Penelope and Philip stared out into the darkness but could discern little. It had been ten minutes since he had burst into her room and alerted her to the aura but once again, it had vanished. Was she keeping her distance?
“Are you sure you didn’t just dream it?” Penelope asked, rubbing her eyes, “you did seem stressed about trying to conjure fire tomorrow.”
“I was sure I felt it,” he said, biting his lip but plagued by doubt.
“Maybe you’re just lonely,” Penelope said as a sly smile crossed her face. “Is Grace pretty?”
“That’s not it,” Philip snapped. He was cut short by the bleating of goats from the vegetable garden.
“Sounds like the goats got out again,” he sighed. “Let’s get them back into their shelter and go back to sleep.”
“Why don’t you just deal with them in the morning?” Penelope asked.
“I’m having a hard enough time as it is getting to sleep without them bleating outside the window,” Philip replied as he walked towards the door. “Besides, we don’t want all our work on that shelter to be for nought.”
Philip opened the door and stepped out into the night sky. He paused as he saw movement in the corner of his eye. “What?” he managed to blurt and then he saw the glint of steel and froze.
The knife would have sliced through his neck had Philip not been tugged backwards just then. He stumbled and fell on his behind and looked up in time to see Penelope extend her arm over him. The hand glowed red and a heartbeat later, a red gout of flame erupted from it, sending Philip into a panic.
“Don’t do this to me now, Philip,” Penelope said through gritted teeth as he froze on the ground, paralyzed by the sight of the flames.
She grabbed him by the shirt and tugged him out of the doorway and back into the cabin before sending another two foot jet of flame out the door.
“I could really use your help here,” she said as he looked up at her helplessly. “I don’t think I’ve been able to hit him yet.”
She sent another jet of flame out of the open door and scurried over to the opposite wall of the cabin.
“Get ready to run,” she cried as Philip tried to make sense of what was going on.
In a daze, he scrambled to his feet as Penelope placed her hand a few inches away from the opposite wall. She cursed as a sudden force blew out a small hole in the wall.
“Come on!” she urged as she sent another gout of flame out towards the front door. “We need to hurry!”
Philip gathered his wits as adrenaline took over and dove headfirst through the hole in the wall. He looked around. The coast seemed clear enough. Penelope was close behind. She cursed again as she placed her hand through the hole she had just made.
“Get down!” she cried.
Philip hurled himself to the ground and closed his eyes as Penelope created an inferno inside the house. He heard an explosion and lifted his head to see that the windows and roof had been blown out.
“Our home,” he said softly.
“We need to run,” Penelope cried. “Get to the cave!”
She half dragged Philip off the ground and together, they took to their heels in the direction of the river with Philip in the lead and Penelope bringing up the rear. As they ran across the glade, Philip felt thoroughly exposed. As they drew nearer to the trees, he heard Penelope cry out in pain. He turned to see her clutching her shoulder as she stumbled. She cursed and turned around, and Philip averted his gaze reflexively as she unleashed another gout of flame behind her. If only they had an aeromancer, he thought fervently, then Penelope wouldn’t be limited to short gouts of flame. If they had an aeromancer, the range of her flames could be extended tenfold or more or she would be able to toss fireballs even further than that.
“Go!” she cried, and soon Philip was out of the glade and among the trees with Penelope hot on his heels.
As they crashed through the trees, Philip didn’t dare look anywhere but straight ahead until he heard Penelope gasp. He turned around in time to see her stumble and fall to the ground. He came to a halt to see a shadowy figure moving through the trees, approaching them quickly. His eyes met Penelope’s briefly, and he knew right away what she was going to do, but the flames did not come right away. Penelope feigned weakness and waited until their opponent was almost upon them before unleashing a gout of flame so bright that it briefly turned night in the forest into day.
Philip looked up and felt weak at the knees as he saw a man clad in black on fire from the waist up. He approached them menacingly, careless of the flames that engulfed him until eventually, he succumbed to them and fell to his knees just feet away from them with a dagger still clutched in his hand.
