Hidden Power (13 page)

They were munching on a field of daisies at the moment, their venomous drool turning the ground wet and mushy between great tearing bites of earth and grass and petals.

Their eyes glowed red, their wet nostrils flared steam and Iragos knew they could be borne of only one dark and ruthless mage: Kronos. Their dark features and violent intent made it clear that he alone had summoned them, for all minions carried a part of their master away with them.

Bored with the sight of the massive minions feasting, Iragos flapped his gossamer wings and took to the blue sky over the planet below, winging past the bulging, spiked steeds as he circled them carefully, wary but not overly so of the massive, if dumb, beasts.

They paid him little mind as he soared high above, using the Stinger’s advanced metabolism to propel himself farther and farther every day. He had been traveling too long without sign or sensation of the Orb, and yet he knew if Kronos was dispatching such horrible minions, it had to be in search of the powerful crystal.

He knew, too, that the powerful dark mage was not in pursuit of merely the orb, but whoever had it as well. Iragos desperately needed to find Kayne and the mortal, Aurora, before Kronos did. He’d seen squire tracks throughout the woods, half-prints due to the magical properties of those in possession of enchantment. 

True mages seemed to be floating above the earth, or even hovering. Squires had some of these properties, a lightness of foot, a distancing from the ground Below. As a Stinger, Iragos had noticed the half-tracks from high above, buzzing down to inspect them.

There, next to a mortal’s tracks, the half-tracks moved in an ever westward direction. Even the mortal’s tracks were soft and light, making Iragos think it could be the girl who’d arrived in Ythulia. He’d lost the tracks in a mud bog, but that didn’t stop him from pushing on and watching the ground more closely.

His magic was strong, but not all-powerful. 

If he could have seen through time, he would have. If he could have somehow melded his mind with Kayne’s, he might have. Instead he had but those powers he possessed, and while significant, they were not omniscient enough to find Kayne and Aurora out of thin air. Like Kronos himself, Iragos would have to track them through the land Below. 

He would have smiled to himself, if the Stinger had lips, as he winged back and forth in advance of Kronos’ minions. He would have to find the youngsters and the orb, the old-fashioned way: on a wing and a prayer.

Still, he couldn’t give up. With Kronos on the hunt, Iragos alone was left to stop the powerful dark mage from growing all-powerful with possession of the Orb of Ythra. 

Its powers were untold, for only a few had ever wielded it – and with good reason: those who had possessed the orb had gone mad with power and greed, destroying entire races, even planets, in their madness and single-minded ambition to control all they desired.

In fact, the Council of Bright Orders had formed solely to seize the Orb, keep it protected and safe from that type of power-mad mage. Iragos had always known Kronos was dangerous, but had assumed keeping him close on Ythulia would prove precaution enough. Instead, Kronos had forced his poor squire to steal the powerful Orb and unleash it on the poor, unsuspecting people of Synurgus. 

Now Iragos was a hunter, scouring the world far Below Ythulia for the frightened squire and his mortal friend, Aurora, trying to outwit the darkest of mages and do so in the form of a measly, mortal insect.

But Iragos was no fool, for he knew all too well that the smallest in life were often the most powerful of all. He knew not what shape or form Kronos had turned himself into in his pursuit of Kayne and Aurora, but had no doubt that it was massive, giant and aimed at covering as much ground as possible in search of the Orb.

Iragos was pledged to do the same, but focused his power inward. In the Stinger’s body, he could be anywhere and neither heard nor seen. He was as fast as a hawk but flew low to the ground, blending with the planet’s plants and flowers to hide or propel himself further, faster, in times of exploration or danger.

And so Iragos flew, high and low, low and high, in search of the orb and those who possessed it. He felt small but knew if he was going to find two wandering teenagers on a strange planet, he must stay low to the ground and be ready for anything.

As a Stinger, he was both!

Aurora poured fresh spring water on the glowing red embers of the morning fire and watched them sizzle to a faded, harmless gray. Sitting on a mossy rock, Kayne licked his greasy fingers after another morning of fresh Grass Rodent. 

