The Apostate Prince (Godswar Chronicles Book 2) Page 16

  His mother had told the story of her escape from Hillside at temple gatherings and dinner tables a thousand times. But over the years, she omitted certain parts of the story in favor of her moral lesson: the courage of faith in the Goddess. She hardly ever mentioned how she laid down in the brook, shivering and terrified, as the dogs ran past her.

  A coywolf sniffed on the other side of the log and Justin let them go under. His pulse quickened as the coywolf’s face appeared above, rippling above the surface of the water. Its ears perked and it ran off, abandoning its search.

  Justin brought them back up until their faces broke the surface once more. Celia let out a controlled breath next to him. His mother was still talking.

  “...going to try and sneak aboard a riverboat at the docks.”

  The sound of cracking knuckles, hundreds of them, carried over the water. Victor was shifting, preparing to lead the pack away. In a thrash of growls, splashes, and snapping twigs, the pack dashed off. His mother and Victor believed Justin had a twenty-minute head start. If he really had gone that way, he would be almost to the docks. The wolves would make it there in half that time.

  Celia whispered: “I think they're gone.”

  Another coywolf ran past, kicking up pebbles from the riverbank on the other side of the downed black willow bough. Justin waited another moment and then pulled Celia through the water, around the log. Once they were closer to shore where Celia’s feet touched bottom, he reluctantly let go of her. They walked out of the river together, staying low as they rose out of the water.

  Justin searched the tree and shore lines. The birds did not resume their song. Nothing moved. Either the presence of so many predators had driven every other creature from the area, or one still lingered. Celia lowered her sword and relaxed her posture. Justin crossed his lips with his index finger.

  Ferns lined the bank between the black willows and Justin pointed to them and crept his way over. A light breeze rustled through the leaves above and the river gurgled against the bigger rocks along the shore. He laid down in the soft ferns and let out a long breath. Celia laid down next to him on her belly, sword between them. She put one hand under her cheek and breathed a sigh of relief. She smiled at him, her green eyes dazzling in a ray of sun.

  “It worked,” she whispered.

  Justin rolled onto his back. A headache had set in behind his ear. He had cast, rememorized, and re-cast hundreds of spells in the past three weeks. A poor night’s sleep, the incident at The Pit, and eating only bread that shattered like shale did not help matters. The strain of maintaining the Illusion of the scent-paths while suppressing their own smell for so long had pushed him to his limit. The water had helped but that required a different sort of endurance. Still, the forest remained silent. He dismissed the scent trails but not his and Celia’s disguise on the wind.

  “There’s still a wolf somewhere close but we have to move. The ravens will be watching for us.”

  “Still?”

  “They will recognize our faces for generations,” he said, rubbing behind his ears in little circles with his fingertips. “And it won’t be long before my mother and Victor realize their mistake and come right back here even if we aren’t spotted.”

  A second Ghostly Steed took Justin thirty to thirty-five minutes to memorize under the best of conditions. It was not going to happen. They did not have the time, nor did Justin have the ability. The headache would only get worse until he got some rest. He closed his eyes. The breeze rustled the trees above and the sun warmed his face.

  “What now then?” Celia whispered. She tugged at his sleeve. “Those bright red robes are not going to let us stay hidden in the ferns very long. We should at least move into the woods.”

  Justin strained his ears to listen for signs of an Abyssal wolf and breathed deep for the scent of sulfur. A simple coywolf - big as the ones in Hornstall Wood got - could not hush the forest on both sides of the river for so long. He kept his eyes closed,and his voice low.

  “We’re not clear yet. I think we need to get you out of here.”

  “I vowed to return with you to Aflua.”

  “We don't have time for me to memorize another spell and I’m not sure I could if we did.” He rubbed from his neck to behind his ears.

  “Headache?” she asked.

  Justin nodded, eyes closed. “I have some medicine.”

  Celia’s hand found his as they lay side by side. She propped herself on one arm and kissed him on the forehead. Her lips brushed against his skin as she whispered, her breath tickling him.

  “By your light, he is healed.”

