The Guardians of the Forest: Book Two by Kelly Napoli

CHAPTER 47

  ILLUSION

  The days soon melted into weeks. Camella left the next day; the two of them had slept side by side in the grass, talking well into the night. Unlike Navadar, Camella did not travel during the night if she could help it. In fact, she was terrified of the dark. Kiethara had not minded her staying in the slightest. It had been so…nice. Relaxing, actually. It wasn’t like talking to Aaron, who had a lesson between each sentence. It certainly wasn’t like conversing with Navadar, where every word made her feel self-conscious. It had been easy and true.

  Kiethara found herself wandering about, weaving in and out of the trees. It reminded her of the days before her world had been turned upside down. Hours of quiet musing and random acts to break up the day. Bathing twice a day. Using her magic for fun and games instead of training and battle.

  But Kiethara also remembered how dull those days had been. If her life had not spiraled out of control, she would have probably wasted away from boredom a long time ago. She smiled grimly to herself.

  She had already talked to Aaron and he was more opposed to Camella than he had been to Navadar, for some unfathomable reason.

  “You cannot just welcome in every single person who ventures in here, Kiethara!” he had said. “Anybody can be working for Gandador, even innocent little girls!”

  “I was right about Navadar, wasn’t I?” she pointed out.

  “Considering the number of times you have attacked him, I would say not.”

  “Aaron!”

  “Does Camella know about Gandador? About you being his daughter?” he had asked, switching tactics on her.

  “No, but—”

  “So don’t consider her one of your friends until you find out everything about her and, once you have, if she checks out all right, make sure she knows about your position, too.”

  And that had been the end of that discussion.

  Camella, though, was soon pushed to the back of her thoughts. A more pressing matter was Navadar. She was still anxiously awaiting his return. He had promised that he would come back as soon as he could—a promise she knew he would not be able to keep very well—but other thoughts began to creep into her mind. Was he hurt? Dead? If he was, how would she ever find out?

  Or what if, on his trip back, he had realized that he really should be furious with her? What if he suddenly decided he never wanted to see her again, not even for a goodbye visit to let her know his decision? Could he really leave her like that, desperately waiting for a visit that would never come?

  Kiethara shook her head. She was only blowing things out of proportion. Trinnia died and all she was worried about was the next time she would see him.

  Trinnia’s death continued to bother her. Her dreams were blood baths—she could no longer walk into her mother’s meadow. Aaron had been sympathetic, but he had also told her that it would not be a bad thing to pay Trinnia some respect.

  But she had not been able to do it. She had tried, but something in the back of her mind showed her Trinnia’s mangled corpse, screaming at her to sprint in the opposite direction anytime she got near the place.

  She should be able to do it! What will she tell Navadar if he asks? Sorry, I was too scared to place a flower where she’s buried….

  She could do that, couldn’t she? Just place a flower upon her grave. Just one flower. Kiethara focused on the ground at her feet. A single white rose grew, although it looked a little limp.

  As she bent down to pick it up, the connection in her head exploded with activity.

  A presence—strong, full of magic—had appeared in her head. It was equally as powerful as the man Gandador had brought with him, Tryke. Kiethara’s stomach dropped; whoever it was, it was an enemy. It could even be Gandador, if he had lost some magic.

  A small hiss escaped her lips. Now? So soon?! Her father’s visits usually spanned months, not weeks. And here he was, or possibly Sinsenta, in her clearing! It was only by fate she wasn’t there now!

  Kiethara took a deep breath. And then gasped.

  Now that she was focused on her connection she realized that there was a second presence inside the forest. It was so faint she could barely feel it: this person had no magic.

  And the second presence was only ten yards away.

  Navadar? NOW?! It felt just like him. Cursing, Kiethara tied her hair back quickly with a blade of grass and unsheathed her sword, pressing her back up against the nearest tree. It went against instinct to turn her back to the stronger opponent, but the weaker one was closer.

  The first thought that crossed her mind as the figure broke through the trees was that it was not Navadar. The relief was strong, but it was soon overshadowed by other emotions.

  It was Markii.

  She had only met him once, but it seemed that his stolid persona had not changed in the slightest degree. His face held no emotion—the only thing she could glean from his intense gray eyes was observance. Even though he was not aware of the danger yet, his body was already tense and his sword had already been drawn.