His fair skin was ruddy and tan now from three days of straight hiking through the woods that surrounded Balrog on the way to the fabled land of Morgis. His rustic clothes looked lived-in and stitched to his body. They’d found a spring to bathe in the day before, and now his hair hung, soft and clean against his shoulders. 

He wiped the grease along his pants legs and stood, helping without being asked to break down the camp. There was little work involved, and yet it was a vast improvement over the way they’d begun their journey: him acting entitled and expecting her to guide him, hunt for him and carry his ridiculous orb.

As she drew the strings tight on her pack he reached for it. “I know it’s heavy,” he said, almost shyly. “Let me carry it today.”

Aurora rubbed one shoulder absently and asked, uncertainly, “You sure?”

He grinned and slid the pack on his back. “I’m sure. Besides, you’ll need your energy for hunting dinner.”

She snorted as they fell into step, clinging tightly to the bushes and the shrubs, the shadows and the hollows as they headed inexorably west toward the Land of the Oracles. 

“You know,” she said, “it wouldn’t hurt you to learn how to hunt, too, Kayne. More hands make the load lighter.”

He gripped the walking stick she’d carved for him by the fire the night before and eased it to the ground with another step. “What fun would that be?” he chuckled as he avoided a low-lying branch. “The only good part of this trip is being brought breakfast in bed by my tour guide!”

Aurora raised her own wooden stick to gently bend the young branch out of the way and said, “Well, it might not be fun, exactly, but it
could
prepare you for life. That’s why Dad taught me.”

The thought of her father and mother, hiding out in some dark inn room, shuddering behind the curtains without any idea why, silenced her for a moment. 

A cloud passed Kayne’s face and she thought she knew why. Aurora asked, “Do you miss…
your
parents?”

He looked at her, full on, before dipping his eyes to avoid her own. “I do. I haven’t seen them in years.”

“They can’t visit Mage City?”

He shook his head. “They couldn’t see it if they could,” he reminded her, regarding her more closely. “And I’ve been in Ythulia so long, I’m not sure what we’d say to each other if I could somehow visit them.”

“And your life? Once you become a mage, that is? Will you have more freedom then?”

Kayne shrugged, kicking at the ground beneath his feet forlornly. “Perhaps, but between squire hood and my apprenticeship, it could be decades before I’m given that freedom.”

She shook her head. She’d always wondered what it might be like to practice magic or leave the ranch, but suddenly the family farm was sounding better and better.

“So, what made you want to become a squire then?”

He chuckled, snapping a vibrant red leaf of a Warming glow tree with his free hand. “I was like you, back then. I wanted to believe in magic, but had never seen any evidence of it. We all whispered of mages and Mage City the way children do, but never actually believed any of it. Then one day, on the playground during free time at my place of learning, a ball got stuck in a tree…”

He looked at her skeptically then, his clean hair falling like a Growler’s mane around his handsome, chiseled face. “I volunteered to retrieve it, and climbed up the tree. But it was too high, several branches away, and I got scared.” 

He paused to watch her eyes and she blinked them, softly, encouraging. He smiled and continued: “In my fear, I held my hands out to reach for it and, like magic, the ball came to me. I scuttled down, thinking no one had seen. But someone did, and told my Instructor. They told the Headmaster and, well, there must be protocol for that kind of thing. The next morning Kronos was waiting for me in the head office. He took me to an empty learning room and gave me a series of tests. I must have passed because that day I left school.”

“Just like that?” she asked.

He nodded, looking away. 

“Did you get to go home and see your family?” Aurora realized she had slowed her pace out of concern for Kayne’s fragile emotions. 

“Only because I cried and screamed and begged Kronos to let me,” he admitted, adding, “I was younger then.”

“Did you have a choice?” she asked. “I mean, about going to Mage City?”

He paused near a tree, leaning against it to crouch and tighten his laces. “I never asked anybody but, I don’t think so…”

His voice trailed off as she began to speak. He held up a finger, rising slowly from lacing his shoe and inching toward her. “Did you hear that?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I thought I heard—”

Suddenly the forest erupted in an explosion of sounds, young saplings crackling under pressure and leaves flying through the air. A noxious smell joined the chaos as Aurora grabbed Kayne’s sleeve. 

