Enflamed (Book 2) (22 page)

The other warriors scrambled
about in a panic, unsheathing their weapons. One of them ran to Gaston.
“Sir!”

Gaston flung the dagger to the
ground. “Warn everyone!” he ordered, returning to his tent as he held his
injury. “Guard the egg!
To arms!”

Raban looked around wildly for
the attacker,
then
heard a faint squeaking sound above
him. He snapped his gaze up to look at the red-orange sky. The small fruit bat
he saw had an unnatural aura. Raban raised his fists, and called forth the
spirits of nature. He transformed into a crow and flew off, chasing after the
bat.

* * *

“They’re scareder than
a
’erd of deer!” Nester beamed proudly at Kaijin and Omari.

Maybe
.
Kaijin
wasn’t entirely convinced.

Omari frowned and carefully pushed
a stray branch out of his line of sight. The three had posted themselves not
far outside the camp’s perimeter, with an ideal view of its center. “Thank
Malik your little stunt did not expose us, Nester.” He glared at the brownie.

“‘Stunt’?
Now look ’ere, mate. If I wanted to be seen, I’d ’ave
done so.”

“Enough, you two,” Kaijin cut
in. “Remember the plan?”
We attack from the south; Sigmund, Zarya, and Aidan
flank from the north. Then we take advantage of the uproar.
He turned to Omari.
“Did Percival find anything?”

Omari’s gaze went distant. “He
has tracked the scent of the egg. It will not be long before it is located. How
is Miele faring?”

Kaijin shook his head slowly.
“She’s not found anything yet. She will alert me if—” Pain cut him off. He
looked to the sky, hearing Miele’s panicked fluttering, followed by a squawk
and the sound of larger wings flapping.

“What is it, Kaijin?” Omari
asked.

“Miele ...” Kaijin muttered.
“I must save her. I will catch up with you.”

Omari gawked at him. “Are you
mad? We have to do this together if we intend to succeed!”

“Oy!
What are you two waitin’ for?” Nester motioned for
Omari and Kaijin to follow. “Let’s go before th’ blokes get themselves
organized!”

Kaijin glared at Omari. “Miele
is in trouble. I have to help her. Go, now!” Another surge of pain pounded in
his head, and he winced, dropping to his knees.
“Erg!”

“Kaijin!”
Nester exclaimed.

Omari stuck out his arm and
barred the brownie from stepping closer. “Wait.” He scanned the sky briefly and
withdrew his quarterstaff from behind him. A crackle of electrical energy leapt
from his weapon hand.

Nester flinched.
“Woah!
Watch it! I don’t feel like gettin’ shocked again,
aye!”

Omari uttered “
Fulgori
”
toward the sky, summoning a bolt of lightning.

Gasping, Kaijin lunged at
Omari, in his last attempt to break his concentration. “No! Don’t hurt her!”

But it was too late.

Kaijin shut his eyes,
preparing for the pain—perhaps for death itself. Several seconds went by, but
he remained mentally unscathed. Instead of Miele’s death cries, Kaijin heard
something else—the raspy cries of a crow. He opened his eyes and gazed at the
dawn sky. The bird soared unsteadily toward the camp, a portion of its
tailfeathers ablaze. It didn’t make it very far, though, and crash-landed in
the brush several paces away from them.

“Soddin
’ells!
Did you see that?” Nester
stood on tiptoe to get a view of the smoking crow. “Strange, that was!”

Omari pushed Kaijin aside and
approached the fallen bird cautiously.
“Strange, indeed.
All the more reason for me to shoot it down.”

Kaijin was about to reply when
he felt Miele approach. She landed on his shoulder, shrieking happily. He
smiled and stroked her underbelly.
“Miele!
Thank the gods you’re safe.”

As they drew nearer, a strange
transformation overtook the crow. It grew and reformed into a man, who rolled
over and extinguished the fire that smoldered on the hem of his black robe.

Nester blinked.
“A man?”

