Hidden Power (17 page)

Appeal to your charms…”

Now the glow was a little brighter.

“Morgis we seek…”

It sounded like a spell.

 “Listen to the words I speak…”

Now, his hands glowed brighter still. 

“What’s with your boyfriend?” Lutheran grunted as another Hooter flew closer, so close they could see the rabid red-yellow of its wagon wheel sized eyes. 

“I mean, shouldn’t you two be holding hands and spitting out power balls by now or something??!”

Aurora was too scared at the moment to be insulted, or amused. Instead she merely nodded, nervously inching toward Kayne, whose back was still facing them. And the giant, winged, circling, approaching Hooters that threatened them from behind.

Aurora stood her ground, shoulder to shoulder with Lutheran, their walking sticks their only protection now. Without Kayne’s touch, all she had was her mortality, her flesh and blood, skin and bone. 

She had no idea what Kayne was doing, or why he was doing it at that very moment, exactly. But she had learned to trust him over their travels and she had to believe he thought whatever he was doing was for the best. 

Then, a thought struck her: maybe she could have power on her own? Maybe she was enchanted? At least, enchanted enough to cast a spell, or a little flicker of fire, that would help save their lives?

She tried, with all her might, to summon a spark of power, a hint of white light, even so much as a flicker, with her own bare hands. Nothing happened, not even close. 

Instead the air grew chill and windy with the beating of the Hooters wings as they circled dangerously close to their severe mountain ledge. And then, the inevitable happened as they shifted their tactics, from an air to a ground assault.

They landed, one by one, in a great giant “whoosh” of wind and feathers and leaves and branches and the humid, warm stench of their vile Hooter breath. 

They encircled the cloistered clearing, giant talons clinging to the sheer cliff walls as they beat their wings to steady themselves, fighting with their own kind for purchase on the tiny rock outcropping. 

The wind rose, saplings cracked and toppled and Lutheran clung to her, if only to steady them both and prepare for the worst. It was like standing in the path of a great and violent storm, with the crashing of leaves and twigs instead of rain.

Up close, the Hooters were rabid and depraved creatures, with giant sores oozing from between their matted feathers. Where they weren’t an ugly yellow, their eyes were a violent and bloody red, their massive wings scaly and cracked like their giant, sharp beaks.

A ghastly smell, inhuman and tinged with the scent of death, wafted from their leathery hides with the beating of each wing, forcing Lutheran and Aurora back if only to keep from retching and losing what little dinner they’d had the night before.

One inched farther forward than the rest, finding level ground beneath its claws, wings at its side, beak low and snapping like the clap of thunder and lightning combined. 

Aurora and Lutheran fought it back as best they could, shouting and shoving their walking sticks in its face, but it was a pitiful effort–and they both knew it. 

So did the massive, evil birds. 

The Hooter merely opened its beak and snapped, once, twice, as if laughing at them, the brittle sound echoing off the sheer cliff wall at their backs. The others beat their wings, just in the background, blowing leaves and grass and dirt in their eyes as if to make the humans’ surrender complete.

“Kayne!” they both shouted now, Lutheran and Aurora desperate for a little magic to help them survive. 

“Help!”

“Kayne!”

“Whatever you’re going to do, do it
now
!”

It came, at last, the magic they had hoped for.

But in a most unexpected manner…

At last, with the Hooters beating their wings at his back and Aurora and Lutheran inches away from the jaws of a puss-dripping Hooter, Kayne spoke the last line of his spell: 

“And crack your artifice, 

Deep and wide;

To let the innocent 

Come inside.”

With those last few words, the cliff wall in front of him broke in two, granite crumbling as a sheer wall slid open, revealing a calm and quiet clearing just inside the jagged edged walls.

“Hurry!” Kayne spat, just as the first Hooter bit Lutheran’s walking stick in two. “Hurry before it closes again and we’re left here, defenseless, against Kronos’ minions.”

Aurora was just turning when Kayne yanked her through, shoving her into the clearing with surprising strength. She stumbled, righted herself and looked back, only to find Lutheran close behind, waving his half-stick at the beaks darting forward at his back. 

