The Calling (The Andovia Chronicles Book 1), Page 2

  Nyx headed straight for the tree line and ducked behind a large oak. She glanced up and scanned the trees for any sign of the local dryads who inhabited the nearby forest. Aside from her sisters, they had been her only friends and treated her with kindness.

  “Willow? Serophene?” she hissed. “I need your help.”

  None of the dryads appeared, and her heart sank. Had they given up on her too? She called out for them in her mind instead. The dryads didn’t need to communicate in words, so perhaps they were just hiding for fear of the villagers seeing them.

  Nyx waited a moment, but no one appeared, nor did she feel their presence nearby. They must be hiding deep within their trees or they didn’t want to come out to aid her.

  Voices echoed behind her, but she had grown fast at running over the years. Her wings added to her momentum. She didn’t dare risk flying or they would see her. She would have to get somewhere safe before she attempted that.

  Nyx stopped, breathing hard. She had to get her hands free.

  “From light to bright,” she muttered a spell to conjure a small flame. Fire terrified her, but it was the only way to get her hands free. Light burned straight through her ropes, and she rubbed her aching wrists. Grabbing her pack, she swung it over her shoulder. It only had a few spare clothes and some coin inside. She had never been one for luxuries. She slipped her blade into her belt but prayed she wouldn’t have to use it.

  Nyx had to keep moving or they would catch up with her. Their thoughts became so loud she clutched her head and tripped over a tree root.

  Someone, please help me. I don’t want to die. Gods, why can’t I stop their thoughts? I don’t want to hear them!

  Footsteps echoed behind her.

  We are gaining on her.

  She won’t get far.

  Her wrists ached, as did her limbs. She knew she would be covered in bruises.

  Nyx made her way through the woods rather than keeping to the trail. Leaves crunched under her boots as she rushed by several trees. Their gnarled limbs seemed to reach for her as she ran, the branches snagging on her tunic. She knew these woods better than anyone, so it was easy to find her way. A quick glance upstream revealed no sign of the dryads. They had made it clear they wouldn’t help her.

  The villagers would expect her to follow the trail that led to the road onto the next villages several miles away. She couldn’t go that way. No one would offer shelter to a changeling. They would turn her over in the hopes of getting some good coin.

  She would make for Dead Man’s Cliff — a treacherous area known for landslides. If she could jump from that, maybe it would give her enough momentum to fly.

  Where is that damned girl? She will pay for what she did.

  Nyx pushed their thoughts away. Finally, the cliff was in sight. Nyx sighed with relief. She had made it. If she survived the fall, she would have a chance of freedom. Where she went from here didn’t matter as long as she kept away from that pyre.

  Someone threw themselves at her, knocking her to the ground. Nyx let out a cry of alarm as the man wrestled with her. “Thought you could escape from us, didn’t you, witch?” he snarled and punched her. Nyx’s head reeled back, and stars flashed before her eyes. He drew a knife and slashed her. “I should kill you now for what you did to Harland. I always knew you were a threat.”

  Nyx raised her arm to shield herself, a trickle of blood dripped down as the knife slashed through her skin. She gripped his arm and thought, Let me go. She willed her curse to force the man to comply. Energy reverberated through her body, making her gasp and he drew back in alarm. She brought her knee up and kicked him in the groin. Good thing she had only wanted something minor from him or it would have drained a lot more energy – energy she needed to escape.

  The man cried out in agony and slashed at her again. The blade tore through her wing.

  Nyx yelped and clutched her damaged wing. Her fingers came away sticky with blood, but she didn’t have time to worry about it as she hurried to the edge of the cliff and clutched her bleeding arm.

  We’ve got her now, someone thought.

  Nyx flexed her wings. Gods, please protect me. She jumped, wings flapping wildly. The harder she flapped made no effect as she didn’t gain any momentum.

  My wing must be more damaged than I thought. Gods help me! I’m going to die. This is it. She closed her eyes.

