s face.
Had Nathias really caused all this?
“Please, you have to do something,” Elurra spoke from her prison. “I can feel the darkness, compelling me.”
Halston dropped his head in thought. He shook his head. “There is a spell I found. It could kill him, though.”
“No, please.” She reached through the bars. “There has to be another way.”
He shook his head. “It’s an ancient ritual. It would strip him of his magic, but there isn’t time to practice or test it first. Stripping a being of its magic can be dangerous.”
“Try it on me.”
He looked at Elurra in surprise.
“Please, Halston. For Nathias. Try it on me.”
“I need more time!”
“We don’t have more time!” Her voice was desperate. “Please, just do it. If it works, and I survive, we can use it on him.”
He really had no choice. He moved his son from the clearing and began the preparations. He hoped this would work.
* * *
Halston sat there in the mud. It was pouring rain now, rain that he had created quite on accident. Uncontrollable tears ran down his face. Around him lay a prison of totems and lines of magic. He sat in the middle now, cradling his wife’s body against his chest.
Ip cried too, somewhere in the darkness. Loud, mournful howls at the night sky.
He had failed. He could even feel Willow’s anguish, the sword pulsating with grief at his hip. He had been there for so long now, hours maybe, he wasn’t sure.
That’s where the Society found him, sitting in the magic circle that had killed his wife. Nobody said a word; they helped him stand and led him away.
The next day, returning to his study, he was unable to focus. Flipping randomly through all of his notes, a picture caught his eye, a picture of a blue sphere covered in clouds…
Reading the caption beneath, he immediately put out the call for more information on a legendary land with no magic.
A land called Earth.
* * *
Trey watched Kimberly’s return from the window of their room. He could see the sadness in her steps, a sadness he wished he could help her carry.
Kimberly reminded him of his own daughter, who had died so long ago. Even though the magic accelerated her aging, he still pictured the little girl he met on the Plains of Garezabeth. It was hard watching the innocence he had seen in her eyes that day disappear. Such was life on Auviarra.
Behind him, the others were crowded around a map of the Golden Valley. They had placed cross marks over towns that had been wiped out. After a long discussion, they all agreed that Kimberly’s family was involved.
The door to the room opened and Kimberly walked in, carrying Ip in her arms. If Trey had to guess, she looked like she was in her early twenties now. Kimberly dropped Ip on the bed and sat down, her eyes red.
Helena walked to her and sat down, placing her arm across her shoulders. Kimberly leaned against her, sisters in arms. Ronnee, having returned from some chores in town, watched them with sad eyes.
Returning his attention to the map, Trey stared at a place called the Golden City. The monarchy of the Valley lived there, up against the northern mountain range. On the other side of the city was the Aluvean Ocean, a sea that carried trade south from the Wintern Passage. Around the Golden City was a large circle, drawn there as a result of a discussion between the others. Looking at the cities that had fallen, it was obvious that whoever was causing such mischief was ultimately headed there.
Trey hoped to get there first. With a few words to the others, they all bedded down for the night. First thing in the morning, Trey would get some horses. He wasn’t sure what they would find at the Golden City, but he knew a fight was coming their way.
He just hoped Kimberly would be ready for it.
* * *
In the morning, Serra and Helena revealed that they had gone out shopping and purchased a real outfit for Kimberly. Kimberly changed, excited to be out of what was left of her Earth clothes. Walking out of the inn, she now wore a simple blouse, covered by a leather vest, and a pair of leather breeches with snaps up the calves for when it got hot.
Trey arrived at the inn with Ronnee, horses in tow. Within minutes they had their gear loaded and were on the road. Riding as if their lives depended on it, it took them ten days to reach the main road that would take them directly to the Golden City. Every time they passed through the rubble of a destroyed town, Kimberly felt responsible somehow. There was no doubt in her mind that her father was behind this, and she knew in her heart she would do whatever it took to end what she felt she had started.
In the valley between two mountains, her first sight of the Golden City took her breath away. It was huge, even from a distance. She could see giant towers floating in the sky, moving in lazy circles around a central palace. The whole city was guarded by a large wall that glowed with magic. Even at a distance, she could see a faint golden glow beneath the towers as they hovered. Helena told her the whole city would glow like a golden firefly at night.
Riding through the valley
, Kimberly looked at the people she traveled with. Ronnee was the goofy older brother she never had. Helena and Serra were like sisters to her. She smiled at the thought. Helena was the pretty sister who taught you how to do makeup. Serra, the tomboy who would beat up the first guy who broke your heart.
And Trey…
Kimberly thought of Serra’s words outside of Bensin, words of love and loyalty. Trey treated everybody with respect and equality, but Kimberly sensed that their connection ran deeper than that. More than once she had drifted to sleep, under the stars of Auviarra, imagining what it would have been like if Trey had been her father.
Trey turned briefly in his saddle to look back at her. “How do your legs feel?”
“Fine.” They were sore from riding, but she wouldn’t admit it. Not to him.
“That’s good. It means you’re getting better.” He patted his horse’s neck. “When we get a chance, I’ll show you how to fight from one.”
“Looking forward to it,” she said. Trey nodded and faced forward again. She dropped her voice to a whisper. “…Dad.” She looked at the others to see if anybody heard. Seeing that nobody had noticed, she realized she wouldn’t have cared if they had.
Ip, content to ride in her saddle bag, barked in agreement.
Nearing the end of the valley, they approached a giant stone arch, over forty feet high. They slowed their horses, approaching cautiously. The valley had been devoid of life, and the arch was no different. The arch was a natural gateway to the Golden City. Passing beneath it, Kimberly looked at her new family and felt chills go up her spine. One way or another, she had a feeling that this was the beginning of the end.
Fall of the Golden City
Only a few minutes from the stone arch was the official gate into the Golden City. In awe, Kimberly stared. Her horse’s hooves clicked on the cobblestone path that disappeared into the city.
“Something is wrong,” Trey declared. “There should be hundreds of people milling about, smells, sounds, anything.”