Darkness Rising Read online

  The group stopped short of the patrolmen and dismounted. Jen caught Talon’s eye and nodded toward the farmhouse. The lanky warlord nodded and rushed over, soul-force-enhanced eyes scanning for tracks. Talon had a knack for hunting, having grown up the son of a woodsman at the edge of the Great Green. If anyone could figure out where the goblins went it was him. The patrolmen left their grisly task and walked over to the warlords.

  “Report,” Jen said.

  Two of the patrolmen looked at the third man, an older fellow with a salt-and-pepper beard and tired eyes. He cleared his throat. “We were riding our usual patrol an hour or so before midnight when we saw the glow from the fire. When we arrived the house was fully engulfed and we saw no goblins. This is the second farm attack I’ve seen so I figured it had to be the same bunch as before. I sent Mica to The Citadel and the rest of us searched for survivors.”

  He nodded toward the bodies. “Didn’t find any.”

  Jen patted him on the shoulder. “Thank you. We’ll take it from here.”

  “Get them bastards, ma’am. Don’t know how many more farmers I can tell to lock their doors at night and they’ll be fine before I throw up.”

  Jen knew just how he felt. Every time they arrived too late to save a family then failed to track down the creatures responsible she felt sick and angry, mostly angry. “We’ll get them. They can’t hide forever. Head back to town and get some rest.”

  “If it’s all the same, I think we’ll finish our patrol. Doubt I’ll get any sleep tonight anyway.”

  Jen nodded. “Whatever you think best. Thanks again.”

  Talon stood by the corner of the burning farmhouse. When she finished with the patrolmen he waved her over. When she arrived he pointed at the dirt. Short, wide prints covered the ground. She’d visited enough goblin victims to recognize their tracks. “Talk to me.”

  He pointed northeast. “They came from that way, across the farmer’s fields, and smashed down the back door. They dragged two people out here and the third ran toward the outhouse. Looks like the goblins ran that one down about halfway across the yard. They didn't haul away any loot. They came, killed, burned, and left. I can’t see much point to it.”

  “Since when do goblins need to make sense?” The others had gathered around and they chuckled at her comment. Talon had a point though. These goblins acted even stranger than usual for their insane kind. Not that it mattered to her why they did it, all she cared about was finding them and putting an end to it. “Which way?”

  “Same way they arrived, back across the fields. They didn’t make any effort to hide their tracks. It’s like they don’t care if we follow them. It’s kind of insulting.”

  They left their horses tied to an old elm a safe distance from the burning ruin. In the dark, moving across rough ground, they’d be better off on foot. Talon led the way, the others a few steps behind. They left the yard and entered a field with what Jen guessed was wheat; most of the farms around here grew wheat. She shook her head. What a stupid thing to think about.

  Focusing on the situation at hand, she used her soul force to sharpen her hearing and smell, either one of which would be more likely than her sight to warn her of an approaching enemy in the dark.

  Talon led them on, never hesitating, along the goblin trail. From her position behind him she saw the path the goblins had left as clear as the wagon ruts that led to the farmhouse. Talon was right, they didn’t seem to care if anyone followed them.

  If she was following an enemy that wasn’t obviously insane she’d fear an ambush. In this case she’d welcome it, at least they could come to blows with the goblins instead of chasing them all over the countryside.

  They arrived at the edge of a forest. It was of fair size and consisted mainly of evergreens. No one had bothered to name it since, despite its size, it was tiny compared to the Great Green.

  Talon paused a moment at the edge of the forest and crouched down for a closer look at the tracks. A couple minutes later they were on their way again, angling more east than north. For an hour they marched through thick, young evergreens. Finally they stopped at a thicket of brambles and blackberry bushes. Some of the vines had inch-long thorns.

  “What’s the problem?” Jen asked.

  “The tracks lead in there.” He pointed to some broken vines where the goblins had pushed them aside. “Gonna be a bitch forcing our way through. You want to stay on their trail or circle around and try to cut it on the opposite side?”

