The Mysts of Sorcery by Remi Black

Author:Remi Black
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: elemental magic, wizards and sorcerers, shapeshifters, swords and sorcery, amnesia
Publisher: Writers Ink Books
Published: 2022-05-22T00:00:00+00:00

~ 8 ~ Wyre and Sorcerer

The wyre trotted toward them. They spread out but remained on the road.

The biggest wolfen was on Desora’s side. The Prime kept his head down as if nosing a trail—but those green-glowing eyes were on her, never wavering, never blinking. Ensorcelled, the Prime controlled the others through the pack bond. Off to the left was a slender wyre, smaller than the others. The female. Head high, she pranced a little. Her mouth stayed open, tongue lolling, as if weary, but her yellow eyes echoed the Prime’s intensity. The other two, one dun-colored, the other dark yet streaked with fawn, came easily, quickly, without the Prime’s stolid focus or the female’s swish of tail and light placement of her paws.

Teyja peeked around Dunstan’s wide shoulders. Her tears had vanished. Eagerness to see a battle flashed in her avid eyes. The apprentice would soon learn that battle was not to be eagerly anticipated.

Granny shook so hard that she juddered Desora. “Steady,” she told the healer.

“I’ve never fought wyre before. Magic doesn’t affect them.”

“Sorcery does. So does elemental power—which we have. And we have the rangers.” But they couldn’t fight the wyre on horseback. “We need to dismount. You first.”

As Granny thudded to the road, Desora watched the wyre. They moved easily, a ground-eating pace that looked deceptively slow. With Granny off the gelding, she swung over her leg then slid down.

Rearguard they may have been, but the two young rangers had stopped when they did, without needing a call. Brax and Challoch, Serre and Ferrac must be far on the road to Mulgrum. Ivhart dismounted slowly. Dunstan slid down. He caught her gelding’s reins and drew it away before handing the reins for her and Ivhart’s horse to Teyja. Thundering hoofbeats sounded, but Desora had time only to see the two rangers line up on her left. They set black-fletched arrows to their bowstrings.

Then Brax appeared on her right. He was out of breath, chest heaving. How he’d known to return and how he’d managed it so quickly she didn’t know. She only cared that he was beside her. Of Challoch there was no sigh. Nor were the two older rangers here. Sent on to Mulgrum, she reckoned.

She grazed his arm and caught his quick glance then focused on the wyre. The four trotted closer and closer, so close that she saw the markings on their faces. The fawn-streaked one kept his head cast a little to the left, as if his neck muscles were taut. The female remained laughing. The Prime had lifted his head. He barked once then twice more.

Is that a signal?

Brax’s drawn sword crossed defensively before her body. Desora shifted his arm, lowering it. “Where is Challoch?”

“Behind. No Lady Moon last night, but the sorcerer could still have worked magic to make more wyre. Or others could have waited at a camp.”

Fear etched her spine at the thought of fighting more wyre.

And the wyre continued to laugh.

“Keep them off balance, Granny. Knock them over with Air.

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