Curse Of The Dark Wind (Book 6) (15 page)

“The energy from the scars are trying to help him?”

“Not exactly. More that the residual energy doesn’t want to share its space with a violent newcomer,” the caster answers. She scratches her head for a few seconds and shrugs when she cannot think of a better explanation. “I don’t really know, but I hope the priests of Fyric can cure or even stabilize him. I’ll even take an explanation of what’s going on at this point because I’m in over my head.”

“Me too,” Sari whispers, pulling her knees to her chest. She squints when she sees a form walking through the blue moonlight. “Where is he going?”

Nyx follows her gaze to see Zander walking away from the hills, the monster hunter searching among the dying beasts. A small shovel can be seen over his shoulder, Tavon’s light glinting off the keen edge. They watch him with deep curiosity, expecting something sinister to reveal itself. Instead, he digs into the cold ground and wrestles something out of the hole. He topples backwards and holds up whatever he has found, excitedly turning it in his hands. Getting to his feet, Zander waves at the women and jogs back to the hills.

“He was rifling through a book of herbs, so I guess he found something,” Nyx says, her eyelids getting heavy. She stifles a yawn and shakes her head, cringing at the stiffness in her neck. “It’s been months since we got to talk without the others around. Though, I don’t think now is the best time. We should get some alone time once Luke recovers and we’re not in the middle of a cursed region. Just to discuss some things.”

“Are you going to sleep with Delvin?” Sari bluntly asks. She leans away from Nyx’s half-hearted smack and grins at the blushing woman. “It’s an honest question and it takes my mind off Luke dying.”

“I have no answer for that because I’m not interested.”

“You’re such a liar!” the gypsy declares, taking the half-elf by the hand. “I see you blush when he compliments you and it’s not because you’re about to cast a spell at him. Although I think your playful spells are a type of flirting. I’ve never seen you be so aggressive in temperament and passive in power before.”

“He catches me off guard.”

“You think he’s cute.”

“He’s pretty average.”

“You think he’s sweet.”

“He has to think before he speaks.”

“You think he’s brave.”

“He did save me from Stephen.”

Sari tackles Nyx and pins her on the damp ground, causing snow to fall into her friend’s shirt. A burst of force knocks the gypsy away, but she gracefully flips in midair and lands on her booted feet. Wiping some dirt and dead grass from her skirts, Sari approaches her friend and offers to help her up.

“He’s very taken with you, Nyxie,” the blue-haired girl states, a serious expression on her face. “I know a lot of guys have been interested, but you have to admit that Delvin is the first to be so honest and sweet. The guy isn’t even sure why he’s falling for you, so there’s a pureness to his emotions.”

The caster sighs in defeat before asking, “So what do you suggest, little sister?”

“You’re not aggressive or experienced or sultry, so you have to play to your natural strengths,” Sari replies as she circles her friend. Whispering a spell, the gypsy waves her hands and turns the half-elf’s pants into a pair of tight leather shorts. “There we go. Legs and butt are definitely your strengths. They’ll take attention away from your rabid temper and verbal stumbling.”

Nyx violently shivers and rubs at her freezing legs, her breath more visible in the air than before. She covers her body in fire to drive the growing cold away and struggles to see through the illusion. Her breathing is ragged and she feels like she is about to pass out from fright. A sigh of relief escapes her lips when Sari removes her spell and the warm pants reappear amid the flames.

“What just happened, Nyxie?” Sari asks, hurrying to her friend and hugging her. “My illusions never caused you to panic like that.”

“I’m tired and my senses are strained. Even though I knew what you were doing, my mind freaked out. I don’t even have the energy to get mad and retaliate. I’ll get back at you tomorrow.”

“Better to take it as a compliment and take my advice about working to your strengths.”

Nyx holds Sari at arm’s length and stares at her, a painfully forced smile on her face. “You imply that I want to win Delvin, but you’re wrong. I’ll admit that he’s a nice guy and a brave warrior. Any woman would be lucky to have his attention. Definitely a born leader and he has a curiosity that makes him interesting to talk to because he’ll listen.”

“I’m not hearing a but,” the gypsy says with a friendly poke to her friend’s ribs. She spins Nyx into a gentle hug, her immovability locking them in place. “How about indulging me for a second? I want you to say that you’re in love with Delvin. Even if you’re not, I want you to give the declaration a try. It might feel more natural than you think.”

