Curse Of The Dark Wind (Book 6) (9 page)

The others laugh, Timoran’s baritone voice shaking fresh snow from the branches above his head. He shakes the powder out of his hair, being careful not to laugh along with his friends and risk another bath of flakes. As the noise dies, a cold wind whips at them and the horses slow down enough for Nyx to catch up. The beasts sniff the air, their anxiety finally easing when the gusts stop.

“So, Sari, do you remember anything from when you were captured?” Delvin asks, hoping to distract everyone. Leaning forward, he pats his mount’s neck, feeling the tense muscle beneath its skin. “We should talk and act casual to keep the horses calm. Timoran and Luke will keep their senses alert for danger.”

“Good idea,” the gypsy agrees, kissing her horse’s head and stroking its cheek. “I don’t really know what to say about my coma. Stephen kept me frozen while he experimented on me and I only have foggy memories of what he did. Not sure why, but he was hurting me and the injuries were appearing on my mental self. He would heal me too, so he wasn’t trying to kill me.”

“He wanted to test you,” Nyx interjects as she rides alongside her friend. “Maybe he’s never captured a live champion before and thought experimenting on you would give him some insight to the rest of us. I’m surprised he gave you back instead of killing you. Not that I’m upset about you being alive, but it’s strange.”

Delvin strokes his chin, noticing that his scruff is turning into a short, messy beard. “Not really. Sari was about to explode and could have frozen all of us. Remember that Stephen threw her at Luke, but you tackled him out of the way. So his intention must have been to use her as a weapon after he was done with his experiments. He never expected Isaiah to show up and take her to the Island of Pallice. Did anything else happen while you were asleep, Sari? Maybe you experienced something the rest of us will when we reach our temples.”

The memory of the amorous Nyx phantom comes to Sari’s mind as she opens her mouth to answer. Deciding not to answer, the gypsy nervously licks her lips and pushes her horse to trot ahead. She groans when she comes alongside Luke and her beast slows down due to the uneven ground. She fails to urge her mount in front of the group, so she gives up and lets the animal pick the pace. The blue-haired girl gradually ends up between Nyx and Delvin again, her eyes focusing on the back of her traitorous horse’s head.

“I had visions and challenges from the naiad part of my aura,” Sari explains in a soft, faint voice. She shudders at the memory of the specters she had seen in her mind, each one disturbing in its own way. “I faced my darker emotions like guilt, anger, and fear. It was like a part of me was testing my limits to make sure I could handle my powers. Well I was basically told that was the case along with being called stupid a few times.”

“Why are you scared of admitting that?” Nyx asks, reaching out to touch her friend’s arm. The caster nearly slips from her saddle and scrambles to regain her balance. “You made it out of there stronger and in time to save me.”

“The visions took the form of people I know, so it’s still uncomfortable to talk about the details,” the gypsy mentions, relaxing at the nod of understanding she gets from Delvin. “Kayn was my anger and Mira, a friend who died in Kalam’s dungeon, was my guilt. I don’t remember who my fear was since the memory is fuzzy. Then things got weird.”

“Like what, little sister?”

“I’d rather not get into it.”

“I promise I won’t laugh.”

“Drop it, Nyxie.”

“Not fun being needled, huh?”

“No, so stop.”

“It can’t possibly be that bad.”

“I killed an evil Luke and I think I had made out with a very lustful you!” Sari yells, talking quickly to get the words out. She hangs her head and a coating of protective frost appears on her skin. “I’m not proud of either act even though it was in my head. They weren’t really you two, but versions of you created by my mind. Apparently, all of my negative emotions are connected to Luke or something like that. I don’t really understand. As for the Nyx . . . my mind picked you to represent my passion and you were very . . . handsy.”

The caster’s horse slows down as its rider clears her throat and blushes. “I’m not sure what to say. You’re very kind and beautiful, Sari, and I’m flattered that part of you would be interested.”

The gypsy smiles warmly at Nyx as she wipes the frost from her arms. The group rides on in silence, the only noises coming from the surrounding forest. Red cardinals and brown sparrows dart through the trees in search of food, the birds keeping an eye out for predators that are getting desperate for a meal. A gentle breeze knocks snow onto their heads as the sun emerges from the clouds, its light enhanced by the white landscape. A few wrens sing in the distance and a herd of deer bound across their path, forcing the adventurers to stop and wait.

