The Shadowed Land Page 8

  Nadia thought about that. Her father had always remarked that she never got sick. In fact, the only time she could recall falling ill was when she'd eaten those green berries in the forest. She'd never caught fevers or spent weeks coughing her lungs out with a bad chest cold.

  Her mother and father had become sick, however. She'd always thought she'd gained her intuitions and other talents from them, but perhaps she hadn't. Perhaps magic didn't pass from parents to their children. It was all a confusing mess in her head, and she didn't need these thoughts right now. All that mattered was Markus.

  "Markus has his own healing talents," she said. "He should be fine, right?"

  "Yes, he'll be immune to the plague."

  Nadia should have felt relieved at that, but she still felt as if some unseen force were suffocating her. "Can you take us to this scholar you mentioned?"

  "I have patients to take care of," said the doctor, "but I can write you a quick note that'll get her to talk to you." He grabbed some paper from the nearby desk, scribbled a message on it, then handed the note to Nadia. "You need this note because sorcerers are notably stingy about their time. For some reason, they think they're more important than the rest of us."

  "Well, they have made at least one Pilgrimage," Kevin said.

  "What's a Pilgrimage?" Nadia asked.

  "There are eight temples of magic in the world," Kevin said. "To become a sorcerer, you have to gain the powers of at least one temple. It's a major commitment, and the temples present you with great challenges. Many of those who make a Pilgrimage don't come back."

  "That's how you end up with people like me," said the doctor. "I have healing powers, so I could theoretically become a sorcerer, but I'd rather not die." He shrugged. "Besides, I don't really like most sorcerers."

  Markus groaned suddenly, and when Nadia looked at him, his eyes were fluttering. He tried to push himself to his feet but collapsed.

  "I think I feel better," he said.

  Nadia's throat felt tight. "It's only temporary. But don't worry, Markus. I'll be searching for a cure for you. It's out there. All I have to do is find it."

  "Yeah, that sounds nice," he said. Then his eyes closed. With a sudden surge of panic, Nadia tried to rouse him. He groaned feebly, but his eyes didn't come open.

  "There's nothing you can do for him," said the doctor. "Leave it to me, all right?"

  Nadia took a deep breath. "I will find a way, Markus."

  "Let's go see this scholar," Rik said.

  Nadia gave him a quick nod, then started toward the door, note in hand. While she, Kevin, and Rik stepped out the door, the doctor and one of the nurses dragged Markus into the other room.

  Nadia felt a twinge in her stomach, but she ignored it. She couldn't let her doubts and fears get in the way of saving Markus. They would do her no favors.

  "I know the way," Kevin said as he climbed into the wagon, where the two guards still waited. Nadia and Rik got into the back of the wagon, and Kevin led the horses slowly through the streets. Occasionally, they had to stop, for the throngs of people had grown large.

  They traveled into the first part of the city that looked wealthy. Here, the houses weren't quite the manors that used to stand on Crayden's western side, but they were enough to convince Nadia that the world out here wasn't entirely horrible.

  At the southern side of the city was a complex of well-kept stone buildings. There were pristine gardens filled with every color of flower imaginable. Intricate statues, sculpted from the finest stone, flanked the stone paths, which almost gleamed in the afternoon sunlight. Dazzling water features sprayed water in beautiful geometric patterns.

  "This is our local university," Kevin said. "A place for sorcerers and the wealthy." He gestured toward the lavish surroundings. "A bit excessive, don't you think?"

  "Perhaps a bit," Nadia said. She was reminded of the splendor of her castle's gardens, of how she'd always thought it excessive. She'd never understood how people could justify such excess when others were starving in the streets. Were these people truly so heartless?

  Rik fidgeted in the wagon, staring at the university's buildings with a deep frown.

  Nadia laughed softly. "I bet you feel out of place here, Rik."

  "Yeah, maybe a little. It's hard to believe some people live like this."

  "You haven't even seen the inside yet," Kevin said.

