Into the Wastelands: Book Four of the Restoration Series (8 page)

Damn!
Flare thought furiously. Undoubtedly, the monk knew that Flare was going to try and escape and he had kept the sword close.

Flare wasted only a moment gazing at Ossendar. The sword was out of reach
at
the moment, but he still needed to take advantage of the situation.

Grabbing Thomas’ pack, Flare quickly opened it and looked inside. He wasn’t sure what he hoped to find, perhaps a knife that
he could use to slice his bonds. He dumped
t
he pack on the ground and began pushing the contents around. The first thing he came across were some provisions and spare clothes. He quickly shoved them to the side with barely a glance. Next, Flare was surprised to see the spare clothes from his pack, they had been taken from him when he had been captured. He paused only a moment before one of the attacking creatures screamed and urged Flare onward. He didn’t even risk a glance to see how the battle was going. Shoving his own clothes to the side, Flare’s heart sank as he saw the remaining contents of Thomas’ pack; two small prayer books.

There was another scream and Flare did look up this time. He raised his eyes just in time to see the last monster fall to the ground. Thomas was standing with his back to Flare and it appeared that the monsters hadn’t even managed to touch the monk.
Jordan
was another matter. The guard’s left arm was a bloody mess and it hung loosely by his side. There
were also several bloody slashes
across the guard’s chest and some deep cuts on his face and neck. It was surprising that the guard was still standing.

Frantically, Flare thought of going for one of the guard’s packs but he seriously doubted he had that much time. He began casting his eyes back through the contents of Thomas’ pack when he heard
Jordan
’s voice.

“Sir! The prisoner!”

It was at that moment that Flare’s eyes fell on his clothes that Thomas had confiscated. When he pushed the clothes away, they had rolled apart and revealed something wrapped u
p in the middle. It was the old and rather worn
pouch
that Flare had found in the mountains.
It was so much more than just a pouch though. It was a doorway
.
Without wasting a moment, Flare dove for the pouch. Fear seized him, fear that he would be too slow, fear that Thomas would stop him. His heart was pounding and his breathing was frantic.

Flare landed hard on the ground and grabbed for the pouch.
He could heard a muffled cry and he knew it came from Thomas, but he didn’t bother looking.
He flipped the cover open and slipped a finger inside.
There was a blinding flash and the ground seemed to drop away from beneath him.

Chapter
8

Flare hit the ground and rolled over in pain. Damn floor was awfully hard, but that wasn’t surprising since it was stone.
It took a moment to realize that he had escaped Thomas and the other agents of the Church and then he began to laugh. His laugh quickly degenerated into a cough and he cut off.
The pouch was a doorway and led to this castle. A powerful wizard had used his craft to transport a castle to a place in between the worlds. The reason was simple, while time did pass for those at the castle, they did not age as long as they were in between worlds.

He opened his eyes and it took several moments before the wall in front of him came into focus. He was still staring at it when a woman’s voice spoke from behind him.

“I did not think it would take you this long to return.”

He wasn’t quite sure but he thought there was a hint of anger in her voice. Rolling over, Flare looked up into the face of
Diana. Her husband had been the wizard responsible for this castle, but he had died centuries before on a trip back to the normal world.

Diana was an attractive woman. She was around forty years old, with some slight wrinkling around her eyes. Her hair was long and luxurious, a beautiful brown. Some of her natural beauty was missing now, as her features were twisted in anger. She wasn’t even looking at him, but instead was staring at a spot on the wall.

Confused, Flare wondered what he could have done to anger Diana. She had seemed happy and content when he left her last time. Then a thought occurred to him. When he had left here last time, they had just slept together and then he had returned to the normal world and been gone for weeks. She probably thought he had been avoiding returning out of choice.

“Uh,” Flare said, not really sure what to say.

Diana turned her gaze on him and her eyes opened wide at the sight of the ropes and his general appearance. “What happened to you?” she demanded.
The anger disappeared and was replaced by concern.

“I was captured by agents of the Church,” Flare answered, “one of them is a monk who can use sorcery and he carries a sword.”

Diana’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. “I thought you said the Church hates sorcerers.”

“They do,” Flare agreed, “but apparently they hate me more.” He held up his bound hands in front of him. “A little help, please.”

