Spirit Past (Book 8) (8 page)

BOOK: Spirit Past (Book 8)
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"Other than Ansas' notes, what is the connection between this place and Reiculf? Why would there be a call for help? And who is it for? It certainly isn't for the inhabitants of this realm. If so, it would be a waste of energy. The message is calling for them, but they won't come any closer. And, there's no one here to help. There's only the memory of Ansas himself, and Ansas..."

Enin recalled the sorcerer's fate. Ansas' essence had been taken into a realm of nonexistence, taken by Baannat. The picture became clearer and Enin did not like what he saw. Unfortunately, he could not dismiss what was happening. It required additional investigation, efforts that might prove painful to those with him. He looked to Ryson and Linda, for their memories would be the most distressing.

"I have to take you to a place that will remind you of an unpleasant past," the wizard announced, "but it is necessary. I can't ignore what is happening here."

Ryson's curiosity exploded.

"Where do we have to go?"

"Do you remember where you last fought Ansas, where you defeated him? It was a high plain upon a towering cliff created within the outer limits of this dimension. It was almost a bridge between the dark realm and surrounding existences."

"That's where Baannat claimed Ansas' essence," Ryson offered. "We left his body there."

"Yes, and that may be the key to what is happening here."

 

 

Chapter
7

 

Scheff climbed through the trees of Dark Spruce Forest as if he hadn't a care in the land. He smiled at the elf guards who let him pass freely through the perimeter of their patrols. He stepped across branches with a spring in his step and leapt from one tree to the next as cheerfully as a squirrel roaming through the forest with a large acorn in its mouth.

Despite his agreeable demeanor, his plans for the elf camp—particularly its leader—were far from pleasant. His cheerfulness was born out of the ease in which he moved through the outer guards. Not one sentry gave him a second look, not one elf asked him his intentions. Why should they? He was a member of the camp, one of their most powerful and able spell casters. His past might have contained certain missteps, but he had acknowledged his errors and worked to regain the trust of every elf.

As Scheff passed into the inner regions of the elf camp, he continued to smile, but his focus turned to several spells that were part of a large scale assault. Multiple incantations were needed, and though his control of the violet magic was strong, casting them all at once would require substantial concentration, a characteristic made somewhat diluted by his condition.

He was about to unleash pain and anguish, and while the diabolical plan was crystal clear in his thoughts, the desire to cause such torment was not his own. It wasn't as if he was under the influence of a serp. Though Macheve had trapped him in Dark Spruce, it was Reiculf's magic that bound him. The powerful magic of the demon master suppressed certain aspect's of the elf's identity—such as conscience, integrity, and empathy—and intensified the influence of a checkered past.

It was as if the elf spell caster's mistakes earlier in life returned to the forefront of his mind with ultimate supremacy. Scheff's full memory collapsed, and only small pieces of his past took shape in his thoughts. Those memories became more than simple images, they became driving forces, fueled by Reiculf's hateful energy.

It wasn't regret or remorse that seeped into his consciousness. There was no moral reflection of his past deeds, just recognition of their existence. Scheff's previous errors in judgment, born out of arrogance, flooded out all other considerations. They overwhelmed his understanding of the present and future. They directed his thoughts and actions as if they were his only source of inspiration. It was like drowning in the errors of his own personal history.

Once near the center of the elf camp, Scheff dropped from the trees and stepped into a wide clearing. Despite his great power, he was just another elf, and he could walk among them without causing the slightest stir. As he moved past the other elves, he dismissed their presence, save for one.

After surveying the area, he fixed his sight upon the elf elder, Shantree Wispon. He knew the elf guards would protect her at all cost, and once the assault began, they would most assuredly remove the camp leader from any potential danger. He knew they would guide her to the most secure area they could find, but that would work to his advantage. What he could not afford, however, was losing track of her in the confusion. While he could not allow that to happen, he also had to cast a number of spells within the camp before he attempted to take control of the elder... and confusion was an integral part of his scheme.

Though his power was magnified by the immeasurable strength of Reiculf's spiteful energy, the elves were powerful in magic. There were several spell casters within the camp, and if given the opportunity, they might be able to save the elder, not an acceptable outcome, and a mistake Reiculf would certainly not forgive.

