Legon Awakening: Book One in the Legon Series (33 page)

The Elf and Iumenta were flitting around the clearing
at amazing speeds, the fenrra just a shiny blur. A steady
spattering of blood was coming from the fenrra, not from fresh
wounds, but from the blood of the slain now being flung off by the
tremendous speed at which they were being swung.

His brother was dead. He saw the head roll away from
his body which still held that ridiculous sword in a limp hand. He
felt hot tears rolling down his cheeks and he was aware that his
throat hurt. He was screaming himself hoarse, but he didn’t hear
the sound. Sara and Sasha were clinging to him, trying to drag him
back to the horses. Arkin was attempting to clear a path as the two
non-humans fought, pushing themselves to kill the other. Keither
hoped they did it. He hoped that Legon would kill the bastard.

A knife flew by him, nicking Sara’s arm and causing
her to yelp. He heard that sound. He looked at Sara’s arm now with
blood running down it. He looked at his brother, the one who had
protected him his whole life, who had tried to make him a man. The
one that would never let bad things happen to good people. He had
proved that with Sasha. Rage filled Keither. Rage at what he had
been through, what Sara had been made into, and what the Iumenta
had taken from all of them. His hand was still on the cleaver and
he gripped it with white knuckles. Now the scream was not that of
loss but of a terrible drive to stop those that had hurt the people
he loved. To kill all of those that murdered in the name of the
Queen.

Sara let go of his arm, and Keither ran forward,
raising the cleaver. One of the morons looked at him coming and
smiled, thinking he was going to get an easy kill off of this fat
kid. Fat he may have been, but under that fat was the muscle that
carried it all. The man attempted to block with a flimsy metal
shield. The cleaver dented it and the man’s arm gave way. Again and
again the cleaver came down. The shield was a wreck of what it once
was. Again the cleaver came down, removing the pathetic hunk of
metal from its owner. Now the look of amusement was replaced with
one of terror. The cleaver came down again, hitting at the base of
the man’s neck, crunching and slurping as it came out.

Another man was at his side raising his own weapon.
Keither jerked the blade out of one and hit the other in the ribs,
dropping the screaming man to the ground. This time the blade was
stuck, but no matter. He was next to his brother’s body. He reached
down and grabbed the sword with the ridiculous flames on it, but
they weren’t ridiculous to him anymore. Now he understood, now he
saw them for that they were. Arms grabbed around him and he saw
Arkin pulling him to the horses.

“
The bastard is using magic!”
he thought.
Arkin pushed and pulled him to the horses, but he resisted.
Finally, the look on Sara’s face made him reluctantly get on.

* * * * *

Legon was now very aware that he was no longer human.
He saw his surroundings in sharp clarity. Colors were more vibrant,
minute details in the world were now clear. He would have continued
his appraisal of the world if it weren’t for his current situation.
He was also aware that his spells had stopped when he had changed.
His magical power should have been drained, but it was far from
tapped out. He could feel it in every fiber of himself. He saw
Kovos and an Iumenta, and with that sight clarity was restored. He
tried to fortify Kovos…too late. He saw the tip of the blade
passing along the back of Kovos’ neck as the rest of it removed his
head. As Kovos fell, Legon’s eyes met with yellow ones and an
ancient bloodlust filled him. He went to move to the Iumenta, and a
soldier stepped in front of him.

Legon slashed hard with the fenrra, cutting the man
in half at the waist, the blade passing through like butter. He
sidestepped the organs splattering on the ground and moved to the
Iumenta, who in turn was coming at him. The Iumenta seemed to move
slower to him now. He realized instantly that Elves were faster.
Both lashed out at each other. The Iumenta parried with his left
fenrra, as did Legon. The sound of the metal clanging was
incredible, but his ears were stronger now; the clanging didn’t
bother him. They began to stab and spin, leaping from side to side,
sometimes jumping to low branches and then over their opponent. He
never knew that he could move like this, but even so his new
physical abilities did not give him an edge.

