Into the Wastelands: Book Four of the Restoration Series (9 page)

“How so?” Flare asked, surprised. This was the first time he was hearing about this.
“Is there anything that I can use?”

Diana didn’t answer immediately but instead moved over and poured herself a glass of wine. After a moment she turned her attention back to Flare. “There was one way that we had some success.”

“We?” Flare repeated. “You helped with these experiments?”

“Yes,” Diana said. “We found one method that worked reasonably well.”

Hope began to blossom within Flare. Maybe this would work after all.

Diana held up one finger, “T
here is one minor situation that arises from using this method though.”

Flare sighed.
Of course there is,
h
e thought. “What is it?” h
e asked. To his astonishment, Diana chuckled.

“Be at peace. The affects are not bad.” She paused briefly and studied Flare. “I’m not sure that you will like the procedure though.”

“And why is that?”

“You must let me into your mind,” Diana answered.

Flare leaned back in surprise.
Sorcerers could influence other people’s thoughts and actions, and really powerful sorcerers could actually take control of another person’s body. A person who was trained in sorcery had the ability to resist this form of control. Diana’s plan required Flare to lower his defenses and let her in his mind.

Frowning, he motioned for her to continue.

“What my husband and I were able to do was
use my mind to steady him during the trip from the castle back to your world. He arrived without any disorientation or problems.”

“So, if I let you in my mind, then you can get me back safely,” Flare said. He didn’t like lowering his defenses, even to a woman he somewhat trusted.

“There is one problem, though,” Diana sa
id. She continued on quickly, “Y
ou should not return here for several weeks.”

Flare’s eyes widened in surprise. “Why?”

She shook her head. “We never exactly determined the problem, but the first time my husband and I did this, he returned immediately to tell me it worked. When he arrived, he was violently ill. He spent the next two weeks in bed barely able to keep down broth.” She paused again, apparently to give Flare a chance to think about what she had just told him.

Flare considered for a moment. “So, if I wait several weeks will that make me able to return here without being sick like that?”

“Yes,” Diana answered. She seemed relieved that Flare was still considering her idea. “When the doorway between the castle and your world closes, my connection with you will be severed. We believed that the problem came from this sudden breaking of our mental connection. Wait a fortnight and you can return here just fine.”

Flare nodded. He was thinking fast. This method would let him get back safely to his world and then it would be up to him to wrestle Ossendar back. “Let’s do it,” he said after a moment’s more thought.
“If things go badly, then I just won’t have a way to escape easily.”

“That’s not exactly true,” Diana said quickly. “If things go badly, then you can still use the pouch. You’ll just be in misery for a week or two, but that’s still better than dying.”

Flare lifted his own glass of wine in salute to her. It was hard to argue with her logic.

When Diana was through tending his wounds, Flare changed clothes and strapped the loaned sword onto his hip.
She led him through the castle to a small library. She wanted to reread her husband’s old journal, specifically dealing with the experiment they had done to let the old wizard return so easily to the natural world.

While Diana hunted amongst the shelves, Flare sat in a small wooden chair, all alone with his thoughts.
He had been at the castle for nearly two hours now and he desperately wanted to get back. He kept imagining Thomas and Jordan disappearing with Ossendar to Mul-Dune and the sword forever being beyond his reach. The thoughts scared him and that was surprising. There was a time, not too long ago, that he would have gladly given the sword away, but now he couldn’t imagine going on without it.

“I’m ready,” Diana said, interrupting Flare’s brooding.

He pulled his eyes from their study of the floor and looked up at her. She was a very beautiful and friendly woman and he genuinely like her. He still disliked the very idea of letting her into his mind
, though
. There were so many things that could go wrong, accidentally or intentionally. It wasn’t that he distrusted her, at least not specifically, he didn’t trust anyone anymore. It seemed that his feelings toward everyone else boiled down to how much or how little he distrusted them. It was a depressing feeling, he so desperately wanted to trust, but he found it so hard to do.

Flare stood and nodded to the book in Diana’s hand. “Find what you needed?”

She
nodded. “Yes.” S
he glanced down at the book, “I’ve finished reviewing the notes and I’m ready. She paused
again
and looked at him. “Are you prepared to let me in?”

