Young Adventurers Read online

  Yet, for all its size and bulk, the troll was quick and nimble. For every attack she made, it had an effective parry. It fought like a machine, and nearly as quickly. Could it tire? The way it used its sword effectively neutralized her chances of closing in to grab it and use her Weapons-Magic. Her light rapier was no match for the troll’s heavier blade. The creature pressed the attack, forcing her backward, until she was stopped by the bole of a huge elm, which wrapped two of its branches around her before she could react, pinning her.

  Confidently, the troll approached. Mikhaila, terrified, struggled to free herself. She tried her Weapons-Magic on the tree, but the tree was so ancient, and its will so powerful and malevolent, that her Magic was like a fly trying to kill an elephant. But as the troll reached out for her, another option occurred to her. It may kill me, but I’ll sooner be dead than a slave! The troll grabbed her arm, and with that contact, she used her Magic, transforming it into a lightning bolt that struck the tree with a force that split it down the middle. As the elm began to fall, Mikhaila squirmed away, avoiding being crushed, though she lost her helmet. A branch struck her exposed head and the world went dark.

  Was it hours or minutes before she awakened? She had no idea. She was bound hands and ankles, in a deep, narrow hole in the ground. Another rope wrapped around her chest, under her arms, attached to some point above, presumably to haul her in and out of here. Somewhere up there, voices were arguing in the harsh Raheshi language. From what she could understand of Rahesho, the argument seemed to be about her.

  “And I say we jebâc the Aurigan now, the priests be damned,” one of them growled. “Lot of us haven’t njóta pjá in near a month, and besides, it’d teach ‘er her place. Make ‘er easier to bring back.” Mikhaila’s blood froze at the thought of how many Raheshis would be taking their pleasure with her. Stay calm, girl, she told herself. Panic will only make your worst fears more likely to happen. You know what General Eurydice always taught you about learning as much about your enemy as you can first.

  “You know better’n that, Nagl,” said another. “We bring ‘em in vârdvieta, them’s orders, ‘cause they brings more siolfor that way. An’ the more siolfor the dealers get, the more we get. Then you can buy all the girls you want.”

  “Are you in charge here, Helem, or am I?” Nagl answered. This last comment sent a shiver through Mikhaila she could not control. If Nagl had his way…No, this might be a situation she could use to her advantage later. She heard the voices of others muttering encouragement, either to Nagl or to Helem.

  “Neither ‘a yez,” a third voice broke in, hushing the other two. “Fine sight this is, I must say! I leave yez alone fer a day, an’ yez’re arguin’ over the blonde when yez know yez has orders ta leave ‘em be. An’ them orders, in case yez forgot, comes from all the way up top, from Magister Nejemiya hisself. So we’ll have no more talk about any diddlin’ the captive from here on out! Understood?” When Nagl did not answer quickly enough, the man repeated, “Understood?”

  She could almost see Nagl slump as he said, “Understood, Cap’n.” It was all she could do not to heave a sigh of relief, even when Nagl added, “Waste of a fine-lookin’ tail, though.”

  “Enough!” the Captain roared. “Maybe twenty lashes’ll teach you some respect for orders!”

  So they’re not so unified, are they? Remember that. And remember, too, that you rescued General Eurydice from scum like these when you were only fourteen.

  But how to get out of here? Had they seen her use her Magic? Should she risk it now, or wait for a more advantageous time, which might or might not present itself?

  It was impossible to see the sky above the ceiling of trees, but she thought she saw the flicker of fires reflected off low branches. So it was likely night. Were they waiting for day to move? In this strange forest, that might be the wisest course.

  After what seemed forever, she saw signs that the fires were starting to diminish, suggesting that most of her enemies would be sleeping. Now or never, she thought. She squirmed in her bonds, constantly listening for any sign of anyone approaching. Then she used her Magic on the ropes around her hands, turning them into a pair of short gauntlets. Her hands free, she transformed the bindings on her ankles into greaves. The rope around her chest she left in place; it must be tied to a tree or a post above. If she tampered with it, someone would surely notice.

