The Evermen Saga 01 - Enchantress (42 page)

She wondered where the High Enchantress was, whether Evora Guinestor was behind her or ahead of her. Part of her hoped Evora wasn’t far away; thinking about Evrin’s reaction when he’d talked about Petrya, she felt a strong sense of foreboding.

The elementalists were always discussed in hushed tones in Altura, as if discussing a dark spirit would bring it out of the shadows. They were considered strange, even sinister. They kept largely to themselves, and rarely travelled except for physical and lore-based contests, which they participated in whole-heartedly. It seemed their whole society was built around competition. They fiercely asserted their independence, both individual and that of their house. If they fought with someone as an ally, it was the way they wanted to fight, on their own terms.

They’d fought with the Emperor against Altura and Halaran in the Rebellion, and High Lord Tessolar still refused to communicate with the Petryan High Lord, Haptut Alwar. Terrible atrocities had been committed in the last war of the houses, especially by the Petryans. It seemed they had no respect for weakness, no sympathy for the sick, the old or the infirm.

The majority of elementalists lived in their great tiered city Tlaxor. It was perhaps the most well-known and least-travelled city in the world. For — as if to defy their chosen deity, the Lord of Fire — the Petryans had built it on an island in the middle of a lake. This lake, Lake Halapusa, was in the caldera of an active volcano.

The water of Lake Halapusa was constantly at near-boiling temperature. It was said that one of the Petryan High Lord’s favourite methods of execution was to throw criminals or dissidents into the lake and watch their skin turn bright red as their bones were boiled from them. If he was particularly angry with someone, he would dangle them from a rope, lowering the rope by a hand’s breadth every day.

First their feet would enter the water. The next day, when the feet were no more than stumps of bone, the rope would be lowered a little more. It was said a man might survive for up to five agonising days in this way.

Ella felt these might just be stories. At any rate she didn’t plan on spending time in Petrya; she just wanted to catch up with Killian and get back to Altura with the Lexicon.

She stopped and caught her breath, looking back the way she had come at the road down below, a ribbon of dusty brown. The barren ground stretched on and on, until some poor farmland could be seen at the limits of vision.

Ella now looked ahead, upward. The rough path twisted and turned as it wound its way up the mountainside. It was steep enough here that she would be forced to follow the path as it doubled back on itself, intentionally curving first one way, then another. It was either that or climb up the nearly vertical face.

She tilted her head back and looked further up. Above her the imposing mountain range frowned down, dark and forbidding. She still could not see how a crossing could be possible; the jagged crags and sheer walls seemed completely impassable.

She scanned the series of peaks to either side, following them with her eyes, looking for an indication of where she might cross. Then she stopped. There was something there, some kind of bird, flying along the range. Then, realising the scale, she squinted harder. At that distance, it must be huge.

She could almost make out the sailed wings as they swept up and down, the feathers brown and white. It coasted in an updraft of wind, soaring majestically. She realised what it must be then — an eldritch, the world’s largest bird. They were so rare that it was said there were fewer than one hundred of them left. Capture for lords’ private collections had taken its toll.

Realising how lucky she was to be seeing it, Ella stopped for a moment to watch it fly, so swift it took barely moments to cross from peak to peak. She knew there was no danger — the large birds were supposed to feed on rabbits and other large birds.

As the eldritch came steadily closer, though, Ella realised something was wrong. Every now and then it twitched as if in pain, the curved sword of its beak snapping at its side. It was now close enough for Ella to see that there was something strange about it, an eerie presence. She realised what it was at the same time that the eldritch saw her. It was glowing silver. Someone had drawn runes on the bird.

It shrieked — a piercing sound, as it tucked its wings tucked to its side and plummeted towards Ella.

She was completely exposed here on the mountain. Looking around frantically, she saw a few rocks but little else. There was a mid-sized boulder further up the mountain. With nowhere else to hide, she sprinted for it.