He took a deep breath and nodded. It felt like he was climbing the gallows. He was quite sure that Gregeggor would not have approved, but the old sorcerer was not here and sometimes you had to take a chance.

Grinning, Diana stepped close and slid her left arm through Flare’s right. “Don’t worry,” she said, “I promise not to do anything but help you get home.”

Flare nodded, “Let’s get this over with.”

She led him back through the castle, down several flights of stairs, and finally into the very room where he had arrived.

Still grinning, Diana turned to face Flare and placed her hands on his temples. “Relax. This won’t hurt.”

Closing his eyes, Flare breathed slowly. His stomach was tied up in knots, both at letting another sorcerer into his head and at possibly losing Ossendar.

After several moments he felt her mind trying to reach his and he forced himself to let his defenses down. It took everything he had to let her in, but after several moments he could feel her thoughts and feelings within his own mind.

“We’re ready,” Diana said.

At least he thought she spoke, but he wasn’t sure. It was possible that he just heard her thoughts within his own head.

“Relax,” Diana said.

The next moment the room seemed to spin away. It felt exactly like the last time he had left the castle and returned to his world, but at the same time it felt different.
Even with his eyes closed, Flare could tell that things were spinning, but it didn
’t seem to bother him this time, at least not like before.

His feet hit the ground and Flare opened his eyes. With a start he realized that he was back in the clearing where the battle had taken place. The corpses of the creatures were still lying where they had fallen.

He yanked the sword from its sheath and spun, looking all around. There wasn’t any sign of Thomas or Jordan.

“Flare, be care…” Diana’s voice started to say but it cut off in mid-sentence. With a certainty, he knew the doorway had closed and he was alone. For a moment, he relaxed knowing that his mind was once again all his own.

Looking around, Flare realized that he was standing in the exact spot where they had made camp the night before, but the fire pit was the only visible reminder of their camp. All three packs were gone. Even Bran’s body was missing.

Flare frowned, confused. What had they done with Bran’s body? It seemed certain that they didn’t intend to carry it all the way to Mul-Dune, but then again
the fort couldn’t be that far away
. Perhaps they would carry it the
half a day or so
to the fort.

He scanned the thick trees that grew all along the edge of the clearing. The sun had come up in the couple of hours that he had been away and it was a nice clear day. He could see everything in the clearing, but anyone or anything could be hiding in the tangled mess of vegetation
that formed
its
boundary
.

He considered reaching out with his spirit. He should be able to locate the two humans fairly easy, but Thomas would undoubtedly realize what he was doing and hasten their escape.
He didn’t want to scare Thomas away if the two men were still in the area, but he had to do something. He cast around for an idea. In desperation he seized control of his spirit and began examining the clearing. He avoided the corpses but searched the rest of the clearing for any sign of his former captors.

His heightened senses quickly picked out signs of people leaving the clearing. The tracks headed southeast, towards Mul-Dune.

Panicky, Flare considered charging off after the men. They most likely would be walking, since
Jordan
was injured and Thomas must be carrying Bran’s body. Their two hour lead was sizeable, but not insurmountable.

He resisted the urge to run blindly into the forest, something didn’t feel
quite
right to him. He considered again why they had taken Bran’s body. It simply didn’t make any sense. The body would slow them down and Thomas’ main concern now had to be to get Ossendar to Mul-Dune.

Flare still held his spirit. He closed his eyes and sent his spirit out to the southeast
, slowly though, in a probing manner
.
There was plenty of life that way, animals abounded, but nothing sentient. Frowning now, he directed h
is spirit farther and farther. T
hrowing caution
away, he searched far and wide
and at last he found what he sought, well sort of. He could sense one human moving in a southeasterly direction.

Forcing himself to breathe slowly, Flare fought through the anxious and panicky thoughts. There had to be a reasonable explanation as to why he could only feel one of them out there.

The first thought that came to mind was that
Jordan
’s injuries were worse than he had previously realized. Perhaps the man had died after the battle this morning. That really didn’t make any sense either. If both Bran and Jordan had died, surely there would be a body or some other sign. As it was, there was nothing.

