The Sorcerer's Return (The Sorcerer's Path) (7 page)

“We will camp here,” Azerick said as he slumped against a boulder.

“Do you think they will follow us?”

“I do not know. I
took us in more westerly direction this time and left a much smaller magical signature behind. Sandy is contaminating our trail as much as possible with her magic, which should make it much more difficult for them to follow us if they do decide to give chase. I need you to place some wards around our camp, at least two hundred yards out. Can you manage it?” he asked, his voice heavy with fatigue.

Ellyssa nodded. “I can set some detection wards. I’m too tired to set much in the way of anything offensive.”

“That will be fine. Raijaun can find us some food, can’t you, Raijaun?”

Raijaun showed his double row of needle-like teeth and bobbed his head excitedly. He darted off into the night in search of anything edible and too slow to avoid him. Ellyssa walked out into the night and set several wards she hoped were sufficient enough to alert them to any intruders
, yet subtle enough to avoid detection if any wizards chose to give chase.

It was a large perimeter
, and it was nearly an hour before she completed her task and returned to the camp. Azerick was still fetched up against his rock and did not respond to her approach. She did not know if he slept or was just too tired to acknowledge her. Raijaun returned a half hour later, looking depressed over his meager catch of a single hare.

“It’s all right, Raijaun, we’ll fin
d something more in the morning,” Ellyssa said encouragingly.

“You eat,” Raijaun said.

She smiled warmly. “No, we can share. You are growing and need it more than me.”

It was something of a lie. Her use of magic left her famished
, and she knew she could easily devour the scrawny rabbit by herself. Ellyssa gathered up a pile of dry shrubs and small sticks for a fire. She was just about to light it when something heavy dropped from the sky and thudded heavily onto the ground, raising a cloud of dust. Ellyssa jumped and let out a startled gasp. The sound of Sandy’s wing beats preceded her as she set down near the body of the small desert antelope she had just dropped.

”I thought you might be hungry after your battle,” Sandy said as she touched down.

“You scared me to death!”

“I also thought it might be funny to
almost hit you with a dead deer.”

Ellyssa glared at the dragon.
“Your humor has gotten really perverse lately. I think maybe you spend too much time with Wolf.”

“I won’t argue your point. He certainly has
a way of instilling bad habits.”

Ellyssa looked at the antelope and to her tiny fire pit. “I don’t think I can cook that even if I knew how to skin it.”

Raijaun Jumped up, pointed a finger at the corpse, and shouted, “Fire!”

Flame leapt from his outstretched hand, singed away all the hair, and charred the skin black. He danced around the smoking body, crowing his accomplishment.

“I hope you like your antelope well done,” Sandy remarked.

Azerick stirred from his rest and said, “Sandy, what a
re our Inquisitor friends up to?”

“They had just gotten themselves unstuck and were chasing after the horses I found and spooked back toward Argoth. It will probably take them the rest of the night just to catch them.”

“Excellent. Can you fly overhead and keep an eye on them while we rest? I want to make sure they keep heading southeast after they find their mounts. If you stay high enough, they will not be able to gauge your true size and call my bluff. Assuming, of course, they have not already deduced our little ruse.”

“I will.”

“Sandy, do you want to eat before you fly off?” Ellyssa asked.

“No, you can have it all. I can catch something while I’m watching those stupid wizards. I can also try out some of my new weather spells and make their ride home properly miserable,” Sandy replied
, grinning.

“Just be careful. They may be idiots
, but they are dangerous idiots.”

“She is right,” Azerick agreed. “You are big and you are strong, but you are far from your full potential. Even full grown, that many wizards would be dangerous
, and if you fly within range of their claws they could snatch you up and pull you into their maw.”

“I’ll be careful
,” Sandy promised before beating her wings and launching herself into the air.

“Do you want any of this?
” Ellyssa asked, indicating the meat Raijaun was currently tearing into strips and devouring.

Azerick’s stomach grumbled, apparently not completely free of the need, or at least
the desire, for food on this world. “Save me a bit. I will eat it in the morning. For now, I just need rest. The Inquisitors were not the only ones I was battling.”

“The demon?”

Azerick nodded wearily. “Yes. Active combat taps into some strong emotions. Emotions are the playground of demons like Klaraxis, and it gives him strength. That is another reason I do not wish a second fight with the Inquisitors.”

Ellyssa was beginning to feel the full effects of her own exhaustion as well, but hunger won the immediate war for attention. She scooted over to the charred antelope and peeled away the pieces lying between the burnt and raw layers.