Another shriek, this time from straight behind her, made Ella cringe. Her back felt like a target. As she ran she braced herself for the tearing and rending of the bird’s beak and claws. Reaching the boulder, she threw herself to the ground.

The scratching sound of the birds claws striking stone sounded immediately after.

She saw it rise up again, looking for her. The runes were clear now, she had never heard of such a thing, to torture an animal in this way. The eldritch’s eyes were red with madness. It cried again and convulsed, scratching with its beak at the symbols on its body.

Ella knew that even a great creature like that must be poisoned eventually by the essence. Whoever did this couldn’t have done it more than a short time ago, which left only one explanation — the bird had been sent to kill her. Or to kill the High Enchantress, Ella realised, which was no consolation.

While the creature was writhing in pain, thrashing even as it flew, Ella cursed when she thought of her powerful enchantress’s green silk dress, neatly folded in her satchel. Layla’s hunting knife was gone, and with no time to enchant herself something useful, Ella realised there she had only one option — to hide.

She began to dig at the stones under the boulder, scratching at them with her bare hands. Her fingernails broke and tore and began to bleed. She heard another piercing cry overhead, but ignored it. The rocks she removed began to form a mound and the space created under the boulder began to get bigger. She found a scoop shaped rock and began to use that instead of her hands, making much greater progress. Placing the larger rocks up onto the mound, Ella tried to worm her way into the space.

It wasn’t big enough.

There was a sudden whistling of wind and then Ella saw the claws strike the rock again, this time only barely missing her head. The bird soared up into the air, then came straight back down again.

Ella wriggled with her shoulders and kicked with her legs. Pulling most of her body into the cavity, she tucked her knees up, trying to get her dangling legs out of the open air.

For a long, still breath there was silence.

Then the eldritch’s baleful glare was eye to eye with Ella. Its beak lashed forward at her head, going for her eyes. Again and again the razor sharp beak snapped, and it screeched, the pain in its voice wretched as it clawed at the makeshift barricade, tearing the mound down in moments. It twisted around, snapping its beak under the boulder, a breath away from tearing open Ella’s stomach.

Ella whimpered, helpless to do anything but await her doom.

Then the eldritch was gone. Ella looked from side to side, and then carefully moved her head away from the scant protection provided by the boulder, ready to duck back down at a moment’s notice.

The majestic creature was up in the air, its feathers torn and bloody. It screamed then, a terrible cry of impossible pain. Twisting and turning in the air, biting and scratching at its own body, it barely managed to stay aloft.

Then its body bent at an impossible angle, its eyes dripping red blood down its beak. There was a loud crack as the great bird’s back broke.

The eldritch fell to the earth, plummeting through the air. It hit the ground with a sound like thunder and lay motionless.

Ella edged out from her rocky cave, dusting herself off. The creature had landed only a few paces from where she stood.

She felt nothing but sorrow for the poor animal and the use it had been put to. She was surprised it had lasted as long as it had. Perhaps it wasn’t the first time an eldritch had been put to this macabre use.

Its once glossy brown and white feathers were clotted with blood; it seemed to quiver slightly. She walked along the length of the bird. The runes still glowed but there was now no purpose to their horrible control over this regal creature. She reached the head, and, avoiding contact with the ruined eyes, she ran her finger along the edge of its beak.

"Ouch!" she exclaimed, pulling back her hand abruptly, surprised at the sharpness of the bird’s beak.

Who would do such a thing? The runes showed a reasonable level of skill, but the essence cost to use this creature was prohibitive, given it was destined for such a short span of usefulness.

That was the cost to the user, but what about the cost to the creature?

Ella took one last long look at the eldritch, picturing it as it once would have been, happy and free. Then, shouldering her satchel, she continued her journey.

~

I
T
was a gruelling climb, dangerously steep, with loose scree threatening to knock her down with every step. Ella knew that if she hurt herself there would be no help here; a sprained ankle meant death up here in the mountains. She simply concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other.

