The Sorcerer's Return (The Sorcerer's Path) (34 page)

“He must be near. Daebian!” Miranda called out.

The riders listened for a moment before deciding to dismount. Miranda and Allister peered into the woods while Rusty and Alex climbed over the log and searched beyond. A tiny reflection of light twinkled several yards off the trail and down a small ravine.

“I think I see something,” Alex called out and began picking his way down the slope. “I found him! Rusty, bring that light closer.”

Daebian lay in a pool of blood long dried and soaked into the ground. His face was deathly pale and a large gash split the top of his head where it had struck a rock when he fell.

“My s
on! Is he alive?” Miranda begged, her tears flowing freely.

Allister climbed down to him and knelt. “Aye, but he’s bad off. We need to get him to Brother Thomas as quickly as we can.”

Wolf sprinted through the forest as quiet and invisible as a shadow with Ghost easily padding along beside him. The soldiers guarding the gate instantly recognized him and did not bother to challenge the half-elf before letting him pass. It took only a frantic moment for Wolf to find Peck nervously brushing Newmoon’s black coat.

“Peck, they found Daebian,” Wolf said, only slightly winded from his miles-long dash.

“Is he alive?”

“Yes, but he cracked his head pretty hard on a rock when he fell." Wolf recognized Peck’s unease and the doubt clouding his face. “That’s what you wanted wasn’t it?”

“I guess so. I don’t know. It all sounded a lot better when it was just words.”

“Well
, I for one am only sorry he didn’t die. Now we have to deal with what happens if he wakes up.”

“You think he’ll wake up?” Peck asked nervously.

“They’re bringing him to Brother Thomas, so it’s pretty likely unless Sharellan calls him home. I’m pretty sure they have to be related.”

“I have to talk to Brother Thomas!”

Wolf did not wait around as Peck darted out of the stables. He figured it was a good idea to stay away from the school for a while. Peck ran across the compound to the church, leapt the steps leading to the front doors, and raced inside. He found Brother Thomas blowing out the candles and tidying up after the evening prayers.

“Peck, is everything all right?” he asked as peck burst into the room and almost went sprawling across the carpet.

Peck shook his head vigorously. “Daebian fell from his horse and hit his head!”

“Is he in the infirmary now?” Thomas asked urgently and made to hasten away.

Peck grabbed his arm and stopped him. “No, they’re bringing him in now. Thomas, it’s my fault he fell! I made the horse buck and throw him.”

“What do you mean? Explain that.”

Peck told the priest everything; how Daebian was abusing his horses and the animals in the woods. He told him of how he was afraid of what Daebian would do if he did not stop him.

“Peck, I have known you a long time, and I do not think there is a mean bone in your body. I understand how you may have felt that what you did was your only choice, but there were other ways. What you did was wrong.”

“Do you think Daebian will recover?”

“I cannot say for certain until I see him, but I would say it is likely.”

Peck looked plaintively into Brother Thomas’ eyes. “If he finds out I did this, he will kill me.”

“Peck, as angry as he may be, I doubt he is going to kill you.
Daebian is a bit intense, but he has always seemed to me to be a friendly young man.”

“You don’t
understand. You don’t know what he is like. That is why his evil is so insidious! He smiles at everyone and sings and pretends to be nice, but bad things happen to anyone who angers him.”

Thomas quirked a doubtful eyebrow at peck. “That sounds like a lot of conspiracy talk to me.”

“What about that boy who just happened to fall off the wall and just happened to get his sword arm crushed the same night he beat Daebian senseless and insulted him?”

Thomas remembered that night well. It was rather suspicious. Daniel had been walking the wall for
at least two years, as well as hundreds of others, all without an incident. Daebian had been so young he had dismissed any thoughts of foul play, but he was a very unusual boy in many ways. There was something troubling about Daebian, but Thomas was afraid he was feeling some sort of subconscious prejudice against his demonic heritage and tried to ignore it.

“Even if what you say has any truth to it, what would you have me do? I cannot refuse to aid him.”

Peck’s shoulders slumped and his face fell. “I know. Maybe you could just make him rest a while, just until Azerick gets back. I can’t keep him from hurting me, but I have a plan to protect my horses. I just need time for Azerick to come home.”

“I don’t know when Azerick is going to be back. I don’t think even he knows when he will be back.” Thomas sighed. “I won’t force him to rest
, and I won’t abuse the tenants of my faith or conscience, but I can give you time. How much will depend on Daebian’s own powers of recovery.”

“Thank you, Thomas.”

“All right, let’s get to the infirmary.”

Peck had no intention of being around when they brought Daebian in and returned to his horses. Brother Thomas had just entered the infirmary and made sure there was a bed with fresh sheets and blankets ready when Miranda burst in just a few steps ahead of Rusty and Alex who were carrying Daebian between them.

“Thomas, thank the gods you are here!” Miranda exclaimed as she ushered the men to lay her son on the bed.

“Thank the gods, sure, why not?” Thomas muttered.

“He took a fall from his horse today,” Rusty explained. “He’s been lying unconscious for several hours.”

Thomas held his hands palms down
with his fingers extended above Daebian’s body and began chanting a soft prayer. He guided his hands up and down the boy’s form, paying particular attention to his head. Thomas dropped his hands to his sides and spoke to Miranda.

“He broke three ribs and his left arm. The greatest concern is obviously his head injury. It is very severe.”

“Can you help him?” Miranda begged.

“Of course, but head injuries like this can be problematic. It is not a good idea to try and heal it all at once. Trying to heal it too quickly can cause damage to the brain, so it is best to do it slowly and let him wake up on his own.”

