CHAPTER FOUR
Deckard struggled to believe that they were truly invisible. Even though Auden assured them the shroud was in place, he could still see each troop member. Granted, the edges of their forms were less solid than normal, like they wore a hazy fog as a cloak.
Still, Deckard insisted that Ethenn ascend first with Auden, his bow at the ready.
They climbed the staircase together, leaving the Keep’s antechamber. With their weapons drawn, the narrow steps forced them to rise one by one. Auden told them to stay close, as his grasp on Night magic was tenuous even with the Relic.
Deckard made sure to walk in front of Evylin in the procession.
Even with the warm golden glow of the Day sword in her hand, he wanted to face whatever awaited them first. Perhaps it made him a fool.
Evylin was more than capable of defending herself.
He’d seen how the Relics enhanced her skills in the Keep.
He did not doubt that she could also hold her own up above.
But he would never forgive himself if she faced danger from which he could have protected her.
The moment they stepped out into the soft morning light, Deckard felt an immediate wave of exhaustion roll through him.
He’d experienced this sensation before when they’d left the Day and Water Keeps.
Each time, he’d felt fine while within the magical walls.
But the energy he’d expended finally caught up to him the second they stepped free of the Keeps’ influence.
Exiting the narrow slit in the cliff face, the troop came to an immediate halt. Twelve Mages whirled toward them, muttering to one another under their breaths, hands raised. They’d felt it, Deckard realized, the Night Relic leaving the Keep. And they were prepared to attack whatever appeared.
Even in his exhaustion, Deckard held his sword ready. Their troop stood huddled together on the slick rock that abutted the sea. Auden lifted a forestalling hand to the soldiers. Immediately, Deckard understood why.
The Night Mages stood frozen, eyes wide and hands still raised, but with obvious uncertainty on their faces. “Where are they?” one of them grumbled.
“Hold steady,” another commanded. “They’ll emerge any moment.”
Suddenly, Ilain flicked her wrist. A large crash sounded off to their left, and all the Mages turned, alert.
Ilain grabbed Evylin’s arm without warning and jerked her to the right in front of Deckard.
The troop needed no more direction. They sprinted after the two women, barreling past the enemy Mages.
Auden worked to stay in the middle of the group to keep his shroud over them all.
Mindful of their footing, they raced across the wet rocks of the coastline.
Wherever they had emerged in Wauld, they were surrounded by moss-covered mountains and beaches of black sand.
The sea foamed against the shore and the jagged rocks.
With their weapons drawn, Deckard worried they would lose their footing and injure themselves in their desperate escape to safety.
But they couldn’t risk stowing them, not when they might need to defend themselves.
Just as he’d feared, the Mages heard their sprint away. They called out to each other, sending blind surges of Night Magic their way. The troop veered, and Auden screwed up his face in rigid concentration.
“I’m struggling to hold it,” he warned.
Instantly, Ilain grabbed her brother’s hand, offering her additional focus and power. Deckard couldn’t tell if it helped, but he refused to slow their pace.
The team curved around the side of the mountain, heading straight toward another group of Mages. Deckard diverted their path, leading them around the group and across the beach, their footprints embedding in the black sand.
The evidence of their passage unhidden, the Mages charged in pursuit of their path. More deep purple shadows streaked across the sand, narrowly missing their targets. Without warning, the water began rushing up the shore with sudden violence, rising to form a massive wall, ready to crash over them.
Water Mages. Deckard remembered that the Order of the Night had absorbed the Order of the Sea when the Shepherd King’s rebellion pushed the Mages of Auld back across the Allmar Mountains into what was now known as Wauld.
“This way,” Ilain yelled, taking an abrupt right up the beach.
They were fast but not quite fast enough.
The wave slammed into the sand, hitting Ethenn and Rafferty in the back.
They were thrown forward, losing their footing.
Evylin instantly adjusted her course, with Deckard and Thom at her side.
By some magic he didn’t comprehend, she turned the Day sword back into a Relic, haphazardly throwing its chain around her neck.
Then she tugged Rafferty off the ground, wet sand clinging to his clothes and face and streaking his hair an ashy black.
Deckard and Thom reached Ethenn at the same time, helping the hunter to stand.