  He paused when he saw her. His expression did not change, but his intense eyes probed her. He lowered his sword a fraction of an inch, as though to tell her that he meant her no harm.

  Kiethara nodded to the north, put a finger on her lips, and lifted her sword in response. Her tense body language and the fact that she had pressed herself flat against the bark should tell him something, at least.

  He caught on quickly. He hurried over to her—amazing really, how quiet he could walk—and took a place besides hers. For a moment they quietly breathed in harmony, listening to the sounds around them. Kiethara turned to Markii.

  “One man is in my clearing to the north. He is powerful, but that’s all I can tell from here. You should go—”

  “No.”

  He didn’t say it like Navadar. It was blunt, uncaring, and the small word held no fear. She had no weakness to play on him. Actually, he unnerved her.

  Kiethara frowned. Markii had no magic of his own. The only weapons he seemed to possess were his sword and his stealth, but that could only take you so far in the dangerous game she played; however, the idea of Markii’s intimidating strength on her side was rather tempting. Frankly, she could use the help he was offering.

  So Kiethara nodded to Markii’s blunt answer. “I have a plan, if you would be so willing.”

  Markii nodded, his probing eyes becoming even more intense.

  “This man will be looking for me. It might confuse him, or at least throw him off his guard, if he spotted you first. I’ll follow you from above, in the trees, and I want you to walk directly into my clearing. Once my guest is sufficiently distracted, I’ll jump in from behind.”

  Markii silently nodded his approval.

  “They’ll be able to use magic,” she warned him.

  “Don’t worry about me,” he said in a low voice.

  Kiethara inclined her head to the north. “Just go as straight as you can until you reach the clearing. It will have a hammock in it. Expect the man hovering along the trees on the western edge.”

  It was difficult to focus on speech and her connection at the same time, but not impossible. The presence was pacing by the perimeter, waiting.

  Markii started walking to the north. His abrupt confidence and lack of fear left her frozen for a long moment before she could kick off into the tree tops. She could not decide if his type of courage could be considered as arrogance or not. It certainly wasn’t anything she was used to…

  Kiethara did not know him at all. The meeting they had had before this had revealed little, and this one was traveling along the same path. He was a complete mystery and now she had to fight alongside him.

  Using her flight and adept skills at navigating her way through branches, Kiethara made quick progress in the trees. She made sure she could see Markii below her at all times. He walked through the forest with a purposeful stride. It was the swagger of the invincible.

  Kiethara frowned. It almost seemed as if her a
uthority and power in the forest were being challenged.

  She shook her head, disgusted. This was the last thing she should be thinking about. Her wounded pride could be nursed after she faced what lay ahead. The forest was in danger. She needed to focus on the fact that it could be her father in her clearing. She could not be taken by surprise, not even if he held Trinnia’s decaying body in his arms. She needed to focus. It was time to rid the world of the horrible man that threatened it, as Aaron had told her.

  A small part of her mind wished that it would be Markii who would do it for her. She hated her father enough to want him dead, but to physically kill him herself was another matter entirely.

  Finally, the trees began to thin as her clearing got closer and closer. The assailant was still pacing to the west. Silently, Kiethara slipped down the branches and hung off the lowest branch, so her face was a foot from Markii’s.

  “I’ll circle around. He’s fifteen paces to the northwest,” she whispered. He nodded, showing no signs of surprise at her sudden appearance. His intense expression had not changed in the slightest.

  With a pounding heart, she pulled herself back up into the trees and circled her clearing by a half. Adrenaline heightened her awareness.

  Kiethara peered through the leaves to catch sight of her intruder.

  She didn’t know whether to feel relieved or not. It wasn’t Gandador, or anybody else she had seen before. The air around him was so thick it was as though it was made of smoke. Whoever he was, she could tell he was not here on a friendly visit.

  His expression portrayed the same message. It was dark; his bushy eyebrows pulled together in scrutiny. His lips were set in a small frown, though they looked as if they would slip into a scowl at any moment. His hair was dark brown, shortly cropped, and on his chin was a goatee that came to a fine point.

  His clothes were…strange. His torso was clothed in a purple silk, while his legs were sheathed in black leather. A smoky gray cloak hung on his shoulders, while the inside lined was with a pungent yellow. She had never laid eyes on such an eccentric combination of colors and materials, not even with Camella.

