Wolf soldier, p.15
Wolf Soldier, page 15
part #1 of Lightraider Academy Series
A series of clinks and clangs echoed across the fortress, followed by a pained cry and a fading stream of grumbles.
“Master Belen again.” Teegan looked toward the tower workshop. “He may be hurt. Should we go and help?”
“Too late.” Lee flattened himself beside the hatch. “Someone’s coming.”
Yellow light grew in the dark space. The guardians had arrived.
The trio lay on their stomachs and peered down through the hatch.
Quinton lit a second lantern and hung it on a hook near the steps. “What news from Pedrig?”
Teegan whispered in Connor’s ear. “Your patehpa’s wolf.”
He nodded. The pieces fit. Lee had spotted a creature with gray fur in the grotto, and a battled-hardened wolf would make the perfect messenger to run between Keledev and Tanelethar. The Assembly’s order forbidding Keledan from crossing the barrier said nothing of the Havarra.
A light crick sounded from Lee’s chalk, then another. A hairline crack spread through the white stick. Tiny flecks of dust fell into the chamber. “Uh oh,” Lee whispered.
The chalk split. Connor shoved his fingers into the gap to stop the hatch from crashing down. He managed to pinch off most of the cry in his throat, but not all.
Master Jairun’s voice rose from below. “I heard you up there.”
“All o’ Ras Telesar heard,” Quinton added. “An’ Mer Nimbar. An’ Glimwick down in Ravencrest, I’ll warrant.”
Teegan and Lee pried up the stone as Connor inspected his throbbing fingers for broken bones. The three shared a look and eased forward to peer down into the room.
But none of the guardians were looking their way. Master Jairun shook his head at Belen, who had just arrived. “You’re late again, Pavel. Did one of your contraptions go awry?”
Belen collapsed into a padded leather chair and removed a copper band and candle holder from his forehead, complete with a broken candle. “I tripped, if you must know. And then I had to make my way down in the dark.” He accepted a copper mug from Quinton and took a sip. “You both know quiet movement was never my best skill.”
The swordmaster frowned at him. “Stealth, Pavel. I told ya we’re callin’ it stealth from this class onward. A new start is a good time ta let a few o’ the old traditions go.” He turned to Master Jairun. “So, now that we’re all here, I’ll ask again. What news from the wolf?”
“None, I’m afraid.” Master Jairun laid his hands on the table. “I’ve heard nothing this week. He’s overdue. But that is not so unusual considering all we’ve asked him and his friend to investigate—the powder, the hollow hills, the new castle.”
Connor inched back from the hatch. Pedrig was late. Master Jairun had told him he didn’t know where the wolf might be. So the headmaster hadn’t lied. Teegan urgently poked his arm, and he pulled himself up to the edge again.
The guardians had asked the Rescuer for the map. Mists swirled along the glossy green surface. Connor could hardly see through the icy clouds topping the Celestial Peaks, but something—something big and dark—sailed low over the trees in their foothills.
Lee lowered one of his lenses and sucked in a breath. “A dragon.”
Master Jairun gestured at the creature. “That was the main thrust of the last message we received.”
“The dragon arrived last week, as we know.” Quinton poured himself a cup from the copper kettle. “An’ with Pedrig late or missin’, I say we assume the worst. That beast raised hisself an army of dark creatures and barkhides in the borderlands, and now he’s come to command them.”
Master Jairun looked hard at the swordmaster. “One dragon building an army is not unusual, my friend. What concerns me is what he plans to do with that army. We’ve seen dark creatures as close as Mer Nimbar, remember? If the wyrms have uncovered a hollow hill with an unstable exit on our side of the barrier, then the mind of a dragon may steer it with terrible accuracy.”
“And widen it,” Belen added. “I’ve been studying all we know about the portals of old. The great wyrms possess the ability to grow them temporarily—sending whole platoons of orcs through in a single push. A strong wyrm may even have the power to pass through a hollow hill itself. Though I can’t see how the Rescuer would allow it.”