Even with the knowledge of Sandy flying overhead keeping watch and the wards she placed around camp, sleep did not come easy despite her fatigue. Every time the weight of her eyelids dragged them closed, fear snapped them wide open and made her scan the shadows for enemies.

Azerick sensed her restlessness
. “Go ahead and sleep. Nothing will come near us without me or Sandy knowing it.”

Her nerves at least partially placated, Ellyssa was able to allow sleep to pull her into its embrace. She slept soundly despite
the battles her dream world brought. She did not fight Inquisitors, but horrific creatures that moved with the speed and ferocity of a Habberback hunting cat. But Azerick was there by her side as well as Sandy, Roger, and the other students from the school. Wave after wave of creatures leapt at them, snarling their hatred and slashing with short blades. The bodies piled up until they created a wall too high for her to see over, but still they came on. She did not wake until the whumping sound of Sandy’s beating wings pulled her from her nightmare.

Azerick was already up and eating, morosely picking over a haunch of meat. Sandy kicked up a cloud of dust as she set down.
Raijaun hopped up and down, clapping his hands at Sandy’s arrival. He ran over as soon as she landed and scratched at her scales.

“What are our friends up to?” Azerick asked once the dust settled.

“They buried six of their members last night. Half again as many wounded needed assistance walking. They did manage to find their horses and continued heading toward Argoth for as long as I watched them.”

“Good. It sounds like they chose a wiser course, although they may have second thoughts about it when they report their failure.”

“I spent the whole night pelting them with sleet to encourage them to keep moving. Their wards kept them dry, but it didn’t do anything for the road,” Sandy smirked.

“Thank you, Sandy. You did very well
. You can probably go home now if you like,” Azerick said.

“I can probably fly everyone back. It would be a lot faster,” Sandy offered.

Azerick shook his head. “I am a lot heavier than I look, and I have some things I need to prepare before I return home. Sandy, I am not ready for anyone to know I have come back yet, especially since The Academy is entrenched in my school. Please keep this a secret. I can only hope we beat home any word coming out of Argoth of my return.”

“I won’t say anything,” Sandy promised. “I will probably fly
around for a couple days and make sure those wizards don’t turn back.”

“I would appreciate it.”

Sandy took wing, kicking up another could of dust and grit, and quickly disappeared over the southern horizon. Azerick appeared lost in thought as he picked at his food.

“Are you feeling better?”
Ellyssa asked.

“Much. We will keep heading northwest. I expect to reach a town called Bruneford’s Mill near the northern region of the Habberback Plains in about four days. We will spend a couple days there to rest and give Raijaun some more exp
erience being around people.”

“He really
has calmed down a lot,” Ellyssa said as she looked over at Raijaun, who smiled at the attention.

“He has come further and far faster than I had hoped possible. His progression is truly astounding,” Azerick agreed as he continued to pick halfheartedly at his food.

“Is the meat not cooked to your liking?” Ellyssa asked jestingly.

“It is not what my body desires.”

“What does it want?”

Azerick’s lip twitched in response. “You do not want to know.”

CHAPTER 4

A million Scion minions clawed at the invisible wall of their prison, some taking out their pent up savagery and frustration on those weaker and close to them. High overhead, dozens of ships, not unlike regular sea-going vessels only sleeker and more angular, sat statically. Their crews paced the decks, anxiously awaiting the inevitable destruction of their prison walls.

In the center of the chaotic mass, floating amidst the ships and shining like a star, a crystal palace cast its radiance down upon the throngs. Tall and sleek like the
surrounding ships, its minarets stabbed at the black, starless sky like a many-pointed crystal dagger.

Five figures, tall, impossibly thin, and dressed in tight-fitting, broad shouldered, hooded robes occupied the vast central chamber of the crystal fortress. Here dwelled the Scions, also called the faceless ones due to their lack of facial features.
Only their large eyes broke the featureless plain of their faces, looking like two small galaxies replete with shining stars. They were the original gods of the world from which they were banished. The Scions looked out across a landscape as featureless as their faces. Hundreds of feet below, their vast army waited for the day the wall was destroyed, releasing them from their prison to wreak havoc upon the cursed races that turned against them. That day was fast approaching.

Doaz hovered over a flat-topped pillar ten feet across.
“
Brethren, something transpires.”

The other four Scions glided near and looked upon the image brilliantly displayed within the crystal surface.

“What is it?”
Xar asked.

“
I detect a weakness in the barrier.”

“
Can we breach it?”

“
For a moment. I sensed a curious use of magic not far from the flaw. It was powerful, by mortal standards, and may have contributed to the weakening. Do you feel it?”

“
We do,”
Zyn replied. “
It feels like the unusual creature Lissandra flaunted before us, does it not?”

