Powers of the Six (38 page)

Nolan surged all of his powers at once just as a platoon of Rol’dan broke through the trees. Golden tunics flew toward him, swords shining in the late afternoon sun. Like the log he’d been practicing on, Nolan flung the spikes toward them.

The first wave of soldiers didn’t know what had killed them.

The second ranks barely noticed before the spikes embedded into their chests.

Nolan’s hands shook, but his aim flew perfectly. He yanked his Empathy from the horror and fear in their minds.

A few adjusted their run, diving out of the way. They yanked their swords as they ran toward the temple. Nolan leaped from one metal beam to another, using Speed and Accuracy at the same time to retrieve the stones. He flung them into his bag as a Rol’dan appeared on top of the dome.

Using all of his Shays, Nolan drew his sword, jumped toward the Rol’dan, and sliced the air as he fell.

The Rol’dan pitched backward off the temple, his head tumbling beside him.

Nolan had little time to ponder the gruesome act as he grasped the ivy climbing the temple. It slowed his fall until the ivy snapped. He increased Strength, hardening his body as his feet struck the ground.

Every bone jarred at the impact, the ground cracking under his feet.

Nolan swung around and blocked another’s blow, the metal of their blades echoing against the walls. The Rol’dan soldier fought well, though not as well as Nolan. After three strikes, Nolan impaled him and turned to fight his next enemy.

Soldier after soldier, men and women both, died by Nolan’s hand. And he felt everything—their fear, their pain, and the release of their death—yet he couldn’t pity them … not yet. He only had time to turn and allow it to happen again and again.

After the battle ended, the few remaining Rol’dan retreated into the trees. Using Perception, Nolan heard them going farther away.

His muscles shook with tension and exhaustion. He scanned the bodies littering the ground. He had killed more than thirty soldiers in just a few minutes.

So much blood.

So many lives.

Nolan retched on a pile of rubble.

He wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his bloodstained tunic. With a shaking hand, he sheathed his sword. He must warn the others. The Rol’dan would certainly return.

“My lord,” a voice said, not much past a whisper.

Nolan jerked his head around, searching for the source of the voice. A boy lay in a puddle of blood, both fear and desperation trickling from his emotions. Quickly, Nolan scanned the remainder of the bodies.

No heartbeats.

No breathing.

This Rol’dan still lived.

“My lord,” the boy said again. “P-please. Have mercy. Heal me.”

Nolan cringed, his muscles trembling. Crows! There was nothing he could do! He held all the powers … except the one that could save him.

“I … I can’t.” Nolan words stuck in his throat. He’d never felt so helpless.

What small bit of hope the boy held faded. His eyes closed, and his head drooped to the side. Nolan dove toward him, desperation driving him. If he could help. If he could save this life
Maybe I can stop the bleeding.
Nolan ripped open the boy’s tunic and jolted back.

She wasn’t a boy.

A wound between her breasts flowed with dark, crimson blood. Nolan pulled her tunic closed as best as he could. The wound was too deep. He summoned Strength and lifted her onto his shoulder. Though he couldn’t heal her, others could.

Chapter Thirty-One

EMERY CADOGAN watched the girls rummage through the muck, searching for the Stone of Healing. Megan lifted a blob of mud, examined it, and tossed it aside, frustration tainting her emotions. Taryn sat in the sticky mire next to Megan, her arms buried elbow deep in the goo. Emery smiled, amused. He’d seen a lot of things over the years, but he’d never seen two young women rolling in the mud.

Hakan caught Emery’s eyes. Emery put a hand over his mouth. He knew better. Megan had a temper. If she caught Emery grinning, she’d probably lob mud at him.

“Should we help?” Garrick whispered.

“Brim save the man who asks them,” Emery said.

Alec jumped down from a rock where he’d been watching the girls. Tension oozed from him like a dark, stormy cloud. “Are you sure you don’t need any help?” Alec called to them.

