They were decent men who had been ripped from their resting places and forced to serve the high mage. He had come across them at various times. Fighting them did no good. Nothing stopped them from their appointed task. They could be duped, but not killed.
He had escaped such as these on occasion by tricking them, but their ultimate goal was the recovery of Xavier’s book and he couldn’t allow them to get the unholy tome. He had been sharing Julija’s blood often. If he merged his mind with hers and spoke from that place, was it possible to mislead them again?
As they came close to him, still fighting his mythical warriors, he held up his hand. “Be at peace, shadow warriors.”
The moment he spoke, the moment he moved, all eyes found him. Red. Glowing. They looked like snow monsters, yet various shades of gray shadows swirled around them, giving their position away in the world of white as nothing else could. They were silent, but they moved quickly and purposefully, always driving forward toward Julija and the book no matter how many times Isai’s warriors sliced through them, trying to slow them down in vain.
Now he had their attention. He knew better than to physically fight them. He had to gain control of them. They came toward him, fighting through his warriors. They were struck down over and over, but always, they reformed and continued forward.
He held up his hand to check them. “Brothers. I am both mage and Carpathian. My blood calls to you.” He hoped that Julija and he had exchanged enough blood that they would feel the pull of mage blood. He knew their creator, Anatolie, had used a blood sacrifice to enslave them. Julija had her father’s blood in her veins. Isai had hers.
Most stopped moving, as if confused. A few shuffled forward a few steps and then halted. He sent a silent command to his shadow warriors to cease and they, too, went still.
Hear me now, great shadow warriors,
Torn from your resting place without your permission.
I call on earth, fire, water, wind and spirit and bind them to me.
I invoke the law of the shadow.
I invoke the law of all true warriors.
I ask for release for these men who fought with honor.
Spirit, wrest them from the dark mage’s bindings.
As he spoke the snow rose around the warriors in columns of white mixed with gray and black and now purple.
Water, cleanse them from the dark blood of sacrifice.
Blue joined the colors swirling around each of the shadow warriors. They stood very still, holding their weapons in front of them as if they might need them at any moment.
Fire, burn the dark mage’s unholy spell back into his soul and release these honorable shadow warriors wholly from his claim that he may never call them again.
A high-pitched shriek echoed across the battlefield and in the distance, across the meadow near a high bluff, a column of dark red burst into the sky. The warriors were ringed now in colors, and orange-red flames joined the various shades spinning through the shadows.
Wind, carry these men home to their resting place.
Earth, open your arms that you may accept and protect them.
Deliberately, Isai stepped toward the shadow warriors to salute them respectfully.
He felt for them, these men who had lived with honor, fought bravely and yet weren’t allowed their rest.
Dust to dust. Ashes to ashes.
Warriors return, breathe your last.
Air, earth, fire, water, hear my voice, obey my order.
Thrice around your grave do bound, evil sink into the ground.
As he spoke the words to return and protect the shadow warriors, a thunderous clap rent the air. In the distance, across the meadow, rocks slid from the bluff as the earth shook. The bluff collapsed into a pile of boulders, rocks and pebbles as Anatolie sank into the ground.
I now invoke the law of the three, this is my will, so mote it be.
Isai knew Anatolie would try to retaliate, either that, or he would realize the book was already lost to them and he’d slink off. Either way, Isai knew he had to get the shadow warriors free before the dark mage did something to wrest them away from him.
The shadow warriors, almost as one, saluted him and then the wind came through, howling like a banshee, tearing at their indistinct bodies, ripping through the faint streaks of black and gray, tearing them apart and carrying them off into the night to return them to