How to Bond a Mage (Heir of Dragons Book 3) Page 8

  “Why have we been shown this?” continued Kaleb.

  Minx looked once more to the columns of black smoke on the horizon. “I'm not certain... but I have a terrible feeling about it.” She locked eyes with him. “We're in trouble, Kaleb. Things are about to get bad. I can feel it.”

  Chapter 15

  Once the two of them had fully regained their senses, the trip to Pandling Grounds was a brief one. What they found there upon their arrival was far and away more terrifying than what they had initially expected. The weather was rapidly souring, and a great storm was peppering the far-off plains with bolts of sizzling lightning.

  As expected, a tremendous battle was being waged, with Torrent's forces pressing in on the exterior of Pandling Grounds. Even then the shields continued to insulate the area, though the scene just beyond their protective reach was a startling one. The very land beyond the boundaries of Fae territory was beginning to degrade. Plant and animal life was being choked of its essence, leaving once-lush fields mere tracts of depleted soil that reeked of decay. Nefarious spell-casters had taken to the front-lines, and were mounting a continuous magical attack on the barrier that Minx and Kaleb had worked so hard to erect.

  Like the lake, the land outside of Pandling Grounds was being poisoned. Torrent and his army brought this pestilence with them wherever they went, and Minx knew that if they were unsuccessful in defeating the enemy once and for all, the whole of Aleio would be reduced to this tainted state.

  Where earlier the shielding spell had protected the still-ruined Trading Center from further attack and some small efforts had been made towards reconstruction, the two of them were dismayed to find the area now crawling with uninvited guests. Wuffs and Plurn roamed in large packs, intimidating the scattered Fae defenders and routinely overwhelming them. Bloodthirsty Wuffs, their fur matted with equal parts mud and gore, stormed the Trading Center and lashed out at retreating Fae mercilessly. For days, they'd been held at bay by the magical barrier; now, having found a way through, they sought to expend all of their pent-up rage by butchering the citizenry.

  “How have they gotten this far?” asked Kaleb, starting into the fray with balled fists. “The shield should be keeping them out!”

  “Torrent's found a way through,” replied Minx. She nocked an arrow and followed him, her eyes scanning the area in search of her first mark. “This is a recent development; up till today the shield had done a fine job warding them off. I don't know how he did it, but Torrent has succeeded in breaking through. And if we don't drive them from this spot, it's possible the rest of the territory will fall to him in short order.”

  “OK, so the first order of business is to retake the Trading Center.” Kaleb cracked his knuckles and sized up an incoming Krah who came sprinting out from behind a mass of rubble. “You know, it's a shame those dragons by the lake are all feeling under the weather. This would have been a lot easier with their help.”

  Minx studied the hordes silently, counting heads and making sure she had enough arrows in her quiver for each of them. Help from the dragons would have been more than welcome at the moment; for that matter, she would have liked Mau, even Alla, at her side. That's how bad things are, she thought with a semi-disgusted smile. Things are so out of hand you wouldn't mind fighting alongside Alla, of all people!

  The arrows began to fly. Minx unloaded, laying down a succession of tightly-aimed volleys that stopped an entire line of Wuffs in their tracks. Those that avoided being hit were knocked from their bloodlust and forced to dive for cover. The Trading Center had been so badly damaged in recent days that there was no shortage of hiding spots. Buildings had collapsed, leaving behind small mountains of rubble. Impacts and explosions had left the area riddled with craters, which not only made the sprawling square a nightmare to quickly traverse, but gave crafty marauders extra places to seek shelter. Moreover, some of the newly-repaired structures had been set on fire, and the smoke formed a veil over the battlefield. The smoke rising from those constructions was the same that had first caught Minx's eye from afar.

  With the way ahead cleared by Minx's reliable cover fire, Kaleb strolled into the square and bashed the sprinting Krah across the chin. The lizard-man lost control of the broadsword in his grasp and crumpled with a whimper. Though the horde of dark warriors possessed the numerical advantage many times over, the rushing throngs knew they lacked the power to conquer Kaleb one-on-one. What's more, the steady flow of arrows coming from the Fae huntress made it impossible for them to rush the dragon shifter in concert. The dark warriors had come looking for an easy fight; they had never expected to encounter such solid resistance as this. Outclassed, they began falling back almost immediately.