  She tried digging out a bit of the side of the pit. That would take too long. She gave a tentative tug on the rope that disappeared somewhere above, and felt resistance. Nothing else to do but try climbing. If they’re going to give me a way out, she thought, I’m a fool if I don’t try it. She spit on each hand and levered herself up the rope with hands and feet. Her hands burned, despite the sword-calluses, and she could not move too quickly, lest her captors notice the rope tautening or moving up top. Finally, she was peering over the rim of the hole as far as she could in all directions. She saw nothing, heard nothing. She hauled herself out of the hole, untied the rope around her waist, and dropped to all fours.

  Keep moving. She crept to the shadow of a nearby tent. From within, she heard the sounds of snoring.

  The camp occupied the closest to a clearing Hærne offered, and the tents were arranged around and beside trees, which stood like giant sentinels. She smelled the remains of a roasted boar amid the odor of decay that overlay the forest. Here and there, banked fires still glowed faintly. She had just dashed across an open space for the shadow of a tall tree when she heard two sets of footsteps approaching.

  “I don’t care what the captain says. That was the voice she recognized as belonging to Nagl. “I’m going to have some fun with that Aurigan wench.”

  “Just be careful we don’t damage ‘er,” another voice said.

  “You worry too much, Brandir,” Nagl snarled. “Besides, who’s going to believe a slave, even if she does complain? Now let’s haul ‘er out of that hole an’–”

  Mikhaila was on them like a tigress Before Nagl could react, she leapt and kicked him in the chin. The blow snapped his head back and sent him into the pit. In a single movement, Mikhaila was back on her feet. “Ready to die, ‘master’?” she sneered at the second Raheshi. When she stabbed at his eyes with her stiffened fingers, he ducked and tried to head-butt her in the belly, but the boiled leather cuirass she’d created with her Magic took most of the force, and she rolled with the blow. She kicked him over her head, where he landed with a snap on his neck and did not move again. Then she turned her attention to Nagl, in the pit, who was struggling without success to clamber up the smooth sides. She had to finish this quickly, she knew, before someone heard and raised the alarm, so she found a large flat rock and dropped it on him, dashing his brains out. Then she fled, not looking back.

  She had just reached the camp perimeter when she encountered the guard. “Who goes there?” he called, just loudly enough to awaken anybody nearby. She charged him, even as he raised his spear defensively, and took him down, twisting his head until she heard the bones snap. But now others in the camp were starting to stir. She plunged into the bushes surrounding the camp, praying she did not smash into a tree or break an ankle over a hidden root. Through tall grasses and around huge trees, she fled, ducking low branches and narrowly avoiding vines that sought to catch her and brambles that snatched at her like claws. Behind her, she could see torches through the woods. She must put distance between herself and pursuit, quickly. She had no fear of exhaustion, nor of betraying herself by making noise, despite the results of Corporal Beorn’s test, but she had no real idea where she was or which way the border lay. She might blunder on like this for hours and make no real forward progress. She had to go to ground somewhere until daylight, when she would have a better chance of finding her way out.

  Suddenly, the terrain sank, and she tumbled down a long hill, landing at the bottom of a dry stream bed, littered with rocks and broken branches. This might be good luck, for she could follow it for a time and at least feel certain of not running
into a tree. As she scrambled along the rocky crevasse, however, she became aware of something watching her, a malevolent presence more felt than seen. She paused for a few heartbeats, aware that the sounds of pursuit had disappeared, and it occurred to her to wonder whether she had been directed this way, either by her pursuers or by something else.

  Eventually she came to the mouth of a cave. Before entering, she paused, listened, smelled. She heard nothing; but the scent of rot and death was overpowering, and she decided against seeking shelter there. But when she turned away, she found her path blocked by a solid wall of thick brush that had not been there a moment ago, leaving her no choice but to enter the void. With a prayer to Goddess Fehtan the Warrior, she ducked into the darkness.

