Powers of the Six (15 page)

Alec steadied his shaking, burned hand and focused on the battle in front of him, as well as the internal war of resisting his emerging Shay. Sweat trailed down his face, stinging his eyes. The Dor’Jan had doubled, then tripled. He wasn’t even sure how many there were anymore; they surrounded him.

He turned, gritting his teeth, as he waved the flames at the closing Dor’Jan. A creature dodged and grabbed Alec’s face. Alec screamed and dropped the stick; the flame sputtered and choked out, enveloping him in darkness.

Pain, sharper than the fire, filled his lungs as if he’d swallowed hot coals. His Shay pulled from deep within, trying to rip from Alec’s soul.

Alec gasped as the creature let go. Another Dor’Jan grappled it away. Alec crawled across the ground on elbows, away from the skirmish, his pulse racing. But after a few pitiful paces, another Dor’Jan slammed against his back.

Long, ragged nails stabbed his face. Alec’s breath left again, his Shay struggling to stay within. The Dor’Jan released him as another creature yanked it away. The dark shadows fought each other, struggling to reach their prize. Alec dragged himself across the ground, away from the tangled, wrestling throng.

But it wasn’t far enough.

Another Dor’Jan grabbed him, pushing him down. And its hand was cold … so very cold. The meager air trickling through Alec’s nostrils smelled of rotting flesh. He tried to push the beast’s bony wrist away, but it was too strong. Alec’s mind drifted. Nobody—not even his father—would find what was left of his dead body.

A flash of light burned through the darkness, bright as the sun. The Dor’Jan released Alec, and a high-pitched scream filled the air. More animalistic squeals joined the first. Horrible howls lingered in the darkness, some of them choking off short.

As Alec’s eyes adjusted to the light, he saw a man—or something like a man—standing over him, dressed in golden armor. Light shone from him and around him as he slashed and stabbed with a sword shining brighter than the flames of a forge. The Dor’Jan burst into flames as the warrior pierced them. Creatures fell to the ground, shrieking, and then went silent and still. The warrior gazed down at Alec, studying him, as if making a decision. Through the haze muddling Alec’s brain, he saw two bright lights shining where the warrior’s eyes should be.

“Get up,” the warrior ordered.

Disoriented, Alec stared.

“Get up, I say!” The warrior hacked into another Dor’Jan, grabbed Alec from the ground, and threw him over his shoulder like a rag doll.

The trees whirred by with the power of Speed, except the light of the warrior surrounded them, protecting them like day. Alec’s head bounced as the warrior’s powerful muscles shifted as he ran. The shrieking diminished, and Alec’s last conscious memory was the steady drum of the warrior’s feet upon the ground.

Chapter Twelve

NOLAN SAT ON THE EDGE of his bed, candlelight flickering on the six stones in his ink-stained palm. Candle wax dripped down the sides and pooled on the table. Nolan had an hour or so before the light ran out completely. It didn’t matter so much. Morning was almost there.

He swatted a mosquito and rolled the rocks in his palm. Nolan wasn’t sure why he liked the silly things so much. He’d played with them daily since he’d gotten them in Aunt Bonty’s pub. They served no purpose—except for being a child’s toy. They were even too small to use on his new sling. Seeing the colors mix and mingle, not separated, filled him with longing for their land to change. He wished that it didn’t matter how you painted your house or what color shirt you wore.

One by one, he placed the stones into the pouch, refastened it, and sighed. Both Taryn and Alec were part of the Rol’dan now. It was too late. And he’d stood back and watched it happen, hiding behind a group of Accuracy archers. Crows! Maybe Alec was right: He was a coward after all.

But what could he have done? The king sensed power. Nolan had hidden behind the archers so he wouldn’t be detected. If he had run out to help Alec and Taryn, he’d have been arrested and probably hanged by now. He couldn’t have done anything.

A distant, nagging voice drilled in Nolan’s head, reminding him of one more option, one given to him in Alton’s prison tower.

