Curse Of The Dark Wind (Book 6) (3 page)

Trinity glances back at the Cave of Winds where demonic howls can be heard with every burst of putrid air. “Remember how you were wondering where the smoke and corruption go when the magic winds grab them?”

“And how I could use such power to reach my goals. It might even be enough to give me the power to defeat Gabriel if I chose to challenge him.”

“The pollution goes to Shayd, which is why there are eternal black clouds there,” she says with a wicked smirk. Turning to the confused man, she softly pats him on the cheek and stands on her toes to put her lips against his ear. “Your father absorbed the gathered corruption centuries ago and never told you. Even now, he increases his strength by making himself the reservoir. I’ll see you back at camp. I suddenly feel like celebrating, little warlord.”

Stephen glowers at Trinity as she fades away, her body becoming a curtain of leaves that is whisked away by the sour wind. He watches her disappear over the trees, his mind drifting between ever darkening thoughts. A chuckle slips from his mouth and steadily rolls into echoing laughter, forcing him to clutch his aching sides. With a deep breath of the corrupted air, he calms his nerves and walks in the direction of their distant camp.

*****

“You seem tired, youngling,” Ram says as he approaches Gabriel. The ancient God of War whinnies at the sight of the raven-haired god slumped in a black and silver throne. “I believe this is the first time I have ever seen you look so . . . haggard. The luster of your platemail has faded and there are creases on your face. One could say you are starting to resemble your age.”

“Something I always wondered, relic. Why does a god named Ram have the head of a horse?” the God of Destiny asks. He groans while his wife massages his shoulders, her cobalt skin and ebony hair glistening in the sunlight. “Dear Ambrosine, I sense that this is going to be a private conversation. Would you please pretend to leave us while really hiding within one of the shadows?”

“You know me too well, my love,” the Chaos Elf Goddess whispers, kissing her husband on the lips. She walks by the War God, stroking his bare, barrel chest with her hand and slipping into the nearest shadow.

“I argued with Gar about the wisdom of giving so many powers to a young, impulsive gypsy. Then I had to listen to Lorvis complain about the death of one of his followers,” Gabriel explains, struggling to keep his voice from rising in pitch. He whistles and the throne dissolves into dirt, a pair of moles escaping from the mound. “My day gets even better. Uli and Kerr arrived to voice their opinions on favoritism. Kerr is angry that the barbarian has received fewer gifts than the forest tracker, but Uli feels it is fair because of a severe difference in physical strength. I am happy to receive the support of the other gods, but listening to all of the bickering and whining is driving me to insanity. I assume you are here to say something about the mercenary. Believe that I have plans for him and you will not be disappointed.”

“Trust that the other gods appreciate you hearing them out. I am sure most of them merely want to feel like they are contributing,” Ram assures the younger immortal. He scowls when Gabriel waves an apple in front of the War God’s brown and white snout. “You may be more powerful than I, but I am your elder. I would appreciate some respect. Otherwise, I might return the favor by asking Silvestra to send you a flock of songbirds that sing off key.”

The Destiny God shrugs and eats the apple, his emerald eyes never moving from the horse-headed god. He lets the uncomfortable silence linger, hoping to gain the upper hand against the elder deity. A yawn escapes his lips, betraying his fatigue from having entertained the other gods for the last three weeks. He gently taps his black armor to transform it into a royal blue robe and loose-fitting breeches. Boots briefly appear on his feet, but he shrugs and wipes them away as if they are a layer of dust.

“It seems even the Tri-God needs rest from time to time,” says a soft voice from behind Gabriel. He glances over his shoulder at Zaria as she approaches, her white gown as pure and flowing as ever. “I have told you before that you have limits and should not push yourself too far.”

Dressed in a low-cut crimson dress, Ambrosine steps out of the shadows and hangs on her husband’s shoulders before the other goddess can come within reach. Zaria continues walking toward Ram, standing next to her friend with her arms delicately crossed. She meets the other woman’s gaze with a calm expression, secretly enjoying the furrowed brow of the Chaos Elf Goddess. Both deities politely turn to Gabriel when he snaps his fingers and a bolt of lightning strikes the ground between them.

“I would like to spend some time with my wife,” the God of Destiny mentions, his face darkening with his mood. “Please tell me what your business is with me.”

