“Don’t tell me that you’re afraid to be seen wearing a necklace in front of other men?” Kirsten asked. “Thomas was practically drooling over it when I first showed it to him.”
“Well, Thomas is more into this kind of look than I am,” Bo began.
“I can always take that back and give it to him if you aren’t appreciative,” Kirsten cut him off and reached out for the necklace.
“Hang on,” Bo said pulling away. “I’m not saying I’m not grateful or that I don’t like the look. I’m just used to seeing it on you,” he said with a smile. “I’ll gladly wear this on display.”
“Good,” Kirsten said grabbing his hand flirtatiously. “Now, I can tell you’re dying to help out any way that you can, so get after it,” she motioned toward the movements in the camp.
“Don’t you want to help, too?” Bo asked.
Kirsten looked to the path leading out to the plains, “I will, but first I need to find something I left on the battlefield.”
Bo shuddered as if a chill had come over him, “I don’t want to see the gore again. Come find me when you’re done, okay?”
She nodded, “I won’t be too long.”
Kirsten watched Bo disappear into the bustling movements of the camp. Switching her mindset to prepare for the visual gore of the battlefield, Kirsten walked down toward the plains on a mission. Though the dragon fire burned hot, the grass did not sustain the flame, which led her to believe that both crystals she and Rankstine had used during the battle had survived.
As she walked on the newly trampled path leading onto the plains, she saw a familiar trio of faces coming toward her. With a smile she greeted Britt and the two warriors from her crew.
“Kirsten, where are you going?” Britt asked in alarm.
There was something about the exchange that gave her pause. Kirsten pointed to the burnt plains beyond the tree line ahead and said, “I’m going out to look for the crystal I dropped.”
Britt’s expression reminded Kirsten of the look Theodor would give her when she asked for his approval to go to town without Anders or Thomas. After a moment where Kirsten thought Britt might tell her that she couldn’t go, Britt said, “When you’re finished, find Anders and the others. We need to move quickly.”
“Yeah, I saw that people were packing up,” Kirsten said slowly. “Is there a reason for the urgency?” she asked, seeing that Britt was anxious to get moving, similar to those she’d seen at camp.
“You don’t know why?” Britt asked, her attention fully focused on Kirsten now.
Kirsten shook her head.
“Merglan’s escaped prison and taken control of the elf capital. The dragons we saw were fleeing his wrath. A fight is coming our way.”
“Really? Where will we go?” Kirsten asked.
“Brookside for now, so hurry and find the crystal. I have a feeling we’re going to need it soon,” Britt said. Kirsten sidestepped her warrior friend as she continued leading her crewmen toward the camp.
Kirsten’s thoughts swirled from the shocking news. I thought Anders and Maija had won? What will happen if he attacks us now? Her imagination lit on the unprepared people of Brookside and the Riverlands, having barely been able to hold their own against a mostly non-magical force. How would they stand up against Merglan’s full power? She didn’t like the likely outcome. I need to find those crystals, she told herself and started running toward the plains.
Striding over bodies strewn across the charred battlefield, Kirsten searched for the place where she’d been when Anders and Maija had arrived. Now that it was daylight, her special recognition of the exact spot where she had fought Rankstine was unclear. She could guess based on how far from the tree line she remembered they’d been and the number of dead kurr on the ground. Rankstine was on a horse. It had been the only horse in the battle from what she could recall. Forcing herself to push through the stench of the hours-old battle, she felt as if she were closing in on the exact spot. The kurr bodies outnumbered the orc and human now, a sign that she had reached the point where the second force hit them.
Slowing her pace, she swiveled, her eyes searching the charred dead bodies. Where insects once buzzed among the long grass, flies swarmed the ashen remnants of war. Memories of how she’d become lost in the fighting, wielding the crystal’s power and launching an attack into the charging forces burned through her mind’s eye. Shaking her head, she focused on the kurr and saw a clearing where the bodies were dispersed enough to expose a patch of black ground.
Rushing into the charcoal clearing, Kirsten spotted the burned remains of a horse near the easternmost side. She approached, slowly. Lying on the ground near the horse was a human. His clothing had been seared away revealing the red and sloughing skin on his body. The once dark long hair of the man who’d taken over her hometown had burned away, exposing his fleshy scalp. Kirsten gulped, the memories of everything this evil man had done to her and her people still fresh in her mind. Though seeing the monster of a man burnt was horrific, it did not arouse in her any feelings of sympathy or pity.
Inhaling sharply, she stepped closer to Rankstine’s crisp body. The crystal had been in his hand when Maija’s huge scarlet dragon had burnt him. Kirsten began to search through the ash near Rankstine’s body. She looked out in front of the man, thinking that if he’d fallen forward the crystal would’ve slipped from his grip. She kicked through the ash near his outstretched arm creating small knee-high black clouds, but the crystal was not in front of him. When the ash settled, she saw that one of his outstretched hands was gripped tightly into a fist. The thought of prying open Rankstine’s dead hand brought on a queasy feeling she had so far managed to hold down in her throat. Swallowing and trying to ward off the wave of sickness pushing up from the pit of her stomach, she recalled that the dragon had come from the left and passed over moving right.
