Taerak's Void (Fantastica Book 1) Page 8

  Instinct told him to spur Prism down the road and try to outrun them. His horse was eager and able, and Braxton was sure that the black bundle of energy could gallop the rest of the night, but he knew Nixy was close. But where?

  He peered into the darkness, looking all around. He didn’t want to leave her, but when he looked over his shoulder behind him, he caught the glint of steel reflecting in the distance and knew he no choice.

  He was just about to spur Prism into action when a piece of deadfall hit him in the face.

  "Pssst! Hurry you idiot.” He heard Nixy's voice. Then an arm reached out of the trees, grabbed Prism's bridal and led the horse into the woods.

  He wasn’t even sure if he was clear of the road when several horses went thundering past, but he was relieved when they didn’t stop and were soon out of earshot and gone.

  "That was close.” He could barely make out her excited grin. "They will figure out what we've done soon, so we have to hurry." With that, she hopped back onto Bolt and led them deeper into the woods.

  Braxton had to keep his hand up to block his face from the limbs that snapped back at him. Luckily, Prism picked his way through the foliage behind Bolt well enough without his help.

  "Why are they after us?" Braxton whispered.

  "They are after you, not me," she answered just as softly.

  "Why?" He asked.

  "One of those wagons we were going to travel with carried a student of magus from the Sorcerious. He told Baragon, the leader of the guards, that you stole the amulet you are wearing. He set a reward of a hundred gold pieces to kill you and return it."

  "What would an Old One want with me?" Braxton asked defensively. "I have a letter from a master at the Hall of Scholars in Camberly. It is to be presented to an Old One called Debain at the Sorcerious."

  "He was no Old One, just a student." She paused, stopped Bolt, and turned to look Braxton in the eyes. "They will not care about your letter. Most of the mercenaries in Baragon's crew can't read their own names, but they know what a hundred pieces of gold will buy. Only a few of us noticed the little flash you made, but he felt it. I saw his face, and it shocked him, for until it happened, he wasn’t looking anywhere near you." She turned back and resumed progress. "Whatever magic you are carrying around your neck, he wants it badly enough to have you killed for it."

  "Why didn’t you sell me out?" Braxton asked sarcastically. "A hundred pieces of gold would feed a lot of children."

  She stopped again, and this time he could see her face more clearly. Her expression was fierce. "I'll not take part in blood money, nor will my family. The coins I collected for those road thieves went to the children because one of the little girls there is an orphan because of those two. I make the orphanage money honorably, by providing safe passage to people on roads that our mighty king should be protecting. As for you—" Her expression softened considerably. "I know you didn't steal that, and well…well, Braxton Bray, I happen to like you."

  Chapter Twelve

  Just after fording the river, in the middle of the night, Braxton caught the low-hanging branch of a fire thorn tree right in the face. He must have ended up unconscious for a short time because he came to, hanging over Prism's saddle like one of the bandits, only without all the ropes.

  They made their way through the darkened forest with Nixy on foot, leading Bolt and Braxton laying over Prism's back. He did his best not to make any noise, but with a saddle threatening to shake out his every breath, the occasional grunt was unavoidable. His face burned horribly, and his right eye felt like it was punctured and dripping. He eventually managed to resituate himself in the saddle and leaned forward without distracting Nixy from her deep concentration. He imagined it was hard for her to tell where they were going considering it was so dark he couldn't see past his hand with his good eye.

  These woods were definitely not a place Braxton wanted to get lost in.

  A new, sharper pain ripped through his eye, sending another flood of liquid down his face. He was worried he might lose it, but they were in no position to stop and light a brand to look at it.

  Better to lose my eye than lose my life, he told himself grimly.

  He couldn't help but scratch at the burning thorn pricks on the rest of his face, either. Finally, just a short while before dawn, Nixy stopped and looked to see what she could do for Braxton.

  They were in a small clearing that was well shielded and on the opposite side of the river from the road. Nixy said she was tempted to start a small fire for light, but after a long careful look at the sky, she told him it wouldn’t be that long until the sun came up. Then she could see how bad his injury really was.

  She helped him down from his horse's back and laid him on a blanket. "The poison from the fire thorn tree is burning through your system," she said. "It will take its own sweet time, but eventually, it will burn itself out. I'm more worried about your vision than the fever."

  "How bad does it look?" he managed.

  "Not good.” She plucked something from his cheek. "It looks like a chunk of bloody broken glass."

  He wasn't sure he understood her answer for the world, at least the parts of it he could make out, started to spin.

  "I wish we were going in the other direction," she went on. "To the west, in the Little Mountains, only two days from where we left the main road, there is another monastery. If we made it there, they would give us refuge and you would have time to heal."

  "Why not?" Braxton managed, but was still struggling to make out what she was saying.

  "Circumstances dictated otherwise. We had to go east between the split of the river. I guess we will follow the eastern branch down to the Stell crossing bridge, but with your injury, by the time we make it there, Baragon might have men waiting. Our only real hope is for you to be able to travel so we can make Stell before anyone receives word of the bounty. Either way, you’re not going to the Sorcerious anytime soon."

