The Onyx Throne - Book One

Allora seemed a little more herself when she awoke the next morning. Mitchell and Lethelin had swapped off watches rather than try to rouse her, but there was nothing for it. Whatever was going on with Allora, she needed her sleep.

“Are you feeling okay?” Mitchell asked as she forced down her breakfast.

Allora didn’t answer for a long time as she stared at the dying embers of their fire.

“There is an empty feeling inside of me,” she answered at last. “Where my mana was, it feels cold… dead.”

Her voice cracked. The elf brought her eyes to his and then quickly looked away. Her skin had regained a little bit of color, but she still looked sickly. And her lack of appetite was beginning to show as well. She looked to have lost a kilogram or more in just the last two days.

“We’ll figure something out,” he told her and tried to sound reassuring. “We did alright against the wolves last night with just our blades and my spells. I’ll keep practicing, and we’ll get to your friend and find out what’s wrong. It’s going to be okay.”

Allora gave a half-hearted smile, but he could tell she wasn’t optimistic. Mitchell himself was more scared than he’d been at any time since he’d arrived. They had, at best, seven-to-ten days to get across these damned mountains and her condition didn’t seem to be getting better.

With Marvin and Tammi fed and saddled with their gear, they set off up the trail. They had all pulled out their heavier cloaks as the wind blowing through the passes had a distinct chill and Mitchell could see hints of frost in the deeper shadows of the rocks and crags.

They marched on. Lethelin took the lead with Tammi, Allora was in the middle and Mitchell pulled up the rear with Marvin.

The passes they worked their way through were at times so narrow that Mitchell had to turn sideways to squeeze through. At other times they opened up into what could almost be called valleys. This far down the slopes they didn’t have to do much actual climbing as the passes were well-used, but occasionally they would come to a part that was washed out or a section that was covered by a rock slide where things got more treacherous. By the time they settled in that night, everyone was exhausted. Mitchell felt like he’d hiked thirty miles, but, in reality, they’d probably made it less than five.

He ached all over and the girls weren’t faring much better. He knew that the heart stone was helping to keep his body in peak condition and he would wake up mostly fine in the morning, but the others were having to do this without assistance. Mitchell needed to keep that in mind when he decided to encourage them to keep going or to rest.

In the end, they stopped earlier than they technically needed to because Mitchell was expecting another wolf attack and wanted to rest as much as possible so as to have a good fire going before their assailants arrived. Allora had taught him the signs of the large beasts as they’d walked and he had seen more and more evidence of their activity. They primarily came out at dusk, though, so they had a little bit of time.

As the group ate a hurried dinner, Mitchell was scanning through his spell book looking for anything else that might help. He wanted something that would help them make fortifications. When he explained to Allora what he was looking for, she said that most spells of that nature were from the transmutation school and he didn’t have access to that mana type.

There were some other interesting possibilities, but they were complicated runes, and he didn’t think he could master them in time to be useful. He was still struggling with the fire bolt spell, and that was only a second-circle casting. With a sigh, he put the book in his pack and went back to practicing the fire bolt while Lethelin scarfed down the rest of her meal and Allora forced hers down. Marvin and Tammi were set back against the far wall munching placidly on their oats. Once in a while Tammi would stick her broad, flat nose against Marvin’s cheek and nuzzle him and he would respond with a rumble in his chest that almost sounded like a purr. It was kinda sweet, Mitchell thought.

The spot they had found to rest in was better protected than the one they had left behind that morning. The opening was narrower and, with the size of the dire wolves, they would struggle to get even two abreast, so that should make it easier to defend.

With Allora being in a weakened conditioned she was relegated to the back which didn’t make her happy but she didn’t have the strength to argue. Also, since she couldn’t be healed if she were hurt, it was better to keep her protected just in case. Mitchell couldn’t heal himself if he were hurt but he was stronger than he’d ever been in his life and stood a better chance if the wolves got in too close.

The plan was for Mitchell to try his fire bolt spell and burn the first one or two to make it in and if it looked like he was having trouble, Lethelin would assist with the stiletto and dagger. Without her rapier, she only had the option to fight in close. Mitchell didn’t like either choice for her considering the size and power of the wolves, so he resolved to see none got past him.