Kayne felt the wall trembling behind him as the closest Hooter darted forward, its crusty beak open, leathery red tongue oozing green slime from raw, open sores as it tried in vain to taste of Kayne’s enchanted flesh.

It hooted and squawked, trying to force its way in behind them. Kayne held out a hand to form a ball of power, watching it flicker pitifully in his palm, when suddenly he felt a double dose of electricity surge through his veins as the ball doubled in size immediately. 

Aurora was there, at his side, clutching his free hand with her own trembling fingers and using their entwined courage to help release twice the power from Kayne’s single spell. 

A ball of light formed quickly, sizzling and white with the vaguest hint of blue, and firing without pause. It struck the Hooter square in the nearest eye, puncturing the vulnerable surface and spraying the granite wall with a flood of thick, yellow fluid, like the yolk from the world’s biggest, nastiest egg. 

It smelled of sulfur and rot and angriness and death. The Hooter squealed, in great, gasping breaths that barked and belched, backing away with great beats of its leather wings just as the door in the mountainside slid shut, tearing away one his massive claws.

The wall sealed tight, shutting off the Hooter’s cries, the decapitated claw withering into a former shell of itself, shrinking down to its original size now that its source of black magic had been, quite literally, cut off from its power source. 

Kayne wondered if, wounded, the rest of the Hooter would wither and die itself. Or was Kronos’ magic so powerful that a new talon would form, bigger and stronger than the one before it?

Lutheran leaned against an outcropping of trees, bending over to catch his breath. Aurora gently let go of his hand, peering up at Kayne closely. 

“What… what did you just do?” she asked, eyes searching desperately for an answer. 

He looked at her, slightly ashamed. “I’m sorry, Aurora.”

“Sorry for what?” Her pert nostrils flared. 

He sighed. “It’s forbidden for mortals to know the exact location of the Land of Morgis, so I… I couldn’t tell you we were already here until, well…” 

He spread his arms, taking in the majestic, if intimidating view just inside the hollow mountain. “… until we were already here.”

“Here?” she asked, looking around. 

There was a smudge of dirt on her face, and a leaf in her hair from where the Hooters had flapped their giant, leathery wings during their aborted attack. 

He picked it out for her, gently, tenderly. 

“You mean…” she persisted, waving his hand away. “We’re already here? At the Morgis, the Land of the Oracles?”

He nodded, then shook his head. “Well, first we must pass through the Sacred Forest, and evade capture by the Wandering Spirits, but once we do we’ll be…”

As if on cue, there was movement behind them. Kayne turned, his hood falling down off his face with the sudden gesture. He scanned the horizon, seeing only the dense woods of the Sacred Forest that protected the Land of Morgis.

The trees were giant, massive, towering and bleak, like a wooden maze filled with dagger-like branches and sharp, dripping vines and rich, leathery bark. 

They stretched high into the sky, blotting out the sun’s rays that burst through the top of the hollow mountain. The thick treetops and sheer number of branches and leaves lining the canopy high above cast the three of them into near darkness.

Kayne sensed a presence at the edge of the forest, a kind of low, threatening hum he always felt in the presence of magic – dark or light. He inched forward, the hem of his enchanted cloak hovering mere inches off the ground, like white, shimmering leaves swirling at his feet. 

Aurora inched beside him. He felt her before he saw her, face smiling and uncertain next to his own. On the other side, Lutheran limped along, bruised and battered by the eventful morning, using the shattered remains of his walking stick more like a cane.

She reached for his hand then, their young skin crackling with power – white-blue hot power – as she raised his hand in her own to light the treacherous path in front of them. 

“There,” she said with a satisfied tone. “It was growing dark in here.”

“I never thought of myself as a human torch,” he said, “but this does come in handy.”

“You’re not human, remember,” she snickered by his side as they approached the dense, dark forest that lay just behind the closed door to the mountain. 

Next to them, seeking the warmth of their light, Lutheran cracked, “I’m the only human around these parts, remember. You’re both some kind of magical, at least when you’re together—”

“You’re all human!” shouted a voice, loud and thundering, hoarse and cracked, just in front of them.

“Who goes there?” asked Kayne, raising his and Aurora’s hands to cast light onto, and into, the thick forest. 

