Chapter 12 #2
“I like taking watch,” Wodred replies. “You get some rest. I’ll come get you when the moon is high.”
“You always say that but never mean it,” Gunag retorts good-naturedly. “You’ll watch all night if no one stops you.”
“Nevertheless, I will take the watch,” Wodred responds evenly.
“Is it that you like taking the watch or that you like what you are guarding?” Gunag challenges.
“Watch yourself, Gunag,” Wodred warns. “Even though you are Axe to the King, I still outrank you.”
“What?” the orc asks, sounding truly baffled. “I only speak the truth. Any fool could see what you want after a week of riding with you. Does she know?”
“I know not what you speak,” Wodred replies firmly, his tone shutting down further conversation.
Gunag doesn’t take the hint, however. “Come now, you forget, I was there eight years ago when we thought she’d been killed. I saw how you reacted. Does she know that you killed your best friend for her?”
My mind stalls. They are speaking of me, I’m certain. But what does that mean?
“Enough, Gunag,” grinds out Wodred, before repeating, “enough. I don’t know what you think you know, but whatever it is, do not go spreading tales to anyone. Especially not to Lady Melelea. She has enough on her mind without gossip.”
“It’s not gossip if it is true,” Gunag argues. “Why do you not make your move? She could be your female if you would just be bold!”
“Like Dame Zera is your female because you’ve been so bold?” Wodred asks wryly.
There’s a pause, and then Gunag responds, his voice resentful, “That was a low blow, General.”
“Do not speak on my personal life if you do not want me to speak on yours,” Wodred responds simply. “Do not run an attack when your flank is weak. Now, leave me to the watch. Go get some sleep.”
Carefully, I close the window, not waiting to hear Gunag’s reply, if there is any, and creep back to the bed.
My head is buzzing with what I just heard.
What did Gunag mean that Wodred killed his best friend for me?
I try to think back to who Wodred’s best friend was and pull up the face of a humanborn orc.
Salthu, I think his name was? It’s true that I have not seen that orc since I got back to Orik, but that is not strange.
Orcs die in battles all the time. But what does it mean that Wodred killed him?
And for me? I had just started to get used to the idea of Wodred possibly wanting me and that it may be possible for me to want him back, but this information is strange and alarming.
My mind is troubled as I close my eyes, my thoughts spinning into a snarled mess before uneasy sleep finally claims me.
???
BLOOD AND FIRE. A village beneath me, death following me. I point to the sleeping hamlet and feel as leathery wings brush past me to do my bidding. There is magic beneath me, I can feel it.
Jerking awake, I know within a split second that we are all in danger. Throwing back the covers, I burst out of the room, still just in my shift, moving to warn the sleeping innocents all around me, but I am too late. An alarm bell clangs out from a watchtower in the distance.
“Incoming!” I hear the cry, just before explosions rock the village, and I can see through the windows in the hallway, balls of fire are raining down, igniting houses all around us.
Doors in the hallway open, Sawa’s family spilling out of the rooms.
“Mama?” Kiva asks, sounding sleepy and frightened. “What’s going on?”
“There’s no time,” Kirigard says, sounding more serious than I have ever heard him. “We must get out of the house and head to the forest. Come, children!”
“Mama?” asks Lyra, sounding panicked.
“Listen to your father,” Sawa says. “Take nothing. We must move now!”
Sawa whirls toward me and says, “Lady Melelea, come with us. We will keep you safe.”
“There are demons and imps outside,” I tell her. “Their master, Grazrath, is sending them to look for magic users. You and your husband are in danger more than most, since you have healing magic in your veins.”
Sawa’s eyes widen. “The children do too!” she exclaims. “Little Kiva has a strong magical gift. What can we do?”
But there’s no time to make plans. A second wave of fire summoned by the imps comes raining down, this time hitting the house we are in.
“Get down!” cries out Kirigard. Flaming wooden beams crash down between us as we all dive out of the way.
But I am not quick enough. My foot gets caught and pinned under the heavy beam as I try to leap to safety.
I tug, but only pain greets me as I pull on my leg.
I’m not burned yet, but it’s only a matter of time as the flames travel along the wood.
“My lady!” calls Sawa from the other side of the beam. It appears that her family is all on the other side of the fire, while I am trapped on my side by myself.
“Go!” I yell at them. “Keep low and stay out of sight! The imps are looking for you!”
“But, my lady—”
“Go!” I yell again. “Get to safety, all of you!”
I can see through the flames that Sawa hesitates for a moment, obviously torn about leaving me, but her husband grabs her hand and ushers the orclings down the stairs.
Now I am completely alone and still stuck. I can feel the licks of flame getting closer and closer. I pull again on my leg, but it is as hopeless now as it was the first time I tried. I am well and truly pinned. This very well may be where I die.
Then, suddenly, Wodred is there, like a divine messenger come when all is lost.
“Melelea!” he shouts from the other side of the fiery beam. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m stuck!” I cry out. “I cannot move my leg!”
“Just hold on!” the orc answers. In a moment, he drops his ax and grabs the burning wood with no regard to his own safety, hefting the bulk that is pinning me.
With great effort, I scramble out from under the beam as Wodred lifts it, getting to the side of safety.
When I’m clear, he drops it and picks up his weapon.
“The orclings!” I cry out. “They left before me—”
“They are out of the house,” Wodred responds. “Kirigard and Sawa took them out the back way. We have to move now, though. The next wave is coming.”