  “Oh, is that it?” taunted Kaleb, stretching. “We were just getting warmed up!”

  Minx picked off a few more who attempted to sneak past the pair, dropping them neatly. She was ready to gloat right along with him, but stopped short when another figure appeared in her periphery. Instinctively, she nocked a fresh arrow and waited for the target to wander into range. She judged his stride carefully, only unloading when she knew the wind was on her side. The arrow sped silently across the square, honing in on the dark warrior with almost magnetic accuracy.

  But before she could celebrate or put away her bow, she noticed her shot had inexplicably missed its mark. This particular target, a slender figure clothed in a dark cloak, had plucked the arrow out of the air before it could find a home in his chest, and carried it with him now as a souvenir. The hand that held it was covered in brilliant, emerald scales.

  Her arms went weak. She'd drawn a second arrow from her quiver, but accidentally dropped it as she studied the target with wide eyes. “Kaleb,” she uttered, heart skipping in her chest. “That's... that's—”

  The dragon shifter stiffened, his fiery eyes tracking the figure's every movement. “It's Torrent,” he interrupted. “The man himself...”

  For a moment, Kaleb and Minx had considered themselves proper heroes. Their celebrations had been premature, however—and like the Wuffs and Plurn they'd driven off only moments ago, they now stood before an enemy they could not hope to overpower. Out of the pan and into the fire... she thought to herself.

  Retreat was not an option, of course. No matter their fear at facing off against the Dark Mage, they couldn't let him wander into Fae territory unchecked. They would have no choice but to fight.

  Torrent arrived within several yards of them and came to a sudden halt. He tossed Minx's arrow onto the ground nonchalantly, his dark gaze dissecting the two of them from beneath the border of his hood. “These lands have a new master, now,” he began, his deep voice possessing an almost playful edge. He sounded most pleased with himself. “Go on, declare your allegiance to me.” He motioned to one of his black leather boots, inviting them to kiss its sole. “Why not surrender to your new king? You could carry me into Pan on your shoulders.”

  Minx didn't offer a clever retort, only another arrow. She let a blistering shot fly, aiming at his hooded head. Like the last however, this one missed its mark. The Dark Mage raised one of his scaly hands and knocked the arrow from its course. It arced away from him as if guided by an unseen gale.

  Torrent sighed, sparing the Fae huntress a withering gaze. “I expected as much. This bloodshed is a terrible waste, but if you insist on disobeying I will guide you to a well-deserved grave.”

  Before the Dark Mage could make good on his promise, Kaleb spoke up. “He doesn't know what we have, Minx.” He spared her a glance in his periphery, grinning. His hand moved to the water skin they'd filled at Gloirs Mountain—the one containing pure water from the hidden spring. The spectral dragon had alluded to the possibility of its being useful against Torrent and his dark magic. “You're awfully smug, you know that? Let's see how you feel after a bit of this!” Kaleb wrenched the plug from the water skin and slung it upward, sending its contents spilling out in a shimmering wave.

  Yes! thought Minx, watching as the spring water dampened
Torrent's face and cloak. If this disables his magic, the battle will be over! He won't know what hit him!

  Water trickled out of the vessel as Kaleb lowered it to his side, chuckling. “Not so tough now, are you?”

  Torrent brought a hand to his face, pawing away the drops with a grimace. He said nothing, but when he opened his eyes again they flared not with pain or terror, but annoyance. “Some manners...” he muttered.

  The spring water didn't do anything... Minx withered, taking a step backward.

  Kaleb, too, saw the smile wiped from his face. He'd been counting on the spring water to be a secret weapon; in actuality, it had only riled up the enemy.

  The two of them had no aces up their sleeves, no gimmicks left to fall back on.

  And the Dark Mage was done talking.

  Chapter 16

  They were in the thick of it, now.

