Empire Awakening (Maledorian Chronicles Book 2) Page 14

  She had captured and tortured a cultist until he broke down and boasted of their aspirations to rule the world. He had said they were planning to march south when their army reached ten thousand constructs, an army unfathomably strong. The sorceress guessed they had four thousand already. Each one could likely defeat five to ten human soldiers, and the sorceress doubted the armies of Mar Thagroth numbered more than fifty-thousand souls.

  zShe had tried to gain access to the man’s knowledge regarding the creation of the constructs but to no avail. It was as if an impenetrable fortress protected that knowledge in his mind. Madam Lassengre had finally ended the man’s life and felt reassured there was one less maniac to wreak havoc on the world.

  What was worse was the discovery that the population of Criswall had been quickly decimated by the creation of the army. Each construct required a single human and a tree to create, though she surmised there was a third creature involved as well, such as a dog or a wolf or an insect.

  They started with the children, and they shunned the old and infirmed, as it seemed the spell required the fittest to succeed. Since most of the men had left to join the war, the majority of the constructs looked feminine, their skin smooth like polished wood and bone, their faces grim and cold.

  The sorceress had helped as many escape the city as she could, starting with those she knew and those who were acquainted with Lady Elendria and her friends. She had helped Tessa, the old baker, flee the city with a few others in the dead of night. Other earlier journeys she had aided students at the college in their escape, when she had first learned of the constructs. Over time, she helped any remaining noble families she could, the ones she knew were important to the preservation of the kingdom. But she could do nothing to help the king or the queen nor Prince Jondran’s parents. The cultists carefully guarded them.

  When the people of the city watched as the process unfolded, they either begged to join the cultists and the worship of Ba’al as priests, attempted flight from the city, or they took their own lives for fear of being used in such a fashion. The rumors had spread like wildfire. Even the pretense of rule under the king disappeared, and only the Duke of Wrainton and the boy remained as absolute rulers over Criswall.

  Now, the sorceress wondered if it was time for her to leave the city. But where would she go? South to join Arcturius and Prince Jondran or north to find Lady Elendria and try to convince the witches to join them in their struggle? She was inclined to go north and beg for help, but Arcturius had failed in winning over the witch Cambria and had not yet succeeded in allying with the Kingdom of Jalinfaer.

  She needed to go where she could best aid their cause. The reasons she had stayed so long was to assist getting people out of the city and to try to gain insights as to when the cultist army might march south to war. But now, it was time to act.

  The bells in Danton Square sounded, ringing twelve times. When she heard the final bell, she knew it was a rallying call for the cultists to assemble in the square. This rarely happened, and the sorceress figured there must be some announcement coming. She cast the spell of invisibility and went outside through the empty streets to the center of the city.

  Before she reached the square, she entered a two-story building, which she knew possessed a roof-top garden where she could watch without worry of inspection. Even being invisible didn’t sufficiently protect from magical sight, an ability she believed many of the cultists possessed.

  The building was empty. At the top, one glance over the edge showed the square filled with cultists dressed in red robes and the initiates and healers dressed in white. Remi, the Duke of Wrainton, Lord Rigar Orensal, and Lady Shallia Orensal stood atop a makeshift dais.

  The old duke raised his hand to quiet the crowd. Madam Lassengre sat behind the rooftop’s edge and hid. She couldn’t risk someone sensing her.

  “Followers of Ba’al rejoice!” the duke said, and many crazed cheers sounded. “Our army is complete.”

  Another louder roar and applause. Several in the crowd shouted for joy and shrieked in wild adulation. The old sorceress thought the expressions were too forced to be real. It seemed the audience was afraid of being singled-out for fear of not providing enough vehemence.

  “Our mission here is finished for the time being. We must march south to find more fodder for our army.” The duke’s voice sounded sadistic and cruel, making the sorceress regret she had ever aided him. She should have killed him when she had the chance.

