Solomon's Odyssey: The Travels of Solomon, #3

By James Maxstadt

A dead world is their only hope.

As Solomon and Jocasta prepare to face the source of the evil infecting the worlds they love, Solomon is ready to put his life on the line to protect those he cares about. But Jocasta is carrying a secret. And, in this harsh, barren world they find themselves in, trust in each other just might be the strongest weapon they have.

Meanwhile, the Greenweald is rapidly dying, the evil arrives on Earth, and a defeated foe returns stronger and more ruthless than ever. Solomon's friends can only hold on and attempt to stem the tide of destruction, hoping that he's successful in his quest.

The evil seems unstoppable and many will fall to it.

Solomon's chances don't look good.

Book Three of The Travels of Solomon.

• Language: English
• Publisher: James Maxstadt
• Release date: Nov 29, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215956793

James Maxstadt

James is the author of more than fifteen fantasy novels. He loves writing books with quirky characters that are full of action, humor, and a lot of adventure. A fan of fantasy since he was young, James thinks a good story that can take a person away from their everyday life is something worth reading. He’s found over the last several years that writing such stories can be just as rewarding. When he does have his head in this world, he can usually be found relaxing at home with his beautiful wife Barb, doing some home renovation or woodworking project, or signing books at comic conventions and Renaissance Faires. Follow him on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/DukeGrandfather

Book preview

Prologue

HE SHOULD BE SCARED. Who wouldn’t be after the things he’d been through? Taken, tortured, almost killed. Yeah, he should be scared.

But Luke wasn’t. Not even a little.

Some of that had to do with the enormous, gray dog wandering ahead of them, running off the path into the trees on either side, then reappearing with tongue lolling out in what could only be described as a grin. Daisy was more than a good dog. She was a mystical being with connections to a whole other world.

More of his non-fright came from the woman at his side, though. Lacy was tougher than nails and had never given up on him. Not when he was drinking too much and stumbling around town trying to shut out the voices in his head, and not when he’d followed Thaddeus into the darkness. She’d stood up for him, stayed by his side and showed him what courage really was.

No, he wasn’t afraid of much with her around.

It’s beautiful out, Lacy said, breaking into his thoughts.

It is. Perfect weather for a walk in the woods.

He clasped her hand and took a moment to gaze around. She was right, it was beautiful out. Cool enough to walk without breaking into a sweat, yet warm enough that they didn’t even need sweatshirts or jackets.

You doing okay? she asked.

Yeah, actually, I’m doing great.

Seriously? It’s okay if you’re not. We can go back to the car and head home.

No, seriously. It’s not even like these are the same woods.

They probably were, in the grand scope of things. Somehow, they were connected to the woods around their house. But they had gotten in their car and driven twenty minutes to this state park, just so that Luke wouldn’t come upon the area where that vile thing had taken him.

They’re not. But they’re still woods, Lacy said. And this is the first time we’ve been back in them since, well, you know.

"Since seeing what real woods look like?" Luke smiled at the memory of the Greenweald.

I’m surprised you can do that, she said.

What? Smile? Why wouldn’t I? I mean, sure, some horrible stuff happened, but we got through it. And when we went back so that Sam could get fixed up, it was better. A lot better.

A faint flush crept up from his wife’s shirt collar. Luke laughed. When you weren’t afraid for your life, the Greenweald could be very romantic, the air itself an aphrodisiac. It had been a memorable few days.

You’re a jerk, she muttered, but without any real rancor.

I know. But listen, seriously, I’m fine. We could have walked near home.

Maybe. Let’s not push it, though. If you make it through the night, then we’ll see.

Afraid of me having nightmares?

She shrugged. I guess. You went through a lot. It’d be natural, wouldn’t it?

Probably. But I keep telling you, I feel great. I know it’s hard to understand, but it feels like I’ve been through the worst, you know? And I survived, I made it. And I got a dog out of the deal. He laughed again when Lacy bumped him with her hip, making him stumble. And most importantly, I got you back.

They walked in silence, listening to the sound of Daisy chasing something through the woods. Daisy was a Hunting Hound, bred and reared to be a fearsome tracker, unstoppable once she was on the trail of her quarry. According to Solomon, she was small for one of her kind, a thought that mystified Luke. If a dog whose shoulder came up to your hips was small, he’d hate to see the big ones.