“We need to go,” Penelope gasped and pulled Philip away who could not avert his eyes from the flames as they consumed the man’s body.
She gasped as she half dragged him to the river and dropped him in the water. The shock broke Philip out of his panic as the forest burned just out of his line of sight.
“Have you got your wits about you?” Penelope demanded as they paused to rest.
Philip swallowed and nodded. The forest burned to their left, casting eerie shadows about them, and in the flickering light, he could see a crossbow bolt had struck Penelope in the shoulder.
“You’re wounded,” he gasped.
Penelope winced and clutched her shoulder as the adrenaline wore off. “I’ll manage,” she said. “We need to carry on.”
“Why?” Philip asked. “You’ve killed him, we both saw him die.”
“Borundian Shadows always work in pairs,” Penelope said. “Or so I’ve heard. Besides, we’ve not seen any sign of your friend either.”
Philip concentrated for the first time since they had come under attack and tried to find Grace’s aura but could not.
“Do you think…” Philip’s voice trailed off as he didn’t dare give voice to what he was thinking.
“It’s most likely that she’s here to kill you,” Penelope said flatly. “The assassin back there is proof enough of that.”
Philip’s mind went to Grace and all the time they had spent together at the Academy and found it hard to believe that she was here as an enemy. Yet that assassin earlier had meant to kill him. That much was for certain.
“You’re burning up,” Philip observed, noticing that Penelope had increased her body temperature considerably.
“It’s just a precaution,” Penelope replied.
“Against what?” Philip wondered.
“We need to go,” Penelope said, brushing the question off and looking back towards the glade. “Now.”
Philip put Penelope’s arm around his shoulder and together, they made their way upstream. Their progress was slowed as they waded up the middle of the river for as long as they could at her insistence to shake off the pursuers that she was sure would be after them. Her strength waned rapidly, and he was practically carrying her on his shoulder by the time they reached the cave.
“Are you sure this is wise?” Philip asked as he prepared to enter the cave.
“This is as good a place for a last stand as I can think of,” Penelope replied. “I can only hope they’re stupid enough to follow us in.”
Philip looked over his shoulder at the dark stains Penelope’s blood had left in the ground which was visible under the starlight and couldn’t help but worry about his master’s wound.
“Then why were we walking through the river?” Philip asked.
“Well best case is we lose them,” she allowed. “But if nothing else I wanted to buy us some time.”
Philip looked at the cave hesitantly, and then at the way they came, imagining an enemy hiding behind every tree.
“Before we go in,” Penelope said, looking up at Philip. “You’re going to have to pull this bolt out.”
Philip looked at the bolt sticking out of Penelope’s flesh and felt sick. He swallowed and held it firmly. A gasp escaped Penelope’s lips as he touched it.
“Get it done in one go if you can,” Penelope said through gritted teeth.
Philip nodded and tried to get a firm grip on the blood slick bolt.
“Ready?” he asked.
Penelope braced herself against a rock and nodded.
Philip tugged with all his might, and Penelope drew blood as she bit her hand to prevent herself from crying out, and with a mighty effort, the bolt came free. Philip threw it into the cave to hide it before focusing his power on his hand until it became hot enough to cauterize her wound. Penelope went limp in his arms as he pressed his palm against her wound and the smell of seared flesh turned his stomach.
Penelope was barely conscious once he was done, and Philip knew he could not waste her sacrifice by waiting around here. He suppressed a shudder as he entered the cave first, moving backwards as he dragged Penelope along by her armpits. Progress slowed down considerably once they reached the section with the lowered roof. Somehow, Philip managed to drag Penelope while crawling backwards and eventually, they reached the chamber. Philip helped Penelope sit close to the fissure and found that she was burning up.
“Here, drink some of this,” he said, scooping some of the water on the floor with his hand and holding it to Penelope’s lips she drank a little before choking and coming to her senses.