The Iumenta was a match to him in everything but
strength. Legon was stronger, but he was larger too, so no surprise
there. Legon poured magic into himself, trying to give him an edge.
Still, no matter how fast or strong he was, the thing in front of
him had hundreds of years of experience on him. He was losing
ground and fast. He was aware of Arkin in his head telling him it
was time to go, but the Iumenta was not going to let him go without
a fight. An idea came to him then, one that he should have had a
while ago. He shot a bolt of magic at the Iumenta’s feet, making a
stone explode. His opponent flinched and backed away, and Legon
slashed across his chest. The tip on the fenrra grazed him but
nothing more. The Iumenta backed away further, ordering his men to
rush forward. Legon crossed the clearing in a few steps. He
couldn’t help but think how handy being an Elf could be. He jumped
on to Phantom and turned away from the clearing.

“Where is Kovos’ body?” he asked, not having time to
feel emotion.

“There isn’t time,” Arkin said.

There was time. They weren’t going to leave him here
to be eaten or who knows what else.

“No. We are not leaving without him.”

“We have to Legon, there’s no choice,” Sara
begged.

Sasha tugged at his mind, and he looked at her. Her
face was spattered with blood. Kovos had saved all of them. He gave
his life so they could all live and have a chance. Legon wasn’t
about to waste that sacrifice. He turned with them and they started
to ride.

* * * * *

It wasn’t more than a few moments before Sasha heard
the sound of pursuing horses. Maybe they should have stayed and
died in the clearing with Kovos. No, that was stupid, but she was
still unsure about how they were going to get away. Even if they
somehow managed to put distance between them and their followers,
what then? They had too much land to cover. She felt Legon entering
her mind, accessing the logic portions of it. What was he doing?
There wasn’t enough information to properly use the Mahann, was
there? She became aware of all of their minds, even Keither’s and
the horses. She needed to have Legon check her out when and if they
stopped. Her head was still buzzing. Then she felt it—the magic.
Something she had felt before, but not like this, not even when she
had been connected with Legon. She couldn’t feel the magic before
but she did now. Legon widened the connection and she felt a mind
that was Legon’s, but now alien and vast. The power of the magic
was so strong. She felt a deep well of it in him, and then the
spell that stuck her and the rest of the group to their saddles,
locking them in place.

Now he was fidgeting in all their heads, tapping
every mental resource they had. She felt logic and spatial
reasoning centers being activated. The sensory organs of the horses
were being boosted and glands in their brains being manipulated to
dump huge amounts of endorphins and adrenalin into their bodies.
They could now run themselves to death and not feel it with the
chemicals coursing through their veins. Now the magic was
reinforcing their hooves and bones, making them stronger and more
resistant to heat. What was he doing? She felt compelled to look
ahead; he was using her to figure out speed.

The horses were going close to thirty-five miles an
hour. That was dangerous on this kind of road. Then she remembered
that they were altered by magic. Now he was shutting down organs
saving energy. Even her own body was changing. The muscles in her
hands clinched around the reins. The wind was building as the
shouts of the men behind them were growing fainter.

Then the burst of energy came. Massive amounts of
magical and physical energy ripped out of Legon and into the
horses. They were starting to accelerate, and she felt herself
being pulled back but being held by the sticking spell. The wind
was strong at forty miles an hour. More and more energy poured from
him. Now fifty, then sixty. The trees were starting to blur as they
hit seventy miles an hour. A town was fast coming up, the Queen’s
banner flying at the edge. But at seventy-five miles an hour, the
town flew by them, the guards never having time to figure out what
was going on.

Now eighty, and the acceleration finally leveled off.
The sound from the hooves was just one continuous noise. After a
bit they slowed back down to sixty, but still they kept going. The
horses were tiring fast and so was Legon, but still he put more and
more into them. Finally she sensed him losing consciousness and
worry crept into her mind. If Legon passed out then the spells
helping the horses would fail and the animals would be left running
at sixty miles an hour. They would fall for sure. They slowed
gradually at first and soon they were close to what they could do
on their own. As they slowed to fifteen miles an hour, Legon passed
out and Sasha unstuck from her saddle. The horses were not
completely spent, and she knew that there were still plenty of
chemicals in their blood to keep them going for a few more
hours.