In order to avoid a fatal error, Scheff cast his first spell with subtle misdirection. He whispered an incantation into the wind, and his magic cut across the interior of the camp as nothing more than a light breeze.

The spell itself contained no malice. It served as a monitoring tool used by elves when managing large groups. It ensured that all would be accounted for during travel. Scheff, however, altered the spell ever so slightly so it would mark every elf differently.

None of the other elves noticed the spell, or if they did, they discounted it as the routine surveillance of watchful elf guards. Even the most sensitive to the magic failed to recognize a malicious purpose in the ordinary casting. Elves traveled about the forest with casual ease, and magic was often used to monitor common activity.

The spell drifted lazily through the forest, leaving an imprint on each elf. It released a subtle signal to those who knew to look for it. Scheff noted the faint whisper that surrounded the elf elder. It was nothing more than a mere petal in a field of magical flowers, but it was enough for him to follow. He had Shantree marked.

With all the necessary preparations complete, the time had come for his betrayal. He began the assault with theatrical deception. He stalked about the center of the camp, staring into empty air. He stretched out one hand, and then the other as he seemed to grasp at something that wasn't there. He shook his head, muttered with confusion, but continued to prowl about the empty grounds, unsettled and distraught about something no one else could see.

His actions did not go unnoticed. Elf guards protecting the center of the camp watched the elf spell caster with growing alarm. They knew of Scheff's abilities and history, but their concern did not focus upon his past mistakes. They were aware of his magical prowess, and Scheff's behavior appeared to be focused on something beyond physical substance.

Unwilling to allow the uncertainty to continue, they signaled for the captain of the elf guard, and Birk Grund made his way toward the center of the camp. Before he could question the elf spell caster, mayhem erupted.

"We are under attack!" Scheff shouted, but there were no invaders visible. The elf spell caster pointed to empty air, even as the other elves searched for raiders of any kind.

Birk rushed to Scheff's side.

"What is happening?" the elf captain demanded.

"A cloak of invisibility hides them."

"Who?"

"River rogues! They have already breached the outer patrols."

Birk instinctively looked to the grounds and surrounding brush. Even rogues cloaked in spells should have been detected by highly trained elf guards.

"But there are no signs," the captain questioned, "even if invisible, there would be other indications."

"I do not understand it, either," Scheff lied, "but they are there!"

"How many?"

"Hundreds."

Hundreds of river rogues invading the center of an elf camp was a peril too dangerous to ignore. Even if he could not see or hear them, Birk had to accept the warning as legitimate. Without being able to pinpoint the location of the enemy, his first order focused on defense.

"Everyone in the trees! Move to elevated positions. Guards! Bows to the ready!"

The maneuver was expected by the cunning elf spell caster and Scheff moved forward with his plans.

"I will cover our escape."

Scheff placed his hands together and a perfect circle of violet magic rolled around his wrists. With a snap of his hands, the ring of energy expanded instantly into a thick, blanket of fog that rushed outward in all directions. In a matter of moments, the entire camp was engulfed in a churning mist.

"What are you doing?" Birk commanded. "We can no longer see!"

"And they cannot see us. The odds are even."

Birk fumed. The spell caster had acted on his own. While there was logic in the tactic, it created further obstacles for his elf guards.

Scheff, however, pressed forward, disregarding the elf captain's anger.

"Continue with your defensive maneuvers," Scheff demanded. "I will engage the creatures."

Birk had no choice. He had given the order to find safe haven and every other elf in the camp chose to obey.

All across the forest, elves were leaping into the trees and climbing toward high branches. Elf guards formed pickets at the lower limbs. They prepared to unleash a barrage of arrows against any foe, but nothing disturbed the swirling and expanding fog.

The captain realized he was covered in the thickening mist. His elf guards could hear him, but they could no longer see him. He needed to rectify that without delay, but to do so meant leaving Scheff, and the elf spell caster was apparently the only individual who could locate the enemy.

"Scheff! Follow me! I need you beside me!"