  “Keep on them.” There was no way she’d let the little bastards have a chance of sneaking past them now. “Our iron skin will protect us from the thorns.”

  Talon nodded and pushed his way through the brush. Jen followed a step behind. She felt the sharpness of the thorns, but when she yanked them aside they broke off on her impenetrable skin.

  Her very penetrable clothes, unfortunately, grew ever more shredded with each step. Jen grimaced and kept going. She had plenty of clothes back home. Fifteen minutes of hard slogging later Talon stopped and stared at the ground.

  “What’s wrong?” Jen stood beside him and looked where he was looking.

  “The trail ends here.”

  She studied the area, but saw nothing except brambles and thorns. Where the hell could the goblins have gone that their trail just vanished? It didn’t seem possible. “Explain.”

  He shook his head. “The trail ends. One minute it was there, now it’s not. I can’t explain it.”

  Rhys yawned. They’d been at it for hours. Jen hated to quit, but with no trail to follow she couldn’t think what to do next. She snarled at the heavens. How did they do it? Every time she thought she was close the trail vanished.

  “Let’s go back, get some food and new clothes, and head out again,” she said. Maybe her brother the sorcerer would know something. Heaven knew she needed the help.

  Chapter 17

  When Damien walked out of his room he found Dad and Lizzy already gone and Jen not back yet. He sighed. So much for a family breakfast. He found bread and jam along with milk from the icebox and fixed himself a snack. He’d finished half of it when Jen pushed the door open and trudged through, her clothes torn and her sword dragging behind her.

  “Hard fight?”

  She shook her head and tossed the sword on the couch. “We tracked them through the forest, brambles, and thickets for hours then lost them. I don’t know how they do it! It’s like magic.”

  Damien fixed her a slice of bread and jam then poured a second glass of milk. He didn’t have enough hands to carry everything over to the couch so he conjured an extra pair. Glowing, golden hands zipped Jen’s breakfast over to her.

  She flinched when the disembodied hands appeared before her, then took the food. Damien joined her and they ate together on the couch.

  “Dad would have a fit if he saw us eating on the couch,” Jen said around a mouthful of bread.

  Damien finished his breakfast. He was in too good a mood after last night to care what his father thought about him eating on the couch. “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know.” She sipped her milk. “We’ve tried everything, but we always lose them after a few miles. Can you take a look? You don’t have to fight, just help us find them.”

  “If they’re using sorcery there might be residual energy I can track. I’m not sure what the masters would say, but since this isn’t a proper mission there shouldn’t be any problem with me helping you out. When do you want to go?”

  “Right now.” She kissed his cheek, leaving a spot of sticky jam. “Let me wash up and get some new clothes. My team’s getting breakfast and we were planning on heading back out anyway.”

  “Okay. I’ll meet you in the hall.”

  Damien left Jen to get cleaned up. He locked the door behind him so no one would walk in on her and headed down the hall toward the entry.

  He didn’t bother with his sword. In a real fight a steel sword was about his weakest option. In the entry hall a couple dozen students
stood around chatting. He saw no one he knew. His class would have graduated last year and received their first assignments so it was no surprise everyone was a stranger.

  “Well, well, what are the odds?”

  Damien groaned at the familiar voice. He turned and saw Dirk and Donk coming from the general direction of the mess hall. He hadn’t expected those two idiots to be here. They were a year ahead of him and should be out on whatever assignment the military had chosen for them.

  “Dirk. What’s the matter, no one want you two in their command?”

  Donk clenched his fist, but Dirk laid a restraining hand on his shoulder. “On the contrary, we completed our third successful mission and are waiting for our next assignment. Good of you to come home and provide us a little entertainment while we wait.”

