Keeper of the Eye (The Eye of the Sword Book 1) (17 page)

C
HAPTER
16

Desperate Measures

Wispy clouds, illuminated bright white by the full moon, floated calmly across the sky. The twinkling stars added their own shimmer to the serene view. A peaceful sight to any traveler, but its beauty was lost on the four shadows trotting across the hilly terrain. To them, the night was deadly. They welcomed the bright moonlight as it sped their travel and gave them a small glimmer of hope. A false hope.

A nightmarish howl pierced the cool air and it was answered by howls from many directions. Their calls joined in a symphony composed in hell.

Close to panic, Max’s blue roan fought him as he turned her toward a rocky outcrop.

“The horses won’t stay around,” Garen said.

“We can’t afford to lose our supplies,” Michael added as they reached the outcrop.

“Unsaddle them,” Max instructed, “quickly and leave the saddles where they land. We don’t have time to haul supplies up. Won’t be here long anyway. Hurry!”

Straps were unhitched, buckles unbuckled and the horses bolted with reins dangling before the saddles hit the ground. Garen led the group up the winding path. Tall granite walls on each side narrowed as they reached the top.

There was a cave near the summit. Perhaps it was better described as a lean-to; the result of one large slab leaning on another. Small, yet decent shelter from the weather, but no stronghold by any stretch of the imagination. Above the cave, the outcrop’s summit was a dome of granite with a sheer drop-off on the backside that ensured no attacks from behind. They were vulnerable from the east and west, so Garen positioned himself on the left, ready to pick off anything that tried to sneak up on them from the eastern path.

Falon took a position on a slab jutting out from the outcrop where she could observe the lower portion of the western pathway. She looked like she could chew nails, brooding as she watched the path. Her knives would do no good in this fight. Michael chastised himself for not acquiring a bow for her in Anista when he bought his.

The night fell silent again, but no one was fooled. The nightstalkers were out there calculating their attack. They might choose to wait, hoping to ambush the unwary traveler who made the fatal mistake of thinking they were gone, but daylight would be approaching so they would not wait long.

Michael shifted nervously as he peered into the night. The silence was unnerving, but his sense of helplessness weighed heaviest on him. His magic eluded him, and the Sword was no better than a simple blade without it. He jumped when Max touched him on the shoulder.

“When you were attacked in your house, what were you thinking?”

Michael looked at him, puzzled. Odd time for such a question. “I don’t know,” he shrugged, “it’s all a blur in my mind now.”

“Try to think of the moment the nightstalker was set on fire.”

“Why?” he replied curtly, “I’d prefer to forget it.”

Max gave him a stern look. “This is important, Michael. Try to remember what you felt when it burst into flames.”

Michael looked away into the night, trying to envision that moment. “I remember those eyes staring right into me, freezing me. I could see it was going to attack, but I was stuck, unable to prevent it. Then it started to jump, and all I could think was if he reached me I was dead.”

“What about the one that jumped on you? What did you feel when it flew off you and crashed into the fireplace?

“Fear mainly, just that I wanted it off me. Why, Max? What does it matter what I felt when you set the beast on fire or threw the other one off me?”

Max’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. “I didn’t kill either beast, Michael.” Max’s gaze held him like a vise. “You did.”

Michael shook his head. “I can’t even create a flame, Max. How could I have done that?”

“Your need for survival drove you when your conscious mind failed.”

Another horrible howl cut through the silence of the night. Max had no more time to prepare Michael for what he must somehow find within himself.

“The best teacher in the use of your gift is to remember how you did it before; an emotion, a sensation, some type of mental correlation that will allow you to call on your power again.”

“Max, I have no idea what I did.” Fear welled up in Michael; fear their survival weighed on his shoulders, and he had nothing to defend them with.

“You better dig deep, son,” Max leaned close to Michael, “because whatever you did then, you’re going to need to do now.”

Another howl sliced through the night and was replied by others from many directions. Michael flinched at the horrifying sound.

