Darkness Rising: Disciples of the Horned One Volume One (Soul Force Saga Book 1) (8 page)

D
amien lay on his old
, lumpy bed, legs crossed, staring at the ceiling. Dinner had been an interesting sort of awkward. He and Dad had no idea how to react to each other. Jen had tried to fill the silence, but only sounded pained. They ended up eating without conversation and after he helped Jen clean up Damien retreated to his room. It would be a long visit if he and Dad couldn’t figure out some way to get comfortable with each other.

He closed his eyes and found himself floating beside a beautiful, naked Lizzy. He sighed at the sight of her. They stared at each other for a moment then came together. The feathers of her wings tickled the back of his neck and her tears soaked his shirt. He held her, her body soft and familiar in his arms. Damien had dreamed of this reunion for three years.

When they parted she wiped her eyes. “I wasn’t sure you’d ever come back.”

“You didn’t think I’d forget about you, did you?”

She sniffed. “Not really, but we were so far apart. You might have found another girl.”

Damien grinned. “As though a girl exists that could compare with you.”

She smiled. That appeared to have been the right thing to say.

“In fact I used you as the model for my shaping final. The masters seemed impressed with the little statue I made of you.” He concentrated and a replica of his final project appeared in the air between them.

She flew around the statue, looking it over. “Not too bad.”

She lashed her wings and flew away. Damien let the statue vanish and chased after her. They played the old game, racing through the endless sky. When he caught her this time, she made his clothes vanish and wrapped them both in her wings.

Later they drifted together, her wings around them like a blanket. Damien had always known this day would arrive, but now that it had, it felt more perfect than he’d dared hope. Lizzy rested her head on his chest and he put an arm around her. Not for the first time Damien wished he could stay with her like this forever. It would certainly be preferable to having to try to talk to his father again.

“He regrets having been so hard on you.” Lizzy’s glowing red eyes looked up at him. She must have read his thoughts. “He just doesn’t know how to fix it. Emotional matters have never been Fredric’s strong suit.”

Damien laughed, short, bitter and humorless. “No kidding. After the Solstice I’ll head back to The Tower and he’ll be free of me again.”

“Do you have to leave so soon?”

He stroked her hair. “I’ve got to start my fieldwork. I wish I could take you with me.”

She sighed and nuzzled his neck. “I can’t project myself more than fifty feet, and I know of no sorcery that would allow us to connect over such a distance.”

“I can try to visit more often. Maybe me and Dad can figure out some way to talk to each other that doesn’t resemble pulling teeth.”

“I think he would like that. I certainly would.”

Lizzy’s head lifted off his chest and listened to something beyond his perception.

“What is it?”

“Someone came to the door and now your sister’s getting dressed.”

“Trouble?”

“It’s after midnight, so I assume so.”

Reading his mind again Lizzy returned him to his body. Damien rolled out of bed and went to the door in time to see Jen walk out of her room, her sword strapped to her back. Just inside the door stood a tall, broad-shouldered boy with a maul over his shoulder. “What’s up?”

She turned back. “Goblins. They burned a farm eight miles north. I’m taking my squad to investigate. Go back to bed.”

“Be careful.”

She threw a wave over his shoulder and walked out with the stranger. Damien went back to bed and sighed. Goblins, so close to The Citadel. That was certainly strange. Usually they kept to the wild lands. The green-skinned monsters were stupid enough, but he thought they had more sense than to hunt near a cluster of warlords. He fell asleep still musing on what had prompted the little brutes to do something so foolish.

J
en cinched
the buckles on her back sheath tight as she walked down the hall beside Edward Mark, one of her squad members. They strode through the hall outside the living quarters, the only sound this late at night their boots on the stone floor. Glow globes set every twenty feet lit their path. Edward had drawn the short straw and received the task of fetching her when word of another goblin raid arrived at The Citadel. A little after midnight a night patrol had seen flames and when they went to investigate, discovered the attack. The little bastards had burned a farm an hour’s ride away. They did it to mock her, she knew it.

The raids had started two weeks ago. Local patrols had failed to deal with them; three soldiers were killed in the first attempt to handle the green-skinned monsters. After that the patrol leader put in a request to have warlords handle the matter. Hunting down a few goblin raiders should have been a simple matter, so Dad assigned Jen and her squad to the mission, her first as a commander. Three burned farms later Jen had begun to doubt their ability to even find the miserable wretches.

She clenched her jaw and sent soul force through her brain to burn the last of the sleep from her mind. She needed her full focus tonight. No way would her prey escape this time. Outside the fortress’s main doors the rest of her squad waited with saddled horses. Dim light from a near-f moon lit the yard. Jen sent soul force to her eyes to enhance her vision and the scene before her became clear. Three warlords sat astride their horses, weapons and other gear secured, eager and ready for a fight. Jen leapt onto the back of her black gelding. None of them were more eager than her.

“Let’s go!”

They thundered through the main gate and turned up the dirt road, following the directions the patrolman provided. Between the moonlight and smooth road they made good time for the first part of the trip. Sparks leaping into the air showed the location of the burning farmhouse. Jen reined in her mount and turned off the main road and onto a rutted wagon path that led down to the farm.

