Healer (23 page)

“What?” Katherine
glanced to
Shy
for clarity, but the Healer only
shrugged. “Don’t be ridiculous! He’s throwing a fit right now because you’re
missing! Of course, he loves you!”

“Then why didn’t he
come for me himself?” Glory turned away. The waters stretched as far as the eye
could see, and faded out over the horizon in a white haze. From behind, Shy
continued speaking.

“Glory, why do you
think?” he said. “Are you really that desperate for attention?”

“Glory,”
came
Katherine’s soft tone, and before the young woman could
turn away again, the teen was in front of her. “Perhaps you haven’t heard, but
Lexington is about to get overrun with war.”

Glory’s eyebrows
lowered in confusion. “What war?” She glanced over her shoulder at Shy. “No
one’s mentioned that here.”

“Doubt they would,”
Shy looked around at the men. “Seemingly, they sailed before word got out.”

Katherine took the
woman’s hand in her own to gain her full attention.

“Wisdom couldn’t come
himself because he has to prepare the clans for a possible attack. Since he
can’t be in two places at once, he sent us to bring you back before it was too
late.”

“But
what war, and with who?”

“Well...us.”

“What do you mean?”

Swearing softly, Shy
gave Glory a brief rundown of what their clan leader had in mind. It was all
Glory could do to keep from diving over the edge and swimming back to her love.
Emotions mingled together. She felt foolish for leaving. At the same time, her
thoughts traveled to her family. How could she go back now when they sat in
immediate danger?

“My father doesn’t
know!” Glory begged. “Don’t you see? I can’t go back now!”

“Yes, you are!” Shy
started to take out the necklace his brother had given him when Katherine
halted the move.

“Shy, this is
her
family!”

“I’m not going to be
the blame if something happens to her!”

“You won’t,” Glory
said. “It’s my choice. Please! I’ll...I’ll do as you say
,
only if you agree to take me to my father. We’ll come back together.”

“Glory...” but again,
the young woman insisted. “I don’t like this. It’s too risky.” Turning away to
pace the deck, he left the two alone while he thought out a better plan.

“We’d get there a lot
sooner if we flew,” Katherine suggested.

Halting his pace, Shy
turned to her. Frowning, he finally nodded.
“All right.
We go. We fly. We get there.” By then, Glory had her arms wrapped around in his
neck in thanks. Shy, however, did not return the embrace. “But the moment
my
father shows, we leave. Got it?”

“I promise not to run
off!”

“That, I’ll believe
when I see it.” He held up the sapphire stone. “Katherine, take her hand. I’ll
transport you both inside. Don’t
worry,
you’ll be able
to see where we’re headed.
Straight there.
And straight back.”

As soon as the two
were safely inside, Shy headed out over the waters in the form of a hawk. The
storm was behind them now, though its rumbling could still be heard.

“Sure hope you know
what you’re doing,” though Shy continued to doubt his own actions.
Sure hope
I know what I’m doing.

*****

Abraham never realized
how heavy a Black Wing was. Even for a half-breed, the weight of Corrigan’s wings
nearly doubled Abraham’s task of prying the harpy from bed. With an arm around
his shoulder, and being careful of the talons, Corrigan was finally pulled to a
standing position.

“Think you could
adjust yourself? You’re squashing me!” Abraham grunted under the harpy’s
weight.

“You’d be dragging too
if you had to stay in bed for months at a time!” Corrigan mumbled and blinked
several times to clear his gaze. Carefully, he moved each wing to test their
agility. The movement nearly sent them airborne.

“Save it for when
we’re outside!” Abraham warned. “If Jenario comes up here, you’ll
have
to
fly.”

Corrigan just snorted
and allowed the young man to help him over to the balcony doors. “Took you long
enough to figure the spell.”

Abraham breathed in
deeply once the harpy’s weight was against the balcony wall.
“Wasn’t
easy.
Only way to get his mind off magic was to bring up the past.”

“Add the horn to the
mix, and you had your work cut out for ya, huh?” Corrigan sneered.