  There was no gate keeping them off the university grounds, but there were guards stationed every thirty feet or so. As the wagon moved along one of the wide paths, a guard moved forward and held up a hand to halt their progress.

  "What business do you have at the university?" asked the man. He didn't seem unfriendly. He was simply a man doing his job.

  Nadia stepped down from the wagon and handed him the note. "We have business with one of the scholars."

  He read it with a frown. "This does seem in order, but I find it odd that people in such ragged clothing would visit a place like this."

  "We've traveled a long way to get here," Nadia said. "Please, we need to see her."

  "Very well. Go on ahead. Leave the wagon here."

  Rik got out of the wagon and stopped at Nadia's side. Kevin hesitated for a moment, but then he joined them. The two guards remained with the wagon as Kevin led them down a narrower path, heading toward the largest building in sight.

  "Have you been here before?" she asked him.

  "From time to time. I'm a merchant. I don't care who I trade with for the most part."

  "Do you know this scholar?" she asked.

  "I know her by reputation. From what I've heard, she's not as arrogant as some of the other sorcerers you'll meet. I'm sure she'll help you."

  Soon they entered the building, and Nadia's jaw dropped. The tiles inside had been polished so that they nearly glowed in the light coming through the massive windows. There were also red carpets embellished with gold stitching, as well as sculptures grander than anything Nadia had ever seen. The artistry was superb, almost lifelike.

  Tables lined the halls, featuring countless gold and silver pots and vases and candleholders. There were so many grand sights that Nadia couldn't focus on any one thing.

  "And the rest of us have to struggle," Kevin muttered.

  The corridors were packed with students going about in robes of various colors. Kevin explained what each color meant, but Nadia's mind was elsewhere. Would she ever be able to talk to Markus again? Would she ever kiss him? Would they ever make love like they had by the river? She wanted to share the rest of her days with him.

  At last, they reached a place where they could sit and wait for the scholar, whose name was Angeline. Nadia fidgeted the entire time. Her father had tried to train her to sit still, but those lessons had never taken hold.

  Time seemed to stretch endlessly. By the time the woman at a nearby desk told them they could see the scholar, the setting sun had painted the room in orange.

  "You should go in without me," Kevin said.

  Steeling her determination, Nadia strode through the door. She wasn't sure what to expect from a sorcerer. She'd only known two sorcerers: Cyrus and Warrick. One seemed a great man. The other was evil. On which side would this woman fall?

  "Please sit," Angeline said. She was seated in an elegant wooden chair behind a desk carved with intricate swirling patterns. Most of the desk was covered in books and papers. The woman's brown hair looked a bit disheveled as well, as if she'd been twirling it around her fingers while reading.

  Nadia trembled as she took a seat. "Have you read the note?"

  "Yes, I have. Doctor Reed was right to send you here."

  "Then you can help me?"

  "Perhaps." Angeline shuffled through the papers on her desk. "I had to look through some of my documents here to confirm my suspicions, and I can tell you there is at least a little hope." She shook her head. "I wouldn't expect miracles, but you might save him."

  "Just tell me what I have to do."

  "There is a potion that ca
n cure what's ailing your friend. The knowledge of how to create this potion is likely deep within the ruins of Sandersburg. It won't be easy to find. The Protectors of Sandersburg made sure that people couldn't get to their secrets. You'll have to make your way through a series of challenges meant to test both your skills and your character."

  "And if I find this knowledge?" Nadia asked.

  "You'll have to take it to a potion-maker. Like healing or the ability to read the Webs of Fate, potion-making is a talent some sorcerers possess. It is rare, however. Very rare."

  "Then how will I find someone who can help me?"

  "The last known person to have the talent of potion-making lived in the Empire. He's an immortal sorcerer, so he may still be alive. You see, Warrick has always distrusted anyone who possesses the talent of sorcery, but he doesn't typically kill them. Instead, he sends them to a place he calls the Prison City."

  "I've heard of it," Nadia said, wishing she'd stop shaking. "But how do you know so much about Warrick?"