  The very air surrounding Torrent began to churn, and his first strike coincided with a bolt of lightning crackling overhead. He raised his hands and summoned a terrible wind, pushing both Minx and Kaleb backward. Minx had been nervously nocking a third arrow and Kaleb, having dropped the water skin, had been winding up to begin a melee. Both were thwarted, sent reeling by a blistering gust. The scent of rain was momentarily eclipsed by the stench of sulfur and they felt their skin sizzle as the hot air rushed past them.

  Kaleb, quickly regaining his footing, leaned forward and began sprinting at Torrent, a savage roar flying from his lips. In answer to this, the Dark Mage brought down one of his fists, still aloft, and struck the ground. Before Kaleb could lay hands on him—before he had even achieved full speed—the stone under his feet began to quake and knocked him off balance. A long crack formed in the battered square, leading a shallow gulf to form between the two halves. Kaleb stumbled into it clumsily, completely taken off-guard by the attack.

  Minx could hardly raise her weapon as she watched. What good will it do? I can't beat him with only a bow. With no better alternatives, she allowed muscle memory to take over and leaned into what she knew best. Teeth grit, she raised an arrow and sent it flying at him. Even if it was doomed to fail, she felt it was a better option than standing by in terror.

  It never hit its intended mark. Instead, Torrent used it to his own ends. He stood upright and waved at the oncoming arrow gently, batting it aside so that its trajectory changed. Kaleb, who barely managed to hobble out of the wide crack in the square, was nearly struck by the arrow. It ricocheted off his faulds with a tinny crash.

  She thought better of firing another.

  Enraged, Kaleb once again began rushing toward the Dark Mage—but this time, he took to the air, leaping at him. Rearing back, he threw as hard a punch as his body could muster, propelling his fist into Torrent like a hammer. Minx winced as she watched; that anyone should be struck by such a blow and survive was inconceivable. She averted her eyes, not wishing to witness the impending violence.

  But this blow, too, failed to land. However unstoppable a force Kaleb may have represented, he met in Torrent's magic an immovable object. The punch came within inches of connecting, but the Dark Mage had succeeded in raising an invisible barrier that not only took the blow, but ate up all of the dragon shifter's momentum. Meeting this magical wall, Kaleb found himself vulnerable.

  Torrent then reached out and delivered a punch of his own. It was not nearly so dramatic a movement—the balling of his green fist and the arc of his slender arm were quick and efficient. The effect, however, was spectacular. Kaleb was struck in the center of gravity and sent reeling through the air. He cried out in pain as he hit the ground and rolled off like a rag doll. Minx ran to meet him, kneeling by his side as he finally stopped skidding against the stone. He struggled to get up, a gash on his brow leaving fresh blood trickling down his face.

  “We can't do this,” warned Minx, taking one of his arms and hauling him up. “Kaleb, we need to run.”

  The dragon shifter shook his head in an effort to clear it and re-center his vision. “You wanna run? Are you serious?”

  Torrent hadn't moved, had no interest in pursuing. He knew the two of them would return for another walloping soon enough, and was content to dispatch them as they came. When they'd finally given him their all to no avail, he'd unceremoniously cut them down—but not until they'd reached the heights of futility and despair.

  She tugged on Kaleb's arm and dragged him back, away from Torrent. “We have to! We don't have a choice! We'll die at this rate!”

  Torrent wasn't the only one they had to worry about just then.

  Noting their total defeat at Torrent's hands, the Wuffs and Plurn began once more to rear their heads. They approached the battle with new gusto, energized at having seen Kaleb and Minx so thoroughly punished by their master. The hordes, eager to take advantage of the situation and seek revenge, brandished their weapons.

  “Come on,” she pleaded, yanking him backward. “We have to run. They're all coming for us now. We can't win this.” When he resisted, she stepped in front of him and stared him in the eye. “We need to get out of here, I'm telling you! We can fight him another time, when we find out how best to beat him. But please... let's run to Pan. It's not so far, and the shields will hopefully keep them at bay for awhile.”

