Curse Of The Dark Wind (Book 6) (22 page)

“That would be nice. My friend who’s a healer had to stop traveling with us when he lost his legs,” the half-elf says. Waving her hand over her face, the caster’s eyes turn green and allow her to read Pam’s sloppy handwriting. “Delvin really is amazing at times. It’s like he was born to absorb skills and knowledge. Though he has his limits. He popped a blood vessel in his eye trying to cast magic when we were in Gaia. It was funny and a little gross.”

“He sounds like a fun person to travel with.”

“Delvin is definitely a source of amusement.”

“No wonder you’re in love with him.”

Nyx drops the pile of forms on the floor and scrambles to clean it up, her cheeks bright red and warm. “Please don’t join in on that joke. My friends tease me about it all the time and Delvin won’t take the hint. He’s sweet and kind, but he’s getting pushy.”

“My apologies, young lady.”

The two women go back to their work, silently focusing on the forms that are neatly piling up in front of Nyx. When the desk is completely covered by ordered stacks, Pam whistles for a group of well-dressed clerks to hurry over. They carefully take the forms and yell for space as they make their way through the crowd. With no more paperwork, Nyx glances around the circular room for something else to do. The more time that passes, the more she wishes she had snuck out of town to follow the others.

“You should go back out there,” Pam politely mentions. The redheaded halfling walks across the table to put a hand on the caster’s shoulder. “I know you feel useless since your magic can’t help any more. You still have working hands, eyes, and ears, so there’s no reason for you to be wallowing in self-pity. If you’re so concerned with your performance then work alongside Delvin instead of avoiding him.”

“I’m not avoiding him. I thought splitting up to work in different areas would be smarter. Besides, Delvin is acting overprotective and keeps coddling me. I don’t want to hit him in front of the patients.”

“Interesting excuse,” the mayor states, turning to yell for people to clear a path. Everyone moves out of the way of three priests, each one carrying three crates of jostling potions to the outdoor healers. “It’s about time some more potions went out there. Come to think of it, I might have a job for you. Do you think you can infuse potions with your magic?”

“It’s possible, but my power works differently than holy magic,” the half-elf answers, biting her lower lip as a thought comes to her mind. “I can go to the roof and see if I can figure something out. At least I’ll be out of everyone’s way up there.”

Pam rolls up her sleeves and hops off the desk, her piercing eyes making a final scan of the room. “John is on the roof with a flock of vultures that are refusing to leave. I’m going to help out with the patients, so you’re on your own. I’ll trust you to find a way to help, but I still think you should work alongside your friend. For no other reason than you two will get to spend time together outside of a battle. I know how you adventurers live, so enjoy the less violent times when you find them.”

Nyx walks toward the bustling doorway of the tower, stumbling into the busy halflings and constantly apologizing. A tremor runs through her chest and she looks around when a woman whispers her name. Nobody is waving at her or trying to catch up, so she continues heading out the door. The cold air is like a hand squeezing her throat, the sensation easing when she sends a surge of heat through her body. Heading to where she last saw Delvin, Nyx feels another tremor as a man’s voice calls her name. She curses under her breath when she realizes her parents are trying to contact her through her amethyst necklace. The half-elf wanders behind the tower and finds a quiet spot to respond, a few wooly tapirs the only other creatures in view.

“I’m here, mom and dad. Are you two getting along? I know I said I’d contact you when I reached Fyric. Luke got infected by a living curse and things got out of hand. Yes, Stephen is around here and Delvin is watching over me. I’d love to see you two do that to the bastard. Can I say that it’s great that you two are getting along? I’m not trying to say you should get married and have another kid. I don’t want to think about that. Well I’m not going to dignify that with an answer, mom. Sari and Luke are still together. He’s still with Kira Grasdon too. I promise not to tell him that you and dad are taking bets on the outcome. Confessed to Delvin? Who told you I . . . how are you talking to Sari behind my back? People can use my necklace to talk to you when I’m asleep? I don’t have time for this. I’ll confess to Delvin when I’m good and ready.”

“Confess what to me?” Delvin asks as he stands in front of Nyx.

The caster blushes and drops the necklace, breaking contact with her parents. “I was going to admit that . . . I’m not much help around here. I think I should work with you instead of getting into trouble with the priests. Consider me your assistant.”