Abraham nodded grimly.

“Suppose I can’t complain.
I’m out, and I thank you for it.” The harpy attempted an awkward bow while
still holding to the wall for support. It was not until the click of lock
shifted his gaze past the young man and toward another standing just inside the
patio doorway.

Abraham needed no hint
as to who stood behind him. In a single motion, he turned toward his father.
“Fly….” he breathed.

From behind, he could
hear Corrigan’s talons scraping over stonework. Though he kept a steady gaze
with his father, the muffle of movement over the balcony wall confirmed the
harpy had descended.

“I won’t let you take
him back.” Abraham raised a hand in defense as his father stepped outside. A
spell was already forming on his tongue when Jenario just shook his head.

“There’s no need for
that.” He waved the comment aside. “Corrigan’s usefulness had long since run
out.”

A thrash of underbrush
below the balcony suggested the harpy had reached ground level. Although still
weak, Abraham knew the harpy’s wings could still deliver a good blow. There
came a distant crack of twigs and rustling leaves from the Black Wing’s
entrance into the forest before all was still, save for the constant rumble of
overhead thunder.

Abraham kept his
distance as his father stepped over to the balcony wall. There came a chuckle.

“Expecting the horn, I
see,” Jenario said softly, his gaze sweeping over the shadowed land. “But let
it be known that it was my every intention to see him free.”

“By
using others!”
Abraham said
sharply. “I see how you work. I see how that
thing
works. It uses you
the same way
you
use others to get what you want.”

There was a brief
moment of silence while Abraham studied his father’s unusual cool attitude. “I
haven’t seen your assassin in a while. Did you finish using him as well?”

“Indeed.” Jenario’s
change from relaxed pose
to an intense stare-down caused
beads
of sweat to line the young man’s forehead.

What was I
thinking?
He could feel power drawing
around his father.
I’m not strong enough to stand up to him or the horn.
They’d obliterate me by mere thought!

A sly smile spread
across Jenario’s lips, and the eyes lit with an inner flame.

“Now what purpose
would that serve when you still have potential?”
the horn spoke gently.
“As for Nathanial...”
A shrug.
“Let’s just say, I sent him into early
retirement.”

Abraham lowered his
eyebrows in disgust. “Maybe my father doesn’t see you as a puppet master, but I
do. And I was not about to see that Black Wing’s demise!”

“So you did.”
That crooked smile never left his lips.

“And I will not allow myself
to be used for your gain either.” The young man started to back away. When the
horn said nothing, he turned and dashed for the bedroom door, only to find it
locked. Heart pounding, he raced for the secret passage. Flinging aside the
paneling, he stared stupidly at the dark void of swirling portal blocking his
path.

In frustration,
Abraham slammed the paneling shut and whipped around. His father had moved to
the only exit the room contained: the balcony.

“As I said once
before,”
the horn cooed,
“should
something happen to the harpy, you’ll be taking his place.”

“I’ll not be kept
under your spell!”

“Of
course not.
You’ll just
undo it. No, I have better plans for you. But for now,”
the horn turned away from the bedroom,
“there’s a war
about to rage, and I plan to attend its final outcome.”

“What war?”

“One your father
has prepared so nicely.”

Abraham slowly
ventured over to the doors once Jenario stepped back outside, only to find the
space vacant.

The distinct sound of
a four-legged animal clopping over barren soil drew his attention below. While
only a glimpse of the unicorn was seen before entering the forest, Abraham
could not help but feel trapped. Jenario had locked the door when he had
entered, and a dark portal blocked the secret passage.

He leaned over the
wall to judge how far he was from ground. The tower room was one of the tallest
structures on the building. Just thinking about climbing down sickened his
stomach.

There was a whoosh of
wind at his back, followed by loud flapping. A strong pair of hands gripped
under his arms and lifted him out over the balcony. With a yelp, Abraham
dangled helplessly in midair.

“Thought you might
need a lift,” came the voice of Corrigan as the two sailed out over the trees.

