Chapter Fifty-Four
The Thin Line Between Life and Death
Arcane Cherries were a peculiar piece of magic. They were a small red fruit planted in the depths of Black Soil, a kind of dirt which was masterfully altered by Legacies with flora-centred Arcancy and grown from the coldest night of winter until the lightest day of summer. They were not watered, rather they were attended to very carefully, and fed Arcancy by the person who planted them, and only that person, for exactly thirteen seconds per day. What came of such an arduous process was an Arcane Cherry; a plump, bright, red fruit, though grape-like in shape was in fact as heavy as a nugget of gold.
Michael had much of this described to him as James took one from Rose, who apparently had one for each of them in the company. As he rolled it around in his hand, still wincing from pain, Rose and Carter bombarded him with a number of questions which Michael was too anxious to hear. Before long, James popped the strange little fruit in his mouth, winking to his friend as he bit down.
James swallowed, and before anything else could happen he laid himself down flat on the ground and looked Michael sharply in the face. “Repeat after me, okay?”
The instruction in his voice calmed him but still Michael’s nerves were frayed as he nodded. “Okay.”
“I’m completely fine,” the horizontal young man began.
Michael thought about being smug but resisted temptation. “James is completely fine.”
“Everything about to happen, is going to be fine,” James continued, trying not to smile.
Michael, irate by his levity, repeated his sentence with a slight tone.
James smiled more genuinely this time and said, “Okay, take a step back, love.”
Michael smirked and started repeating, “Okay, take a step-” when the young man on the ground clamped his eyes shut and began writhing in pain on the cold stone.
Michael shot toward him but Nichole and Carter grabbed him first. They held him back as gently as they could and Nichole urged, “You can’t touch him.”
Michael looked past her and watched in horror as every single one of James’ veins came to the surface of his skin and all his muscles became as rigid as steel. They glowed like the coals of a fireplace and slowly the light pooled to different areas his body, some moving to the lower section bone of his left thigh and the rest amassing at his ribs.
Carter took Michael’s hand tightly. “He’s okay. He’s okay.”
It was that moment more than perhaps anything else which made Michael remember he wasn’t in a faerie-tale. In faerie-tales, friends didn’t have to watch friends cry out in agony. In faerie-tales, monsters didn’t mutilate or break anyone, even when they got close to killing them. It was dramatic but never gruesome. In faerie-tales there was always something you could do, and if you couldn’t, you at least got to hold their hand while you could do nothing at all.
Carter looked sideways at Michael and said firmly, “It’s edible Restoration Magic. Completely safe.”
Michael said nothing.
Oliver stood there for some time watching the young man and looked to the others around them. “You lot ever had to take a Cherry?”
Sarah nodded grimly. She untucked her sweat-soaked shirt and gestured to a small, pale scar on her ribs, the size of a fingernail. “Training accident. Remember when we used to put crates and barrels in the Arena? I got thrown through a wooden box and a piece of timber basically went through me. Pierced my lung.”
Aroha winced. “I remember hearing about that.”
Oliver nodded and pulled down his shirt-collar to reveal two tatooed rings under his collarbone which Michael had mistaken as freckles. “First I slipped off the Obstacle Course and shattered a knee. And then... what was it... oh right- I caught a training sword in the knuckle and it broke three fingers.”
Nichole turned angrily to him. “You used a Cherry to fix some broken fingers?”
Oliver sighed at her reaction and said gently, “It was the day before that mission to Aega, remember? I’m a swordsman. Without fingers, I can’t fight. In hindsight, admittedly, you’re right... but, what can I say? It was important to me.”
Nichole tempered her anger somewhat though still looked sour.
Michael frowned and nodded to the marks under Oliver’s collarbone. “Tattoos? Do you all have them?”
Carter and Nichole both pulled on their collars, displaying one small mark each tattooed in the same spot. Carter’s mark was a tally, whereas Nichole had a small dot.
Aroha gave an uneven shake of her head, as if to say Not Arcane-Cherry-related ones. Magnus did too, though far more smugly. Oliver had his two rings and Sarah had a small ‘x’ under her collarbone.
Michael nodded rather calmly to each of them before turning his gaze quite chillingly to Carter and pointing his finger at him. “You told me you got that on a drunk dare.”
Carter mouthed sorry, half-smiling.
“Why do you need them tattooed?” Michael asked, still glancing at his friend.
Oliver scratched his head a tad awkwardly. “Well, because you can only have three. And if you’re injured and aren’t able to articulate that you’ve already had three in the past... then it’ll kill you to ingest another.”
Michael glanced at James and Carter straightaway waved his hands to disperse any of his anxieties. “James is lucky enough for this to be his first time.”