“I wished to congratulate you on the prophecy moving further than it has before,” Ram admits, scratching his white mane. He nods his head to prove he is being sincere, earning a barely visible grin from the younger god. “The inclusion of the Compass Key has opened up a greater possibility of success. I am surprised it has taken so many centuries for the item to be found by the champions.”

“That is because the previous groups were never told of the Compass Key,” Zaria interrupts, smiling sweetly at her frowning rivals. “So they were doomed to fail from the beginning of their path.”

“Only because they kept running into her,” Gabriel snaps, enjoying the pained expression on the Purity Goddess’s face. He slips out of Ambrosine’s slender arms to approach his old rival and ally. “I admit that some champions were made entirely to keep our enemy’s agents busy while I prepared stronger candidates. Yet most of them had the potential. They simply had the misfortune of making the same mistake. The Compass Key can never fall into Arthuru Kernaghan’s hands, so I had to keep it from my own champions. Now I have a group that is more . . . noble than their predecessors and the relic is back on the chessboard. Things will be moving quickly and our looming nightmare will be over before too long.”

“That does bring me to a curiosity,” Zaria states, pausing when she senses something on the breeze. “You have given so much power to the caster and the gypsy. I have to wonder if this is wise. The gypsy has been repeatedly captured and the lineage of the caster has a very dubious history. Either one of them falling into our enemy’s hands could unlock our destruction.”

Gabriel sighs and turns his back on the shorter goddess, putting his arm around his beloved wife’s waist. “Trust that I know what I am doing, Zaria. I have been working on the caster’s lineage since before the Great Cataclysm and have weeded out the issues. As for the gypsy, I gave her such power to give her the edge against our enemies. The girl is physically weak, but the powers and skills at her disposal will make it difficult to contain her. If anything, you should worry about the progress of the warriors. One has a long way to go before he reaches his full potential and another has not moved from where he started. The third one is so unpredictable that I refuse to guess what he will do.”

“Do not worry yourself, little savior,” Ram whispers, putting a hand on Zaria’s head. He tousles her crimson hair like he remembers doing when she was a child. “Progress is being made and it has been entertaining to watch these champions perform. Kerr the Wild Lord is still gloating about the victories of his chosen, which has stirred a debate with Gola’s speaker about who is the strongest champion. There have even been bets on what the forest tracker will do next and on who he will be with in the end. We are having a glorious time watching events unfold, younglings. So let us avoid this bickering and save our energy for when a disaster appears.”

“You assume something will go wrong,” Ambrosine hisses. She shies away from the War God when he seems to grow several feet in height and fire spurts from his nostrils. “My husband has all of this under control. He never lost when he was mortal and he will not lose now.”

“Thank you, my love, but the wise mule is right,” Gabriel bitterly says. He kisses her on the cheek and runs a hand through her soft hair. “Mortals have free will, so the unexpected will occur. It is only a matter of time before one of our pawns surprises us and throws the entire game into chaos. Besides, the sixth champion has yet to join the others and that has always been a source of trouble.”

“She is one of my greatest chosen, so I will handle her,” Zaria states, a shiver running up her spine. “I hope that you allow me to approach her this time. It will minimize the chance of history repeating itself.”

“You speak as if you stayed away the other times. I know you went behind my back to meet with your favorite follower,” the Destiny God claims as his eyes begin to close. A great slumber tries to consume his body and he struggles to fight the rare sensation. “Now I must be off to get some sleep and spend time with my wife. I trust all of you can keep things from falling into ruin without me.”

All four gods stop and look at the sky, a shifting cloud catching their attention. The green and black piece of fluff moves erratically as if it is nervous from the stares of the powerful beings below. Ambrosine is the first to snap out of her trance and hurls a crimson javelin at the intruder. The metal weapon twists and splinters against an invisible barrier, the remains turning into cooked shrimp as they fall to the ground. A whimpering yelp erupts from the cloud as it retreats across the ocean.

“Seems his pet goddess is spying again,” Gabriel says with an amused smirk. He gently takes his wife’s chin in his hand and kisses her lips. “Go chase her back to Shayd, my love. I will meet you at home.”

