Arise Page 2

  Shall I send creatures or humans, my Lord?

  Both.

  It will be done. Do you require anything else, my Lord? The First of the Five had watched over Phelwen Semaj for centuries, he had carried out countless silent orders, had protected and waited, all without thought or protest. But even as he sent the words he was expected to say, Logannus knew something had changed, something more than just his Lord’s physicality. This was something in himself. For the first time he could remember, Logannus was … tired.

  Time, my Fallen One. Only time.

  Logannus bowed and left Semaj to the appreciation of his new body – the manifestation had been difficult, it had drained his Lord of much of the strength he had regained. Semaj needed the time to again draw the unused magic of the land into him, to again surround himself with it and become it, so that he could reclaim what had been stolen from him. Time spent now ensured no possibility of failure when he made his move. But Logannus, for the first time, had his doubts.

  The girl was more of a threat to Semaj than the Lich King would admit. She had survived too long once Semaj had decided she must die. It was unheard of. There was a power in her, as well, something dangerous and almost … familiar. Logannus shook his insubstantial head, banishing the thoughts. Memories were dangerous things in the Witherin, and there was no place far enough that his thoughts were free of Semaj. Logannus could not afford to rely on his Lord’s new obsession with his physical body as a distraction from the potentially traitorous thoughts of the First Fallen.

  He paused in the pale violet glow of the corridor, focusing. He sent his Lord’s intent to the other minds gathered, showing them the girl as the boy in Gira had last seen her – faded red curls, weakened, surrounded by her companions. They would find the companions; they would find anyone near her that they could take foothold in.

  Kill her, he insisted. This must be done.

  A sense of acceptance washed over him, a feeling of motion and purpose. Logannus left it at that. It would be done, or it would not. If they failed, others would succeed. She would die. And Semaj would rule again.

  Unbidden, a thought presented itself to Logannus’ mind. It was the kind of thought that, should his Lord know he had thought it, would earn him such torture as he had never imagined possible before his Fall.

  What if she lived? What if she triumphed?

  If Semaj were to be defeated, could he, Logannus, finally die? After centuries of existence in the non-physical, an eternity of life without life, could she give him the gift of death? He had nothing else but the dim, fading knowledge of his former self, and the inarguable weight of his unforgivable failure.

  Death was a blessing Semaj would never grant, but this girl … if she were to— no. Logannus wiped the very consideration from his memory and moved onward. There was work to be done, forces to be organized. All must be ready for when his Lord regained his strength; all must be prepared to move on Semaj’s command, whenever it would come.

  For his part, Logannus hoped it would be soon.

  3

  “We don’t make breakfast no more, stranger, and lunch isn’t ready.”

  The sign out front read “Sassy Wench,” but Brody Douglas thought the girl behind the empty bar seemed anything but sassy. He smiled at her anyway, limping up to sit in the face of her disinterested stare and rest his weary leg. What he would have given for a horse on this past week’s journey, he thought, rubbing at the soreness in his hip.

  “Hungry I may be, but I can find food along my way. Tell me, what is your name? Are you the sassy one?” His mama - may her soul rest peaceful - had taught him to be polite and friendly, and he was as determined to make this plain-looking girl smile as she was determined not to.

  She grimaced and scrubbed half-heartedly at the bar in front of him.

  “No, Senna’s the wench, but she’s gone. I’m Lesha – she put me in charge until she gets back. There’s been precious few customers since she went, though.”

  Brody looked around, noting the deserted room. “Well, I wouldn’t be too downhearted, lass. Business is slow all over, it seems. Strange things are happenin’, they say, and I’ve seen a few myself. People are staying close to what they know, is all.”

  His eyes grew distant as he remembered the voice that had surfaced in his mind unbidden and unwelcome a few days ago, whispering that familiar-strange word – Lothaedus. The voice had carried with it a sense of command, and most disturbing was that he found himself wanting to answer … He didn’t, of course. Brody didn’t hold with talkin’ to the voices in your head, that was madness.