The Legacies waited for the better part of half an hour before James finally stopped seizing up. His body went limp and splayed out over the floor as Carter and Michael shuffled hurriedly to his side.
Carter gently touched the young man’s face as everyone gathered around and spoke his name softly, as though trying to rouse him.
Michael shook his head. “Oi, you bastard, wake up!”
James did not open his eyes, instead he raised his injured leg stiffly into the air and pointed his toe like ballet dancer. “Fixed,” he muttered, groggily.
*****
After double-checking that he was in good enough condition, James and the other Legacies continued their long trek once more. After several hours, they’d all come to the same daunting conclusion.
They’d been walking too long.
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Soon after, the torches brought by Nichole and Aroha had burnt out. The group decided to spare Michael’s Arcancy in case something unfriendly saw the glow, so they trekked in the dark.
Magnus peered into the gloom ahead after a long bout of silence and stopped. “I feel something. A breeze.” He levelled his dark, obsidian bladed-scythe out in front of him.
The other Legacies came to attack-positions, unable to see what he could, and watched as Magnus stepped into the thicker curtain of shadow ahead of them.
Aroha grabbed for the pale warrior but he was just too far out of reach. “Magnus, stop!” she whispered harshly.
They inched cautiously after him into the darkness to find him in front of a flat, stone wall with two arcing entryways leading deep down in different directions; one left and one right. Both doorways were identical and without the slightest scratch or mark of a pickaxe, looking far more like they’d been shaped by hands, oddly smooth on every edge and face.
Michael lowered his bow in confusion and glanced from the left door to the right. In the deep shadows of the cavern, virtually nothing about them was distinguishable and they both looked utterly endless in the dark.
Magnus turned and muttered, “I’ll take the left. Someone else take right. Meet back here in five minutes.” And with that he stepped into the crushing darkness, vanishing from their sight before anyone could say a word.
Michael looked tiredly to the others and said, “Any volunteers?”
Aroha looked ready to say something smug when her brow furrowed and she quickly shouted, “I don’t think that’s going to be an issue!” and held up her necklace, practically glowing with frost.
Michael and several of the others looked to their pendants to realise they’d not been placed back under their shirts following the Nithe attack and were in fact radiating wisps of ice atop their leather armour.
Magnus exploded back out from the door he’d gone through a moment before and shouted, “Shade Wolf scouts!”
Hot on his heels was a pack of dark, four-legged creatures with long snouts and fur that shifted like an evening shadow. They snapped and snarled with gnashing black teeth and eyes white as bone.
A dozen hounds erupted into the space before they could so much as react.
One leapt with its jaws snapping and Michael threw his open palm. Light erupted, smashing into the Shade Hound like one of Sarah’s punches, turning it to dust instantly. Michael held onto the orb of Starfire and everyone crammed in on his sides, weapons on.
The hounds snarled and snapped by the aura kept them at bay as they circled around the company.
In the back of his mind, Michael heard the sound of a whistle but paid it no mind as he began fumbling for an arrow.
After a second of being stunned, one or two of the Shae Hounds began to push forward. Michael turned and beamed the light in their direction, but as soon as he showed his back another would creep forward in his blind spot.
Michael turned and rained light on one pair of ravenous beasts when another took its chance. It leapt forward and Oliver slammed his sword through it in a plume of grey dust. Another took advantage of the chaos and snapped out but Sarah’s leg came alive with blue flame and she mule-kicked it hard through the chest, sending it hurtling back into the dark.
A rumble of thunder purred in the distance and Sarah felt the hairs on her neck stand up. “Everyone down!”
The Legacies dove to the floor as a flash of green lighting burned overhead and the cavern was filled with the sound of croaking roars and whimpering barks.
Michael barely opened his eyes, still instinctively shielding his head, to see Raeken in the mix, his scales spiked up like the hackles on a cat. Michael’s jaw dropped as the dragon heaved a spraying mouthful of bright yellow acid across five wolves at once, turning them almost instantly to dark sludge. Another leapt onto his back, sinking its shadowy fangs into his scales but Raeken simply threw his wings down, propelled himself up and slammed straight into the cave ceiling, crushing the wolf to dust.
The dust rained down and everyone leapt back but Michael was too stunned by the display.
The last of the hounds turned to run and Drakonian swooped down on top of it. Stillness returned after Raeken clamped down his jaw on the creature’s skull and muffled crack echoed in the dark.
Michael coughed out a lungful of dust and looked to Sarah. “Useful friend.”
Oliver sheathed his iron and was looking to the mess around them when his face went pale as the moon. “If these are Nikereus’ Shade Hounds, are they going to reform? Like the ones on arrival did?”