“We’re here,” she croaked weakly as she looked around. “Good.”
“You should rest,” Philip said, trying to keep the worry from his voice. He noticed he was shivering and held her tight as he used his power to warm his body up like he had at the mountain.
“Your… your friend will know we’re here if you do… do that,” she protested weakly.
“You said it’d be best if we lured them here,” Philip pointed out.
“That’s right,” she said, shivering as she spoke. “I did, didn’t I?”
Philip did his best to regulate his power and keep his fears in check as he worked to keep himself and his master warm.
“You know, I will be most disappointed if Frederick is helping our attackers,” Penelope said half to herself.
“He wouldn’t,” Philip offered, in an attempt to raise her spirits. “He would have dealt with us in the town if he was against us.”
Penelope looked at the tunnel from which they came for a while before trying to move her wounded shoulder, wincing as she did so.
“Philip,” she said at length. “Remember my promise to you?”
Philip had to think about it for a moment. “That you would train me?”
Penelope shook her head. “That I would kill you if I couldn’t teach you how to manipulate flame.”
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“Oh,” Philip said, strangely ambivalent about the prospect of Penelope murdering him here.
“If I don’t survive this, I will trust you to get over your fear and master it on your own,” she continued. “I know you can if you put your mind to it.”
Philip looked at her, alarmed. “Where’s this talk of not surviving coming from?”
“I’m afraid the bolt was poisoned,” she said with a weak smile. “I made my skin as hot as I could when I saw him holding the crossbow, but I’m afraid it wasn’t enough to neutralize the poison.”
“What should I do?” Philip asked, aghast.
“I don’t think there’s anything to be done,” Penelope sighed. “I can feel myself getting weaker by the minute.”
Philip didn’t know what to say and tears were streaming down his face now. He felt helpless that his master was dying right in front of him and there was nothing he could do about it. Then came the guilt. If he had never met her, she would not be in this state. He should have died at Gelt’s Pass.
“Don’t blame yourself for what’s happened,” Penelope continued. “The short time I spent with you in this glade was the best I’ve had since I deserted.”
“But if I hadn’t come, you would still be living your idyllic life in the glade,” Philip wept.
“My life wasn’t idyllic, or even happy since I came here,” she said as she turned her head weakly to look Philip in the eye. “Don’t become so consumed by your guilt that you decide to waste your life living like a hermit. The dead won’t care.”
“I’m sorry,” was all Philip could say. “I’m sorry for bringing this upon you.”
“Promise me,” Penelope said, her voice gaining strength. “Promise me that you will conquer your fear and master the flame and then live on your own terms.”
Philip shook his head, cursing his weakness and not wanting to lie to his master but at the same time afraid to disappoint her in what might be her final moments.
“Promise me,” Penelope said, gripping Philip’s arm tight.
“I promise,” Philip said, knowing it was a promise he could not keep and hating himself for it.
“Good,” Penelope said. She held up a hand and a small flame appeared in it, emitting a warm glow that illuminated the room.
“If you go down that fissure, it leads to a small tunnel that’ll take you back to the river,” she said. “If I can’t deal with your pursuers here, I want you to take the mountain path back into Morovin.”
“I won’t know the way,” Philip protested helplessly. “And what would I do once I get there?”
“You’ll make it,” Penelope smiled weakly. She looked around the cavern and forced herself to speak. “If you get the chance, go get my coins before you go, buy yourself a mill in Morovin, live the life you want. If you can’t, I’m sure you’ll find a way to survive...”
Philip shook his head. “You should rest and stop with this ill-omened talk.”
“If I close my eyes, I might never open them again,” Penelope said with a grim smile. “Talking is all that’s keeping me going now.”
“It’s a good thing the goats got out,” Philip remarked, blinking back tears as he forced himself to sound cheerful. “This way won’t have to worry about starving when we leave.”
