Dryad-Born (Whispers from Mirrowen #2)

Nizeera growled again and Annon stroked her head, summoning his courage. He motioned for Khiara to float up into the trees, which she promptly did after taking in a deep breath. Lukias unsheathed his dagger and stood at Annon’s left, arms folded, his face impassive but not fearful. Erasmus vanished behind them into the thicket. Pyricanthas. Sericanthas. Thas. Annon’s hands began to glow.

The Boeotians slowed and entered the grove at a prowl, spears held low. There were no battle cries or warning. Their shapes flitted through the gaps of the trees, advancing on them in a wave. Annon tried to count the number of shapes and quickly abandoned it. There were at least twenty. He remembered how aggressive and cruel they were. Perhaps fire would frighten them. If not, he knew they’d be unleashing spears quickly. There was no reasoning with such men.

He recalled words that the other Boeotians had spoken. His memory was perfect now and he could summon the images by only thinking about them. Perhaps challenging them in their own tongue would surprise them.

“Atu! Atu vast!” Annon roared. Then he ran at them, bringing up his hands and unleashing his magic. The Boeotians were fighters. Annon did not think for a moment he could reason with them or talk his way out of a fight. The best thing to do was do something unexpected. Attack them first, make them feel that they had been drawn into a trap. Paedrin had called it the Uddhava.

Flames blasted through the woods, sending blooms of light to expose those he was attacking. He recognized the tattooed skin, the muscled arms and spears. His sudden attack caught them completely by surprise. Lukias shouted in fury and ran after him and Nizeera let out a feline scream that made even Annon quail.

Several Boeotians were caught in the initial blast of flame and went down, skin burning. Annon summoned a gob of fire in his hand and hurled it at another group. It streaked through the woods, blinding them with its brilliance and exploded into a tree, showering sparks as it struck. Boeotians dived away from him, unable to bring their spears up to throw. Nizeera vaulted into the nearest cluster of men, claws raking and teeth snapping viciously. Annon continued to charge, sending another sheet of flames into the next group. Fire began to lick the dried scrub at the base of the trees. Emotions swirled inside of Annon, feeding him with power and anger. Euphoria replaced the fear. At the fringe of the euphoria was madness.

Khiara dropped from the trees, landing amidst a group of Boeotians who were coming at Annon from the side. The copse was too dense for her to use her long tapered staff effectively. Annon glanced and saw her drop it and start using her fists and feet to cripple and break her opponents in the Bhikhu way. Lukias rushed up to the nearest Boeotian, dodging a thrust from his spear and threw his knife with deadly aim.

Several of the Boeotians started running for their lives. Annon saw more regrouping to press the attack again. They held smoking sticks in their hands, creating a haze of smoke around them. They were cursing and raging in their language, shaking their spears. If he could douse the flames somehow, he could summon spirit creatures to aid them. Annon focused on the burning brands and felt part of him connect with the smoking embers. He sensed the flickering tongues and fire, experiencing a kinship with it. They would pay homage to him. Muttering the Vaettir words in his mind, Annon tamed the fire in the brands. The smoke stopped.

Now! Annon beckoned to the spirits that were holding back, afraid of the smoke. Nizeera turned her bloody muzzle up, sensing the change in the air. She screamed again, launching herself at another cluster of men, savaging them with her claws. Annon’s elation grew.

The Boeotians crumpled when the spirits began darting amidst them, stinging with magic and exploding in their midst with painful shocks and blinding light. The Boeotians roared with pain and fled the copse, sprinting away from the scene with haste.

Lingering in the air nearby, he sensed the presence of fell spirits.

We see you, Druidecht.

We know you, Druidecht.

Tasvir Virk will come for you. You are hunted still.

The thoughts fluttered against his mind and then they were gone.

The thoughts caused a chill to seep into Annon’s bones, despite the flames dancing on his hands. He looked down and saw that he was standing amidst crackling flames that did not harm him. The woods were ablaze around him. He stared at the yellow licking tongues, hungering for the power contained inside them. He wanted the whole world to burn. He wondered, deep down, if he had the power to make it happen. Thoughts flooded his mind, seductive and yearning. Unleash the flames to their full potential. Let their true nature manifest itself at last.