The Forgotten King (Korin's Journal) (46 page)

“We’ve got to move,” I called.  I was met with two agreeing nods. 

I led us further into Terafall, hoping to find a spot where the fighting wasn’t so thick.  As we came to the main road, however, I found that what we’d just experienced was probably as thinned as the battle got. 

Take the description of the battle I gave before and multiply it by about ten.  All I could see was violence and death.  The air was thick with the scent of smoke, blood, and the dozens of rotting undead mixed among the hundreds of living troops.  The bodies of the dead littered any open ground that I could make out.  A new battle to keep my bile from exiting my mouth began.

I gestured to Briscott and Ithan to follow me and made a break along fronts of the houses down Terafall’s thoroughfare, determined to find a good place to hide and rethink our whole plan.  We hadn’t made it far before four living men poured out from between two houses, causing us to come to an abrupt, sliding halt. 

The men, just steps from where we’d stopped, were dirty from mud and ash, their hair plastered to their heads from snow and sweat.  Two were shirtless with glowing green crystals poking out from blackened skin.  All four carried swords.  Their eyes were filled with pure terror.  These men didn’t want to be here.  They didn’t want to hurt anyone.  The green rocks in their chests took any alternative away from them, though.

One of the shirtless men’s eyes landed on us.  I’d instinctively dropped into a defensive stance, my sword ready.   Briscott had his dagger out with a vicious gleam in his eyes, and Ithan had one hand on Fleet with the other held out towards the four men.  We were immediately classified as enemies, and though I could see in the men’s eyes that they didn’t wish to hurt us, they turned away from their previously intended course to focus on the three of us instead.  Without a hint of reservation, they attacked.

I caught the lead man’s blade against my own.  “Try not to kill them; they’re enslaved!” I screamed to Briscott and Ithan as I deflected the man’s attack.  I hated qualifying my statement with “try not to,” but there was a chance that killing them would prove to be necessary.  That I’d accepted that fact created a sour pit in my stomach.

“Please,” the man I fought pleaded as he adeptly continued his assault.  If the rock would’ve let him ask someone to kill him, that’s probably what would’ve come out of his mouth instead.  After my own time with a rock in my chest, I understood, yet this man had probably been through far worse than I had. 

With another metallic strike of my attacker’s blade against my own, I shoved my shortsword up and forward with both hands, pushing him back.  He lost traction on the slick mud and ice beneath his feet, falling to the ground.  In one fluid motion, I kicked the man’s wrist, causing his sword to drop from his grasp while parrying the blade of another one of the men. 

This is where I’d like to give a huge thank you to Chasus for training me to fight in any and all weather conditions.  I’ll never forget sparring with him on the slopes of the ice-capped Ravenspire Mountains through snow, rain, and wind. 

Briscott rushed up beside me, tackling one of the remaining men to the ground.  It wasn’t until I saw the man go down in my periphery that I realized his blade had been inches from giving me a reprieve from life. 

“Thanks,” I shouted, deflecting another attack. 

“No problem,” Briscott grunted as he wrestled with the man he’d tackled in the muddy slush of the street.

The man I fought was meeting me blow for blow.  With a forceful strike, I knocked his sword aside.  I quickly brought the pommel of my sword’s hilt back towards his head, connecting with his temple and sending him limp to the ground. 

The first man I’d fought was almost back to his feet, but I was able to deliver a sharp, spinning kick to his head to knock him back down, conveniently rendering him unconscious.  The third man was still pinned under Briscott with the fourth crumpled before Ithan.  We hadn’t killed any of them, and given that we were also still alive, I couldn’t have asked for a better victory.

“Let’s get these rocks out of their chests,” Briscott groaned, trying to hold the fourth man down.  The man’s eyes flared open and shone with what appeared to be hope.

“We can’t,” I answered regretfully.  “We’d risk killing them.  We have no medical supplies, and we don’t have the time for Ithan to heal them.”  Ithan nodded his head in agreement, and Fleet gave a flap of her wings as if to second the concept.

“Well, that’s too blighting bad.”  Briscott reared back and punched the man’s face, leaving four unconscious bodies around us. 