“You came back!”
Abraham glanced up,
then
swung his feet to avoid
hitting a limb. “Watch it!” His legs pumped to keep from hitting anything.

“I can’t lift you any
higher!” Corrigan called. “We’ll be landing shortly anyhow!”

“Not out here!”
Abraham shouted as a streak of lightning lit the sky. “You’re going to kill us
both!”

The Black Wing angled
his descent, circling Jenario’s home in the process to look for a place to
land. The storm cloud was intense, shadowing the land with its enormous size.

“Somehow, I doubt that’s
his plan, or we’d been long gone by now!”

“The horn mentioned
something about a war!” Abraham said. “Do you think Keith knows?”

“We’ll soon find out!”

A fresh breeze
signaled freedom near the borders of Sapphire. Even with the storm looming
around them, the feel of Jenario’s power grew fainter. Holding tight to the
feathering around the harpy’s arms, Abraham allowed himself to be carried,
hoping and praying he could somehow play a role in stopping whatever his father
had started.

CHAPTER
1

There was an eerie
silence throughout the city of Lexington. People hastened their business with merchants
in hushed tones as a dense fog settled in from the south. Fingers of dark mist
crept through back alleys and poured over the cobblestone streets. It did not
take long before all of Lexington was in its grasp. 

Yet Lexington’s
inhabitants were not the only ones unsettled by this uncanny arrival.
Surrounding hillside provided the perfect lookout points for Healers to amass.
Extending their animal senses from gained shifts, they alone could detect human
movement and smells within the gray covering. Among them was Chronicles, ready
to signal his people forward at the first sign from either Jangus or his
son. 

A White Wing brushed
past some leaves to join his side, his wings neatly folding in a fade.
Squinting at the haze of gray, Rusha turned to the other Healer. 

“I hope this doesn’t
last,” he said. “A fog like this will prove hard to navigate through in
mid-flight.”

Chronicles flicked his
gaze over to the harpy before refocusing on the city. 

“Nevertheless, it will
help conceal your attacks.” 

“Until
we hit their structures!”

“Leave the buildings
to us.” Chronicles held out a hand to demonstrate his words by calling forth a
small vine from the earth. “We’ll level everything they’ve built until the only
mark of their existence is a barren field!” He clenched his fist, and when he
did the vine crushed a small stone beneath the soil. 

“As long as you’re
certain,” Rusha said. “Why wait for your son or Jangus?”

“I want confirmation.”
Chronicles waved a hand to dismiss the Wing’s presence. “Be ready to send your
people.”

Disgruntled, Rusha let
a throaty chirp escape his lips before leaving. A rustle of feathers slipping
into flight soon confirmed Chronicles was alone. He then turned his attention
to the southern skies. 

Something dotted the
horizon. With dilated pupils, his gaze sharpened until he could just make out
the raven form of Jangus. 

*****

It was the dense fog
that covered a young thief’s tracks. Holding tightly to her stolen prize, she
rounded a corner and darted into the security of darkness. She needed no light
for guidance, as the narrow alleyway had been traveled so many times she knew
it by heart. 

Her hand traced the
familiar wood texture along the row of buildings. Without a misplaced step, she
neatly turned corners and avoided a broken crate.

I can’t wait to
show the others at the guild!
Excitement
urged herself onward, though she wished there was some light to study her
prize. The weight of it suggested worth, as it was budding with jewels.
Just a little further.
 

She was still a couple
of alleys over from the Thieves’ Guild when the fog began to shift. Slowly,
blackness became a dim haze that offered a chance to view an outline of her
surroundings. In eagerness, she lifted the jewelry close to inspect it.

A faint clack of
boards shifting against one another startled her. The fog was still quite
dense, so she could not see far. Somewhere ahead, a roof shingle creaked.

She held her position.

A sudden flurry of
feathers swept past, cawing loudly in her ear. She cursed,
then
pressed on toward the guild.

“Stupid
bird!”

