The War of the Masters -
Chapter Twenty
CHAPTER TWENTY
Cyrus led the girls out of the caves and into the overpowering sunlight. Squinting, he let his eyes slowly adjust so he could take in his surroundings. A lush, green valley stretched out before them, completely outlined by jagged, white mountains poking at the clouds. Altogether the basin looked to be only an hour’s walk from one end to the other.
From his perch, he was able to see a clearing in the wilderness dotted with several small buildings all huddled around the middle like a snail’s shell. Roughly a mile to the east loomed a large edifice, peeking out from the thick forest.
The temple . . .
Even though the guard had suggested they visit the village first, Cyrus had no intention of doing so. If the Sheckem was already meeting with Dameon, then it was important they acted immediately.
“You girls ready to move out?” Cyrus asked.
“Yes,” came their unison reply.
Cyrus gave them a quick nod and let Keira take the lead; she was better suited for navigating the thick underbrush. A short while later, Keira stopped them a safe distance behind cover so they could study the situation.
The temple ruins were much larger up close than he had initially thought. Massive stone blocks, yellowed by centuries in the sun, made up the steep walls, coming to a point in the center and rising above even the towering trees. Surrounding the temple was a tall, thick wall that ran long on the front side, allowing for a courtyard within their protective barrier. A pair of ancient double doors was the only entrance into the towering structure. Guarding that entrance were four massive warriors, all the same size as the ones they met outside the tunnel.
“What’s our plan?” Terra asked.
Cyrus considered his options. Even if he had wanted to, there was no way they could defeat the warriors in combat. They would have to try a more subtle approach.
“I’m going to lure some of the warriors away,” he said. “While I’m doing that, I need you to project your voice into one of their minds. Try to get him to come over here, alone. I’m hoping we can talk him into helping us after we show them Wolfbane.”
Terra and Keira looked at each other reluctantly, then nodded.
“I’m in,” Keira said. “But let me be the distraction. I can hide in the forest better than you can, and you can talk them into helping better than I can.”
Cyrus paused. “You’re right . . . but I hate to ask you to do that. This could be dangerous.”
Keira raised an eyebrow. “And trying to talk a warrior onto our side isn’t? We’re a team; we each have our parts.” She smiled coolly. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”
“Try not to provoke them—just get their attention,” Cyrus added. Keira nodded and took off, weaving through the thick forest until she was gone from sight.
“Are you ready?” Cyrus asked Terra.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” she answered.
“Hey, slowpokes!” Keira suddenly yelled from her spot. Two of the guards grabbed their spears and darted after her, moving significantly faster than a normal person thanks to their long, heavily muscled legs.
I hope you know what you’re doing, Keira.
Cyrus watched the reactions of the four warriors closely. One of the guards who stayed behind looked at his partner. The other one gave a slight nod. Judging from their body language, Cyrus guessed he was the leader of the group.
“Concentrate on that one,” he whispered to Terra.
Terra closed her eyes and reached out with her mind, feeling the barrage of thoughts and feelings of seven minds at once. Tuning them out like a person in a crowd concentrating on one voice, she honed in on the targeted warrior.
Over here, she projected, making it sound like it was coming from her and Cyrus’s general direction. The warrior turned his head toward them but couldn’t pick them out through the thick veneer of trees.
That’s right, come this way. I have something important to tell you.
The warrior shook his head.
No, you’re not going crazy, Terra reassured him. Just come here.
The man ordered his partner to continue guarding the entrance, then hesitantly walked toward her and Cyrus.
“Nicely done,” Cyrus said. “We’ll have him alone.”
Terra nodded, but kept her concentration locked on the warrior’s mind. She was surprised to replace they normally spoke in a clearer, much more fluent language, loosely based on their own, and only used the broken dialect with outsiders. Terra didn’t catch everything going through his mind, but she could piece together enough to understand what was going on. She hadn’t cruised below his surface thoughts yet, but with the high alert situation, she wanted to be ready to stop him if push came to shove.
As the warrior neared them, Cyrus stepped out in front of the man’s path, setting Wolfbane down on the ground. The warrior instantly raised his spear to attack.
“Wait!” Cyrus said, backing away from the sword. “I didn’t come to fight you. I’m here to return an important artifact to your Sheckem: Wolfbane.”
The mention of the respected relic gave the warrior pause. Glancing at the sword lying on the ground, he spoke with a heavy accent.
“Who are you? Why you have that sword?”
“My name is Cyrus. I bought this sword so that I could return it to your Sheckem, and warn him.”