Daisy was different in other ways, too. She was sent after Solomon, but when he drove her away, she returned to him, essentially becoming his. She stayed with him until she found Luke and Lacy and made the decision herself to stay in their world, rather than returning to the Greenweald. Since then, she’d been nothing more than a big, dopey dog, prone to lying in the middle of the floor wherever it was most inconvenient.

Whatever she was chasing today was safe, unless it dropped dead of fright. Daisy seemed to have no interest in actually catching anything. It was all a big game to her.

Think she misses Solomon? Luke asked.

She might. It’s hard to tell, but she seems happy enough with us.

Why do you think she stayed?

She likes us. And maybe she felt we needed her.

Luke nodded. How about you?

Me what?

Solomon. Do you miss him?

Ha! What a question.

So answer it, Luke said.

Lacy took a deep breath. I guess so? I’m not sure, really. He was a great guy, but he was larger than life, you know? Like if he was still around there were always going to be big events going on. I don’t need that. I just want a quiet life.

Luke nodded. I know what you mean. I feel the same. I’m glad I met him and I’m glad I saw the Greenweald. In some ways, I’m grateful for what we went through. For the first time in years, I feel so clear, so ready for whatever comes my way. But I don’t think I need to see him again.

We did have an adventure though, didn’t we?

That we did, Luke said.

How many people, he wondered, would call what happened to them an adventure? He’d lost an eye, for God’s sake, and been close to being killed by a malevolent wizard. Things like that didn’t happen in real life. They only happened in the type of books and stories that he liked to read and write.

He still wasn’t sure how it was that not only Lacy and him, but Sam and Maggie, had come through it so unscathed. They all just sort of accepted that another whole world was out there, one with magic and fearsome monsters, where people still used swords on a daily basis. They should have been freaked out.

Instead, when they got together, they talked about it as if it were a trip to the Caribbean they’d all went on together. It was fun and exotic but there was no place like home. The one thing it did do was draw them all together. Since Willow healed Sam from the Soul Gaunt’s attack the four of them had become close friends, getting together for dinner once a week or so. Something that would never have seemed possible all those times that Sam had put Luke in the back of his squad car and driven him home.

Luke realized that he was being reflective. Maybe it was the current setting that was doing it. While the woods here certainly weren’t the Greenweald, they did serve as a reminder. But he didn’t want Lacy to think he was slipping into some sort of depression again.

He slid his hand down her back and pinched her bottom.

Hey! Lacy laughed and swatted his hand away. What was that for?

To tell you I’m here. And also. Luke stopped and turned her to him, looking into her eyes. Because I don’t think I ever thanked you.

Don’t be stupid, Lacy said. You don’t have to—

The sudden sound of Daisy barking cut her off. It wasn’t that Daisy never barked, but she did so rarely. She didn’t bark at squirrels or raccoons, and even someone coming to the door got a sniff instead of a warning growl.

Now though, she sounded fierce, her barks sharp, echoing in the woods.

Daisy? Lacy called. What is it, girl? Come on. Good girl.

Daisy was alternating between barking and low, rumbling growls, a sound that Luke hadn’t heard her make before.

We better see what she found, Luke said, starting off the path.

Wait! What if it’s a bear?

Feel sorry for the bear, Luke replied. She’s a Hunting Hound, remember?

But is she still? Lacy followed him as he wound his way between the trees.

The stench hit them well before they found Daisy.

Aw, poor thing, Luke said.

The deer had been dead for a couple of days. Long enough for it to start to smell, even in the cooler air of the early fall.

Yuck, Lacy said. Why would someone kill it and leave it here?

Daisy! Enough! Luke shouted. The dog had continued to bark at the carcass, moving closer to it, then retreating. Maybe it died of natural causes. Either way, it’s gross. Let’s get Daisy and get out of here.

When he stepped nearer, he saw why Daisy was barking. The dead deer was moving. Not as if it was going to suddenly spring to its feet and take off running, but more like something was inside of it.

Come on, he said, and reached for Daisy’s collar.

Which was when the large rat poked its head out of a gash in the deer’s stomach. It was covered in gore and hissed at them, before disappearing back inside the dead animal.

Oh! Luke jumped back and hoped his voice didn’t sound like such a high-pitched squeal to Lacy as it did to him.

