Link to Chapter 1 – Previous Chapter
“Damien?” Whiskey said in disbelief.
Rain could only stare in hatred, thinking of how he’d killed Arok’Amon.
“Oh that’s right,” the Demonmaster hissed. “You don’t know yet, do you, Wizard? It’s Dar’Quath.”
Taking advantage of his surprise, Dar’Quath threw his hands forward at Whiskey, who immediately dropped to his knees, shouting in agony.
Her uneasiness at hurting another being with magic vanished at the sight of Whiskey in pain. Remembering their previous fight, she gathered red energy in her palms and quickly released a bolt at Dar’Quath. She hadn’t had proper time to build up its power, but she wanted to do something to stop Whiskey’s pain.
It disappeared a foot away from him, but it disturbed his concentration. Something invisible seemed to burst in the air. She must have shattered some kind of shield. Whiskey gasped and panted beside her, released from the invasion of Dar’Quath in his mind.
“Rain, don’t interfere,” he said. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“You don’t want her hurt, you say?” Dar’Quath sneered. “How do you expect to protect her when you are so vulnerable? You spent the whole time she was away moping around, letting Myrna’s magic get to you.”
“Don’t listen to him!” Rain said.
“I’m telling the truth,” the Demonmaster smiled. Rain could tell he was weaving magic with his words. Whiskey was unusually emotional, putting his head in his hands.
“I’m sorry I failed you, Rain.”
“You didn’t fail me, Whiskey!” She grabbed his shoulders and made him face her. “Don’t listen to him. You did all that you could.”
“I didn’t think things out thoroughly. Everything’s lost.”
“No, it’s not!” Rain yelled, exasperated. She disregarded Whiskey’s wish for her to stay out of the battle and began gathering more energy to throw at Dar’Quath.
Dar’Quath started muttering, and a slight shimmering appeared around him. Again, she had to release her energy before it was truly powerful, to disturb his incantation. Once the bolt reached him, though, his muttering was finished. This time, inches away from his chest, the orange bolt made his shield flash white, and the bolt changed directions. It shot above Rain, nearly missing her head, and hit a tree branch far above them. The branch crumpled and cracked, falling to the ground.
Searing pain hit Rain’s head, and she relived the horrible memory of Shea’s strange possession, when he attacked Whiskey and Rowena in their common room in Belmaeron.
“I’m not making the same mistake twice,” Dar’Quath said. “That silly magic of yours can’t penetrate my shield. Oh, and Shea’s dead, just so you know.”
It was a blow to her heart. She held on strongly to his memory, and slowly brought her hand to her chest, with much effort. “No he isn’t! He can’t be!” She struggled to find her aegis under her shirt collar.
“Nearly so, my dear. I’m ever so sorry.” The magic strengthened on her mind. She relived all her most horrible memories of the past few weeks. Her parents’ death. Her dream of Shea becoming a dreamwalker. Somehow Dar’Quath had become much stronger than he’d been at the Hollow. At a sudden increase in pain, she gasped and fell to her knees.
Through the pain, she could faintly hear Whiskey yelling at Dar’Quath. Some part of her mind that was still logical noticed that Dar’Quath could only enter one mind at a time. She cradled her head in her hands, unable to think any further without causing more pain.
Suddenly the pain lessened, and Rain looked up. Whiskey had made a tree branch grow and wrap itself around Dar’Quath, breaking the Demonmaster’s concentration. As her pain was merely a dull headache, she started gathering red energy, this time more than she had ever collected at once. But she needed time.
“Why did you do it? What is Myrna up to?” Whiskey used the tree branch to lift Dar’Quath above the ground and let him hang there.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” the Demonmaster sneered. “Remember Edana, Rain? She was such a disappointment. Couldn’t even follow orders.” He started another spell while still in the grip of the tree, facing Whiskey.
At the mention of Edana and the memory of finding her dead, Rain nearly lost focus. She barely held on. “Whiskey! Don’t let him hurt you!”