“About what?”
“The man he’s with, General Dameon.”
“Fire General?” the native asked.
“Yes, he’s a dangerous man. He—”
The warrior cut him off before Cyrus could say anything else. “He with Sheckem now. Gave orders to kill anyone in sight. Orders are orders.”
Terra gasped as the giant guard raised his spear and charged with astonishing speed.
Wait! she shouted into his mind, stepping out from her hiding spot. The warrior stopped his charge and turned to face her. Focusing her telepathy, Terra opened his mind to read every thought and emotion he was feeling.
“I am the one who called out to you,” she said in a strong, confident voice.
Confusion, she thought to herself. He’s feeling confusion and amazement, with just a hint of fear.
Terra had planned to project a deafening scream into his head as she and Cyrus ran away, but after dealing with the butcher, she knew that wouldn’t always work. Instead, she navigated through his emotions until she pinpointed the part of the brain that controlled those feelings.
Maybe I should stop. I don’t want to go too far, Terra thought. Forcing thoughts and emotions into a person’s mind was exactly the kind of thing her father and siblings would do to control people, and she wanted nothing more than to distance herself from their actions.
But if I don’t, there’s a good chance he’ll kill Cyrus and me . . .
Terra was torn, but she saw no other way out.
“How you whisper in my head?” the warrior asked. She felt a rise of anger in his mind.
We don’t want any trouble, Terra projected.
She sensed his hostile attitude—a fierce defiance growing within him. Terra took a breath and let loose her power like never before.
Reaching into the far recesses of his mind, she dredged up a great feeling of remorse and let it wash over him, pouring down like a rainstorm. The feeling of a thousand heartbreaks tore through him at once. Seizing those emotions, Terra linked them to his actions toward Cyrus. The hardened warrior let go of his spear, a tear welling in the corner of his eye. Terra, feeling everything that he was feeling, broke down and began to cry as well.
“We only came to talk to the Sheckem and bring Wolfbane back to your people,” Cyrus said, jumping into the conversation. “There’s no need for anyone to die.”
The warrior wiped his eyes. “I . . . am sorry. You trying to do good deed. Not right to kill you for it. I sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Terra said between choked sobs. Taking a step forward, she gave the giant a hug. Terra knew what she was feeling was artificial, but she was caught up in it all the same.
“Thank you,” The warrior said quietly after a long embrace. “Why it important that you speak to Sheckem about Fire General?”
Terra saw Cyrus’s hand clench into a fist, but he held his anger in check. “The General has been kidnapping people for his experiments. He strips away their free will and turns them into expendable weapons. We’ve seen it firsthand, and if he strikes a deal with the Sheckem, your people will suffer the same fate.”
The warrior looked greatly concerned by this revelation. There was a short pause, then he said, “Sheckem one of few Avenoxi who trust Fire General. I not stop you, but ten warriors in courtyard I have no control over.”
“Hmm . . .” Terra said. “Is there anyone else who may be able to help us?”
“Maybe. Take Wolfbane to Sheckem’s daughter, Ra’Nu. She may help.”
“And if she does,” Cyrus asked, “would you help us as well?”
“Yes. I in charge of main gate. Other three guards and I stand with you. Only if Ra’Nu does.”
“Thank you.”
Terra couldn’t leave this man in such a terrible emotional state. When she thanked him, she sensed a tiny feeling of relief flash through his mind. Probing one last time, she latched onto the emotion and brought it to the forefront, feeding it until it eclipsed his sorrow.
“No, I thank you,” the warrior said with a smile. “We must stop Fire General—for our people.”
Placing his lips on a horn tied around his neck, he gave it a blow. The hollow blast echoed through the trees. Then he gave them one last smile and ran back toward the temple. The two warriors who had been chasing Keira quickly emerged from the forest and walked with him back to their post.
Once Terra was sure they were safe, she relinquished her tough bravado and collapsed in sheer exhaustion. Only Cyrus’s arms kept her from hitting the forest floor.
“Whoa, are you okay?” Cyrus asked.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” Terra said hazily. Cyrus set her down in a sitting position and she took a moment to recover. Then she looked up at him and smiled. “See? Just fine.”
Cyrus chuckled. “My mistake. What exactly did you do to him?”
Terra pressed a hand against her temple. Her head felt like it was spinning. “I took a deep feeling of remorse he was already dealing with and connected it with how he attacked us,” Terra answered, pushing herself up.
Cyrus made sure she was steady. “Wow. I didn’t even know you could do that . . .”
