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Authors: Keri L. Salyers

Dusk Falling (Book 1) (35 page)

BOOK: Dusk Falling (Book 1)
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In the spare moment the mage had had to study the intruder who’d wandered into the mountains he had not been impressed physically. In fact, it looked to be nothing more than a kid. It was the other aspect that had Yukarim’s hair standing on end- the kid wasn’t trying to hide his presence in the very least. Actually, it almost seemed like he was using his high energies to scare away the creatures that might be around into hiding. Whatever he was, the kid had talent to spare.

“You might as well come out.”

Yukarim started. Did the kid know where he was or was he bluffing?

“I can hear you breathing, worm.”

Yukarim cursed. “I guess it can’t be helped now.”

The Bren got to his feet and stepped out into view. The kid below focused on him immediately with a fierceness that provoked Yukarim to consider a barrier. Face smudged with dirt, long hair the color of fresh snow ragged from lack of care and clothing that looked to have gone through a war, it was his eyes that instilled fear. He was of Elven blood but not all, mixed but definitely of Elven kin.

They stood in silence regarding one another then the boy made a disgusted face. He began to walk away as if Yukarim was no longer of any interest.

“H-hey!” Yukarim shouted. He scrambled halfway down from the outcropping, using a low-level levitation spell to slow his decent as he dropped from the last ten feet.

“Don’t push your luck, human. I’m in a fairly forgiving mood for now but you are trying my patience.”

“Wait, who are you and what are you doing here?”

The kid paused. “You sure you want to know that?” The grin he flashed over his shoulder was malignant. There was a feverish glint to his amber eyes, one that said perhaps the strange boy did not have all his faculties in order. Yukarim had seen the look before. Thabinthira often inspired such madness.

Faster than Yukarim could move, the boy threw something at him without turning. The Bren’s shield came up at his bidding just in time and a small explosion rocked him back on his feet. On instinct Yukarim had brought up his arms to protect his face and when he lowered them he could have swore he saw glowing black runes on the other’s forearms un-write themselves on his skin.

The Elfkin wasted no time after that, sprinting forward as Yukarim foolishly dropped his barrier. He led off with spheres of dark magic, aimed low to unbalance his opponent. When Yukarim predictably danced back out of the way to keep from losing his feet, the boy went for the quick kill with hands that had turned into dark claws.

The sword he had kept in his hand instead of belting to his side saved Yukarim’s life. It had been a fluke but ultimately luck since there would have been no way he could have unsheathed it in time.

The unforeseen block found the attacker wide-open and Yukarim sacrificed style for speed, igniting the air between them in a flashfire to force the boy out of the mage’s direct vicinity.

A ‘normal’ opponent might have been discouraged after such a spell or at least give pause but not this one. He bounded out of harms way and the moment the fire spell dissipated he leapt back in heedless of the sparks.

His movements were not predictable, forcing Yukarim into a defensive position and then finally to rely on a barrier when blocking became too difficult.

Claws rebounding of the blue-tinted bubble, the boy circled, waiting for the shield to come down. “Are you going to continue to hide like a weak coward or are you going to fight me?”

No one had ever called Yukarim weak. No one had ever called him a coward either. Perhaps it was that or a combination of both that had Yukarim dismissing the protection shield. His eyes grew focused, serious. “Okay, demon, let’s have it out. Now. Whoever wins,” Yukarim said, “keeps his life.”

“I won’t be letting you walk away from this.”

Talent and schooling would only get one so far. Little prepared Yukarim for such an intense battle. He used his wits as much as his own body- running and dodging lightning fast onslaughts. His opponent was quick on his feet, more so than Yukarim himself, and switched from long range to short whenever the whim struck. He was also not slowed by any pain inflicted upon him.

Around the time Yukarim came to see none of the spells he used (though of a low-level due to time constraint) were doing any damage, he began to worry. He was growing tired from constantly being on the run. He needed to finish this but the Elfkin was not giving him any preparation space.

But Yukarim had been at the top of his class, the most admired and respected of all the students, he would not lose that easily. He would need to be… creative.