What is it? Lacy asked.

A rat! Big sucker, too. It startled me.

A rat? What’s a rat doing in the woods? Don’t they live in sewers and stuff?

I think they can live just about anywhere. I didn’t know they ate dead bodies though.

Ew! That’s what it’s doing? No wonder you screamed.

I didn’t scream, Luke said. It just startled me.

The whole time he was talking to Lacy, Luke kept his eyes on the deer. The carcass was still moving, but now he could clearly see that it was from something inside of it, and there was too much of it to be one rat. There must be several of them in there.

Daisy kept barking, lunging forward and then moving back again, snarling and sniffing.

This is horrible, Luke said. Come on, Daisy.

It was like those were magic words. The first time he said it, the rat appeared. This time, they poured from the body in a wave.

Daisy went berserk. She rushed at the rodents and grabbed one in her mouth, shaking it and clamping down. The thing’s squeal was cut short as her jaws tightened further, ending its life. The other rats didn’t run. Instead, they came forward, hissing like the first one had.

Get out of here! Luke yelled, but the nasty things ignored him.

Daisy killed another, but then one got too close and sank its sharp incisors into her front leg. She yelped, dropped the one she had killed and grabbed the new one, killing it instantly. But more were coming. There had to be at least a dozen.

Get! Go on! Luke grabbed a fallen branch from the forest floor and starting swinging at the rats. He scored few direct hits, and the ones he landed didn’t seem to do much. Daisy kept picking them up in her mouth, biting down hard, and flinging them away with a toss of her head before grabbing another.

The rats withstood the assault for a few more moments, then turned as a group and scuttled away, long, naked tails slithering behind them.

Daisy chased after.

No! Lacy yelled. Daisy, stay!

But she ignored Lacy as she had Luke and ran after the rodents into the woods.

Damn it, Luke growled, and followed behind, Lacy on his heels.

The rats were fast, but Daisy stayed with them, catching another one before she was out of sight. Luke followed the spots of blood left by her injured leg and the sounds of her still manic barking.

The trail led into a small ravine, slightly deeper than Luke was tall, a trickle of muddy water running at the bottom. It stretched away for several yards before taking a sharp turn to the right. From the sounds of it, the rats had gone to ground somewhere around that bend, and Daisy was making sure they stayed put.

Luke jumped down and ran along the defile, ignoring the water soaking into his sneakers.

There was something wrong here. He could feel it. Plus, rats didn’t act like that, right? Maybe with rabies or something, but wouldn’t they foam at the mouth then?

Daisy stood growling in front of a crack in the wall of the ravine. It was narrow, but deep enough that Luke couldn’t see the back of it when he approached and peered inside. There was no sign of the rats.

Suddenly, Luke felt horribly nauseous. He turned, stumbled past Daisy, clutching his stomach, and vomited into the thin stream.

Are you all right? Lacy asked. What’s going on?

I don’t know, he replied, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. I suddenly felt horrible. It’s passing, though. It was, slowly. But he straightened up, trying to ignore the cramping in his gut and turned to Lacy with a weak smile. Guess that deer got to me.

Understandable, Lacy said. That was pretty gross. Where’d the rats go?

In there, I think. He indicated the crack Daisy still guarded, although her growls were quieting. Must be their nest.

Well, let’s leave them and get out of here. We need to take care of Daisy’s leg. Rat bites can be nasty.

How do you know that? Luke asked, trying to lighten the mood. You been bit by one?

I read! Lacy protested.

Luke smiled for real this time. His stomach had settled already. Maybe it really was the deer that affected him.

But when he put his hand on Daisy’s collar, he glanced into the crack again. Somewhere, deep inside, there was a brief pulse of a sick yellow light, there and gone again so quickly that he couldn’t be sure he even saw it. His stomach turned over once.

Quickly, he dropped his eyes and tugged Daisy away. His stomach quieted again, and they found a place to climb from the ditch.

Let’s go home, he said, determined to ignore the feeling pricking at him. The one that told him something bad was coming again.

Chapter 1

SOLOMON MOTIONED FOR Jocasta to follow him and quietly moved down the hill, away from the sound of the Soul Gaunt on the other side. He was sure they had to get to that ruined city but trying to go through a Soul Gaunt wasn’t a good way to begin. Not without Justice, anyway.

