Healer (13 page)

“Understood.
Thank you, Osha.”

He bowed his head and
waited, eyes closed.

A sudden energy surge
sent him reeling back. Eyelids snapped open to catch a glimpse of its source
flowing from the mirror’s surface
into his own
. He
could feel his inner self being filled, more power than he had ever conjured as
a magic-user. Even moments of anger empowering his magic from past events
seemed unimportant. The swift course through him triggered an instinctive urge
to contain it, but caught
himself
.
Osha’s
warning hung thick on the waves of energy washing over him, until he could no
longer feel just himself, but the presence of a unicorn.

Would it feel this
simple if the dark horn took hold of me?
he
thought as his body moved on its own accord.

The use of power
would be more appealing,
the
unicorn’s thoughts projected into his own.
You could not access your own
magic without coming in contact with his. Thus, the end would be the same.

Body and soul,
Wisdom guessed.
He would have it all.

As the room around him
began to expand upward, he realized
Osha
was shifting.
It amused him to see feathers appearing down his arms. While his legs
shortened, his toes lengthened into talons. White down spilled over his breast,
with speckled brown trailing down the sides and back. A tail spread, long
plumes turning to steady his new body.

In the form of an owl,
he watched his wings flap in test, then carry him to the balcony wall where he
perched overlooking the yard. The night was alive with songs of nearby tree
frogs and crickets. But from his clan members, all was still.

The whip of air
flowing over his feathery cheeks confirmed his body in flight once again.
Though
Osha
controlled every movement, she was careful
to show the Healer where they were headed – the borders of Trully, toward the
storm.

And it had grown.

Brace yourself,
was his only warning before a fluxing rise of energy
coursed through his body.
Osha
placed him at the edge
of Trully where the pounding of thunder greeted them. Returning to his true
form, Wisdom stood facing Sapphire. A thick mist traced his steps, and he was
sure he saw two skeletal hands carve a warning sign in the air.

A
warning from Jenario, no doubt.
Osha
, however, ignored it. She paused between the two
realms and released her power into the earth.

Wisdom caught his
breath, the pull of energy caressing his soul. It flushed through his system, a
great need to touch such raw power drawing him on the brink of destruction.
Then it was gone, dividing the two realms with a ring of power even Wisdom
could sense.

Freed of its burden,
Wisdom crumpled to his knees while sucking in deep breaths. He lifted his hands
to his face, felt his chest,
then
looked around. He
was conscious again, with his body his own.
Am I?
He tested his
movements, making sure he was in complete control. Slowly, he stood as the
surrounding mist seemed to condense in one location. It swirled to form an
image of a unicorn, but could not be sure whose influence spread throughout the
area until it parted, allowing a glimpse of night sky.

And the rising of a
Blue Moon stared down, with the wind whispering in his ear,
“It has begun.”

CHAPTER
1

Peter found his oldest
brother working in one of the servant sheds. The blond-haired youth looked
around at the familiar structure, once occupied by multiple craftsmen. In one
corner, a forge sat unused for crafting tools, swords, and other metal works.
There were shelves and hooks lined with tack for carriage horses, wood-working
tools, and gardening equipment. The shed itself was positioned behind their
modest home, with an extending roof so outdoor work was possible even in foul
weather.

Peter’s brother never
acknowledged his presence, but continued scraping a long piece of wood. Thin
strips peeled off with each pass into curled ringlets, which collected around
his feet. Already, a pile of these scrapings implied the length of his work
time.

Peter’s scrunched
facial expression revealed his puzzlement to his brother’s doings, and he
paused a few feet from the work bench. When he spoke, his tone was sharp.

“What are you doing?”

“Work.”
The scraping never ceased.

Peter started to
laugh. “That albino sure has you under his thumb, doesn’t he?” He approached
the table and slapped a hand down to halt the flow of curling wood chips.
“Since when do Schevolskys work? This is servant stuff!”

In response, the
brother pulled a large coin purse from his side and let it drop onto the board.
Coins jingled within.

“This? This is
real
money, Pete. You’re too young to remember, but back before our father had the
Eastern Clan, we
all
had to work. And I
liked
it!”

He let his tool slide
across the wood, seeming to brush off Peter’s hand in the process and smiled
faintly when his younger sibling jerked back.

“What about all the
goods we used to get?”

“Goods?
As in,” his brother paused work, “pickpocketing
copper and stealing pies from windows? Petty.” He picked up the wooden beam and
ran a finger down its length. Satisfied, he turned it over and started scraping
the other side. “You’d do better earning your share once you get used to it.
Schevolskys always do.”

Peter’s expression
darkened. “Not
this
Schevolsky!” He then abruptly turned and tromped outside.

“Things change, Pete!”

Surrounding woods
beckoned his desire to be alone. Walk too far, he realized, and he would come
out where the fields marked the edge of farming property.

A section of vines
dispersed lightly across the stonewall surrounding his family’s backyard. Years
of climbing these vines proved resourceful for quick getaways to and from the
property. He used it now, scuttling up and over,
then
jumping the last few feet with ease. The woods were dense, easy to get lost,
except for a trail of crumbled stone to mark a path. In no particular hurry, he
made his way into the shadowed realm of leaves and foliage.

Schevolskys?
Work?
It’s all that albino’s
doing!
He’s the one responsible
for this!

“So it would seem,”
a soothing voice interrupted Peter’s ranting
thoughts. He halted mid-step, then whirled to face whoever had followed him.

