Mistaken Saga: Chapter Three

Chapter Three

The chill of the stone floor was a sharp contrast to the heat moving through Dalia. For over a day the fire had consumed her. Through the blur of her memories she wished a thousand deaths on the wizard that had commanded the magic that did this to her. She longed for Sands and his clumsy magic speak. Surely he could ease this burning.

Outside her tiny cell Dalia heard soldiers move back and forth. These Black Guards, as they called themselves, were mere men seeking something she couldn’t freely hand over. Through the haze of the burning, she managed to piece some of it together. The only reason they were keeping her alive was for the shard. Commander Wulfson wanted the pleasure of killing her and taking the cursed thing for himself. He was still more than a day away and so she lived.

It was in that haze of heat that Dalia finally lost track of time. Between the fire blazing in her blood, the chill of death wrapped around her arm and the harsh cold floor, she was lost. In the brief moments of sanity she knew if the commander walked in then she would beg for death. Her eyes stayed trained on the door and any salvation that it would bring.

As it was rescue came from behind.

Slowly the quiet tink against the wooden window frame separated from the thundering of her heartbeat. Dalia could barely force herself to roll. The frozen stone under her fed the fire under her skin as she turned to the darkness beyond the window. 

A flash of color shifted, but Dalia couldn’t tell what it was. Beside her a swirl of soft white light brought Aline into the cell. Kneeling down, golden silk spreading across the hateful stone, the djinn reached a hand to her shoulder. “We’re gonna get you out of here, Dal.”

Dalia blinked and Sands was there next. He let out a long slow breath and Aline’s mouth fell into a hard line. “Why is she so hot?”

Sands brushed his fingertips over Dalia’s cheek, sending a shot of fire racing down her spine. “It’s magic.”

“Fix it.”

Blue eyes stared down at Dalia. Outlined in the raging red that had overtaken her vision, she saw the sadness and the shake of his head. “I don’t know the words.”

Desperation took over and Dalia closed her eyes. Her fate was sealed and she didn’t have the will to claw it back into her control. Above her Sands and Aline talked.

“Learn it,” Aline hissed.

“I can’t just learn it. That’s not how it works,” Sands explained. A deep guilt lined his harsh words and Dalia wondered if her urge to laugh was brought on by the insanity or the bitterness that clung in the air.

“The wizard that did it, can he stop it?” Aline demanded. 

Dalia could hear them moving around her. Sands trying to explain and Aline clearly refusing to accept it. “Yes, but he’s not just going to walk in here and do… Aline, where are you going?” 

“I’ll drag him in here if I have to.” Aline’s words were harsh and bit into the air with determination.

The slamming of the door was the only thing Dalia heard as Aline vanished from the cell. “She’s going to get us killed,” Sands said, returning his attention to her. “We’ll figure this out, Dal. One way or another.” Then he was gone too and she was left alone again.

Dalia tightened her hands around her arms and squeezed her eyes shut against the pain. She focused on taking in a breath and letting it out. There was nothing she could do to keep her heart beating, but she could make herself breath and that was better than screaming out in pain.

Rough humid air in. A loud thud and a shout came from outside the room. 

Hot, sour air out. Sands called out a jumble of magic words.

The door slammed open and Dalia wrenched her eyes open, ready to beg for death. Aline stormed in, dragging the old wizard behind her. The tiny cell was suddenly crowded as Sands followed and pressed his body into the door. “Keep his mouth shut,” he ordered as the djinn pulled the wizard to Dalia’s side.

“Fix her,” Aline commanded, forcing the old man onto his knees. 

A loud bang bounced Sands on the wooden door. “Wait. He could make it worse,” he warned. “Sooth.” For the first time Dalia noticed his eyes when he used the magic words. The intent look was sharp and clearly aimed at the bearded wizard. “Now.”

Aline jerked the wizard’s robe and said, “Fix her.”

His eyes were screwed shut as he fought against the order, but finally he spat out, “Trepash.”

Instantly the burning eased and a cool breeze washed over Dalia. Every muscle in her body flexed and eased. Finally she sucked in a breath that didn’t set her lungs ablaze and she realized Sands was still at the door. Aline stood above her as she sat up and locked eyes on the old man. Narrowing her eyes, she threw out her fist. When the punch made contact she felt the satisfying crunch of the man’s nose. 

Shaking her hand, Dalia rushed up to her feet and spat on the ground beside the wizard. The magic flames had been doused, but a new type of boiling took over. Angry, she was only stopped from kicking the man by the explosion behind her. 

