The Sorcerer's Abyss (The Sorcerer's Path) (31 page)

“I guess I’ll have to be. Do you think Sandy would be willing to help, at least part of the way?”

Wolf’s face hardened and his eyes turned serious. “I don’t know. She’s been as fanatical about practicing and getting stronger as you have been, and about as friendly too. I suppose we can ask.”

Wolf shouldered the knapsack and Ellyssa slung the sack of food over one shoulder by a strap. She dropped the Codex Arcana into an oiled leather satchel and draped it across her other shoulder before following behind Wolf and Ghost. She cast her small but cozy cave a final regretful glance as they left it behind.

It was slow going as Ellyssa’s fatigue forced them to a snail’s pace. Ghost constantly raced ahead of them, ranging back and forth to relieve the boredom of having to wait on her. It was mid afternoon when she had discovered Wolf and Ghost watching over her in her cave, and it did not take long before the sun dipped below the horizon, plunging the forest into darkness.

“We should stop for the night,” Wolf suggested. “Hopefully you will recover some strength by morning.”

Ellyssa needed no encouragement and dropped down on the deer trail they were following. “I hope so. It’ll take a month at this pace if I have to walk the entire way there. Do you know where Sandy is? I have hardly seen her near the school since we came back.”

“She’s been going farther away from the school as her magic got stronger. I don’t know if it’s because she was afraid to cause any damage nearby or if she just felt more confident being alone. The last place I saw her was in a big clearing about a day’s walk southeast of the school.”

“A day’s walk for you or for me?” Ellyssa asked with a groan.

Wolf grinned. “Best make it a day and a half, assuming you can pick up the pace a bit tomorrow.”

Wolf cut small branches from several different pine trees so as not to harm the trees and made a bed of them for her. Ellyssa laid a blanket over the matting and climbed between the folds. Wolf’s only concession to comfort was his own bed of pine boughs upon which he curled up with Ghost for warmth.

Despite her exhaustion, Ellyssa had a hard time falling asleep. She wondered what The Academy takeover of the school meant for those who depended on the home and education it provided. What did it mean for her? She finally fell asleep after deciding it did not matter. Nothing would stop her from reaching her goal, whatever it was.

Wolf woke her at least an hour before sunrise. He already had a pan of oatmeal boiled soft enough to eat. Ghost was nowhere to be seen. Even though he could be standing just a few yards away, his black coat made him invisible in the darkness, Ellyssa figured he was out finding his own breakfast.

The morning air was brisk and Ellyssa kept her blanket wrapped around her shoulders as she ate her breakfast. Her body felt as though she had slept on a bed of rocks instead of pine boughs. Her muscles protested with every movement and she felt like one giant bruise. Her battle with the Academy wizards had not left her feeling this exhausted and battered. She was now realizing how close she had come to letting the Source consume her.

One of the first things the magus students were taught was not to exceed their ability to channel the Source, or it could easily destroy them. The spell she had used was extremely advanced and far exceeded her experience and ability to cast safely. Even now, when she tried to touch the Source, it felt as if she was trying to tie her shoes with numb fingers.

“Do you think we will be able to find Sandy today?” Ellyssa asked, a little puff of fog giving a physical presence to each word.

“Probably. The real question is whether she will talk to us much less fly you close enough to Southport to walk there on your own.”

“You don’t think she will talk to us?”

Wolf shrugged. “Probably, even though she has gotten as moody and antisocial as you since we got back. The hard part will be getting her to stop destroying everything around her long enough to talk. She trains all day long, calling lightning, hurling boulders, and shredding everything she can get her claws on, including the boulders.”

“It really changed us all, didn’t it?”

“Do you mean the breaking or Azerick’s death?”

Ellyssa doodled in the dirt with small stick. “Both, I guess.”

“Yeah, it did,” Wolf said solemnly.

Ellyssa mentally staunched the tears that came unbidden to her eyes. “Does that mean they won? Are we truly broken then?”

“No,” Wolf side decisively, “they hurt us, they tortured us, and they certainly changed us, but they did not break us. We are all stronger now. Are we damaged? Maybe, depending on how you look at it, but the Vila and his ilk ultimately failed. We lost Azerick, and that loss can never be replaced, but we are the winners because we go on. We still fight. That is what Azerick always did no matter what. He said we can never lose as long as we still fight.”

“Do you think he’s still fighting, wherever he is now?” Ellyssa sniffled and wiped her nose with her sleeve.