  The stink was even worse inside the cavern, and she nearly gagged, but there was no other way but forward. All her fears of the dark arose, prickling her skin and wracking her with shivers. With an effort of will, she forced the fear down, but it did not vanish, merely subsided, waiting beneath the surface of her mind as a hidden lion waits for the gazelle. You saved General Eurydice from the Raheshis, she chided herself. Just keep your wits about you. But that was so hard when she could not see her hand in front of her face. Light, she thought, what I wouldn’t give now for a light of some kind! She paused a moment, considering, then felt around under her feet until her toe struck a fair-sized rock. She bent down and hefted it, found it was about the right size for her needs, then focused her Weapons-Magic. What better weapon against the darkness than light? And the rock began to glow from within, illuminating the chamber with a white brilliance that dazzled her eyes at first, after the darkness. When her vision cleared, she nearly dropped the rock at the sight of the five manacled skeletons that lined the wall on her right side. A rat poked its nose out of an otherwise empty eye socket, and snakes crawled around the shins and arms of the shackled figures.

  Then, beyond the skeletons, she saw the glint of eyes, watching her. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled, and her every muscle stiffened. Swallowing hard, she grabbed a long bone that had fallen to the floor of the cave and transformed it into a gladius. “Who’s there?” she asked.

  A sharp hissing answered her. A snake? What kind of–?

  “Goddess!” she cried, nearly dropping the sword as a rat the size of a lion emerged into the light. It snarled, revealing teeth like swords. Hooked claws seemed to leap from its forepaws.

  A chill raced down Mikhaila’s spine. All the primeval fears of rats and monsters raced through her. Uncle Luc had once been bitten on the hand by a rat, Mama had told her, a rat that only let go after they’d killed it.

  She swallowed and backed away. The rat followed. Courage isn’t the absence of fear, Fehtan said. It’s when you don’t let that fear cloud your thinking. As she backed away, she noticed the rat’s nose and ears twitching, but there seemed no movement in its eyes. It lives here in the dark. And I come in with this light. I wonder…she poured a little more of the Magic into the rock, brightening the glare, and saw the rat’s eyes begin to blink and water. So it was sniffing and listening for her, rather than using its sight! Eyeing her surroundings, she silently slipped to her right. The monster’s ears twitched, but it did not follow her movement. It crept closer. She remained where she stood until the creature’s eye was nearly opposite her. Then she leapt, swordpoint first, jabbing straight into the rat’s exposed left eye. It roared and lashed out with its claws, which raked Mikhaila’s arm, forcing her to drop the sword, which reverted to a bone. The intrepid Aurigan shifted toward the thing’s blinded left side. Her arm bled where the rat’s claws had torn it; only Fehtan’s mercy had saved her from losing the arm. But she had damaged the rat, too, more than she’d realized, for its right front paw hung limp and useless. Now she heard the creature’s heavy, labored breathing. It may be dying, she thought. But wounded animals were the most dangerous.

  The rat growled again, and pushed off its left legs toward her, snapping. Mikhaila’s agility kept her from falling prey to the beast. The change in position put her within reach of another bone. But her wounded right arm would not obey her, so she would have to set down the rock she’d been using for light if she was to reach for the bone.

  But then she caught a faint glimmer of light at the end of the cave, beyond the rat.

  Without a moment’s hesitation, she dropped the rock and grabbed the bone with her left hand in the same movement, transforming it into a torch. She jabbed at the rat, forcing it away from her, then raced around the huge form toward the source of the light. As she ran, the light seemed to grow no larger, however, and she wondered if it were not merely another malevolent trick of Hærne. Behind her, she could hear the roaring, growling rat dragging its huge body on two legs.

  Finally, though, she saw that she was indeed approaching the mouth of the cave, and that the passage narrowed the closer to the surface it led.

  Then she stumbled over a crevice in the cave floor. The rat closed in. Mikhaila smelled its blood, heard the growls from its throat, saw its laboring effort to haul itself after her. She scrambled to her feet, dizzy from the fall, narrowly missing the bite of the rat’s teeth. The girl was sure she could not continue further, wounded and exhausted as she was, but she dragged herself on, certain that at any moment she would fall prey to the giant beast.