  "He's the most powerful sorcerer the world has ever known. As a scholar and sorcerer myself, I'm eager to learn as much as I can of him. I've actually entered the Empire. Those of us with sorcery can pass through a number of weak spots in the barrier, more of them than the average person at any rate."

  "I don't understand," Nadia said. "Why does the barrier stop Warrick then?"

  "Because it was designed it to hold him in, not to stop all sorcerers."

  "Will you be able to get us back into the Empire?" Nadia asked.

  "I'm afraid not," Angeline said. "I have too many pressing matters to deal with here." She opened a desk drawer and rummaged through it. "However, I can give you this ring. It contains some of my fire magic, and it will help you get through a weak spot in the barrier." She unfurled a scroll on the desk, revealing a map, and pointed to a spot on it. "Here's the place."

  "But that's south of the Fire Mountains," Nadia said.

  Angeline sighed deeply. "It's the closest I can get you. Even with my full powers on your side, you couldn't get any closer than that. These weak spots in the barrier are rare."

  "I understand," Nadia said, but she felt the beginning of tears again. She didn't want to think about traveling through the Fire Mountains. The small taste she'd had was more than she ever wanted. The only good thing was that Markus wouldn't be joining them. She remembered all too well the way he'd panicked in that narrow passage.

  "I wish I could be of more help," Angeline said.

  "It's all right. You've given me something I didn't have before: hope."

  Chapter 10: The Clan War

  Berig's heart pounded as he watched the clan's warriors prepare for battle. He stood back with the children and some of the women, mostly the mothers of those children. The other women had joined the men, wielding bows and swords.

  Danica stood beside him. They'd both been given swords, but Berig didn't feel comfortable holding the weapon. Along with a few warriors, their job was to protect the children. Berig thought Darek just wanted the two of them out of the way.

  The campsite was in chaos, with people running everywhere. Berig had no idea when Clan Seagull would arrive, and he felt sicker with every passing moment.

  Screams came from the east. The warriors of Clan Mountain Eagle raised their weapons in response and shouted a deafening battle cry.

  Aric and Klint had joined the warriors at the edges of the settlement. When Berig glanced over at Danica, he could see the fear in her wide eyes. Even her positive attitude couldn't survive something like this.

  "How're you feeling?" Berig asked.

  "I-I've been better."

  Berig thought about putting a hand on her shoulder, then decided against it. She liked him as a friend, not as a lover. On some level, Berig thought she'd enjoy a friendly, supportive gesture, but he lacked the courage. As he always had.

  He faced the coming battle, trying not to throw up.

  * * * * *

  Klint stood at the front of the line of warriors, holding his staff ready. Channelers were not common in the clans, so Darek thought Klint would give them an advantage. While Klint understood that reasoning, he wanted to be anywhere else.

  As a thief and smuggler, he'd always relied on stealth and surprise. Sure, he'd faced a few monsters in his time, but he'd never seen a battle like this. Few in the Empire had.

  "You look like you're already dead," he said to Aric.

  "Yeah, I think I might as well be."

  "That hopeful?"

  "Look at those riders. What're the chances we survive?"

  "What were the chances that we'd escape the Empire?" Klint said. "I've faced long odds before, and I'll face them again." He took a deep breath. "Besides, I've got magic on my side."

  Still, he trembled as the mass of riders approached, thundering across the open plain. This was not a small group. No, there had to be hundreds of these riders. Clan Mountain Eagle had hundreds of warriors as well, but numbers were no guarantee.

  Darek sat high upon his horse, glaring at the approaching riders. "This is just another skirmish," he told the assembled warriors. "We've beaten them before, and we'll do it again."

  "Wish I could feel so sure," Klint muttered, hoping he was masking his fear. In his life, he couldn't show fear. He'd dealt with people who could sense fear from a mile away, who would pounce on that fear like the predators of the Black Swamp.

  The riders came within range, and Clan Mountain Eagle's archers unleashed their arrows. A resulting flurry of arrows came from their enemies. Klint, standing at the front of the group, used his staff to create a shield around himself and those close to him. The arrows disintegrated when they hit the shield. Still, Klint couldn't survive forever. At some point, he had to attack.