What was that thing? Jocasta hissed.

Soul Gaunt, Solomon replied. Surely you’ve heard of them?

"Of course. And yes, I’ve heard the stories of the battle and Jamshir bringing them to the Greenweald. I just didn’t know that’s what that was."

We know now it wasn’t just Jamshir. Not that it matters. We don’t want to fight it unless we have to, so let’s try to get out of sight.

He moved faster now that they were further away, not as worried about making noise. He glanced back, expecting to see the hooded shape rise up over the crest of the hill and start down toward them. But nothing appeared in the dim light and soon they’d put enough distance between the hill and themselves that he felt comfortable slowing down.

Not that there was anything about this place that was comfortable. If that was the sun dimly burning overhead, it didn’t do much to provide light or warmth. This world seemed to be in perpetual twilight, perfect for the Hunters if they existed here. Which made sense, really. Things from a dim world that could only come out when conditions were right in a different one.

On the plus side, if that were so, maybe it meant that true night never fell either, which would be good since he knew Soul Gaunts were here. He wouldn’t pretend to understand the orbital mechanics of it, but maybe this world, wherever it was, kept its sun firmly in the middle of the sky at all times. Why the sun was so dim was another matter. For that, Solomon had the feeling there was more involved. Unnatural things.

The land they traveled through was almost lifeless. Dead scrub brush dotted a barren plain, which stretched on to the dark shapes of mountains in the distance. Patches of dark, oily grass sprouted through the dirt, the blades bending toward them hungrily as they passed. There was no other sign of life, although the ruined city Solomon had seen from the hilltop said that someone lived there at some time.

Hold on. This is ridiculous. Jocasta stopped, grabbing Solomon’s arm to slow him down as well. We’re marching off here and we have no idea where we’re even going.

Yeah, we do. Away from that Soul Gaunt.

Are you really that afraid of it?

Of course, I am! What do you think did this? He pointed at the scar running down his face and the patch covering his missing eye.

What happened to big, bad Solomon? The living legend? The man who can do anything?

First of all, I never claimed to be anything special.

Oh, crap! Jocasta exploded. Just because you don’t go around shouting it out doesn’t mean anything. You don’t correct it when other people do. You enjoy it!

Solomon felt his temper flare, but then he noticed that Jocasta wasn’t focusing on him, even as she yelled at him. Her eyes kept flickering to the strange grass or out across the plain. She wasn’t really angry at him, he realized, she was scared. And for her, dealing with fear meant getting angry. She reminded him a lot of Shireen in that regard.

Listen, he said gently. I know you’re scared. He held up a hand to forestall her outburst. I am too. I wasn’t expecting Soul Gaunts. I thought they were all dead. But you don’t understand how dangerous they are. Even with Justice the first time, it was a tough fight. Then, I only killed one in Lacy’s world by using electricity, something that we don’t even have in the Greenweald and I really doubt is here.

What about all those at the battle? Rumor has it that you killed scores of them.

Solomon nodded. I did. But not alone, and not without great cost. I killed them with Jediah’s sacrifice. And even if we could do something like that here, which we can’t, do you really think I’d be willing to do that? To lose the sister I just found out I had?

Jocasta stared at him for a moment more, the anger slowly draining from her face. Then what? What do we do? Did we come here just to run away?

No. I’m pretty sure what we need is in that city we saw. There were things moving there. I don’t know if they were Soul Gaunts or something else, but I’m pretty sure that’s where we need to go.

So why are we going away from it then?

We need the lay of the land. We need to see what this world is. When you were sailing the Southern Seas, did you just blindly sail into waters you didn’t know or blunder onto an island without scouting first?

Of course not, Jocasta replied.

Same thing here. We don’t know what the rules are. I got horribly ill in Dunfield, because I didn’t understand what was going on. I learned. I’m not going to make the same mistake here. We’ll see what there is to see, then we’ll make a plan, and we’ll set things to right. Sound good?

Jocasta nodded, took a deep breath, and looked out over the landscape. Doesn’t look like much for resources.

You never know what you’ll find, Solomon replied.

