Wesley answered for her. “She transported it away—sent it to Vindrake. Right Alora?”
Adrenaline coursing through her veins, she quivered from head to toe. But at least the source of her nausea was gone. “Yep. Sent him packing.” She spoke with false bravado, embarrassed by her nervous reaction.
She felt a strange emptiness with Kaevin away from her side, and struggled against the urge to bring him back. He could be in the middle of a sword fight, and she might cause someone to lose his life. Ugh. The thought of Kaevin in danger brought a new queasiness to her belly.
“Thanks Dad. It’s really cool you helped instead of yelling at me.” Wesley reached out to shake his hand, but his father responded with a rather awkward hug.
“The yelling will come later, son. You have a few things to answer for when we get home. But as long as we’re here, we’ll make ourselves useful. Just don’t tell your mother.”
“But Dad—”
“We’ll discuss it later. Right now I want to know… Are there more of those things?”
“I’m pretty sure we killed that one. And I think there was only one other, but it was still alive when Alora sent it to Vindrake. I guess it could come back.”
She prayed it wouldn’t. “Morvaen thinks Vindrake is still in Portshire. That’s three days away from here. So hopefully we won’t see any more wendts.”
“The Stone Clan archers are moving to a different place, since there aren’t any enemy warriors close by.” Mr. Franks pointed over Alora’s shoulder. “But I was thinking you could take Wesley and I to the roof of that building over there.”
“Yes, but your arrows wouldn’t come with us. Or else the arrowheads wouldn’t transport.”
Mr. Franks screwed his mouth to the side. “Either way, we’d be up a proverbial creak without a paddle.”
“Or up a proverbial roof without an arrow,” said Alora.
“I guess we can just walk or, better yet, run.” Wesley tightened the strap on his quiver, preparing to follow the others. But his head jerked around at a blood-curdling shriek.
She couldn’t tell if the dry heaves that hit her were caused by the wendt’s wicked aura or her own fear. How many of those awful creatures were out there? Was this a new one or the one she’d sent to Vindrake earlier?
Wesley and Mr. Franks hurried to nock their arrows and take aim, firing in unison, while Alora attempted to lock onto the wendt with her consciousness.
*****
With the spectacular wendt on its way to Laegenshire, Vindrake turned his attention to more important matters… killing Kaevin BarGraely. Hanging the sightstone on the neck of his specially chosen guard, Zaester, Vindrake attempted to keep his excitement in check. Stone Clan, smaller and weaker than Water Clan, should have fallen to him twenty years ago when Vindrake killed Graely’s father, Stone Clan’s leader. Instead, Graely had rallied his people to fight with renewed vigor. I won’t make that mistake again. This time, the priority is to eliminate Kaevin, Graely’s son. Without a living heir Graely will lose hope, and Stone Clan will be mine. Of course, Graely’s death would be an additional boon.
Electing to remain a safe distance away with a minimal protective force of twelve, Vindrake settled in to watch the proceedings through Zaester’s eyes. Fatigue was setting in from the creation of the three wendts and cloaking them with invisibility. Wielding his bondmark during battle also required great strength as most of his warriors fought without internal motivation. Only a few had the evil and bloodlust that required little manipulation. But none of his men were aware these tasks drained his energy, a secret he guarded closely.
In the previous group, the two warriors with sightstones had been killed within the first half tenth.
He gazed into the partner stone, watching Zaester’s progress, hoping he wouldn’t be killed before accomplishing his purpose. He’d given this guard strict instructions, along with his compulsion, to avoid battle at all costs. Even with invisibility cloaking, he was to hide in the shadows and search for Kaevin and Alora. This was his one and only goal.
Soon he’d have his revenge, and Graely BarManasae would be defeated. He’d been so close to victory when he’d first captured Kaevin BarGraely, but he hadn’t realized Alora and the boy were soulmates. Now he knew their vulnerability. And unbelievably, Graely had been foolish enough to place the pair within his reach rather than keeping them safely hidden in the other realm.
His plan was foolproof. The guard’s evil-imbued blade need only scratch the skin of Alora or Kaevin, and death would be inevitable. A fortnight earlier he’d tested the blade on an unwilling volunteer and was pleased with the results. It was a rather grotesque death and painfully slow. The man’s face had puffed up until his eyes could no longer open. He’d grabbed at his neck, his desperate wheezing persisting until the air could no longer pass through his swollen throat. After the unfortunate soul had collapsed to the floor, he’d continued to thrash until he lost consciousness. The entire process had been over in the span of the sun moving half a fist.
The resultant corpse was so disgusting he determined to make Kaevin the target of the cursed sword. Alora’s face was quite beautiful, and he enjoyed that reflection on him as her father. It would be fitting for his daughter to retain her lovely visage in death.
Had the poison sword not been so costly, he would have made dozens to utilize in battle. Unfortunately, he’d had to sacrifice twenty-five men to satisfy the requirements of the magick, resulting in a blade only effective for a single use. Had he learned of the deadly sword in any place other than the Scroll of Maladorn, it might have seemed a work of evil. But, knowing God had been responsible for placing the scroll in his hands, he knew he had God’s blessing in his efforts.
To find Kaevin within the walls of Laegenshire should be a simple matter. Vindrake had returned to the scene of the last skirmish to retrieve anything of value. In the location where Graely’s son had been held captive for questioning, he pocketed several stones bloodied from Kaevin’s injuries. With a bit of dried blood, it was a simple matter to concoct a tracking potion. Now Vindrake’s warrior, having swallowed some of the brew, would move unerringly toward Kaevin, provided he was within a half-day travel.
He smiled. Success was so close he could taste it on his tongue. And it was sweet indeed.
*****
“This wendt isn’t coming very close to us. I think it’s headed straight for the area where Jireo and Kaevin are fighting.” Alora’s heart pounded in her chest. “Can you shoot it from here?”
“The moon has dimmed so much it’s hard to aim well,” said Wesley, looking at the sky. “I guess those clouds are blocking the light.”