CHAPTER THIRTY
Asher had made it to the edge of Summer before lunchtime, only stopping once to grab a food parcel from a passing merchant. He had eaten as he walked the last part of the way, what little energy he had of the night previous was spent and he desperately needed sleep to recharge. But the quicker he got to the Guild, the better things would be. It would show Violet he wasn’t avoiding them and that he had nothing to hide.
He followed the overgrown path to the bridge to No Man’s Land. Not many ventured through the Quarts this way. Choosing to cross through the dangerous monster infested land was both stupid and irresponsible if you tried it without a guide. Some did try though. Whether on dumb dares or to prove their fighting skills, they crossed on occasion, but not many returned. At least not intact.
He sighed tiredly as he felt the last remnants of his power drain away. The glamor that always shrouded him dropped quickly, his once black hair now its natural white. His mismatched eyes on show once more, no longer hidden behind the shade of his once friend and mentor. Why he had still kept them that color he had no idea. Perhaps the sage green eyes helped maintain the strained bond he still felt to the male he once adored and worshiped.
Asher pulled his hood up to cover his hair and cast his eyes in shadow in case he happened upon anyone this close to the magic dampener of No Man’s Land. It was better to avoid drawing attention to himself.
The heavy weight of the dampening field was beginning to wear on him. He could feel the oppressive force of it as he approached. Asher always hated the crossing. No Man’s Land may be perilous, but it was a necessary evil to get to the Guild.
Picking up his pace, Asher quickly covered the short distance between him and the bridge mechanism. It took him minutes to raise the bridge and once he had crossed it, he paused only long enough to ensure it had lowered again. He didn’t want non-Guild or untrained people crossing it and wandering into a land where the dead walked, and scarier things dwelled and fed.
Even without his magic, Asher’s training with the Guild helped him maintain a distance from the things that roamed the ringed island.
Asher could feel he was close to burnout.
He could sense that hollow emptiness all but ready to swallow him and knew there was no way he was going to make it safely to the island of the Guild unless he rested. As if to solidify his realization he stumbled forward almost losing his footing.
He needed sleep. It was an urgency to find somewhere to stop for a break where he would be safe and get the rest his body was desperate for. Even a short nap would be enough to get him through to the inner island and home of the Guild.
His skin broke into a cold sweat as his body fought every urge to give in to the darkness waiting to claim him. His hand braced on the trunk of an old withered oak, Asher swept his gaze around all the trees that were within reach. He wouldn’t be able to move too far as he would still need the energy to climb. He groaned softly as he fought to keep his eyes open.
Tilting his head he cast a glance over the height of the tree he stood by it was tall enough and of the thick gnarly branches that reached from its body there appeared to be one thick and strong enough to hold his large frame.
Not giving it more thought than he needed, Asher braced for the cry of his muscles as he started his climb. Sweat trailed the curve of his spine under his cloak and tunic as he made his way past the first few levels of spindly branches. He needed to climb high enough to be out of reach of the deadly creatures that roamed this land as well as the two-legged variety that wished to take his crown of top assassin within the Guild.
Finally, settling on the thick wooden arm that reached out from the trunk, Asher removed a coiled rope from his satchel and moving as swiftly as his limbs would allow, he secured himself to the thick body of the tree, ensuring he would not fall when sleep at last claimed him.
Tugging his hood to allow his face to fall completely into shadow, he pulled his knees to his chest and covered himself completely with his cloak. The murky dark brown blended perfectly with this bark of the old oak. He was camouflaged, and hopefully safe. To all who would pass under him, he would be unseen.
The now setting sun allowed shadows to blanket him and keep him safe as if Faelorn, the creator of all fae and the living things on it, wished to keep him safe.
Asher’s body jerked awake as the sound of the bridge being lowered into the deadly waters filtered through the inky night to him. Someone was coming.
