A Prince's Errand

by Dan Zangari

  “This almost feels like old times,” Igan said, grinning. “Too bad we’re missing the others.”

  Cornar nodded. Their band didn’t feel complete. If everyone had been there, four other mages would be walking at the party’s head. Iltar would obviously be in the lead, followed closely by old Amendal. Cornar could almost hear the speculations of the old conjurer as they crossed the hall. The other two—a lanky wizard named Hex and a short scrawny illusionist named Hagen—would be right beside Cornar. Hagen—the man who trained Hem—would undoubtedly mutter cautious, almost terrified, assumptions about what lay ahead. And all the while, Hex would make playful jabs at Hagen’s wary disposition.

  A startling sight abruptly drew Cornar from his nostalgic reverie.

  “Amazing!” Gregan exclaimed. Several other warriors murmured in agreement. Cornar stood silent in awe.

  Four white statues—akin to those outside—stood at the western end of the enormous space, and one was… a dragon. The stone behemoth stood defiantly, as if confronting Cornar’s disbelief about the existence of such creatures.

  “That thing is huge!” Ordreth exclaimed, pointing at the dragon. “I’ve never seen a statue so big…”

  “You’d think the wings would break off,” Vargos chortled. “Look how thin they are…”

  The old barsionist had a point. Cornar had some knowledge about sculpting stone, since his son was a stonemason. The way the wings hovered above the ground seemed impossible.

  “Let’s keep going,” Cornar said. He glanced about, noting that they were plenty far from anyone else. “We need to find a room large enough to fit us all.”

  The party continued past the statues. Enormous staircases—wide enough to fit thirty men abreast—led to a balcony three stories above the floor of the enormous chamber. Several oversized corridors—though not as big as the towering halls branching from the main room—were spaced along the balcony. Each rose three stories tall. Cornar led his men to the center corridor.

  “I feel like we’re in a mythical palace,” Midar said.

  Kalder nodded. “It does look that way.”

  “This place isn’t like the other buildings, is it?” Hem asked. The men agreed that three different architects seemed to have designed the various buildings.

  At the end of the corridor they came to another set of stairs. They were narrower than the others they had climbed, rising only two stories before ending at a landing. A normal-sized doorway stood opposite the stairs. It emptied into a hallway running perpendicular to the corridor they just traversed. Closed doors, spaced at random intervals, lined the hallway.

  “Now where?” Nordal asked, sounding agitated.

  “Still grumpy, Nordal?” Midar asked in a mocking tone.

  Nordal just glared at Midar. Cornar had heard of Nordal’s tantrum during their search today.

  “Let’s fan out,” Cornar suggested, “and see if any of these rooms are large enough to hold us.”

  Soon they found a sufficiently large room, a foyer adjoining a much larger council chamber. Pristine furniture lined the walls—couches and chairs with unusually angular designs. Realistic paintings hung above the furniture, depicting scenes across Kalda. There were even pictures of dragons, most of the creatures a shimmering metallic white, almost a platinum color.

  Cornar stood at the entrance while the others rested on the furniture or leaned against the walls. Most were eager to hear about the latest meeting Cornar had attended in the Imperial Tent.

  “I know many of you are anxious to hear what was reported,” Cornar began. “I’ll tell you, but that’s not why I’ve called this meeting.” Many of the warriors perked up, their expressions intrigued. “Within the northern parts of this structure, Kaescis discovered a hidden cove containing ships of ancient design. His men are currently investigating the condition of the vessels, but their initial report suggested they were seaworthy.”

  “Even after all this time?” blurted one of the younger warriors. “But aren’t they thousands of years old?” Mutters of agreement came from the men. Cornar let them voice their speculations before continuing.

  “A weapon cache was also found. Each of the weapons is the stuff of legend. Swords with their blades materializing out of thin air and bursting with magical effects—”

  “Oh, I need to get me one of those!” Nordal exclaimed, his mood shifting.

  Cornar grinned. “A few partially constructed tevisrals were also found in what the others assumed were workshops. But none of this,” he gestured with his hand, “really matters.”

  Silence hung in the room as Cornar took a deep breath. “I’ve come to realize this expedition will bring folly upon the world. Kaescis will deluge Kalda in blood if he takes the wonders of the Keepers from Dalgilur. As you all know, I’ve had dreams about the past. What some of you don’t know, though, is that those dreams were meant to change the course of this expedition.”

  The men listened attentively. None treated Cornar’s experiences in that dreamland lightly. Each was familiar with Cornar’s intuition, and they took these dreams as an extension of it.