“I suppose that’s true,” Penelope said as her voice trailed off.
As they chatted about things that needed to be done in the glade, light began to shine down from the hole in the ceiling, signalling the arrival of dawn. The cavern was illuminated now, and Philip could see that Penelope was deathly pale.
“Good, that will help them pick up our trail,” Penelope said weakly. “They’d better hurry, I don’t have long left.”
“Nonsense,” Philip said, trying to sound confident. “They will come, and the mighty Penelope the Red will deal with them, and then we’ll force them to give up the antidote.”
They both knew that there was little chance of any of that happening, but Penelope simply smiled weakly.
“Don’t you think you’re putting too much on an old woman’s shoulders?” she croaked. “I’m wounded, you know?”
“It’s only a scratch,” Philip smiled, careless of the tears that streamed down his face.
Their conversation stopped as they felt Grace’s aura approach. It approached cautiously and came to a halt just outside the cave.
“Here they come,” Penelope warned. “Once I’ve dealt with our assailants here, you must hide your aura before going down that fissure and keep hiding it for as long as you can.”
“What are you planning?” Philip asked, fearing the answer.
“Do you understand?” Penelope demanded.
Philip could only nod. Summoning the last of her strength, Penelope staggered over to the entrance of the chamber as Philip moved closer to the fissure.
“Philip of Rickton,” came a voice from down the tunnel. It echoed off the walls of the chamber making it difficult to tell how far away it was.
Penelope looked at Philip and gestured for him to answer.
“Go away!” Philip said after thinking for a moment. “All I want is to be left alone.”
“Surrender now and you will not be harmed here,” the voice said, “you will be brought back to Antere to stand trial for your crimes.”
Penelope shook her head, indicating to Philip that the man’s words were lies.
“Just leave me alone,” Philip shouted down the tunnel. “I didn’t mean for all those people to die.”
“Philip?” it was Grace’s voice this time and Philip felt his heart leap into his throat.
“Grace?” Philip replied, feigning surprise. “How did you find me here?”
From her aura, Philip could tell that Grace was not inside the cave. The question now was where the remaining assassin and any other companions she might have been.
“That’s not important,” Grace replied. “You must come with us to Antere to answer for your crimes.”
“It was an accident,” Philip called back. “It was an accident...”
“I went to Gelt’s Pass,” she continued. “I saw what you did there, surely you realize that what you did there can’t go unpunished!”
Philip knew she was right and debated asking Penelope to stand down. Perhaps he could negotiate an antidote for her in exchange for his surrender. He was about to tell Penelope he was willing to give himself up when he felt her aura grow in strength. Her eyes glowed bright red as she accumulated all her remaining power and held it in her hands.
“Get out!” Grace shouted to the man in the tunnel and soon, the entire chamber was engulfed in flames.
To Philip’s surprise, the flames did not incite terror in him. Instead, he found them warm and comforting. Penelope looked at him and smiled as the flames picked up in intensity.
“Master no!” he shouted as the flames swirled around the cavern.
The flames grew in intensity until they began to singe even him. He looked up and saw his master’s skin was beginning to char and blister. The look on her face seemed to implore him to do something as she struggled to keep the inferno going. He could feel the strength of her aura grow erratic as she began to run out of strength. In a moment of clarity, Philip understood and hid his aura. Penelope smiled at him one last time before collapsing into a charred heap. Philip rushed over to her and found that she was not breathing. Her body seemed so small as it lay on the floor of the cavern.
Grief began to overtake him, but he determined not to waste his master’s final gift to him. Moving quickly, he plunged into the inky blackness of the fissure. Unable to see anything, but trusting his master’s final instructions, he continued crawling blindly down it, mourning her death as he went and feeling very alone. He wondered if his master’s sacrifice had dealt with the remaining assassin… and Grace…
Water trickled from the ceiling onto his body as he crawled over jagged rocks, cutting up his arms and knees as he went. He almost got wedged a few times as the tunnel narrowed occasionally but he pressed on with reckless abandon, careless of the pain. He had lost track of how long he’d been crawling when a shaft of light appeared up ahead. He crawled up to the mouth of the tunnel and found himself back at the river. He looked at it for a while as he tried to decide his next move.
