Target Of The Orders (Book 3) (9 page)

The idea made him happy.

As he finished the thought, a sharp crack rang out, and his life force became suddenly alert.

Will twisted in the saddle, peering into darkness. “What—”

“Shh,” Garrick hissed, setting his gates.

A dark form moved in the woods, dropping under cover before Garrick could identify it. He guided Kalomar away from the house and toward the forest.

His senses stretched out and he felt life—humans. Lectodinians. First five, then ten, then twenty, and more, all mages and all armed. Leaves rustled as the Lectodinians moved as one.

Garrick spoke magic, and his magelight illuminated Elman’s face.

The Lectodinian was casting, his lips moving, his hands cupped and crossed. He gave a sharp motion, and every mage in the clearing cast their sorcery at once.

Garrick funneled life force into a quick barrier that clashed with the barrage and sent a shower of sparks across the night. The Lectodinians poured more magic upon him, but Garrick’s barrier was strong and they soon found themselves in a stalemate, a steady stream of Lectodinian sorcery flowing over the Torean’s impervious shield.

“Hoping to make one more dash into your lover’s arms?” Elman called.

Garrick ignored the taunt. “Hold tight,” he said to Will as he spurred Kalomar.

The horse lowered his head and surged forward.

Garrick gritted his teeth and pushed his spell before him like a battering ram. A stream of Lectodinian flames flowed off the shield, searing the ground until Kalomar pulled to an abrupt halt.

Lectodinian magic still rained over his shield, but a gap emerged in their positions. Garrick angled for it, a path that took him toward Arianna’s house.

A light came on inside.

No!

A bolt struck the tree next to them, and the trunk cracked before falling.

Kalomar screamed and leapt away to avoid being crushed.

The pounding of hooves thundered through Garrick’s ears, and his heart pumped. He was losing ground. The Lectodinians had him running in circles, and the net was drawing tighter. His shield would not last forever.

The door to the house opened, and Arianna’s father and brothers stepped onto the porch, each carrying curved blades.

“Go back inside!” Garrick yelled.

But her father bellowed something Garrick was unable to decipher, and did not retreat.

In the sudden lull, the mages cast a cloud of sorcerous blades that glinted like silver hornets.

He fortified his barricade, but the razors tore a hole in its fabric and more blue magic flared. Kalomar screamed in agony. Pain burned through Garrick’s leg. He defended himself by sending a bolt of pure energy back in the direction the blast had come from, but there were so many of them—row upon row upon row, and his life force was fading with each exertion.

He smelled the thick bile of his hunger stirring. Its essence was strong and firm, growing more powerful as time passed. It flexed its maw now, and its head swayed to and fro like a black dragon rising from the dead.

More magic flashed ahead of them, and Kalomar reared, throwing Garrick and Will into the air.

Garrick pulled Will around so he padded the boy’s fall. His ankle made a sickening crunch as they landed, and the impact knocked the breath out of him.

“Run!” he yelled as best he could and pushed Will toward a bush.

Will scampered for cover.

The heat of his life force slid toward his injured ankle, but he didn’t want to divert attention from the shield.

Another bolt of magic flared. Kalomar screamed again, then fell heavily sideways.

Garrick tried to stand, but pain streaked his ankle.

His stomach churned.

The hunger grew colder.

Hurried footsteps crashed through the brush—more mages. The Lectodinians had learned. They were taking no chances here—they had probably sent everything they could spare and then some.

It was over.

He would lose here.

Garrick had just grown to believe he could take care of himself, and now he had been caught unprepared, yet again. No, that wasn’t correct. He had been caught unprepared
because
he had begun to think he could handle himself.

It was the hunger that spoke to him loudest now—the dark, angry fury that lay just under his skin. He had to do something, and he had to do it now or he was going to lose everything.

Flames burst a few strides away.

He stood firmly despite the pain in his ankle. He funneled magestuff from his link, and he pulled every bit of life force he could muster from inside. He spooled it all, waiting until he had enough energy built up, holding off, depleting himself until the darkness came forward in full measure.

He called on it now, bringing that hunger forward with a purpose. And, this time Garrick welcomed it. He dropped the shield around him, and he looked at the approaching mages through eyes on fire. He reached out with his wild magic, searching for every Lectodinian he could find, mapping the distance with that hunger, and feeling each target.

Arianna’s father drew near, muttering curses and wielding his blade.

“Get away!” Garrick bellowed.

A Lectodinian blast struck Garrick in the chest, and he froze with pain as the blast seeped into his being. He gathered the spell's energy into himself, though, and poured it back into his own spell work. With a single thought, he unleashed a thunderclap—a raging torrent of silver-blue energy that snaked across the forest with a flickering strobe that froze everything in place.

One Lectodinian carried a predatory smile.

Another, an expression of shock.

Garrick’s spell took them all at once, the scintillating fingers of his magic snaking out and scoring them all full-force, the power of the sorcery fueled by his anger and his need for vengeance. Energy sizzled. Life force mixed with sorcery to create a new breed of magic.

Screams echoed through the woods.

Trees bent in the wind.

Then it was over.

Garrick lay on the ground, gasping for breath, spent and unable to raise his head off the ground. It was dark, so dark. His cheek pressed hard against dirt and leaves. Hunger burned through his body. Braxidane’s whisper was a bare breath that he couldn’t decipher. Life force hung free over the woods, but he couldn’t move and the hunger merely twisted inside his gut.

A footstep crunched a few feet away.

Elman’s voice bled into Garrick’s conscious.

“That was an impressive display, Garrick. But now you will die.”