“Run!” she said, for no reason at all other than something – or several somethings – had to be making that kind of commotion and none of them were good.

They ran, not straight, for Aurora was too smart for that, but side to side. A horrible snorting followed them, a familiar sound but when Aurora turned, she saw only more trees exploding and leaves flying through the air.

“Here,” she said, yanking him behind a large rock formation that loomed to the right. They stopped, both breathing heavily, listening closely. Aurora pressed him back further, inching out to peer behind them.

That’s when she saw it: a massive beast, red eyed and snoutish, with rich black fur and spines sticking out of its skull and all along its spine. Black, cracked hooves beat the ground and steam blew from its dripping nostrils as it bore down on them.

It looked like a Bleater, but one that had been cursed, pulled apart, put back together and blown all out of proportion in the process. Her heart pounding, she looked frantically for an escape route. Looking up, she saw one at last!

“Climb,” she said, dragging him up to a higher rock, then another, until he was by her side and racing to the top of the small formation. “Hurry, Kayne,” she hissed, dragging him as high as they could go without tumbling back down to the earth.

At last they stood, clinging to one another, looking down at the giant Bleater as it stamped its cracked, bleeding paw and snorted up at them in frustration. It let out a horrible yowl, steam and spittle flying forth from between yellow, cracked teeth and a blistered tongue.

“What is it?” asked Kayne, inching away from the edge of the tiny outcropping. They were but a few yards away from the screaming Bleater. Just enough to be out of danger for now, but also trapped. There were no nearby trees or branches to jump into, and the only way out of this mess was down.

“I don’t know,” she confessed, joining him away from the sharp edge of the uppermost rock. “But we had animals on the farm like these. They’re called Bleaters, on account of the sound they make.” The beast roared again, the forest beyond exploding in more tree carnage even as it did so. 

“That doesn’t sound like ‘bleating’ to me,” he stammered. “More like screaming!”

She shook her head, eyes growing wide as another, then two more, of the giant, blistered, black Bleaters joined the first, half-a-dozen of them steaming and spitting and bumping into one another as their cracked paws clattered on the first rock, trying to climb up.

“They can’t get up here, can they?” Kayne asked.

“How should I know?” she snapped, turning to him. “I’m not an expert on—”

“Minions!” he shouted, staring down at the howling beasts. “These must be Minions, created by Kronos to hunt us down and retrieve the Orb of Ythra.”

“But how?” she asked.

“Mages can’t create life, they can only alter it. They… they can take the shape of something, but only something that exists in our world. They can make minions, but only of creatures that are already alive. You say you had beasts like this on the farm. Maybe… maybe Kronos thought it would be funny to turn your farm beasts into monsters to hunt us down. Think of the irony.”

“Hilarious!” she shouted, shoving him out of frustration. The minions were squealing now, voices high-pitched and almost painful to listen to. 

“We can’t stay here,” he said, pushing her aside and raising his hands. “We must get down and flee. What… what if Kronos is close behind? His minions may be fooled by us climbing out of the way, but I assure you my master will not!”

She couldn’t answer as she watched a small glow form in his palm, much like the other night when he’d tried to start a fire. It fizzled and soured, rose and then fell again.

“Curses,” he snapped, sweat dripping from his forehead. Still, he was intent on doing something, anything, to free them from their peril. The ball glowed, forming a small circle as little fingers of power fused together, crackling with each movement. She looked from it to the mewling animals fighting each other beneath them, twice as big as any steed she’d ever seen, and frowned.

“Here,” she said, grabbing his hand. “Let me try—”

Suddenly the ball doubled in size, glowing and glistening and sparking as it levitated just above Kayne’s palm, growing in power with every rotation. 

“How… how do you
do
that?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she hissed, breathing heavy. “But, now that I’ve done it, what do we
do
with it?”

The ball glowed a whitish-blue until Kayne whispered something and, with a whoosh, it flew from his hand to the nearest giant Bleater. The beast howled as the crackling sphere pierced its hide, cracking ribs and burning vital organs as it burst out the other side, landing blackened and bloodied and harmless on the ground.