Invictus approached the throne and climbed the steps, coming face to face with his former queen. “We need to put a stop to this before it goes any further.”
“Put a stop to what?”
“A war will not benefit either of us and will only serve to kill countless followers.”
“You will soon find out how wrong you are.”
“You will not succeed, Evona.”
“Wrong. I have already succeeded. The King of Armena is dead and soon the Philosophers will be broken. With no one to lead them, and no one to protect them, the citizens of Armena will die. The last kingdom of surface elves will be gone.”
“You know I will not let that happen.”
“You know? What do you know? You didn’t even know one of your own was going to betray the King of Armena. Venal, your precious shield against the Krone, could not see past his own vengeance.”
“Please, Evona. Stop this now, while you still can, or I promise you will lose everything.”
“Look at you standing there all noble. Invictus, creator of the elves, master of the elven pantheon, but not for long. With no one to worship you and give you power, you will fade into the obscurity of history, and I will rule over the elves.” His former queen turned around and marched back to her throne. She sat down with a vengeful smile and said, “You may leave the same way you came in.”
There did not seem to be anything else to say. Invictus shook his head and receded down the long stairway. There would be war now. There was no way to avoid it, no way to appease her. It broke his heart to see one part of his creation fight against the other part, but this was a game for control of the heavens, and Evona could not be allowed to win.
THE END
Note from the author:
I sincerely hope you enjoyed the second volume of A Prayer for Peace. I would greatly appreciate your feedback with an honest review on Amazon.com, or you can send me an email at [email protected].
First and foremost, I’m always looking to grow and improve as a writer. It is reassuring to hear what works, as well as receive constructive feedback on what needs improvement. Second, starting out as an unknown author is exceedingly difficult, and Amazon reviews go a long way toward making the journey out of anonymity possible. Please take a few minutes to write an honest review.
Best regards,
Jeff Henrikson
If you enjoyed book two of A Prayer for Peace, please continue with the next volume in the four volume series. Book three starts right where book two left off and continues to build the action and story. Here is part of the first chapter of book three.
Chapter 80: Stranger on the North Shore
Evisar boarded the sturdy twenty-foot by twenty-foot raft after Xander and waited for the rest of his companions. Xander stashed the magnificent diamond carrying the High Wizard of Kentar away in the pouch around his waist as Mestel revived Nero from his deep sleep. Evisar was indebted to Nero for saving all of their lives, but there was no telling what Nero might think if he knew Xander was carrying a diamond the size of a clenched fist. No, Evisar needed Nero to be thinking about rescuing the First Heir of Armena and nothing else. That was the only way Evisar was ever going to return to Armena with his brother and restore their family name.
Evisar laughed softly to himself once again at how Xander had beaten Gram’s truth spell with a play on words, misdirecting one of the greatest wizards on Tellus, while all the while the gem lay hidden in a tree on the northern edge of the forest.
Nero seemed groggy once awake, but Mestel led him onto the raft easily enough. Valihorn walked sheepishly onto the raft behind Nero and said, “Sorry I had to put you to sleep. I hope you understand.”
“Of course. You only met me a few days ago. Trust is earned, not given away. Don’t give it another thought.”
Valihorn nodded at the friendly words. “You look a little shaky. Are you sure you are all right?”
Nero raised his arms above his head in a stretch. “I feel great. I feel like I just had a mid-afternoon nap.”
Evisar turned away as the conversation continued and nearly fell off the raft in surprise as he saw something come flying at him. He reached out reflexively with his right arm just in time to catch the long pole Mestel had thrown at him. Mestel smiled at him sincerely as he threw his own pole onto the raft and bent down to heave the raft away from the shore. The raft was immensely heavy, especially with four elves on it. Evisar looked on with some amusement as his brother pushed with all his might, only to have the raft barely move.
“Can I give you a hand?”
“No. I’ll manage.”
Evisar chuckled and shook his head. His brother had worshipped Martel since he was very young, and one of the dogmas of his god was that self-reliance was the path to self-sufficiency. His brother needed his help, but he would never ask for it. Evisar dropped his pole on the deck and stepped ashore to help his brother push. Together, the two elves maneuvered the raft out into the river and jumped back aboard.
Mestel looked at him in good cheer and said, “I don’t seem to be as strong as I used to be.”
Evisar slapped him on the shoulder. “Give yourself some time. I’m sure you will be your old self in a few days.”
“I hope not. I need to be more cunning and wise if I am to serve my god well. I can’t expect to find Devin by bludgeoning my way through every situation.”