They continued on, Solomon glancing back to keep the hill they came off in sight. He took them in a wide arc around it, until finally, the towers of the ruined city came into view, much further away now.  He stopped and studied the city in the distance. Between them and their destination was nothing but more open scrubland, with few places to hide. If they tried to approach, anything still in that city would easily see them coming. Whether that was Soul Gaunts or worse, Solomon didn’t think they could chance it.

The opposite direction led to mountains. Not terribly tall, as far as mountains went, they still served to block out the view of whatever was on the other side. More plains? An ocean? Another city? It could be anything and they’d also be seen as they approached.

So what were the options? Head for the city, where his gut was telling him they needed to go, and chance being caught in the open by the Soul Gaunt they’d seen and who knew how many others? Or, they could wander around these empty plains until hunger and thirst overcame them. Or, they could head for the mountains and see what there was to see there.

In hindsight, it might have been a good idea to take more time to prepare before they had jumped into the portal in the secret room of House Subtle Hemlock. But that was never really Solomon’s way. Here was where the evil was coming from. Here was where they’d find a way to stop it and, hopefully, reverse the damage that had already been done to their Houses. Plus, the evil in Dunfield, and the possibility that it was going to infect Lacy’s world. So here was where he needed to be.

He’d find a way. He always did.

Mountains, he finally decided.

Mountains, what? Jocasta said.

That’s where we’re going. Let’s see what’s up there, what we can find that might help us. At the very least, get out of plain sight. Then we can make a plan.

Jocasta looked at the mountains, then back at the city, before shrugging. Why not? One way is as good as another, right?

She started walking without waiting for Solomon. But she’d only gone a couple of steps before she stopped short, putting her arm out to stop him.

Did you see that? she said.

Solomon put his hand on the hilt of his sword. What?

Up there. Jocasta pointed to a spot high up on the hills.

No, what was it?

I’m not sure. A flash, or glint of something.

They stayed motionless, but the flash of light never repeated. Finally, they started forward again.

Saw it that time, Solomon said.

It was a brief flash of light. Too bright to be the reflection of anything, especially in this dimly lit world, it had to be from an actual light source.

Me too, Jocasta replied. What do you think it is?

I don’t have any idea. But Soul Gaunts don’t use lights and neither do those Hunter things.

So that means?

I think it means something, maybe someone, besides us is alive in this world.

That’s a good thing, right? Jocasta said.

Solomon shrugged. I hope so.

Chapter 2

WHAT DO YOU MEAN? Shireen asked, her tear-streaked face turned to the stranger.

She still couldn’t make out his features since he stood so that he was silhouetted by the sun. Shireen could tell that he was shorter than one of the Folk, maybe a little stouter. Other than that, nothing.

At least until the man squatted on his haunches next to her.

His skin was golden. Not simply a deep tan, rare but not unheard of among the Folk, but an actual gold color. He wore a leather vest, leaving his arms bare, with black tattoos running in wavy patterns the length of them. He was clean-shaven and bald, with bright blue eyes. At his waist, he wore a thin sword on one side and a dagger on the other.

I can help you, the man said. I can make the pain stop.

How? Shireen asked. By killing me?

No. The stranger shook his head. Not by killing you. If that was what I wanted, I would simply do it. I can make it stop by taking you away from this place. Your love for the land and the evil that’s found its way inside of you are conflicting. As long as you stay here, it will continue.

Take me away where? To that human world Solomon is so fond of? To that other place where he found Celia?

I don’t know those places, at least not as you talk of them. I don’t know this Solomon. But there are many worlds out there, not all of them infected. At least not yet.

And you’ll take me to one that isn’t? Why? Why would you do that for me, but not the others? Why not my whole House?

Most of the others are lost, the man replied, his voice growing quieter. Once this infection comes, there isn’t much that can be done. For most. You, though. You’re different.

Shireen snorted and pushed herself up more firmly against a tree. Sure. I’m special. What else do you have to sell?

You are special, whether you choose to believe it or not. You are fighting the infection. Most don’t. For most, it comes on them and they don’t even realize they’re changing. They don’t try to fight it or recognize what’s happening.

Better for them, she said.

Perhaps, the man replied. But not better for their worlds.

Shireen looked about her, at the trees she could feel since she was a child, since she could remember. The trees that now felt to her as inanimate and lifeless as anything else. The man rose to his feet and she studied him as well. He was well-formed, for someone not of the Folk, his frame slim but muscular, and his gaze kind.