The scar on my chest burned as I took in the unfortunate men.  They’d just wanted to be free, whether by death or removal of the gem.  We couldn’t grant them that freedom yet, but maybe they’d live to see it if we could kill the one behind the rocks, even if that person was my father. 

I helped Briscott to his feet, and we all turned towards the battle.  No one seemed interested in diverting from the main fight to come after us, so we ducked between the houses where the men had come from.  We had to step over several dead bodies, none of them appearing to be twice-dead. 

To our right, the wall of a two-story house had a massive hole torn through its ground floor as if something large had crashed through it.  The boards around the edges of the hole were splintered and blackened.  Acrid smoke billowed out from the opening along with the groan of burning wood ready to collapse.

We stopped before the hole, making sure there were no enemy troops inside ready to emerge and attack.  I jumped back as a large wooden beam crashed to the floor just inside the hole with a boom and a shower of sparks. 

More than ever, I worried for Max’s and Sal’s safety.  The streets were packed with fighting, and the house next to us was far from the only one close to burning to the ground.  Terafall was a lost cause. 

“What now?” Briscott stared back towards the chaos along the main street, his dagger clenched so tightly in his gloved hand that his entire arm trembled.

Before I could answer, I heard a strange wail from the other side of the gaping hole beside us.  “Did you hear that?” I asked, my eyes trying to pierce the curtain of smoke inside.  Both Briscott and Ithan took a cautious step forward.  The wail sounded again.

“There’s a blighted baby in there!” Briscott screamed, his face a mask of terror.  He started to enter the building. 

I stopped him with a hand to his chest.  “Briscott, we can’t go in there.  You saw that fallen beam; this place is ready to collapse.  You’ll end up buried if the smoke doesn’t kill you first.”  I saw the sense in my words, but my heart wasn’t in them.  As they escaped my lips, I realized that there was no way I could let a baby die within that buring hell, no matter the danger of rescuing them. 

“I’m going in there, Korin,” Briscott declared, his eyes burning with pure resolve.  “I lost two children of my own, and nothing is going to stop me from preventing the same from happening to others.”  I dropped my hand from his chest, letting him shove past me.  I made to follow, but Ithan grabbed my cloak in his fist, holding me back.

“You’re not
both
risking your lives in there,” Ithan choked, the smoke thickening around us.  His reached up to grab Fleet, and the smoke cleared from the area in a sudden gust of wind.  He cast a regretful glance to the featherswift owl, making me realize for the first time that the bird that had been his companion for years had a very poor chance of making it through the day.  Ithan’s magic was most likely going to be called upon several more times if we were to make it out of Terafall alive.

Briscott’s rough coughing brought my attention back to the gaping hole in the building’s side.  He rushed forward with an ash-stained bundle, dodging around charred and burning debris.  That’s when it happened.

There was a loud snap followed by an ominous groan, and then the entire top floor started to collapse with Briscott still beneath it.  I remember screaming while Ithan struggled to hold me back.  I remember closing my eyes, unable to watch the death of my friend and the tiny life he was trying to save.  Then I remember noticing the glaring absence of the crash that should’ve sounded.

Opening my eyes, I was met with an unusual sight.  Actually, unusual really doesn’t cover it.  Charred wooden beams, flaming furniture, and other items burned beyond recognition danced in the air just above a cringing Briscott, who was huddled tightly over the baby held to his chest.  It took me a moment to realize that the debris was simply held back by an invisible barrier and was bouncing soundlessly against it.  Ithan watched with wide eyes and mouth agape, indicating that he’d had nothing to do with what was happening.  Briscott warily tilted his head to look above him, his own mouth dropping.

After a moment of stunned silence, I called, “Briscott, get out of there!”

Briscott snapped from his awe and ran to meet us.  Once he was safely out, whatever had held back the collapse faded, allowing the house’s upper floor to come crashing down with a near-deafening roar.  Dust, ash, smoke, and sparks violently billowed from the hole in a violent gust.  Scortching heat washed over us.  We retreated from the hole and away from the main battle.

As we all coughed the smoke from our lungs, I noticed something that I should’ve noticed sooner.  There was no sound or movement coming from the bundle in Briscott’s arms.  I didn’t have to point it out to the bearded Gualainian.