  Either from her lips, his waterlogged underclothes, or the prayer she uttered, a chill ran along Justin’s spine. The headache receded a bit but still lingered. Not even divine healing cured complete exhaustion of the mind. She kept her hand in his, her shadow blocking out the sun as she leaned over him.

  Justin opened his eyes and swept his hair from his nose. Her wet red locks hung to one side, dripping on his cheek. Her full lips smiled and it reached her green eyes. She squeezed his hand. Justin cupped her jaw, holding her still. He lifted his head and pressed his lips to hers, breathless. Her breath hitched as she responded, pressing her body against him. He rolled her to the side and held her - as time stood still around them. She held his face as she broke the kiss and then smiled at him again, biting her lower lip. He stroked her cheek.

  "I need to get you safe."

  “I go with you, or I don't go. You don’t belong here, Justin.”

  “I’m going with you,” he vowed, and lifted himself onto his elbows. “Just not right now.”

  He stood up and held out a hand to help her. She accepted it and stood up next to him. Justin pointed south, up the winding river.

  “Follow the river as long as you can but keep your heading south. The horse should last about eight hours. It doesn’t get hungry or tired. Just ride and don't stop. It can run over ravines, water-”

  She took his hand again. “Take this,” she said and pressed the sword’s handle into his palm.

  He shook his head and pushed it back to her. “If ever a sword belonged in one person’s hands, it’s this one. And that person is not me.”

  “Take it,” she insisted, and put a hand on his cheek. “Promise to return it to me, and take me to Aflua. If you promise, I will believe you.”

  Justin took the blade, the warmth of her hand still on the handle. “Won’t you need it?”

  “I have my Lord’s Light. You will need it more than I.”

  Justin nodded and swallowed. “I promise, this isn’t goodbye. I’ll find you. Just don’t stop riding. The spell ends when you dismount. Otherwise, it should end less than a day's walk from the Hill Dwarf village of Braigh. Wait for me there.”

  He stepped back and petted an imaginary horse in the air. The imagined brush wiped down along its neck first, then down to its imaginary muscled shoulder. His other hand rested in the air, where the horse’s back would be. The words came; a lost memory unlocked by the motions. The words flowed from his lips, indistinct and forgotten. The spell emptied from his memory. His headache returned, worse than before.

  A horse, spectral and translucent, took form under Justin’s ‘brush’. Wisps of ethereal mist trailed from its mane and hooves. It stood parallel to the river at the edge of the water.

  Celia came up to it and ran a hand down its flan, smiling, She ran her fingers through its misty mane. “It’s beautiful.”

  “It may take a while but I’ll be there. Just wait for me in Braigh.”

  “I have friends in Braigh. I stayed there for a week while I readied myself for the journey through the Orc Hills. It took me almost another week to cross them.”

  He laced his fingers to make a step up for Celia. “Now you’ll get halfway across them in about six hours. You’ll have to walk the rest of the way, but you should have enough of a head start to get to Braigh well before anyone can come looking for you.”

  She put her hands
on his shoulders and hopped up. Before she could throw her leg over to mount, motion erupted to his right from the wood line. A streak of black raced out of the woods. A massive black jaw clamped onto Celia’s shoulder with a growl and the stink of sulfur filled the air. Justin lifted the sword but the wolf tossed Celia downriver, away from him.

  She landed in a sprawl at the edge of the water with cry of pain, hands holding the wound in her shoulder. Justin stepped toward her but Victor snarled in Justin’s face. His red eyes glowed under the bone-ridge of his armored forehead. He bared his teeth, snout wrinkled in a snarl. The Empress sat in her saddle on Victor's back. She twisted away from him to look at Celia.

  The Goddess’ voice shook the air. “Don’t move.”

  Celia lay motionless next to the water, hand clutching her bleeding shoulder, body still twisted in agony. Justin took a step back and leveled the sword at Victor’s snout. The Goddess’ voice could command but the effects lasted less than a minute. If he stalled, he might find an opening to get her onto the Ghostly Steed.

  “If either of you goes near her, I’m going to find out what this sword can really do.”