The door splintered and flew into the room. Dalia reached out for Aline, trying to protect her from the blast. It didn’t have enough power to knock either woman to the floor, but Sands let out a yell as he was knocked away from the door. 

Dalia turned, ready to take on the soldiers that were sure to start storming the little room. Light flooded in and for the first time she realized she wasn’t in a cell, but a storage room. Sanderwise lay sprawled against a low bench holding up baskets of root plants. His hand was pressing tight against his side and she could make out the dark wetness spreading over his dark over shirt. When the first armored soldier rushed in she had to turn away from his struggle and face the threat. 

Without a weapon Dalia was limited in her defense, but the soldier was clumsy in the small space. She dodged one way and Aline the other. In a flash the djinn had out her tinged blue blade and drew the man’s attention. A second soldier stood in the doorway, blocking their escape. With his hand on this hilt of his blade, ready to step in should the other fail, the man stared intently at the fight. 

Being ignored, Dalia reached back for the heaviest hardest thing she could find. Rocks almost the size of her fist were separating a spread of onions. Grabbing one up, she threw it at the man in the door. Without his helmet the rock crashing into his temple and sent his staggering back a few steps before he crumpled to the ground. 

Dalia took the opening to rush to Sanderwise’s side. Hefting him up, she slung her arm around his waist. Feeling the stickiness of blood, she started leading him towards the unguarded door. She could hear Aline’s sword clashing with the soldier’s and stayed close to the wall as she made her way around. 

Sands draped his arm over her shoulder, fingers gripping the cloth of her vest. “There’s more,” he warned, even as the large shadow of another man filled the door frame. Pausing, Dalia gulped and glanced back at Aline. She was winning, but not fast enough. 

The door was filled and this soldier already had his blade out and had his gaze trained on Dalia and Sands. As he stepped forward, blade swinging through the air, Sands shifted. His chest bumped into Dalia’s and his other arm went around her, holding her tight. 

“Juntulanbe.”

The world popped as Dalia watching the broadsword swipe downwards and she knew the fear trembling in her belly showed through her eyes. 

***

They popped and fell to their knees in the middle of the woods. There was no clearing or campsite. This was a place Dalia had never seen. They toppled over and she was trapped under Sands’s weight. Struggling to move him to her side, she said, “You gotta move, Sands. I can’t help you like this,” she said, hoping he hadn’t lost consciousness. A groan and shifting proved he was still aware, but there was no telling how long that would last. 

After a rough few seconds Dalia ended up inspecting a wound low on Sanderwise’s abdomen. She covered it with her hand to slow the bleeding and finally felt the thick chunk of wood that had caused it. Puling his shirt away to get a closer look, she asked, “You know a word to heal this?” 

“No,” Sands answered weakly. 

Only the tip was left out of his flesh and Dalia took in a sharp breath at the sight of the angry red gash. Fingering it, she knew the wood had to come out and was glad when it proved not to be too long. “Take a breath and hold it,” she ordered, getting her fingers around the chunk. 

Steadying herself, Dalia jerked it out and Sands let out a scream. His hands reached out to cover the injury. A fresh bought of blood came forth and she ripped her own vest off to press against it. The wood would have led to infection, but out he had a chance. An open wound the size of her inner palm could be healed, somehow.

As if fate knew Dalia needed help, Aline appeared in her swirl of magic and dropped to her knees beside them. “Dalia! You’re okay.”

Dalia nodded and tried to smile at her friend, but she barely managed. “Sands was hurt. I need your help.”

Quick to understand, Aline asked, “What does he need?”

“Bandages and I need to get him somewhere fast,” Dalia explained, praying the djinn could help her get the bleeding to stop.

Sands covered her hand in his and he shook his head. “The temple.”

Gritting her teeth, Dalia shot her eyes back at the man. His own jaw was locked with pain. “You need help now.”

“The priests can help,” Sands answered. His hands pressed against hers and she could feel the pressure he was putting on his own wound. It would take a lot more than pressure to keep him from bleeding out before they found the Temple of Life.

Beside them, Aline already hand a thick roll of white bandages in her hands, but she agreed with Sands. “He’s right, Dal. We can bandage him up, but he needs more help than that. The temple is just half a day from here.”

“They’ll be after us soon and we’re not far from them,” Sands warned.

Stilling her trembling belly, Dalia nodded. She was outvoted, but she’d find a way to stop the bleeding first. Without meeting Aline’s stare, she said, “Alright. Aline, I need bandages and hot iron.”

Sands let his head drop back against the ground and accepted his fate quietly and Aline, grim faced, did what was asked of her. She even brought water. Taking the iron rod, Dalia only glanced at the glowing red tip for a second while the djinn poured the water and cleared the blood. “Hold his arms,” she instructed.

