King Of Souls (Book 2) (45 page)

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Authors: Matthew Ballard

BOOK: King Of Souls (Book 2)
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Ronan’s blade never stopped as he sliced through the sorcerer’s neck. He watched with sickening satisfaction as the sorcerer’s head separated from his shoulders. The head jettisoned a hundred feet outward disappearing into the camp’s murky shadows.

The sorcerer’s headless corpse teetered forward with his hand still clutching the crystalline whip. The corpse fell still atop the sand.

Ronan moved with a battle knight’s speed around Thoth slicing free his bonds.

Rika shifted into her human form before joining Ronan near Thoth’s injured eye.

Ronan severed the lasso constricting Thoth’s neck and flattened his palm near the deep cut beneath his eye. For the second time that day, he sent white healing energy flowing through the dragon’s body.

“You’ve taken a great risk human, and I thank you,” Thoth said. “But, you’ve merely delayed the inevitable. With the crystal embedded in my neck, the emperor can end my life on a whim.”

“He won’t have it yet Thoth. Now fly away.”

“Load the bodies onto my saddle, and I’ll carry them away from here,” Thoth said. “It should delay the Obsith for a few extra minutes.”

Ronan nodded and helped Rika load and secure the corpses onto Thoth’s saddle.

“Goodbye human and good luck. You’ll not likely see me again.”

Something in Thoth’s words left Ronan feeling unsettled, but he didn’t have time to argue. “Thank you Thoth. I’ll never forget your help.”

The dragon beat his mighty wings and climbed before disappearing into the starry night sky.

“Ready?” Ronan said.

Rika nodded and pulled the hood tight of her sorcerer’s robe.

Ronan listened for the thumping sound that would lead him to his sister, and his heart skipped a beat.

Only minutes ago, the rhythmic sound had beat strong and steady. Now, it sounded hollow and distant beating with a faint disjointed tremor.

A sharp chill rose along Ronan’s spine, and he enhanced his hearing to trace its location. “I think Danielle’s in trouble. We have to hurry.” He faced the faint sound, took Rika’s hand, and walked fast enough to draw the least notice from the camp’s defenders.

Empty huts and abandoned campfires flew by as Ronan and Rika passed along the camp’s outer edge.

A growing unease brewed in Ronan’s stomach. He didn’t know where the Obsith had vanished, but he welcomed the thin resistance.

“Where is everybody?” Rika said in a hushed whisper.

Ronan froze as his enhanced hearing detected loud cheering from a crowd gathered toward the camp’s center. “I think they’re all gathered in the middle of camp.” He struggled to find the thumping sound then heard a faint beat come from behind a clear windowless building.

Behind the translucent building, the trail ended. Unlike the camp’s other buildings, the strange blue filter didn't appear above its flat roof.

As Ronan rounded the corner, he gasped and stood frozen as numb shock spread across his brain.

Thousands of dead animals lay heaped in a six-foot mountain of carcasses stretching twenty yards long. Atop the pile nearest Ronan, Danielle’s charred body lay face down not moving.

Silver Soul

 

Ronan’s legs buckled as the horrific scene hit him harder than any knight’s magic ever could. Hot bile forced itself up his throat, and his stomach threatened to spill his dinner over the desert sand.

A pair of strong steady hands took hold of his shoulders lending him strength while blood rushed from Ronan’s head.

“Ronan, if you can still hear the thumping sound then she’s not dead,” Rika said from over his shoulder whispering into his ear. “You can help her. She needs you to stay strong.”

“This lies beyond my ability Rika. There’s not a healer in Meranthia skilled enough to heal her injuries.” His voice shook, and he stumbled forward until he stood over Danielle’s mangled body. “I’m afraid the healing might kill her. She’s so weak.”

“You have to try.” Rika rubbed Ronan’s back and kept her voice low. “She’ll die otherwise.”

Ronan gazed on his sister’s burned face and tried to push away the spreading numbness locking down his thoughts.

Sections of Danielle’s lip had burned away revealing blackened teeth beneath. A mass of charred flesh rose from her nose socket. Her eyelids had burned halfway off revealing slivers of her blue glassy eyes glazed over with death. Her wavy blond hair had burned away replaced with oozing red patches of blistered flesh and stunted clusters of blackened roots.

