Chapter 18

“We are too late,” muttered Opal as she stood watching the approaching menace.

A hundred or so paces separated them from the sword-wielding rook and the townsfolk, meaning Avera had to decide quickly what action to take. “Gustav won’t hurt me.” She couldn’t help sounding uncertain. It didn’t help that he stared right through her, as did a spade-wielding Josslyn by his side.

“Your soldier will most definitely harm you. They all will, as they are under Zhos’ control.”

“Not if I snap them out of the spell.” Avera held forth the amulet.

“You said it works by touch?”

Avera nodded.

“Will you touch them all before they kill you?” Sarcastic criticism that bit.

A deflated Avera chewed her lip. “It might be difficult.

“You mean impossible.” Opal snorted as the bleary-eyed army advanced. “You still have time to make it to the tunnel. They won’t follow. That tunnel still has protection from the mist, unlike the main entrance.”

Flee? And leave her friends behind? Surely there was a way to save them too.

The amulet heated in her hand, and she glanced at it. If only there was a way to expand its range.

An idea hit her. “Do you have a jug of that oil you use in your hearth?”

“Planning to light them on fire?” Opal sounded shocked.

“Of course not,” Avera exclaimed. “Quick, I have something to try.”

The jug rested just within the cave entrance and Opal emerged with the earthenware container. “There’s not much left.”

“Then we’d better hope this works,” Avera muttered as she knelt and poured a line of oil across the ledge. The thick, viscous fluid didn’t sink into the stone nor evaporate. Avera placed the amulet in the liquid and leaned back on her heels, ready to flee if it didn’t work. Her hope? That the magic of the amulet could infuse the oil, then any who touched it would be freed.

As Gustav neared with his army, the talisman began to glow, faintly at first, but strengthening the closer they drew. Opal bent to eye it with curiosity. “The magic in it is not one I’m familiar with.”

“Do you think it will work?”

“One can only pray.”

Avera eyed her trap just as Opal murmured, “The mist is rising.”

“Guess I’d better protect myself.” Avera reached to place her hand on the talisman only Opal tapped her shoulder. “No need for you to touch it. The mist has no power over you.”

Avera pointed to the glowing relic. “I thought it kept me safe.”

“It keeps others safe. Your heritage protects you. Voxspiras are immune to Zhos’ influence and tricks.”

Good to know, and while she would have liked to ask questions, there wasn’t time. Gustav halted a pace away from the line of oil and the glow imbuing it.

“It’s working,” Avera whispered. Her simple idea had stemmed the advancing bodies but did nothing to fix her friends. They stood with glazed expressions, motionless, not touching the oil.

Gustav’s head canted and his eyes rolled back in his head. His voice emerged raspy and low. “You cannot escape, spawn of Voxspira.”

Her lips parted. “Gustav?”

A rattling chuckle brought a shiver down her spine. “Foolish Queen. You should have died with the others. Alas, I am plagued with incompetents.”

“You gave Benoit the order to kill my family.”

“Hardly an order. A suggestion he gleefully accepted. The specks that litter this world are still just as greedy and stupid as before.”

“So stupid they imprisoned you,” she stated, emboldened by the fact her ruse kept it at bay.

“Silence!” The shout boomed and Avera clenched her fists lest she recoil. “Once you are dead, there will be nothing to stop my return. And this time, I won’t make the same mistake. Everyone will die.”

With that announcement, Gustav moved forward, but rather than step over the line of oil with the talisman, he stomped it! The glass shattered and Avera uttered a strangled cry and readied to flee as the bodies behind Gustav shuffled forward.

The glow from the amulet expanded despite it being broken, releasing a gas of some sort, or so it seemed, given it spread and lingered in the air. Even better, those close enough to be touched suddenly blinked as if rousing from a long sleep.

“Avera.” Gustav gaped at her then the sword in his hand. He didn’t sheath it though, most likely because the roiling mist arrived to tickle his flesh and drag him under again.

All of those who’d temporarily woken resumed their vacant-eyed stare.

The glow from the amulet dissipated and the fog rushed in to take its place. As Avera retreated, Gustav advanced with his sword held out in front of him.

Avera bumped into the wall and then jerked to the side as Gustav swung. His sword clanged as it connected with stone. She pushed off from the wall, her skin scraping on the rough surface, enough to draw blood, leaving a smear on the rock. The mist in that vicinity shrank, as if burned off by the sun.

Or more accurately, dispelled by the fluid of her wound.

Gustav swung again, and she sucked in her stomach as she took a step back, pleading, “Wake up, Gustav. You don’t want to kill me.”

Not according to his blank face and the fact his arm pulled back to once more strike.

She held up her bleeding hand in a surrender gesture, and Gustav paused, his face shifting through a myriad of emotions: horror, determination, strain, then slackness.

Opal huffed. “Your blood has the same effect as the amulet, it seems.”

“Can we use it?” Avera exclaimed, not taking her gaze from the struggling Gustav and the others who shuffled past him.

“I think so, yes, but I’ll need more than a smear.”

Avera didn’t pause to think, she drew her dagger and slashed it across her palm, opening up a gash deep enough it dripped.

