The Way of the Power (3 page)

Now it was her turn to be surprised — the soldier ducked and Viper dug deep into the trunk. Bark kicked out as the soldier kicked his beast onward. He vaulted right by Malja and ignored her. She would have to take care of him later. The maroon soldier fast approached, and she couldn’t afford to lose her momentum or she’d be stuck hanging in a tree.

Holding tight to Viper, Malja swung outward, whipping her feet forward. The maroon soldier had tried to sneak by on the opposite tree, but Malja’s heels caught the soldier in the face. He tumbled off the back of his mount and fell to the forest floor. The beast ran on a few feet before stopping, confused that it no longer had a rider. Malja let her body’s motion and weight pull Viper from the tree before gravity brought her down.

The soldier rolled to his hands and knees, moaning as he attempted to stand. Malja walked straight behind him. Using Viper’s hilt, she knocked him in the back of the head — no need to kill him. He no longer was a threat.

She spun back and headed for the lizard-beast. The saddle on its back looked close enough to what she knew from riding horses. She mounted the creature, picked up the reins and gave it a light squeeze with her knees.

It stood still — breathing heavy and smelling like a marsh.

She kicked with her heels.

It turned its head enough to look at her with one large eye.

“Yeah, I don’t know what I’m doing. But if you go now, I’ll find you some nice bugs to eat.”

The beast plopped down on the ground, lowered its head, and closed it eyes.

Malja shook her head as she dismounted. The blue soldier might have reached the girl and the guard. She had no more time to spare. Sheathing Viper on her back, she sprinted into the woods.

Less than a minute later, she heard the guard call out. “Over here.”

He stood off to her left, and when she reached him, she found the blue soldier and his beast slain by two precise and effective slashes. The little girl sat on a fallen log, her face blank as she looked at the trees.

“Did you get the other one?” the guard asked.

Malja nodded. “There’ll be more coming, though.”

“Naturally.” The guard pointed ahead. “There’s a creek over that way. We should follow it deeper into the mountains. The water will help hide our scent.”

“Those things can follow a scent?”

“They’re called
rogwells,
and yes, they can.” The clatter of numerous soldiers charging through the woods reached them. “Let’s go.”

The guard picked up the little girl and hurried further on. Malja followed.

Chapter 3

For a short time,
Malja only heard her own hard breathing and that of the guard. The trickle of water down the creek, the rustle of wind through the trees, even the charming songs of animals living in the forest — none of it penetrated Malja’s consciousness. The way forward consumed her as she pushed all her energy into her legs.

When snow began to dot the ground, the guard stopped. Exhaling a fine mist, he surveyed the area and waited for Malja to finish the last few feet. She waved him onward but he remained.

“Listen,” he said.

After a cleansing deep breath, Malja closed her eyes and focused on her ears. She heard it right away. “They’re fighting themselves.”

“Three armies all seeking the Artisoll — of course they’ll fight each other. But they’re still moving towards us. Even if one side prevails, we still have that army to be concerned with.”

“This is all about her, right? And you were part of a group transporting her somewhere. So, where does she belong?”

The guard stroked his mustache. “I don’t know exactly. But that’s my dilemma. I thank you for your aid, though I’m not sure you haven’t made the situation worse.”

“You may not know where to go with her, but I guarantee we don’t want to stop here.” Malja trudged by the guard and the girl.

“No.” The guard crossed the creek. “This way. I’m fairly sure there are caves around the other side of the mountain. We can hide there while the armies continue along the creek.”

“What about our scents?”

“It’s a risk, I admit. But I think we should take it.” He turned his back to Malja. “You don’t have to follow me. I’m only telling you where I’m going because you helped us.”

“No need to be bratty.” Malja jogged back and crossed the creek. Together, they headed perpendicular to the creek and climbed around the mountain.

Each step brought them higher, and every few minutes, Malja swore she could feel the temperature drop several degrees. Soon, snow covered the ground. Only a few gray rocks and brave saplings poked out of the white cold. Malja’s do-kha would have warmed her body but the strenuous hike did that well enough alone.

“Here,” the guard said and pointed to the side.

It was perfect. Only a few feet away, and Malja could barely tell that a cave entrance was there. She bent down and scuttled inside.

The moist air smelled fresh and full of life. The guard tapped a metal disc, and light burst upward to the ceiling. This first chamber had been used before. The wall near the entrance bore scorch marks from old fires. Though not uncomfortably small, Malja remembered camping in tents that were larger. At the back end, a corridor went off into darkness.

“You have a name? I’m Malja.”

“Most call me Stray.”

“And this little one? She’s called the Artisoll?”

The girl snuggled against Stray — not out of fear or concern but simply the way a little girl might curl up against a parent when she wanted to sleep. “That’s right,” he said, and rested his head back against the cave wall. Malja waited for a further response, but when she saw that nothing more would be coming, she sat opposite them and closed her eyes.

An hour drifted by. She spent her time listening. Three groups of fighting soldiers made a lot of noise, and she had no trouble hearing them rush forward, stop to argue, exchange fire, and rush forward again. She knew when they had discovered the dazed soldier and later the dead soldier and his equally dead rogwell. She followed their path clearly as their thumping footfalls muted when they hit the snow. She took note when they receded in the distance, following the creek away from the direction of the cave.

“Looks like we’re safe for now.”

Stray cracked open an eye. “For now.”

“Can I get a fire going yet or will they come back this way?”

“As long as we keep listening, we can get a fire going.”