She took a step forward, caught sight of the medallion around Flare’s neck, and froze. Her eyes widened again and her right hand unconsciously went to her thr
oat. “Where did you get that?” s
he asked, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

Flare took a deep breath. “The same monk that captured me also put this around my neck. It’s pure torture when I try and use sorcery.”

She nodded. “I know.”

It took a moment for the words to penetrate. “What do you mean you know?” Flare asked. “Do you know what this thing is?”

“Yes,” Diana answered somewhat confused, “don’t you?”

Flare shook his head. “No. I’ve never heard of anything like it.”

Diana was silent for a moment and then started speaking quietly. “When I
was studying
to be
come
a sorcerer,
an apprentice was required to travel to the
tower
of
Rayamandor
. The last step for an apprentice to become a sorcerer was to pass certain tests. Once those tests were completed, the council would place this medallion around the apprentice’s neck.” She paused and glanced at the medallion again. “Or at least one very much like it. The apprentice was commanded not to use sorcery until told otherwise.” The council knew that sooner or later the apprentice would use sorcery and experience the pain of the medall
ion.” She took a deep breath, “W
ell do I remember when I tried. The pain was unbelievable.” She notic
ed Flare’s look of confusion, “I
t wasn’t a test. Rather it was a demonstration of the power of the medallion. The medallion was the worst punishment that the council could bestow on a sorce
rer.”

“You can take it off of me, can’t you?” Flare asked a little worried. If this was the worst punishment for a sorcerer, then did that mean that it was impossible to remove? Early on, he had tried to remove it, but it had nearly burnt his hands when he touched the cool metal of the medallion.

Diana smiled, sensing the anxiety in Flare’s words. “Relax. It only works if placed around the neck of a sorcerer by another sorcerer, but any sorcerer can remove it as well.”
Then she stepped around behind Flare and he felt her hands fighting the small clasp on the back of the metal necklace. After a moment it came loose and Diana removed the medallion from around his neck.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Flare closed his eyes and reached out to use his spirit. Immediately his senses seemed sharpened all the aches and pains of his body receded. He smiled and opened his eyes.
He was somewhat taken aback by Diana. She was staring at the medallion and studying it closely.

Flare opened his mouth to ask her again to cut his bonds, but then he remembered he didn’t need to. Instead he directed his spirit and something like air sliced through the bonds and the ropes fell away.

Pushing himself shakily to his feet, Flare stood there for a moment just rubbing his wrists. A good six inches of his forearms were red and enflamed.

He looked back at Diana and she was still studying the medallion. “Is everything all right?” he asked.

Diana looked up from the medallion and
smiled. “Yes, everything is fine. I just haven’t seen one of these is so long.”

“I hope to never see another one as long as I live,” Flare said. “Why do you have fond memories of the damn thing?”

Diana laughed, looking happy. “It’s not exactly fond memories. It’s just that this is something from when I was part of your world, something I never expected to see again. It just reminds me of when I was much younger.” The happiness seemed to fade away, and she looked more melancholy. Her eyes came back to Flare again and she studied him for a moment and then she gasped. “Where’s Ossendar?”

Gritting his teeth, Flare didn’t answer immediately. “The monk still has it,” he finally answered. “I have to go back.”

“But you can’t,” Diana said quickly. “If you return now, then the disorientation will put you right back in their hands.”

That thought had already occurred to Flare as well, but he couldn’t see any other choice. “I’ll just have to risk it,” he said. “I can not leave the sword in their hands.”

“Hold a moment,” Diana said. “These monks are desperate to capture you?” she asked. Fl
are nodded and she continued, “W
ell, surely they won’t leave the area? After all, they expect that you are in the immediate vicinity.”

“Perhaps,” Flare agreed, “but it’s also possible that they will take the sword to the Church will all possible haste. They know that I must come for it.”

Diana nodded, “Y
ou must at least take a weapon with you.”

“I have my sorcery,” Flare said, still
reveling in the enhanced senses,
“
i
t will do.”

“Oh yes,” Diana replied with a touch of mockery in her voice. “Sorcery will be your weapon, a weapon that you undoubtedly will not even be able to use immediately upon your return.”

“Well, what do you recommend?” Flare demanded, his anger getting the best of him. “I cannot just stay here.”

“No,” Diana agreed, “but neither should you charge foolishly off without planning or considering
another’s
council.” Her tone had gone a little cool.

With some difficulty Flare reigned in his anger. “My apologies. I just can’t stand the thought of Ossendar in their hands.”