“Don’t break your own concentration!” Whiskey yelled, and then the Demonmaster’s spell hit him, and he screamed.
The energy almost slipped from her grasp, but she forced herself to forget what was happening in front of her and felt her hands grow hot. A thick ball of red energy looking almost like fire grew between her hands. She threw her own rage into it, and then released it at Dar’Quath.
The force broke the tree branch that held Dar’Quath aloft and he screamed as he fell three stories to the ground. He landed with a sickening crunch, his yell ending abruptly. She looked over the edge of the staircase. He lay still on the ground, head and limbs twisted at unnatural angles. She had to look away.
“Whiskey!” He was on his back, face sweaty, skin pale. As if he’d had a horrible nightmare. No. Worse. She fell to her knees beside him.
She felt his forehead, brushing hair away. “You’ll be alright, won’t you?” Tears welled up in her eyes. “Whiskey?”
His eyes opened slightly. “I had to do it. Had to… distract.” His voice was tired. “Only way he could die. Now, you must… finish the job. Find Myrna.” He smiled at her. “Bring them back. I believe in you.” His eyes closed, and his jaw went slack.
“No, no!” She bent her ear down to his chest to hear a heartbeat. It was silent. She let her head rest there as the tears flowed from her eyes.
A clap of thunder sounded, and rain began to pour. The storm had begun.
***
Rain felt a hand on her shoulder.
“Sister, come. We need your power.”
She looked up through the raindrops to see Kalmin. Deep sadness filled his eyes. He held out his hand and helped her stand up. “Let your feelings give you power. The Wingmasters have come, and none of us have magic powerful enough to stop them. Aeraldor sent me to get you.”
Rain nodded. She finally put the hood of her cloak up, shielding her already soaked hair from the rain.
“We’ll get someone to tend to him. Come.” He started walking, but she didn’t follow.
“He’s gone. There’s nothing to tend to.”
Kalmin turned to face her. “Then we’ll get someone to take his body to where we can say goodbye in a good way. I don’t mean to be rude, Sister. We need you in the fight. He would want you to help.”
Rain couldn’t seem to make her mind work, but she managed, “How is the fight?”
“It’s strange. All the wild animals that had attacked us before became normal again, just a few minutes ago.”
“It was him,” she said, pointing at Dar’Quath’s body on the ground below.
Kalmin looked, and grimaced. “There is still a sizeable force of craetons to deal with, and we have reported sightings of two Wingmasters. With the number of healed soldiers coming from the infirmary, though, I think we have a chance.”
“Good to hear.” Then, she remembered. She stopped walking. “Shea.”
Kalmin smiled. “Aeraldor said you might mention him. He said to tell you that he sent another guard to see how he was doing. We need you at the front lines, Sister.”
She couldn’t bear thinking that Shea might be dead, too, so she forced it all out of her mind. “Alright. Let’s go.”
They descended the staircase, rain dripping off the trees above them. The sounds of fighting became louder. It was dark enough that they couldn’t see very far ahead. On the first level of the city above ground, where the archers were stationed, they approached Aeraldor and his soldiers.
She looked over the shoulder of the nearest archer at the ground below. Soldiers on foot were battling craetons, but in the center of it all, where no one approached, were the two Wingmasters. They wore black cloaks, just like the one she’d seen in Willshire, with a red insignia on the breast. She couldn’t see what it was from this distance, but knew it was a raven.
“Why aren’t they being attacked?” she asked Aeraldor. She remembered how Whiskey had snuck up on the one in Willshire from behind. Were these harder to kill?
“We can’t get close to them. They have some sort of invisible shield, and nothing we’ve tried has worked. I thought perhaps, with your sort of magic, you could do something.”
“I’ll do my best. But why haven’t they attacked you up here, with the archers?”
“I don’t know. They seem to be preparing something.”
She looked more carefully. The Wingmasters were chanting facing each other, their palms held upright, touching one another.