Unwilling to remain silent any longer, Luke smirks and asks, “So what do you and Sari really do in that tent, Nyx?”

The caster’s temper flares and fire erupts from her hair, the short style taking on the appearance of a rolling inferno. Terrified by the burst of noise and heat, her horse rears back and screams. Its front legs frantically kick out, nearly hitting Sari who gets her mount away from the panicking beast. Everyone is struggling to turn around and get to Nyx, but her horse bolts into the forest and crashes through the snowdrifts to disappear from view.

“Horses really do hate her,” Timoran says, urging his powerful steed to pursue.

*****

After a few hours of silently following Nyx’s trail, Delvin holds his fist up to get everyone to stop. He pats his horse as he looks through the trees and over an expanse of small snow mounds. They can see Nyx kneeling over a prone figure in the middle of the clearing, but her horse is nowhere to be seen. Their mounts shift uncomfortably, the subtle scent of danger making them anxious. Delvin dismounts and ties his horse to a tree, gesturing for the others to follow suit. He watches their distant ally shudder in the cold, the half-elf not using her magic to keep warm.

“Do you sense anything, Timoran?” he quietly asks.

“All I hear is a constant buzzing. It is nothing more than bees from a few hives in the lower branches,” the barbarian answers. He steps out from among the trees, gaining the distant caster’s attention. “It looks like she found an injured traveler. Judging from the form, it appears to be a man, so she may need help lifting him.”

They watch as Nyx carefully rises to her feet and waves at them with both hands. She swings her arms around at the hilly clearing, but nobody can figure out what she is trying to say. The prone figure touches her ankle, causing her to crouch again and rub the traveler’s back. She blows on her hands, a brief spark coming off her lips and warming her hands.

“I’ll take the lead,” Delvin whispers, moving ahead of the barbarian.

“Wait. Something isn’t right here,” Luke hisses, inching over to the other warrior. “Nyx came in here with her horse, but I don’t see it. I can’t see any trails showing that it left the area either. It disappeared without a trace.”

“Maybe Nyx got in a fight with a predator and the horse is hiding behind one of the mounds,” Sari suggests, drawing two daggers from her boots. “Some of those piles are pretty big.”

“No signs of any combat magic going off like melted snow or disturbed piles,” the forest tracker replies, rubbing his palms against the pommels of his sabers. The polished rubies seem to hum when a ring of wood-like metal touches one of them, a glint of pink energy running along the basket hilts. “I guess a flying predator could have carried the horse off. It looks like a struggle might have happened off to Nyx’s right, so it’s possible. Though, why is Nyx and that traveler staying there?”

“We can argue this all we want, but it’s pointless,” Delvin says, unsheathing his blade and shifting his buckler into position. “The longer we talk, the more danger they’re in out there. If anything, that traveler could be dying of severe injuries as we speak. I refuse to let that happen because we’re busy arguing.”

“I agree, but it won’t help if we get trapped too,” the half-elf insists. He glances at Nyx again, wondering why she is gesturing for them to leave again. “There has to be a way to get them without putting ourselves in danger.”

Timoran cocks his head to the side and puts his hand on Delvin’s shoulder. “I agree with Luke that danger may be lurking nearby. Yet we cannot leave our friend and that traveler in the open. If we move quickly, grab them, and continue running to the far trees then we can circle back for our horses.”

“Sounds like the best plan we can make in such a short time,” Sari says with a shrug.

Delvin sheathes his longsword, freeing his hands to grab Nyx, and leads the group through the snow mounds. He carefully weaves around the piles, every step crunching on brittle sticks that are hidden beneath the powder. The loud crack of a snapping branch under Timoran’s boot causes everyone to stop and hold their breath. All they can hear is the buzzing of the nearby bees, so Delvin continues moving. Staring ahead, they watch Nyx wave her arms and signal for them to turn back, her gestures becoming frantic. By the time they reach her the caster is red-faced from the biting cold and her barely controlled fury.

“You idiots,” she hisses, punching Delvin in the shoulder. “Now we’re all in trouble. I was whispering not to come over here. Why didn’t you hear me, Timoran?”

“The buzzing of the bees is rather deafening,” the barbarian replies, worry etched into his face. “I apologize, but at least we are all together.”

Sari bends down to examine the groaning man dressed in leather armor, the brown material covered in bite and claw marks. She is surprised to find a finely crafted and expertly maintained scimitar on the man’s belt. A bear fur cloak is draped over the traveler, but he is still shivering with blue lips and ashy skin. Pushing a lock of blonde hair away from the man’s neck, she finds a small puncture wound below the edge of the jaw. The area around it is red and starting to blister, one of the sores having popped to reveal dried, yellow pus.