  “I’ve seen more than my share of strange, thank you. Are you drinking?”

  Brody returned his attention to the girl still scrubbing the counter as though a speck of dirt could have existed there.

  “Ale, thank you. What kind of strange would that be?” He slid the coin across the bar, but didn’t reach for the mug she set in front of him.

  “You first,” she said. “I could use a good story.”

  Brody sat up straighter, beaming. “Oh, now stories I’ve got, lass. Do you want adventure? Tragedy? Maybe I could tell you of the monster I met in the woods.”

  “That one,” Lesha said, a flicker of interest in her dull brown eyes. “The monster. Which woods?”

  “The woods right out your back door,” Brody said, gesturing. “Between here and Ravenglass it was, and a more terrifying beast you never did see. Bigger than the biggest wolf, eyes that glowed yellow in the moonlight, and teeth to make your knees go weak with fear.”

  “You saw it?” Lesha looked skeptical. “Close enough to see eyes?”

  Brody nodded. “Twice I seen it, and twice I survived,” he assured her, pushing the lock of sandy hair out of his eyes. “I swear it on the soul of my mama - may her soul rest peaceful. This last time I had to jump in the river to get away!”

  “In this cold? You’d die.”

  “I near about did,” Brody said, and the memory drove him to finally reach for the ale. “But where else was I to go? The monster had my scent, I knew it soon as he went to howling. I’m not much of a runner since I hurt my leg, and I could hear him coming through the trees for me. The river was the safest place.”

  Lesha was leaned forward now, her whole attention on Brody. “What happened?”

  “Jumped in the water after me, it did,” Brody said, taking another swallow of his ale. He was caught up in the story as well. “I was ahead of it, but I could hear him growling. He meant to have me, river or no.”

  “How did you escape?”

  “A boat, miss. A miracle, that was. The current pushed me into a rock so hard I almost broke my leg again. I swung around towards shore, and that’s when I saw the boat. Well I was in no shape to run on land, so I pulled myself in and pushed right back off down the river. The beast chased me all night,” he said, his eyes distant with the memory of the cold, terrifying hours spent freezing in the tiny boat that only barely managed to keep ahead of the monster that had his scent and would not relent.

  “I must have fallen asleep,” he said, breaking out of the memory and draining the last of his drink. “I woke to strangers taking care of me in Riverchill. I was sick with fever for days, but at least the beast was gone.”

  “You were in that boat all the way to Riverchill? And you came back here?”

  “Walked the whole way,” he affirmed, rubbing his sore hip again. “Not the first time I’ve slept in the snow.” And not the last, either, he thought.

  Lesha brought him a second ale, refusing his coin. “It was a good story,” she said, dismissing his second offer of payment. “Though I would have stayed in Riverchill for the winter, if it was me.”

  “I couldn’t,” Brody said simply. “I don’t mean to press, lass, but I’ve come lookin’ for a lady who I’m sure came this way. She’s no more than a girl, really, and I suppose there are some who might find her strange. She is my betrothed … she was terribly weak…”

  Recognition was app
arent on Lesha’s face. “Red hair? Scrawny?”

  “She is delicate, yes – have you seen her?”

  Lesha nodded. “Had to be her, though I don’t know about betrothed. Man brought her in for Senna— Senna doesn’t just own this place, she’s a Healer, too. Korith hasn’t been able to push this far east, so she’s pretty well known.”

  “When?” Brody was barely able to keep his excitement in check. How fortunate that Nia had found a Healer! “Is she still here? Is she healthy?”

  Lesha leaned on the counter comfortably. It was her turn to tell a story, and she had every intention of taking her time. It was nice to have someone interested in what she had to say.