Evisar nodded his head and looked away to the shoreline on the other side of the river. Seeing nothing but trees, grassland, and water, he took up his pole and watched his brother do the same. Together they pushed the raft toward the middle of the river. Once the water got too deep, they started using the poles as makeshift oars. It was slow going, especially with the mass of the raft, but luckily, they just needed to float the raft to the middle of the river and let the current do the rest. The companions were bound for Wessex, or whatever remained of Wessex after the destruction of the Old Shetley Fortress and the creation of the twin portals, in order to gain Austen’s advice. The blue portal that had been contained inside Austen’s wizard tower now loomed high above the trees like a beacon.
As the raft floated lazily along, Evisar’s thoughts turned unbidden to his brother. He still didn’t know what to make of Mestel. Jefon had died at the hands of Gram five days ago, but miraculously came back to life as Mestel three days later. It was the stuff of legend, but Evisar had seen it happen and could not deny Mestel’s power. He had saved all of their lives in the dungeon and he had the gift of prophecy. In addition, while Jefon had charitably been a fair shot with the bow, Mestel was lethally accurate with a speed that spoke of godly influence.
Yet things were not right between the two of them. Mestel no longer wanted to avenge their father’s death, and his interest in finding the First Heir of Armena arose from his holy duty to free the wrongly imprisoned, not because he wanted to see Devin rightfully restored to the throne. Mestel also would have been perfectly content to leave Evisar behind if he had proceeded into the Underworld, whereas Jefon would never have considered leaving his side.
Not wanting to think too deeply about this unpleasant subject, Evisar looked around the raft to see what everyone else was doing. Nero and Valihorn stood at the other end scanning the countryside for signs of trouble. Evisar’s eyes wandered to the middle of the raft where he nearly missed Xander down on his knees praying. Xander was a half-elf full of secrets and always a constant surprise to Evisar. He had seen Xander pray every morning to gain Fortuna’s favor, but he had never seen Xander pray in the middle of the day, or in such an open way. Evisar thought of asking about his renewed faith but knew better than to interrupt a priest while he was praying. The only thing Evisar could think of was that perhaps Xander’s near death experience had changed him.
Evisar was jolted back to reality when Mestel softly said, “There is a man in black on the north side of the river.”
Evisar was constantly amazed at Mestel’s keen senses. His eyes quickly scanned the n
orth side of the river and settled on a figure wearing nothing but black. Since the stranger was stone still, he was barely visible against the shadows of the trees more than a hundred feet away. The figure’s head was down, concealing his face. Time seemed to slow, the wind grew silent, and the river was uncannily flat.
“I can feel its power, and I will have it. Give it to me and you may live.” It was as though the world went quiet so the stranger’s words could be clearly heard from so far away.
Mestel spoke first. “He’s talking about the ring. He has traveled through the portal in order to bring the ring back to his master.”
Evisar was so engrossed in his own thoughts that he had completely forgotten the cursed ring Valihorn had placed on his own finger. Freeing the ring from the Krone witch’s tomb had opened two portals between Tellus and the Plane of Chaos, completely obliterating the Old Shetley Fortress and Austen’s tower.
Evisar yelled across the water, “Sir, you are well met, but we don’t know what you are talking about.”
In response, the stranger slowly lifted his head so that everyone on the boat could see his ruby-red eyes. So terrible was his half-decayed skeleton face that Evisar took a step backward and nearly slipped off the raft. The red eyes blazed into his thoughts and consumed him.
Mestel spoke quickly, “He is a lich servant of Seker, God of the Dead. His is the face I saw when Gram cast a death spell on me.”
Xander, who had been kneeling in the middle of the boat praying, jumped to his feet and yelled out in despair. “No. No! Not again. Never again. You won’t take me.”
Xander stepped backward trying to get away. Evisar did not understand his hysteria. Xander took another step, and then another. Evisar moved to stop him at the last moment, but it was too late. With terror in his eyes, Xander fell off the back end of the raft with a loud splash.
Evisar reached down to pull Xander out of the water when his brother yelled, “Look out!”
Acknowledgements:
From start to finish, publishing a book is hard work. Writing the words on the page is difficult, but it’s the support and editing talent of the people behind the scenes that deserve much of the credit, for they help willingly and without reward.
I would like to thank my amazing wife for watching the kids and keeping our lives on track. I would also like to thank Donna for her artistic talent in creating the map of Tellus and William Kenney for the beautiful cover to this book. Special thanks go out to my brother, Mark, for his skill and guidance. How he managed to publish four books in the time it took me to publish two is still a mystery, but I’m perfectly happy to let him navigate the mine field of publishing and marketing first.
Lastly, I would like to thank my editors of which there are many, and Eric Adelizzi in particular. I trust each of you know what your contribution was to this finished product. Thanks for unselfishly giving of yourselves to make this novel several times better than it otherwise would have been.
Do the Gods Despise Us? Page 31