Speed was not something the pale-haired youth could be beat with- the trethen created spells like he was pulling them from a pocket- so the Bren would have to do it with ingenuity and pure strength. The Bren rolled left as
the boy leapt at him, claws stabbing downward, and came up at a run. A simple air spell saw him to the outcropping he had been hiding behind not too long ago, a place he wished he’d remained hiding in for all the trouble it brought him.

Yukarim knew his next two-step attack would cost him but didn’t have the option of anything safer. Feet finding firm purchase, he cast a water torrent spell at the same moment the boy attacked with the spell Yukarim predicted he would from that distance. The ground below the rocks erupted in geysers, startling the Elfkin with their sudden appearances and the soaking waters.

It was all the pause the Bren mage needed. He called in lightning from out of thin air. It hit the watery ground before the boy could escape out of the way. The electricity raced through the water and, with a painful cry, felled the Elfkin into unconsciousness.

The boy’s spell had not missed but it hadn’t been dead-on either otherwise Yukarim would have been just that: dead. The dark sphere glanced off his shoulder before detonating on the rocks behind him. His arm and chest dripping blood as he slowly made his way down from the outcropping, Yukarim stared down at the boy for several minutes before taking sword in hand. “I know this is what I should do, so why is it I am hesitating? Dispatching something so dangerous… I mean
someone
…a meer child.” He bent to study the face of the Elfkin, noting the gray skin around the eyes he had originally took as signs of weariness, sleep-deprivation brought on by unknown stress. Asleep, he looked a lot less dangerous. “If he is possessed of Thabinthira’s Taint, it is probably best to simply end it here. The look of his eyes suggests he may have spent more than a sane amount in those lands but with such an uncanny talent and sense of precision and foresight, he can’t be completely gone, can he?”

The water evaporated and Yukarim found himself hauling the unconscious Elfkin over his uninjured shoulder. The boy didn’t weigh much, which was great for Yukarim in the condition he was in. Back at his cabin, Yukarim settled the limp form on the cot that served as his meager bed and pulled the blanket up. He soaked a wash clothe in cold water and folded it onto the boy’s forehead. The wounds received were no longer evident anywhere on his body.

The Bren mage’s however still stung. Thinking himself an utter fool, he began to dress the bloody mess that was his left shoulder. Upon cleaning it up, he used his teeth to help bind the bandages. He hissed but the pain subsided. When he turned, the Elfkin was coming around.

“You’ve only one chance, hope that there is some sanity beneath all that… Must make him see I am not an enemy and that he is sick and needs help.” He told himself.

The boy moaned, a hand going to his forehead where he found the wet washcloth. Amber eyes flaring open, he sat up quickly. Not knowing where he was made him wary. He spied the Bren mage. “You.”

“Ah, you woke faster than I would have thought.”

“Why am I here?”

“I guess you can say the scholar in me didn’t think it was right to kill an unconscious individual afflicted by Thabinthira.”

“Afflicted?” The boy asked, suspicious but not yet attacking, a good sign to Yukarim.

“Yes, I study Thabinthira and its effects. Have you spent time there? I thought I saw…”

The Elfkin stared hard at the mage. It was true, he had been in the lands of Thabinthira but
his
kind were not effected in that way by the wicked powers that so affected other races. “I attacked you. I hurt you. Why… I don’t understand.”

Yukarim smiled. “Here, have some water until I get the tea prepared. Are you hungry?”

“No.” The boy said. “Why didn’t you kill me when you had the chance? It doesn’t make sense. I am your enemy.”

“Really? I think we must have different definitions of what makes one an enemy of another. You look like a lost kid to me.”

~ ~ ~

The Elfkin remained with the Bren mage for several weeks after that, much to both of their surprise. Though he would admit to no name, Yukarim felt the boy was slowly beginning to trust him. He was very serious and did not laugh at any of Yukarim’s attempts to lighten the perpetual frown on his face but he no longer acted out in violence. The first few days, Yukarim worried for every living creature that nested or burrowed in the area of his cabin for the Elfkin seemed to find fault in anything that moved. He trailed the mage around as Yukarim tended his chores and Yukarim tried to explain everything he did just to fill in the silence. With an innocent ignorance that was both saddening and maddening, even the simplest things were alien to the boy. The Bren wondered about his past
and how he could have no knowledge of preparing ones own meal, cleaning up or even tending ones own unruly hair. After some time, he even began to think of the boy as a little brother of sorts.