With the gentlest touch, Ronan pushed away strands of singed hair from Danielle’s cheeks. He leaned forward stopping an inch from her ear. “Hang on Danielle.” Ronan whispered as tears welled in his eyes. “I’m here.”

Ronan pressed three fingers against Danielle’s neck and felt the faintest glimmer of a pulse. Without enhancement magic, he might have mistaken her for dead. He closed his eyes and focused inward on the well of power given him by Elan’s Sphere. Channeling more healing magic than he’d ever dared, Ronan kept his fingers pressed to Danielle’s neck. He sent white flows of healing energy over and into her body.

Milky white weaves surrounded Danielle. They began near her head and spread downward wrapping her entire body in a smoky white cocoon. White energy passed over her lips and in through her nostrils. As the mists faded, Danielle’s condition remained unchanged.

“Why isn’t it working?” Nervous tension replaced the calm confidence present in Rika’s voice a moment ago.

Waves of hot fear flashed across Ronan’s vision, and he stared slack-jawed at his sister’s ruined body. “She’s too far gone…I don’t know how to help her.” With trembling hands, Ronan reached under Danielle and eased her body from the piled animal carcasses. He placed her on the soft desert sand. He wouldn’t have her last moments on earth sullied.

Ronan stripped the Obsith robe from his body and placed it beneath Danielle’s head and neck. "That's better isn't it Danielle?" He choked on the words.

“There must be some way we can help her,” Rika said. “I’ll use my healing power. Keely once did the same for me.”

“And it almost killed her.” Ronan shook his head. “I can’t let you do it. It could kill you both.”

“Then what? We can’t let her die.” Rika knelt over Danielle’s body and tears filled her eyes.

Ronan held Danielle’s limp hand and felt death’s cold grip pressing in. He leaned over her body and touched his forehead to hers. “I’m sorry Danielle. I love you, but I’m not strong enough to save you.” He recalled the first moment he’d seen his sister last year in north camp, and their first conversation in the woods later that day. From the first moment he’d known her, Danielle had never placed her needs above another's. Her soul’s true kindness had shone like a beacon forging an unshakable bond between them. He’d known it the moment he first laid eyes on her. Her forgiving nature and willingness to trust others defined her. She had revealed her true essence.

The odd pull of a strange presence nudged Ronan’s consciousness. Unlike Thoth’s probing push, this sensation felt alien yet natural as if born from his own mind.

His eyes fluttered open, and he pulled a few inches away from his sister.

A thin silvery strand of light connected their foreheads where Ronan’s skin had touched Danielle. A layer of fine silver mist blinked into existence surrounding Danielle as if finally revealed.

A slight groan escaped Danielle’s lips, and her fingers twitched before squeezing Ronan’s hand.

Ronan’s eyes widened and hope swelled inside his chest. “Rika! Look!”

A hundred points of bright silver light, each no larger than a pinhead, winked on. They gathered in the spot on Danielle’s forehead where Ronan had touched her. Like spring moss on a tree stump, the silver pinpoints spread outward. They crisscrossed Danielle’s nose, lips, and scalp repairing the fire’s damage. They moved along her body leaving behind a wake of healthy smooth skin.

Rika clutched Ronan’s shoulder and squeezed grinning. “Ronan, how did you do it?”

Ronan shook his head and stared at his sister afraid to move for fear the healing might stop. With a trembling hand he leaned forward and ran his fingers through Danielle’s thick golden curls. “I didn’t. I mean…I don’t know.”

Danielle’s eyes fluttered open, and she stared into the starry sky. The mist surrounding her and the thin silver line attached to her forehead blinked out as if they’d never existed.

Ronan enveloped Danielle’s hand in both his own feeling the warmth return to her flesh. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers. “Danielle, can you hear me?”

“Ronan?” A thread of bewilderment touched her voice.

Ronan shot a quick glance toward Rika. Her expression suggested the same worry he felt. “It’s me. Rika’s here too.”

“Have I died Ronan? Are you and Rika dead too?”