“Ithan, you have to do something,” Briscott urged, frantically unwrapping the blackened blanket from around the baby.  It seemed so tiny and frail, only a few weeks old at best.  Its skin was gray from ash, and some nasty charring edged with dark, crusted blood ran down its right arm.  Its eyes were closed.  Its chest was still. 

“We could be attacked at any moment.  We don’t have time to . . .”  Ithan trailed off, gazing at the poor, innocent infant in Briscott’s arms. 

The infant wasn’t even old enough to hold up its own head, and here it was thrust into a war, its parents probably dead in the crumbling house beside us.  It deserved more.  It deserved to live.  There’s something precious about the life of a child, something that validates any risk necessary to preserve it.

Ithan’s eyes shot up to Briscott and me.  “Keep me covered,” he ordered, reaching to take the infant from Briscott’s arms. 

Briscott’s eyes glistened, a solitary tear cutting through the black ash staining his face as he watched Ithan delicately lay the infant on the ground.  He pulled his dagger back out from its sheath and turned in the direction of the battle, watching for any sign of approaching enemies.

“You did well, Briscott,” I assured him, turning the opposite way with my sword in hand.  There were only two directions we could be approached from, and they were both firmly in our sights now.

“We’ll see,” he replied softly. 

Fleet let out a squawk behind me, bringing my thoughts back to the likelihood that her hours were numbered.  I hoped that Ithan was prepared for that possibility.  Given how I’d felt when I’d nearly lost Telis before, I understood just how close to family animals could become. 

“She is breathing!” Ithan announced with a strong sense of relief in his voice.  “She is not out of this yet, though.  I need a little more time, but she should live.”

Glancing down, I saw the baby’s stomach rise and fall with her breathing.  It was the most beautiful sight I’d seen in some time.  “Thank Aryllin,” I breathed unconsciously.  She’s the goddess of new life.

Briscott let out a relieved laugh, wiping at his teary eyes.  “Ithan, you’re a blighted miracle worker, Loranis bless you!  Don’t worry; we’ve got you covered.  Just make sure she’s okay.”

I turned my attention back towards the rear of the houses on either side of us.  “We’re looking good so far.  Maybe whatever saved Briscott and the baby back there didn’t use up all of our luck.” 

“Luck my furry ass,” a raspy voice groaned from behind me.

I turned towards the voice and saw Max emerging from the hole in the burning house’s wall.  “Max!” I yelled, running to meet him as he staggered forward, his fur stained pitch black.

“You owe me, Lunkhead,” he muttered before collapsing. 

I frantically scooped Max up in my free hand.  The Reservoir on his back was dull, a sign that it was completely empty of magic energy.  “Max!” I screamed again. 

Max’s eyes fluttered open.  “Can you not just let a tired rodent get some rest?” he groaned before closing his eyes again.  I laughed, happy for yet another sliver of good fortune.  I had nowhere to put his limp body, so I simply held him to my chest. 

A sudden thought struck me.  I stabbed my sword into the ground and frantically searched for Saiyre’s ring.  It was still fitted around one of Max’s front shoulders.  I slid it from his arm and over the tip of my first finger.  The ring itself wasn’t moving, but I could feel a slight pull against my finger.  The pull was directed towards the riotous battle we’d fled from.  I tried to not let my thoughts fill with fears of what that could mean.  I failed.

“He’s okay, and I have the ring,” I called to Briscott who was watching me with widened eyes.  “What?”

Briscott broke into a full-out charge towards me.  “Behind you!”  Without his warning—along with a bit of luck—these words would never have made it to paper. 

Not knowing what to expect, I yanked my sword from the ground and rushed forward, wanting to put some distance between me and whatever Briscott had seen before I turned to meet it.  Something snagged my cloak’s hood, though, stopping me dead in my tracks.  My cloak’s clasp dug chokingly into my neck as my feet slid out from under me on the snow-slicked mud.  I went down hard on my back, the air visibly knocked from my lungs in a great cloud of mist.  Miraculously, I was able to keep hold of Max.  He remained asleep. 
Seriously.