He had no idea how long he had slept, it couldn’t have been long. The last thing he remembered before giving in to the burnout was the first sound of the Dusk Larks whaling. They sounded romantic, but the reality most certainly did not reflect that image. The blood red birds, although the same size as their distant relatives elsewhere in the Quartaine’s, lived only in No Man’s Land. They would never be found on any other land other than cursed island for they fed off the remains of any who had tried and failed to cross the deadly land without a guide.
The annoying fact that the quickest way to travel between Quartaine’s was through the treacherous land meant that guides were needed if you wished to make it to your destination in one piece. But even then there were times that not even the well-traveled of the deadly ring made it safely across. They either met their end at the jaws or claws of one of the creatures who roamed the land, or at the end of the blade of an assassin for wandering too close to the waters that skirted their secret island.
Quietly pushing himself into a more comfortable position that would allow him to track the prey below, Asher checked his hood was tugged forward enough that the rising full moon would not catch his virgin white hair and give away his hiding spot.
A cloaked figure cautiously approached, making their way carefully between the graves of fallen and dead trees.
Asher took in a slow, quiet, deep breath and gathered to him his natural-born ability. He used it to reach out mentally to the approaching figure. He knew this land quelled all stolen and bought magic, took it, and claimed it allowing none to be used. When traveling through he always felt bereft when his own natural abilities dulled to a simmer deep within him. Having awoken minutes before he could feel his magic as strongly as he had the night before. Yet another strange new experience. If anything the brief rest appeared to have been enough to replenish his energy. It had done in an hour or so what usually took a full night”s rest. Asher’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion, his magic should have been hidden from him like it had been all the times before when traveling through this land.
His gift reached out like whipping tendrils, and made their way to the figure below who was closing in on him. He smiled, confused and intrigued as he watched them coil slowly around the hooded figure until one licked up over their open neck area that showed a glimpse of pale skin beneath. It then moved higher until it was winding around the figure”s head, appearing like a crown of mist as he reached out through his connection to get a sense of who approached and their intent.
Female.
His eyes narrowed as he concentrated on trying to pick out any familiar traits. He could not read their mind, only sense their emotions. Each person had an unknown thing that only he could sense. Emotions were likened to colors for Asher. Casting them in a colorful aura of that emotion. He had noticed since traveling that his ability to read others appeared to be stronger. At times he had been able to read them without even trying. Where once he could see a thin outline surrounding them, allowing him to gauge their mood, they now appear to glow like a Fire Flame from the Spring Quartaine. A halo of thick color surrounded them when his magic touched them.
The female below was glowing pure white. So ethereal was the glow that he found himself drawn to it. Her aura calling to him like a siren’s song. He had never seen an aura so pure and radiant. But it didn’t appear to match the wave of emotion that hit him. His magic was digging deep, passing the surface emotion she was washed in and delving deeper into the well she appeared to suppress.
Anger.
She burned with it. Almost feeling like she used it as fuel to power her very movements. He had never in his years borne witness to such a deep chasm of emotion so deeply buried that should its owner ever be forced to face it, it could possibly consume them.
Whoever or whatever was the root of her rage, he found himself pitying them.
Asher was about to call his magic back when she faltered in her step and crouched low as if sensing she was being watched, tracked. Suddenly, his magic recoiled from her. A low almost silent hiss caught his breath at the sensation of a thick mental door being slammed in his face.
She had blocked him, shut him out of her mind.
How had she known?
He watched as she glanced around, her hand moving to flip her cloak over her shoulder to reveal a dagger sheathed at her thigh. His hand mirrored hers landing on his own blade, not because he intended to use it on her, though he would if needed. But because the blade began to vibrate. It had only done this once before, years ago after Eli had finally returned to the Guild. Before Asher could question it more, the blade stilled against his palm.
His gaze latched on the hilt of the weapon strapped at her thigh.
It was a match for the one at his own side.
It’s twin.
His eyes narrowed, watching her as she cast an assessing glance at her surroundings. He could tell she knew she was being watched, and it appeared she was weighing her options.