As they got closer the smoldering remains of the house came into view along with three patrolmen who were placing a shroud over an uncovered body. Jen frowned. More bodies on her watch. Each one pained her, as much because of the failure they represented as the loss of life. Jen hated failing, probably because she’d done so little of it. That’s what Damien would say if he could hear her thoughts.

She didn’t yet know what to make of her little brother. He’d changed in the three years he spent at Sorcery. His trick with the plate showed he’d learned to use his soul force. She smiled at that. He’d struggled so long to get his power to work. That he’d finally found a way forward pleased her.

The group stopped short of the patrolmen and dismounted. Jen caught Talon’s eye and nodded toward the farmhouse. The lanky warlord nodded and rushed over, soul-force-enhanced eyes scanning for tracks. Talon had a knack for hunting, having grown up the son of a woodsman at the edge of the Great Green. If anyone could figure out where the goblins went it was him. The patrolmen left their grisly task and walked over to the warlords.

“Report,” Jen said.

Two of the patrolmen looked at the third man, an older fellow with a salt-and-pepper beard and tired eyes. He cleared his throat. “We were riding our usual patrol an hour or so before midnight when we saw the glow from the fire. When we arrived the house was fully engulfed and we saw no goblins. This is the second farm attack I’ve seen so I figured it had to be the same bunch as before. I sent Mica to The Citadel and the rest of us searched for survivors.” He nodded toward the bodies. “Didn’t find any.”

Jen patted him on the shoulder. “Thank you. We’ll take it from here.”

“Get them bastards, ma’am. Don’t know how many more farmers I can tell to lock their doors at night and they’ll be fine before I throw up.”

Jen knew just how he felt. Every time they arrived too late to save a family then failed to track down the creatures responsible she felt sick and angry, mostly angry. “We’ll get them. They can’t hide forever. Head back to town and get some rest.”

“If it’s all the same, I think we’ll finish our patrol. Doubt I’ll get any sleep tonight anyway.”

Jen nodded. “Whatever you think best. Thanks again.”

Talon stood by the corner of the burning farmhouse. When she finished with the patrolmen he waved her over. When she arrived he pointed at the dirt. Short, wide prints covered the ground. She’d visited enough goblin victims to recognize their tracks. “Talk to me.”

He pointed northeast. “They came from that way, across the farmer’s fields, and smashed down the back door. They dragged two people out here and the third ran toward the outhouse. Looks like the goblins ran that one down about halfway across the yard. They didn't haul away any loot. They came, killed, burned, and left. I can’t see much point to it.”

“Since when do goblins need to make sense?” The others had gathered around and they chuckled at her comment. Talon had a point though. These goblins acted even stranger than usual for their insane kind. Not that it mattered to her why they did it, all she cared about was finding them and putting an end to it. “Which way?”

“Same way they arrived, back across the fields. They didn’t make any effort to hide their tracks. It’s like they don’t care if we follow them. It’s kind of insulting.”

They left their horses tied to an old elm a safe distance from the burning ruin. In the dark, moving across rough ground, they’d be better off on foot. Talon led the way, the others a few steps behind. They left the yard and entered a field with what Jen guessed was wheat; most of the farms around here grew wheat. She shook her head. What a stupid thing to think about.

Focusing on the situation at hand, she used her soul force to sharpen her hearing and smell, either one of which would be more likely than her sight to warn her of an approaching enemy in the dark. Talon led them on, never hesitating, along the goblin trail. From her position behind him she saw the path the goblins had left as clear as the wagon ruts that led to the farmhouse. Talon was right, they didn’t seem to care if anyone followed them. If she was following an enemy that wasn’t obviously insane she’d fear an ambush. In this case she’d welcome it, at least they could come to blows with the goblins instead of chasing them all over the countryside.

They arrived at the edge of a forest. It was of fair size and consisted mainly of evergreens. No one had bothered to name it since, despite its size, it was tiny compared to the Great Green. Talon paused a moment at the edge of the forest and crouched down for a closer look at the tracks. A couple minutes later they were on their way again, angling more east than north. For an hour they marched through thick, young evergreens. Finally they stopped at a thicket of brambles and blackberry bushes. Some of the vines had inch-long thorns.

“What’s the problem?” Jen asked.

“The tracks lead in there.” He pointed to some broken vines where the goblins had pushed them aside. “Gonna be a bitch forcing our way through. You want to stay on their trail or circle around and try to cut it on the opposite side?”

“Keep on them.” There was no way she’d let the little bastards have a chance of sneaking past them now. “Our iron skin will protect us from the thorns.”

Talon nodded and pushed his way through the brush. Jen followed a step behind. She felt the sharpness of the thorns, but when she yanked them aside they broke off on her impenetrable skin. Her very penetrable clothes, unfortunately, grew ever more shredded with each step. Jen grimaced and kept going. She had plenty of clothes back home. Fifteen minutes of hard slogging later Talon stopped and stared at the ground.

“What’s wrong?” Jen stood beside him and looked where he was looking.