Lying down, he pulled the blanket under his chin, forcing the guilt away. The hum of the insects’ serenade sang in his ears. Not to mention the raucous laughter of the late-night celebrations from the end of the trials. Tent walls were too thin. Nolan blew out what was left of his candle and sunk farther into bed, trying to tune out the noise and the busy drone of his own thoughts.

Outside his tent, someone groaned. More than likely, some idiot had taken his celebrations a bit too far. Nolan tried to ignore it, but the pathetic moans grew louder.

Nolan threw off his covers, put on his spectacles, and emerged into the humid night air. The sorry sap was easy to find, lying under the light of a torch. Nolan shook his head and smiled, but his amusement faded when he noticed the gold fabric reflecting in the firelight.

A Speed Rol’dan? What in the Darkness was he doing here?

He cautiously approached, rocks digging into his bare feet. As he got closer, he stared in astonishment. The soldier was Alec Deverell.

If it weren’t for the groaning, Nolan would’ve thought him dead. His sickly, pale skin resembled a corpse’s. He turned Alec’s limp body over, put an ear to his chest, and heard a steady heartbeat and even breathing. He sighed. The last time he’d seen him, Alec had a sword stuck through his chest.

Nolan shook Alec’s shoulders. “Alec?”

He didn’t respond. Nolan lightly slapped his face.

Alec’s eyes popped open. He gasped, flailing.

Nolan dodged a fist. “Whoa! It’s me!”

Alec blinked, staring at Nolan with unfocused eyes. “Nolan? Where am I?”

“Outside. At camp.”

Alec looked around, his breath in short pants. He brought a hand to his chest, rubbing it, cringing as if in pain.

Nolan scanned him and relaxed. No blood. No wounds. Had he been drinking to forget the whole Rol’dan situation? Yes, that was it. He’d seen Kardos do the same.

“How’d I get here?” Alec asked.

Nolan smiled. “I didn’t take you as one for drinking so hard.”

“Drinking?” Alec shook his head, and his forehead wrinkled. “No … no … This isn’t right.”

“Come on.” Nolan put a hand under Alec’s arm. “Let’s get you to the lodge.”

Alec yanked his arm away, the light of Speed flaring in his eyes. “The warrior. Where is he?”

“The warrior? Alec, you should get back to the lodge and lie—”

“I don’t want to go to the lodge,” Alec said through clenched teeth.

“I should get one of the Strength Rol’dan to help.”

“Crows, Nolan. Didn’t you hear what I said? I don’t want to go to the lodge or go with the Rol’dan.” He tried to stand, but fell back, his shoulders sagging. “I should go find the Dor’Jan,” he said. “I’d be better off with them.”

“Dor’Jan? There’s no Dor’Jan here. You had a bad dream.”

“Not here.” Alec pointed to the forest. “Out there.” He held out a trembling hand, turning it, inspecting it. “The warrior must’ve healed me.”

Nolan studied him.

He scowled. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m drunk or insane.”

Nolan laughed.

“I’m
not
,” Alec said, as if trying to convince himself. “Those monsters attacked me in the forest. I would’ve died if that warrior hadn’t saved me. It was some kind of light warrior or something …” His voice trailed off. He glared at Nolan. “You’re doing it again.”

Nolan shook off his expression. “Sorry, but it seems a little strange.”

A group of competitors passed. Their conversation faded into silence when they saw Alec. Leaves and grass stuck out of Alec’s curly hair, and lines of soot smeared across his pale face. His uniform was a mess. Unbuttoned. Disheveled. Covered in grime and dirt. The group quickened their pace and, after they had gotten a good distance away, began to whisper.

Nolan leaned in. “If you don’t want to go to the lodge, at least get inside.”

The scowl on Alec’s face softened. He pursed his lips and gave a curt nod.

It took all of Nolan’s strength to support Alec’s limp weight as they proceeded slowly to Nolan’s tent, gaining more stares on the way. Once inside, Alec crumpled on the bed. For several minutes, they sat silently as new morning light filtered into the tent.

Nolan sat next to him, the bed creaking. “Tell me again. What happened?”

“The Dor’Jan—”

“Not there,” Nolan said. “Tell me what happened before. You said you were in the forest?”

A strange expression passed over Alec’s face.