If the fire hit him with enough force, it could’ve knocked him in that direction, causing him to drop the crystal over here, she told herself. Kicking through the ash again, she searched for the crystal.
Finding nothing in the ash to his side, Kirsten prepared herself to approach the next place she thought the crystal might be. Walking to Rankstine’s outstretched arms, she knelt on the black earth. Grabbing his wrist, Kirsten lifted the burnt arm. His skin sloughed off in her hand and his arm fell back into the ash leaving behind puffy exposed tissue where she had grabbed him. She turned away gagging, but knew if she wanted to retrieve his crystal, she would need to pry open his hand. Grabbing his wrist again, she quickly rotated is arm before she lost hold of it. In the upturned grip she saw the faint glow from the crystal he’d used to wield magic.
One by one, Kirsten peeled back the man’s fingers. When she’d pulled away three of his fingers, the crystal was exposed enough for her to grab. Kirsten reached in and formed a firm grip on the crystal with her thumb and two fingers. As soon as she began pulling, the crystal’s light flickered and Rankstine’s uncurled fingers closed around hers.
She shrieked and tried to pull her hand out of his. Somehow Rankstine’s grip bore down on her and she couldn’t pull her hand free. Suddenly the burnt man’s body moved, and he started to lift his head from the ash. Kirsten fell into a frenzied panic and tried to pull away. The harder she pulled the tighter his grip became. In a matter of moments, the seemingly dead man had lifted his head from the ash and was beginning to pull her into him.
In her panic, Kirsten reflexively reached with her free hand for the sword on her belt. Finding its hilt, she tried to pull it free but couldn’t. Her arm was too short, and, in her kneeling position, she could only remove it two thirds of the way from its sheath. She glanced at the bloodshot eyes in Rankstine’s burned face. Gritting her teeth, she let go of the sword handle and grabbed it by the blade. The steel’s sharp edges cut into her fingers and palm as she wrenched the remaining end free from its holster. The somewhat magically revived corpse screamed when he saw the blade in her hand, and she saw the crystal glowing brighter. With the bare blade digging into her hand, she arched it back and stabbed it deep into the hairless head. Rankstine’s grip loosened and Kirsten pulled herself free. Rising to her feet, she quickly grabbed the sword handle with her right hand and drove the tip through his skull, pinning him to the charred earth beneath.
He twitched, skin and remaining bits of clothes sliding from his body. Kirsten watched as he continued to flinch long after any normal human would be dead. Feeling the man’s life had lasted far too long and wanting to put an end to the madness, she pulled the sword free from his head. The blade slid out like a hot knife and she lifted it for the final blow. With a felling swoop, the steel cut through soft flesh and severed his spine. Rankstine’s body continued to twitch as his head rolled to the side, separated from his body. With his dead eyes staring skyward, his body continued to move. Kirsten shouted, “Enough!” And with that she severed the hand holding the crystal from his arm. At once the burned body stopped moving and lay still in the ash. Kirsten kicked his severed fist away from his body, to put further distance between the magic crystal and its wielder.
“Argh!” she grunted out of frustration at the dead corpse. Surely, he was dead now. This man had lived too long and endured through too many death-defying experiences to take any chances. Nobody could live without a head and burnt beyond belief. She held her hand out, opening it to examine the depth of her injury. She knew fingers bled more than other parts of the body, but the blood dripping out was enough to make her take the crystal and run.
Locating the man’s hand in the ash, she put her foot on it and pressed down hard. The soft burnt flesh smooshed around the hard surface of the crystal, exposing half of it above the thumb and forefinger. Sheathing her sword and reaching down, she gripped the exposed crystal and pulled. It slid from the still firm grip and she wiped it clean on her pants. Putting it into her pocket, she cursed at Rankstine, finally rid of his haunting. Her hand stung with pain and she wanted to distance herself from the dead man. Pushing through the pain, Kirsten scoured through the surrounding bodies until she found the dim glowing light in the charred earth. Pocketing the sapphire she’d had during the battle, she retreated toward the others.
Running back through the slew of death around her, Kirsten started shouting for Anders. By the time she reached the tree line, people from the medical tent had gone to see what she was shouting about. Blood from her hand had splashed down her leg and when she reached them, people began searching for a wound.
Kirsten saw her cousin emerge from behind a group of people surrounding him and Ophelia. Anders shouted for them to move aside. When he reached her, Kirsten began to sob.
“Where are you hurt?” Anders asked her.
Holding out her hand, she shook with the fear that had now caught up with her.
If Rankstine could hold on that long with the power of a single crystal, how were they going to take on a powerful dragonrider? she wondered. As Anders began healing her hand, all she could think about was how difficult it was going to be to survive.
***
Maija looked over her shoulder. The forest’s edge grew distant, fading into the background. Distinct green trees turned a hazy blue as she and Raffa flew away. She felt the rushing wind on her cheeks and in her hair. A bird flying to her right caught her eye and sent her heart skipping. The possibility of running into Merglan alone set all of her senses on edge. Should I turn back? she wondered in a moment of panic. She tried to force the idea from her mind, but it loomed over her like a mountain’s shadow.