“A dragon in Keledev”—Quinton thumped his cup down—“leading an army of orcs an’ goblins. The Assembly must hear o’ this, Avner, whether they want to or not. An’ it’s high time we tell the initiates too.”
“There’s no need to tell them.”
“And why not, pray tell?”
“Our pupils already know. Well, three of them do.” He thrust his staff upward, knocking the stone hatch out of the way.
The guardians stared up at the trio.
Connor and Teegan dropped their faces into their hands.
Lee offered a withered wave. “Hello, sirs. Lovely night isn’t it?”
41
By the High One’s grace, Resteram followed the student’s ill-fated snooping. Master Jairun thought it best for all concerned if the guardians waited until after morning worship to administer judgment. The initiates were to leave their clunkers at the barracks. Combat training had been cancelled, leaving Quinton plenty of voice to roar at the three when they met the guardians in the headmaster’s chambers.
“Sneaking about the fortress? Eavesdropping? The lightraiders are a military order. We have rules. Structure. When you lot are meant to know something, yer superiors’ll tell ya!”
It did not help Quinton’s mood when Lee raised a sleeve to wipe spittle from his lenses.
“And yet,” Master Jairun said, turning to the irate guardian, “a military order values initiative. Times are strange, Angus. Dark creatures have entered the land. Our faith in one another is shaken. They saw something out of place and sought a solution.” His eyes shifted to the initiates. “Which does not justify their choices. But it does give cause for leniency.”
Belen came up with the final punishment. “If these three have enough vigor left at day’s end to go wandering about the fortress at night—a precarious pastime, I can tell you—then I’d say they have enough vigor left to clean it. After combat training. Before baths. One hallway per night.”
“The others too,” Quinton said with a growl. “A class of initiates lives and dies together. That is the lightraider way.”
After the meeting, Connor and Lee sat in their favorite spot on the fourth wall, shrinking under the glares of both Tiran and Dag. Tiran crossed his arms upon learning of the new cleaning duties. “I’ll think of you both fondly with each sweep of my broom. And my shessa. You can bet all three of you will feel my fondness when next we spar.”
Dag looked more upset than Connor had ever seen him. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
“We were going to.” Connor met the miner’s hurt gaze. “Honest. But we wanted to learn more first.”
This seemed to quell Dag’s anger but not Tiran’s. “Seriously? That’s all you have to say?” He stormed off, giving them no chance to reply.
Dag ambled off after him, and Connor turned to Lee. “Where is Teegan? Shouldn’t she have been here to take the brunt of Tiran’s ire?”
Lee let his feet dangle over the bulwark. “None of this was her idea, remember? And she took Master Quinton’s scolding hard. I think she went off with Aethia to hunt.” He looked through his lens down the glade’s white road to the place where the steps descended the cliff to the switchbacks and the Forest of Believing. “Yes. There she is. She’s been flying Aethia from the top of the stairs ever since the snows came to the forest.”
To Connor, Teegan was little more than a smudge of dark green against the white gravel. He could not have hoped to see the falcon.
“The Forest of Believing,” Lee said, twisting his ring. “Huh.” He produced a piece of chalk from his satchel and drew a map on the parapet between them. “According to Master Jairun, dragons can steer the exit of an unstable portal.”
“Yes . . .”
“And if a dragon can steer one through the barrier, we have to presume it can steer it anywhere in our land. So, my friend, why Dayspring? Why Mer Nimbar?”
To Connor’s dismay, one of Lee’s map labels read Enarian Farm. He swallowed. “What are you saying?”
Lee drew a circle at the farm. He then drew a circle near the label Mer Nimbar. “I don’t think these are random. In our studies, Master Belen told us dragons sometimes look through the eyes of their dark creature servants. What if he saw where each group landed?”
“The dragon isn’t just steering the portal.” Connor grabbed the chalk from Lee’s fingers. “He’s dialing it in like a catapult.” He drew an arrow through the two circles. It pointed north, straight at the third location Lee had labeled. Connor circled that one as well. “Ras Telesar. The dragon is steering the portal here. And if it misses again, the creatures will land—”
“In the Forest of Believing.”
