Shadowed by Demons, Book 3 of the Death Wizard Chronicles (3 page)

“Other than being worried, we’re fine,” he said, also in a whisper. “Ugga and Bard are starting a fire. I’m sure Elu will prepare a nice breakfast. Are you hungry? Will Laylah be able to eat? When will she wake up?”

Torg chuckled. “You always ask a lot of questions, though I’m beginning to find them endearing. Am I hungry? Famished is a better word. Will Laylah be able to eat? Probably not for another day or so, but we need to force her to drink some water. When will she wake up? As my Vasi master used to say, ‘Your guess is as good as mine.’ And allow me to answer your next question before you even ask it. Is she healed? She’ll be weak for a while, but otherwise healthy, I believe. The worst is over, my friend.”

Despite his envy, Lucius was touched. “I’ll get water,” he said softly.

“Let me get it,” Torg said. “I need to stretch my limbs and breathe some fresh air. Will you stay with her for a short while?”

At first Lucius wasn’t sure what to say. He was no longer frightened, but he felt even more like an outsider. Still, an opportunity to be alone with Laylah was too precious to decline.

“I’d be honored.”

When Torg was gone, Lucius crawled next to Laylah, wrapped the blankets more securely, and took her in his arms. The side of her face pressed against the fabric of his tunic near his heart. She breathed slowly but with occasional gasps, as if something in her dreams startled her. He stroked her cheek. Her skin felt clammy, and there were lines of dirt encrusted on her lips. He wet his index finger with his own saliva and wiped some of the dirt away, then continued to cleanse her with his tears. Since his encounter with the Hornbeam, he seemed able to cry at a moment’s notice. Was he losing his mind? Did he even have a mind?

One of Laylah’s legs jerked.

Lucius stroked her face again and tried to soothe her by humming, though he wasn’t much of a singer. His love for her filled him with bittersweet pain. If Laylah could not be his, it was better to learn it sooner than later. His mind pondered a life without her as his wife, and an entirely new future was unveiled. If Invictus were somehow defeated and they were all made safe, who was to say that he could not find a love of his own?

“How’s she doing?”

Lucius jumped.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,” Torg said.

“I scare easily nowadays. And I can’t seem to stop crying.”

Torg chuckled wearily. “Ah, Lucius
 . . .
I know what you mean. I’ve been the same way. For so-called fighting men, we must appear rather fragile.”

Lucius grunted. Then he stared hard at Laylah’s lovely face. “I’ve known her for more than seventy years. I’ve grown to love her so much. It’s
 . . .
painful
 . . .
to have to let her go.”

Without warning, Laylah flailed her arm. Both Lucius and Torg squealed. Afterward they laughed.

“Then again, if she moves around like that in her sleep, maybe I
don’t
want to be with her,” Lucius said.

They laughed even louder.

The sorceress lay still, as if silently pleased to witness the beginning of a friendship.

With tenderness, Lucius relinquished his hold on Laylah and allowed Torg to take her back. The wizard sat next to her and rested her head in his lap. He had brought a skin filled with water, which he drizzled onto her lips. Though she never opened her eyes, she managed to take some in her mouth and swallow. Torg gave her more. She swallowed again.

“A good sign,” he said to Lucius.

They sat for a while without speaking. Lucius was the first to break the silence.

“What was it like being in here with her last night? From outside the cave, it looked like a volcano. How did you manage to survive? I tried to crawl inside, but was nearly burned alive. And why was the eclipse so painful to her?”

“There you go again with your questions, Lucius. As for how I was able to survive? I am a Tugar by birth, and my body is not easily damaged. But the powers that I wield as a Death-Knower are what truly protected me. Your describing what happened in here as resembling a volcano is not so off the mark. Indeed, the white fire that burst from Laylah during her distress was every bit as lethal as an eruption. Still, I was able to contain it, with minimal damage to us—
and
the interior of the cave—though Obhasa and I were sorely tested.

“As to why the eclipse was so painful to her? I can only guess. There must have been dozens of times in her life when the moon became enshrouded with shadow, and it’s obvious she survived those occurrences with little harm. But this was the first time that a lunar eclipse followed a total eclipse of the sun. The two together proved too much
 . . .
almost.”

Torg looked down at Laylah’s face and smiled. “Despite the near disaster, I am hopeful. Invictus was also weakened, which proves that the sorcerer is not impervious to harm. Perhaps, before all is said and done, we can devise a way to defeat him.”

A voice from outside interrupted their conversation.

“Breakfast is ready,” Ugga shouted. “Little Elu has cooked up a dee-lish-us stew! Is the pretty lady hungry?”

The wizard and Lucius laughed heartily.

But then Torg grew serious again. “I would take Laylah outside, but I’m not sure how she’ll react to the sunlight. And right now, she’s too fragile to take unnecessary risks. Go and eat, Lucius—and when you’re finished, please bring a little for me.”

Once again, Lucius didn’t argue.

AFTER LUCIUS left the cave, Torg grasped the thick ivory shaft of Obhasa and positioned its round head a finger-length above Laylah’s eyes. A sheet of blue-green flame fell upon her face, tenderly cleansing her skin and working its way into her hair, ruffling it like a warm breeze as it subtly vaporized filth and oils. Then Torg slid Obhasa downward, cleansing her breasts, underarms, abdomen, and legs. He gently rolled her onto her stomach and swept the staff along her back and buttocks. Eventually she was as clean as if she had taken a soapy bath.