  “We are done with this city. It offers little compared to the splendors and mysteries of the south, especially in Maren Downs, the old capital of the Maledorian Empire. The ancient power will rise once again, and this time, there will be no three heroes of the three kingdoms to stop us.”

  Madam Lassengre felt a sudden chill. The armies of Mar Thagroth would have a difficult time stopping the cultists and their constructs, especially being sandwiched in between two armies. And so far, only she and Arcturius were aligned against them. They would need to rally more support.

  The only hope for the world’s survival would be to fight to the death to prevent the secrets buried in Maren Downs from rising again. The Maledorians must never be allowed to come to power. But how would they win against them?

  The sorceress worried about what might be the right approach. The cultist army would likely leave tomorrow. She had little time to travel south ahead of them, rally support, and meet their army on the southern battlefields.

  She made a decision. The witches in the north could be warned in dreams, but she had to reach Arcturius and Prince Jondran ahead of the cultists and make sure they were fully prepared. And if at all possible, help secure an alliance with the Kingdom of Jalinfaer.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  A slow paralysis crept into Elendria’s heart. There were long, painful tendrils snaking into her body. She tried to gasp but discovered her lungs had seized up.

  Light bloomed in the forest as she went dizzy from the lack of air. The horses whinnied and wailed. She felt herself floating; she was being thrown from the mare. The movement was so slow and clear.

  In the fading light, others were being thrown or tumbled from their horses. The creatures’ faces were wild and panicked. She slammed against the pine needle bed and grunted in pain. Stars flowered in her vision as the air was expelled from her lungs. After tumbling across the ground, she gasped and greedily gulped in a breath, desperate to keep herself from passing out.

  But in the darkness, men shouted and moaned in agony. Her eyes only saw shifting shadows since the spell of light had ceased. She dared not try to cast the spell again, as it inevitably would invite the attention of the mist-wraiths.

  How could she fight them? Fire? Ice? What did one use against mist-wraiths? She felt terrifically underprepared to face the dangers out in the wild. Why had she so overestimated her ability to protect herself and her friends? Now, she couldn’t help but feel immature and stupid.

  She shuddered as a cold, malevolent presence hovered over her. It was a wet, sticky feeling. She forced herself to remain still and let it pass.

  At a man’s shout of alarm, the mist-wraith changed direction and left her. She wracked her brain, trying to think if the voice belonged to Devin or a miner. Should she stay here and keep herself safe or go try to help? The shouting was stronger now and more desperate. All she could think about were those empty, cavernous eyes sucking the life out of the woodsman.

  She was a fool, she knew it, but she couldn’t stop herself from sending out a magical orb of light. The forest was illuminated at once. After witnessing the carnage caused by the mist-wraiths, she regretted it immediately. Several of the entities were feeding on a screaming miner. She grimaced in disgust. The silvery substance of his soul was being sucked out of his body.

  To stop the feeding, she commanded the orb to whizz past the miner. The wraiths looked up and left the hysterical miner, floating off after the shiny prey. She allowed the orb to lodge in a tree trunk, and the wraiths were unable t
o tear themselves from the light. They feasted on it as if it were candy. Unfortunately, she felt them sucking away at her energy, despite the distance. She shuddered in disgust at the slimy feeling. More wraiths floated over to join them. She only hoped she could maintain the magic long enough to sustain the distraction.

  She cast another orb in a different direction and discovered Maggie and Tal lying sprawled and unconscious on the ground. After she snuck over to them, she felt their necks for a pulse and let out a sigh of relief. They were still alive, thank the gods.

  When a wraith turned toward her, she sent the light to intercept it. She pulsed the light in several blinding bursts, and the wraith changed direction to follow the orb. After a few moments, there were tens of mist-wraiths bunched up around both orbs of light, leaving her free to search the area for the others.

  Behind, a girl’s violent scream pierced the air. She spun around and chased after the source. As she was running, she summoned another orb to illuminate the dark forest. She spied Lysha on her back, kicking against a mist-wraith trying to consume her.