At some point, she stopped and ate, though later she couldn’t remember what she had eaten or what it tasted like. She did remember to ration her water — even so she was down to her last two bottles.

Partway through the afternoon, she’d looked up to see she was heading for a narrow defile between two of the peaks, a thin split in the rock.

Wondhip Pass.

She camped that night with the pass in view. This time she chose a protected spot with a clear view of approach and the defence of a natural cleft in the rock. Fighting her exhaustion she gathered some rocks of various shapes and sizes and prepared herself. Whether by creature or by man, she wouldn’t be taken unawares again.

~

T
HERE
were eight men, dressed in a motley collection of leather and armour. Two of the men carried swords, one gripped a dull spear, and another tossed a rusty dagger from hand to hand. The rest were weapon-less, but their size was enough.

They’d sprung out suddenly from a place where Ella would have sworn there was no one.

Her heart in her throat, Ella continued to walk steadily towards the narrow walled path that was the Wondhip Pass.

She’d put on her green silk dress. Anyone who knew something about lore would know the designs on her dress weren’t there for decoration, but she hoped these men had no idea.

As she drew closer she realised some of the men were badly injured. One of them had his arm in a makeshift sling, the bone poking out at an awkward angle. Another held his arm around his chest, his breath wheezing.

Killian, Ella thought. She wondered if he’d sustained any wounds in return.

For the first time she wished that the silk of the dress wasn’t so sheer, so figure-hugging. It was the last impression she wished to create.

One of the swordsmen, a young man with a hooked nose and thin-face, whistled as she approached. He circled her, looking her up and down as he did. "My, my, my," he said. "Lovely, very lovely indeed. You make a fine change from the usual sort we get up here, princess."

The other swordsman stepped forward. He was much older, and everything about him was big. His hair was long and shaggy, like an animal’s pelt. His head sat squarely on his wide shoulders and his legs were each the size of Ella’s waist. "Enough, Rostram. Let’s see what she’s got first."

"Can’t you see what she’s got?" the young swordsman responded, his eyes still on Ella’s body. "Did you want to ask her, and maybe she’ll tell you?"

The other bandits laughed.

The big man’s expression blackened. "You think we’ll be able to buy food with what you’re talking about? What will that give us to get through the winter?"

"Maybe she’s got both money and pleasure for us, hey Blackall?" the man with the dagger called out.

The big man grunted. "Maybe." He turned to Ella. "Well? Got money?"

Ella probably had enough gilden to buy each man a small piece of cheese, with none for herself.

"No… No I don’t," she tried to keep her voice steady. Killian had come through these men, she could too.

Blackall came closer to her; his breath stank as he spoke for her ears alone. "Listen, girl. These men, if you can give them a decent bit of money I might be able to stop them doing what it is they want to do to you."

Hearing it spoken about so openly made Ella feel sick. Her heart was hammering in her chest, her throat closed up so it was difficult to breathe and even harder to speak. Every instinct told her to run. But her wits were telling her that to run was to die.

She had to confront them.

Rostram spoke from behind her, making her jump. "Whatever she’s got, it’s either in that bag, or in that dress. How about you search the bag, Blackall, while I search the dress?" he chuckled.

The bandits began to crowd in, eager to see her body revealed. Rostram reached in to rip the dress from her body.

Ella whispered the runes. Instantly the dress lit up like lightning.

"Argh!" Rostram screamed in pain. He pulled his hand away. The fingers were blackened like coal. He would be lucky to keep any of them.

"That dress, it’s enchanted!" yelled Blackall, drawing his sword. "Kill her — it’s worth a fortune to every man here!"

Ella lifted the hood of the dress, pulling it around her head. She continued to chant, the words coming in staccato syllables as she spoke one activation after another. The dress grew brighter and brighter until it was as bright as the sun, projecting a fierce heat. Ella was protected from it, even so, she could feel the scorching fire she was radiating. The men cried out in pain as they felt it. Blisters popped on their skin. Two of them ran off, their screams fading into the distance.