“Not just a man—a mage,”
Kaijin said.

The corner of Omari’s lip
curled. “Not just a mage.
A renegade.”

XX

The crow-turned-man drew
himself
up and glared at Kaijin, Nester, and Omari. “How
dare
you call me some filthy mage!” he spat. He got up and brushed himself off. “I
am Raban, and my powers far exceed the unnatural scope of the arcane.”

Kaijin raised an eyebrow.
“How, exactly?”

Omari studied the dark-robed
man a moment and then shook his head. “He is right. He is no mage. I do not
feel an arcanic aura about him.”

“What? Then how do you
explain—” Kaijin stopped himself and realized Omari was right. Raban’s aura
radiated something unfamiliar. He’d never felt anything like it before, and it
was certainly nothing he recalled from Jarial’s teachings.

Nester sniffed at Raban and
wrinkled his nose. “Nay, ’e ain’t a fiddler. ’E’s a foresty bloke. They always
smell like old cabbage.”

Omari confronted Raban, his
hands clenching his quarterstaff. Lightning crackled from the tip of the staff.
“You bear the symbol of the Legion on your robe.” He scowled and spat at
Raban’s feet. “I will only ask you once. Where is the egg?”

The druid chuckled darkly.
“You think I am intimidated by your magic?” He extended his glowing fists to
the ground. Moments later, vines began to sprout from the soil.

Kaijin, Omari, and Nester
jumped back. Miele flew off Kaijin’s shoulder and hovered just above him.

Omari positioned his staff
defensively. “Get going, you two! I will handle him.”

Kaijin stepped forward,
reaching for Omari’s shoulder. Electricity arched from Omari’s body to Kaijin’s
hand, and Kaijin yelped and jerked it away.

Kaijin’s cry made Nester gasp
and instinctively rest his hand on the hilt of one of the daggers sheathed at
his belt.

With his eyes glowing white, Omari
swept a quick, sidelong glance at Kaijin. “Confound it! I said ‘Go!’ You two
must help the others!” The vines drew closer to Omari’s feet and began twining
around his ankles. Omari unleashed his lightning spell, searing the grasping
vines to ash.

Kaijin started following
Nester,
then
stopped to look over his shoulder.

Raban smirked. “So you want to
play with lightning, do you, mage?” He stretched his hand toward the sky and
began chanting in an unfamiliar language. His hand emanated a green glow, and he
closed his fist. Grey clouds formed, blotting out the morning light and dimming
the area. Raban quickly lowered his fist in front of his face. A bolt of
lightning shot down from the sky toward Omari, but the mage raised his staff
toward the bolt just as it struck him. A near-deafening crack of thunder
followed.

White, blinding light
encompassed Omari. His eyes lit up, pupilless, and his entire body jolted. He
stumbled backward and redirected the lightning from his staff toward the druid.

The counter-attack knocked
Raban off his feet. He stood back up. Omari went at him more swiftly than
before with seemingly renewed energy. Raban called forth more spiraling vines
to block the incoming mage, creating a tangled, thorny thicket of plants that
seemed to move on their own.

Kaijin moved to assist Omari,
but Nester grabbed his hand and tugged him away from the danger. “Nay, Kaijin.
We should go before that foresty bloke starts shootin’ lightnin’ at us next!”

“But—!” In his gut, Kaijin
knew Nester was right. He reluctantly followed Nester toward the southernmost
part of the camp.

Men and women scrambled from
their tents to fend off attacks from Sigmund, Aidan, and Zarya. Miele flew
around above the camp, and then dove for one of the tents. As Aidan stood his
ground, Kaijin could see the rage in his eyes. Aidan savagely attacked one of
his opponents with his claws, effortlessly ripping through scale armor like
paper. After his victim had fallen, an unknown caster unleashed a binding spell
at Aidan, which trapped the giant in place.