“I adore you, my love,” he whispered. “If it is within my power, you and I will never be parted. Do you doubt it?”

She moaned in response, but did not awaken. For the rest of that day and night, she slept soundly. The others remained outside. Bard and Ugga scouted the surrounding terrain, searching for signs of the enemy. Finally Elu dared an appearance in the chamber, and when that went well, Rathburt came next. When Bard and Ugga returned, each also squeezed in for separate visits. Torg gave Laylah more water, and she even swallowed a sip of wine and a bit of broth from the stew.

Early the next morning, the sorceress finally opened her eyes. At first, Torg didn’t believe what he was seeing, but then a pale light emanated from her pupils.

“Beloved,” he heard her say, “is this another dream?”

“Laylah, Laylah, Laylah,” was all he could manage. She closed her eyes again and slept. Around noon she sprang awake and announced she was hungry.

Torg called for Elu, and the Svakaran reacted quickly with a bowl of soup made from wild onions and chitterlings.

Laylah managed a few spoonfuls and then fell asleep again, as if drugged. When she woke later that afternoon, she became eager to leave the cave, needing to relieve herself somewhere in private. She managed to crawl shakily through the tunnel without aid. When she emerged, Lucius and the others applauded.

Luckily, the sky was heavily overcast, so bright sunlight wasn’t a problem. Torg led Laylah to a nearby copse and left her there alone except for Obhasa, which thrummed and glowed as if pleased to assist her. Eventually she emerged on her own, using the staff as a walking stick. A cool breeze swirled through her silky hair. Her beauty nearly caused Torg to swoon.

“You’re all staring at me like I’m an invalid,” Laylah said. But then she laughed. And they laughed with her.

“Elu’s soup was good, but I didn’t get nearly enough. What else is there to eat? I’m starving.”

As it turned out, there was plenty. Bard had slain a pair of geese with Mogol arrows loosed from Jord’s bow, and their bare carcasses were already roasting over a fire. They also had berries, nuts, and edible leaves and roots, which they found in abundance near the camp. When evening came, they sat together and feasted like royalty. For the first time in days, the rising of the moon did not seem to perturb Laylah, though she never released her grip on Obhasa.

By the time they finished their meal, the sky had cleared. Laylah wandered from their camp, all the while staring at the moon. Torg nestled beside her. She wrapped an arm around his waist.

“I was hoping you’d join me, beloved.”

“You’re not worried about Lucius?”

“When you’re with me, I don’t worry about anything.”

Torg squeezed her shoulder. “What do you feel?”

“Hmmm? I don’t understand.”

“When you look at the moon
 . . .
what do you
feel
?”

“Aaaah. I thought you were asking how I felt about you. But that’s obvious, isn’t it?” She laughed softly. “As for the moon, the
wrongness
is gone. It feels friendly to me. Replenishing. Like it used to.”

“I’m so pleased. Do you remember anything that happened the night of the eclipse?”

“Not much, I’m afraid. But somehow I knew you were there. You saved my life.”

“You saved yourself. I was humbled by your strength.”

“Don’t be foolish, Torgon. I’m the one who’s humbled. I’ve done nothing in my life to deserve you.”

“Now whose words are foolish? Let’s not waste our time on such talk. Instead, let’s discuss our future. If we’re to spend it together, we must find a way to survive the present. Though we’ve evaded the enemy for now, we remain in danger. The worst thing we can do is stay in one place too long. We’ve risked much with all these cook-fires. I hate to ask you this so soon, but I must. Do you feel strong enough to travel?”

“To be honest, I’m looking forward to doing some walking, especially if you allow me to carry Obhasa. Just don’t be in too much of a hurry and leave me behind.”

“Invictus himself could not force me to do that. What you really need is a month’s worth of pampering, but sadly we are not permitted such luxury. Let’s tell the others that it’s time to move on.”

Lucius was incensed. “Are you insane? She’s barely able to stand, much less walk. How can you expect her to trek through these mountains in the dark? It’s too much to ask of a person who is well, much less Laylah, who’s barely recovered from her ordeal.”

“Nonetheless, it must be done,” Torg said. “Thanks to Rathburt and Laylah, we escaped Mala and the wolves. But Invictus will not rest until we are captured. These mountains will soon be swarming with his minions. We must pass north of Duccarita and reach Dhutanga as soon as possible. Once there, we can decide whether to skirt the forest or venture on to Cariya. Either way leads to the White City.”

“And if she drops dead of exhaustion?”

Torg was about to say more, but Laylah interrupted. “Torg is not forcing me,” she said. “But I will do whatever he asks, without question. Against the threat of Invictus, he is my only hope—
our
only hope. For my sake and yours, you need to stop arguing with Torg and start doing what he says. He wants the best for all of us. Surely you can see that by now. He loves us.”

“And we love ya too, Master Ogre
 . . .
er
 . . .
Hah-nah
 . . .
er
 . . .
what do we call ya, again?” Ugga said. “I gets confused.”

“Call him Master Showoff,” Rathburt said.

They laughed, loud and hard.

Even Lucius.