“Show yourself!” he commanded, trying to sound braver than he really was. 

“Right in front of you,” came the voice and, peering closely, Kayne saw a large face looming in the trunk of the nearest tree. He approached it, dragging Aurora with him. 

It was sticking out of a gnarled tree trunk, a broken branch for a crooked nose, two mossy bulbs for eyes that glowed a misty green and a deep gash in its bark for a leering, crooked mouth. 

Suddenly, the mouth moved. “Now you see me,” it said, just before the face disappeared. They all inched closer, like children around a candy store window, peering at a random, generic tree trunk. No longer did mossy eyes or a broken branch or a leering grin mar its leather bark. It was now just a tree, and only a tree. 

“Now you don’t!” 

The voice was disembodied, but nearby. It could have come from above, or behind, or beside them. Or perhaps even beneath them. Kayne had heard only tall tales about the Sacred Forest, never having entered it for himself before. 

“Over here,” it called and suddenly appeared in another ancient tree trunk just to the left of them. This one featured the same mossy eyes, blinking with a low, green, spectral glow, the same knobby branch shaped nose and the same rough gash in its bark for a mouth.

“Here I am,” it bragged, the gash moving just like a human mouth. “Right here!”

“Who are you?” asked Kayne, dragging Aurora’s hand along with his for a closer look. 

“
What
are you?”

“I am the Guardian of the Sacred Forest,” said the tree trunk proudly, voice booming in the ancient woods. Its crooked mouth creaked when it spoke, adding to the dry timbre of the Guardian’s scolding tone. 

“I help protect the Oracles by keeping outsiders from the Land of Morgis.” Its mossy eyes glowed greener as they peered out at them suspiciously. 

“Outsiders like you!”

“What if the outsiders are trying to right a wrong?” asked Kayne, inching closer still. Aurora followed closely, her hand awkwardly high like his own. “Shouldn’t they be allowed to see the Oracles then?”

“If you were trying to right a wrong, my dear boy,” said the Guardian, “the Oracles would already know about it. And when the Oracles knew about it, they’d tell me about—”

“Not if you keep us from them,” interrupted Aurora. 

“Silence, mortal!” thundered the Guardian.

Kayne could feel Aurora’s anger rising through the energy pulsing through her arm. A small shock of light sizzled through her fingers, into his, forming a shaft of power that shot out toward the Guardian and cut through one of his higher branches like a hot blade through butter. The smell of burning wood filled the edge of the forest.

Around them, the trees shivered, leaves falling as branches creaked as if tossed about in a sudden wind.

“Who dares wound the Guardian of the Sacred Forest?” boomed the tree, eyes glowing a gassy green. 

“I’m sorry,” Aurora apologized before Kayne could stop her. “But as you see, I’m not
all
human.”

The tree regarded her skeptically, mossy eyes glowing as his bark lips frowned. 

“You’re human enough, my dear,” it said cryptically, crooked gash moving up and down as if the tree might be laughing at her. 

At them.

“What’s
that
supposed to mean?” asked Kayne, gripping Aurora’s hand tightly as another power ball threatened to erupt from their palms. 

“It means for her what it means for you all,” thundered the enchanted tree, mossy eyes glaring at them. “This forest isn’t just sacred, it’s haunted.”

“By whom?” Lutheran finally found the courage to ask, leaning crookedly on what remained of his shattered walking stick. 

“By those who came before you, of course,” barked the Tree, as if he might have had something to do with it. “All who have tried to find the Land of Oracles and failed stayed here, angry and undead and vengeful, haunting these woods so that no one else gets the chance they themselves were denied.”

Kayne glanced toward Aurora, feeling the fear in her heart sap her power. He gripped her hand tightly and said, “We don’t plan to fail, Guardian.”

The tree laughed, a booming sound soon picked up by the Guardian’s brethren. Throughout the haunted wood, the trees formed garish gashes in their bark, chuckling a dry, husky laugh that echoed throughout the Sacred Forest. 

“Neither did they,” the Guardian chuckled, slash of a mouth creaking with every syllable. “Neither did they, boy.”

“We shall pass,” said Kayne, feeling the power surge through his veins. “We shall find the Oracles, and we shall—”