It had gone to the
rooftop. She could still hear its claws scraping the shingles until there came
a thud in the dirt.

Probably
a loose shingle.
These
alleys are full of ‘em!

A single flap
suggested the bird may have come back down. There was a strange cooing just
ahead. Still, she kept walking, though her pace slowed. As she came closer, a
mound of feathers began to take shape.

“Poor
thing.
Did ya lose your way?” She
reached out to touch its silvery feathers when they suddenly recoiled in a
throaty growl. 

The girl froze, locked
in wide-eyed fear while the feathery mound began to unfurl. Her eyes trailed
from the tip of each wing stretching the width of the alley. Standing at full
height, it towered above her head with a piercing gaze she could not turn away
from.

Her mouth opened at
the underside of a taloned hand striking head-on. In place of screams came
gurgles. Jewelry flung from her flailing hands. It clinked to a stop next to a
clawed foot. It seemed to pause before a curled toe flicked the object away.
The body still twitched, but that was the extent of life. Satisfied, the White
Wing returned to its rooftop perch.

Unaware, people
continued to collect around merchant tables strategically placed around
Lexington’s Town Square. On clear days, one could neatly spy merchants selling
together according to category. Those with jewelry stayed in the center.
Cooking ware, clothing, and all else were displayed on either sides of the
street in a fashion that kept the line of buyers constantly moving. Guards
dressed in black kept a lookout, especially around the jewelry and weapon
areas. 

Yet the weather this
day made it difficult to catch snatching fingers. Instead, they turned their
attention to a highly respectable group of wealth. The sound of loose coin
jiggling inside large purses suggested tighter ranks to help sweep the area for
potential pick-pockets. What they could not see, however, were the foreboding
shapes of White Wings collecting along the rooftops surrounding market.

A coin hit the ground
in a series of sharp pings over cobblestone road, tuning the harpies’ sense of
direction. With limited vision in the fog, they relied heavily on sound to pick
out their next set of targets. Murmurs from the crowd suggested a tightly
packed group, setting one harpy into motion. 

Using sound to
determine the closeness of potential obstacles, the harpy made a swift dive.
Extended claws closed quickly around an unlucky person before pulling up. 

There came a scream of
panic, cut short by the slam of body crashing into a merchant cart.
People scattered, unsure of why or how it happened.
More
screams followed as a slew of Wings dived into the crowd. While chirps and
shrill whistles signaled their whereabouts to avoid collisions in midair, their
cries also added as a distraction. Panic-driven, people were clueless as to
where to run. Suddenly, those standing next to one other were taken. Children
found themselves parentless. Bodies seemed to fly from nowhere, while the
constant sound of flapping and shrill whistles quickly revealed the type of
enemy. 

“Harpies!”
A guard shouted, drawing his weapon.
“Everyone insi-ck!”
A talon slash across the throat silenced
the alarm. 

Discarding the body,
Rusha turned his attention to the sound of banding men. Vengeance lit his eyes
with an eerie glow before plunging into the fray with a snarl.

A wing lash instantly
dislodged a guard’s shoulder. His holler of agony was cut short when a talon
ripped into his throat. Weapons clattered and were lost under the footfalls of
regrouping men, though their efforts were futile against Rusha’s swift attack.
In minutes, several bodies lay at his feet. The harpy’s claws tore through
their lightweight armor and quickly dispatched several more groups. 

Then Rusha lifted himself
to the sky. He felt the wind of two others whip under him in flight. A shrill
cry announced his descent, and he quickly closed the gap between himself and
scrambling bystanders. Merchant stands were overturned in the ruckus.
Goods scattered. Several people tripped, their heavy thuds tuning harpies to
their whereabouts in the fog. Women stood in doorways, trying to find missing
children. What they found instead was a rush of death that quickly
answered their calls.