“Okay, you’re my lovely assistant,” the warrior replies, suspiciously eyeing the grinning half-elf. “I’m going to feed the baby Verenstone Dragon.”

“Great.”

“I thought you were going to say you loved me again.”

“Maybe someday,” Nyx laughs, immediately covering her mouth. She is thankful that Delvin merely smiles, puts an arm around her shoulder, and silently leads her away.

*****

Inhuman screams erupt with every blast of foul wind that comes from the cave’s gaping entrance. The matted grass has turned black from constant exposure to the Dark Wind, each blade seeping black ooze. A garden of crystals is on each side of the opening and more of the murky gems are sticking out of the ceiling. The bald hill behind the cave shudders with every burst of air, giving the appearance of the land coughing. Many of the surrounding trees have dead birds around their bases, the animals killed instantly by the potent living curse. Patches of Dark Wind are dangling from the bare branches, reminding the adventurers of torn curtains getting shaken in a steady breeze.

“Is Luke still unconscious?” Timoran asks as he examines the entrance from a distance. He shivers when a burst of toxic wind billows out of the cave. “I refuse to bring him any closer considering the dead birds. In truth, I would prefer if we moved him back a mile or two to be safe.”

“Luke weak and numb,” Fizzle replies, hovering above the wheezing half-elf. “No know how long Luke last. Fizzle go with Timoran. Fizzle fast and magic.”

“I’ll go inside with you,” Zander offers while massaging a cooling salve into his aching shoulders. He draws his scimitar and checks the edge for nicks. “Give me a few minutes to do some maintenance on my weapons. I want to make sure I’m at my best for whatever is lurking in there.”

“What you think there?” the drite curiously asks.

The veteran hunter runs a whetstone along his sword and licks his lips as he considers what he knows of the terrain. “If we were going into a normal cave system then I’d guess shadow lurking beasts, giant spiders, and a solitary top predator. There’s always a lone beast that’s turned a cave system into its own kingdom. Those tend to make clean out jobs a real hassle. Anyway, I’ve no idea what we’ll find in this place. All I can think is something ancient, angry, and quite possibly corrosive. The gypsy should be able to charm and illusion us through a few of the challenges.”

“Sari will stay here with Luke,” the barbarian says, drawing his great axe. Not letting the gypsy argue, he swiftly explains his reasoning. “I am not comfortable with all of this either, but it appears we have no choice. Someone needs to watch over our friend.”

Fizzle taps Timoran on the shoulder and points his tail at Sari, who is not paying attention to her surroundings. She has moved back down the faint road to the base of an old pine, which seems out of place among the naked oaks and birches. Weaving her hands over her head, she creates a bed of snow with a layer of pine needles on the top. She puts a dry blanket over her creation and rises to her feet, wiping the snow from her skirts.

“Kill whatever is causing Luke pain,” Sari demands, refusing to turn around. She shifts her feet and beckons with both hands, causing a wave of snow to carry the unconscious Luke to the makeshift bed. “I’ll be waiting here. Even Stephen and Trinity won’t be able to defeat me because I’m not in the mood to hold back. I have an entire forest of snow and ice at my fingertips.”

“Part of me hopes they show up just so I can see what happens,” Zander admits with a friendly grin. He sheathes his scimitar and goes to work putting a new string on his longbow. “I don’t think we have much to discuss here. Unless you have a plan, Timoran. Not that we have anything to work with since we’re completely in the dark.”

“We go in and kill the Dark Wind’s source,” the barbarian declares. He takes a deep breath and lets his primal rage churn beneath his calm façade. “I will take the lead and handle all physical threats. Fizzle will focus on trap spells, barriers, and magical creatures. Zander will remain at range for as long as he can. If things look dire then I expect Fizzle to retreat since he is the fastest.”

“Fizzle return all here. Fizzle not leave Timoran behind.”

Zander clears his throat and raises his hand. “What about me?”

“Hunter can come too.”

“Thanks, I think.”

“Enough wasting time!” Sari angrily snaps, snow whirling around her body. “If you three don’t head out in the next minute, I’m hurling you in there!”

