Scion Rising Page 7

  Wyllea shook her head. “I wouldn’t leave you.”

  “Oh.” He smiled. “Wyllea, I…”

  “Not now. We have a fight to win.” She rose and motioned to the other two.

  “Ah, right. Well, you go. I’ll just sit here and collect myself for a moment.”

  She nodded and turned to the combat.

  “You didn’t defeat me last time, and you won’t this time, give up Senia!” the man said derisively.

  It hadn’t even been that long, but it seemed as if he was starting to gain the upper hand, attacking more than defending. Wyllea crept quietly until she was directly behind him then unleashed the full fury of Eaglewing’s wrath upon the man.

  The shadow sword was there, lifted high, blade down behind his back to block the first arrow, then he leapt to the side. Wyllea saw her mistake instantly, for the other woman… Senia, who’d not seen the arrows coming was now directly in their path. Yet the other woman’s speed and grace were amazing, and she blocked two before the rest of the arrows simply vanished.

  You can make them go away?

  I can. Interesting trick, isn’t it?

  I’ll say.

  Then Wyllea fired volley after volley at the man, who danced and jumped around the clearing to evade the attacks from both women. He even began to laugh at one point.

  “Now this is a fight!” he yelled into the night, beating aside another arrow, then deftly blocking a strike from Senia.

  Then it happened.

  He got too cocky. In her next attack, Senia’s sequence of blows caused him to step back, but he was already at the edge of the clearing. His foot caught a tree root, and he misstepped. Wyllea fired, and even though he still tried to dodge the attack, it caught him with a long, glancing blow across his ribs, ripping through his armor.

  He beat back Senia and leapt away again, but when he landed, Wyllea had already fired. He deflected the arrow, but not well enough, and it slashed across his thigh.

  The man turned, leaping away… or at least he would have.

  But the one person forgotten in this melee stopped him.

  Tirol’s short sword slid into the man’s belly. The large man clutched at it, staggering back. Tirol lost his grip on the weapon but quickly had a dagger out and pounced, sinking the weapon into the man’s shoulder. The man fell with Tirol atop him.

  The man had enough strength to try to lift his sword to attack Tirol, but Senia was there, knocking the blade down and away, then kicking it out of his hand and bringing her burning blade, Emberthorn, to the man’s throat.

  Tirol plucked out his dagger and drew back, meaning to strike again, but Senia called out, “Stop!”

  Tirol froze. “I’ll kill him,” he said through clenched teeth.

  “No, you won’t.” Senia, though still young by all appearances, had a very commanding voice, and Tirol didn’t move. He didn’t put his dagger away, but he also didn’t attack. He sat rigid, ready to strike.

  “Give me one good reason why?”

  “Because he’s The Blacklord’s son, and I have so very many questions to ask him.” With that, she knelt next to the man and slammed her sword down on his head. The blow probably would have killed any normal man, but this one just went limp, still breathing.

  “The Blacklord has a son?” Tirol said, lowering his dagger, his words echoing Wyllea’s own thoughts.

  “He does, and he may hold the key to winning the war.”

  Wyllea sat next to the fire, feeling all the aches of the past day, physical and emotional, come back to her.

  The past few hours had seen some amazing highs and some devastating lows and had pushed her to her limits physically. She was exhausted, body and soul. If it wasn’t for the extra energy and vigor obtained through her connection with Eaglewing, she’d be fast asleep.

  She didn’t feel quite so bad about being defeated by the one Senia called Davar, or the Dark Scion, knowing now how tough he was. He’d had a sword clean through his gut, but as soon as they had removed it, the wound had started healing. As it was, with not much time having passed, the moon still unset in the sky, he was nearly fully healed. Luckily, he was still unconscious. They had put his own special manacles on him. Senia said the restraints would keep him from contacting or using his scion sword. This is what he’d used on Senia to get her this far. They had also bound him to a stout tree, though given his immense strength Wyllea wondered how much that might stop him. Senia seemed to think that without his sword he’d be far weaker. That remained to be seen. Senia had also placed something called a “spirit ward” on him so they would know when he awoke. It seemed a lot, but this man was The Blacklord’s son.

