Chapter 3

Osric plunged deeper into the forest, pushing himself as fast as he could without breaking his neck by stumbling over a root or a stone. He was still in the section of the forest familiar to him. He’d wandered through this section many times over the years, but that had always been in daylight. Things looked very different when it was pitch-black. Maybe if he had a torch or lantern to guide him, he would recognize his landmarks, but he dared not light anything. Not with those men out there, searching for him.

The darkness only amplified his fears. Every snap of a branch or rustle of a leaf sent his pulse racing, afraid that they’d found him. Osric slowed as more moonlight shone through the tree canopy. He wasn’t a woodsman by any stretch of the imagination, but he’d spent enough time in the forest to know that it meant he was coming up to a road.

Moments later, he stepped through the thick underbrush onto one of the roads that crisscrossed through the forest, leading from small village to small village. He looked in both directions. Seeing no one, he quickly crossed and headed toward the thick underbrush on the far side. He had gone no more than a thirty meters when he nearly collided with a cloaked figure suddenly emerging from behind a wide oak.

Osric stumbled back, hand flying to the hilt of his sword. The figure let out a startled gasp and dropped the bundle they had been carrying. As the bundle spilled open, the flickering light of a small lantern in the person’s hand illuminated a familiar face framed by wild red curls.

“Talia!” Osric said, breathing out in surprise and relief.

“Osric?” Talia whispered back. “What are you doing out here?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he said.

Instead of replying, she stepped back, looking him up and down, taking in his disheveled appearance. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Has something happened?”

“It’s ... it’s a long story.”

Talia kneeled to gather up the spilled herbs and roots she had dropped, packing them back into her basket.

“Right. We shouldn’t stay out for long. Miriam gets angry if I’m on the road too late, but I was delayed, and ... it doesn’t matter. Do you want to walk with me back to the village?”

Osric hesitated, his eyes darting back to the trees. “I can’t go back to the village, Talia. Elder Miriam told me to flee into the woods and hide. She said it wasn’t safe.”

“What? Why would she say that? Did something happen?”

“It’s ... complicated. I ran into some trouble. A strange man was in the village, asking about someone finding something old, special, maybe in the forest. I tried to go back to Master Ironhand’s, but he followed me, demanding I hand the ‘artifact’ over. When I refused, he tried to take the ring by force. We struggled, and in desperation, I grabbed the ring. It ... it unleashed some kind of magical energy. There was a blinding glow, and when it faded, the man had been reduced to ash.”

Osric and Talia both spun around at the sound of snapping twigs behind them. Two dark shapes emerged from the brush on the other side of the road. As they stepped into the faint glow of Talia’s lantern, Osric’s gut twisted with dread.

“Bandits,” she said under her breath in surprise.

Osric knew they weren’t bandits. He recognized the heavy black cloaks, tall boots, and swords at the men’s waists. They were dressed like the stranger from the village.

“Thought you could run from us,” one of the men said with a high-pitched sneer.

“I wasn’t ... we’re just travelers. Please, I just want to continue on my way,” Osric said.

“Aww, you hear that, Kaelen? He wants to continue on his way,” the first man said.

“You aren’t going anywhere, boy,” the larger bandit, presumably Kaelen, said. “We heard what you said and we know what you’re carrying, and you’re going to hand it over or we’re going to take it off your corpse.”

“Run,” he said to Talia. “Tell Elder Miriam...”

“Oh, she’s not going anywhere,” the smaller man said, pulling his sword. “Neither of you are.”

Osric’s hand clenched around the hilt of his sword. He’d only been in one fight, and that hadn’t gone well for anyone. Pulling the sword, he stepped away from Talia, in front of her, in the vain hope he could somehow protect her. He braced himself, sword held out before him with both hands, like Master Ironhand had shown him.

The smaller man moved in first, a cruel grin on his face. He lunged forward, slashing high with his sword. Osric parried, metal clanging off metal, as he stepped back to avoid the blow. The man pressed on, raining down quick strikes that Osric struggled to block.

Out of the corner of his eye, Osric saw the larger man, the one who’d been called Kaelen, moving to get around him. Osric shoved back hard, pushing his opponent off balance before spinning to face the new threat. Kaelen’s sword came sweeping low. Osric jumped back, the tip just missing his stomach.

Regaining his footing, the smaller man renewed his attack. Osric found himself driven back, a blade cutting across his stomach, not deep, but leaving a red line in its wake and pain searing through him.

“No!” Talia screamed.

Dropping her basket, she began moving her hands in an intricate pattern; her left hand held up with three fingers splayed. Her right hand moved in a quick circle in front of the outstretched fingers, tracing a glowing path in the air. As the circling hand completed its rotation, Talia thrust it forward. Three glowing bolts of light sprang from her outstretched palm, shooting forth in a straight trajectory toward Kaelen.

The bolts flew in rapid succession, trailing comet-like tails as they raced through the air. Kaelen had no time to react before the missiles slammed into his chest one after another, sending him flying backward, slamming into a tree before collapsing, unmoving, to the forest floor.

Osric stared at Talia in disbelief as the magic bolts flew from her hand, felling the large attacker.

Distracted, he was a moment too slow in raising his sword as the smaller man lunged forward, driving his sword deep into Osric’s chest. Pain exploded through him as the blade pierced his body. Osric cried out, the sword falling from his suddenly numb fingers. He sank to his knees as the man yanked the blade free in a spray of crimson.