  Damien grinned. He wasn’t some scared kid looking to run this time. He was a sorcerer, with full access to all his powers. If these clowns thought they could push him around now, they were in for a surprise. “All right, let’s play that game you two liked so well. You remember, the one where I hit you as hard as I can then you hit me as hard as you can. I’ll even let you go first.”

  “Brave of you, punching bag.” Dirk balled his fist.

  “What’re you two doing?” Jen stood at the top of the stairs. She had changed into an identical outfit, this one free from rips, and carried her sword over her shoulder.

  Dirk and Donk stepped back from him. Damien looked up at Jen. “It’s okay, sis, we’re playing a game. No need to worry.”

  Damien poured power into his shield. “Don’t worry, boys, she won’t interfere. Right, Jen?”

  Jen looked at him. She wasn’t a sorcerer and couldn’t see the power surrounding him, but she must have gotten a sense of his confidence. “You sure?”

  “Absolutely.” Damien tapped his chin. “Go ahead, give it your best shot.”

  Dirk shrugged. “Your funeral.”

  He swung with all his might.

  Soul force coursed through his body as he put everything he had into it.

  Dirk’s fist hit Damien’s shield and stopped.

  He could have punched a mountain and done more damage.

  The dumbfounded Dirk pulled his fist back and stared at it like it had betrayed him.

  Damien turned to Donk. “Your turn.”

  Donk tried an uppercut to Damien’s stomach with the same results as his cousin. They looked at each other then back at Damien. It would have been comical if it wasn’t so pathetic.

  “My turn.”

  Damien shaped a golden gauntlet around his right fist, then covered his arm and shoulder in more golden armor.

  He pumped a third of his power into the construct.

  Little sparks and jagged mini-lightning bolts sparked off the armor.

  Excess power caused the floor and walls to vibrate and dust to fall from the ceiling. It seemed like the whole fortress was shaking.

  He drew his fist back.

  Dirk and Donk ran back the way they’d come as fast as their soul-force-enhanced legs could carry them. The assembled students and Jen all stared at him with wide eyes. Damien reabsorbed the power and the vibrations stopped.

  He glanced up at his sister. “Ready?”

  Chapter 18

  Damien and Jen walked out the doors together and turned toward the stables. He couldn’t stop grinning about the way Dirk and Donk had run off. That made his visit home even sweeter.

  “What would have happened if you’d hit one of those idiots with that thing you made?”

  Damien had been pretty confident the cousins would run at the sight of his construct, so he hadn’t given it much thought. “It probably would have blasted them into a fine red mist. Don’t worry, if they hadn’t run I would have pulled the power back enough to only break a few bones.”

  “You scared me half to death when you let them hit you. I guess you don’t need me to protect you anymore.”

  Damien reached out and squeezed her hand. “I’ll always need you to protect me. That’s what big sisters are for.”

  She squeezed back. “Thanks.”

  Damien winced when the familiar stink of the stables reached them. The Citadel kept fifty horses on site for the masters and students to use in their training and on missions. The stable itself was a long narrow building with an exit on either end. Four men stood beside five horses near the door. They had the horses saddled and ready to go. When they spotted Jen they snapped to attention. Good discipline, Dad would approve.

  “Guys, this is my brother, Damien. Damien, this is my squad.” She named them one after another. The tall one with the maul on his shoulder was Edward Mark. He had come to fetch Jen the night before.

  Next came Talon Wrath. He wore a pair of swords belted at his waist and had a fit, but not bulky build. Talon regarded Damien with cool, appraising eyes.

  Standing beside Talon was a grizzled, scarred veteran who looked older than Dad, named Rhys. He carried a mace in a loop on his belt and wore a shield on his back.

  Last was a whip-thin kid Damien’s age with a staff, named Alec Wright. The way he looked at Jen told Damien everything he needed to know about Mr. Wright. He’d fallen head over heels for his lovely sister.

  “Why’d you bring the kid?” Talon asked.

  “Damien just finished his training at Sorcery. He’s going to help us find the goblins.”