  Kiethara’s stomach flipped uneasily, for something about this man did not seem right. Clenching her sword, she waited for Markii to play his part.

  From her vantage point, Kiethara could only see the man, not Markii. But she heard him clear his throat.

  The man turned sharply in his direction. He appraised Markii for a long moment—Kiethara could only imagine what he saw. An emotionless warrior, sword drawn and expression intense.

  “Who are you?” the man snapped. He sounded arrogant and annoyed.

  “I was about to ask you the same thing,” Markii said. His tone of voice sounded almost bored.

  “I am Swallin, son of Ilnock!” he announced proudly, sneering at Markii. “And you?”

  Kiethara held her breath as she shifted her position slightly. She needed Swallin to be talking. He had to be sufficiently distracted for his reaction time to be hindered, especially if she were to say, land on top of him.

  “Why are you here?” Markii asked, ignoring his question.

  Swallin cocked his head. “Bold move there, boy. I think I’m going to have to teach you some respect. See, when I ask—”

  Kiethara landed with a muted thud behind Swallin. The tip of her sword flashed up to his neck.

  “Now, I believe you are the one who needs to learn some respect,” she said in a fierce tone.

  “Ah,” Swallin said with a smile. “Just the person I was looking for. It’s nice of you to join us.”

  “Did Gandador send you?” she snapped. She was already tired of the snotty tone of his voice.

  “Yes, and with a message, actually,” he said, eyeing Markii as he stalked forward with a raised sword. “He told me to tell you ‘evol.’”

  As though she needed reminding. The message behind the word was clear. Trinnia was dead because of her and she was here because of her mother.

  “Why didn’t he come himself?” she asked.

  “He’s occupied at the moment, but once your tied down and gagged, I’m sure he’ll stop by.”

  Kiethara snorted. “Oh, really?”

  An unnerving smile spread across his face, shooting ice through her veins.

  Something in the corner of her eye caught her attention. A dark figure could be seen suddenly between the trees, and, as it walked forward, somehow the colors slowly became visible…Kiethara stared at it, bewildered. It finally stepped out from the shadows.

  It was Navadar.

  Navadar?

  It couldn’t be.

  Navadar walked forward without a word. His features were twisted in a mask of shock, although his body language did not portray that he felt any fear. There was too much innocence in his eyes.

  A small part of her mind, though, reasoned that it couldn’t be Navadar. The color of his hair was wrong, the blond a bit too dark. He was taller than normal, making his torso leaner in length. The clothes he wore were a deep, smoky gray.

  Every time she tried to focus on the details, his form became slightly distorted. It was like trying to stare at her reflection in the water when it kept rippling from a disturbance. Her eyes kept unfocusing.

  While Navadar walked forward, Swallin took advantage of her distraction. As Markii let out a noise of warning, her sword was knocked out of her hand. Time seemed to slow—to thicken—as she watched in horror as the gleaming blade landed in the grass. A boot was then landed in her stomach.

  Things sped up again as she flew back. As she soared through the air, her eyes widened as Navadar smoldered into a gray shape and then faded out into thin air.

  Kiethara let out a gasp as her back made contact with a tree trunk. The sight that she had just witnessed still burned into her eyes. Navadar had not been real. It had been an illusion. It had been magic.

  Was that possible?! She was going to have a serious talk with Aaron after this. The time of being left in the dark for protection or some other nonsense was over. She needed to be able to expect things like this.

  The sounds of metal striking metal filled her clearing. Swallin had pulled a two foot dagger from his robe and now he and Markii were returning vicious swipes and stabs.

  Kiethara rolled to her feet, grabbing her sword in the process. She leapt into the air, posing her sword so it would split his skull.

  Swallin, however, was quick with a blade. His moves were jerky and fast, almost unnatural.

  Kiethara parried his block with her sword and then countered it with a blast of fire. It missed by mere inches as he jerked out of the way, the heat singing his strange fabrics.

  The fighting intensified until pure instinct bled into her thoughts and wiped everything else clean. She worked with Markii in a way she had never imagined. Their techniques were different, but for where one of them lacked, the other picked up.

  Swallin took his dagger—now enflamed like Kiethara’s sword—in a two-handed strike. Before it could come down on her, Markii’s blade intercepted it. While he used his strength to hold Swallin there, she swiftly rolled over Markii’s back and stabbed Swallin on the other side.