  The Blacklord’s son.

  The most powerful man in the world had a son. A man so powerful in magic he’d sustained his own life for over two hundred years, and this was his offspring? No wonder Davar was no easy foe to best. And to think he’d been brought low by Tirol.

  That brought her mind to the jumbled mess of emotions and thoughts that surrounded the spry hunter. He was fast asleep next to the fire. She was sure he was exhausted as well and didn’t have the benefit of a magical item to keep him awake. On one hand, she couldn’t figure out why he was still with her. She’d forced him into several situations she was sure he would have run far and fast from otherwise. He’d seemed somewhat taken with her back at the creek… had that been only yesterday? Yet she couldn’t imagine anyone being so smitten with her that they’d follow her through all of this. She wasn’t anything special, an average woman and a warrior. For most men, the warrior part scared them away. And yet, on the other hand, she really couldn’t imagine life without him anymore. It was the oddest thing. He’d been in her life only a few days, less than a full week, and she found his company… reassuring, steady, enjoyable. She wanted to have him around, but couldn’t truly understand what it was that made him stay.

  She’d been terrified that Tirol hadn’t survived Davar’s attack. She’d seen more than enough men die around her in her years in the army. But if he died, that would be… different, and she didn’t know why.

  Gods, but you humans are a mess, Eaglewing said.

  I won’t argue with you on that point.

  Do you really not understand your own feelings?

  Right now, there’s little I understand. Why? Do you understand any of this?

  I’ve been with a few bonded humans in my time. I know enough.

  So why do I feel this way?

  In my experience, you’ll need to figure that out on your own. My interference really won’t do much to help.

  Great, thanks.

  Anytime. Wyllea could tell Eaglewing was grinning and hated her for it.

  “I still can’t believe it. Another scion.” This from Senia, sitting on the other side of the fire.

  “I take it there aren’t many?” Wyllea asked.

  “I thought I was the only one.”

  “Oh.” Wyllea studied the other woman for a moment. Even though she was young, not past twenty, if Wyllea guessed correctly, she had an air of strength about her. She sat straight, poised, confident, with her head slightly forward such that her long reddish hair fell around her face. In a lot of ways, she was the opposite of Wyllea, tall, slender, young, and beautiful to Wyllea’s average height and curvy, weathered exterior. And though Wyllea wouldn’t consider herself to be old, she had more than half a decade on the other woman and had led a hard life, seeing things in her years which had made her feel older still.

  Yet Wyllea sensed that on the inside the two of them were very similar, strong, assured, confident warriors. Senia deserved the truth.

  “I’m not a true scion.”

  Senia’s head came up, her looks curious. “What do you mean?”

  Wyllea smiled. “Forgive me. I’m new to this and still don’t really fully understand all the details, but from what I understand from Eaglewing, our bonding wasn’t normal. Where you’re a descendant of some great warrior from long ago, I’m not.”

/>   “But then, how…?”

  “I don’t rightly know myself, but it seems that Eaglewing here has been in my family for generations. From my own knowledge, I know that this same bow was passed down from my great-great-great-grandfather to me. So according to Eaglewing, since she has been with my bloodline for so long, she started to form a new attachment to us. This attachment had grown strong enough that when my own defenses were weak enough she was able to break through and communicate with me. Once that happened, our connection grew stronger and stronger until I finally let her fully bond with me.”

  “I wouldn’t have thought that possible.”

  “Well, apparently it is.”

  “Apparently.” Senia was quiet for a moment, then grinned. “I can tell you this. When we get back to St. Antin, there are going to be a lot of people who will want to talk to you and figure out what happened.”

  “I recall hearing of St. Antin. Last I heard, all of Hallania was retreating to the fortress. Does it still stand?”

  “It did five days ago when I was captured. Though without me I don’t know how well they fared.”

  “You certainly have a high opinion of yourself.”