But they’d been too slow while the Calders continued up the beach.
Auden’s shroud was too weak to cover the distance between them.
The haze around their forms began to fade, sharpening their figures, and several Mages cried out excitedly.
The Ephrians bolted after their Mage comrades as their attackers pursued with renewed vigor.
Purple shadows sent black sand spraying as they zigzagged up the coast. A thick line of trees awaited them: massive evergreens, elms, and alders in the deepest shades of emerald.
When they reached it, the dark sand was marbled with the teeming underbrush.
Lush ferns and moss filled the forest, making their sprint difficult.
A thick mist obscured the depths of the trees.
They maintained their course with no assurances that they were truly running from and not toward more Mages. Ilain and Auden’s fire-bright hair flared against the forest’s dark green, the Ephrians’ only beacon of direction. Wherever they were running toward, Deckard prayed it was to safety.
The troop ran until Ilain practically collapsed onto the forest floor.
The rich greens and overcast sky lent themselves to the Wauldeners’ visages.
It gave their pale skin and sharp features an ethereal appearance even as they slumped against the trees, worn out from the Keep and the sprint for their lives.
With one hand on her rib cage, Ilain stared up at the team. “Can we walk now?” she begged, panting around each word.
With his pulse pounding and lungs gasping, Deckard surveyed the forest behind him. “I don’t hear any sign of pursuit,” he offered.
The whole troop sagged in relief. Evylin alone seemed to have some semblance of control over her breathing as they relaxed. Rafferty dropped to the mossy ground as Ethenn and Thom finally put away their weapons.
“We can’t rest long,” Deckard warned, sheathing his sword. “Only enough to catch our breaths.”
Auden agreed. “It should be safe for us to turn south now.”
Hands on his knees, Thom gaped incredulously at the Mage. “You mean we’ve been running in the wrong direction?”
“We’ve been running northeast toward Taulence,” Auden confirmed. “If they believe we’re headed for the nearest town, they’ll search there first. Now that we’ve lost them, we can head for Colmar with less fear of interference.”
“It’ll take three days to get to Colmar, right?” Ethenn asked, his hunter’s training aiding his fast recovery.
“So long as we keep going,” Auden confirmed. He reached up then, removing the golden chain of the Night Relic. The amethyst stone beamed in the dim light as he held it out to Rafferty.
“You sure you don’t need to keep us shrouded longer?” the weasel asked, still on the forest floor.
Auden shook his head. “I had to release the shroud nearly as soon as we entered the trees,” he explained. “I don’t have the energy to maintain one. Not even with the Relic’s help.”
As Rafferty tucked the now-dull necklace into his coat, Ilain readily handed over the Fire Relic.
Deckard surveyed the exchange warily. The return of the Relics was a show of good faith on the Calders’ part.
And while Deckard wanted to trust them, he still held reservations regarding their true agenda.
While Deckard had agreed to work with them and their Alliance to overthrow Wauld and Ephria, he couldn’t say he was entirely convinced of their cause.
He had yet to fully understand what the Alliance hoped to achieve by recreating Allund.
He could not offer them his true allegiance until he knew their true intentions.
However, with Rouland Blount II, Crown Prince of Wauld, also hunting for the Relics, Deckard would place his faith in the Calders over the Waulden heir.
They resumed their journey, veering south under Auden and Ethenn’s guidance. The Mage and the hunter took the lead, forging the path. The rest of the team ambled behind, exhausted.
They’d left Norhels in the morning and arrived in Wauld’s Verlund Reach hours earlier.
The change in time zones played games with Deckard’s head.
They’d spent at least an hour within the Day and Night Keeps only to gain more daylight.
His muscles ached, his stomach was empty, and his energy was depleted.
After hours of traversing the forest, the heavy mist clung to the trees. Rafferty, energy slowly returning, chatted at the back, entertaining Evylin, Ilain, and Thom. Fighting his tiredness and the mindless task of slogging through the untamed terrain, Deckard allowed his thoughts to wander.
Since they’d left Hewitt’s grave, Deckard took every silent moment to worry about Evylin. Her struggle was understandable, her depression pervading, and her self-isolation reflexive. Every day, he did what he could to be helpful to her.