Clutching the gushing wound, Osric fell back, dimly aware of Talia rushing to his side. She caught him, lowering him gently as his lifeblood spilled out onto the forest floor. Osric’s vision tunneled, the pain receding as shock set in.

Above him, the man who had run him through stood grinning wickedly, blade poised for a final blow. With the last of his fading strength, Osric’s fingers closed around the ring in his hand. He didn’t know what he was doing, only acting on instinct.

The ring flared, bathing the forest in blinding radiance. The man screamed as he was engulfed, flesh and bone disintegrating until only a scattering of ash remained, just as the man in Eldham had been. This time, however, something else happened. The light turned on Osric, tendrils of energy lancing into his wound. He convulsed in Talia’s arms as the mystical force knit torn flesh and restored spilled blood. Just as suddenly as it had begun, it ended. Osric gasped, strength flooding back into his limbs. The pain was gone, the mortal wound sealed as if it had never been.

Osric stared down at his blood-soaked tunic in disbelief.

“It ... it healed me,” he stammered. “I don’t understand. How is this possible?”

He looked up at Talia. She was pale, her eyes wide with shock. Slowly, she took a shaky step back from him.

“Talia, it’s okay,” Osric said gently. He got to his feet, holding his hands out in a gesture of reassurance.

Talia stepped away from his reaching hands, eyes darting between the pile of ash that had been the assassin, the crumpled form of the other across the road, and back to Osric.

“You ... we killed them,” she whispered, her hands covering her mouth. “Oh my God. I killed that man. Elder ... she said never to use my knowledge to harm, but they were attacking you, and I got so scared. Oh my God, what have I done?”

“You saved my life, Talia,” Osric said. “If you hadn’t done that spell, I’d be dead right now.”

“You were dead,” she said, her voice quavering as she wrapped her arms around herself, looking small and lost. “He stabbed straight through you. I saw the blade come out the other side. You were dying. I could see it. Then the light, it ... I don’t understand how that happened.”

“I don’t understand either,” Osric said. “It doesn’t...”

He stopped, turning his head towards the trees. The sound of voices, distant but drawing nearer, echoed through the forest.

“We have to go, now,” Osric said urgently, grabbing his sword from the ground and reaching out his hand to her.

Talia hesitated only a moment before taking it, allowing Osric to pull her into the underbrush, away from the road. They ran through the dark forest, branches whipping against them. For hours, they ran, both pushing as fast as they could. Talia had dropped her lantern when she’d gone to him as he fell, and left it behind when they ran. Several times, they almost collided with a tree, seeing it at the last possible moment, but both were too scared to slow down, even for safety’s sake.

Finally, exhaustion overtook them, and they were forced to stop, collapsing against the thick trunk of an ancient oak tree. Gasping for breath, they leaned against the rough bark. Osric’s legs shook with fatigue, and his chest burned from exertion. Talia was pale, her wild red curls sticking to her sweat-dampened face.

“I think ... I think we lost them,” Osric panted, peering back through the dense trees.

Talia wrapped her arms around herself, shivering despite the warm night air. Her wide eyes kept darting to Osric’s bloodstained tunic.

“You should have died back there,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “That sword went right through you. I saw the blood, so much blood...”

Her words trailed off as a shudder ran through her slender frame. Osric’s hand went reflexively to his chest, where the fatal blow had landed. Through the rent in the fabric, the skin beneath was smooth and unmarked.

“It was the ring,” he said.

Talia shifted uneasily away from him. “That ring ... Elder Miriam warned that it was dangerous magic. Now it’s slain two men and brought one back from the dead. Be careful with it.”

“I know. I just ... I don’t know how any of this works. I wish I’d never picked it up. All I know is Elder Miriam said it’s bound to me now, which means maybe I can’t ever get rid of it. Maybe it would be safer if we split up. They’re not after you, only me and this cursed ring.”

“I can’t. We ran for so long ... I’m lost. I don’t know how to get back to Eldham from here. And we’re not alone. They’re out there somewhere still looking for you, maybe both of us. I dropped my things. They’ll find them. Know I was with you.”

Osric wasn’t sure that was right. A lantern and a basket of herbs weren’t much to go on, but he knew of hunters who could track a single animal for days through forest and stream, so it was possible they’d realize there were now two of them.

“You’re probably right,” he said. “Maybe things will look different in the morning. More familiar.”

He tried to sound more confident than he felt. Talia managed a weak smile, though her arms remained wrapped tightly around herself. Osric noticed her shivering had gotten worse as the sweat from their panicked flight cooled on her skin. He removed his cloak and draped it around her slender shoulders. She clutched the edges, pulling it close.

“Thank you,” she said through still chattering teeth. “Sorry, I just feel so cold all of a sudden. We probably shouldn’t start a fire, though. They might see the light.”

They sat in silence for a time, the quiet sounds of the forest night around them. An owl hooted in the distance. Somewhere nearby, a stream gurgled over rocks and roots. The gentle noises blended into a soothing backdrop, lulling him to sleep. Osric felt his eyes become heavy, his head lolling to the side, causing him to jerk himself back upright. He needed to stay awake in case more men showed up.