He considered for another couple of moments and wondered if they had gone in different directions. This also was rather unbelievable. The only reason he could think of for them to split up was to set some sort of trap. If that was the case the tracks leaving the clearing should go in different directions.

He sighed deeply and a memory came to him. Gregeggor had taught him how to shield his presence from other sorcerers using something called a concealment ward. He hadn’t thought of it sooner, because it was rather advanced sorcery and Thomas’ skills had been rather basic for the most part. The more he thought about it, though, the more he remembered inconsistencies.
While most of the sorcery that Thomas used was rather basic, he had, on occasion, displayed more advanced skill.
Perhaps the monks had gaps in their knowledge.

Flare began walking, following the steps of the two humans, all the while he was thinking hard about what their plans may have been.

It seemed obvious that Thomas was trying to shield himself from
being discovered by Flare
. If the monk thought he could hide himself, then it would make sense for Thomas to be lying in wait somewhere along the path that Jordan had followed. They had to suspect that Flare would do everything possible to retrieve Ossendar.

Flare paused just short of the trees, still thinking hard. If he followed the trail blind, then he would have to go slow so as to make sure that Thomas didn’t surprise him. There was another option but he wasn’t sure it was such a good idea. He had learned another ward that would arc outwards from the sorcerer, and it should shatter the ward that Thomas was using to hide himself. The problem was, as soon as Flare did this, then Thomas would know his plan had failed and he might run. Flare desperately wanted to catch the man
and not let him get away.

After a moment or two of thought, Flare closed his eyes and concentrated as he had been taught. He kept his eyes closed, marshalling his spirit. After nearly a quarter of an hour of preparation, Flare opened his eyes and felt the power flow outwards in all directions.

His whole body sagged and he nearly collapsed.
He was exhausted. His body had been pushed beyond its limits, first by his imprisonment and now he was pushing it too hard
with this necessary bit of sorcery
.

He breathed deeply for several moments and then tentatively reached out again. This time, he found another’s presence less than a quarter mile from his current location.

Chapter
9

Flare jogged at a reasonable pace in the direction that his former captors had gone. One of them, he assumed it was
Jordan
, was a good ways to the southeast. It was worrisome that the man was so far away, but he had bigger concerns much closer.

He was rapidly approaching the location of the second person, and this had to be Thomas.

Flare was tired and his body had been through an amazing amount of abuse over the last several weeks, but he still eagerly wanted to catch Thomas. He owed the man so much.

He could still feel the monk’s presence. There had been some basic movement, right after Flare had used a powerful amount of sorcery to defeat the other’s concealment ward. Thomas was probably coming out of whatever hole he had hidden in. He had to know there wasn’t any point in hiding now. Flare was just relieved that the monk hadn’t begun running.

He was in the trees again. The forest was quite thick here, but the trees were thicker than the underbrush. Some of the tree trunks were blackened, as if by a fire, and that seemed to have kept the underbrush from getting too thick.
It was actually rather pretty. The tall trees reached into the heavens and covered Flare and the surrounding area in shade. Bright green bushes and undergrowth covered the ground, but still here and there the black remnants of the fire peeked through.

Flare slowed from a jog to a quick walk. He could sense the other’s presence and didn’t want to charge into the situation blind.

Cresting a small rise, he looked down on a break in the forest. A gap of about twenty yards separated the trees on this side, from the trees on the other
side
. At first, he thought it was natural, but as he got closer he could see that it was an ancient stone road that ran through the forest. He stopped and gazed in wonder on the scene. He knew that there were old roads in the forest on this side of the mountains, but this road had been built by masters. Even after such a long time without any use, the blocks still sat close together. Only a few, here and there, had been dislodged by roots and such. The road ran from Flare’s left to his right, east to west.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” Thomas’ voice called out from the far side
of the road
.

Flare slowly turned to look over at the monk. “Yes,” he called back after a moment. “So, your plan was to catch me by surprise?”

Thomas nodded, “Yes, but I guess that doesn’t much matter anymore. Whatever it was you did nearly made me fall out of the tree where I was hiding.”

Drawing his sword, Flare stepped out onto the old road. “Where’s Ossendar?”

Grinning, Thomas made a vague wave behind him. “I sent it on with
Jordan
. It’s beyond your reach now.”