Sure, she was special. Maybe it would be better to simply kill this man, leave him to lie here for the animals to devour, his bones to slowly disintegrate into the earth. Then, she could go back to Towering Oaks, resume her place as Head of House. Maybe it was time the Folk stopped being so nice. Maybe it was time to use the world as they saw fit.

With a groan, she lowered her pounding head into her hands. No. Her place wasn’t as Head of House Towering Oaks. That was Solomon’s. She didn’t even want it. What she wanted was to be a simple scout again, to ride out with Orlando as day broke and return late in the evening. Report, eat, make love, sleep. That was all she wanted.

You see? the man said. The rage, the dark desires, build in you. And you fight them off with memories of those you love, the life you want. And it causes you pain. Eventually, even you will succumb. I can teach you to fight this, but not here. I need to take you somewhere clean.

Let’s say I agree, Shireen said, not looking up. What’s the point? Why are you really here? To save one person?

Yes. That and more. I, and others like me, try to stop the spread of this evil. We can’t do it alone, and we’re not always successful. The evil grows stronger and our ranks thin. We need more warriors, more healers, to aid us. Perhaps then, we can limit the spread, stop it from going to other worlds.

Shireen laughed bitterly. If you want a healer, you’ve got the wrong person. You want Willow.

I said we also need warriors. And you are nothing if not a fighter.

Shireen slowly climbed to her feet. I am that, she agreed. Although I don’t feel like I’ve been doing much of it lately.

On the contrary, you’ve been in the fight of your life, even if you didn’t know it. Will you come with me?

All around here were the trees, the land she loved. The land that meant nothing to her now.

But there was something here. Other than that one brief moment, she hadn’t sunk into despair since this man showed up. It was as if his very presence was enough to calm her spirit. And in truth, what did she have to lose by going with him?

All right, she said. So how do we do this? Do you have a gate? Or some sort of portal, like the wizards here use? How do we get to this clean place of yours?

Nothing so simple, the man smiled. It’s a journey that will take some time. Come.

He turned on his heel and began walking. Shireen hesitated for only a moment, then followed.

The man led her even deeper into the woods, further from the Greenweald proper, where the Houses were located. But they weren’t heading north, toward the realm of the Hairy Men, either. Instead, he took her east, walking with a casual ease that said he was sure of their destination.

My name is Shireen, she said after they’d traveled for several minutes.

I know. The man glanced over his shoulder at her. I am Ephraim.

After that, he said nothing more, but continued to walk through the woods as if it were a simple pleasure stroll. Soon, Shireen noticed that they were no longer heading east, but had turned slightly to the south. She made no comment, and after several more minutes their direction turned again, coming completely around in a wide circle, until they were heading to the west.

Um, you do know that we’re heading back in the same direction we came from, right? she said.

I know, Ephraim replied, but again said nothing more.

Another hour passed, and still they continued through the woods, taking seemingly random directions, north, south, east and west. The woods never changed like it had when following Daisy back to the Greenweald.

Shireen started to feel that she was being made a fool. Who was this man who suddenly showed up and presented himself as some sort of savior? Then to lead her aimlessly through her own land? If she wanted, she could cut him down and return to Towering Oaks. Even now, after all this meandering, she easily knew the way.

No, something was definitely wrong, and she’d had enough of it.

She put her hand to her sword hilt and started to draw it.

The world flickered. The sun filtering through the leaves blinked. Everything was pitch black for an instant, then the light returned, the same as before.

Ephraim looked over his shoulder at her once again. Almost, he said.

Almost, what? Shireen spat. She slammed her sword back into her scabbard, but Ephraim simply continued to walk, ignoring her question. Hey! I’m talking to you!

She grabbed his arm and yanked him around to face her. His golden face split into a wide grin, and the world flickered again.

Only this time, it stayed dark for far longer. Long enough for Shireen to feel a drastic drop in temperature. It was so dark that she couldn’t see anything at all, not even the hand that still had a firm hold of Ephraim’s arm.

What’s going on? she snarled. What is this?

Patience, came Ephraim’s voice.