  "I canss travool.” Braxton heard his words slur. They sounded like someone else had spoken them.

  "I wish there was more I could do for you.” She sighed, and then he felt her place a damp cloth on his forehead.

  When Braxton woke, he was laying in the middle of a clearing. The sun was directly over him, and it was hot and blinding. It wasn’t just the oppressive humidity radiating out from under the trees, and it wasn’t the blistering rays shining down on him. The heat was coming from inside his body, as well. He was on fire and needed water. He tried to get up, but couldn’t, so he shielded his eyes from the fiery ball overhead and tried to at least look around.

  When he opened his wounded eye, molten shock shot through his head, and he screamed. The pain took his breath away and nearly sent him back into unconsciousness. Then, the memory of the thorny branch digging into his face came back to him.

  "Here, drink.” Nixy's soft voice came from close by. Through his closed eyes, he felt as much as saw the beaming sun eclipsed from above him. She was hovering over him, shading him.

  "Shade and water," he said weakly.

  "Water first," she said and poured a little on his parched lips. "Open your mouth." He gulped half of the skin down. It helped cool his radiating body, if only a little bit. With Nixy's help, he eventually got to his feet. He kept his eyes closed and let her lead him to a place in the shade. He waited patiently while she spread out her blanket and helped him onto it.

  "Your face looks a lot better," she said softly, running the cool, damp cloth over it.

  "Better than what?"

  "Better than you did before. How's your eye?" she asked a few minutes later, but slumber had already taken hold of him and he could not find the strength to answer.

  Sleep was tormented by nightmare images of demons and bloody crystals. Mercenaries with glowing eyes chased him through a never-ending desert that was as hot as a skillet. Sometime during his sleep, the sun went down and the desert of his dreams turned into a dark forest road full of vicious monsters. Shadows chased him through moonl
ight filled with ghouls and skeletons, driving burning wagons into cities full of hungry corpses. In the dream, he ran and ran. His pursuers followed him like the smoke trail from a torch. Finally, he came to a cliff, and without even thinking, he jumped off it. His body crackled with energy as he fell through a misty cloud. His skin was glazed with wetness. His fall, however, was short and ended with a splash into a cool mountain pool. When he surfaced, he looked up to see the terrible Octerror from the cave reaching out for him.

  "Oh, my goodness.” Nixy's voice broke into his vision. "How beautiful."

  He squinted open his good eye to find a strange hawk perched on his chest. The medallion tingled under his shirt. He could feel it clearly. The hawk's feathers were ivory white and, to his great surprise, it looked him in the eyes and spoke to him.

  "Pharark the demon has escaped his imprisonment.” The bird shook its head and preened a feather on its shoulder. "There isn't much time. Pharark grows stronger with each day that passes. The elves are your best hope. They will help you."

  "I can't believe it," Nixy said, stepping into the clearing. Braxton wasn't sure if he was still dreaming or not, but then the hawk leapt into flight, flapping its wings loudly right above his face as it went.

  If the white hawk had amazed Nixy, then Braxton's story of the Octerror he had wounded in the cavern where he found the medallion and the book left her stupefied. His recovery from the fire tree needle was what she called miraculous. He wasn't sure she believed a word of it. In fact, if she hadn't seen the white hawk, he might have thought that was part of his strange dreams.

  When he said he needed to go directly to Jolin now, to hold council with the elves, she just looked at him slack-jawed and scratched her head.

  Telling it all to Nixy felt good. It somehow felt right, and Braxton was pretty sure he hadn't left anything out, save for his private encounters with Master Bee.

  But what now? he wondered as he waited on a response.

  To his great surprise, she held her tongue as she mulled it over. Then she simply said, "I suppose I can get you to the coast since I never got you to Halden."

  According to Nixy, the fastest and most sensible path to get a ship to Jolin would be heavily watched by the mercenaries who were trying to kill him. At least she didn't act like he'd gone mad.

  He hoped she could come up with a way to get there without conflict, but conflict or no, and with or without Nixy's help, Braxton was bound for Jolin, for that is where the elves were, and even the strange hawk agreed. The elves were who he needed to see.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The morning was bright, and Braxton could still feel a tingling sensation coursing through his body. His eye wasn't giving him any problems, and though it was mottled, his face was back to its normal shape. Nixy said that all she could see of his wounds were three thorn pricks on his cheek.

  Since Braxton was able to see, he could ride. Nixy suggested they stick to the river's edge and go to Stell without stopping. They had a fair enough chance of getting there before their descriptions did, especially if they rode day and night and only made stops to eat and rest the horses. Thanks to the medallion's power, or maybe the white hawk, Braxton felt like he could run the whole way on his own two feet, but there was no sense in doing that.

  For quite some time, the going was rough and tedious because the forest reached all the way out to the river's edge. Sometimes the water was shallow enough in these places that they could wade until the forest receded, but in most cases, the river's deep, main channel skirted the forest, and they were forced to dismount and lead Prism and Bolt through the dense foliage until a lane presented itself.