“If I say it, will you stay out of my love life unless I come to you for advice?” the caster asks, a flicker of magic in her eyes. The emphatic nod of her friend prompts the half-elf to take a deep breath, steeling herself for the awkward words. “I love you, Delvin Cunningham.”

“Oh . . . I love you too, Nyx,” the warrior says as he stands behind her.

“How long have you been there, Delvin?”

“No more than half a minute.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

The warrior scratches his head and is silently thankful that the half-elf is keeping her back to him. “It looked like you were in the middle of something and I figured Sari had seen me. I wanted to mention that Luke is stable, so we’re going to leave at first light to reach Fyric by midafternoon. Zander knows a shortcut. Are you going to be okay, Nyx?”

Her face bright red, the caster squeezes Sari until the gypsy squeals and slips out of the crushing grip. Turning around, the embarrassed woman meets Delvin’s confused gaze. Unable to say more than a wordless stutter, Nyx transforms into a ball of crimson energy and zips down the hill toward the camp.

“You made my life more difficult,” the swordsman groans, stooping to pick Fizzle up.

Sari smirks and pats him on the cheek as she walks by. “On the contrary, I got you a lot closer than you were before. The fact that she ran away instead of blasting you is a sign that part of her likes you.”

“Or that she’s tired and she’ll blast me tomorrow. Do you really know what you’re doing?”

“Trust in my process, my friend.”

“I get the sense that you’re in this more to tease Nyx than to help me.”

“Uh . . . trust the process, I have your back, and I think I hear Timoran calling for my help. Bye!” The gypsy rambles before sprinting down the hill.

6

Surrounded by groves of birch trees, the halfling city of Fyric peacefully sits upon the great northern road of Ralian. Bare apple orchards fringe the dirt roads and encircle the frozen pools of water scattered throughout the town. Tamed and shared by the populace, a herd of wooly tapirs wait for any of the halfling citizens to use them for mounts. Their elongated snouts flex in the winter air as they huddle in the snow, their black and white bodies insulated by a layer of dense fat. Every building is a spired tower composed of hardened wood, expertly carved gargoyles peering down from the highest eaves. The largest structure sits in the middle of town, a spiny oval with a star cut out of the middle slowly rotating on the top. When the sun emerges from the clouds, a shaft of light passes through the hole and creates a star that drifts across the town. The shimmer of crystals can be seen in patches of exposed earth, revealing the icy gems that are responsible for the nutritious grass that sprouts in the spring.

“This is terrible,” Sari whispers as they dismount. The travelers leave the horses on the edge of town where a friendly group of halflings takes the reins. “This place looks even worse than the hills.”

“Sadly, I’m not surprised,” Nyx admits, shivering at the sight before them.

With Delvin taking the lead, the adventurers carefully walk through Fyric. Sick beasts cover the ground and some are even being tended to on the frozen ponds. Everything from tiny songbirds to vicious harpies can be found within the town, which has been transformed into an enormous hospital. Fizzle whimpers when he sees a pair of drites being cradled by halfling children, the wheezing dragons suckling at bottles of herb-infused milk. The travelers watch the citizens rush in every direction to carry water and medicine to the hardworking healers. All of the white-robed priests toils within their designated work zone, shouting and waving when they run low on supplies. Fleet-footed couriers sprint from the central tower to the healers and back again, struggling to keep everyone fully stocked.

“I’m impressed. They’ve set up a smooth running operation here,” Delvin mentions, admiring the sense of order in Fyric. He stops to let a halfling run by with a mewling griffin cublet, the beast nearly bald from excessive molting. “Any ideas on where we should go?”

“The priests of Neberith the Medicine Goddess should be able to help,” Zander states, pointing at the central tower. “If nothing else, they should be able to tell us more about this living curse. How’s the forest tracker doing?”

“I’m feeling feverish again,” Luke groans as he staggers behind the monster hunter. “I think the herbs are about to wear off.”

“We’ll get you some help at the temple,” Sari says while draping her boyfriend’s arm over her shoulders. Fizzle wraps his tail around the half-elf’s other arm and works hard to keep him standing. “Everyone looks so busy. I’m not sure we’re going to get much attention standing around here.”