Taryn turned her head violently, flinging strings of once-blond hair now caked with grime. She answered with a glare that clearly said, “Don’t even ask.”

Hakan barked a laugh. “Aye, the boy will learn when to keep his mouth shut.”

Alec pressed his lips together in a scowl. He paced, his emotions radiating uselessness.

“Why don’t you sit and relax?” Emery suggested. “They’ll be at it for a while.”

Alec ignored him; Emery sensed his tension increase even more. Why was the boy so upset?

“Please, Alec. They’ll be fine,” Emery urged again. “Look at what a fine job they’re doing.”

Megan glared this time, though she didn’t look very scary with mud smeared across her nose.

“But you could’ve been killed,” Alec said. “I should’ve been there!”

How would rolling in the mud kill anyone? One could choke on it, he supposed. Then revelation washed over him. Alec had missed an encounter with a trio of Strength Rol’dan in Caldalk three days ago.

“It would’ve been nice if you were there,” Emery said, “but we handled it without you. Well, actually, Maska handled it.”

Maska grunted. “It was simple.”

While staying overnight at an inn, three Strength Rol’dan made the two biggest mistakes of their lives. The first: trying to push their lusts onto Megan and Taryn. The second: insulting Maska. It had been a tough fight, one that almost cost Maska his life. But he’d survived. The Rol’dan, however …

A squeal came from below. Megan slipped and fell on her backside in the muck. Hakan choked a laugh, smiling broadly. Emery wisely made no expression at all.

“Are you sure you don’t need help?” Alec asked again.

“
No
!” both girls screamed.

Alec stammered, “I … I was trying to help, for Brim’s sake. I’ll just go wait—”

Megan’s gasped. “By the light!” she said. “I’ve found it!” With a sucking gurgle, she pulled it from the muck, revealing a dirty, brown lump in her palm.

“That’s it?” Emery said. Though from the way her emotions soared, and how her tension suddenly vanished, they’d found the Stone of Healing.

Taryn scooted closer to Megan to admire it.

“What I wouldn’t give for a painter right now,” Hakan teased. “Would love to remember this vision. It’d make a grand piece to hang on my wall.”

“And the next time you hurt yourself, you’ll wish you hadn’t insulted us,” Megan said.

“A very good threat, lass,” Hakan said, “but the temptation might be worth the risk. Once I get back I might try my hand at jotting it down. You know, for posterity’s sake.”

Megan scowled, though a smile hid beneath it. “It wasn’t your posterity I was threatening.”

“Come on, ladies.” Emery chuckled and offered his hand. “Let’s get you cleaned up before Hakan ingrains the vision in his mind.”

“Ah, but it’s too late.” Hakan pointed a thick finger to the side of his bushy mane. “It’s all here.”

“Well,” Megan said, “let’s hope you’re able to make it home alive.”

Hakan threw back his head and laughed. “Indeed.”

The girls trekked up the incline, slipping several times on the way. Megan grabbed Emery’s waiting hand, and he pulled her up the hill before helping Taryn. When they were both on flat ground, he shook his hand, spattering mud onto the weeds.

“Hakan, can you hear any water nearby? A lake or stream?” Emery asked.

“Right on it,” Hakan said as his Perception glowed orange.

Emery met Megan’s eyes. “Well done. If anyone could find it, it would be you.”

She smiled, and a smudge of mud cracked on her cheek. On an impulse, Emery reached up and wiped it off. Shock and excitement spiked in her. He inhaled sharply and yanked his hand away.

“Sounds like there might be a small stream,” Hakan said, pointing. “But it’s the wrong way from home. So if we wait a bit, then we can …” His voice trailed off.

Hakan frowned. He put a finger to his lips. Pulling his crossbow from his back, he motioned for them to follow and took off at a run.

In and out of the trees they darted, only hearing the crunch of their feet in the brush and the heavy beating of their hearts. Hakan stopped, his eyes blazing orange. He squatted in a small clearing, motioning for the others to do the same. “We’re being followed,” he whispered.