  “More likely he’ll slow us down,” Edward said.

  Damien hadn’t expected a warm welcome, but he figured at least they’d give him a chance. “If you guys think you can find the goblins on your own that’s fine, but so far all you’ve done is make my sister look bad.”

  Edward’s hand tightened on his maul and soul force coursed through his body. Damien sighed. None of them had enough power to concern him. He could lay them all out without breaking a sweat, but that wouldn’t help Jen deal with the goblins.

  “Kid’s got a point,” Rhys said. “I don’t fancy spending another day thrashing through the woods with my thumb up my ass. If he can find them I’m glad to have him along.”

  Jen grabbed Edward’s leather shirt and yanked his head down so his eyes were level with hers. “Damien’s coming. We’re not having a debate or a vote, clear?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Damien forced himself not to smile. She had a way of getting her point across.

  “I’ll saddle another horse,” Alec said.

  “No need.” Damien concentrated and a golden horse appeared beside him. He spent another moment turning it black to match his sister’s then leapt up into the saddle. “Ready when you are.”

  The others mounted up and Jen led the way through The Citadel’s main gate. She guided them north along a well-worn dirt road. The horses went at an easy canter and Damien matched their pace. His construct’s hooves never touched the ground, instead he glided along just above the road. It made for a smooth ride, certainly better than bouncing along on a living horse.

  He eased up beside his sister. “Where are we going?”

  “The thicket where we lost the trail.”

  “It’ll be better if we go to the site of the attack so I can track them from the beginning. If they are using sorcery they might have led you down a false trail.”

  She looked over at him. “Can you do that?”

  He nodded. “Easily. Make some fake goblins the way I did my horse, send them off through the nastiest patch of forest around, and laugh while you guys got shredded by thorns.”

  “You think that’s what happened?”

  “Maybe. Best not to take chances.”

  They reached the still-smoldering farmhouse an hour later. Blackened timbers stuck out of the basement and three shrouded bodies lay on the ground a few feet away awaiting burial. It was a mess. Damien studied the ground. Small tracks covered the soft dirt. A strange black energy swirled around the bodies; not much, more like the remnants of a casting.

  Damien had never seen the soul force of a goblin and had no idea if tha
t’s what the energy was. He circled the ruins and soon found wisps of the same power leading toward the distant woods. He guided his mount in that direction, following the wisps. When he reached the edge of the trees, thicker blobs of dark energy went left while fainter flecks went straight ahead.

  He turned to his sister. “Which way did you guys go?”

  She pointed left and Damien nodded. “They laid a false trail for you. The real path goes straight ahead, deeper into the woods.”

  “There’re no tracks that way,” Edward said. It looked like he was going to play the part of second guesser.

  “Look under my horse’s hooves. Do you see any tracks? If the goblins have a sorcerer, which it’s clear they do, then hiding their path is simple. I’m tracking the remnants of the sorcerer’s casting and it goes straight ahead.”

  “The forest is too thick for horses.” Jen swung down off her mount. “We’ll leave them and continue on foot.”

  Damien dismounted and reabsorbed the construct. While the others hobbled their horses Damien concentrated on the trail. The sorcerer must have surrounded the goblins with a shield that brushed the branches aside and let them snap back into place without breaking. That was tricky work, making a path through the thick evergreens and breaking no branches. The enemy sorcerer had skill, no doubt.

  When they’d finished tending the horses Jen said, “Lead on.”

  Damien expanded his shield so it was outside his clothes and started forward. The prickly spruce limbs made no more impression on his shield than Dirk’s punch. The little group tromped through the forest until well past noon, following the twisting trail of dark energy.

  “Look here.” Talon bent down to examine the ground. “Tracks.”

  Sure enough, as though out of nowhere, the tracks of a group of goblins appeared in the soft dirt of the forest floor. “They must have figured they were far enough away that we wouldn’t stumble over their trail.” Jen patted Talon’s shoulder.