Once roles were defined and the plan settled, he stood about two meters back from the entrance where he would have a little more room to use his long sword and they waited. Lethelin was to his right just out of reach of his sword arm, and Allora was back towards the center of the cave near the fire looking like she was having trouble staying on her feet. She had tried to hold her sword up in the ready position but her strength failed before long.

As before, it was the yulops who alerted them before the wolves made their move. Marvin let out a bleating whine as his large nostrils flared and Tammi was right behind. They both got to their feet and pushed themselves into the back corner and began to shiver.

“A lot of help you guys are,” Mitchell grumbled to himself as he turned his attention back to the entrance, already forming the fire bolt rune in his mind. At least they were good for an early warning system.

The wolves didn’t make them wait long.

“One just went past the entrance,” Allora said from behind. Her eyes were sharper than his, even in her weakened state.

Mitchell hadn’t seen a thing in the darkness, but he trusted her. He channeled the mana and held the spell at the ready. Holding it too long would cause additional damage to the bloodstone that worked with his evocation mana and cause it to degrade faster, but he needed to risk it. He needed this first fire bolt to go off correctly.

Almost like it had been invisible, the first wolf suddenly appeared in the entrance snarling with huge fangs bared and leapt at Mitchell’s throat. He’d been wound so tight that his hand shot forward automatically, and he released the spell. Thankfully, it held this time and a tennis-ball sized orb of yellow-orange fire appeared a few inches from his palm and shot forward and right into the wolf’s gaping maw. Its snarl turned into a near-human like scream of pain as fire engulfed its face and charred the fleshy bits inside its mouth. Crashing to the ground, it started thrashing about trying to extinguish the flames and Mitchell almost felt sorry for the beast. That didn’t slow him down, though. He executed a perfect lunge and thrust the sword between the agonized animal’s ribs and gave it a twist for good measure. Its thrashing ended then as the smell of charred meat filled the cavern.

Before Mitchell could celebrate, the second wolf came charging through the opening and he barely got his sword up in time to slash it across the chest. The thick fur blunted a lot of the force of the blow, but it yelped in pain and lashed a claw at his leg as it backed off. Mitchell felt lines of fire tear across his right thigh. He hissed in pain but slashed with his sword, trying to drive the animal back. The stone-colored wolf hopped away almost disdainfully and growled low in its chest. Mitchell could see its back legs start to tense as it prepared to lunge, and he quickly fired off another fire bolt which struck the wolf in the side as it tried to turn. It howled in agony and surprise spinning in a quick circle before fleeing back towards the entrance. Mitchell caught a brief glimpse of at least two more just outside, but neither rushed in to take their wounded pack mate’s place. Watching it run off in flames appeared to have spooked them.

Not wanting to risk it, Mitchell fired two more fire bolts into the night in quick succession. They weren’t as lighting fast as his arcane missile spell was, but they did more damage overall. He heard a yelp, whether out of pain or fear, he couldn’t say.

“Your leg,” Lethelin said from the side.

“It’s not that bad,” Mitchell said, though he was gritting his teeth. “Stay there. That last one running out may have frightened them off, but I don’t know for sure.”

He saw Lethelin nod from the corner of his eye, and Mitchell set his feet again and watched the entrance. He could feel the itch of the blood running down his calf from his wound, but he ignored it. For all he knew, the things were waiting out there for him to be distracted and they would try again.

A minute passed. Then five. His arms and shoulder were starting to ache from the effort of holding up the sword at the ready. The night wind howled through the pass, and the sweat was starting to get uncomfortably cold in the chill night.

“I have not seen any movement outside the entrance since the other two ran off,” Allora said. “I think we are safe for now.”

Mitchell looked over at Lethelin and she nodded. Only then did he allow himself to sag and acknowledge the searing pain in his leg.

“Fuuuuuck that hurts,” he growled as he looked down to examine the wound. Three slashes, almost an inch across each, had been carved into his right thigh. Surprisingly, there wasn’t as much blood as he feared. In fact, it was barely bleeding at all. When he commented on it, Allora explained as she pulled out some herbs from her pack to help dress the wound.

“We are getting closer to Awenor,” she began as she guided him to sit next to the fire so she could dress the wound. She pulled her belt knife out and cut away the pants around the gash, leaving his lower leg exposed. “The heart stone will begin to affect you more strongly as you enter her lands. It channels some of her power to you. Faster healing is but one of the benefits.