“Arkin, should we keep going?” she asked, knowing the
answer.

“Yes.” He didn’t say any more and she was no longer
able to connect with his mind. This worried her too. Kovos’ death
was sad. She knew that it would hit her soon and then she would
lose it, but Arkin took their safety as a matter of personal
responsibility.

They trotted along the road with no one talking. She
glanced at Keither, who was looking at the back of Pixy’s head and
not making a sound. He had been like his brother today, fighting
the way he did. She was proud of him. As she thought this, her eyes
began to burn and she tried to focus on logic. There would be time
to mourn later.

* * * * *

Keither knew that he should be crying, but he wasn’t.
He just didn’t have it in him. And Kovos wouldn’t have wanted it
that way. He wouldn’t want people sulking over his death. He tried
to calm his cluttered mind but couldn’t. The last thing he said to
his brother was that he was selfish, which was something Keither
knew to be untrue. He knew what his brother had done for him over
the years; kept him from getting hit with arrows, saved him from
being trampled by animals. It was too hard to think of the number
of times Kovos had saved him from harm if not death. But what had
he done for Kovos? What had he done for anyone? There wasn’t much
that was for sure. He always had great intentions of helping, but
when it came time to do it he wasn’t there. It should have been him
that had been killed by the Iumenta, should have been him that had
made the ultimate sacrifice for the group. All of the others put in
effort, but he was just along for the ride.

Wasn’t that the way that he lived his entire life? He
never thought about a trade, never cared to learn his father’s,
never tried to do well at anything. About a week into their journey
he had turned fifteen. They would have celebrated, but that was
right after their run-in with the Royal Guard and by the time he
thought of it he didn’t care. Still, fifteen years and nothing to
show for it. Yes, he was young, but that was no excuse. By this age
most of men in Salmont had picked a trade and were actively engaged
in it. What was he going to make of his life?

* * * * *

Arkin rode ahead of the others, trying to fight back
emotion as he went. Yet again he had failed as a protector, first
with Legon’s mother and now Kovos. He knew that the effect of his
death would carry farther than anyone could ever understand. Most
didn’t see the connections that all men have. Not only had Kovos’
life ended, but his brother, parents, and an innocent girl back in
Salmont had been hurt as well.

“
No, our actions are far reaching,”
he said to
himself. He kicked himself. He couldn’t afford to wallow in
self-pity at the moment. There would be time for that later. Now he
needed to get them all to safety and to the resistance. Legon had
brought them to within a few days of the border. Never had he heard
of someone using magic to that extent. Well, at least not a person.
A dragon yes, but not a person. Still, a small part of him was
happy. It must be true now that he was an Elf, wasn’t it?

The land that they were in now was far more barren
than they had yet seen. Thankfully, the area was hilly so they
could rest for the night. The sun was almost to the horizon when
Arkin found an area for them to camp. Legon was still out cold on
Phantom and Arkin instructed them to leave him in case they needed
to leave in a hurry. Their camp was surrounded by trees but he
still didn’t feel comfortable starting a fire or using magic to
make light. It would be easy for scouts to see and infinitely
worse, dragons.

No one was hungry or talking. Arkin walked to the
edge of camp and knelt, projecting his consciousness out. After
hours he finally felt something on the other end. It was a new
person that he didn’t know, but he had the right passwords so he
passed on his report. He didn’t leave anything out, but most
important he told of Legon’s transfiguration. That one got his
attention. The person on the other end was shocked; Arkin figured
the man wasn’t high enough ranking to be in the loop on Legon. He
was instructed to head straight south and to move fast. They would
try to send help if they could, but it was doubtful. Arkin made it
clear that he understood and broke the connection.

Something was nudging at his mind. It was Sasha. She
was trying to reestablish the network. He allowed the connection,
and the first thing she wanted was a damage report.