“Those aren’t bees,” Nyx angrily growls.

The sound of a terrified horse startles everyone and causes Luke to curse under his breath, a hint of realization on his face. They turn around to see one of the beasts has broken free of its tether and is racing across the clearing. It tramples one of the mounds of snow, the air filling with the sound of splintering branches and buzzing. A geyser of creatures erupts from the ground and dives at the horse, enveloping the beast in seconds. Most of the predators carry their fresh meal back into the earth, but several of them stay aboveground. The remaining long-nosed insects hover in the air on vibrating wings, their yellow and black bodies bloated with food that they slowly digest during the long winter. Sun glints off the axe-shaped tail dangling from their abdomen and their spindly legs curl against their bellies. One of the creatures occasionally darts into the forest and returns with freshly hewn branches to lay over the gaping hole in the ground.

“It looks like they’re distracted, so we can escape,” Delvin says, keeping his eyes on the large insects. “Then again, I’m worried that they’re not attacking.”

“Because they aren’t sure if we’re a threat or food,” Luke explains, gradually inching toward the fallen traveler. He feels the traveler’s pulse and frowns at the uneven beat. “Those are lumber wasps and they’re extremely venomous. Their face stingers inject enemies with a blood-corrupting toxin. They use it on other predators, but not prey because they aren’t immune to each other’s unique venom. That makes it nearly impossible to find a cure outside of magic. From the look of him, this guy doesn’t have very long. Can you open his mouth, Nyx?”

With a grimace of disgust, she gently pries upon the man’s sticky lips and watches Luke draw his saber enough to reveal an inch of the blade. Not wanting to draw the weapon and incite an attack, he uses the exposed edge to slice his thumb. Shivering from the cold on the wound, he puts his bleeding digit in the man’s mouth. After counting to ten, he frees his thumb and checks the stranger’s pulse again. The beat is stronger and more even as Luke’s antidote-like blood rushes through the man’s veins. The forest tracker wraps his hand in a clean rag, but his wound quickly seeps through the material.

“It’s a natural poison, so my blood can neutralize it. We should be able to move him within a few minutes. That still doesn’t get us out of trouble.”

“I still don’t see why we can’t sneak out,” Sari says, getting closer to the half-Elven warrior. She undoes the sloppy bandage and fixes it, so he can freely move his thumb. “They’re repairing the broken spot and not paying any attention to us. We quietly move away from them and circle back for the remaining horses like we originally planned.”

“They’re watching us and are listening for our footfalls,” Luke states. He uses his foot to carefully dig through the snow and reveal a patchwork of wood. “Lumber wasps dig out an area of the forest and build an underground hive of wood, which we could have seen if it wasn’t for the snow. The mounds are the entrances and the horse breaking through one agitated them. So, the entire colony is on edge and waiting to see if we go near another mound. They know people like us have weapons and are dangerous, so they’re not going to blindly attack.”

“Smart bugs,” Delvin whispers, rubbing his chin and watching the lumber wasps. “With the way the mounds are scattered about, we have no way of getting out of here without them misinterpreting our purpose. No wonder Nyx was telling us to stay away.”

“A little late on figuring that out, Cunningham,” the caster mutters under her breath, her body glowing from a subtle heat spell. “Can we distract them and run?”

“I do not believe that will work here,” Timoran says as he carefully picks up the injured traveler. He watches with relief as the man’s lips return to a healthy pink. “You can see how half of the lumber wasps are watching while the others work. A distraction would only work on some of them. Do you think Fizzle can help?”

“He went ahead to scout, remember?” Sari replies with a stern glare.

Nyx kneels over the spot that Luke cleared, wiggling her fingers to release a spray of warm sparks. The branches dry from the heat created by her subtle magic and a wisp of smoke drifts off the thinner pieces of wood. The caster bends lower to blow on the branches until they ignite, but a kick of snow kills the flames and hits her in the face. Sputtering and clawing at her numbing cheeks, Nyx gets to her feet and stumbles around. Delvin catches her by the shoulders to prevent her from getting too close to a mound, his eyes quickly shifting to the buzzing lumber wasps. Wiping the last of the snow off her face, the caster glares at Luke who is shaking snow from his boot.