“Perhaps,” Flare answered. He remembered Bran’s missing body
and spoke before he thought, “A
nd Bran? What did you do with him?”

The grin slid from Thomas’ face and he became more serious. “I wasn’t about to leave him for the animals. I buried him just inside the tree line. Adel willing, it’ll keep the buzzards and such from him.”

Silence descended between them and Flare moved slowly across the road. He kept his sword pointed at Thomas the whole time.

“How did you escape?” Thomas asked. He still had not drawn his sword.

Pausing briefly in his approach, Flare considered refusing to answer, but dismissed that at childish. “The pouch is a doorway. When I stuck my hand in, it took me,” he paused searching for the right word, “away.”

Thomas shook his head, smiling ruefully. “In the end, I was beaten by something so insignificant.”
He had barely finished speaking, when he yanked a concealed sword out from behind his right side and stabbed at Flare.

Flare hadn’t seen the attack coming, but with his sword out in front of him, it was still easy enough for him to deflect the blow.

Thomas backed away slightly and stepped onto the edge of the road. He held the sword with his right hand and a long knife with his left.

“Are you man enough to fight me without sorcery?” Thomas asked.

Flare grinned. “I know what you’re doing,” he answered. “You don’t actually think I’m foolish enough to give up the one advantage that I have, do you?”

“Made sense to try,” Thomas answered with a shrug.
Once again, the monk had barely been done speaking when he charged. He swung his sword in a horizontal swing, which Flare blocked with his own sword and then the monk stabbed out viciously with the knife in his other hand.

It would have been the death of him, but Flare reacted instinctually and blocked the knife with sorcery. There wasn’t anything between them, but the knife, and Thomas’ hand, stopped as if they had hit a stone wall.

Thomas gave a half-hearted slash with his sword and backed out of range again. He looked down and grunted. The knife blade had cracked, nearly shattering. He threw the useless weapon away and grasped his sword with both hands.
He took a step close and jabbed the long sword.

Flare parried the blow, knocking Thomas’ sword down and to his right. Wanting to take advantage of Thomas’
momentarily being off balance, Flare reacted on instinct and punched out with his left hand. The blow landed on the right side of the monk’s face, causing him to stagger backwards.

Now it was Flare’s turn to press the attack. He stepped forward and slashed his swords downwards. Thomas managed to block the blow and both men momentarily lost their balance.
Flare was in position to strike again, but Thomas used his own bit of sorcery to knock Flare away.

This was taking too long. If
Jordan
was making for Mul-Dune then every moment counted dearly. With a start, Flare realized he was out of breath. His long imprisonment was taking a toll on his body. Thomas had backed up and Flare realized the monk was just trying to delay him now. He was hoping to get all the extra time that he could for
Jordan
.

Flare took a deep breath and calmed himself. His heart was still beating furiously, but at least he got his fear and anxiety under control. This fight was little more than a delaying tactic and he didn’t have the time to waste. He knew what he had to do
. This fight had to end, and it had to end quickly.

Raising the point of his sword again, Flare took a quick step towards Thomas. The monk raised his sword to a defensive posture and waited on the attack to come.

Flare leveled a massive overhand swing and Thomas blocked the blow. Jumping back quickly, Flare stabbed straight outward with his sword and at the same time he used his spirit to grab the other man’s sword. Thomas suddenly found his sword frozen in mid-air as he tried to deflect Flare’s sword.

Flare felt his sword slip between Thomas’ ribs and emerge out his back. The monk’s eyes widened and a trickle of blood ran down the side of his mouth. He opened and closed his mouth several times, like he was trying to talk but no sounds came forth. He stared at Flare with wide eyes, almost as if he was accusing Flare of cheating. It didn’t help that it felt like he had cheated.

Out of the distant past, a memory surfaced. A memory of his Guardian training. It had been the day he won the right to command his squad.

“Flare, what is the objective of a fight?” Sergeant Danlion had asked him.

He also remembered his response quite clearly; “To win, Sir!”

He waited another moment, watching Thomas die. The bastard had it coming, but
the
victory felt cheap, like Flare had been cheated out of the full affect of winning. After a moment he turned and jogged into the woods.