  Shouts and screams came from all around. The approaching riders roared as they charged. Arrows rained down from the sky, and the archers of Clan Mountain Eagle were falling by the dozens, as were the other warriors around them.

  Darek gave the order to charge, and Klint found himself swept up in the attack. He didn't have a horse, but he raced forward with everyone else. Aric remained at Klint's side, seeking the protection of the shield. Whenever Klint looked at Aric, he worried the man's illness would return. Aric appeared strong, but how long would that last in the heat of battle?

  More arrows fell from the sky. Someone to Klint's left fell with a strangled cry. Heart pounding, Klint continued his charge until he was within spell range.

  Energy surged through him as he channeled magic through his staff. A wave of fire burst from the staff, striking the front line of charging clansmen. Engulfed in flames, they tripped and fell. They screamed, shouted, cursed. Someone shouted incoherent orders.

  Klint sent surge after surge of fire at the enemy. Some of Clan Mountain Eagle's warriors had formed a protective wall around him, using thick shields to protect him from arrows.

  Eventually, Klint tired. He'd experienced this before: a sign that he needed to switch to a different type of spell. Acting on instinct, he launched a burst of lightning. More screams came from the enemy. Klint hesitated, wondering if he should be killing these people.

  No. They were trying to kill him and the people who'd helped him.

  He continued sending blasts of lightning at the soldiers, weakening with each spell. The screams and shouts of battle, the clanking of swords, the faces of comrades and enemies alike—they all faded into a dull roar, a steady rhythm. Klint had never experienced anything like this before, and he hated it. So much killing.

  A bunch of enemy warriors charged toward Klint. They must have found the source of the spells destroying their ranks. The warriors around Klint rushed to defend him, but he didn't think it'd be enough. Some of them were young, maybe twelve years old. Others looked too old or weak to pose a threat.

  This was not going to end well.

  * * * * *

  Berig shuddered as the battle came closer. Some of the riders from Clan Seagull had flanked Clan Mountain
Eagle's defenders. Now the enemy was battering away at the last defenses between them and the children of Clan Mountain Eagle.

  "Will they kill all of us?" Berig asked a nearby clanswoman.

  "They'll probably take us captive," the woman said. "But in the end, we will likely die."

  Danica sounded on the verge of tears. "How can you live like this? All this war. All this killing. This is no way to live."

  "It's what we've always known."

  The shouts and screams came closer. Berig could have sworn he smelled blood in the air. Soon that would be the blood of children. Most of the women, including some of the old, held weapons, and even a few of the children looked ready to fight back, but it wouldn't be enough.

  What kind of cruel world forced children to fight in wars?

  A great roar came from Berig's left, and he turned to see that Clan Seagull had breached their defenses. The warriors rode their horses into the center of the settlement, slaughtering those few members of Clan Mountain Eagle who tried to slow them.

  Berig glanced at Danica. "Got any ideas?"

  She looked paler than he'd ever seen her. "No. What hope do we have?"

  "Then we might as well lay down our weapons," Berig said. "Maybe they'll spare us."

  "I wouldn't depend on that," said the nearby clanswoman.

  Trembling, Berig dropped his sword and waited for his fate.

  * * * * *

  Klint had run through all his spells, all his energy reserves. He was doubled over, sweat pouring down his face. All he had left was his sword, and while he was proficient with the blade, he was no master. He'd grown too reliant on his magic. The battle had died down momentarily, but that calm was short-lived.

  "They've breached our defenses!" Darek shouted. "They're inside the settlement."

  Klint turned, feeling a sudden surge of energy. Berig and Danica were in that city. He'd grown close to them in a way he hadn't felt since he was a child, before his life had taken so many dark turns. He had to protect them.

  He raced through the city, heading toward the sounds of chaos, amazed that he'd survived this long. Some people said he lived a charmed life, but he doubted that.