“Perhaps they’re creating the storm.”
“They can do that?” Aeraldor said, looking at the angry sky.
Rain began calling upon the red energy, readying to release the small amount necessary to break a shield like Dar’Quath’s. When she let it go, there was a shimmer in the air all around the Wingmasters in a spherical shape.
“Open fire!” Aeraldor yelled, and the archers shot at the Wingmasters.
In a split second, the Wingmasters had stretched out their hands toward the falling arrows and incinerated them with a quick blast of lighting from their fingertips.
They both turned toward the archer’s platform, and stared directly at Rain. She gathered more energy, hoping they wouldn’t steal her aegis like Dar’Quath had.
One of them smiled. “Well, look at that. She came to us. We don’t have to go searching after all.” The elven soldiers on the ground in the immediate vicinity stopped and stared at the Wingmasters in rigid horror. It gave the craetons they’d been fighting the advantage, and they were swiftly killed.
The other Wingmaster pouted. “Oh, but think of the bodies we’d have to work with, if we’d gotten the chance to raze this sorry city to the ground.”
“Not today, sis. She only wants that one.” She pointed at Rain. “And you know how she gets picky.”
“Alright then. Girl, come down. If you come by your own volition, we might spare the lives of your precious elven friends.” Rain realized everyone around her was frozen still. She reluctantly released the flow of energy to her hands, and they visibly dimmed.
Aeraldor gasped. “What was that? I’ve never been more afraid in my life.”
“It’s what they do,” she said. “I’d advise falling back, and letting me take care of this.”
He nodded, and they ran. She was soon alone on the platform, the craetons moved on to other soldiers further away.
In a sudden burst of inspiration, she remembered the spiders in the library on Straldun. Lynara had used orange energy. She did the same now, hoping the Wingmasters wouldn’t do anything rash. She wasn’t about to let all the things Whiskey and Shea did for her be in vain.
“Oh look, sis. She wants to play instead.”
“What sort of magic is that? A silly ball of light?” They started chanting. Renewing their shield or staring a mind-invading spell, she didn’t know.
She had two targets this time, so she tried something different, and let the energy grow in both her hands separately, like she did when she healed people, instead of concentrating it in one ball. She let the rage gather in her mind, thinking of all the horrible things that had happened.
The power came quicker than she expected, and after only a few seconds, it was ready to be released. She let the power from one hand extend toward one of the Wingmasters.
The Wingmaster shot lightning toward her orange beam of energy, but the second they touched, the lightning vanished. Rain was so surprised, she stopped the energy flow. Realizing she had had the advantage, she let the energy flow again, and released it. The Wingmaster shot lightning once more, but the beam of energy shot right through it and pierced the Wingmaster’s chest. It burned a hole straight through her, a small cloud of dust escaping her body. She screeched and fell to the ground.
The other Wingmaster screamed in surprise, but before she could protect herself from the same fate, Rain shot energy at her from her other hand. A hole burned through her and she crumpled to the ground like the other Wingmaster.
Unearthly screeches filled the air, and Rain realized it was the craetons. They’d lost all of their leaders now, Dar’Quath and the Wingmasters. They seemed to be controlled mentally, and without direction, didn’t know what to do.
She ran toward where the soldiers had retreated to, and found them on another platform, easily picking off howling, raving craetons.
“Aeraldor.”
“Thank you, Sister. I don’t know what we would’ve done without you. Their death seems to have made the rest of them crazy.”
“The battle isn’t over. Something occurred to me, from what the Wingmasters said. If they can make use of dead bodies, we’d do best to burn them.”
“We usually cremate the dead anyway, and release them back in to the earth. But I will make sure it is done swiftly.”
She nodded. “I’ll be back. I’ve got to see Shea.”
Aeraldor nodded, frowning, and Rain dashed up the staircase, toward the solitary confinement area. The rain had slowed and the clouds were disappearing above her, more quickly than was natural.
***
A healer stood in front of the door to Shea’s room, preparing herbs on a small table.