“Show yourself!” but a
laugh cast his gaze upward to a branch where a raven-haired youth perched. The
eyes revealed an opal iris when they stared down at Peter. In disgust, the boy
scoffed at the intrusion.
“Another one of you magic-users!”

“Ah, but it would
seem we have something in common,”
the stranger said, an eerie tone to his voice. He sounded older than his looks,
with a slight rasp to his words. Jumping down, he landed like a cat before
rising to his full height. Standing slightly taller than Peter, he never
flinched under the boy’s fiery gaze.
“The Eastern Clan’s prince.”

At this, Peter cocked
his head, intrigued.

“He’s destroying my
family’s reputation.”

“Huh... Looks like
you’ve made one on your own.”
The
stranger looked the boy over.
“They’re all against you now.”

“What do you
know!
You’re just some—” He never finished, for the other
held a finger to his lips to magically silence his tongue.

“Listen carefully,
for I’ll only offer this one chance. You want to be rid of that albino, don’t
you?
I can help you. But I’ll need
something in return. If you can bring me what I ask, then I promise the
prince’s immediate removal.
Guaranteed.”

Peter’s eyes narrowed.
“Who are you?”

“Who I am matters
little. Just bring me what I need, and my promise shall be kept.”

“I’d erase his very
name from existence if I could!”

A
cackle.
“Then this should be
easy. All you have to do is bring me the prince’s mirror.”

“A
mirror?”
Baffled, Peter repeated
the request, in which the other nodded.

“As
I said.
Easy.
It’s a large oval-shaped mirror kept somewhere within the clan.”

Peter leaned up against
a tree trunk.
“That simple, huh?
Might be some trouble
dragging it out, or else you want it in pieces. Still, I don’t see how a
mirror
is going to help remove him.”

“Oh, this is no
ordinary mirror. It connects us with what we need, when we need, in order to do
things with our talents. Unfortunately, he’s only here because of what he
possesses. Get it? Remove the mirror. Remove the prince. Simple.”

“So why don’t you just
get it yourself?” Peter rolled his eyes. Turning his head, he spat near the
base of the trunk. “If it’s really all that simple…” He paused when a few
strange looking vines began entwining each other as it grew up the tree. Large,
white blooms opened into five, pointed petals. As Peter backed away, keeping an
eye on the vines, a puff of yellow pollen fell from the blossom’s core.

A pair of hands on his
shoulders made him jump, but he could not pull away.

“As you so politely
pointed out,”
a whisper to his ear,
“I am a magic-user, after all.”
He released the boy, who remained still
long enough to add,
“I set one foot inside that place and he’d know.
We’re...two of the same beings, you could say. He’s one half of me, and I’m the
other. With you, he’s more than likely to look the other way. He can’t do that
with me.”

Peter turned to watch
the stranger back into surrounding shadow. He felt a little lightheaded. Were
the plants moving around him?

“The name’s
Jangus,”
came
a whisper on the wind.
“Remember your reward.
Remove the mirror. Remove the prince.”

*****

A disturbance through
the woods was enough for the squirrel to freeze. Black eyes reflected its
surroundings in the upper boughs. Sunlight was scarce at this level, creating
the perfect camouflage for one whose wings opened around her long enough to
snatch the animal in one taloned hand. The rodent jerked once, then stilled.

Everest made her way
down the trunk with the grace of a skilled hunter. Her
‘Ken
would have
been proud to know she had kept the ways of a Black Wing. Her appearance,
however, told a very different story. Years of captivity had left its mark, a
tattooed version of scars around the eyes and cheekbones where once onyx
feathers grew. Still, her attractiveness to Lorens Schevolsky was intriguing –
more so when he released her from slavery…and she stayed.

Half wings folded into
a fade behind her back, cut at the joint to prevent flight. The golden knobs
topping the tips where bone had snapped matched her gold necklace swinging
lazily around her neck. Pearls adorned where jewelry did not, a collection she
had started to count the many masters who had attempted to tame her wild
spirit. For her final captor, she wore a rare, black pearl in the center of the
necklace, gifted from Lorens himself.

She was quick to
finish her midday meal, and made sure no leftover juices clung to her clothing.
Human fabric was such a dainty thing. Threads often unraveled after snagging on
branches, and with her talons too bulky for sewing, much of her clothing had to
be tossed.

Shame
.
She
paused to scan the surrounding area. She could hear the activity of people
faintly gossiping from the nearby town. Their conversations were unclear,
though it was a comfort to know it was there – not that she cared for public
appearances. A Black Wing reveled in discretion.

Amber eyes flashed
toward a voice drifting her way. Practiced balance enabled her body to flatten
against the bark while her wings reopened to drape around – a perfect blend of
shadows.

In the stillness of
the canopy, she waited.

It was Peter
Schevolsky who marched beneath her. From the way he carried himself, he was
angry.

Everest quietly
sighed. She needed no explanation to figure his reasoning. His disgust toward
the prince was an everyday attitude. Yet, in a way, she admired him for it.

Such
a resemblance to my son.
She smiled slightly.
Your ambitions would make you
a proud fledging.

She held her position
until he had passed, and listened to his murmured plot to head toward the clan.
There was no doubt in her mind which one he had chosen. While she admired his
determination, her own pledge to help the prince kept her on edge. The way
Peter had disregarded danger in the town shop was enough to know he could do
far worse.

Such ignorance
needs taming! Perhaps it’s time I show him true consequences.
The thought of revealing herself to him was compelling,
as only a handful of individuals knew she existed in these parts. Still, she
was curious to his actions. Deciding to follow, she kept to the shadows.
Let
us see who stalks who.