  She shot the orb at the mist-wraith and sent it spinning after the light.

  At that moment, Elendria realized how helpless they were out here in the northland, where wraiths and nether-creatures could prey on them so easily. The only defense she had was her magical shield and the spell of light.

  “Lysha?” She seized her friend’s shoulders and started to panic when she failed to recognize her. When she remained unresponsive, Elendria shook her hard to snap her out of it. Her eyes were wild and dilated, and no matter how hard she slapped her, Lysha only squirmed and screamed.

  Elendria dragged her friend to her feet and slung her arm over her shoulder. Thankfully, Lysha soon stumbled along and gave up no protest. To Elendria’s relief, Maggie and Tal were still unharmed and slumbering peacefully. Elendria attempted to rouse them but found them unresponsive. They only moaned and smacked their lips at her intervention. It was a useless effort, so she left Lysha with them and roamed over to where the last orb of light illuminated the darkness. Elendria believed Lysha must have cast a spell and led the mist-wraith away from the two.

  “Devin?” she whispered and snuck across the pine-needle floor. When the woodsman failed to respond, she stalked deeper into the dark forest and called his name again, louder this time.

  Only silence greeted her. “Shells?” She realized now that she needed her; she needed anyone who could help. But all she heard was the lonely sound of the wind whistling and whining through the branches above. If they were alive, she vowed to make a sacrifice to Nenlil, a proper one to provide a sweet fragrance of roasted meat to the god.

  She scrambled on, stopping at the sound of twigs snapping and feet padding through the forest. She twirled around and spotted Devin running from a pack of mist-wraiths. The man’s desperate eyes sent her a warning to flee.

  “Go!” he shouted, but she ignored his plea and instead sent the orb of golden light out into the mist-wraiths.

  They hissed and turned to face the brightness, eventually changing directions and chasing after the light. She guided the orb in the direction of the other wraith, and soon merged the two lights and released one in case she needed to summon more.

  By now, at least twenty mist-wraiths were circling the orbs, desperately trying to get at the light. Her power was weakening. She felt a warm fatigue falling over her mind, and realized the mist-wraiths were quickly siphoning her energy. The black stone pulsed with a persistent warning.

  “We need to get out of here—I’m losing strength,” she whispered and cast a wary eye at the angry flock of nether creatures. “I don’t think I can hold it much longer. Where are the horses?”

  “Gone.” Devin stared at the mist-wraiths, a look of irritation and despair playing on his face. “They fled the moment we were under attack.”

  “Do you remember where the path was? Maybe we can find the horses. And Shells?”

  The woodsman shook his head slowly, a vacant sadness forming in his eyes. “I was knocked out. When I woke, those… things were over me, feasting on me.” He shivered. “I kept running until I discovered your light. So many men dying or dead from those creatures. I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

  “Don’t give up hope. We have to find the others.” She pointed toward where she remembered the miner had fallen. “Over there.”

  Devin gave a resigned nod and glanced at the others scattered on the ground. “What are we going to do with them? They don’t look in any condition to travel. Why don’t we just leave them?”

  “No! I gave my word I would protect them. Hurry up and wake them. I know, if we stay here, we’ll die. Can you help me or not?”

  “Okay, okay! I’ll do what I can.” Devin bent down next to Maggie and placed a palm on her forehead. “I’m no healer, but I’ve seen this before. The victim takes days if not weeks to wake from the effect. Usually, herbs or a spell are needed to break the dark enchantment. Likely, the touch of those nether creatures caused a kind of cursed sleep. Have you learned any spells of healing?”

  She shook her head and released a heavy sigh. If only she’d persuaded Madam Lassengre to teach her more spells. The spell of protection had helped, but it had failed in providing anything useful in assisting her friends.

  Devin pulled back Maggie’s eyelids, but the girl remained locked in a deep trance. Elendria summoned a powerful, brilliant orb and commanded it to hover over the three sleeping figures. Not one of them responded to the light. She released the light and focused her attention on Lysha, realizing she was caught in a nightmare. Her arms and legs twitched as if she was fighting something.