“How did you get in the forest?” Nolan prodded.

Alec hesitated. “Last night, the new Rol’dan had dinner with the king.”

“In the forest?” Nolan had never heard of such a ridiculous thing.

“No,” Alec spat. “We had dinner in the lodge.”

“So something happened at this dinner?”

Alec looked away. “I guess the dinner was okay. Taryn was with me, and a few others seemed nice. The food tasted good too …”

“But the king?”

He nodded slowly. “He kept singling me out, talking to me. After we finished eating, he pulled me aside. Told me how wonderful I was and—” He cleared his throat. “It’s like he manipulated my head. I wanted to leave him, but I just couldn’t.”

“Ah,” Nolan said.
He used Empathy
. Memories of Emery Cadogan controlling Nolan flashed in his mind. He shuddered. The king was more powerful than Emery.

“After he left,” Alec continued, “I was so disgusted I ran into the forest. A stupid idea now that I think about it. The sun was setting, and I was completely lost by the time night came. That’s when the Dor’Jan came for me.”

Nolan sat straighter. “You saw the Dor’Jan?”

“Aye,” Alec said. “And they’re even worse than the stories. If it wasn’t for the warrior …”

Alec’s hands shook. He’d obviously been through something terrible, whatever it was. Nolan wasn’t sure what to believe. No one had ever seen the Night Beasts and lived. If it was truly the Dor’Jan that had attacked Alec, he was lucky to be alive.

“You know,” Nolan said, “if you needed somewhere to go, you could’ve come here.”

Alec snorted. “Here? Why? So you can tell me to do nothing, like at the trials?”

Nolan started as if he’d been slapped. “No. You could’ve come to talk—”

“Talking won’t change anything. Talking won’t take away this nightforsaken power. Talking won’t make my father hate me less.”

“Hate you?” Nolan said. “Oh, come now. He doesn’t hate you.”

“Once he finds out I’m a Rol’dan, he will.” Alec sighed. “The only good Rol’dan to him is a dead one.”

“I’m sure he won’t—”

“You don’t know my father. There’s nothing in the world he hates more than the Rol’dan. When he finds out, I’ll no longer be his son.”

Nolan laughed.

“You find this funny?” Alec glared.

“I’m sorry. It’s just … well, your father might disown you for becoming a Shay Rol’dan, while my father disowned me for
not
becoming one. He shipped me off as apprentice scribe as soon as I came home.”

“Your father was ridiculous.”

“Why?”

“It’s not like you could help …” Alec’s voice trailed off and he winced. “Even if it isn’t my fault, Father will still hate me.”

“Give him a chance,” Nolan prodded.

“Nolan.” He stared at his hands resting limply in his lap. “One of them killed my mother.”

Nolan ran a hand over his chin, drawing in a slow breath. That explained a lot. Kardos had his reasons for hating the Rol’dan, but Nolan would’ve never guessed this.

“It happened when I was eight,” Alec said. “Two Rol’dan soldiers came to collect an order. I heard my mother crying. When I looked through the door …” He sniffed. “She hadn’t a chance. A Strength Rol’dan had his way with her. And after he was done, he killed her. All I did was stand there.”

“What could you do?” Nolan said. “You were only a boy. Even a grown man can’t fight a Strength Rol’dan.”

Alec shook his head. “I have no idea, but I should’ve done something.”

A few voices passed outside, and a sliver of sunlight broke through a crack in the tent.

“It destroyed my father.” Alec pushed himself up and staggered to the desk. “Afterward, the soldier said she attacked him. My father denied it, of course. He could’ve been locked away for the things he said to them. Instead, the king ordered him to continue with his work, forcing him to create weapons for them.

“That’s why he’s pushed me,” Alec said. “He’s taught me how to defend myself against the Rol’dan. And now I’ve become the very thing he taught me to kill.” His shoulders slumped and his arms hung limply. “It makes no difference anyway. It’s not like I can go home. The Rol’dan will force me to train, and I’ll become like them.”

“Just because you have a Shay, doesn’t mean you’ll become like them,” Nolan said. “
You
decide how to use your power.”