The inferno at the chamber had left him naked once again. His skin was a little singed, but it was nothing compared to the times he had lost control of his power. However, he could not turn up in town naked as he was. Not to mention that it was likely that people would be waiting for him there. The mountains were also out unless he could secure some clothes at the very least which meant he had to return to the cabin. The cabin his master had destroyed. There would be no choice but to see what was left. However, if any of his pursuers had survived the fire at the chamber, they would almost certainly be waiting for him there.
Dangerous as returning to the cabin was, he didn’t see what other options he had. Did he have it in him if it came to a fight? He contemplated allowing his power to flow briefly so that he could discover where Grace was if she had survived the inferno at the cave, but then she too would be able to detect him and direct her companion towards him.
Deciding this line of thought was futile and realizing he could not suppress his aura for much longer, he decided to make his way back towards the cabin. Whatever his next move, he would have to get his clothes.
He crept out of the cave, keeping a close eye on either bank upstream. Based on the height of the sun, he had spent the last two or so hours crawling through that tunnel and his assailants could be anywhere by now. As the adrenaline wore off, he became aware he was soaked to the bone and very cold.
Cautiously, Philip followed the river downstream, moving quickly in an attempt to warm up his freezing limbs. When he thought he had given the cave a wide enough berth, he cut west, towards the glade. He sensed no signs of danger as he made his way through the familiar woods. He soon came across the glade and saw that the cabin’s walls were more or less intact. The roof, however, was missing, as were all the shutters over the windows.
Seeing the cabin again reminded him of Penelope and the times they had shared there. He took a moment to fight the rising feeling of grief and told himself there would be plenty of time to mourn her later.
He scrutinised every corner of the glade, keeping his eyes peeled for any enemies that might be hiding in the shadows. Seeing none and feeling he was at the limit of his ability to keep his aura suppressed, he allowed the orb in his chest to warm up. With his power returning, he tried to sense Grace’s aura and was relieved that he could not detect her.
Would he be glad if it turned out she was dead? She was out to kill him, after all. And after all the years they’d spent together at the Academy too, came the bitter afterthought. Also, just because you can’t sense her doesn’t mean there aren’t still enemies about, he reminded himself.
Steeling his resolve and dismissing such distractions from his thoughts, he crept out of the tree line and crawled on his belly through the wild grass of the glade until he came to the cabin. He poked his head up and saw that the coast was clear and circled his way around to the yard where he swiftly retrieved a set of clothes from the drying line.
Once he was clothed again, he crept into the cabin to see what could be salvaged. Most of the food was burnt to a crisp but the cooking tools were fine. He decided against carrying them with him for now and was about to leave when he remembered something. He made his way to Penelope’s room and found the chest she had shown him when they returned from Wood Edge was only lightly scorched. He opened it and retrieved Penelope’s coin pouch.
He felt a little guilty taking it, but it had been his master’s wish, and it would make his life a lot easier. The necessities secured, he decided to make his way to the cave to see if there were any survivors before returning to the cabin to see what could be salvaged. Salvaging what he could from the fields and vegetable garden would take time, and he wanted to be sure his enemies weren’t still lurking about as he went about his work.
Staying in the glade was out of the question without first making sure that his attackers were dead or at least driven off. He crept out of the cabin and crawled through the glade back to the tree line, keeping his senses sharpened for signs of danger. As he crawled, the mountains loomed in the distance and he tried to visualise his route over them in his head.
Philip made his way to the tree line and soon, he could hear the waterfalls up ahead. He briefly debated running off now. The prospect of being able to leisurely pick what he could from the cabin before making the trip over the mountains again was tempting, but the deciding factor was giving Penelope a proper burial. It was the very least he could do for her.