A movement to their left drew his attention briefly from her as he caught a glimpse of something moving through the thicket of the heavy bush skirting the trail just up ahead.
Whatever she was going to do, she would need to do it quickly.
Turning back to where she had stood his brows rose when he discovered she was gone. Her decision obviously made, she chose to avoid whatever was coming their way and had moved in another direction, going off the trail. Dangerous for some, but perhaps not as dangerous should she have kept to the path.
A moment later one of the animated undead stumbled onto the trail. She had been right to take the chance. They were one of the deadliest of the creatures that called the island home.
Asher sat where he was and did a mental check on his power as he waited for it to stumble past.
His body thrummed, his magic pulsing as if it was racing through his very veins. There was definitely something wrong. Either the burning of his bond mark had upset his magic or...he swallowed thickly as he contemplated something he should not.
Perhaps the bond had been suppressing his magic and its removal was causing it to kick to life. He hadn’t left the safety of the Guild until his sixteenth birthday, after he was given his bond mark. Were the students given the marks not only as a contract, but to also dampen already existing magic? It would explain why his magic had hit him stronger than even before once his bond mark had vanished. Years of it growing stronger as he aged under the barrier of the bond, never learning to control it, made his theory all too deadly.
He shook his head as if that would shake the dangerous thought from his head. Because such an idea would mean that the inner circle knew he held such power, and their bond controlled it. No, he wouldn’t breathe life into that idea. They were his family, and they wouldn’t bind his power like that, they wouldn’t do that. Would they?
Violet was many things, a bitch being one of those, but she always encouraged him to use his gifts both physical and magical. Surely had she known he had such power, she would have pushed him to use it to the advantage of the Guild.
Asher surveyed the forest floor that surrounded the tree he was tied to, ensuring his own safety before freeing himself and dropping to the ground below. The answers he sought were back home, at the Guild. The quicker he got there, the sooner he could learn the truth.
Asher moved quickly, but each step taken sent a tremor through him, his magic rippling and growing as it filled him. Soaking through him to his very inner being. It moved through him until it felt like a tidal wave rising to swallow him. Beads of sweat formed on his brow as he struggled to concentrate. He crouched to crank the lever to raise the bridge to the inner island. His hands moved quickly, turning the handle and raising the bridge as he mentally reached into himself to hold off what felt inevitable.
His magic felt wild, untethered, and it scared him.
Once raised, and upon seeing the beacon, Asher gripped his satchel and moved with haste carefully across the bridge.
His sight had been locked on the glowing beacon opposite him, when something suddenly caught his attention.
A noise behind him.
He didn’t have time to react as a large stump of wood came out of nowhere and slammed into him, knocking him off the safety of the bridge and into the murky waters below.
Asher gasped in shock, taking in a mouthful of the foulness the deadly creatures of the ringed lake swam in. Water enveloped him as he disappeared below the surface, but the sound of roaring rage met his ears before being muffled as he sank.
Panic roared to life in Asher as something brushed past his leg.
His lungs began to burn, not having had the ability to fill before being knocked into the water. He could hardly see five hand depths ahead of himself, but he could sense he was in danger. Impressed by an urgency to get out of the water he kicked his legs to push to the surface and as he kicked he felt something tug on the bottom of his pants.
Something was pulling him slowly deeper into the dark bottomless water.
His lungs were now on fire. He needed air and he feared if he didn’t gather himself and focus he would allow whatever creature had a hold of him to pull him so deep into the depths that even if he managed to get free he wouldn’t be able to swim to the surface before losing the fight and giving in to breathe in the deadly liquid.
A spark of his magic flared.
Then as if the sheer will to live, to survive, had pushed, bent and molded his magic into something he had never seen before. Asher found himself encased in a solid sphere. Outside it the filthy, dark water pressed against the bubble that held him. Unable to hold it any longer, he hoped that however he had forged this from his power it would allow him to breathe. He could no longer fight it, Asher greedily gasped in a lung full of air. His lungs burning on each inhale as if punishing him for their starvation.