A moment later the light returned, and with it, a whole new landscape. The woods were gone. In their place was a land of rolling hills, covered in the soft blooms of wildflowers. Not far off was a wooden structure, two-storied with clapboard siding and a wooden roof. Smoke curled from a stone stacked chimney.

Ah, closer than I thought, Ephraim said. We’re nearly there.

He smiled again, gently pulled his arm from her grasp, and strode toward the house.

Chapter 3

EVERYTHING WAS PAIN. Thaddeus floated in an ocean of it. Something he would have thought he’d be used to by now. But this was a whole new level. Somewhere, far from him, he could hear the sound of Willow’s voice, droning on in a sing-song manner. He supposed that she was healing him, against her better judgment, he was sure.

Fire. Fire did this to him. It was almost funny, really. Thaddeus had always had an affinity for light and fire spells. And his time in Subtle Hemlock had brought that to a whole new level. Now, he was the master of flame, able to shape it to his whim, send it where he wished, and control it without question. And it didn’t hurt him anymore. He could hold it in his hand, he could make sheets of it wrap around his body and not feel the slightest discomfort.

Until Malachi. He knew the Head of House Subtle Hemlock was stronger than him. Malachi was stronger than Melanie, too. He was the most powerful and ruthless magic user Thaddeus had ever encountered. By far.

Still, Thaddeus was the master of flame. So how had Malachi managed to do what he did?

A distant screaming interrupted his thoughts. After a moment, he realized it was coming from him, and with that realization, the pain doubled, then doubled again, and again, until he couldn’t stand it.

Kill me! It was his voice that screeched the words, but the sentiment certainly wasn’t his. He didn’t want to die. He wanted the agony to end, to be able to move, so that he could get up and find Malachi, and show him what true pain really was.

Hush, Thaddeus, came Willow’s whisper. This will pass.

In fact, it was passing already. The pain slowly lessening. It just took a few minutes for Thaddeus to be aware of it. It was still intense, still crowding out any other thoughts.

Then, it was back to the normal mind-numbing levels of before, and he was able to breathe again.

How could this be? He was the master of flame.

He was still thinking that when the pain flared again, and this time, he let it wash over him and carry him into the darkness.

HE’S BURNING UP!

Those was the first words that Thaddeus heard when he started to come around again.

A lot of the pain was gone, or at least down to manageable levels. His skin still felt raw, like his entire body had been rubbed against rough tree bark. But that was better than the searing pain from before, and certainly better than the agony that flared through his entire body in waves.

He’ll be fine. That was Willow’s voice.

Thaddeus had the sense that some time had passed. For one, he wasn’t lying on the floor anymore. He’d been moved to a couch, which must be in another room, since he didn’t remember any such thing in Malachi’s office. If Willow had allowed him to be moved, he must be out of danger.

Although, the tone in the healer’s voice as she said Thaddeus would be fine was anything but caring. Willow may have healed him, but she was still no fan of his.

He chuckled at that, a low, raspy sound that quickly turned into a harsh cough.

Easy, the first voice said, and now he recognized it as Melanie.

She held a cup of cool water to his mouth and he sipped at it, suddenly aware of a powerful thirst. She only allowed him a small sip before taking the cup away.

That’s enough for the moment, she said. You can have more in a few, when we see how you do with that.

What did she think was going to happen? He was thirsty and he wanted more water. He opened his eyes. At first, everything was blurry, but slowly, the ceiling of the room came into focus. Dark, wooden beams crossed overhead. Nice place. He suspected that perhaps they’d retired to Malachi’s personal apartments. Ironic, since he and Melanie had planned on taking them anyway.

She was next to him, kneeling on the floor so that she was the same level as him.

She was beautiful. The most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Her face reminded him of the affection he felt for her, the closeness. Ah, hell, just say it. The love. He’d fought against it, of course. She wasn’t from the right type of House, not a noble one like he was. You could tell by the way he was lying here, burnt and helpless, while she cared for him. Obviously, he was the more important person.

He chuckled again at his own nonsense, and this time managed to have it not turn into coughing. Progress.

Hey, he said. His voice came out in a croak, and he felt dry lips crack.

Hey, yourself, Melanie said. Glad to see you’re back.

How long was I out?