“Who are they?” Megan said.

“Sounds like Rol’dan. A large group of them, too. But we’re in luck. They don’t know we’re here.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Alec hissed. “If they’re following us, they must know.”

“Not entirely true,” Emery said, his eyes dropping to the stone in Megan’s hand.

“Crows!” Hakan said. “They’re following the stone.”

“So what do we do?” Megan asked.

“We need to stop them,” Emery said. “Use the stone as bait. With the element of surprise, we might have a chance.” Emery turned to Megan. “You and Taryn hide until it’s safe.”

“She can hide without me,” Megan said, annoyance tainting her emotions. “I’m needed here.”

“Megan, please,” Emery said.

“I’m staying.”

Emery’s heart sank.
Stubborn girl.
He turned to Taryn. “Run. Then hide. If all goes well, we’ll see you soon.”

Her eyes darted toward Alec.

“Listen to Emery.” Alec grabbed her trembling hand. Emery could sense Alec’s fear, not for himself, but for her.

“Go,” Alec whispered.

“Where?”

“Away from us. We’ll find you when it’s over.”

She nodded, tears streaming through the grime on her cheeks. With a last glance over her shoulder, she stumbled off, disappearing into the undergrowth.

They watched her go, then Megan took the stone and shoved it under a bush.

Emery slid out his dagger—not that he’d do much good. He had never really been a fighter. He focused his Empathy, preparing to control those he could.

Alec slid his sword free. “What’s the plan?”

“You will all go to Faylinn,” a voice answered.

General Kael Trividar stood at the edge of the clearing, his sword out and a confident sneer on his face. “Dead or alive,” he said. “It makes little difference to me.”

***

Emery’s head thrummed as he teetered on the edge of consciousness. The bruising from the Rol’dan’s fist had already swelled. Every time he flared his Empathy, the soldier violently reminded him to keep it put away.

He hoped Alec could hold his own with Kael, maybe even escape. There was little chance for the rest of them, and Taryn would need his help.

“Fire!”

A volley of arrows flung into the blur of the sword fight, and the two figures flashed into normal view. Alec fell to the ground thrashing, while Kael grasped his arrow-pierced leg.

“Idiots!” Kael yelled.

The Accuracy archers turned white.

“Forgive us, General. We couldn’t see properly.”

Kael yanked the arrow free and hurled it to the ground. He then grabbed Alec by the hair and pulled him, legs kicking, toward where Hakan, Garrick, and Megan were bound.

Alec gritted his teeth. “You son of a—”

Kael kicked him in the face.

Soldiers tied Alec’s hands and feet and threw him next to the others. Several grunts turned Kael’s attention toward Maska and two soldiers failing miserably at trying to restrain him.

“Lieutenant, why can’t you control this savage?”

“Sir,” the soldier huffed, “he’s much stronger than we expected.”

“Break his legs if you’re too weak to hold him. And while you’re at it, break his arms as well. We’ll see how he struggles when he can no longer move.” Kael stepped closer to Maska. “How does that sound, Tala-swine?”

Maska remained silent, his face an expressionless mask.

“Nothing, then? How disappointing.”

Kael nodded toward a burly soldier whose eyes glowed red with Strength. The soldier stepped in front of Maska and gave a small snort of laughter. In one swift movement, he pulled a mace, swung back, and contacted with Maska’s right leg with a resounding
crack
.

Maska buckled over.

His captors pulled him upright, and the soldier raised the mace over his head—much like driving a tent spike—and smashed Maska’s other leg.

Emery shut his eyes with the sound of crunching bone.
We’ve come so far to be stopped now.
He opened his eyes to see them repeat the process on Maska’s arms. After they’d finished, Maska lay in the grass, his limbs at odd angles, and his emotions focused on pain alone. Emery’s stomach lurched, his heart aching.
Oh, Maska.