A little brother who was incredibly snide and merciless when he had an opinion he cared to share.

Yukarim got used to it, never growing angry as he did his best to show the boy his mistakes in a positive way. The Elfkin was progressing well enough under Yukarim’s guidance and direction (meaning he no longer threatened his mentor or destroyed things indiscriminately).

Yukarim, who felt the boy was suffering with changes wrought by Thabinthira’s sickness, held onto the hope that he could undo the damage and heal the boys mind. He had no idea to the Elfkin’s past, his gently posed questions were met by stony silence that lasted like depression until something would jolt him out of it.

~ ~ ~

The boy possessed no trust to spare. His mental barriers were never down even in rest giving Yukarim ample time to get used to coming up against them. It was not long before he noticed the strange patterns, imperfections, in the shields. Whatever purpose they held, the mage couldn’t tell. It was almost like they were keyed for something specific. He doubted the youth even knew they were there.

There was no way to safely point out the flaws so he just pointed them out and awaited the reaction. Yukarim tried explaining he had no idea what they were and could tell from the Elfkin’s expression that neither did he. With eyes that bespoke what the boy would do if it was all a ploy, Yukarim showed him the flaws and helped mold the shields energies to fix them. Still, the shields remained up.

~ ~ ~

Four months came and went and Yukarim saw his charge attempt for the first time to be useful. He had not done much on his own; Yukarim had gotten used to taking on the care of both of them. He wore the clothes the mage had given to him- white, so Yukarim would have an easier time spotting the shadow that flitted about the mountainside.

Covered in dirt, tracking mud across the floor, the boy approached where Yukarim sat bent over a scroll. When he looked up, he came face to face with a broken bouquet of what looked to have once been Fawnscrown. Fawnscrown was very rare and was most notable for its periwinkle petals and stringy curly leaves. When boiled, the flower heads released a chemical that soothed fevers. Too bad it was rather mangled. But it was the thought that counted. “Where did you find this? I didn’t think Fawnscrown grew on these mountains.”

“I found it.”

“How did you know what it was?” Yukarim asked, taking the battered bouquet.

The boy shrugged, growing weary of being questioned about the plant. Impatiently he waved a hand toward a stack of books in the corner of the room.

“Ah! He looked through the leaflets on herb lore and remembered the pictures. He must have seen the flowers while he was out. This is quite the surprise but I better not make too big a deal of this.” The mage thought, then outloud: “Thank you. This will be useful.”

Yukarim went to take care of preparing the plant before they dried up and upon returning from the kitchen his smile fled.

That look was back in the boy’s eyes- the same he had when they first met. He was not looking at Yukarim however. His eyes were focused on the ground which made the Bren think that he was listening to something or using the superior perceptions that had found Yukarim back then despite having been well hidden. Pivoting sharply, the Elfkin made to leave.

“H-hey, where…?”

“Don’t follow me.” That was all he said but there was something in the way he did not quite meet the mages eyes…

Yukarim did as the youth asked, he had no right to do otherwise, but it did not mean he had to just sit there and wait to see what unfolded like an uninvolved bystander. Taking up a place on the floor, the Bren centered all his energies before lowering his mental barriers. He let the sights and sounds flow into him then expanded his senses outward.

He found the boy easily, much the same as when they first met. He was racing in a headstrong pattern and when Yukarim moved his seeking beyond the boy he felt another presence. “He must have sensed who this other
person was but how?” The Elfkin was not trying to hide his passage; the other presence felt it as well. “What does he plan on do- Oh no!”

Yukarim took to his feet, slipping as he bolted for the door.

He arrived mere seconds after the boy pulled his dark claws from the chest of a cloaked Larren. Blood poured down the front of the man, down the right claw and to the ground.

He did not think before coming up behind the boy, it did not occur to him it might not be a good idea. The mage did not blame the defensiveness that caused the reaction but when the trethen turned at the light touch on his shoulder, he did not recognize the kindly Bren who patiently discussed the differences between dangerous creatures in the mountains and ones that were okay to have near the cabin, who prepared meals without asking for anything in return, who fed him and had given him some of the mage’s own clothing.

BOOK: Dusk Falling (Book 1)
9.13Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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