Bent forward as he drew deep breaths, Asher watched in horror as a webbed, four fingered hand reached out of the depths to brush over the bottom of the sphere he stood in. It drew a moment of panic from him as he watched it repeat the motion over and over. It took him longer than it should have to realize it was trying to breach the protective bubble, but it could not.
A light from above tempted him to pry his gaze from the probing limb, and he could see he was nearing the surface, the watery image of the moon was wavering above him as the flexing sphere he was held in began to rise.
He didn’t have time to think about how he had created the sphere he was in, he would ponder on that later. Right now he needed to think and think fast about what he was going to do once it broke the surface. Would it stay intact? Or would it dissolve leaving him to the possibility of being dragged under once more?
Glancing below, he could see something distorted. Its face was small in a much larger head, but not everything was small. The creature had a large mouth which seemed to dislocate trying to take a bite out of the rippling ball he stood in. Its teeth were sharp and pointed, yellow, and broken with jagged shards in parts. Its skin deathly pale, a slight green pallor to it that made the lidless, opaque eyes all the more prominent.
So this was one of the creatures that lurked in the watery depths of the ringed lake. It was terrifying. He needed to make a plan and as he looked out he could see the submerged wall of the bank of the island just slightly ahead. He was close, if only he could evanesce that short distance he would be safe.
As if answering his call, his power rumbled, the sphere he was in began to pulse, pushing to expand briefly only to fall back to the size it was. It continued to do so until it broke the surface and the ball of air surrounding him now fell away to leave him standing on what appeared to be a path.
He didn’t linger, instead moving at speed to get away from the thing that was lurking below the surface. Like his fear had conjured it, a hand suddenly shot out of the water to swipe at him, seeking to catch him and pull him back.
Without thinking Asher shot his hand out in its direction, a sudden burst of air shot from his outstretched hand and slammed into the creature with force. Not taking time to process what he had just done, Asher used the creature”s shock to run the few remaining steps to the embankment.
Only when his feet were on firm ground did he stop to look back at the now deathly calm water, there was no sign of the creature, but he knew it was lurking below the surface.
His attention moving next to the land opposite, Asher could see no sign of what had thrown the chunk of tree that had slammed into him, but he sure as hell could feel where it had hit.
Moving quickly and cautiously Asher rushed over the still raised bridge and swiped his satchel from the platform just before it slipped off and into the water below.
He had just gotten back to the island again when the bridge shuddered.
Asher’s eyes widened as they landed on a large monster. A Weredvil, a creature the villagers who lived along the shores skirting No Man’s Land would scare their children with. Bedtime stories to scare them into staying in bed, nor leave the house once it was dark.
It was over nine feet tall, its legs like those of a goat. Its torso and chest, muscular and sculpted like any fae warrior. Its skin blending from green to brown, allowing the creature to be able to camouflage and blend into its surroundings. The face however...the thing born of the darkest nightmares. Smooth skin, where eyes should be. The creature was blind.
The nose and mouth of a regular fae on its face, but should you be unfortunate enough to be too close, razor-sharp teeth would be revealed. There was no surviving a situation such as that.
It was a truly terrifying creature, but not like everything else that lived on the gods awful land, and it was trying to follow him over the bridge.
Fuck!
With not another second to spare Asher ran to the emergency lever, placed for instances such as this when the timer to lower the bridge was too slow. He frantically worked to lower the mechanical platform that allowed them to avoid the pitfalls of the water below it and the jaws of the monsters that lurked in its murky depths.
The Weredvil bellowed in frustration, a deafening scream ringing out as it sprinted forward.
Asher couldn’t afford to cover his ears, he needed to drop the bridge before it made it all the way across. Even one of those creatures could cause a lot of damage and headaches for all on the island should it get access.
He gripped the lever with both hands and cranked it as fast as he could, but it was not fast enough.