It was a little after mid-day when Flare killed Thomas and began his pursuit of
Jordan
. His last remaining captor was moving slowly, most likely due to the injuries he had received in the early morning battle. Neve
rtheless,
Jordan
most likely began his journey at least an hour ahead of Flare, which had to mean he was getting close to Mul-Dune.

Flare ran in a southeasterly direction and occasionally reached out with his spirit to verify
Jordan
’s progress. The guard was making slow but steady progress towards the fort. While Flare couldn’t yet sense those at the fort, there was a growing feeling whenever he reached out with his spirit. It was like he was standing in a dark room and a small but talkative crowd was approaching. He couldn’t see them and he really couldn’t hear them all that well, but the
sound
of their voices was growing.

He fought the urge to speed up and instead maintained the steady pace of his running. It wouldn’t do to catch
Jordan
only to pass out at the man’s feet. As it was
,
the mental and physical exhaustion of his captivity was weighing on
him
. His breathing was labored and he kept stumbling as he ran. Twice he tripped and fell, only to push himself back to his feet and continue his frantic run.

Continuing like this for
over
an hour, Flare began to despair of ever catching
Jordan
, even though the gap between the two men continued to shrink. There was absolutely no sign that
Jordan
knew he was being pursued.

The forests were still as thick as before. Few humans travelled this side of the mountains, and those that did come here obviously did not maintain any kind of roads or trails. Only by following
Jordan
’s trail did Flare avoid any need to backtrack. Still the thick underbrush pulled at his clothes and his arms were covered in minor cuts where stickers had latched on to him as he ran by.

He was soon sweating in the heat of the sun. It was truly a beautiful day. The sky was a clear blue and the sun shone down brightly. Birds flew overhead and squirrels and other small animals covered the trees. Whenever Flare checked on
Jordan
’s location, he also felt back the way he had come. The last thing he wanted was for some of the monsters that attacked them this morning to track him down.

After the first hour, Flare’s hopes began to rise. He knew he was getting closer. Ever time he checked
Jordan
’s position, the gap seemed to halve. He was nearing the other man, but
Jordan
was also nearing the fort.

A little over an hour and a half after starting his pursuit, Flare stopped momentarily and reached out to check on
Jordan
. He sensed that
Jordan
was less than half a mile away
and Flare felt a grin begi
n spreading across his face
. The elation quickly faded though as he sensed
three
other men approaching
Jordan
’s location.

The newcomers were coming from the general direction of Mul-Dune and they were moving
at a slow un-hurried pace
. “Must be on
foot
,” Flare muttered. He paused considering what to do and then moved quickly but silently forward. His desperate run was over and he took more time now, trading speed to remain quiet.

He checked again and realized that
Jordan
had stopped. It didn’t take long to
realize why, the three
men slowed and stopped in front of the guard.

Silently, Flare pushed his was through a thick wall of underbrush and looked down into a clearing.
The ground here was sloping upwards from the west to the east and the mountains farther to the east towered over them.
The sunlight glinted brightly off of the snow high up on the mountain top.
The ground, while sloping upwards to the east, was not at an unbearable angle and was covered by a thick layer of grass that was already a beautiful green. The trees were thinning and travelling would be undoubtedly easier, although it would also be much harder to stay hidden.

Flare looked in the direction that
Jordan
had been moving and realized with a start that he could see the walls of Mul-Dune. They were still far away but visible.

The ground dropped off sharply from where he stood, and the height gave him a good view of the forest to the west. The forest continued on for another couple of miles before they stopped at the edge of a massive river. He didn’t know what the river had been called, but he remembered it from his days at Mul-Dune. He had never seen it in person, but he had seen it drawn on the maps.

In the middle of the clearing,
Jordan
stood leaning against a boulder and looking
around
at the men who surrounded him. Even from Flare’s location, there was no mistaking the
men for what they were - hunters
.
Most likely, these men trapped animals for their furs and brought the pelts to Mul-Dune to trade. He had seen their kind before. In his experience, they were always a rough lot.
Swallowing hard, Flare looked around for any inspiration.

Nothing. Nothing occurred to him and
he
turned his attention back to the men. They were talking, but they were too far away for him to make out much. Seizing his spirit again, Flare focused again on the men and this time their words seemed to jump out at him.