The cobalt-skinned goddess stretches her arms, purposely letting one hand shove Zaria to the side. She grins at the red-headed woman as she stands on her toes and bounces, her tongue out to taste the breeze. The dress tightens around her body, becoming a suit of crimson armor that is more for show than protection. Ambrosine launches into the sky and transforms into a lightning bolt that crackles into the distance.

The Destiny God fades away, his voice emerging from a nearby stone. “Again, I request that I be left alone. I will destroy anyone who disturbs me for anything less than another Cataclysm. Even then, it better threaten me personally. Good night.”

1

Autumn is turning into winter as the city of Gaia gradually returns to its former luster. There are still signs of the chaos elf invasion as the first snowfall of the year powders the roads and rooftops. Every streetlamp is adorned with black maple leaves to honor the dead, including those of the enemies whose bodies have been cremated. Houses with holes in their walls dot the landscape, quickly laid tarps preventing the snow from getting inside. All of these coverings glow dull red, emitting enough heat to keep the owners warm. Rainbow Tower stands in the distance, majestic and shimmering even with the gaping wound in its upper floors. The sounds of volunteers working on the grounds mix with the musical voice of Willow barking orders. The blonde caster’s ivory staff flashes whenever she needs to strengthen the barrier that keeps the area in a state of perpetual autumn instead of succumbing to the cold. It will not be long before she can rest since the rebuilding of her beautiful garden has become a citywide project, the citizens arriving to help and put in a few hours of work every day.

Away from the noise, two solitary figures stand atop Gaia’s ancient arena and look out over the city. The young warrior with ice-blue eyes wraps his thick jacket around his body, though he barely feels the chill in the air. His brown hair is whipped in the wind caused by the passing of several griffins, the cloaked riders waving and shouting greetings on their way back to the distant mountain. The young man leans against the gray stone, pulling out a notebook in one hand and an apple in the other. He blindly holds the fruit out for his reptilian companion to grab with a prehensile tail. The tiny, purple-scaled dragon devours the fruit and flutters into the air on crimson dragonfly wings. He lands within the padded hood of his friend’s jacket, snuggling into the wool and keeping his head on the young man’s shoulder.

“I should be able to figure this out, Fizzle,” Delvin calmly says, looking over his battered notebook. A blackened page comes off in his hand and crumbles into ashes that are whisked away by the breeze. “My role is the strategist, so there’s no problem that I can’t solve. I just need to find the right tools. I’ve planned raids and rescue missions several times. This shouldn’t be as difficult as those types of jobs.”

“This more dangerous,” Fizzle points out with a shiver. “Why we outside when fluffy rain fall?”

“Too many prying ears inside,” the warrior whispers, tucking his notebook into a pocket before it can get destroyed by the weather. “What about flowers?”

“Delvin try. Coiling vine spell.”

“Chocolate.”

“Melted and shifted into Delvin pants.”

“A new spellbook.”

“Burned.”

“Romantic dinner.”

Fizzle yawns and releases a burst of rainbow mist from his nostrils. “Delvin do many times. Nyx eat and things not change. Many times she take food away. Once she put Delvin sleep and stole cupcake.”

“I can never tell if she hates me or is flirting,” the warrior admits, turning his face to the cloudy sky. He smiles at the memory of sitting and talking with her in Visindor Forest, the event feeling like ages ago instead of months. “We connected once before, but now she’s staying away again. Not physically since we’ve been researching everything we think can be a lead to the next step of our destiny. Yet she’s keeping herself distant. I wish there was someone else I could talk to. No offense, Fizzle, but you have very little understanding of romance.”

“Delvin no better. Ask Luke and Sari?”

“Sari hasn’t left the Island of Pallice since her powers were awakened and I can’t bring myself to commandeer a ship to visit. The city needs all vessels for supply runs, so heading out for relationship advice would be selfish,” Delvin replies as he looks out at the distant horizon. He is distracted by loud cursing from inside the arena and turns to watch the team of historians climb out of the gaping hole in the middle of the structure. “As for Luke, we rarely see him. He was staying with Kira until she left for Bor’daruk to help her family prepare an aide ship for Gaia. Then he went to be with Sari and only shows up to help with repairs around the city or check in on Nyx. I can’t talk to him about this in front of her and Timoran has already said that I should be patient. I think you’re all I have, Fizzle.”