The creature was nearly across.
He had no choice. Pulling his dagger from its sheath Asher slammed it into the workings of the mechanism. It made a crunching sound before a deafening strangled whine erupted from it and with a loud whoosh the bridge lost all stability and flopped into the water below.
The Weredvil roared in frustration and panic as it hit the water”s surface before disappearing briefly below. It had no sooner broken the surface when two sets of webbed hands sprung from the water gripping onto its hair and limbs dragging it thrashing below the surface.
He watched transfixed, needing to reassure himself that it wouldn’t break free. Seconds turned to minutes, he sat with his hand on his chest, his heart underneath it beating wildly.
It didn’t resurface. The Weredvil had taken his place as dinner for the vile beasts living in the freezing, dank depths of the lake.
His back against the trunk of a tree, Asher focused on catching his breath. He had only come close to dying once before. It was while on an assignment. He had been tortured to within an inch of his last breath and even that seemed like a party compared to what had just happened to him.
What the fuck had happened?
More importantly, how on Faelorn’s green earth had he managed to create a blast of...what was it? A ball of air? Pure energy? He had no idea, but whatever it was he was both thankful for its emergence and fearful. This was not one of his abilities, never had been. And the sphere that had formed around him under the water, if not for that he would have died. His lungs had all but given up and were about to force him to take in the dirty, grimy water. Had he created that too?
A soft breeze blew across the wooded area, his clothes soaked and stuck to him like a second skin causing goosebumps to pebble. Priorities, he needed to get changed into something dry and he needed to catch up on sleep, maybe then he could process with some accuracy what had happened.
The wind was picking up, the chill making him shiver. He wished he was dry, Asher hated nothing more than sitting or traveling in wet clothes, it was a pain in the ass and his hair would need washing. He cringed at the grime that stuck to the long white strands of his hair. He ran his fingers through the left side of his hair and sighed as they got caught in the white locks.
Sighing, Asher focused and a blink later his hair was back to it blue-black that he was expecting. But what came as a shock was that it was now dry. His brows pulled into a deep v as he ran through all the possibilities of what had happened and what was still happening to his magic. Deciding to see if it was a fluke, Asher closed his eyes and focused intensely. He wanted to be dry. His clothes and satchel both needed to be dry and no better time to see if this new found power was controllable.
Closing his eyes, Asher inhaled through his nose and out slowly through his lips. He did this a few times, each repetition calming him, helping him focus. He would focus on his clothing first. He imagined them dry, smelling fresh. Yeah, he had high hopes, no harm in that. And sure enough, although they smelled of something foul, they were dry. No longer sticking to him and making him cold and miserable but his breath caught when he noticed that a few inches from his body was an aura of liquid. It appeared around him like a halo. Was that the water that had come from his clothes? How was it possible? How was any of it possible?
Tilting his head, Asher couldn’t help but smile a little at this new gift. He lifted his hand and made a fist, then raised two fingers and began to twist them in the air. He focused on the water that surrounded him and imagined it spinning then taking a chance, with a flick of his wrist he imagined it shoot off into the water to the side of where he sat. His eyes grew wider as they gathered in a ball before following the direction he had pointed and splashing into the water beside him.
He sat open-mouthed.
Shaking his head, Asher pushed to his feet, his very boots and socks dry. He didn’t know what to think. His mind was so frazzled he couldn’t process it all. He needed to find out what the hell was going on. Because even with the sheer amount of magical energy he had expelled Asher could feel an almost bottomless pit of it still there deep within him.
He swallowed, and not for the first time since it had all begun, Asher wondered if telling Violet and the others was such a wise decision after all.
Pulling the satchel over his shoulder, Asher turned in the direction of the old ruin and the secret entrance of the Guild. He had a little bit of a walk, perhaps thirty minutes or so, until he got there. Maybe enough time to get his head around everything. First the bond burned from his body and now this newfound well of power. There had to be a reason.