“How long will it take?”

“It’s impossible to say. Much will depend on his natural rate of recovery. Even without his unique physiology, it is not possible to make a realistic estimate.”

“Please, do what you can.”

Thomas raised his hands and began chanting once more. Healing energies radiated from his hands like static electricity and gave off a feint white nimbus of light.
The bones knitted almost instantly, but the injury to Daebian’s brain was far from simple. The gods rarely made things easy for their followers, even their cherished Chosen. Thomas sensed the bruising and bleeding inside Daebian’s head and used his mystical energy to revive the damaged tissue and stitch the tiny veins and capillaries back together.

“
I have done as much as I think should be done for now. I will tend to him each day until he is better. With any luck, he wake and be on his feet again in a week or so.”

Miranda embraced the priest. “Thank you, Thomas.”

Daebian floated in a black sea of nothingness, slowly bobbing on gentle waves of oblivion. It was soothing and warm like the soft hands of a loving mother cradling her baby. That must be it. He was back in the womb, protected from the painful outside world. A pale light glowed far away in the starless sky and he became aware.

“Where am I?”

Trapped within the confines of your mind, much like I am with your father.

“Why aren’t you trying to dominate me, take control of my body?”

Because I cannot. I still exist within your father. A fragment of my essence exists within the gem set in your blade. Neither of them exists within you. I speak to you now only through our shared connection with the soul stone.

“How did I get here? What happened?”

The answer lies within you.

Daebian began fitting the shattered pieces of his memory together. Bit by bit they began to create a mosaic inside his mind. The mosaic animated and he saw the forest, Newmoon racing along the trail, leaping over the log. The horse suddenly bucked and twisted. Daebian was flying once more. The horse had startled and thrown him. On instinct, he closed his eyes and the mosaic vanished. Hoof beats thundered in his ears. The gently rocking became stronger, no longer the slow rise and fall of a low swell
s but the hurried gait of a galloping horse. For a brief second, all was silent except for the wind rushing past his ears as Newmoon leapt.

A pine thrush called out. Newmoon bucked and twisted and Daebian went flying. No. He felt his body stop then rush backward.
His legs tightened against the saddle again. Stop. Forward. Newmoon leapt, the bird tweeted loudly, and he was airborne. Back, leap, trill, fall. Back, trill, fall. Back, trill. Trill. The call was wrong. Near the end, the whistle rose in pitch and held, too high, too long.

“Gloom!” Daebian called out into the blackness. “
I need your eyes!”

Daebian could not see Gloom, but he felt
his presence. The forest appeared once more, now looking more like a fine painting than a tiled mosaic. He was higher and saw the world with amazingly sharp contrast even compared to his normal acute vision, displaying more shades of color than he thought existed. He saw himself below; hugging the horse’s broad back as he galloped along the trail. Newmoon jumped, the pine thrush trilled off-key, Daebian flew from the horse’s back and landed several yards away down the short ravine.

A shadow moved within the bushes. Daebian looked intently
, but even Gloom’s eyes failed to see what had moved. He swooped lower and studied the ground. There in a soft patch of soil was half of a print—a wolf print. Daebian had his culprit. No, culprits, and he did not mean Ghost. Wolf did not have the time, nor did he think the inclination, to train the horse to react to the modified bird call.

“It would seem Peck has more spine and wits than I gave him credit for.”

You will recover from this. When you do, you must destroy him and the half breed!

“I could do that. Or I could not.”

Will you allow your foolish sentiments to keep you from retaliating against those who just tried to kill you?
Klaraxis demanded, furious at the boy.

“It has nothing to do with sentiment, demon. It is about you understanding that you will not now, nor will you ever, dictate my actions. I do what I want, when I want, and why I want. Why I
might
choose to let them live is not for you to question. Their time is coming, but it must not be hastened. All things happen for a reason.”

Bah, you sound like a priest!

“Or a god.”

Klaraxis laughed.
You are certainly ambitious, but you are no god. However, I may know of a way to become one.

“Become a god?”

Perhaps, or at least be godlike. I know of an item that can steal the soul from any creature, man or god. You could slay a god, even your father.

“The sweet words of a demon, the prince of lies.”

I am being true to you. I will not tell you it will be easy. In fact, it will be quite perilous to attain the weapon. You also cannot do it on your own.

“What makes acquiring this weapon so dangerous? Is it guarded by a dragon or some such?”

Worse; by the most powerful demon lord in all of the abyss. The soul blade is in my citadel within the Fifth Circle.

“It sounds a bit out of reach to me.”

To you, most definitely, but perhaps not for your brother.

“My brother would never help me, especially with something like that. He is too much his father’s son, too kind-hearted.”

Perhaps you will find a way to use that softness to your advantage.

“
Most definitely.”

***

“Is the gate clear?” Azerick asked Roger through speaking gem.

Roger double checked both sides of the gate and saw that the guards were doing a good job of blocking traffic. “It’s all clear.”

Azerick fed arcane power into the massive stone pillars now framing one of the primary gates in Brelland. A shimmering screen appeared within the massive portal and resolved to show a crowd of spectators being held in check by a squad of City Watch. Azerick nodded to a shepherd who began herding two dozen sheep through the portal.

This was the last of three magical gates connecting Brelland and North Haven. On instinct, Azerick had decided at the last minute to pay a sheep rancher to move some of his herd through the portal. That decision had saved his life. These gates were
much larger and more complex than the one he made outside Southport and had far less margin for error. The number of magical strands connecting the two gates increased by a multitude of factors. The first results had been unpleasant for several unfortunate sheep.