Terra laughed. “Neither did I. Luckily remorse was already on the forefront of his mind; it allowed me a foothold. Otherwise I’m not sure I could have done that.”
“So you can only influence the emotions a person is already feeling, not forge new ones?”
Terra honestly didn’t know. The more she experimented with her powers, the more she realized she could do. “So far,” she replied. “But the effort completely drained me. I don’t think I can perform the Breath of the Masters for a while.”
A nervous look crossed Cyrus’s face. “So, you mean . . .”
Terra nodded gravely. “If you get injured at all I won’t be able to heal you.”
After meeting up with Keira, they began their hike to the village. Cyrus knew he’d have to be more cautious for the rest of the mission. Terra needed time to recover, and if he got injured, or if he used up too much of his energy, he’d revert back to the state he was in before he received the Breath of the Masters—almost dead with no hope of recovering.
I’ll have to replace a way to stack the deck against Dameon. Not make a move until I know I have him beat.
The trek to the village took only fifteen minutes. Standing just within the tree line, Cyrus studied the camp. The village was a loose collection of huts centered around a large fire pit, but, curiously, Cyrus didn’t see a single giant among the people bustling about.
“The people are our size,” Keira noticed as well.
“Maybe the giants are some sort of warrior caste,” Terra guessed. “We do something similar in Candore with the people who can handle dragons.”
“If that’s the case, they probably won’t attack us on sight,” Cyrus said. “Just in case, let’s all stick together.”
The girls nodded and the three of them stepped out from the cover of the forest. At first hardly anyone noticed; the people were too busy with their daily tasks. But then a few meandering nearby stopped to gawk at them. Then three more. Then six.
A feeling of unease settled over Cyrus—it was almost as if every step they took was a curse upon their tribe. By the time they reached the center of the village, everyone’s eyes were upon them.
Cyrus had never felt more like an outsider than right now. In an effort to diffuse the tension, he raised his hands to show he meant no harm.
“Excuse me, I was sent to replace Ra’Nu. Can anybody help me replace her?”
The crowd didn’t move.
Is this just because we’re outsiders? Or are they associating us with Dameon and his men? The warrior did say that no one in the village trusted him.
Keira put a hand on her whip but Cyrus shook his head. Addressing the crowd, he said, “I’ve come to return a relic to Ra’Nu and the Avenoxi people. I mean you no harm. Will somebody lead me to her?”
The iciness of their stares seemed to thaw slightly, and they took a moment to whisper among themselves. Finally an old man stepped forward. Decades in the sun had left him with tanned, leathery skin, reminding Cyrus of a dried orange peel. The tribal elder leaned heavily on a cane and pointed at Cyrus.
“I will lead you to her, but be careful of what you do.” The warning in his tone was unmistakable.
He spoke much more smoothly than the warriors, Cyrus noted. Perhaps the Avenoxi leaders have a better grasp on our language.
“Like I said, we mean no harm,” Cyrus assured him.
Without a word, the old man led them through the village. As they walked, Cyrus scanned the area for potential escape routes, just in case things went poorly. To his surprise, the growing crowd followed them the entire way.
“I don’t like this,” Keira whispered uneasily.
“Don’t worry, we’ve still got Wolfbane,” Cyrus told her. “If these villagers are anything like the warriors, they’ll hear us out.”
At the far end of the camp stood a large tent, beautifully decorated with colorful paintings. Rich landscapes, portraits, and elaborate patterns Cyrus didn’t recognize adorned the walls. The old man stopped outside and waved an arm at the entrance.
“You’ll replace the Sheckem’s daughter in there,” he said, almost grudgingly.
“Thank you, sir.”
Cyrus, Terra, and Keira cautiously entered the tent. Instead of a floor, they stepped onto a spiraling stone staircase that descended thirty feet to the actual living space below. In a way it reminded Cyrus of a miniaturized interior of Candore.
“May we come in?” Terra asked politely.
“Yes,” replied a female voice.
Cyrus led the two girls down the spiral staircase. The hard earth walls were adorned with more exquisite art—several of which portrayed a warrior fighting a crimson-furred werewolf. The stone floor was speckled with furniture, all built large enough for the village warriors.
Opposite the stairs sat a young woman at a wooden table with short blond hair, light blue eyes, and a slim build. Garbed in a white and gold robe, she had an air of authority about her. Two warriors stood on either side of her, their arms crossed.
“Hello,” Cyrus said, slightly bowing his head. “My name is Cyrus, and this is Terra and Keira.”