  And then the rat was no longer behind her. It had wedged itself into the narrow passage, unable to pursue further or turn back. With a sigh of relief, she clambered free of the cave and collapsed onto the soft grass of a meadow, Hærne behind her, looming like a nightmare, yet powerless to harm her further.

  She dragged herself to her feet. The camp! She must find the Aurigan camp and tell them where the Raheshis were! She looked to her left, saw the sun rising over the snow-covered peak of Mount Kjamrha, the highest of the Sassaine Mountains. At least I didn’t end up in Rahesh, she thought.

  To find her comrades, she must venture into Hærne again.

  She turned north, keeping the sun on her right, and began her trek, paralleling the forest for as long as possible. If she could find the place where they’d entered, she knew she could find the Aurigans.

  For defense, she found a fallen branch to transform into a sword again. Before long, she encountered a stream, and she took a moment to scoop some water into her mouth. But cleaning her wound would have to wait until…

  A twig snapped. She spun, sword at the ready.

  “You look like hell, Blockhead.” It was Corporal Beorn, alone. She snapped to attention and tried to salute, but could not raise her right arm. “We thought you ran away.”

  “No, Corporal,” she answered. “But I did find the Raheshi camp.”

  Beorn lifted an eyebrow. “Did you now?” he said. “And could you show your comrades where this camp might be?”

  She thought a moment, wondering if she could find the dry stream bed again without leading her fellows through the cave. “I believe I could,” she said. “I got a good look at it. See, they–”

  “They captured you,” Beorn finished. He gave a whistle, and a man in the uniform of a Raheshi sergeant stepped from the forest. “Sergeant Nijl, is this the Aurigan you captured?”

  “Yes, sir,” came the voice she remembered from captivity.

  “We’ll have to make certain she doesn’t warn her comrades, now, won’t we?” Beorn said. “Do you think you can hold onto her this time?”

  Beorne reached for the sword Mikhaila still held, but the Aurigan girl charged, knocking him off his feet as she had the Raheshi from the night before. Damn them, they are not going to make me a slave! was her furious thought.

  Unlike last night’s foe, however, Beorn was more sturdily built, so Mikhaila’s charge only knocked him down and did not disable him. He leapt to his feet as Sergeant Nijl approached, and each foe seized one of Mikhaila’s arms. The Aurigan girl cried out from the pain in her wounded right arm, but she struggled nonetheless, planting her feet and exerting pressure so her enemies could not capitalize on t
heir grip. With all her strength, Mikhaila pulled, and Nijl lost his footing and his grip on her, which left her free to focus her magic on Beorn, turning him into a ball of flame that quickly flickered and died. But when she turned to face Nijl, she found herself staring down a dirk.

  “I should–”

  Suddenly an arrow quivered in Nijl’s neck. Amid a gout of blood, he gave a gurgling noise and collapsed.

  Mikhaila turned, and there stood Kester, lowering a bow that was almost as tall as he was.

  “You took your own sweet time finding me,” she said.

  A young man’s life can change in one day, once he learns what he can, and cannot, do.

  THE POWER

  Nathan Hystad

  Grand Master Haz closed his eyes and everything went silent. The birds stopped chirping, the villagers stopped talking, and the wind even stopped howling - all for a moment.

  Power thrummed from his finger-tips as he pointed them at the four candidates standing on display. Tal felt his pulse quicken as the fingers passed by him; the grizzled mage didn’t give him so much as a glance. Karry, beside him, stood tall and proud as the Mage’s hand glowed blue, the power spreading over her body. She twitched and convulsed as she lifted from the ground. As if a string holding her snapped, she fell to the ground with a thump. Tal moved to help her but the Grand Master shook his head in a warning. He stood firm, worrying his friend had been hurt, but knowing she’d be alright…they always were.

  The Mage strode in front of them, and each of Tal’s other companions fell to the ground in heaps as the magic raged through them. Tal worried as Haz stood before him, hand blazing blue. Would he find out he could throw fireballs? Or would he have a more functional Power unleashed? Maybe he would be able to make water from air! That would help his family and their farmer neighbors bring in great crops.