  “That was more than a week ago, and I guess she did recover. It took awhile, but Senna can take care of most anybody with enough time. Once I hurt my leg real bad, I slipped on some rocks by the river, and I thought I wasn’t going to be able to walk again— I couldn’t even bend it right, but Senna worked on it for a few days, and I don’t even feel it anymore. Why that other Duke thinks Healers are evil, I don’t know. He should get hurt and need one, that might teach him.”

  Brody endured her story, gently prodding her back to the important part. “It’s no treat having a leg that gives you pain, miss, I know that for truth. It’s good you’re back well. Senna healed the girl, too, then?”

  “Aye, Senna took her to the river, though how water that cold could have been be good for her I don’t know. A whole bunch of men showed up when she brought the girl back – by the Break, could they eat. I spent most of my time in the kitchen once they got here. Anyway, half of them already seemed to know who this girl was, though not by the name Aggravain gave her.”

  Brody stared. “Aggravain … Pike?”

  Lesha nodded. “He’s the man brought your girl in, yes. You know him?”

  “We’ve met.” Brody thought of the stranger in Ravenglass, and how he had looked at Nia … Well, goodness can come from bad places, his old mama - may her soul rest peaceful - used to say. Good’s still good. Didn’t matter how or why Pike had brought Nia here; at least she got to safety, got to someone who could help her. That was all that mattered.

  Lesha was continuing on without pause. “They had a big meeting when she woke up, the whole lot of them. I had my hands full trying to feed them, and keep the dog from running all over the place. They said something about the Lich King, about him coming back, about how this girl could stop him. No one believed it, scrawny as she was. That’s when she showed what she could do… what she had done...” She paused, remembering.

  “I can’t explain it,“ Lesha continued with a brief shudder, “and I don’t want to. I wasn’t the only one didn’t like it, but d’you think I’d say as much after that?” She pointed at the floor behind Brody, where a dark red-brown stain had sunk into the well-worn planks.

  “Nia did that?” Brody was astonished.

  “Nia? That’s what Aggravain called her too, but the men who showed up called her Melody … I don’t know what her right name is. But no, she didn’t do it. That’s what happened to the boy who tried to kill her, and I’m not saying he was right—”

  Brody felt his heart lurch. “Someone tried to kill her? Is she all right?” He interrupted the girl’s recollection, his concern for Nia overwhelming his desire to be polite.

  “I guess,” Lesha said. “I didn’t see much. They said one of the boys stabbed her - the knife went right through Jovan’s arm and into her belly. You never saw so much blood. Senna said if Jovan hadn’t put his arm in the way, the blade would have gone too deep for her to heal. The next thing I knew, Senna and Jovan and the girl were in the kitchen and I was trying to keep the dog out of the blood and the rest of them were dragging off the body… It was Jovan that did it though. They said when he saw the girl bleeding he didn’t even think twice before killing that boy.”

  Brody frowned. “Who is this Jovan?”

  Goodness from bad places was one thing, Brody thought, but this man sounded almost too involved with his beloved. Nia was betrothed to him, his mind insisted, and perhaps he would have to teach this Jovan about propriety when they met. They would meet, Brody would make certain of that.

  She shrugged. “No one knows, really. Showed up out of nowhere with the others, but he sure knew that girl. She knew him, too.” Lesha gave him a strange look. “Not to offend,” she said, “but if she was betrothed to anyone, I would have guessed it was him.”

  Brody seethed with anger, but kept the smile bright on his face. “It was probably her brother,” he lied calmly. “We were heading to meet him when she and I were separated. You said they aren’t here anymore? Do you know where they went, when they left?”

  “They all left out towards Estfall a few days after Jovan killed that boy, whenever Senna had healed up the girl again. They’ll probably go to Tregon first, most people do. Senna was right there with them when they left – said the girl was pregnant, said she needed a Healer to look after her like the men couldn’t do. I’ve never seen Senna like that. There are people here that need her, and she just left the place to me. That’s your strange goings on, right there. Senna hasn’t let anyone else run this inn since she took over when her father died.”

  Brody’s face felt as if it were made of stone. Pregnant?