  Air rushed around her. She braced herself, expecting the ground to reach her again. At least this way she had chosen her death, and it would hopefully be quick, not prolonged in agonising pain like it would have been if she had burned.

  Instead, her descent slowed. What’s happening?

  Something had a hold of her, not her wings which still flapped uselessly.

  Why aren’t I falling? She sensed someone nearby, and strange words carried on the air. Blood pounded in her ears. Why am I not hitting the ground? Although she felt someone’s presence, she couldn’t hear their thoughts.

  The ground reached up for her, and she closed her eyes, bracing herself for the inevitable impact.

  When it came, she landed soft and gentle. Nyx opened her eyes as a boy — no, young man — peered down at her then clamped a hand over her mouth. “Shush,” he hissed.

  “You!” It was the same person she had seen the night before. He had long blond hair, piercing blue eyes, and wore an expensive cloak, velvet jerkin and brown trousers. He looked too well-dressed to be from the lower realm.

  Nyx yanked her knife from her belt and held it to his throat. He waved his hand and knocked the knife away with a blast of invisible energy as if the blade were nothing but a minor inconvenience. “I am here to help you,” he said.

  “No, you’re not. You killed Traveller and probably Harland, too. You’re going to make my tribe burn me alive!” She gripped his arm. Get away from me! She screamed the words in her mind and willed her curse to hit him and force him to get away from her.

  Energy surged through her body, making her gasp as a concussive wave burst from her, like thunder without sound.

  The man flinched and gritted his teeth. “Your powers don’t work on me, Nyx.”

  Her eyes widened and a memory of the night before flashed through her mind. She had lost control of her curse when she had seen Traveller’s dead body. The man hadn’t been affected by her influence then either, even when he had tried to hit her with a lightning bolt.

  He clamped a hand over her mouth. “If I move my hand, will you promise to be quiet?”

  Nyx frowned. He was touching her, but she couldn’t hear anything from him. How was that possible? Why wouldn’t her influence work? That had never happened before.

  She nodded.

  He drew his hand away from her mouth and offered it out for her to take. “What are you doing?” Nyx growled.

  “Helping you.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t want your help.” She scrambled up. “Who are you? Why did you come looking for me?”

  “You’re bleeding.” He pressed a hand to her arm and said strange words. Warmth washed over her skin as the cut stopped bleeding.

  Nyx stared at her arm in disbelief. “How did you…?”

  Shouts echoed close by.

  We’ve got her now.

  Nyx grabbed her fallen pack and looked around, but there was no sign of her knife. She turned to run.

  “Wait,” the man said and gripped her wrist.

  Nyx yanked her arm free and ran. She would not let herself be anyone’s prisoner. The gods only knew what he wanted. She’d only taken a few steps before she came face-to-face with an enormous white wolf.

  Nyx clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a scream. Good gods, she had never seen a wolf this big before. It looked almost the size of a man with glowing amber eyes, all rippling muscle and thick fur. What is that?

  The wolf stood there, staring at her. Nyx half expected it to pounce on her and rip her apart with its massive jaws.

  “You don’t understand —” Nyx protested.


  Jarrod himself and the rest of the villagers swarmed around them in a circle, some carrying knives and makeshift weapons like pitchforks.

  Nyx spotted her sword in Jarrod’s belt, and her chest tightened. He has my weapon. She had to get out of here. It didn’t matter who the strange man was, even if he had saved her life.

  “Trust me,” he told her and said more strange words. Light flashed over her skin.

  Nyx stared down in horror. Her skin had darkened and she now wore a long velvet gown and a thick woollen cloak, yet the clothes felt the same. She couldn’t feel the strange new garments. Gods, what had he done to her? Her long hair had changed to a deep shade of bright red: the same colour as the girl she had seen in the cave last night along with the blue-eyed stranger.

  “What have you done to me?” she cried.

  “Quiet,” the man hissed. “Don’t say anything. I’m keeping you alive.”

  Alive? For what purpose? Nyx froze as several of the village men approached them. Their thoughts buzzed around her mind. Where did the changeling go? Who are these newcomers? Why are they here?