“Let’s work some magic.” Opal dipped her fingers into the blood and then dropped to her haunches. Her cheeks sucked in as she traced bloody fingers in the air, creating symbols of red that hung as if written on something solid. Wildly impossible, and yet everything Opal sketched remained suspended and began to glow. Even better, it kept the mind-possessed at bay.

“More blood,” Opal muttered, showing clean fingers. The blood had left them to form the shapes she’d created.

Avera squeezed her fist and let it drip onto Opal’s waiting hands. As more symbols took shape, the glow around them intensified and the mist retreated.

“Now to break the chain holding them.” Opal grunted as she clapped her hands and then pushed them forward.

The symbols containing bits of Avera’s blood went flying, slapping into Gustav first, then those by his side. As they fell to their knees, more of the marks hit those behind. As they dropped, the ones situated further back got touched next. As this happened, the mist crowding the ledge fled.

Avera liked to imagine it screamed as it went.

The suspended symbols disappeared, and Avera held her breath. Everyone remained crouched with heads bent.

Then the sobbing began. One person. Two. Their bodies shook as they wailed.

Not Gustav, he shook his head before raising a stricken expression to murmur, “I am so sorry, my queen. I swear I didn’t want to harm you.”

“Not your fault, Gustav. You were bespelled.”

“We all were,” Josslyn added, dropping the spade with a moue of distaste.

“What have we done?” Released from the mist’s compulsion, the folk from Herder’s Respite began lamenting their actions.

“Good people of Daerva, you must use this chance to escape,” Avera called out. “Leave. Quickly now before the mist captures you again.”

A woman with florid cheeks pursed her lips. “We’re far from home and it’s freezing outside. We’ll never make down the Spire to safety.”

“I can help with that,” Opal stated as she stood. “A spell of warmth will help you get off the mountain. However, you’ll have to move fast as its effect will diminish over time.”

“You’re the witch of the Spire,” a man spat, his jowly cheeks hanging on a face that was once fat.

“Guardian,” Opal corrected. “And you might want to watch the insults if you wish to escape alive.”

“Please. Help us get home,” a woman pleaded.

“Everyone, gather close,” Opal ordered.

When they’d huddled together, Opal closed her eyes and began weaving her hands while chanting. Strands—mere filaments really—of light began spinning from her moving fingers. They rippled lazily in the air before drifting to drape the townsfolk, wrapping them in a glowing web that sank into their skin and clothes, leaving them luminescent.

Opal kept weaving, her expression taut with strain. “Close your eyes while I tie it off. It will be blinding,” she warned.

Gustav did one better, he tucked Avera and Josslyn against his chest. Even then, the flash of brilliance lit up the inside of her eyelids.

Thump.

Avera opened her eyes to see Opal had collapsed.

“The witch is dead!” someone yelled. “She cast a death spell.”

“I don’t wanna die!” screamed another.

Agitated townsfolk started to push and shove as they moved for the exit.

Avera opened her mouth to stop them. Panic seemed ill-advised, given the stormy weather and treacherous terrain outside.

Gustav growled, “Let them go.”

“Shouldn’t I reassure them? They need to be careful, or they’ll cause their own demise,” she pointed out.

“Better a clean death than the one they’d receive below. Besides, can you blame their terror given what they experienced? At least some, if not most of them, will make it off the mountain, which is better than the fate they would have suffered if we’d not come.”

Avera bit her lip as she watched the frightened folk fleeing. As their queen, it felt as if she should have done more, but Gustav was right. If terror helped them move faster, then perhaps it was for the best. Who knew how long before the mist sought out the workers Zhos needed for freedom.

An audible groan led to Avera dropping to her knees beside Opal. “Are you okay?”

“I’ll live,” grumbled the old lady. “I just need some rest.”

“How long will the heating spell last?” Avera asked as Opal pushed herself to a sitting position.

“If lucky, a few hours. But I don’t know how long before the mist returns.” The old woman rubbed her forehead. “Two big spells in one day is something better suited to the young.”

“Thank you,” Avera murmured. “Without you, all would have been lost.”

“Only because you wouldn’t flee.” Opal sighed. “Although, I can respect that you care enough not to abandon your companions.”

“We need to bind your wound,” Josslyn exclaimed, noticing the blood still dripping from Avera’s hand.

“I’m fine. It’s just a little cut.”

“A cut to save us. Your blood broke that thing’s hold,” Gustav, ever observant, remarked.

“Because she is of the Voxspira line,” Opal stated as she stood unsteadily.

“Which means what? Why is my blood special?”

“I don’t know. What I do know is you need to leave before Zhos gathers enough strength to send the mist again. I don’t have it in me to cast another spell.”

“Leaving sounds like an excellent plan,” Gustav declared. “I am not keen on being a puppet again. Shall we brave the cold?”

“We will depart shortly, but not in the direction we arrived,” Avera said, watching as the number of on the ledge townsfolk dwindled as they fled the mountain. “Opal says there’s a shortcut to Seaserpent Bay on the opposite side.”

“Why would we go to that port?” Gustav looked and sounded puzzled.

“Because I’m to go on a quest.”

Gustav might have kept asking questions, but Avera clapped her hands and crowed, “Luna! She escaped too!”

Or so she thought, until she realized her charging horse wasn’t stopping. On the contrary, Luna huffed and lowered her head as she aimed right for Avera!