  This time, she caught flesh. Swallin howled like a dog as he retreated, clutching his side as the blood stained the purple silk.

  “Your father was right!” Swallin hissed, holding his hand to the flesh wound. He retreated several more feet, allowing Markii and her respite. “You’re a devious brat with a power you don’t deserve!”

  Kiethara snorted. She had heard this before. “Let me guess—he sent you here under the orders to capture me, not kill me, although you are allowed to rouse my emotions as best you can and injury me in anyway. Oh, and he probably told you not to harm the forest. Any of this sounding familiar?”

  Swallin stared at her for a moment before spitting on the ground. “It is obvious that this has gone on for too long.”

  “Couldn’t agree more.”

  “Good,” he said with a smile that sent chills
down her spine. “Let’s end this, shall we?”

  Kiethara was expecting his next move and so, it seemed, did Markii. They split up and sprinted in opposite directions.

  Swallin had disappeared and then reappeared right where they had been just seconds before. Kiethara looked back as she broke through the first of the trees to see Swallin strutting in her direction.

  Heart pounding, Kiethara kicked off the springy soil and into the sky. Rising above the trees gave her an opportunity to take a deep breath. She needed to wrap her head around some things.

  Illusions. What branch of twisted magic was that? The image of Navadar still haunted her thoughts. Of course, Gandador had told all of his little followers about her personal life. There was no reason for him not to. What would Swallin show her next? Her mother?

  Something else to consider: if he could make illusions, he could probably fly as well. Here in the sky, with no cover, was not the ideal place to wait for an enemy to find her. On top of that, she needed to find Markii. The last thing she wanted was for him to fight that man alone, but the only problem was that she could not sense him with her connection. He needed to be very close, or she needed to focus harder, something she could not afford to do when Swallin could attack her at any moment.

  Kiethara ducked back down into the trees and landed on the ground with a muted thud. She froze, crouched low, and listened to the sounds around her. The birds still cawed around her, letting her know there was nothing to fear.

  She focused briefly on her connection. Swallin was to the northwest, but he was at least half a mile away. Why would he be so far? Was Markii there?

  Kiethara picked up her stride, trying to make as little noise as possible. Markii seemed invulnerable, but the fact that she could not sense him very well made her uneasy. He was like a blade of grass among the thousands; not distinguished by magic as Gandador was.

  “Kiethara.”

  Kiethara turned in time to see Markii melt out of the shadows. She gasped when she saw his expression.

  He was smiling!

  No, he was leering.

  He advanced towards her; every step forward for him was every step backwards for her until her back was pressed up against a tree. She stared up at him in shock.

  This wasn’t Markii! It couldn’t be! The emotions on his face made him almost unrecognizable. His gray eyes had a light she had never thought them possible of.

  “Markii?” she asked.

  “Mmm,” he murmured. He walked closer until their bodies were only an inch apart.

  She pressed herself even closer to the tree. “We have to go take care of Swallin…”

  “I dealt with him,” Markii whispered, placing his arm on the bark above her and leaning forward. He stared at her so…openly. Kiethara’s fist balled up and navy blue eyes sparked at the outrageous gesture.

  Somewhere in her head, her connection nudged her slightly. Focusing on it, the first thing she felt was Swallin, only a quarter mile away. The next thing she felt was a very faint presence only a few feet away.

  The third thing she felt was realization.

  A blade suddenly flashed as it ran its way through the image of Markii before her. The figure turned gray and then sizzled into the air.

  The sickly haze cleared to reveal the real Markii. His expression was still blank, his eyes still intense. The only difference was a slight rigidity to his composure now.

  Anger and embarrassment suddenly consumed her. Her hands burst into flames and she struck the tree next to her, setting it on fire.

  “I can’t believe I fell for that!” she hissed.

  “He did the same to me,” he told her.

  Kiethara imagined an image of her seducing Markii…and shuddered. “Wonderful.”

  The tree next to her creaked as the connection in her head prickled uncomfortably. She let out a breath through her nose and then put out the blaze.

  “He’s playing with us,” he said.

  That he was. These off-handed tactics were nothing like the methods Gandador used. Swallin was dangerous, but there was something about him, a slight immaturity, that kept her from choking up in fear. He was like a child having too much fun. She could tell that besides for illusions, he was not good at any other type of magic. She had only seen him disappear and reappear—a conversation she still had to have with Aaron—and work a little fire. Besides his ability with a blade, he had nothing else.