  Nyx wanted to run but knew the blue-eyed stranger would stop her again. Power rolled off him in waves. What was he? She had met a few magic users over the years, but none of them had been as powerful as him.

  “Can I help you?” the man asked with a charming smile. He took hold of her hand, and her mind went silent. All of the thoughts she had been picking up on vanished.

  What was he doing? Why couldn’t she hear anything? She realised he must somehow be suppressing her curse or perhaps neutralising it.

  “Where is the changeling?” Jarrod demanded and drew her sword. “I know she fell down here. Did you let her get away? She is a killer, and anyone caught helping her will be put to death as well.”

  Nyx made a move to flee, but the man tightened his grip.

  Let me go, she thought and willed her curse to force him to comply once again. Nyx had to be touching someone to make it work. Doing so would drain her energy, but she didn’t care. At least she would be able to get away. She wasn’t about to be captured by the villagers or this strange newcomer. Energy reverberated through her fingers. The man flinched but didn’t relinquish his grip.

  Argh, why wouldn’t it work? She wanted to scream in frustration and demand to know who the stranger was and why he was there.

  “Who?” The man frowned, unfazed by what she had just done. “Oh, you mean the girl who fell out of the sky? I believe she ran that way.” He motioned in the opposite direction.

  Jarrod gave Nyx a hard look. “Who are you people? I haven’t seen you before, and I know every face from the surrounding villages.”

  Nyx noticed the wolf had retreated. Where had it gone? It had been right there. Perhaps the stranger had somehow hidden it behind his magic as well. Also, where was the girl that she now looked like? Nyx hadn’t seen her since last night.

  “We are travellers passing through. This is my wife.”

  Wife? Nyx flinched. Had he changed her appearance to protect her or would he want something in return?

  “As you can see, there’s no changeling here.”

  Jarrod hesitated and gave Nyx a scrutinising look. Her heart pounded in her ears like a heavy drum. He couldn’t recognise her, could he? She looked like someone else now. “The changeling will be put to the pyre for what she did.”

  Oh, gods. Nyx kept her gaze averted as blood pounded in her ears.

  “What did she do?”

  “She used sorcery to kill a man. She is dangerous and deserves to die for her crime,” Jarrod snapped. “You folks had better be on your way. Strangers aren’t welcome here.”

  “Sir, we have her here,” one of the village men called and dragged someone along with him.

  Nyx gasped when she caught sight of a girl that looked just like her — the real her. Right down to the dark pink hair streaked almost black with dirt and the large iridescent wings. Good gods, how was this possible?

  The other Nyx struggled against his grasp but didn’t say anything. She shot the man holding the real Nyx a look. Something seemed to pass between them.

  Jarrod’s smile gleamed. “Good job, Percival. I knew that little rat wouldn’t get far. Let’s hurry up and take her back. The sooner she burns, the sooner the stench of her evil will be gone from this world.”

  “Wait a moment.” The man held up a hand and took a step forward, dragging Nyx with him. “What do you mean to do with her?”

  “She is a murderer. She killed a good friend of mine — a man who took her in as a foundling and was a father to her. She destroyed him with her unholy magic.” Jarrod grimaced, and his eyes flashed with anger. “We will take her back to the pyre where she will finally pay for her crime.”

  Nyx opened her mouth to speak, yet no words came out. Something sealed her lips in place, preventing her from speaking. What had this newcomer done to her? She needed to tell them the truth. As much as she wanted to escape, she didn’t want this strange doppelgänger to die in her place.

  “How did she kill him?” the man persisted. “You say she used magic, what kind?”

  “The victim’s wife claims the girl is cursed. She can somehow overhear people’s thoughts and used her wickedness to destroy a good man. We found him dead during the night, blood streaming from his ears and eyes. There was also the body of a trader found near the woods who was known to have dealings with the girl,” Jarrod answered. “She’s been a curse on our tribe since the day she was found. You had better not interfere with this, boy.”