  Senia smiled. “It’s not like that. Emberthorn is tied to the Element of Fire, which in turn represents spirit. One of the more subtle abilities I possess is to lift and inspire the spirits of those around me. That, along with my battle prowess and other enhanced attributes, means that I’m often seen as a beacon of light, of hope, by those around me.”

  She didn’t really know where the knowledge came from, but Wyllea said, “Eaglewing is of Wind and Mind. I’m still figuring out the full extent of her powers, but there’s an innate knowing which I seem to have acquired by virtue of the bonding.”

  Senia nodded her understanding. “The monks at the abbey can help you learn all your abilities and train you to deepen them. You’ll make a fine addition to our fight.”

  Wyllea drew in a long breath and looked over at Tirol’s still form. Would he join this fight? He wasn’t a warrior, though his skills at stealth and tracking were exceptional. It would be his choice, but there was a part of her that hoped he’d choose to stay and fight, hoped he was the man she so desired him to be.

  “What’s his story?” Senia asked.

  “We met only a few days ago in a town—”

  “Davar’s awake!” Senia interrupted.

  Wyllea turned to see The Blacklord’s son still and unmoving where they’d tied him to the tree. He was not far away, a few long paces. She raised Eaglewing and pulled back the string, just to be safe.

  A moment later, the man’s head rose slowly, a sly smile on his face. He seemed well enough now, all his wounds healed. Senia and Wyllea sat tense, waiting.

  “Ladies,” he said with a bob of his head. He moved against the ropes binding him, but they held and he grimaced. “Usually I’m not the one tied up, but if you want to take advantage of me, I supposed I could let you.”

  Wyllea relaxed a little. He seemed fairly secure. Nonetheless, she kept Eaglewing at the ready.

  “What do we do now?” she asked Senia.

  “Watch him like a hawk,” the other woman said with a shrug.

  Wyllea had a better idea. She loosed three arrows into him. He grunted in pain as the three mystically created arrows faded away. He didn’t even bleed, but he did seem distracted and faint. “Let him heal that.”

  Senia gave a short, harsh laugh. “Fair enough.”

  They were both wary now, though, and took turns watching him as the night progressed.

  It was a short while later, the moon having set, when something sprang to life at the edge of Wyllea’s senses.

  She looked over to Senia who was tilting her head as if listening intently.

  What is that? She asked Eaglewing, still not having been with the weapon long enough to know all the signs and sensations of their bonding.

  Someone — make that many someones — are heading this way fast!

  “Someone’s coming,” she and Senia said over each other as they both rose, weapons ready.

  Wyllea spared a moment to nudge Tirol with her toe.

  He groaned.

  “Wake up. I think another fight is on the way.”

  “Great,” he mumbled, his voice thick. He rose slowly, groaning again.

  Then there was no more time to talk as dark forms dropped into the small clearing. More of The Blacklord’s assassins and—

  Wyllea blinked. That wasn’t possible.

  “Hello, ladies,” said a man who was a twin to Davar.

  She spared a glance at The Blacklord’s son. He still sat, still tied to the tree, smiling.

  “Who are you?” Senia challenged as everyone in the clearing stood poised, ready. Only Tirol was unprepared, rising to his feet groggily and taking out his sword.

  “I would love to stay and chat, but I have to free my… brother.” Wyllea noticed the pause and without really thinking sent her senses into the man. One of Eaglewing’s powers was to read minds, but her senses found nothing there to read.

  Odd.

  She didn’t have more time to ponder it, however.

  “Shadowfang!” the twin called, and Davar’s sword appeared in his hands.

  Wait… that wasn’t right. These weapons were unique and could only be wielded by one person. And why would The Blacklord’s sons share a sword? These thoughts would have to wait, as attacks were coming at her from all side, and she sprung into the fight.

  She was more used to the feel of Eaglewing now than that first fight with The Blacklord’s assassins. She’d been unable to handle the speed, the abilities, and had blacked out, but now, despite a difference of only a few hours, she flowed with Eaglewing into the fray, and the first thing she did was get to higher ground — well… not ground at all.