“Don’t cause a scene,” Nyx hisses to the gypsy.

“That goes for you too, Nyxie.”

Delvin sighs and turns to face the smirking women, their playful banter having been going on since breakfast. “It’s been a long journey and there’s an emergency here. I want to find some information, get Luke some help, and lend a hand. I’m already thinking that some of us should stay in Fyric to assist the priests and the rest will set out to destroy the living curse. So please behave until we get everything settled. If not for me then for Luke who is starting to drool black foam again.”

Nyx forcefully slaps the forest tracker on the back, delivering a burst of aura that courses through his body. The bubbles at the corners of his mouth turn white and his breathing returns to a constant wheeze instead of the gurgling sputter he has had for the last ten minutes. She stares helplessly at the pained expression on Luke’s face and wonders how much longer she can keep the living curse at bay with her magic. Nyx can already see that her aura has less of an effect on her best friend than the last time she infused his body.

“He needs help now,” the caster states, wiping a few tears from her eyes.

“I believe I see a way to get assistance,” Timoran declares, cracking his knuckles and walking ahead of his friends.

They watch as he approaches a thrashing wyvern, the scaly beast’s barbed tail keeping the healers at a distance. With a mournful shriek, the winged reptile doubles over and hacks up a glob of black mucus. The halflings attempt to get near the creature to deliver some medicine, but retreat when the wyvern gnashes its twisted teeth. Sniffing the cold air, the confused beast whirls around to hiss at the barbarian. It freezes with its mouth slightly open, its glistening eyes staring into the stern face of Timoran. The healers are surprised when the animal leans forward and allows the towering man to stroke its dry snout, brown scales flaking off with every touch. With the wyvern calm, the halflings have no trouble injecting the healing salves into its mouth and nostrils.

“She’s scared and needs to know everything will be okay,” Luke says, smiling at the sight of the barbarian scratching the wyvern’s chin. The half-elf’s knees buckle and he nearly drags Sari to the ground, the gypsy’s immovability turning on to keep them standing. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry, lover. Everything is going to be okay,” she whispers before kissing his cheek. To hide her tears from Luke, Sari turns to Delvin. “Do you think they can really help him?”

“I’m sure they can.”

“Except everything they’re doing is to make the beasts comfortable,” Zander points out as he looks around. He frowns at the distant sight of a wheelbarrow full of dead birds being pushed behind a building. “The only way to stop this is to clear the curse from the area. If the forest tracker is strong then he’ll be able to last for a while. The only problem is that we have no idea how quickly this thing progresses.”

With an enraged scowl, Sari leans over to Nyx and hisses, “Say the word and I’ll make sure nobody finds his body.”

“Get in line,” the caster snarls, ignoring the hurt expression on her friend’s face.

“Don’t be negative, Zander,” Delvin snaps while narrowing his gaze at his angry friends. He pats the hilt of his longsword and scratches the side of his head, subtly implying what he wants to do to the monster hunter. “Luke is one of the strongest people I’ve ever met. If he falters then we’ll find a way to share our strength with him. So I recommend having some faith.”

“Guess I’ll go see if I can find any more healing roots then,” the blonde man says, walking away and waving to the others. “I’ll say my debt to Nyx is repaid if I help save her little brother. Though I’m getting the feeling there’s more to them than that.”

“What did he mean by that?” Delvin asks, confused by the fire rippling around Nyx’s arms.

“My friends, we have a meeting with the mayor,” Timoran announces as he returns to the group. Noticing the tension, he claps his hands and takes Luke from Sari, the half-elf barely aware of what is going on. “I do not know what happened in the short time I was gone, but it is not important. Follow me.”

The adventurers silently make their way along the twisting paths that take them to the central tower. Several tables with raised canopies have been set up in front of the building, the area reserved for baby animals that have been infected. A low hum can be heard from the heating stones embedded in the underside of the tabletops that keep the patients comfortable. Children are helping the healers, tears running down their chubby faces as they tend to the sick animals. All of the young halflings stare at Timoran as he leads his friends to the central tower, the towering barbarian nodding to them. Their attention immediately shifts to Fizzle, who whimpers and cries at the sight of the dying animals.