“
It does,”
Kaz and Arhal both answered. “
Is he still near?”

“
I believe so, and two others who dare touch the power of the gods.”

“
This should prove interesting. Let us test the mettle of Lissandra’s replacement and see if he is worthy of the title Guardian.”

All five Scions laid their long, three-fingered hands upon the plinth and focused their energy into the crystal of their fortress.
A white ray of light with the power to destroy a mountain lanced out from the center spire, disintegrating over a hundred creatures crowded around the point of impact. The beam struck the shimmering barrier with the force of a comet. Excess energy exploded into the ranks of fleeing creatures, destroying hundreds more. The barrier trembled under the onslaught and began to waver where the beam continued to punish it.

With a final groan and massive clap of thunder, the ray punched through. The Scions
created a portal within the breach and ordered their minions through. Ravagers, the most plentiful of their troops, sprinted toward the fissure and hurled themselves into the rift before it sealed shut once again. The rift was open only a few seconds, but ravagers were frighteningly swift and nearly two hundred of the creatures darted through before the breach snapped shut, locking out the ones too slow to reach it and cutting the slightly faster ones in half.

The ravagers tore across the tall grass
blanketing much of the Habberback Plains, using their long arms to hurtle themselves forward like an ape with the speed and ferocity of a plains lion. However, they were not animals; at least, not in the classic sense. They looked like men with dark red skin, bald or bristly black hair, and carried short blades in each hand to slash their enemies to ribbons. Taut, corded muscles flexed and rippled across bodies covered with little more than a weapons belt and a loin cloth, if they wore even that much.

They were a locust of unparalleled terror, killing and devouring
every living thing in their path. A herd of antelope sensed the approaching predators before they ever saw them and bolted. Fleet of foot, the herd put some distance between them and the fearsome new creatures, but unlike the ravagers, they eventually tired. The ravagers tore into the exhausted animals and slaughtered them en masse.

Having lived on small animals and cannibalism
prior to this, the antelope provided a feast for the ravagers. However, it was a big herd and many of the antelope provided nothing more than the pleasure of killing. Their bellies full and their bloodlust only heightened, the ravagers continued racing for the town the humans called Bruneford’s Mill.

***

The caravan continued to travel after sunset in hopes of reaching Bruneford’s Mill before noon the next day. They carried a large load of iron, copper, and timber they would sell for coin and trade for the grains the plains were famous for producing. The road was good but not great, and the wagon master finally called them to a stop.

It took nearly an hour to move the hu
ge wagon train off the road and encircle them to provide a meager form of protection. In this case, the only protection they needed was from the frequent winds that often howled across the prairie, carrying mouthfuls of dust with every breath. One favorable thing about the plains was there was ample space to move the wagons and horses off the road and make camp.

“Aaron, picket you’re your horses on the north side away from the road. Let’s get those cook stoves going. Set some greenhorns to chocking the wagons. Last thing we need is some plain
s cat to spook the oxen,” Wagon Master Owen barked needlessly.

He had an experienced crew
, and everyone knew their job, but he had a job to do as well and he was certainly going to make sure everyone saw him do it. They would reach Bruneford’s Mill just before noon the following day if they left before sunrise. His job was almost halfway over and he looked forward to completing it. It was the largest caravan he commanded during the year. His commission from this venture would pay for the addition to his home, which he desperately needed with the new baby on the way. Owen sighed, feeling too old to be a father again, but he married a young woman and was still healthy despite cresting the hill of forty years.

He watched his people efficiently carry out their duties, barking out a few order
s every so often just to ensure they knew he was playing his part. Owen liked working with people he knew and who knew their job, because it made his a lot easier. Some seasons, he had a green crew and had to play both wagon master and nanny to ensure everything was done properly. It was less of an issue these last few years since most people who hired on to the Tower Trading Company stuck around. They paid the best and treated everyone properly, and only a fool went looking for better when you had a good employer.

Aaron, his guard captain, approached him from out of the darkness
, which was just now being broken by several campfires. Owen recognized him even before he could make out his face due to his peculiar gait. It was the walk of a man more accustomed to sitting a saddle than walking on his own legs.

“The horses are picketed and a quarter of my men posted around the camp, Owen,” Aaron informed the wagon master.

A quarter of the guards made for a light watch, but it was sufficient. The plains were a mostly peaceful place. The scattered tribes of plains barbarians were an honest folk and traded fairly. He actually looked forward to dealing with the ones who always intercepted his caravan en route to Bruneford’s Mill. They brought unusual trinkets, pelts, and carvings not found anywhere else in exchange for steel. Folks called them barbarians, but despite their crude living, they were more pleasant to deal with than many of his “civilized” countrymen.