  Victor sniffed at the tip of the blade and growled. Another growl joined in from the wood line to his left. Coywolves and Abyssals appeared between the trees. They had never left, they just circled back around to come at them from all sides.

  His mother faced him. Her eyes dipped to the sword with a sneer. “Put it down and I will grant her a quick death. Don't, and Victor’s pack gets an easy meal today.”

  Coywolves ventured closer to Celia, noses to the pebble-lined riverbank, snarling with their ridges raised, fur standing on end. More came up the shore behind him, leaping over downed boughs. Still others watched from the opposite side of the river, ears perked up. The Ghostly Steed waited for a rider at the edge of the river, next to him. Unused, the spell drew closer to expiring with each passing moment.

  His mother dismounted and Justin stepped back, keeping the sword up, now leveled on her. She cocked her head to the side, wintry eyes on the Ghostly Steed. The Steed swished its tail, unperturbed by the wolves or the commotion.

  The Empress ran her hand down over its haunch. “I agree with your girlfriend, it is beautiful. You have always been a talented artist.” She refocused her attention on Justin. “And clever. But you forget, I watched you learn to be clever.” She shrugged. “At least now I know you were listening to my stories.”

  His mother took another step toward him and he backed up again, holding the sword out between them.

  She smirked at the blade. “You won’t hurt me with that.”

  “No. I won’t hurt you with it. But I will not be extending Victor, Eggs, or any of their pets the same courtesy. Now let her up.”

  “You helped an enemy escape and let her kill your stepbrother – General Deetra’s only son. The Guardian dies. The only thing you get to choose now is whether it happens quickly, or if you want to listen to her scream. Drop the sword and kneel.”

  “No.”

  Celia stirred on the riverbank. Victor turned away from Justin to face her with a low rumble deep in this chest. Celia rolled to her back, blood flowing over her white linen tunic from the teeth marks in her shoulder. She got to her knees, her face smeared with mud. A coywolf snapped at her and she flinched. The circle of them tightened around her, mouths salivating. She found Justin’s eyes.

  “She’s right Justin,” she panted. “I’m going to die no matter what you do. Get on the horse.”

  Victor lunged at her and Justin leaped to the side of his mother with a swing of the sword. He caught Victor across the haunch. The blade hissed as it burned through fur, exposing muscle. Victor yelped and whirled on Justin, knocking the Empress to the ground at his feet. The coywolves and other Abyssal’s behind Victor rushed in at Celia. Celia shrieked as the first dog sunk its teeth into her outstretched arm.

  Victor snapped at him again and Justin caught him across the snout with the silver blade. Victor swatted at him and claws raked Justin’s face, sending him spinning to the ground. His mother screamed. The sword fell onto the pebbles and skidded to the edge of the water. He crawled after it, half his vision a haze of red.

  Teeth sank into Justin’s leg and dragged him back. The headache pounded in his temples and his vision blurred in rhythm. He reached for the sword, crawling against Victor’s pull. The skin on his calf and ankle peeled and the fibers of his muscles tore further apart.

  “Justin, Run!” Celia screamed, and another coywolf attached itself to Celia’s other arm. She opened her mouth to yell again but an Abyssal attacked from the side. Its teeth clamped onto her thigh. Celia arched her back and kicked with her free leg, screaming unintelligible curses and thrashing. The Abyssal Wolf whipped its head back and forth, rending Celia’s leg.

  Tears flooded Justin’s eyes, mingling with blood on his cheek. He kicked Victor in the nose. Victor let go for an instant and Justin gave a one-legged lunge toward the river for the sword again. Landing on his stomach with a thump, his fingertips brushed the pommel.

  His mother’s boot stepped on his wrist. Victor placed a paw on Justin’s back. His mother kicked the sword. It disappeared into the shallows of the water a few feet from his hand.

  “Daddyyyy!” Celia called out for her father, her face a mask of blood.

  She was only twenty feet away from him - ten steps. But Victor and his mother had him pinned, face pressed to the pebble-lined riverbank. The phantom horse nickered at him, almost within arm's reach. The spell was running out.