“We have to keep them at bay till sunrise. Dig deep, Michael. Dig deep and remember.”

***

The nightstalkers moved toward the outcrop like black wraiths. The moonlight swallowed by their black coats, their glowing red eyes emitting their own hellish light. They had surveyed the rocky outcrop from all sides. Their prey was indeed trapped, but attacking them could be costly. The leader considered waiting them out, to see if they would come down, but he knew they would make no such mistake. Nothing would be easy in taking this prey. That suited him fine; it had been a long time since he had had a challenge. He raised his head to the sky, wishing he could obliterate the cursed moon, and howled. They darted up the rocky hill twenty strong.

If it won’t be easy
, he thought,
then it will be quick
.

***

Garen saw them coming. He loosed an arrow hitting one of them in the body as they approached. He knew it was a shot that would have dropped a normal animal, but this beast barely flinched. He unleashed arrows as fast as possible. If he could not stop them, he could at least hurt them. Michael added his own arrows to the foray with little effect. Tossing his bow and arrows to Falon, he drew the Sword hoping by some miracle it would awaken.

The nightstalkers charging up the west path were forced into a single file as it narrowed. Max was ready for them. He sent a wave of Air through the walls, shearing off a layer of granite. The massive chunks of stone crashed down on the charging beasts, crushing the first two. The others leaped over the rubble almost without pause.

Light flooded the summit as Max created two pillars of fire swirling like cyclones, blocking the west path. He sent one pillar down the path engulfing two more nightstalkers and causing the others to retreat.

Michael thought they had won then his instincts took hold, warnings firing off in his head. He brought the Sword up just in time to meet a hellhound midair, thrusting the blade deep into the beast. It had snuck up from the east path. Both he and Garen had been so amazed by the power Max displayed they had missed its approach. Two more nightstalkers emerged from the night. Michael pulled the Sword free and took a defensive position letting the beasts come to him. The first took two arrows from Garen before it reached him. When Michael ran the Sword through the beast, he realized his dilemma. The second hellhound was already leaping into the air, and he had no time to recover the Sword and defend himself.

The scene became surreal; time slowed as each event registered separately in his mind. He saw an arrow impale the beast, blue streaked fletching protruding out its neck, but it was no use. The beast would not be denied its prey. He had a flashback of the beast that had jumped on him in his cabin. A sensation glimmered in his mind, elusive but present. A link to a puzzle he desperately wanted to solve. His eyes saw the beast at the height of its jump; his mind saw colors and textures mixing with a strange yet familiar cool sensation deep within him. It reminded him of picking just the right wood for strength and appearance. Just as he was about to make the connection between what he felt and what it was, a fireball flashed past him, striking the nightstalker in the chest and hurling it away from him, consuming it in flame.

Michael blinked the afterimage away as a wave of shock flooded in on him. His mind trying to process the sensations of his vision as it registered what had just happened. Max’s hand, still aglow from releasing the bluish fireball, illuminated the relief in his face.

“Nasty devils! They have no concern for death. They’ll sacrifice the pack if necessary. Watch yourself, Michael,” Max said, creating another pillar of fire just behind the young Keeper, blocking the eastern pathway.

“Nice trick,” Michael said, “Think you could have done that before they came up?”

“I could have,” Max said, breathing heavily, “but then they would still have all their numbers.” Max slid to the ground, closing his eyes for a moment. “The pillars will dissipate shortly, and I don’t have the strength to make them all night. It was a gamble, but our best chance of killing some of them right away. They will wait for the pillars to die down, so we have time to rest.”

“Can’t we just barricade the pathways?”

“I’m not certain that would do any good. It would take most of my power to crumble the walls into barricades. If they find another way in I’ll be too exhausted to fight. Have you remembered how you—”

“No!” Michael snapped, frustrated far more with himself than Max.

“We only have to hold them off till sunrise,” Falon said. “We’re off to a good start.”