“Nobody died Danielle,” Ronan said.

“Where are we?” Danielle pushed herself to a seated position and looked around. She clutched the Obsith sorcerer’s robe to her body covering her exposed chest. When her eyes met the translucent building a few feet away, she grimaced. “We’re still in Trace’s camp?” Her brow furrowed as she looked between Rika and Rona with curiosity etched on her face. “Why are you two looking at me like that?”

“Danielle, you were badly burned. Don’t you remember?” Rika said.

“I remember standing in Trace’s quarters.” Her eyes widened, and she gasped. “Arber!”

Beyond the crystal building, distant voices grew louder as they approached.

“I’m sorry Danielle, but we can’t stay here.” Ronan stood and pulled Danielle to her feet.

Danielle swayed and grabbed Ronan’s hands steadying herself. The robe covering her body slipped free exposing her bare chest, but Danielle seemed not to care.

Rika swooped in and slid her hand around Danielle’s waist holding her steady. She plucked the burlap robe from the sand and slipped it over Danielle’s head.

“We can’t leave,” Danielle said. “Trace has Lora’s Sphere, and he has a heartwood tree.”

“I’m not letting him walk away with Lora’s Sphere,” Ronan said. “Where’s his quarters? Can you remember how to get there?”

“I think so,” Danielle said as she adjusted the robe. “Arber’s here too.”

A hot flicker of rage sparked in Ronan’s brain, and he glared toward camp.

“He’s not what you think,” Danielle said. “You have to trust me.”

Ronan found it hard to believe, but he didn’t have time to argue. “For now I’ll take you at your word. I promise not to kill him until I hear you out.”

“Thank you,” Danielle said.

The approaching voices grew louder. Deeper voices mingled with high-pitched youthful tones marking them as sorcerers.

“I think they’re coming from that way.” Ronan pointed behind him from where they’d arrived earlier. “Come on.” He slid his blade from its scabbard and channeled spirit shields around him, Rika, and Danielle. “Danielle, lead the way.”

***

Danielle lowered her voice and leaned into Ronan. “Ronan, put the blade away. If they discover us, we’ll never get back Lora’s Sphere.”

Ronan clenched his jaw and shoved the sheba blade into the scabbard at his shoulder. “Trace has a bracelet he uses to control the dragons. I mean to remove it. By force if necessary.”

Danielle shook her head and whispered in a low urgent tone. “We have to be smart about it. I mean to take Lora’s Sphere back before we leave this camp.”

Blurred figures and flickering torches appeared through both sides of the prison cell's walls. They moved in a direct path toward Rika, Ronan, and Danielle. Within seconds, the approaching group would converge on the fetid carcass pile.

A cold sweat broke out on Danielle’s forehead. “Ronan, climb on top of the pile. Hurry.” Danielle spoke in a hushed whisper. “Rika, take a gazelle’s form and play dead.”

Ronan scrambled atop the twisted pile of bloody carcasses while Rika hurried behind him. He lay face down while Rika stretched out over him shifting into a large gazelle. She kept her eyes open and still doing her best to play dead.

Danielle scurried after Rika, plopped down, and positioned her body atop Ronan’s legs and feet. She held her breath and shifted into a black-striped forest gazelle colored a shade lighter than Rika.

The sound of muffled voices grew louder as sorcerers and shaman rounded the corner. Two muscled shaman pulled a glistening red wagon built from the now familiar desert crystal. Inside the wagon bed, Arber lay motionless, his arms and legs bent and twisted at awkward angles. Two dozen lash marks, fresh and bloody, crisscrossed his face, chest, and legs. His mouth hung open and eyes closed while his body bounced and jiggled with the wagon’s movement.

Danielle stifled a chirping sound common to forest gazelle. She forced long slow breaths despite her pounding heart.

A hooded sorcerer stopped before the carcass heap and paused. His gaze flickered across Danielle and Rika’s still bodies before settling on the pile’s far end. “Leave him on the cart. We’ll feed him to the dragons with the rest.”

The rank stench of death and rotting flesh lying bare inches from Danielle’s nose turned her stomach. She held her breath afraid the slightest movement might bring the entire camp down on them.

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