  The memory of the inn at Damak came to her, and she recalled the vision she had of waking Lysha from her dream. Would it work again? Perhaps, if she could find her…

  “I’m going to try something.” She cast a nervous glance at Devin. “But it might be dangerous. You have to wake me if the mist-wraiths come. I doubt I can keep the spell of light working while I try to wake Lysha.” She stared past Devin where the wraiths were bunched up in a hungry feeding frenzy. Both the spell of protection and the orbs of light were slowly eating away at her power. She prayed her idea would work.

  In a burst of power, she pushed the ball of light far away and higher into the trees. The wraiths gave chase. When the light was only a small, faint glimmer in the trees, she released the spell and shot a condensed ball of fire at the wraiths. The fireball roared through the branches in a loud whoosh, crackling and hissing as the cinders ignited the trees in a mad rush. She hoped the inferno would distract the nether creatures long enough for her to wake Lysha.

  “Are you trying to burn down the forest?” Devin said, eyes incredulous. “There are ancient, wicked things sleeping here in the grove, creatures better left alone.”

  “Do you have any other idea? We need to get those things away from us.” She gave him an irritated scoff and returned to Lysha. “Promise me you’ll only wake me if we’re in grave danger.”

  Devin grunted in agreement, and Elendria lay down next to Lysha and closed her eyes, trying to block the distant sounds of the burning branches. Soon, she slowed her breathing and faded away into a vision filled with the ghastly faces of the wraiths. She pushed them aside and focused her mind on finding Lysha like she did in Damak.

  The vision darkened and changed to a cold, desolate forest laced with snow. Ahead through the trees, she spotted Lysha in a white lace dress running from a pack of gray wolves, their hackles up as they raced along.

  Elendria shouted her name, and the wolves came to a skidding stop. They turned and stared at her with red, hungry eyes. But she felt no fear and instead commanded them to sleep. They whimpered and crouched low, laying their furry heads against the white snow.

  “Lysha!” she shouted and filled her words with strength. “You must wake, Lysha; wake from the dream. It isn’t real. The dream isn’t real.”

  Lysha twisted around and studied her as if searching
for some fragment of familiarity. Elendria gave her an urgent nod, her expression pleading. She raised her hands to Lysha, and after a long, uncertain moment, her friend came to her, eyes desperate and confused.

  “You must wake,” Elendria repeated, and she took her cold hands in hers.

  Lysha finally obeyed and faded from sight. But Elendria didn’t follow her out of the dream and instead fixed her attention on the lonely forest and continued searching for the others. She drifted and scoured the dimly lit woods until she found Maggie and Tal clinging to each other as they faced a vicious white bear. Its muzzle was bloody, and bits of flesh dangled from the creature’s dagger-like teeth. The beast was easily twice as big as Tal, with a shimmering fur coat and a menacing rage in its eyes. Maggie screamed as the bear leaned in for the kill.

  Elendria clapped her hands together in a quick rush, and a blinding bolt of lightning ripped into the bear, igniting the beast in a blaze of fire and smoke. The intense, bitter smell of roasted flesh filled the air, and she darted around the burning animal and pulled Maggie and Tal away.

  “Wake up!” she shouted and shook their hands vigorously and repeated the words until their eyes focused on her.

  They soon slowly disappeared from the dream.

  She sighed in relief. She’d done it. Somehow, she managed to pull them above the churning sea of consciousness. She followed them out and left the vision, back to waking life, where her friends were coughing and gasping for air. Their alarmed eyes scanned the dark forest, lit only by the luminescent mushrooms and moonlight streaming in through the branches above.

  In a cold fright, Elendria realized her magic was gone. Some sixth sense inside felt that a multitude of mist-wraiths was drifting toward them. She rose and helped her friends to their feet and found Devin by her side supporting her. Many pairs of ghastly eyes lit by a kind of phosphorescence came into view.