“Excellent work as always, Aaron. The cooks should have them fed with
in the hour…do you hear that?” Owen asked, cocking an ear toward a rhythmic thrumming in the distance. “What is that, horses?”

The guard captain turned and listened. “The gait is wrong and too light to be horses. It’s
short and soft, like wolves.”

“There ain’t no wolves
on the plains, and the cats don’t move in a pack. Aaron, put your men on alert. I got a chill running up my spine cold enough to make my bones brittle.” Others in the camp heard the noise by now and were pausing in their duties to listen. “Don’t stand around gawking, people, put something in your hands and watch yourselves until we know what’s coming!”

Aaron returned with his helm firmly strapped in place and his sword in his hand. “The men are ready and using the wagons
for cover. Whatever is coming sounds fast and outnumbers my horses. Best to fight on the defensive if it comes to that.”

“You know best, Aaron. Whatever it is, it doesn’t sound like it’s slowing. Maybe it is just an animal herd and will run past.”

Barely two seconds passed between the first warning shouts before the ravagers leapt over the wagons and proceeded to slaughter the humans just beyond their feeble barriers. Crossbows thrummed, but only a few bolts found their marks before the terrifying creatures were amongst them.

“What in the abyss are these things
?” Aaron shouted.

“I think you got it right. Only the abyss could
spawn this,” Owen cursed.

Aaron was as capable as any man Owen had ever seen, but the ravager cut him down with little effort. He had
almost no time to process the death occurring around him before the creatures leapt upon him and ended his life. The battle was brief, and in just a few short minutes, a hundred and fifty men and women met a brutal end. The ravagers destroyed the wagons and killed any animal unable to flee, before turning eastward toward Bruneford’s Mill.

***

Azerick, Ellyssa, and Raijaun were spending their fourth night in Bruneford’s Mill. Ellyssa was asleep and Azerick wrote in his book, as he always did and would continue to do so until morning. Like Azerick, Raijaun needed little rest and was drawing letters and sigils on a piece of parchment.

It had been several days of travel to reach Bruneford’s Mill
, and they all enjoyed the decent rest and good food; Ellyssa did, at the very least. Azerick merely preferred being out of the elements, and Raijaun seemed immune to the hardships of travel.

Their journey was nearly halfway through
, and Azerick decided he would soon need to split his time from writing out his training manual and teaching Raijaun how to work magic. He was already working some small castings on his own. He had set a swath of plains grass on fire with a localized lightning storm, but Azerick and Ellyssa were able to quickly put it out. His son’s inherent knowledge and ability to call upon and weave multiple sources of magic amazed him. Azerick was eager to take the time to sit down with him and shape his raw talent into something more controlled.

Azerick put down his quill and listened. He thought he heard the faint sounds of distressed voices but was unsure. However, as he sent his senses out into the town
, he found an undeniable tension in the air. There was violence being enacted and on a large scale. It called to his demonic nature like the insistent allure of an ardent lover.

“Ellyssa, get up,” Azerick called out hurriedly.

Ellyssa stirred and sat up. “What is it?” she asked groggily.

“Trouble. Quick, throw something
warmer on, and grab your pack. We may have to leave town quickly. Raijaun, stay close to me no matter what.”

Azerick
packed up their meager belongings and the Codex while Ellyssa threw a sturdy cloak over her shoulders before following him out of the room. The cries throughout the town were now clearly distinct, and other patrons of the inn began shuffling out of their rooms, their nervousness evident on their faces and in their voices.

“What’
s happening?” a serving maid who lived at the inn asked.

“I’m not sure, but I suggest you all stay in your rooms and lock the doors,” Azerick advised
before he stepped out into the night.

Screams of sheer panic
and the smell of smoke assaulted them the moment Azerick opened the door of the inn. Far more people than would normally be out at this hour ran wildly through the streets. Men raced through town with weapons in their hands while women fled in the other direction holding babes.

“Azerick, what is happening?” Ellyssa asked anxiously.

“Something is violently attacking the town. I can feel the people’s terror and death. Whatever it is, it is awful.”

“Are we going to help them?”
Ellyssa asked.

The internal conflict so evident on Azerick’s face and posture shocked her. She remembered the Azerick who would have leapt to the defense of these people without hesitation. This new Azerick was cold, dispassionate, and he scared her.

Ellyssa breathed a sigh of relief when he answered, “Yes. Keep Raijaun close. I do not know what is attacking the town, but I feel the Scions’ hand in it, and I doubt he can protect himself from whatever they are.”