  “He’s weak from his wound,” she said. “He is too scared to face the two of us alone. He thought he could pick me off using his illusions. Gandador doesn’t know you, so they hadn’t been able to factor you in. His plan is ruined.”

  Markii nodded. “This will be simple if we don’t split up.”

  “Let’s hope so,” she sighed. She paused to focus on her connection and then she pointed to the north.

  Together, they lurked towards Swallin like a pair of predators tracking their prey. This time she did not draw her sword; her powers would be her weapon of choice, now that she knew that she was more advanced against him in that aspect. They would play as a sharper sword. She considered briefly about turning invisible, but that wouldn’t help Markii.

  Kiethara slowed and Markii followed suit. Together, they peered through the trees.

  Swallin was swearing. He was bare-chested, for he was using the remainder of his shirt to address his wound. He was pulling it tight around his abdomen, and each tug brought on even louder swears.

  Kiethara stepped forward with bated breath. All she had to do was—

  Behind her, Markii snapped a twig.

  She couldn’t justify being angry with him. It wasn’t as though he was used to traveling in the forest. Still, she felt a prick of annoyance when Swallin’s head snapped up, ruining her plan.

  Kiethara rolled to the side, dodging his blade by a good couple of feet. Her partner was not as lucky, though. She turned just in time to see him jerk his forearm away, which was now adorned with a shallow cut. It quickly turned red with blood.

  Kiethara pulled herself to her feet. At the same time, vines began climbing their way up Swallin’s leg. Praying Markii was taking advantage of her distraction, she lunged forward.

  With amazing flexibility and dexterity he bended himself backwards in a way that was almost gruesome. Her vines had not had enough time to climb high enough to prohibit movement of his torso and he was quick to take the benefit.

  As Kiethara landed in the grass, his hand shot out. Before she could even comprehend what was happening, he had removed the small glass bottle filled with her blessed, silver liquid.

  She gasped and spun to face him, but he had already kicked free of the vines and ripped his makeshift wrap off.

  She wasted no time in tackling him, but half of the potion still made it onto his wound.

  The sudden lack of open wound seemed to give Swallin a fresh wave of strength. He brought his knee up into her stomach, knocking the breath out of her. She rolled off of him, gasping, and he jumped to his feet.

  A golden sphere flew up around her just in time. Swallin’s blow was blocked, saving her from what would have been many broken ribs.

  Markii sprang forward and landed a punch on Swallin’s cheek. He stumbled back, spitting out blood and teeth. Kiethara was relieved to see Markii had wrapped his wound with part of his shirt.

  “Are you all right?” she asked when she was on her feet. She allowed her shield to disappear. He nodded.

  “Well, well,” a voice from behind her drawled.

  Kiethara felt ice run through her entire body, a fear so painful it almost made her heart stop. The voice was horribly familiar. She turned in horror.

  Gandador slipped out of the trees with his usual smirk adorning his features.

  “Illusion,” Markii whispered. He had not even bothered to turn around.

  Kiethara mashed her teeth together in frustration. She had had enough of this. Her crystals glowed bright and she allowed her anger to surge inside her…

  With a c
ry, she spun around with her arms outstretched, palms forward. Massive orange flames blasted from her in a pillar of fire, whipping through the air with one wave of ferocious heat and swiped Swallin to the ground.

  He cried out in such agony that Kiethara wanted to claw her own ears out. He dropped to the floor burning, thrashing wildly…

  Only then did Kiethara realize that she would have to kill this man. This man who had come here with a plan that had been thwarted by help she had not anticipated…This man who was as new to the forest as Markii was. Truthfully, this man had never stood a chance. Gandador had barely gotten away last time.

  Gandador was getting desperate.

  Desperate for power, desperate for magic…this pitiful attempt at an attack proved just how far he was reaching. How long would it take for him to realize his plans were futile?

  Markii walked forward, up to the screaming, thrashing body that was Swallin. Kiethara was still frozen in the horror of the image of the burning man before her. She could not move.

  Markii raised his sword. It flashed down just as Kiethara closed her eyes. Swallin’s screams finally cut off.

  It ended as quickly as it started.