Zarya rushed to his side. Her
eyes darted back and forth, searching unsuccessfully for the spell’s caster.
She summoned a shield of blinding light around them both. Two attackers
flanking them dropped to their knees, cried out, and covered their eyes.

“Goddess
have
mercy ...” Sigmund drove his longsword through the back of one of the warrior’s
necks, severing the spinal cord. He impaled the other through the liver.

“Sigmund!
Look out!” Zarya jumped to her feet.

As Sigmund withdrew his blade from
one of the corpses, another warrior shoved him from behind. Sigmund grunted as
he fell, and the warrior closed in, his weapon pointed at Sigmund’s throat.

“You get Zarya. I’ll get
Sigmund.” Nester told Kaijin,
then
ran out to help
their comrades.

Kaijin began heading toward
Zarya, but his steps slowed as he felt his feet grow heavy. He looked at the
ground. Everything seemed normal, but somehow, he was unable to run.

What’s going on? I feel
like I’m walking through mud!
As
Kaijin struggled, someone grabbed his arms from behind, immobilizing him. Panic
fluttered in Kaijin’s chest as he desperately attempted to locate his
assailant.

A man in a cloak materialized
in front of Kaijin.

“Our brethren will be avenged—starting
with you.” The man raised a fist that glowed red.

Gritting his teeth, Kaijin
struggled against his captor, but he was held fast. Kaijin felt the fire charm
slip out from beneath his robe’s collar as he struggled. “Your men attacked my
companions. You stole a Dragon’s egg!” Kaijin panted.

Not far away, Miele flew out
of a tent, followed by Percival. The two animals dispersed, Miele returning to
the sky, while Percival scampered out of the camp.

The cloaked man laughed. “The
Legion does not steal,
boy
—they earn.”

Kaijin’s left eye twitched.
The man’s jeer ignited rage deep inside him. “I am
not
a boy!”

The man raised his fist, about
to chant a spell, and his gaze focused on Kaijin’s necklace. The man’s eyes
reflected the charm’s pulsating, fiery glow. “What is this?” he whispered,
lowering his hand.

Kaijin felt the heat of the
charm, and he struggled to get out of the man’s grip.
They must never have
it.
“No! Stay away! Leave it alone!”

“Keep him still,” the cloaked
man ordered his armored comrade.
“Amazing.
Gaston
would love to have something like this.”

No!
Kaijin attempted to kick the cloaked man, but his
feet remained like stone. The more he struggled, the more his captor’s iron
grip tightened. His shoulders strained under the pressure.

The cloaked man grabbed the
necklace. His face contorted in pain, and he quickly uttered a spell; an orange
glow encompassed his grasping hand.

Kaijin wanted to burn him to
death, but he was too distraught to concentrate on a single spell.
He can’t
... He won’t have it!
He smelled burning flesh.

The cloaked man snapped the
hemp cord from Kaijin’s neck.

“What is that thing, Devyn?”
the armored man asked.

Devyn grimaced and hissed,
quickly prying the charm from his flesh and holding the necklace by the broken
cord. He glanced at the imprint scalded into his palm. “I don’t know, but I
will find out soon enough. Find what other valuables he has on him, then kill
him and go help the others deal with his friends.” He turned and walked away.

“Yes, sir,” the armored man
responded.

Kaijin swallowed. The world
around him blurred. He felt naked, as if a piece of him had been taken away.
“Ignis!”
his mind called out. But there was no response. Kaijin’s heart raced.

So I am truly alone. I have
finally lost everything I’ve ever loved....

He went limp. He no longer had
the strength or will to fight back. The armored man jostled him and shoved him
to the ground. He ripped Kaijin’s haversack from him and tossed it away. The
orb spilled out through a gap in the top.

Kaijin curled up and awaited
his fate. The last thing he saw before his eyes closed was the orb emitting a
faint, fiery glow.

* * *

Aidan felt no pain, only rage
and contempt. The sensation confused and frightened him. Was it instinct?
Slayers are your enemy,
he kept hearing in his mind. Though he was not a
full Dragon, he shared their sentiments. It was time to bring those lowlifes to
justice—for his blood’s sake.