  Another coywolf bit Celia under the arm. Celia shrieked as it tugged, tearing a piece free. A flap of skin fell away from one cheek as her leg crunched in the Abyssal’s jaw. Celia threw her head back, convulsed once, drew a deep breath, and her shriek echoed through the forest.

  The sun found a break in the cloud. Justin turned his head toward a sparkle in his peripheral, his breath shallow from the weight on his back. His mind had gone numb. Celia still screamed and fought but her cries grew weaker, slowly fading to whining grunts and squeals amidst the slurping and snapping as the dogs dug into her. The sun shone down upon the blade in the water. It sparkled under the rippling surface.

  “Watch,” his mother said from above him.

  Dylan’s words played over in Justin’s head. The more you oppose the darkness, the stronger your light will become… My daughter sees it, your mother sees it…

  Justin’s fingers reached out to the sword, his mother’s boot still on his wrist.

  “I swear by Your Light, my soul is Yours. Just help me.”

  The sounds of rending flesh and Celia’s cries filled his ears, ripping at his heart. His mother grabbed him by his wet black hair and lifted his head. She leaned down until they were face to face. Her icy blue eyes flickered with rage.

  “What did you just say?”

  Victor’s paw came off Justin’s back and his breath returned. A calm settled over him. The pain in his ankle and in his heart quieted into an unyielding anger. He rose to all fours. Light filled his peripherals as he stared into his mother’s icy eyes.

  A layer of grime peeled away from the world, giving him clarity for the first time, like the sun on the pages of a book when he once read by candlelight. It revealed his mother’s contempt for him behind her pale irises; a flicker of darkness born of her hatred for his minotaur father. She had said it in plain language in the Sanctum but Justin did not credit the words with their due worth until now.

  “I’m sorry, Mother,” he said, and the Empress let go of his hair and jumped back. “You were right.”

  His red brocade sleeve turned white, starting at the seams. He blinked, and the transformation spread over his robe. He had only a moment to act while Victor and his Mother recovered from the shock.

  Justin leapt from the riverbank, splashing face first into the shallows of the river. Eyes open in the water, he reached down until he touched the handle. The sword flared to life in the shallow depths. He lifted it out and w
iped his hair from his face. He held the sword over his head, it’s light challenging the sun. The gold embroidery on his robe reflected the light from the blade in an aura around him.

  The coywolves backed away, as did Victor in his red-eyed wolf form. Justin high-stepped out of the water, his quiet anger the first tremors of a building earthquake. Victor averted his eyes and the other Abyssals backed up, the bony plates on their backs clicking as their hackles raised. They snarled, heads low, teeth dripping bloody saliva.

  Dylan’s words from the vision returned. Creatures born of Darkness flee before it...

  All of the wolves were either Abyssal or cross-bred with one. He made it to the shore next to the Ghostly Steed. His mother glared at him, arms folded, the pack of wolves behind her. She called the Goddess’ voice and Commanded him.

  “Stop.”

  Only the word reached him, the dark power burned away in the Light of the sword. Celia’s screams stopped and she crawled along the ground toward him. The wolves cleared the way before him. Justin walked faster and his mother backed up in front of him.

  “Justin. Don’t do this! Please!”

  “All I'm doing is getting Celia out of here. You can do what you want with me once she’s gone.”

  His mother scowled, the hatred returning to her eyes. “Never,” she hissed.

  She turned and ran over to Celia. Justin limped after her but his mother got there first. She put a knee in Celia’s back and lifted her head with a fistful of red curls. The wolves kept their distance but snarled and bared their teeth in a circle around him. His mother put the obsidian dagger to Celia’s throat.

  “Run, Justin,” she cried weakly, tears spilling onto her shredded cheeks. “You can’t save me.”

  Justin stopped and held the blazing sword aloft. Bones and tendons popped and cracked behind him. Victor was shifting back to his human form. His footsteps approached from behind. The sword only affected creatures born of darkness.

  Justin turned sideways, his mother on the ground with Celia to his left, Victor advancing from his right, and the Ghostly Steed in front of him by the river. Victor twirled the staff in front of him, feathers fluttering. Justin leveled the sword at him.