As he approached the cave, he came across the trail of blood Penelope had left, and his stomach turned. He took a moment to compose himself and followed it. Soon, he came to the cave, and his curiosity was piqued. The ground around the cave mouth was charred from Penelope’s sacrifice. There were several footprints all around the cave mouth, and more blood that was not Penelope’s, which suggested a scuffle had broken out here after his master’s death. Philip looked around but could find no signs of life.
The cave mouth seemed to watch Philip ominously as he approached. Hesitantly, he stepped inside. His heart pounded as he entered. A charred body lay just inside, its arm outstretched towards the exit. He deduced it was the second assassin, from the dagger still clutched in its burnt hand. Acting on a whim, he prized the dagger free and tucked it into his waistband. It then occurred to him that at no point did he sense Grace’s presence inside the cave, and he hadn’t seen a body outside the cave which meant Grace was probably still alive somewhere.
He felt a wave of relief wash over him at the thought of Grace being alive, which surprised him. With luck, she would have run back to Wood Edge for help which meant it would be at least three days until she returned. He made his way back to the chamber and found his master’s body where he had left it.
He was not particularly religious himself, but Philip said a silent prayer over his master’s body before carefully carrying it out of the chamber. He was forced to drag it through the lower parts of the tunnel with as much care as he could and cradled it gently as he emerged from the cave. Once outside, he looked his master over briefly under the afternoon sun. Her hair and clothes had all been burned off, and her skin had been charred black, but he could still make out the features of her face. She seemed so small now, curled up in his arms. He already knew how he wanted to send her off as he bore her slowly back towards the cabin.
When he arrived at the waterfalls, he felt something that made him stop in his tracks. His skin began to crawl as he focused on it, making sure it wasn’t his imagination. The aura of a Gifted he had not felt before coming from the glade and it was as real as the earth beneath his feet. They must have missed each other when he went back to the cave. Cautiously, he placed Penelope’s body in the undergrowth at the edge of the glade.
Were they in league with Grace? He didn’t sense her aura anymore. Did they kill her? Were they her enemies? Why would they come here to fight her? The aura didn’t move but his non Gifted allies could be approaching him already. Philip looked down at Penelope’s body and wondered what he should do. What would she do?
Philip took a deep breath and backed away from the aura until he could no longer feel it. He then suppressed his aura and circled back in the direction of the glade, moving unerringly from cover to cover through the familiar woods. As he approached the glade, he could hear someone shouting from the edge of the woods. He paused and focused.
“Philip of Rickton, we are from the Kingdom of Morovin and we have an offer for you!” shouted a man standing facing the woods. “We wish you no harm, only to speak!”
Philip considered what the man was saying as he repeated his offer. In the distance, he noticed three other men spread out and facing the woods, presumably shouting the same thing. He decided to skirt around the man and see what was going on at the cabin where he had noticed a group of people had gathered.
He crept through the tall grass in the glade quickly, knowing he could not suppress his aura for much longer. His brain screamed at him to run, but his curiosity compelled him towards the cabin to at least take a look at this new group of people. He poked his head up as high as he dared and looked at the people gathered near the cabin. Among them was a short barrel chested man in bare feet. He wore a green robe and Philip assumed he was the Gifted whose aura he had sensed earlier. There was a woman among the group of five.
Philip blinked, not believing his eyes at first. It was Grace. Her hands were bound behind her back and she had been stripped to the waist, exposing her chest. A seal was scrawled onto the skin of her bare chest. He held his breath as the geomancer’s eyes glowed green. Moments later, Philip thought he felt the ground underneath tremble slightly. A smile crept over the geomancer’s face and he turned to say something to an armour clad man standing next to him while pointing straight at Philip.
Before Philip could move, the armour clad man turned and looked right at him before saying, “Philip of Rickton, we come in peace. We have a proposal for you.”