They stared across the glade toward the top of the stairs. No matter how he tried, Connor could no longer make out the dark green blur he’d seen before.
Lee lowered a lens in front of his eye, and then another. He gripped Connor’s arm. “Teegan is gone.”
42
A terrible scream reached the ramparts from across the glade.
Connor dropped from the battlements, landing in a crouch on the balcony below. “I’m going after her. Raise the alarm.”
“But you have no weapon.”
“I have my sling. Get going!”
A shortcut through an empty chamber, two flights of broken steps, and a long leap brought Connor to the second level, where the maze stopped him. He ran back and forth on the battlements, searching for a path onward. He couldn’t jump all the way down to the gate courtyard. Could he?
Another scream. Teegan appeared at the top of the steps. From the closer wall, he could see her dress was torn at the shoulder, her bare arm red with blood. A goblin scrambled onto the white road behind her, grasping at her heels.
“Teegan, look out!”
Even as Connor shouted, a white flash streaked from the heights and smashed into the goblin’s helmet, knocking the creature off its feet.
Aethia let out a screech, wheeling upward for another pass, and for a moment, he thought the falcon had bought her mistress enough time to make the gate.
Then a ragged bolt of black and purple ripped the air between Teegan and the fortress. Black smoke drifted away, leaving a huge creature with skin the texture of iron ore standing on the road, blocking her path.
Teegan veered away, and the creature did not give chase. Perhaps it had not seen her. An arrow plinked off its helmet, and it turned to face the fortress, letting out a terrible roar.
Looking back, Connor saw Lee aim his longbow from the barrack’s balcony, a snub-nosed practice arrow on the string. Dag stood beside him with Connor’s leather-bound sparring staff, gripping it like a javelin.
The miner shouted down to him. “This is all we’ve got. Catch!” He hurled the staff, but put too much power into the throw. It sailed over Connor’s head, out of reach.
Without considering the consequences, Connor leapt after it, out into the empty air above the courtyard. He caught the staff in midair and clung to it, with the black rectangular pool in the gate courtyard rushing up to meet him. Dear Rescuer, let it be deep enough.
He knew it wasn’t. He’d seen Tiran fall in on the first day. The water had only come up to his waist.
Protect me if you will. I know you can. Let me live to serve you.
He splashed through the surface and slammed into the bottom.
Yet Connor felt no pain. He sensed a silvery glow all around him. Then the current took him, and darkness closed in.
Not until his head broke the water’s surface, out in the glade’s cold light, did Connor know for sure the fall hadn’t killed him. The current had carried him through the culvert. On he went, fighting to keep his head above water, through the outer pool and into the River Gathering that flowed across the glade toward the cataracts.
On the road, the big creature swiped at Lee’s practice arrows, bellowing in frustration. Jumbles of sticklike runes glowed orange on its legs, arms, and face. Farther down, near the head of the cataracts, not one but three armored goblins closed in on Teegan. Connor fixed his sights on the nearest and swept up a couple of stones from the riverbed, shoving them into his pouch.
The current picked up speed, driving him toward the falls. After a long breath, he planted the tip of his staff in the rocks and pushed with all his might to launch himself out onto the bank. Momentum carried him across the frosted grass, sliding feetfirst into the goblin’s legs.
The creature squealed and hit the ground. Its helmet rolled away. But it recovered fast and came after him.
For all his training and effort, Connor wound up in the position he feared most—on his back with a goblin on top, knife raised, just like Tehpa. The knife came stabbing down. Connor threw an arm across his face, praying in his heart for the Rescuer’s help.
I live to serve you. I live by your grace.
A silver shield, strong and wide, deflected the blade, and it dug into the sod. Connor shoved the goblin off, seated a stone in his sling, and loosed at close range, earning an ugly crack from its brittleknit skull. The creature fell lifeless to the grass.