Timoran puts his hands up as he approaches the fuming gypsy, his axe held so the head is pointing to the ground. He kneels in front of Sari, who fights back her sobs and maintains her furious stare. She crumbles the moment the barbarian gives her a one-armed hug. Warm tears run onto his shoulder as he waits for his friend to release her pent up sorrow. With a high-pitched squeal, she takes in a shuddering breath and slips out of the warrior’s grasp. He pats Sari on the head as she takes a seat next to Luke, the gypsy already looking calmer and more in control of her emotions.

“I’m sorry, Timoran.”

“It is okay,” the barbarian assures his friend. He wipes a few tears from his own eyes, revealing that he is as worried as her. “You love him dearly and it hurts to see him in pain. Your patience is running out, but I ask you to hold on a little longer, my friend. Luke needs you to stay strong and protect him while we are away. His life is in your hands and I know you will not fail him. We will be victorious in the Cave of Winds. I promise.”

“Gale Hollow,” Sari mutters with a forced smirk.

The large man laughs and hoists his tiger-striped great axe onto his shoulder. “Gale Hollow it shall be and Delvin will forever be remembered as the man who named it. Though I do not know how such things are officially done.”

“Tell it to a few bards and the entire region will be saying Gale Hollow by the end of the month,” Zander interrupts, his cowl over his head. He pulls on a pair of leather gloves that make his hands shimmer as they move a fraction faster than normal. “Shall we dive into the unknown, General Wrath?”

“Never call me that,” the barbarian growls.

“My apologies.”

Timoran shakes his head and blinks as if his vision is fuzzy. “Forget it. You did not know I have issues with the title. Let us head out before my rage fades and the Dark Wind takes a stronger hold on the region.”

With Fizzle on his shoulder and Zander a few steps behind, the barbarian sets his sights on Gale Hollow. The roaring wind seems to threaten the three travelers as they approach, making Timoran grin in anticipation of a good fight.

9

Luke knows he is in his mind as soon as his eyes open to the sight of gray clouds within his reach. With a grunt, he sits up and looks down at the snow-covered forest. There are no animals within view even though part of him senses their existence. Most of the hidden creatures are subtle heartbeats that he forgets about when he is no longer paying attention to them. He can see Sari curled next to his body and he guesses that the others have gone into Gale Hollow. The forest appears to be serene and pure, but Luke can sense the curtain of death that has embraced the region. Willing himself to see the truth, wisps of Dark Wind appear around the trees and clouds. It is a thick network of misty cords that remind the half-elf of the wire cages his grandfather uses to catch insects. The thought that every living thing in the forest is nothing more than a bug to his enemies causes him to shiver, so he stretches and walks around the sky as if on solid earth.

“So am I going to meet a god or is this part of the Dark Wind curse?” Luke asks the clouds that churn above him.

A booming roar cuts through the thick storm in the northeast, revealing the distant Widowhorn. For a second, Luke swears he sees an enormous figure shimmering next to the forked mountain. Without warning, his sound sight turns on and focuses on an undulating form moving around the forked peak. At first, the half-elf thinks he is seeing the powerful high winds of the area, but the silhouette of a mouth opens to reveal long, glistening teeth. When the mysterious beast’s jaws clap shut, his senses catapult back into his skull. Holding his aching head, Luke sinks to the ground and leans against a humming tree for support.

“It seems you’re not strong enough to see the Garden of Uli,” a guttural voice says from above his head.

Luke is surprised when he sees Fizzle sitting in the lower branches of the tree. “What happened to your voice?”

“This is how I would sound in my native tongue,” the drite replies, climbing down the tree and onto an icy stone. He sits on his haunches and pulls an apple out of thin air to casually eat with more refinement than his typical devouring. “You are communicating with the part of my aura that is inside you. I’m limited in my knowledge and you have more subconscious control than I do, which is why I’m slowly eating an apple.”

“You like apples.”

“I love apples, but that’s not the point.”

“What’s the point?”

“I believe we should take to the air.”

Another roar erupts from the direction of the Widowhorn, which has become covered by the darker clouds. This time a threatening hiss replies to the noise and a shadowy serpent rises from the wintery forest. Its phantasmal coils pass through the trees as its body bloats, crimson stripes appearing on its hide. The creature calls out to the mountain with a strange combination of a hiss and rattle. There is no reply and the serpent grows agitated, the air thickening with its palpable rage. Luke and Fizzle soar to the clouds to watch the beast violently thrash below, its body denting the ground.