They group stared anxiously at the piles of muck and grain, their hands on their weapons. After a long minute, they watched as the essence began seeping back into the cave floor like sand between fingers and everyone let out a palpable sigh of relief.
Nichole slotted her readied arrow back into its quiver. “Whatever dark magic Nikereus is using, this squadron mustn’t have been doused with it yet.”
Aroha kicked over a small pile and muttered, “Let’s hope so.”
Raeken took the statement as his permission to relax and ambled over toward Sarah. She ruffled the scales behind his ear, smiling sweetly as he croaked softly in his reptilian tongue, his yellow cat-eyes glowing in the dark.
Michael watched the monstrous gravel as it etched its way into the ground. He’d seen it a number of times before and had a handful of questions but decided they could wait as he made sure his friends were uninjured.
Magnus stuck his head through the doorway again and brought his palm out in front of him. From the creases in his hand grew a pearlescent light which he cast into the depths of what turned out to be a small barracks room.
Michael blinked, thinking the demonic boy was the last person in Fort Guardian that he’d have thought to be a light-conjurer. “You have Starfire?” he asked, as a small aching began to bloom on his shoulders and scalp. He ignored it. “Anything interesting in there?”
Magnus snapped off the light and said, “Not to me, but I’m sure you find wet paint interesting so feel free to take a look.”
Michael smiled nastily. “Oh good, I thought you might be mellowing out. Were you feeling sentimental before?”
Magnus shook his head. His eyes were a bright red. “Whatever gets you moving.”
James took a step forward and Michael placed a hand on his chest as Magnus grinned widely. “Don’t let this prick get a rise out of you.”
The ache grew slightly tighter in Michael’s scalp.
“Oh, go ahead, Taylor,” Magnus said to James, his smile bright but without a wisp of humour. Magnus’ hand wrapped around the dark handle of his scythe. “Say what you want to say.”
Nichole stepped to Michael’s side and yelled, “Knock it off! We have a job to do, and the quicker we do it, the quicker we don’t have to see each other again.”
Michael gestured to her in agreement and turned sharply to Magnus. “She’s right. Can we just get on...with...” Michael blinked as a pain flourished in his head and shoulders and his face became a tight mask of pain. He wanted to speak but he was so overwhelmed with confusion that he couldn’t make a sound.
“Michael?” Nichole asked, unsure if she should touch him.
“Sparky? Can you hear me? What’s wrong?” James begged.
Carter looked from his friend to Magnus and pulled a dagger.
Michael became so tight with pain that he collapsed to the ground and Magnus cackled so much he practically bent over.
Sarah drew her sword too and Carter grabbed him by his collar and placed the point against of his dagger on his throat. His face was cold as iron and his familiar, easy smile was a distant memory.
Raeken’s low rumbling echoed off the cavern wall as he glared holes through Magnus, waiting for any indication from Sarah to tear out his throat.
Magnus looked up as the blade touched him and his laughter stopped but his eyes glittered. His hand tightened on his own weapon as he glanced from Carter to Sarah to her beast.
Michael writhed on the ground as the pain began to sear from his flesh all the way through to the bones in his shoulders and the very plate of his skull. He could hear the splintering cracks deep in his ears as he began to cry out in gargles of anguish.
Oliver, Aroha, and Nichole crowded around him urgently. Oliver placed a hand on his head, tilting his face up, “Michael, can you hear- dear gods.” He withdrew the hand, completely wet with fresh blood. “Oh, Rii above and Thall below…”
Sarah’s sword came alight with blue flame. The colour danced in her hard eyes. “Release him from whatever this is… now, or I’ll carve you open from your ankles to your lips and make you watch while I start removing organs.”
Magnus cocked his head at her and his smug façade cracked slightly as he saw no single moment of posturing in the sentence. He huffed and shook his head. “I didn’t touch him. You forgot to dust him. He’s being Shredded.”
Sarah’s flames went out and her eyes widened in horror. Carter let Magnus go and dropped to Michael’s side.
Michael’s screams echoed throughout the hallway as Rose ripped into her bag and pulled out another Arcane Cherry and Oliver helped open his mouth. He felt a sharp and horrible piercing pain followed by the vacuum of his breath. He tried to breathe but nothing happened. A pressure was building inside his chest, like someone was pushing on his ribs from the inside. He began coughing and gagging in the darkness, choking to death as the berry was pushed between his clamped teeth.
Michael tried to cry out but only succeeded in spitting a mouthful of blood over himself. Unable to breath, move or speak, his eyes darkened as someone’s hand clutched hard around his before letting go.
He felt the cold stone floor beneath his back.
Then nothing.
And then fire in his veins.