  Kaleb had been hankering for a rematch with the Dark Mage, but now that he had one he remembered just how hopeless a thing it was. He couldn't beat Torrent—not alone. He swallowed his wounded pride and reluctantly agreed. “All right, lead the way.”

  The pair took off running. They ran as hard as they could, fearful that Torrent might work some powerful magic and drag them back. Sprinting through the ruined Trading Center and seeking the entrance to Pan, they soon realized that the Dark Mage was not giving chase. They lost sight of him not long into their flight—though his warriors proved persistent.

  A rain of Wuff arrows fell upon them from behind. Minx swerved carefully to avoid them and dove behind a toppled remnant of the Trading Center walls. Kaleb, keeping his head low, narrowly avoided taking an arrow to the skull, and absorbed several others with his plate armor. A contingent of Plurn armed with broadswords raced toward them, snarling. These warriors did not pose too great a threat on their own—had the two of them wished to destroy them, they could have done so swiftly.

  But wasting time with the small fry would give Torrent an opportunity to catch up to them.

  And that was something that they couldn't risk.

  Chased out of the Trading Center, Minx and Kaleb barreled across the fields and toward the woods marking the outermost edge of Pan. “Almost there!” declared Minx, legs burning for their maniac pace.

  From Kaleb's flank, another threat suddenly arose.

  A handful of heavily-armed Krah had been patrolling the area, and sighted the two of them fleeing. Encouraged by the friendlies that were driving Kaleb and Minx toward Pan—and being the only race who could still pass through the magical barrier around the tree city—they, too, gave chase, raising their battle axes and loosing harsh, reptilian battle cries.

  “Soon enough, we're going to have the entire dark army following us!” growled Kaleb. He kept just a few paces behind Minx so that he might intercept any arrows or speedy attackers before they had a chance to overcome her. “It's just beyond those trees, right?”

  “Yes!” replied Minx. “Not much further now!”

  The hissing of the Krah to their backs motivated them to give it their all; groaning for the strain, the two of them bolted straight for the treeline, slipping in between the trunks and crossing the threshold. They found themselves within the tree city of the Fae, out of breath and unsteady on their feet. A handful of Fae warriors were stationed nearby, armed and waiting for invaders. “Hey, are you two all right?” asked one of the swordsmen, starting toward them.

  The roar of the Krah as they, too, breached the border was deafening.

  Five Krah, outfitted in silver armor and carrying heavy axes, homed in on Minx, their spittle-thick tongues hanging out of th
eir mouths and their weapons thirsty for blood.

  She struggled to prepare her bow, staggering backward. With her back to a tree, she reached for an arrow—but before she could draw it from her quiver, the surrounding Fae warriors stepped in. A few archers had been stationed in the treetops to act as snipers, and they laid down heavy fire. Those Krah who survived the wave of arrows were cut down by Fae swordsmen. Kaleb, who'd been so out of breath and dazed upon their arrival as to sit on the ground, hadn't even had to rise.

  “N-Nice job,” stammered Minx as the last of the Krah fell. “We appreciate it.”

  “They were following you, huh?” said one of the archers from above. “Those Krah are a real headache. Unlike the rest, they make it through the shielding spell. Dunno why. Glad you two are all right, though. If anyone else comes through that barrier, we'll fend them off!”

  Minx looked to Kaleb sorrowfully.

  The one who'd really been pursuing them would be far too strong for this smattering of warriors to defeat, and both of them knew it.

  “He's too strong,” began Minx, looking through the trees into the distance. “We won't beat him—not without a plan.”

  Kaleb, gaining his feet and leaning against a tree, conceded as much. “Yeah. If we don't play smarter, it's over. A death sentence.”

  Chapter 17

  It was hard to relax knowing that Torrent was just outside the door.

  The Dark Mage hadn't yet breached the barrier protecting Pan, but that he would do so in due time was never in doubt. Precisely how long that would take, and whether they would be able to prepare for his arrival within that window, remained to be seen. They had talked a good deal about the necessity of a “plan”, but the actual devising of such a thing was proving to be profoundly difficult.