Dorian Wraith's Arc

Chapter 10 of 27

Dorian ran into the trees with his bare feet slapping the dirt. He caught glimpses of the blue tunic between trunks, then lost them, then caught them again. "Evander, stop," he called. "Please. Just let me talk." Evander did not turn. He cut left through a stand of pines and vanished. Dorian pushed harder. Branches scraped his chest. He came out on a slope near the forest's edge and slowed, chest heaving. The blue was gone. He turned in a slow circle and heard only his own breath. Then a scream tore through the trees. It was short and sharp and it was Evander. Dorian ran toward it. He shoved through low brush and stopped behind a wide trunk. On the road below, six armored men held Evander by the arms. A tall man in a blue cloak stood in front of him. King Ambrose. The king lifted Evander's chin with one gloved hand and studied his face like a coin. "Let him go," Dorian said, stepping out. His voice shook. "He's not going with you." The king looked up. He did not seem surprised. "You must be the witch," he said. "My son ran from a palace to be with one of your kind. He'll be cured of that at home." His men laughed. Evander shook his head at Dorian, mouthing no. "Take your hands off him," Dorian said. The king smiled. "Or what, boy? You have no power over me. Or over my son! He’ll either renounce you or perish. No son of mine will be with a witch lover!" Something broke in Dorian's chest. Heat rushed up his arms without a word or a shape to hold it. He tried to pull it back and could not. The air around him folded once and then blew outward. A white flash. A hard crack. The soldiers left their feet. Dorian felt himself lift and slam down against a root. His ears rang. He rolled to his side. The armored men lay still in the dirt around him, some groaning, most not moving at all. He tried to stand and his arms would not hold him. Through the ringing he heard boots. He forced his head up. King Ambrose was on his feet, cloak singed, one hand clamped around Evander's arm. Evander was awake and reaching back toward Dorian. "Dorian," Evander said. "Get up. Get up." Dorian pushed at the ground. His body would not answer. The king dragged Evander toward a horse at the tree line and threw him across the saddle. He mounted behind him. Dorian's vision narrowed to a bright point. The last thing he saw was Evander's hand, open, still reaching. Then the point closed and there was nothing.