A rip of awning,
followed by shattering beams, came crashing down over one of the store fronts.
Having fallen through the rubble, a harpy screamed while clutching one of the
beams sticking out of a wing. Not far away, a merchant breathed heavily in
short-lived triumph. Brandishing a bow from his own stand, he had managed to
bring the harpy down in a single shot. That however, caused a stirring of
angered responses. In a single sweep, his body was whipped across the street by
two harpies. Carrying him by the arms, they suddenly dove in separate
directions, ripping his limbs apart.

For those who managed
to escape the chaos in the street, dashing down alleyways proved far more
dangerous. With fog blinding in their retreat, often times they found
themselves crashing over crates, tools or even into walls when reaching a dead
end. In their distress, they could not see the creatures closing in from
behind. 

For those who made it
indoors, safety was but an illusion. As the harpies continued their attack
throughout the city, Healers advanced from the hillside. Fanning out around the
city walls, Chronicles signaled his people to begin fueling the earth with
energy. 

Sudden growth spurts
triggered vines to crack open streets. Buildings shook with a tremendous
rumble. Rooftops split and caved in. Large roots and vines took over sidewalks.
They broke windows, nabbed up people, and crawled over structures until they
were covered in greenery. Under the immense pressure, some of the second-story
shops collapsed. Soon, people were forced not only to clear the streets, but
the city itself. 

Outside the city
walls, fog loosely dusted the ground. The sky was lighter, and one could see
their surroundings more clearly. As a wave of fleeing citizens emptied into the
fields, they were picked off one by one by different colored Wings.

A Red Wing landed on
all fours, tossing bits of dirt up in the process. Its talons glistened in the
sparse sunlight directed through overhanging clouds. It was those same talons
that the people watched in terror while it raised itself to full height. Dark,
crimson wings spread in an elegant display of power and color – the color of
blood!

People scattered in
all directions, only to be swept up and flung through the air. Red mixed with
White Wings cooperated in blurs of color darting across the landscape.
Their silhouetted forms from overhead either drove people back into
the city or sent them fleeing across the field.
If lucky enough to
survive a flying ordeal, humans soon encountered the ground-manipulating
Healer. One such could only stare up at the earth closing in around him, his
broken body unable to respond...if only to scream.

*****

Valor surveyed the
land, listening for the distant rumble. A few dark strands mixed with blond curls
loosely rapped along his raised hand shielding his eyes from the sun. He had
just returned from a fishing routine, red-faced with wind-tossed ponytail
needing attention, when he squinted in the direction of the sound.

Like distant thunder,
it drew the attention of those unloading down the boardwalk. All eyes turned to
their leader while momentarily resting their heavy burden of fresh fish. 

Valor simply waved
them on to continue working.

“Sounds like exploding
rock,” one of the men said while dumping a pile of mackerel into a wooden
crate. 

“Whatever the case,
it’s coming from the city.” Turning abruptly, Valor pointed out men to
accompany him. “Saddle the horses. We ride to Lexington!”

Valor, atop a
high-spirited stallion, led a small band of five along the road. As they closed
distance between port and city, the rumblings grew more frequent. Nervously,
the horses whinnied with flared nostrils taking in the smells of what was to
come. A couple tried to bolt from the path. It took all the riders’ willpower
just to keep them from dashing back through the trees that lined either side of
the road. It was not until Lexington’s fields opened before them that they
halted. 

Even with the immense
build-up of fog that eerily coated the city, they could still make out harpies
of red and white diving down on fleeing individuals. The fog itself seemed to
concentrate just within the city walls. Yet the sky above remained relatively
clear. 

A series of vibrations
shook the earth, toppling buildings and parts of the protective border. This
left the city open to another kind of attack. As Valor and his men watched,
Healers cast their energies into the earth to raise vines of unthinkable
proportions. 

“Lord Valor?” 

His mouth must have
dropped at the devastation, and his first impulse was to run. If not for the
others, he would have done just that. 

If they think I’m
getting involved...
He reined his
black mount around to face them in a composed fashion. 

“The people need to be
warned at home!” he said. “Return to port! Send word to others as well!”

“What of yourself?”

A
frown.
“I ride to Central Valley
Clan.”