Guardians of the Twilight Lands by L. Jagi Lamplighter

Author:L. Jagi Lamplighter [Lamplighter, L. Jagi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Children's Books, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Fantasy & Magic, fantasy, Teen & Young Adult, Sword & Sorcery, Children's eBooks, science fiction, Fantasy & Scary Stories
ISBN: 9781953739179
Publisher: Wisecraft Publishing
Published: 2023-09-02T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Nine:

Morthbrood on the Moors

Rachel flipped through the air, spinning end over end. Silver sparkles glittered across her body. She gripped both Vroomie and her wand with all her might. Then, she slammed into something and dropped to the ground. She lay panting on the damp earth, winded and surrounded by mist. The breath had been knocked from her. She gasped, attempting to catch some of it. Where she had struck the standing stone, her back ached with fiery pain.

With a groan, she sat up. Her heart leapt into her mouth as she felt the length of her bristleless. A gasp of relief escaped her lips when she confirmed that the steeplechaser had not been damaged. Still aching, she rolled onto Vroomie and shot back towards Sigfried.

She had left him unguarded! Sigfried lay slumped on the ground. A hunched woman moved out of the fog toward him, knife raised. Rachel had no time to aim her wand. She was breathing too heavily to whistle. Instead, she flew directly at the attacker, slamming into the woman’s abdomen shoulder-first. Rachel was not traveling fast, but she hit hard enough to knock the woman to the ground.

It turned out that she had struck fast enough to knock her opponent over but not fast enough to get away. As the woman toppled, she grabbed the haft of Rachel’s broom, pulling it down with her. They ended up on the ground together. The woman lifted her knife and plunged it toward Rachel’s face. Rachel twisted her wrist, pointing her wand at her assailant. Blue sparks struck the woman, accompanied by a burst of fresh-smelling pine scent.

The assailant froze in place, knife still raised. Rachel rolled out from under the blade and jumped to her feet, yanking her steeplechaser out of the woman’s frozen hand. She also took the attacker’s knife and flute for good measure. Then, she leaned over her blood-brother, terrified. Was he still breathing?

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. Sigfried was snoring, probably a sleep hex.

“Obé.” Rachel raised her forefinger in the Word of Ending gesture. She cast more bey-athes, this time remembering to place some of the shields behind them. No one would sneak up on them again.

Siggy jerked awake. He leapt to his feet just in time. Their opponents surged toward them, emboldened by the gap in Siggy’s spray of spells. The Morthbrood moved closer. Sigfried had dropped his trumpet, but he waved his wand from one side of the group to the other, firing spells indiscriminately.

Of the four people rushing them, two were thrown back, one was wrapped in vines, and one ended up—somehow—surrounded by a Glepnir band but hovering horizontally four feet off the ground. Rachel had never seen that happen. The person must have tried to jump out of the way and had dived into the band instead. Rachel paralyzed one of those who had been thrown back before he could rise again. The remaining Morthbrood backpedaled. Rachel again noted the canticler behind them, freeing the frozen from hexes.

The stone circles were thick with mist now.

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