  “Although I don’t fully comprehend the reasons why, I know that only I can do what must be done…”

  Cornar picked his next words with care, since he knew that his men would follow him without question. “What I must do will be dangerous, perhaps even fatal. This meeting isn’t to conscript you to this cause, but to warn you of it. Only I can perform this task.”

  “What are you getting at, Cor?” Gregan asked warily. Cornar sternly gazed at the auburn-haired man, then studied each of his men. “I’m going to kill Kaescis,” he said grimly. “The prince must not be allowed to leave Dalgilur…”

  A few gasps echoed within the room.

  “Uncle…” Ordreth muttered, worry contorting his face.

  “That’s suicide!” Nordal shouted, rising to his feet. “He wields the Darkness magic, like Master Iltar.”

  “Sounds reckless…” Vargos grumbled, shaking his head. “Have you forgotten what the prince did to the elves?”

  “You can’t do this alone, Cor!” Midar shook his head.

  More objections resounded throughout the room. Kalder, however, silently rose from his seat on one of the couches. He crossed to Cornar and placed a hand on his mentor’s shoulder. “If you engage Kaescis, I will be right beside you.”

  “As will I,” Ordreth declared stoically, tears in his eyes.

  One by one, the warriors declared their willingness to fight beside their mentor.

  “You all are a bunch of fools,” Vargos said, looking at the ceiling.

  “Won’t you fight with us, Master Vargos?” Hem demanded.

  The old barsionist chortled. “Well, of course, but I still think you are fools.”

  “Doesn’t that make you a fool, too?” Midar asked matter-of-factly.

  Vargos shrugged.

  Cornar eyed each of the men. A knot formed in his stomach. There was no way to dissuade them from their zeal. They reminded him of his father’s Elites.

  “So tell us this plan, Cor,” Nordal said. “How are we going to kill these damned Tilters?”

  Tilters? Cornar didn’t understand the reference, but he assumed Nordal was talking about the Mindolarnians. Nordal often came up with the oddest nicknames.

  “I plan on getting Kaescis alone—how, I haven’t figured out exactly.”

  “You’re definitely going to need help with that,” Gregan said. “He is rarely alone.”

  “Do you really think you can take him on by yourself?” Midar asked.

  Cornar nodded, then related the battle of Laelin Lake to his men. He also expounded on the nature of his weapons, deducing that he could use Kaescis’s magic against him.

  “There’s another vital component to the… assassination,” Igan interjected. “We need to strike when the Sapphire Guard arrives.”

  The wizard’s declaration drew confused glances. Igan then related his speculation about Solidin’s ability to sen
se Dalgilur. Some of the men nodded, remembering how Krindal had guided the fleet in the storm. The arrival of the Sapphire Guard became a subject of debate. Timing the attack with the elves’ undoubted assault seemed impossible. Igan suggested they wait, then turn on the Mindolarnians during the battle. That would give them the best possible chance for survival.

  “Foolish…” Vargos grumbled. “Just foolish.”

  For the next hour they discussed ideas for executing Kaescis’s demise. The consensus among the warriors was that they should deal with Kaescis’s guards and hold the line against any possible reinforcements. Nordal, however, wasn’t in agreement. He wanted to steal some of the weapons found by the Mindolarnians. The bloodthirsty warrior assumed those weapons could withstand Kaescis’s blade.

  After another hour of discussion, Cornar changed the course of the meeting. “We need to find an alluring discovery, or at least something we can make alluring.”

  “What about the scholars?” Cordel asked. “I assume they will continue searching with us.”

  “I don’t trust any of them to not run off and tell Kaescis of our betrayal,” Igan said somberly.

  “Jahevial might be willing to side with us,” Aron said. His words drew surprised glances. “Today he offered us a deal to help him smuggle tevisrals for the Necrotic Order.”

  Igan looked to Cornar with a questioning gaze.

  “Did he say anything else?” Cornar asked.

  “No, but he did seem incensed with the Mindolarnians—as are the other scholars.”

  “The more fools the better.” Vargos sighed with exasperation. “Even with them, we’re still outnumbered.”

  “Feel Jahevial out, Aron,” Cornar said. “And agree to help him. But don’t disclose our plans.” Aron nodded.

  Cornar then checked his timepiece tevisral. It was nearly two hours before midnight. “Why don’t we get some exploring in for the evening. Tomorrow morning let’s meet here and discuss our finds.”

  * * * * *

  Solidin could feel the gap closing between him and Dalgilur. Since sailing from Klindala, his awareness of the isle had grown substantially. Now he could practically see it across the horizon—though they weren’t near the Anomalous Corridor.

  He sucked in a calming breath as he took one last look across the bow, getting the approximate heading for the Vigilance. The ship hadn’t veered off course today.