Wolf’s face lit up in a huge grin. “Oh yeah. He’s still fighting, and I feel sorry for whoever gets in his way. Even the gods.”

CHAPTER 11

Fu’Marb skittered along the cavern passage ahead of Azerick as they negotiated the dark, twisting passages. The balrog spoke very little, which was fine with Azerick since he had little attention for anything except the aches radiating though his abused body.

Azerick kept a wary eye on the toad-like demon. Perhaps it was his general distrust of his kind, or simply years of dealing with people and creatures who meant him harm, but he could not shake the feeling there was something off about Fu’Marb. Azerick had long abandoned the concept of pure coincidence, and the demon’s sudden appearance was a big one.

He had already been the target of assassination once. Just because he killed his attempted killer did not eliminate the possibility of another, possibly several. There could be an entire movement collaborating for his overthrow. Fu’Marb had yet to do anything overt, even suspicious, but Azerick was intent on staying vigilant for any sign of treachery.

The Rook continued to look back at his target, but the sorcerer refused to drop his guard and never took any of the opportunities to take the lead the assassin presented. He was unsure if the human was suspicious of him or simply cautious. His failed attempt at killing him definitely made his task that much more difficult, but the Rook enjoyed a challenge. He possessed infinite patience, and time was the one thing he had plenty of as long as Drak’kar did not kill him first. Should that happen, the Rook would have no choice but to seek retribution against the demon lord. One did not steal the Rook’s kills.

“My Prince, you lag behind,” the Rook said. “Do you wish to rest?”

There was little else Azerick would like to do than to rest, but he needed to get back to his citadel to recover and prepare his last line of defense. “No, Fu’Marb, I am able to continue. Continue leading the way.”

“As you wish, My Prince.”

The passage was completely dark. Not a single mote of light found its way down the endless expanse of twisting blackness. Mile after mile, the pair trekked through the abyssal catacombs, following the twisting path like pieces of food through the digestive system of some massive beast. Azerick could not help but feel like exactly that, as if the abyss was one enormous creature that swallowed him whole.

“Fu’Marb, you said you saw me in the battle and followed me?” Azerick asked.

“Yes, My Prince.”

“How exactly did you manage that?” Azerick asked, knowing a flightless demon could never keep him in view while he was gating.

“With great difficulty and this.” The Rook tapped on his snout with a long finger. “I knew you headed for the Shattered Lands. Even so, I lost track many times. Then I heard the invader shouting and the sound of battle. Sound carries far in the rifts. Few can tell from whence a sound comes, but Fu’Marb can.”

It was a reasonable explanation, but Azerick was still wary. He could not shake the feeling Fu’Marb’s appearance was not purely happenstance. It seemed like an awful lot of initiative for a demon. One thing he learned in this place was never to drop his guard.

The human’s vigilance was frustrating and his questions reeked of suspicion. The Rook sensed the sorcerer accepted his explanation but was not entirely duped. He could still feel a tension between them, whether it was specifically directed at him or from a general distrust, he could not be sure. What he did know was that he was running out of time. His best chances for success were while he led him through these passages. Once outside, it would be nearly impossible for him to gain an advantage.

 “Ssshaaadowww brothhherrr.”

The Rook flinched inwardly when he felt something caress his pebbly skin and whisper in his ear. He looked back at the human, but he did not appear to have heard the breeze-like whisper.

“Murderrr isss in yourrr hearrrt. Youuu huuunt?”

The Rook lowered his voice as much as possible. “Yes.”

“Why doesss yourrr prey liiive?”

“He is powerful. I must time my kill perfectly or risk losing him again.”

“Yesss, we senssse hisss powerrr. Weee can help youuu, Ssshaaadowww brothhherrr. Eeembraccce the ssshaaadowsss.”

The Rook slowly began putting more distance between him and the sorcerer. He soon spotted a fork in the path ahead and a sharp turn. The Rook darted around the corner and wrapped himself in shadows so thick even demonic eyes could not easily pierce them.

“Fu’Marb, where are you?” Azerick called.

“Here, My Prince,” the Rook answered from around the bend. “We are getting near.”

Azerick made the turn and felt an icy pain stab through his chest. Azerick spun with a sharp gasp, a ball of fire clutched in his upturned palm, ready to unleash fiery death upon whatever was attacking him. Another icy slash cut him across his left calf. He spun around again and hurled his fire into the darkness.