A while. Willow stabilized you, then healed Jocasta. Malachi had cut her up pretty bad. Then, she disappeared for a bit with Solomon and Jocasta, and came back alone. Not quite sure yet what that’s about, but we’ll all talk when you’re able to. She did some more work on you, then went off to rest just now. Darius went with her. She stopped, then smiled. I think there’s something going on between the two of them.

No. Really? He stretched out a trembling hand toward her. Like between us?

He expected her to take his hand, but instead, Melanie drew back slightly, almost as if she didn’t want Thaddeus to touch her. When he saw his hand, he couldn’t blame her.

It was a mass of pink, scarred flesh, knots of tissue standing out, and weeping sores covering the back of it. He turned it over to see the same on the palm side, as well as up his wrist and arm. Slowly, he reached up and gently touched his face, finding the same things there.

Oh, he said quietly. Malachi really did a number on me, didn’t he?

He did, Melanie answered. But Willow isn’t done yet. She just needed to rest. She dropped her gaze to the floor. Although ... you should know. She said there will be scarring.

Yeah, I can see that, Thaddeus answered. What does that say for us?

Her eyes snapped back to his. What do you mean? Do you think I’m only with you for your looks? Got news for you. You weren’t all that nice-looking to begin with.

Ah. There she was. The Melanie that he loved.

No, he said. Perhaps not. But I wasn’t such a monster then, either.

You’re not a monster. And I’ll get used to it. I just need a little time. It’s not about how you look, either. It’s that I can’t stop thinking about how much pain you must be in whenever I see you.

Good. Thaddeus closed his eyes. If I lost you, too, I don’t know that I could handle it.

His words surprised even him, and he could only imagine the expression on her face. But it was too much effort to open his eyes again to see it.

THADDEUS! THADDEUS, stop! You’ll burn the whole place down!

What was going on now? It was Melanie yelling at him, but why? He felt much better, almost normal. He was bathed in a pleasant warmth that soothed the scraped feeling over his entire body.

He took a deep breath and exhaled, wondering what that whooshing noise was and where it was coming from.

Thaddeus! Melanie’s yell was accompanied by a stinging slap across his cheek.

He jerked his head back, more surprised than hurt, and opened his eyes.

It was hard to see again, but not because his vision was blurry. There was a strange wavy pattern in the air around him. It distorted the room beyond, Melanie’s concerned face, and even his own body.

Thaddeus, stop! Melanie scrambled backwards, her arm coming up to shield her face.

Stop what? he mumbled and sat up.

He sat up! Huh. The last time he was awake he’d felt weak as a kitten, but now, he sat up like a normal person did every day. Progress, indeed!

The heat, Melanie said. You need to turn it down. Look at the couch.

Confused, he looked down at where he’d been laying. Beneath him, the fine furniture was blackened and smoking, moments from igniting.

Oh, sorry. With a wave of his hand, he extinguished the nascent flames. After a moment, he realized that the wavy aura around him was from his own body, lines of heat visible to the naked eye. He frowned and toned it down with a thought. Better?

Melanie didn’t answer. She was staring at him with an open mouth, her eyes searching his face, running down his arms, then back.

What? he asked. What’s going on?

What? she repeated. What did you do?

I don’t know what you’re talking about.

Look at your arms! Your hands!

Melanie seemed on the verge of hysteria, but Thaddeus did as she asked.

His arms and hands were almost unharmed. The skin still had a raw appearance and there were a few faint scars visible, but otherwise, he was almost unblemished. His fingers found the same with his face.

Huh, he said. How about that?

What are you? Melanie whispered.

He laughed. What am I? A little melodramatic, aren’t you?

I’m not kidding, she said. Even Willow couldn’t do that. She told me. And you’re no healer. So what are you?

Don’t be ridiculous. I’m Thaddeus. From House Whispering Pines. One of the Folk.

No. Melanie shook her head. I don’t think you are anymore.

Chapter 4

JOCASTA’S MIND HAD been in turmoil ever since they came through the gate to this new, dark world. For one, she was still rattled by the news that not only was her father from House Towering Oaks, but he was Solomon’s father as well. Then, there was the painful and disorienting passage from the Greenweald to their present location. And finally, the Soul Gaunt. That thing had radiated fear and cold that she could feel even from the top of the hill they hid on. Solomon had admitted to being scared of it, and from what she’d heard, and the little she’d seen so far, if he was frightened, then so should she be.

None of which sat well with her.