“Excuse me, I’m—”
“Sister Rain.” She smiled. “Rowena told me you’d come.”
“How is he?”
“Not good, I’m afraid. I don’t really know how this happened, but a guard came to check on him earlier, and the guard didn’t come out of the room for quite some time. I opened the door and found him cursed as well. I was just about to see if I could take the guard out of the room without getting infected myself.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ve got decent protection against the Soulblight. I’ll go in and see what I can do.”
“Thank you,” the healer said.
Fear hit her the moment she opened the door. It was in the air, a smell, a feeling. Shea lay on a cot of animal skin and wood. His eyes were staring straight ahead, and he was deathly pale. The guard lay propped against a wall, almost as white. She pulled the vial out from under her collar and hurried to the guard, giving him one drop of the cure. Putting her hands under his armpits, she dragged him to the door.
“Here, healer. He should be cured, but his body is still weak. You can give him the herbs, they’ll help.”
“Thank you, Sister. Will you need any help? Otherwise I’ll bring this elf down to the infirmary.”
“No, I’ll be fine, thanks.”
Rain went back inside the room and stood at Shea’s side. His eyes had grown dark. Tentatively, she touched his forehead. It was so cold. Fear raced into her, as if it ran up her arm from Shea’s body.
“So,” Shea spoke, the dark eyes looking at her.
Rain jumped back.
“You have defeated my sorceresses and that poor wretch of a man, Damien. He was weak anyway. Too bad this body is too frail to move, or I’d have you killed in a split second.” The voice was angry, but quiet.
“What have you done to Shea? Is he still alive?” Rain hissed, calling up her anger in case she needed to defend herself.
Shea smiled. “Your love is so strong. Commendable, really.” The eyebrows narrowed. “You may have stopped me this time, girl, but mark my words. I will hunt you. One day, I will find you, and kill you. The last moon elf shall not live.” Shea’s head fell to the side, slack-jawed, eyes closed.
“Shea!” She gently lifted one of his eyelids, and saw his eyes had returned to normal. The possession had stopped. She gave him a drop from the vial and held his head in her hands. “Please, Shea. Don’t die. I have no one else.” She kissed him on the forehead.
“Rain?” His eyes fluttered open.
“You’re alive!” She hugged him fiercely.
He grunted and she pulled back, realizing he was still weak. “I’m sorry, here. Let me help you.” She called on the yellow energy, letting it flow through her fingertips into his body. Visibly, she could see the color and natural warmth come back to his skin.
“Ahh,” he said. “Thank you.”
When he looked normal again, she let go. He sat up, stretching his limbs.
“How do you feel?”
“Great. Just a little tired.” He drew a sharp breath.
“What is it?”
“I remember.” He looked up at her. “I remember everything. Everything I did while taken by this curse. I’m sorry.” He stood up and hugged her. “I’m so sorry. I would never intentionally hurt you like that. Will you forgive me?”
Rain smiled, and in her relief at seeing him healthy again, kissed him. He pulled back, surprised. But he grinned in that way he did, and kissed her back.
***
They stood in a clearing. Rain, Shea, Rowena, Aeraldor, and a few others who had known Whiskey were in a circle around a pyre, on which Whiskey’s body lay. It burned bright in the night air, the rising smoke obscuring the stars above. A larger fire burned in the distance, taking care of the bodies from the battle, craeton and elf alike.
Rain held Shea’s hand and rested her head on his shoulder. She couldn’t help the tears. Shea let go of her hand and instead wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close.
Her thoughts went to the prophecy. Part of it had come true. She’d gained the trust of “those like her,” and they gave her the cure. Now, she knew she had to complete the rest of it.
“He’ll always be in my heart,” she said, gazing at the fire. “I’ll do in his memory, Shea. I’ll find out if my real parents are still alive. If they are, I’ll find them. And somehow I’ll bring my people back. The moon elves will return.”
The End
Thank you for reading!