As soon as Aline was in place, Dalia put the iron to Sands’s flesh and watched the flesh sear. The smell nearly choked her, but she held it there until she was sure it was closed. Her new friend tried to thrash, but with her nearly sitting on his thighs, and Aline pressing down on his shoulders, there was no escape. Pulling the iron away, she tossed it to the side and was quick to clear what she could. She was surprised he hadn’t screamed, but thankful he was able to keep it in. 

If the soldiers hadn’t heard Sanderwise’s scream the first time, they defiantly would have heard the second.

Finally, Dalia looked up and nodded at Aline. It was time to move and the djinn understood. She stayed only long enough to help Sands to his feet and to drop a quick kiss on each of their cheeks. “Be safe and keep going.” Then she was gone.

Pulling Sanderwise’s arm up over her shoulders and wrapping her arm around his waist, Dalia let out a grunt as she stood. The man had some heft to him. Well-toned muscle was just as heavy as the flab of laziness. “South east. At least they drug us closer to the temple,” she muttered to herself as she started through the forest. 

Aline had said less than half a day. Surely that meant Dalia would notice the ancient growth beginning to mingle with the new growth of the forest. It was her only hope. She knew the feel of the old woods. Knew it like her soul knew the draining of the shard. Carrying Sands along the way, his feet barely able to move along with her, she knew finding the temple was their best bet. 

The priests there couldn’t turn away an injured man being drug along by the new bearer of the shard of death, could they? Dalia knew they wouldn’t and it kept her moving through the night and into the early morning. Every few hours Sands would grumble and try to shift his weight away from her, but she held him tight and grumbled right back.

When Dalia spotted the first thick trunk of ancient wood, she let out a relieved sigh. Surrounded by thin pines and oaks and hollies, the giant tree stood out like a monster in a school yard. Beyond it were more and deeper into the edge of the elvish territory they went. She could feel the pull of old earth call to her elfin half. The air seemed lighter but darker. The further they ventured the more the wind washed away the death grip the shard had on her. 

By the time Dalia saw the temple walls, guarded by massive trees all around, she was still drained, but it was the physical strain she had gotten to know over her twenty odd years of life. Only the tiniest trace of force was being wrenched from her by the pendant. 

At the gate a stout door stood closed to all outsiders. Reaching it, Dalia leaned against the stone and beat against the wood with her elbow. Sands leaned heavily on her and she could hear the harsh rattle of his strained breathing. 

“We’ve made it,” Dalia whispered to him. His only response was a grunt of gratitude.

Behind the heavy door the sound of rushed feet could be heard and Dalia waited. The clank of a door lever and the slide of sand on stone sounded. An old, hunched man appeared. His white and gold robes brushed the ground and he narrowed his elderly eyes at them. Finished waiting, Dalia asked, “Is this the Temple of Life?”

Straightening as best he could, the old man nodded. “It is and you’re safe here as long as you mean no harm.”

Sands dropped his head onto Dalia’s shoulder and his nose brushed her neck as he fell back into unconsciousness. Struggling a little, she lifted her arm and let the shard wrapped around her wrist flash to the priest. “My friend needs help and this belongs to you.”

“The High Guard is dead and he handed this to you,” the old man said, more statement than question.

Nodding and more than ready to get Sands help, Dalia said, “Yeah, he died and made me swear to take it. Now you take it and help Sands?” 

Quicker than an old man should move, the priest was by Sands’s side and took some of his weight from Dalia. “You cannot give it away, not even to me, young elf-drawf. It can only be taken from you at your death,” he explained as he began to guide them inside the temple walls.

Nearly stumbling, Dalia looked over at the old man sharply. “What?”

“We can help your friend and you’ll be safe here for now, Bearer. My temple maiden is a great healer and will have the young man back on his feet in no time.”

As they moved through the temple and an old woman showed up to relieve Dalia of her side of Sands, she found herself almost relieved and lost at the same time. They could help Sands. They knew what the shard was. Finally, she and the wizard thief could slow down and stop running. 

Falling behind the two temple attendants as they carried Sands off, Dalia stared down at the shard. She could only be rid of the thing if she died. That’s what the priest had said and she felt no doubt in his words. Even knowing her lack of human blood the priest had promised safety. Was the shard the only thing that had welcomed them inside? Or was the priest truly kind in his first words to her?

Either way, Dalia was stuck with the Shard of Death, but for now she was safe.

End Part One

 

 

 

Chapter Four coming Wednesday 3/ 25