  She leapt into the air, stopping about thirty feet up, and there she floated. Eaglewing was of wind, and she could fly when needed.

  She rained arrows down on those below, but from her raised vantage, she could see other assassins moving through the night, hopping over or slinking through the thick brush below. There must have been fifty in all. Yet between her arrows and Emberthorn’s blue-burning blade, they dropped quickly. Her fight with Davar had been so much more challenging than this. That brought her mind to The Blacklord’s son and his twin.

  The twin was ignoring the fight, guarding his brother and letting his minions keep the scions busy. But why wasn’t he attacking?

  Davar is doing something with his mind. I can sense it, but I don’t know what. Eaglewing was concerned. He’s a powerful wind talent. His mental powers are strong. Not as strong as us, but if his brother is the same, that’s probably why we couldn’t read him earlier.

  Wyllea looked around, her senses mixed with Eaglewing’s. Between shots at the ever-increasing number of assassins heading their way, she tried to figure out what Davar was doing.

  I don’t need to know what he’s doing. She fired several arrows at his head. But that’s where the brother came in, deflecting the shots at his twin.

  Blazes!

  There! I’ve figured out what he’s up to. It was such a fine usage of wind it took me a moment.

  I don’t need to know the details. Just show me!

  There! Eaglewing couldn’t point, but Wyllea knew where to look. There was a pouch tied tightly on Senia’s belt. The drawstring had been pulled open carefully. Senia hadn’t even noticed. Then a brief gust of wind blew into the pouch, inflating it and blowing out its contents, a golden key.

  “Senia!” But even as Wyllea shouted the name, the key flew like a shot to the hand of Davar’s twin. “He’s got the key. He’ll be free in a moment!”

  Senia spun, clapping a hand over the pouch, feeling its emptiness. She swore.

  “I can’t leave,” was the reply.

  Wyllea could see why. Senia couldn’t move far from her spot without exposing Tirol to attack. As quick and agile as the man was, he simply wasn’t up to fighti
ng the assassins, even just one on one, after everything he’d been through today. He could keep from taking a hit but probably wouldn’t get any chance to strike, meaning it was a fight of exhaustion and he was already tired.

  “Go. I’ll protect him,” Wyllea called and focused her shots on those around Tirol. Her magical arrows fell with the speed and deadly force of lightning, flashing through the night.

  Senia fought the twin, though Wyllea had no idea how the young woman would fare against two of them. But once Davar had freed himself from the bindings, he leapt away, disappearing in a puff of shadow-smoke.

  A moment later, the second one did the same, letting the sword fall, but before it even hit the ground, it too vanished into wisps of shadow.

  Within a few heartbeats, the remaining assassins were dealt with. Wyllea landed, floating to the ground.

  Her mind was whirling about Davar and his twin, but her first thought was for Tirol.

  “Are you hurt?” she asked him, surprising herself at the concern and worry in her voice.

  He smiled, looking tired and worn like he’d been fighting for hours as opposed to only scant minutes. “No. You kept them off me.” Then he sat heavily and sighed. “But I really need a long nap.”

  Wyllea turned to Senia

  “That was odd.”

  Senia nodded. “Why didn’t they attack when they had the chance? Two of them against me would probably not have gone well.”

  Thoughts finally started clicking into place for Wyllea. “I don’t think there were two of them.” She raised a hand to forestall the question she saw on Senia’s lips. “Hear me out. His talent with mind is strong, but mine is stronger. When I probed the twin, I felt nothing. It wasn’t a barrier. It was just… nothing. There was no mind there. I think the twin was some sort of construct or illusion. Also, if they really were brothers, both sons of The Blacklord, why would they share one sword? The twin should have had his own, but instead he used Davar’s. I think it was some form of defensive ability, a duplicate to throw people off.”

  Senia was nodding. “That makes sense.” She sighed heavily. “But he’s gone now.” She cocked her head to one side. “My hearing is exceptional, but I can’t hear him at all.”