Michael noticed she held his bow and blue streaked fletching protruding behind her shoulder. His mouth fell open in surprise as it registered who shot the last arrow into the nightstalker. She only smiled in reply.

The shadows began to grow long with the night as the pillars died out. The hour of rest they provided was welcomed, but not enough for Max to fully recover.

The next attack was less dramatic with only five nightstalkers involved. They charged in then ducked away at the last minute, testing the company’s strength, trying to wear them down. Each attack was calculated to gain insight on their prey’s abilities and weaknesses. Only two more nightstalkers fell during the next three attacks, but Max’s stamina was waning. The tension grew as dawn approached.

Max broke the silence, “They’ve learned all they need to know. They’ll charge in with all their numbers this time.”

Only one member wielded any power
, Michael thought sarcastically. Their tactics had worked. He was irrelevant, and Max was exhausted.

The attack came faster than Max anticipated. Falon and Garen spotted four of them coming up the east path. They hit the nightstalkers repeatedly with arrows as they charged up the path snaking behind the summit, but the beasts did not slow. The leader went down when they both hit it in the head at the same time.

“Nice shot,” Garen said, tossing his bow aside, drawing his sword.

“Thanks,” she replied, nocking her last arrow.

The other three leaped over their fallen brother without missing a step. Garen met the first hellhound, driving his sword into its chest, but the sheer mass of the beast knocked him back, and they went rolling toward the drop-off.

Falon released her arrow, hitting a beast in the eye. It flinched and stopped. Slowly it turned its head back on her, one red eye glaring at her.

Four more bounded up the western path, unencumbered by the rubble from past attacks. Max caught the leader with a fireball then hit one on top of Garen sending it over the drop off in blue flames. He raised his hand to burn the one threatening Falon when something hit him from behind. The force knocked him to the ground, exhaustion kept him there. He was drained. He had nothing left. He had failed the Keeper again.

***

The battle was a blur in Michael’s eyes. He saw Max take out two more beasts, saving Garen, before being knocked down. A third appeared on the summit, pushing Garen toward the edge. The fear within him threatened to take over. He was on the edge of panic. Then Falon screamed.

Time slowed as he moved to save Falon. The scene took on the form of another reality as the emotions and sensations of the attack in his cabin superimposed on this one. He could see both the beast in his doorway about to pounce and the one about to do the same to Falon. In his mind’s eye, he could see the beast in the past erupt in blue flame and deep inside him something snapped. Need drove him beyond his wall of denial. In that moment, he had an epiphany. His inability to draw on his power had nothing to do with inexperience, but with his unwillingness to let go of his past life. Subconsciously he refused to give up what he had been for what he was born to be. The only thing able to drive him beyond that barrier was the need to save those he cared for. Now he saw the power within himself, how it coalesced beneath the surface waiting to be used, waiting to be released.

The summit erupted in crimson light. The surge of power caused the nightstalkers to pause. It was the last thing they felt. Michael moved with blinding speed, his reactions to each beast happening at the same time. He drove the Sword into the beast standing over Max while the two charging from the west path burst into flames. Fire shot from his open hand knocking the beast attacking Falon over the edge of the summit in a fiery heap. The granite beneath the one that had Garen cornered came alive and gripped its legs in immovable rock. Garen split its head in one smooth motion.

Exhausted, his adrenaline drained, Michael helped Max up to a sitting position as Falon slid down from the summit to sit next to him. They looked at each other, her eyes filled with surprise and awe. A smile swept across her face then she laughed as she realized how powerful Michael was.

Michael started to ask her what was so funny when a howl rang out above them. Michael jumped up to see the nightstalker that fell to Garen and Falon’s arrows finishing its chilling howl. It locked its eyes on Michael with murderous hate then lunged.

“Bloody animal. Die!” Garen screamed as he severed the beast’s head from its body midair. “Bloody things and their howling. Can’t stop till they’re dead can they?”

“It was a signal,” Max said.