Page 35 of The Pastel Prince

I slammed the end of the staff to the ground. The rocks shook with druidic magicks that raced along like tendrils of a new plant pushing through the soil. The spell hit the trees with force, rocking the twin oaks soundly.

Bissori got to his boots, raging now, and made another run at Maverus, using his shield to deflect another bolt of magicks. The white oaks creaked and groaned, each one stretching its boughs out, the leaves shaking with wild magicks. I focused my meager power on the staff, pushing all I had into the gem that Maverus was so intent on getting his clawed hands on. Another wave of the goddess’s wrath exploded through the gem, the spell arcing over the ruddy elk, trying to find his footing on icy rock. The magicks fell on the oaks. A shimmering white cloud of energy raced through crystal leaves to thick roots as wide as ten red rivers. The outgrowths vibrated free from the cold rock that had held them for centuries, mighty boughs sweeping upward to scatter the moths. Clouds of white dust fell from the wings of the insects fluttering about, coating the trees as they uprooted themselves.

“What a lovely parlor trick,” Maverus snarled while casting a spear of dark magicks that sank into the thigh of Bissori, pinning him to the doorframe. Bright red blood flowed from the wound, hitting the floor and freezing. I watched in horror as Bissori was then engulfed in a dank green spell that turned him into rock. “Playing with the flora and fauna. You druids are all the same. Relying on chipmunks and daisy petals to defend you and yours. Cowards, all of you, and unworthy of my further attention. Give me the gem!”

He cast out a hand at Beirach as the oaks took one fumbling step. Beirach skidded to a halt, hooves going out from under him, as the blast swirled toward him like the fabled twirlingwinds of the Sandrayan homelands. Crystal leaves sang out in the tornado, hundreds ripping free to be caught up in the whirling storm. I closed my eyes and willed the trees to protect my beloved. The oaks did as I bid, bending into the circling wind. The poison in the air impacted them instead of Beirach. The trees cried out inside my head, making me retch at the pain ripping through my skull.

“Stupid druidic wizardry,” Maverus howled in outrage as the oaks, now coated in a thick sludge of toxin, began to pull at my very soul, begging for my remaining magicks. Retching and gagging, I gave them the last of my power, the surge of life-giving healing rolling over the cavern like a fog cloud. The oaks soaked it up as if it was water. The leaves then hit Maverus, his attention on me as he flew toward me, his face tight with hatred. Glass foliage, thin as a whisper and sharp as a scimitar, impacted the dark mage. He cried out as his vellum thin skin was sliced into ribbons. He faltered, falling from the air to land on his knees, thick blood pooling under him as he slapped at his face to shatter one of the leaves embedded in his left eye. “You are done, Rhaes…”

His right hand came up engulfed in broiling green mist. I braced myself for the spell to hit. That was when a crack as loud as a thunderbolt shook the ground. I looked up to see Beirach hit the base of one of the poisoned oaks, the impact of his head to the holy tree sending him to his knees. The oak teetered, its roots bared, and toppled down to crush Maverus underneath it. The necromancer fell quiet and still, the hand holding the spell exposed, the rest of him flattened. Unmoving, silent, the only sounds now the roar of the waterfall. The dark magicks shrouding his hand dissipated.

I coughed and spat, my mouth vile from being sick, and then crawled, staff in numb hand, around the ledge to where Beirach lie, unmoving. His sides were still, his head laying at anawkward angle. I began to sob over his body. His fur tickling my nose as I wept and wailed in anguish.

“No, no, no, no!No, please, move. Please, do not leave me. No, no, goddess, help me! Help me! Bring him back!”

Water heals all.

I startled violently at the weak voice of the ancient guardians.

I wiped at my face, my gaze locked on the elk lying lifeless with a broken neck as the softly relayed words began to push past my grief.

Yes, the spring’s water heals all ills. Water. The fountain. I placed a kiss on a soft muzzle, then stumbled to my feet, pulling the staff behind me like a child would lead a reluctant pup. When I reached the doorway, I freed one of my silver daggers and sliced away the strips holding the bright blue gem to the staff. It sat in a divot that looked to have been whittled out just for the stone. With shaking hands, I pried out the gem, moths and mist settling over and around me, and pressed the gem into the last remaining slot. The stones lit up one by one. All the colors of the rainbow, filling the cave with a cascade of brightness that made my eyes water anew.

“Please, Danubia, please, they are so loved and so brave,” I whispered while the doors creaked open. Dust of a thousand ages filled the air. I stood shakily, the staff the only thing keeping me upright, and watched as the doors opened. The oaks fell silent.

I rushed into the interior chamber, falling to my knees several times, my sight locked on a small font of water flowing up from the middle of the mountain. There was no elaborate fountain carved of rare stone or golden statuary. Just a smallnatural spring flowing out from between two smooth rocks into a basin of plain pink quartz.

The moths followed me into the chamber, flitting about my head as if they wished to help me reach the fountain. They got under me, lifted me and carried me to the water, placing me down beside the basin.

“Thank you,” I coughed, dropped the staff, and cupped some of the coldest water I had ever felt up and to my lips. “Blessed Danubia, your gifts are many.”

I sipped the clear, cold water. My lips went numb. Then my throat, followed by my stomach. The moths danced around my head as I tumbled back to sit on my ass, my body chilling from toes to fingertips to the ends of my braids. Death seemed likely, but the cold soon changed to warmth. Glorious, yellow sunshine radiated out from my core. I could feel the aches of exhaustion leaving me as the healing powers moved through me.

Tears rolled down my cheeks. I got to my knees and to my feet, my head clear, my soul refreshed. I emptied my skin then refilled it with water from the spring before rushing to Beirach. I dribbled some into his mouth and sat back, terrified the waters would not be enough to heal his massive injury. I made the trip to the fountain and back a dozen times.

“Mighty Danubia, I love him with all my soul. I beg of you bring him back to me so that we may serve you together,” I pleaded to the goddess. The elk snorted, twitched, and then shuddered. The form of the animal slowly being replaced by the body of a man. When Beirach laid in front of me, nude, perfect, and whole, I cried out in joy.

“I am happy to look upon you again,” he said as he reached up to cup my cheek. I fell into his arms, kissing his face over and over. “Maverus?”

My joy evaporated. I sat back on my heels. “He is dead. You knocked the guardian onto him. Even a dark mage cannot survive such a fate.”

He sat up, lost in anguish. He pulled me close, held me for a long, silent time, and then peeled himself from my arms.

“I shall grieve his loss once more.” He sighed heavily.

“Oh shit, what happened? Ugh, I’ve not felt this bad since that night I hooked up with a wild Barbarian lass on the outskirts of…oh hey there. Might want to cover up your pecker, Beirach, before it freezes and falls off,” Tezen croaked from the corner. She sat up, hand on her head, looking befuddled, her eyes flaring when she spied the tree on its side.

“Someone send a raven to my wife. Tell her I got too drunk to make it down this fecking mountain in one piece,” Bissori groaned across the way.

“The curse has lifted now that the caster is dead,” Beirach announced as he got to his feet to find his clothes. We all grunted a reply. None of us wished to celebrate the loss of his son outwardly, but internally, I was overjoyed to see that the stone curse was no more.

Nin hopped over to me, his bright black eyes filled with a hundred questions.

Where am I? Why am I in a cave? Did you bring any food?

I blinked at the bird. “I…no, I do not have food on me. We left it with the horses.”

Ah, too bad about that. I like your shiny things. May I have a shiny thing?

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