The Lectodinian's tone said Elman had been hurt, but had somehow managed to fend off the brunt of Garrick’s attack.

Elman spoke soft words of magic.

A sick green light flared about Garrick. His chest constricted. He tried to move, but could not. Faces from hi s past flashed into his mind.

I’m sorry,
Garrick thought. He had done everything he could, defeated every Lectodinian but one, but it had not been enough.

Standing above him, Elman spoke the final syllables of his spell.

Blue flames burned in his palms.

A shadow of movement flashed at the edge of Garrick’s vision.

Will!

The boy leapt from the brush, pulled the dagger from Garrick’s belt, and in one quick motion threw the blade.

It whistled end over end before embedding itself in the Lectodinian’s chest with a solid
thunk.

Elman clutched at the pommel, his spell fading, his voice gurgling in the darkness as he fell to his knees, then collapsed at Garrick’s feet.

Garrick felt the sweet closeness of Will’s life force.

This time Braxidane’s voice was strong and clear.

… now you must take …

He was too weak to deny his hunger, too weak to stop himself as he reached out for Will.

But the boy understood instinctively what others could not grasp, and he scuttled away on all fours, tumbling into the brush at the periphery of Garrick’s vision.

Good boy,
Garrick thought as his hand fell like an iron weight at his side.

“Are you all right?”

The smell of stale pipe tobacco crushed Garrick as another hand drew near. It was Arianna’s father, bending over him.

Garrick wanted to tell the man to go away. Perhaps he even managed a grunt. But his hunger was too strong, and his tongue could not make phrases.

Arianna’s father touched Garrick’s shoulder.

He could not help but to drink, could not stop himself from feeding his need. Life force flowed through him, healing his twisted ankle and healing his burned body. He arched his back, drinking in deeply. Then he stood and reached for Arianna’s brothers.

In an instant their energy, too, flooded into him.

Then came more. The lives of Lectodinina mages burned as he inhaled them all.

A horrified scream came from the house.

Garrick turned, sensing even more souls. He moved without conscious thought.

Candlelight from the doorway illuminated Arianna’s face. Her life force was pure and full, flavored with the familiar scent of strawberry. Her mother stood behind her, her essence robust and warm like the bread she had so often baked.

Take them,
his hunger said in an intoxicated rush.

And take them he did, understanding the foul extent of his actions even as he performed them.

There is more,
the hunger called.

From inside the house, Garrick sensed the pull of Shayla, Arianna’s youngest sister. He clomped through the doorway, struggling against himself with each step. The girl sat on her bed, her expression curious in the dim candlelight.

Take her!
The voice inside him cried.

He reached for Shayla, fingers outstretched and yearning. He clenched his eyes and set his jaw. His fists became tight balls.

“No,” he groaned, and pulled himself away.
“No.”

Slowly, his rage subsided, and his breathing came into control. Slowly, his surroundings came back into focus.

He turned and ran outside.

The bodies of Arianna and her mother were mere lumps on the porch, her father and brothers a short distance away.

Will sobbed in the distance.

The boy was kneeling beside Kalomar, resting his hand on the horse’s flanks.

“Come on, boy,” he said in a tiny voice. “You can do it. Get up, boy.”

Garrick’s heart twisted.

Kalomar was badly burned. Blood glistened from his flank, and a hole as big around as Garrick’s fist was burned into the thick muscles of the animal’s chest, the same muscles Garrick had marveled at as Kalomar had climbed mountain passes, the same muscles that had flowed so fluidly under him as the horse had carried him across the dry desert of Arderveer.

The animal’s proud eyes were still open, but his heart lay motionless inside his chest. Kalomar’s ears were pinned back, though—even in death, nothing could stop him from getting where he was planning to go.

“Can you save him?” Will asked.

His small hand gripped Garrick’s arm with firm desperation.

“Save him, Garrick, sir. Save him.”

Garrick kneeled down to lay a hand on Kalomar’s shoulder. He shook his head.

“It’s too late,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

Will threw himself on top of the horse and cried.

“What have I done?” Garrick said. “What have I done?”

“I’ll tell you what you’ve done,” a female voice said.

Sunathri stepped from the forest, a thin sword hanging from her hip and a group of Freeborn behind her.

“You’ve just destroyed the most powerful collection of Lectodinian mages to the east of the desert.”

Epilogue

Garrick sat alone on a granite boulder in a secluded glade.

To the rest of the world, the morning dawned blue and fresh. Across the glade, a patch of clover was green in the blazing sun. Birds called and fresh breeze rustled through trees. The aroma of wild boar roasting on the Freeborn’s spit wafted from the distance.

But for Garrick there was only pain, remorse, and the sense of loss he felt with every turn of the life force inside him. The feather thin touch of Arianna’s essence seeped through that pool to brush against his chest. She would dissipate soon. Then she would be gone like all the others. He had destroyed her—as he had destroyed her family—yet now she flowed inside him, so coyly yet so clearly there, reminding him of what a beast he was. But, despite the pain his actions brought him, the life energy also flowed with such strength that he could not deny the glory of the day around him.

It was all such a terrible confusion.

Darien came across the clearing to sit beside him.

“I cannot live like this,” Garrick finally said. The words were like bones in his throat.

“I understand.”

“You can’t possibly understand.”

“It was outside your control.”

“You’re not helping.”

Sunathri came to the conversation, sitting to Garrick’s left.

“It will come,” she said. “Your control. It will come.”

“You don’t see their faces,” Garrick replied, shaking his head. “You don’t feel their lives as you rip them …”

“You spared the young girl.”

“And what a gift I have left for her, eh?”