  Nyx flinched at Jarrod’s words. No, she couldn’t have done that. Her curse had never worked that way. It had never hurt anyone except herself. Her revulsion gave way to anger.

  Interfere? You fool. Can’t you see he’s doing just that? Nyx wanted to scream.

  She hadn’t killed Traveller or Harland either. Traveller had already been dead when she had followed the blue-eyed stranger and his companions to the cave and stumbled upon the body there.

  “In that case, why not let me kill her for you?” the man said. “I am a druid, and I despise people who use magic to harm others.” Fire formed in his free hand and Nyx instinctively drew back.

  What game was this strange druid playing? Surely he wouldn’t kill her or the impostor disguised to look like her?

  Jarrod sneered. “Why would you do such a thing? You don’t even know this criminal. And I want the satisfaction of doing it myself.”

  “I don’t have to know her; I can sense when someone has fresh blood on their hands, and she deserves to die for her crime. So, let me take care of the problem for you.” The druid held out his hand, making Nyx wonder if the flames hurt his skin.

  Jarrod hesitated and rubbed his bearded chin. “Will she suffer?”

  The man gave an evil smile. “Even more so than if you put her on a pyre. This way, she will be suffering for an eternity in the underworld.”

  “Very well. Kill her then.” Jarrod walked over, grabbed hold of the Nyx doppelgänger and shoved her towards the druid.

  The other Nyx shook her head and opened her mouth to speak, but that was when the druid struck. He hurled the fireball towards the other Nyx. She screamed as the flames hit her in the chest then exploded her body in a fiery blast.

  Nyx looked away and stifled a cry of alarm. Tears pricked her eyes. Would the druid do the same thing to her? At least it would be a quick end. Maybe she wouldn’t even feel anything.

  Jarrod frowned. “That’s it? You said she would suffer first!”

  “And she is suffering in the flames of eternal fire. We’ll be on our way now.” He gripped Nyx’s arm and led her away.

  Jarrod and the other villagers trailed off. Not one of them stopped the druid to ask him any questions. The fools. They had always been so distrustful of newcomers. Why hadn’t they asked more questions?

  “It’s alright,” the druid said.

  Nyx yanked her hand free from his grip. “Who are you? What are you?” Only the distant
murmur of the villagers’ thoughts echoed in her mind now. “What have you done to me?”

  “I’m not your enemy, Nyx Ashwood. In fact, I just saved your life,” the druid replied. “If I hadn’t changed your appearance, you would no doubt be burning on a pyre now.”

  Her mouth fell open. “How do you know my name? Who are you?”

  “My name is Darius. I know a lot more about you than you can imagine, Nyx. I was sent here to find you and take you into custody.”

  Custody? Nyx’s head spun. None of this made any sense. “What do you mean? Are you going to kill me?” she demanded. “Tell me who you really are.”

  Darius shook his head. “No, you’re much too valuable to be killed. I am Darius Valeran.” He slapped a metal cuff around her wrist. “You are a prisoner under the laws of the Archdruid and shall be brought before him to face judgement.”

  Chapter 2

  Darius Valeran wondered what he had done to deserve being sent after this fae girl. His brother Gideon had forced him to come all the way to the lower realm to find the suspected mind whisperer they had heard rumours about.

  All colour drained from Nyx’s face when he mentioned who he was. “You’re the Archdruid’s son?”

  “His second-born son, yes.” A pit of guilt formed in his stomach at the sight of the metallic cuff he had slapped on her wrist. It flashed with spelled runes that would not only block her powers, but also prevent her from running off. If she tried, she wouldn’t get far.

  His friend and travelling companion, Ranelle, swooped down from the treeline. She still looked like Nyx’s true appearance. She grinned at him. “Good job, Valeran. That was a nice bit of magic. But did you have to pretend to kill me?”

  “You’re immune, Rae. I think we pulled the trick off well.” Darius flashed her a smile.

  Nyx gasped and clapped a hand over her mouth. “Why does she look like me? What in the gods’ names is she?”