"No time! I have to cast this spell or they will not be stopped."

Scheff unleashed another wave of violet energy and flashes of blinding light erupted across the forest floor. Lightning struck in a hundred places at once and the roar of thunder was deafening. The explosions knocked over several trees and started a few small fires, but even the flames could not pierce the billowing fog.

The titanic rumbles of thunder silenced the elf captain. He could not be heard over the roar, and deep in the fog, he was completely invisible to the elves in the trees. Unable to communicate in any fashion with his guards, he had no choice but to leave Scheff and scramble to a higher elevation.

Alone on the forest floor and completely engulfed in a dense fog, Scheff unleashed yet another spell, one that no elf would imagine he would ever cast. He had stated that hundreds of river rogues had attacked the camp, and it was time to make that assertion a reality.

Keeping his hands low to the ground, he called for a portal; one that would fill the entire expanse of the clearing at the center of the elf camp. A gateway formed to the dark realm where Macheve waited with a small army of rogues.

With Reiculf's magic within her, it was beyond simplicity for the serp to gain control of such mindless monsters. Directing them to attack an elf camp required so little influence that Macheve simply had to point to the portal, and the host of creatures jumped through with vicious glee.

The rogues emerged into Dark Spruce in the midst of a thick fog. They could not see the enemy, but they could smell them. They raced from the portal, avoiding Scheff, for they could sense the presence of Reiculf within him. They ran to the base of every nearby tree and peered up into the branches where they knew their prey had taken refuge.

Scheff remained pleased with the confusion he created. The rogues had gained entrance into the center of the elf camp and no one suspected him. That, however, would soon change, but it no longer mattered. It was time the elves realized that they had been decimated by one of their own.

Calling on more of the violet energy of the storm, Scheff cast a spell high into the air. A windstorm raged across the skies, but the force of its power only touched upon the higher branches of the trees. It did not break to the ground and disrupt the swirling fog. It rattled every limb, shook them violently, but the heavy mist continued to cover the presence of the river rogues.

Despite their ability to cling to the thinnest of branches, many elves fought desperately against the sudden burst of hurricane winds. As limbs broke and huge trunks shuddered against the upheaval, the elves were tossed about like small boats in the heavy surf of a raging ocean. Those that could not retain a firm hold or stable footing, crashed through a myriad of branches, many suffering severe injuries. Injured or not, they were easy prey for the throng of ravenous river rogues waiting below.

Havoc raged across the elf camp. Shrieks of agony erupted from the fog as blood spilled across the ground. The winds howled like ferocious dragons roaring through the skies. Thick trunks and limbs groaned and creaked against the swirling storm. With the branches of a thousand trees rattling like an infinite number of bones cascading down a rocky ridge, it seemed as if chaos embraced all of
Dark Spruce Forest.

Birk Grund battled desperately against the elements to rally his forces and counter the surprise attack. Even above the rumbling thunder, he could finally hear the rogues below, but he still could not see them through the thick mist. That was true for all the elves, and even if his archers could find the momentary stability to fire their bows, they would not be able to see their targets.

Very little made sense to the elf captain. The heavy fog from Scheff's spell continued to hamper their efforts and actually aided the rogues. The howling winds made communication among his guards close to impossible, even as the gusts dropped more elves to the ground. Scheff's spells were causing more harm than good.

He called out to the spell caster, but there was no response.

Scheff actually heard the captain, but disregarded the calls with a smug smile. He reached back to the faint whispers of his first spell and took hold of the magical beacon that he attached to the elf elder. It was growing fainter. He knew a contingent of elf guards were escorting Shantree Wispon away from the camp. He would have to follow or he would risk losing her.

Before he set out after the magical trail, he called into the portal.

"Macheve! We must go!"

After the serp leapt through the rift, Scheff closed the gateway and led Macheve away from the turmoil that had swallowed the elf camp.

As Birk continued to call for Scheff, another elf spell caster leapt to a branch by the elf captain. Fighting the winds and swaying branches, Haven Wellseed had searched desperately for the guard leader, and when she reached him, she revealed unsettling news.

BOOK: Spirit Past (Book 8)
5.57Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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