“Nice to meet you,” Terra added pleasantly.
The young woman gave them a hard stare. “I thought I made it perfectly clear that I don’t care for Dameon and his people.”
“Then you and I have something in common already,” Cyrus replied. “We are outsiders to the Avenoxi people, but we are not with Dameon.”
The woman leaned forward in her chair. “Interesting . . . I apologize for my rough tone. My name is Ra’Nu, daughter of the Sheckem. If you are not with Dameon, then what brings you here?”
“Two reasons: the first is to return an artifact of importance to your people.” Cyrus lay the ancient sword on the table before her.
Ra’Nu stood, cupping a hand over her mouth. “I can’t believe it . . . it’s Wolfbane! It’s been gone for decades. How did you replace it?”
“We came across it while searching for your people,” Terra explained, “which brings us to the second reason why we’re here.”
“We came to stop Dameon,” Cyrus concluded. He let the words hang in the air as he studied the body language of the three Avenoxi. Ra’Nu gave a slight smile, but the two warriors bristled at the treasonous words.
Cyrus took a step forward. “Whatever he’s promised your father is a lie; his true purpose is to kidnap people for his experiments. In Cordova he turned them into . . . an army of fire walkers. Stripped of their humanity, they became his weapons to incinerate anyone who stands in his way.”
Ra’Nu stepped out from behind the table and stood before them. “That . . . that’s horrible,” her voice trailed off. “I knew he wasn’t a good man, but I had no idea . . .”
“Why does your father trust Dameon?” Keira asked curiously.
Ra’Nu sighed. “That’s what’s so troubling; I have no idea. Dameon showed up only a few days ago, yet my father acts like they’re old friends. Somehow Dameon has convinced the Sheckem to help him with his experiments.”
“Do you think we can convince him otherwise?”
Ra’Nu leaned against the table behind her. “I don’t think so. My father has been with Dameon in the temple for nearly two days, following him blindly. I tried speaking my mind, but my father wouldn’t hear it. When I stood in his way, he ordered his warriors to kill anyone approaching the temple.”
“I know,” Cyrus said. “We’ve spoken with the outer guards already. They are willing to let us pass, but they suggested you could help us with the warriors inside.”
Ra’Nu absentmindedly rubbed her arms. “Hmm. There might be a way . . . if we could get close enough, I might be able to use my power over my father.”
Cyrus waited for an explanation. Ra’Nu looked at them a moment, then a modest smile graced her lips.
“Right, you guys are outsiders. I should explain: if I have an object someone has touched in the last twenty-four hours, I can use my power to charm it. Once the object is charmed, anyone can use it to take over the person’s body that touched it. They can’t attack, or kill the person’s body, but they can do anything else.”
“Does everyone in the village have this power?” Terra asked.
“No, it’s an ability that is passed down in the women of my family.”
“So if you were to give me a charmed hair from one of your warriors, I could spend the day walking around in his body?” Cyrus asked.
“Yes. But you would have to touch the person to transfer your consciousness into their body. Once I have a charm, I can take over a body from twenty feet, but everyone else would need physical proximity.”
“How does this help us?”
“I could use my power to take over my father’s body and order our warriors to attack Dameon and his men. They wouldn’t stand a chance against our soldiers. But the trick is replaceing some item we’re sure my father has touched.”
Cyrus smiled. “I assume you have a plan for that already?”
Ra’Nu glanced away. “Er, yes. But this is the part that’s a little crazy.”
“After the last month I’ve been through, nothing’s too crazy,” Cyrus said. “Lay it on me.”
“One of the outsiders that came with Dameon is a man named Melvin. He runs supplies back and forth between the village and the temple, so he has full access to the temple courtyard. He is the only one they won’t attack on sight. If I can charm something of his, then you could take control of his body and get close enough to my father to swipe an object from him.”
Cyrus scratched his head. “Let me make sure I’ve got this. You want me steal something of Melvin’s so I can take over his body, then sneak into the temple unnoticed and take an item from your father . . . so that we can later take over the Sheckem?”
“Exactly. But make sure you talk to Melvin first—get to know his mannerisms so that they won’t suspect anything. I warn you, he’s . . . interesting.”
“Anything else I should know?”
Ra’Nu rubbed her elbows. “Umm . . . yes. If anyone suspects what you’re up to, they’ll kill you on the spot. And if you die in Melvin’s body, your mind will be lost forever . . .”
Cyrus shook his head in disbelief. “Great . . . And to think I used to go years at a time without these life and death stunts.”
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