“It’s Grazrath,” I tell him. “He’s come for more magic users.”
Wodred nods grimly. “I thought as much. Can you guide me to him? So that I can kill him?”
“I can try,” I say. “He’s close enough that the connection is back, even though he’s trying to block it.”
“Then, come quickly,” Wodred says. “Stay low so that you don’t breathe in the smoke. I’ll protect you, and you can guide me.”
I nod, ducking down as he bids me, and we make our way out of the house on fire.
As we emerge from the burning wreckage behind us, I can see the imps in the sky, swooping down and attacking the villagers.
Screams rend the air, but many of the orcs here have served in the Horde, and they fight the nightmarish creatures as they dive down.
It is madness and carnage all around us.
There is no time to properly scry or track Grazrath with any finesse, so instead, I just lower all my inner barriers and open my metaphysical eye, straining to keep the connection open between us.
I can suddenly see through eyes that are not my own, looking down at the village.
I feel the satisfaction of the demon at the ruin he has wrought, the death and pain of the innocent villagers all around him.
I can also feel his hunger for magic, the watchful way he scans over the fleeing villagers to see if any have a magical spark.
Focusing, I take in the buildings surrounding him, then yank back into my own mind.
“He’s on the southern watchtower roof!” I tell Wodred.
“This way!” Wodred says. I follow the orc general as we head to the southern side of the village, darting under roofs and trying to avoid the notice of the imps that fill the sky around us.
When we get to the south gate, I look up to see Grazrath crouched on the watchtower roof.
His black eyes gleam in the firelight, the archdemon unmistakable in his terrible silhouette.
“He’s up there,” I whisper to Wodred, who nods and takes a javelin off his back from his large quiver. He gets silently into position, taking aim. As he pulls back to throw, a familiar voice suddenly screams in the night.
“Kiva!” screams Sawa, despair and agony in her voice. “KIVA!”
I whirl around to see Sawa trying to run down the center of the village street, only to be pulled back by Kirigard.
An imp flies away toward the watchtower, Kiva’s shoulders in its cruel grip.
The orcling screams and struggles, but she isn’t strong enough to break free from the abomination carrying her.
If the imp reaches Grazrath before Wodred can kill him, Kiva will die.
The thought races across my mind and, before I can think too hard, I dart out into the street.
“Melelea, no!” Wodred calls, but it is too late.
Reaching into the depths of my magic, I pull out the illusion threads, weaving them together almost more through instinct than anything else, and throw them out at the imp.
A huge dragon’s head made of light and fire shoots out toward the creature, who rears back in shock and fear, dropping Kiva to the ground.
“You fool!” cries out Grazrath behind me. “It is a mere illusion!”
But I am already moving, sprinting into the night to scoop up the small child and throw up another illusion that makes the two of us invisible, camouflaged into the ground beneath us.
Grazrath howls in outrage as we disappear, his easy prey escaping him.
Wodred chooses this moment to let loose his javelin.
It shoots through the air, his aim true and heading toward the mortal flesh at the archdemon’s center.
But at the last second, Grazrath whirls and catches the javelin.
The tip of the weapon pierces the demon’s chest, but not deep enough to be a mortal injury.
Grazrath snarls, dropping the javelin and launching up into the air. A shrill whistle pierces into the night, and the attacking imps suddenly disappear into the darkness, abandoning their attack. A portal opens behind Grazrath, who sneers, “You will pay for this insolence.”
Then he’s gone, and the portal snaps shut behind him. Just as quickly as the attack began, it is done, though the village burns all around us.
“Lady Melelea!” calls out Wodred. “Melelea!”
“Kiva!” screams her mother. “Where are you?”
I let the illusion over us drop and let go of the little orcling, who promptly bursts into tears and runs for her mother. Sawa rushes forward and scoops up her child, her own tears streaming freely.
“Bless you, Lady Melelea,” she sobs, clutching Kiva. “Bless you this night for saving my daughter.”
“I did what anyone would do,” I say, even as I shake from exhaustion. Using so much magic and mind-sharing with a demon has taken its toll.
Wodred comes up to me, grabbing me by the shoulders and looking at me. “You are well?” he asks, almost sounding frantic. “The imp did not touch you?”
“I am well,” I assure him. “I couldn’t let him get Kiva.”
“My family is indebted to you,” Wodred says, before pulling the cloak off of his back and wrapping it around my shoulders.
It is only then that I remember that I am merely in my shift and blush.
Pulling the cloak tighter around me, I get Wodred’s comforting musky scent in my nose.
Like cedar, pine, and something else wholly Wodred’s.
“We need to put out these flames before the entire village is burned down,” Wodred says, turning away from me.
The orc general starts barking out orders and around us his clan moves to obey him.
Wodred moves away from me, stalking toward the bottom of the watchtower.
He bends down and picks up the javelin he threw at Grazrath, before coming back to me and placing the weapon in my hand.
“It has his blood on it,” the orc tells me. “Will that be enough that you can track him?”
I look down and, sure enough, there is black sticky blood on the tip of the javelin head. The blood is noxious and almost seems to radiate evil energy to my eyes.
“Yes,” I answer. “With this, Grazrath will not be able to hide from me any longer.”
“Good,” Wodred replies grimly. “Because tomorrow morning we hunt the demon.”