  “I’m sure you’ll do fine.” His assurance sounded wooden in his ears. “How long ago did they leave, did you say?”

  “I didn’t, but it was three or four days back they left. Listen, if you’re hungry I could maybe find something to make…” She was smiling at him now, but Brody Douglas didn’t care.

  “No.” The word was flat. “I have to leave now if I’m going to catch them.”

  Pregnant?

  Brody stood up from the bar, and dropped several more coins on Lesha’s rag. “Thank you for the information, miss.”

  He didn’t look back as he hauled himself out the door and towards the side of the building, ignoring the ever-present ache in his leg. That’s where the stable would be, and with several days to make up, he would need a horse.

  Pregnant.

  There was no money for a horse, but that hardly seemed important. How could she be pregnant? He couldn’t force his thoughts to move past that.

  He easily soothed the horse he was saddling, stepping over the body of the stable boy he couldn’t remember killing. It didn’t matter. He had to get to Nia – although Melody sounded familiar too. That name resonated in some dark corner of his mind. Was Melody her real name? What else did he not know about this woman?

  No matter. She was three days ahead of him (pregnant) in the company of a man who seemed to think she was his, and he could not forget that the beast that had attacked them - and later, just him - may still be out there. Brody Douglas rode out of the stable, heading hard for Tregon.

  4

  “We’re in the right spot,” Calder said, standing beside Jovan at the edge of the surging river. He pointed at a pair of huge, snow-covered rocks. “The ropes were anchored there. They must have snapped, and recently. You can see where they frayed.”

  Jovan shielded his eyes from the reflected winter sun, straining to see the far side of Storm River. “There’s no other way across,” he said, his voice heavy.

  “To get us all over, no. Tregon has the only other bridge, and that’s at least two day’s hike downriver. Longer, with all of us at this pace.” Calder looked over his shoulder at the rest of the group. All told, close to twenty of them had made the journey out of Gira eight days ago, heading for Duke Thordike in Estfall. There had been others, but after Nathen … several of the men had left in the night, unwilling to follow Jovan any further.

  “She can’t go much faster,” Jovan said, following his gaze. Melody sat atop the smoky gray mare, wrapped in her cloak. The red in her hair had faded to little more than copper highlights in the sun, and her skin seemed as pale as the snow itself. The only other horse was carrying what supplies they had brought for the journey.

  “She’s
improved some,” Calder observed, watching the girl swing down from the saddle and make her way through the snow towards them.

  “Not enough for us to go any faster,” Jovan said. The power within Melody could change the world, he knew, but only if she survived. That was why he’d delayed them in Gira, giving her a few precious days to recover her strength. She reached for his hand, and he squeezed hers.

  “Where is the bridge?” Melody asked, her cheeks pink from the wind and the walk.

  “Washed out,” Calder said. “It’s another two days down to the Tregon crossing.”

  Melody looked up, gauging the clouds. “Longer than that,” she said, pointing. “A storm’s coming. See?”

  They saw.

  “Can your circle keep out that kind of weather?” Jovan asked her.

  They wouldn’t have made the progress they had without her magic, he knew. She walked around the perimeter of their camp each night, encircling it with magic, just as she had on the island so long ago. Now, however, the power was so strong they could see it shimmering in the air as she shaped it, forming a protective shield around the entire group. Within the boundary of that circle, wind blew more gently and the cold was less biting, and there was a sense of safety no one could explain, but they had all come to appreciate.

  Melody shook her head. “Not like that, no. If we can get across the river and keep moving, we should only be in the edge of it.”

  Calder looked around. “We’re not going to be able to build a bridge in a day, Melody, even if there were any trees to use.”

  She smiled. “I have an idea,” she said, stepping closer to the rushing water. Jovan instinctively tried to pull her back, but she wormed her fingers free of his grasp. “I’m all right.” She looked around, finally pointing at one of the large rocks. “Will you help me up there?”