Malja picked up what little bits of wood she could find. Others who had stayed in the cave had picked it fairly clean, but she found some. She also discovered a small pile of wood next to the scorched area. Nothing significant, but enough to get them through the night. If their stay lasted any longer, she’d have to take a trip outside to get more wood.

Patting down her long coat, she found an old flint in the top pocket. She hadn’t used it in a long time. Tommy always started the fires with his magic.

She missed him. The little waif she had saved from slavery and reared by her side. They had endured a lot together. She would not be alive, if he had not been with her. She liked to think the opposite was true, as well, but sometimes she wondered — if she had left him with some nice family, he would never have encountered the violent world she lived in. Yet he had grown into a fine young man. And a powerful magician.

Malja stifled a laugh. If she had been told that one day she might look upon anybody with pride at being a magician, she would never have believed it. But she couldn’t deny her feelings toward Tommy. He had proven more than once that magicians could be responsible with their abilities, that they did not all lose their minds from using their magic. At least, he had yet to lose his mind. While she was being honest with herself, she had to admit that every time he used his magic, part of her wondered if the destructive insanity which had plagued so many magicians, including the two who had stolen and raised her, would suddenly break forth. But it had yet to happen. In fact, each instance of magic seemed to make Tommy stronger and more of a decent person.

She had to strike the flint four times before the sparks took to the kindling, but soon after, she had an acceptable fire going. The little girl, the Artisoll, slipped away from Stray and put her hands out to warm them. Her face remained cold as ever.

“I need some answers,” Malja said. “What’s so important about her?”

Stray kept his eyes on the Artisoll. “Everything.”

“Let me be clear about this. I don’t like cryptic answers and I don’t like risking my life without knowing the reasons behind the risk.”

“You were never asked to risk your life.”

“Not yet. I saved her because of what I saw. Three armed forces battling over this little girl and only you left standing to defend her. But now she’s safe and she still has you to protect her. So, if I’m going to continue to help —”

“We did not ask for your help.” Stray crossed his arms and his muscles bulged. “And I’m not sure what you have done should be considered help.”

“They were trying to kill her.”

“Nobody wanted to kill her. Not until you stepped in and threatened to disrupt things. Which you’ve now done.”

“I don’t understand.”

“That is clear enough.”

Malja clamped down her anger. She thought of Fawbry and the way he could charm people with his words rather than beating the truth out of them. “Perhaps you could explain this to me so I stop sounding like a fool.”

Stray could not hide his surprise. “You really don’t understand? How can that be? How could you not know the Artisoll or that the Queen has been killed and what that means?”

“I’m not from here.”

“Here, there, it matters not. There isn’t a country on all the world that does not know.”

“There are more worlds than you could imagine.”

Stray’s surprise turned to stunned silence. His bottom lip quivered. “Are you a demon? I saw you spread your wings to deflect the bullets. Were you born in the underworld?” His eyes darted to the Artisoll as his hands inched towards his weapons.

“I am a traveler. Nothing more. I don’t have wings. Just a very special piece of clothing. You have nothing to fear with me — provided you don’t act rashly with those swords. I truly only want to help the girl.”

Stray appeared to weigh out what he heard and saw. He inched back, resting his hands in his lap. “If you are as you say you are, then you have stumbled into a situation you may wish to travel away from.”

“Because your Queen is dead?”

“Dead before she could transfer rule to the Artisoll.”

Malja glanced at the girl. “You mean she’s a princess?”

“No. She’s the Artisoll. The only being in all the world who can create magic. It is her duty, her destiny, to be the next Queen of Reo-Koll, and whichever country she resides in when she rises to power will be the ruling country for as long as she lives.”

“So that fight was between three countries?”

“Dovell, Ro, and Bechstollan — the three strongest countries of the Western Hemisphere. None of them expected to be fighting in that street; otherwise, they would each have brought full armies instead of a few hundred men.”

Malja’s stomach dropped. “And I stole the Artisoll away from them.”

“I think you’re starting to see the mess you created.”

“Damn Korstra.”

“Who’s Korstra?”

“One of the Brother Gods — the evil one. It’s just an expression. It means I’m angry at what has happened.”

A familiar voice spoke loud and strong from the mouth of the cave. “Well, my dear, there’s no going back. You can’t return what you’ve purchased here.”

Stray jumped to his feet, both his weapons ready to strike. Malja put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay. This is a fellow traveler. His name’s Harskill.” She stepped forward, and as an afterthought, she added, “Keep ready, though. Just in case.”

Harskill entered the cave, his eyes zeroing on the Artisoll. “You really did take her. I had thought that perhaps you would have left them in the woods once you thought they were out of direct harm, but I can see that you are determined to bring chaos with you wherever you go.”

“Me? You’re the one who wants to be a god to all worlds. I was only trying to help a little girl.”

“By destroying the political system of an entire world as well as trampling on one of the basic rights of all Gate? Interesting choice.”

“I didn’t do anything to Abrazkia or any Gate.”

“Each world has one Gate and only one Gate looking after it. For you to interfere with Abrazkia’s handling of this world is a serious breach.”

“Enough bickering,” Stray said, his voice booming off the cave walls. “How did you find us? Have you led the others here?”

Harskill pulled back his suit sleeve to reveal his do-kha. “Malja and I are of the same race and we all wear this special cloth. With it, I had no trouble locating her when she was so close by. And no, I did not lead anybody here. I’m alone. However, Abrazkia is also Gate which means she wears a do-kha, too.”