“The trail ends here.”

She studied the area, but saw nothing except brambles and thorns. Where the hell could the goblins have gone that their trail just vanished? It didn’t seem possible. “Explain.”

He shook his head. “The trail ends. One minute it was there, now it’s not. I can’t explain it.”

Rhys yawned. They’d been at it for hours. Jen hated to quit, but with no trail to follow she couldn’t think what to do next. She snarled at the heavens. How did they do it? Every time she thought she was close the trail vanished.

“Let’s go back, get some food and new clothes, and head out again,” she said. Maybe her brother the sorcerer would know something. Heaven knew she needed the help.

W
hen Damien walked
out of his room he found Dad and Lizzy already gone and Jen not back yet. He sighed. So much for a family breakfast. He found bread and jam along with milk from the icebox and fixed himself a snack. He’d finished half of it when Jen pushed the door open and trudged through, her clothes torn and her sword dragging behind her.

“Hard fight?”

She shook her head and tossed the sword on the couch. “We tracked them through the forest, brambles, and thickets for hours then lost them. I don’t know how they do it! It’s like magic.”

Damien fixed her a slice of bread and jam then poured a second glass of milk. He didn’t have enough hands to carry everything over to the couch so he conjured an extra pair. Glowing, golden hands zipped Jen’s breakfast over to her. She flinched when the disembodied hands appeared before her, then took the food. Damien joined her and they ate together on the couch.

“Dad would have a fit if he saw us eating on the couch,” Jen said around a mouthful of bread.

Damien finished his breakfast. He was in too good a mood after last night to care what his father thought about him eating on the couch. “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know.” She sipped her milk. “We’ve tried everything, but we always lose them after a few miles. Can you take a look? You don’t have to fight, just help us find them.”

“If they’re using sorcery there might be residual energy I can track. I’m not sure what the masters would say, but since this isn’t a proper mission there shouldn’t be any problem with me helping you out. When do you want to go?”

“Right now.” She kissed his cheek, leaving a spot of sticky jam. “Let me wash up and get some new clothes. My team’s getting breakfast and we were planning on heading back out anyway.”

“Okay. I’ll meet you in the hall.”

Damien left Jen to get cleaned up. He locked the door behind him so no one would walk in on her and headed down the hall toward the entry. He didn’t bother with his sword. In a real fight a steel sword was about his weakest option. In the entry hall a couple dozen students stood around chatting. He saw no one he knew. His class would have graduated last year and received their first assignments so it was no surprise everyone was a stranger.

“Well, well, what are the odds?”

Damien groaned at the familiar voice. He turned and saw Dirk and Donk coming from the general direction of the mess hall. He hadn’t expected those two idiots to be here. They were a year ahead of him and should be out on whatever assignment the military had chosen for them. “Dirk. What’s the matter, no one want you two in their command?”

Donk clenched his fist, but Dirk laid a restraining hand on his shoulder. “On the contrary, we completed our third successful mission and are waiting for our next assignment. Good of you to come home and provide us a little entertainment while we wait.”

Damien grinned. He wasn’t some scared kid looking to run this time. He was a sorcerer, with full access to all his powers. If these clowns thought they could push him around now, they were in for a surprise. “All right, let’s play that game you two liked so well. You remember, the one where I hit you as hard as I can then you hit me as hard as you can. I’ll even let you go first.”

“Brave of you, punching bag.” Dirk balled his fist.

“What’re you two doing?” Jen stood at the top of the stairs. She had changed into an identical outfit, this one free from rips, and carried her sword over her shoulder.

Dirk and Donk stepped back from him. Damien looked up at Jen. “It’s okay, sis, we’re playing a game. No need to worry.”

Damien poured power into his shield. “Don’t worry, boys, she won’t interfere. Right, Jen?”

Jen looked at him. She wasn’t a sorcerer and couldn’t see the power surrounding him, but she must have gotten a sense of his confidence. “You sure?”

“Absolutely.” Damien tapped his chin. “Go ahead, give it your best shot.”

Dirk shrugged. “Your funeral.”

He swung with all his might. Soul force coursed through his body as he put everything he had into it. Dirk’s fist hit Damien’s shield and stopped. He could have punched a mountain and done more damage. The dumbfounded Dirk pulled his fist back and stared at it like it had betrayed him.

Damien turned to Donk. “Your turn.”

Donk tried an uppercut to Damien’s stomach with the same results as his cousin. They looked at each other then back at Damien. It would have been comical if it wasn’t so pathetic.

“My turn.”

Damien shaped a golden gauntlet around his right fist, then covered his arm and shoulder in more golden armor. He pumped a third of his power into the construct. Little sparks and jagged mini-lightning bolts sparked off the armor. Excess power caused the floor and walls to vibrate and dust to fall from the ceiling. It seemed like the whole fortress was shaking. He drew his fist back.

Dirk and Donk ran back the way they’d come as fast as their soul-force-enhanced legs could carry them. The assembled students and Jen all stared at him with wide eyes. Damien reabsorbed the power and the vibrations stopped. He glanced up at his sister. “Ready?”