Zarya summoned a shield of
light, shattering the spell that restrained his arms and legs.

Aidan sought the caster and
then sniffed the air. The mage was well hidden, but his scent was strong. Aidan
followed the trail, ignoring the two warriors closing in on Zarya and Sigmund.

“Aidan! Where are you going?”
Zarya yelled after him.

Focused on his unseen enemy, he
didn’t respond.

“Zarya and I are being
flanked, Aidan!” Sigmund called.

Another scent caught Aidan’s
attention.
Gaston.
Aidan ran. The trail was
hot, and he would not let anything stop him.

He followed the trail to a
large tent. His invisible assailant fizzled into view out of thin air, blocking
his way.

Aidan narrowed his eyes and
growled at the red-cloaked human, who quickly retrieved something small from
his belt pouch. “Where is Kyniythyria’s child?”

The mage stepped backwards,
closing his hand over the dark-colored object. He uttered a phrase, and his
hands glowed purple.

Aidan stepped forward. “Aidan
asked you question!”

Something large and firm
bashed him from behind. Aidan grunted and fell flat on his face.

Gaston secured a steel shield
to his back and loomed over Aidan. “So, the half-breed pacifist has finally
shown his true nature.”

Aidan dug his claws into the
ground and bared his fangs. His voice crossed from his own to an animal’s
growl. “Gaston ...”

Gaston tilted his head. “My,
what has incited such rage in you, my friend? It is something worth studying
your corpse over. I have a few friends that would love to acquire you for their
research—and they are willing to pay quite a large sum, too.
But
first ... Devyn?”
Gaston nodded to the mage behind him.

Devyn returned the nod and,
smirking, unleashed two bands of purple light that extended toward Aidan.

Aidan roared and snarled,
twisting, trying to get away, but the bonds restrained his hands and feet. He
turned his head and glared at Gaston, vision going red.

What is this?
The red scared Aidan, and yet he knew what he had to
do. Something sharp prodded in the side of his neck; Aidan suspected it was
Gaston’s sword. He winced, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.

“
Carver,
now begins your first test,” Gaston said. “Come here and make your first kill.”

Footsteps approached Aidan
from the side. “Y ... yes, sir.”

Carver?
Aidan exhaled and opened his eyes. Carver had donned
scale armor that bore the Legion’s symbol. The eagerness and enthusiasm Aidan
remembered had left the boy’s face; all that remained was fear and uncertainty.

Carver took the sword from
Gaston and slowly aimed it at Aidan, but he did not attack.

“Hurry up, boy!” Gaston
barked. “We must deal with the rest of his friends.”

Aidan’s rage ebbed, leaving a
hollow sadness. “Carver ...”

Carver swallowed and bit his
bottom lip. “I can’t believe I trusted you, Aidan. I had no idea you were so
dangerous.”

“No, Carver,” Aidan said.
“Gaston has deceived you.”

“But your kind has killed
innocent people!”

“No, that is not true.”

Gaston scowled. “Enough. Give
me that.” He snatched the sword from Carver. “Hesitation means failure, Carver.
You have failed this day. You are not worthy of joining us. You seem to still
hold some feelings toward this stinking half-breed.”

Carver gasped.
“N
–
no, sir!
I swear, I
pledged my allegiance to you and the Legion!” He tried to grab the sword, but
Gaston shoved him away. Carver stumbled and hit the ground hard.

Aidan’s rage returned, and he
fought the magical bonds. He dug down deep and tapped into something he had
never touched before, something that felt strangely familiar.

He stared at Gaston. He
recognized the man’s scent, yet he didn’t know how. It was blood—
Dragon
blood.
Aidan deflated a little. “Aidan has question.”

Gaston raised a curious brow
and looked back at Aidan.
“A final question before your
death?”
He smirked.
“Very well, half-breed.
Entertain me.”