  Around midday, their luck changed for the better. The forest pulled way back from the bank, leaving a wide grassy area that was free of low-hanging limbs and soft mushy soil. They took full advantage of this by riding at a full gallop until well after dark, when they both decided a brisk trot would be a lot safer.

  The night was warm, and the trees blocked most of the breeze but, occasionally, it found its way to them, and its touch was welcome and cooling. Braxton saw the small moon, low in the southern sky, when the trees were willing. Never in his life had he been able to pick out so much detail. In Uppervale, it's short arc across the horizon was always hidden by the mountains. It was a reddish murky color, but ever-changing with dark, swirling blood-colored clouds spinning their way around the pale orange sphere. It looked like a storm constantly raged across its angry pocked surface.

  The larger of Narvoza's two moons was high above them. Its more hospitable light seemed kind in comparison. It allowed Braxton and Nixy and more importantly their horses to see clear enough that they were able to maintain a steady pace. They only had to stop once. The horses caught their breath while Braxton and Nixy ate and drank.

  "Will you continue on to Jolin with me?" Braxton asked after a long sip from a water skin.

  Nixy didn’t answer immediately. She chewed the food in her mouth before asking a question of her own. " Is that a question, an invitation, or just curiosity?"

  "All that, I guess.” Braxton shrugged, thinking he shouldn’t be wanting her to come along so badly, but yet he was. There was no denying he liked her company.

  "I'm not sure," Nixy answered with a shrug of her own.

  "It might get dangerous," Braxton said, more to keep the conversation going than any other reason.

  "If I go, that will be why," she said, then quickly added, "You'll probably need someone to watch your back."

  "That's true, but I want you to go." The words just came out of his mouth. He wasn’t sure if he regretted saying them or not, but the next few moments were agonizingly intense while waiting for her to respond. To his disappointment, she never really did.

  "Come on," she said without betraying anything. "It's time to go."

  They rode across the bridge into Stell just a half day later than they would have reached Halden, if their pursuers hadn't deterred them from their original destination. Baragon's men surely had enough time to at least get word to others in Stell. They might have had enough time to organize a welcoming party for them, but Nixy was doubtful that Baragon had any men efficient enough to do something that required that much planning that quickly. Nevertheless, they went about the business of getting to the harbor to search for a ship going to Jolin.

  On the dock, Braxton noticed a hooded man standing in the shadows. He might have been eavesdropping on their inquiry to the harbor master. When Braxton looked his way a second time, he was gone.

  They searched most of the evening and found captains willing to take them to nearly any known port, but none that would take them to Jolin. The harbor master explained they would probably have to go to Halden to find a ship to take them there. But as evening approached, they found a medium-sized craft full of Nepramese goats, casks of liquor, and crates full of salted fish that were all destined for elf land. The ship had been brought to their attention by a rude fisherman who smelled so awful Nixy had to excuse herself from his presence.

  The craft was called Luck of the Little, and the captain was a short, stocky, barrel-chested man, with long red hair and a beard that reached all the way down to his beltline. He was obnoxious and very loud. His expression was jovial, as if he was about to burst into laughter any moment. His name was Captain Pickerell.

  "What ye want with elves, boy?" he asked loud enough for everyone on the docks to hear.

  "Important, but private business," Braxton replied as politely as possible.

  "I'll take ye for three pieces of gold, five if you're bringing that fine-looking horse." He then narrowed his brows in what might have been warning. "But if the elves don’t want ye to stay, you'll have to pay again for me to bring ye back. Otherwise, you'll have to swim." He bellowed out a laugh then that sounded as humorous as it did crazy.

  "I have a friend, too," Braxton said uneasily, looking around for Nixy but not seeing her. He hoped she was coming. He hoped she hadn't ridden off to get away from him.
Deciding to give her the benefit of the doubt, he finished his negotiation. "She also has a horse."

  "That'll be ten Narvozian crowns.” Captain Pickerell's eyes lit up when Braxton took out his pouch and began counting.

  "We leave at high tide, which is just past midnight," the captain told him, taking the coins. "I won't wait on ye." Only after the coins were cinched in his pouch, he added, "I'm keeping this, even if you change your mind."

  Braxton set out looking for Nixy. At first, he was excited and eager, but after not seeing her anywhere, he began to worry. The idea that she might have ran off and left him, and that he'd never see her again, gave him a sickly feeling, but his concern for her wellbeing overrode his selfish fear. He hoped the mercenaries hadn't grabbed her. They could be torturing her to find out where he was this very moment.

  Panic started to take hold. He didn’t know if he should begin searching in earnest, or stay close to where she left him in case she returned. Dusk was quickly approaching, and he decided if she hadn't returned by full dark, he would put Prism on Luck of the Little and search until it was time for the boat to leave. Only then would he decide if he would leave her behind.

  Thoughts of her being tortured by the mercenaries took hold again. What do I do? Where has she gone?

  "Boo," Nixy said from behind him, causing his heart to explode through his chest. A wave of relief washed away all his anxiety, and he smiled, fighting the urge to pull her into a hug.

  "Where have you been?" His question was demanding.

  "None of your business.” Her tone showed she didn't like his question, but then she paused. "Oh, you were worried for me." Her mouth curled in a smile.