“Connor, help!”
He yanked the goblin’s knife from the earth and spun around, stunned by what he saw. Armor, translucent and shimmering sea green, covered Teegan’s entire form. She held off a relentless double attack with a glowing shield.
But her strength was fading.
The two remaining goblins sliced and hacked at the shield in a rasping, snarling frenzy, pressing her down the riverbank. Fighting for breathing room, Teegan punched one of her enemies in the face. A shower of sparks flew from her pale green gauntlet. The goblin reeled backward, and she shouted at Connor, “Weapon, please!”
“Right. Sorry!” Connor tossed her the knife, hilt first.
Teegan caught it and shoved the blade straight through her translucent shield into the nearer goblin’s chest. The creature teetered toward Connor, who whacked it into the water with his staff. The river carried it screaming over the cataracts.
The goblin Teegan had punched recovered, shaking its head, and took one menacing step before a feathered shaft sprouted from its left eye. A joyous shout drifted down from the fortress. Lee had found some real arrows and put the features of his spectacles to use.
Connor nearly laughed out loud, glancing over his shoulder to call out his thanks, but found the fortress obscured by an orange-and-black creature, getting larger fast.
Resounding pain smashed through his body. Then he was airborne, flying along the stream bank. Connor crashed down beside Teegan. He’d forgotten about the orc.
The monster’s chest heaved. Arrows protruded from its right arm and left leg, charred and smoking. Another arrow clanked off its helmet, and the runes carved into its skin flared. It faced the fortress, lifted a scimitar above its head, and roared.
Connor leaned to one side and shouted up at Lee. “You’re just making it angry!”
The orc’s attention focused again on Connor and Teegan. They raised their shields together, cringing as the creature swung its blade. But to Connor’s surprise the scimitar bounced away. There’d been no power or strength behind the blow.
The orc toppled forward with two double-bladed axes embedded in the thick hide at its back. Connor recognized the weapons from his first night at the fortress and looked up.
Quinton waved from the gatekeeper’s passage, an arm around Dag. A few yards away, across the outer pool, Master Jairun drew his sword from the body of a second orc.
Dag grinned wide. “You were right. Lee’s arrows were making the creature angry, so Master Quinton and I sent his axes to simmer it down.”
Tiran had gained a victory as well—two, in fact. A pair of goblins Connor had not noticed before lay dead at the end of the bridge, black blood leaking onto the grass.
Master Jairun surveyed the lawn-turned-battlefield. “Not since the days our beloved Blacksmith walked this glade have dark creatures fallen here. It is high time for real action.”
43
Master Jairun led the five students and the other two guardians across the western lists to the long gray house. Connor had always known there must be treasures inside. Most doors at Ras Telesar were wood, but the doors of the gray house were stone, banded with iron, and twice as tall as Master Quinton.
After the battle, Master Jairun had treated Teegan’s wounds, allowing Lee to pray over them with sacred words, a privilege Connor had still not been granted. And then the headmaster had brought the full company up to the lists. “This is the day you trade those leather-bound clunkers for bare steel.”
When they reached the doors, Quinton tugged at a chain around his neck and lifted a huge quartz key from beneath his tunic. He slid it into the lock and pulled open the door. “Arms Day, m’lass an’ lads—third best day behind Forge and The Rising. Toss yer clunkers in the bins on the left, then gather at the central table.”
A bronze shield hung on the wall above the bins, depicting what Connor assumed to be lightraiders sparring on the lists. There were many such shields on the chamber walls—gold, silver, copper, and bronze, embossed with swordsmen, archers, and the like. Oaken racks stood between them, loaded with weapons.
“Welcome, young sir.” Belen patted Connor on the back as they entered. “Welcome to the lightraider armory.”
The students joined the guardians at a table near the center of the space. The weapons lying upon it matched those the students had chosen. Master Jairun lifted the ebony crook and Faelin’s sword. “There is no better staff or sword I can offer you, Connor. May these serve you well, as the sword served your grandfather.”