Diana nodded. “Come. Let’s eat something and get you a sword.” She took Flare by the arm and began steering him out of the room.

“Is that a good idea?” Flare asked. He still remembered his last trip away from here and he had been glad that his stomach had been empty. “I’m not sure that I should eat before returning.”

“Trust me,” Diana answered calmly. “I have a plan.”

Diana led him up several flights of stairs and they soon reached a small room with a table covered in food. Despite her earlier anger, she must have ordered the food as soon as she knew Flare was returning. She must have assumed they would smooth out the disagreement.

At the sight of the food, Flare felt his stomach growl. The breads, vegetables, and thoroughly cooked meats all appealed to him. It seemed that he hadn’t eaten anything but hard biscuits and roasted rabbit in forever. He felt his mouth watering and was pleased that he had listened to Diana’s advice. He moved over and began helping himself.

Diana rang a small bell and young woman appeared almost immediately. The woman was a maid of some sort and she stood in the doorway with her eyes down.

“Get some clothes for Master Flare,” Diana said and the woman turned and hastened to obey. “And send a boy to the armory to fetch Flare a broadsword,” Diana called out after the girl.

Flare wanted to eat everything on the table but he forced himself to show some restraint. He had to travel back to his world and he didn’t want his best attack move to be vomiting on the monk.

Retrieving something from a cabinet along the wall, Diana walked over and sat down next to Flare, facing him. She uncorked a small bottle and poured a liquid into her left hand. She then set the bottle back on the edge of the table and began rubbing the liquid between her hands. “Hold you
r
arms out,” she commanded.

Flare did as he was told and she began rubbing the liquid into his
raw wrists and forearms. The liquid was warm and immediately the pai
n eased. He grinned at Diana, “T
hat feels good.”

Diana returned the grin. “It should help with the pain and even speed the healing.” She continued rubbing for several more moments before she spoke again. “I’m sorry about the way I greeted your return. I shouldn’t have acted like that.”

Swallowing hard, Flare considered what to say. He was in dangerous waters and he kne
w it. “Why were you so upset?” h
e asked hesitantly. “You knew that I would only be able to return infrequently.”

Diana nodded, “I do know that, but I was expecting to know what you learned about the Valley of the Ancients. I assumed that you would return to let me know.”

Flare nodded and felt relieved. He had feared that she suspected their relationship to be more than it was, but that fear was somewhat allayed.

Silence enveloped them for a short while. Diana continued to tend his wounds but neither felt the need to speak. Finally, Flare asked, “
D
id you ever hear of a sorcerer named Gregeggor?”

Diana paused in her work and her eyes flicked up to meet Flare’s. “Wherever did you hear that name?”

“Then you have heard of him?”

“Yes,” Diana answered, returning to tending his wounds. “He was a great Sorcerer, but that was a long time before I was born. Many think he was the greatest sorcerer ever.”

He hes
itated for a moment, not sure if
she would believe him. “He taught me sorcery,” Flare finally said.

Diana stopped her work on his wounds and leaned back away from him. “What?” she asked confused.

“
The Valley of the Ancients is something akin to this castle.” Her look was one of total confusion so Flare continued his explanation. “Members of the Dragon Order are trained by the spirits of the dead. Those who are the greatest at their art or craft are used to train new members,” he paused, wondering how best to explain everything. “Long ago, Wizardry was used to create a method for summoning the spirits to train
new
members to the Order. The spirit is summoned to a place called Sha’al. I went to Sha’al and met the spirit of Gregeggor. He trained me for nearly a century and then I returned to my world and only a couple of heartbeats had passed.”

“A century?” Diana repeated the words in disbelief. “And you were trained by the Gregeggor?” She scooted forward on her seat. “Oh, the things you must have learned.”

Flare nodded, “
H
e is a very good teacher. When I returned to my world I was very disorientated. I had been warned to expect that, but the monk and his soldiers found me
soon after
and took me captive.” He paused, not sure exactly
how to ask his next question, “W
ill you accompany me back to retrieve the sword?”

Diana smiled
sympathetically. “I would but I have not the ability. I am tied to this place by my husband’s wizardry and cannot leave here.” She shook her head, “I’m sorry.”

Flare sighed deeply. “All right. Any ideas on how to minimize the disorientation upon my return to my world?”

Diana grinned again, but this time it was encouraging. “Actually, yes.
My husband spent time working towards that very goal
and he made some
progress
.”