Mitchell grunted in pain as Allora finished wiping away the blood with a towel she had pulled from somewhere and smeared a wad of cold poultice that smelled like mint on the wounds. She ignored his protestations and set about wrapping his injury with sure, efficient movements.

“Your magic will be stronger as well, but the downside is that you will use your gemstones faster, so will need a more steady supply.”

“I always thought the monarchs got stones from Awen,” Lethelin said as she came back from calming Marvin and Tammi.

Allora gave her a side-eyed look and finished wrapping the wound before answering.

“A common misconception. One I think the palace likes to keep alive to discourage troublemakers.”

“Does that make a difference,” Mitchell asked as he pulled his pack over and pulled out a fresh pair of pants.

Allora looked at him with a wide-eyed look of surprised, then gave a weary smile.

“Sometimes, even I forget that you are not from here,” she said with a weak chuckle. “Yes, it makes a very big difference. It is why Awen’s sisters were hunted and killed. It is why Milandris hunts for her even now. Stones from an elemental’s geode are priceless magical artifacts. In a sevith or krisa they can last years, even decades. A geode stone can be imprinted with the requisite mana type, so you don’t need multiple gemstones to cast your spell. Just one geode stone for each type of mana you can channel. They can be ground into powder and used to make powerful potions. They can be infused into enchantments to increase their power. And much more.”

Allora took a breath, the long speech having winded her in her weakened condition.

“But,” she continued, “to more directly answer Lethelin’s question, Awen has not gifted a monarch with stones since Lorrich Sunmantle, the third ruler.”

“Isn’t he the one who went mad and killed half the palace before he was stopped?” Lethelin said as she adjusted some of the logs in the fire.

Allora winced but nodded.

“Yes,” she said with a note of sadness in her voice. “Awen’s stones in his krisa made him almost impossible to stop because they didn’t wear out after repeated castings. Many people died that day.

After a pause, she continued.

“After his death, the stones were given back to Awen, and she decided that, given the fragile nature of mortal minds, she could not risk giving stones to rulers in the future.

“But the stone you have in your sword is a piece of her?” Mitchell asked after everyone had settled back down.

“It is,” she said. “But it is not able to channel my mana the way the stones in my krisa can. It serves a defensive purpose only. I can use it to either cast a shield spell or an absorb mana spell. It will not cast any other should I try to use it as such.”

Mitchell had a memory of Allora intercepting some of Dakath’s spells with her blade during the fight, and it made sense now. The magic he had flung at her had been taken in by the sword.

“Forgive me, but I must rest,” Allora said before he could ask any more questions. “You did well with your fight against the wolves. Your skill is improving.”

Mitchell gave her a small smile.

“Thanks,” he told her. “And yeah, rest. Please. Leth and I will keep watch.”

Allora nearly collapsed into her bedroll and was asleep almost instantly.

Mitchell changed into a fresh pair of pants, which was made difficult by the stiffness developing in the wound, but he managed. He saw Lethelin pretending not to watch and gave her a side-eyed grin, which she returned. They both sat in silence for a while, listening to the wind blow outside. They heard the occasional howl of one of the dire wolves, but there was no sign that they would attack again. Maybe they had finally learned their lesson.

“She’s getting worse,” Lethelin said suddenly.

Mitchell was pulled from his thoughts and looked to see Lethelin staring at Allora’s sleeping form with concern on her smudged face. They were all a little dirty at this point.

“I know,” he said.

“Did you see her eyes? They color is fading. I’m not sure if she could have lifted her sword during the fight if she had tried.”

“I know,” Mitchell repeated, echoing her concern.

“We will find a way,” he told her. “We have to.”

“Do you really think so?” Lethelin asked him. The look she gave him was plaintive and searching.

“One foot in front of the other gets you where you’re going,” he told her by way of reply. “We’ve made it this far. We defeated Ivaran and his men, trekked across a desert, survived an assassin, and we’re in the final leg of the journey. We’ll get there.”

“I hope you’re right,” she told him with a sigh.

“Me, too,” Mitchell said to himself.

With those assurances, Mitchell took first watch and Lethelin went to sleep.

Mitchell’s watch passed without incident and, when the appropriate time came, he woke Lethelin for her shift. Some hours later, Mitchell was shaken roughly awake to find Lethelin leaning over him, her green eyes wide and panicked.

“I can’t wake Allora!”