  Other elves were busy manning the rigging as Solidin crossed the main deck, making his way to the enclosed bridge.

  “Well?” Captain Teviz demanded in Elvish.

  “The ship is still on course,” Solidin said, replying in the same tongue. He strode past Teviz toward the sea charts. After a few moments, Solidin pointed at the center of the Anomalous Corridor—the place men called the World’s Frown. “It is there, I know it.”

  Teviz glared with apprehension. “You could be dooming us all,” the captain said warily.

  Soon, more footfalls echoed into the bridge. Gladis and Kaldarin came to stand beside Solidin. Since their voyage from the north, Gladis had come to accept Solidin’s ability to sense Dalgilur. Both he and Kaldarin were Solidin’s strongest supporters.

  “You are showing signs of cowardice, Teviz,” Kaldarin said pointedly.

  “Someone must be the voice of reason,” Teviz retorted. “Nothing survives the Anomalous Corridor.”

  “If Solidin believes we will survive it, then we will,” Gladis said matter-of-factly.

  Their defense pleased Solidin. Grinning, he traced a route with his finger on the sea chart. “We need to sail around the island,” Solidin said. “Approach it from the southwest. The Mindolarnians will undoubtedly come from the north.”

  Teviz was still agitated. “Why not sail directly to the island? We can move along its coast and lie in wait for the Mindolarnians to arrive.”

  Solidin turned a stern gaze to Teviz. “No. We must stay beyond the horizon of the island. The Mindolarnians know we are headed to Dalgilur. If perchance they have beaten us to the island, they will be searching the northern waters. So, approaching from the south will give us the advantage of surprise. Besides, the northern shores are too rocky for any moorings.”

  “But the prince is a shrewd tactician,” Kaldarin interjected. “Will he not suspect such a maneuver?”

  “Why not cloak the ship?” Gladis suggested. “We can move along the shores.”

  “Agreed,” Teviz almost shouted. “The less time we spend in the Corridor the better.”

  “Do not let your fear cloud your judgment,” Solidin chided the captain. “The Mindolarnians were cunning. They undoubtedly have a means to detect a concealed ship, not to mention the wake the Vigilance would leave behind—we might as well sail visibly.” He shook his head. “No… we sail around the island.”

  “That will add several hours to our voyage,” Teviz said with a scowl. “Hours that would be best spent away from danger.”

  Solidin gazed hard at Teviz. “Perhaps I should maroon you on one of these isles.” He gestured to the islands along the edge of the Anomalous Corridor.

  “How dare you!” Teviz’s face flared with anger. Both Kaldarin and Gladis started with surprise. Neither of them expected that Solidin had the gall to threaten the son of a High Lord—but then again, Solidin was the commander of the Sapphire Guard.

  Still steadfast, Solidin continued staring at Teviz. “I will plot a course for your crew to follow.” Then Solidin waggled his finger. “No deviations. Once we circle around, moor the ship within a forested cove along the southwest. The trees will conceal the ship.” Solidin intended to lie in wait for the Mindolarnians. But if they were already on Dalgilur, mooring to the south would enable an effective sneak attack.

  * * * * *

  Cornar and several of the groups searched the level where they’d found the council chamber. He took Igan and Kamdir to the western reaches of the enormous structure while the others spread elsewhere. A few of them climbed to the higher floors. Ordreth and his group decided to discover whether this wing rose to the mountaintops.

  After an hour of searching, a faint but constant whistle caught their attention.

  “That sounds like wind whipping against rock,” Igan noted.

  “Sounds like it’s coming from that way.” Kamdir pointed to their right. “But what would be doing that?”

  Cornar looked long where the young warrior gestured. The hallway turned to the right after nearly a hundred phineals. Why would we be hearing wind? he wondered.

  “Come on…” Cornar trailed off, moving down the hallway.

  The whistling grew louder as they turned the corner. They followed the noise, winding back and forth through the maze of corridors. The walls they passed turned from pristine to dingy. Dust and dirt soon marred the floor. Light coming from the walls and ceiling faded—whatever was illuminating this part of the structure wasn’t functioning. The hallway seemed more cavern than building.

  Kamdir looked to Igan and Cornar warily. Igan whispered an incantation, mustering his ball of light. The ball hovered over his shoulder, illuminating the ruined hallway. Focused ahead, Cornar turned another corner and started with surprise.

  The left wall was gone, as was part of the floor. Some of the ceiling was missing, too, more so than the floor. The entire opening spread about twenty phineals, allowing a view to the ocean. Debris littered what remained of the hallway’s floor.

  Cornar crept to the edge, peering out the opening. The level below them was also exposed to the elements. Part of that lower level’s flooring was also missing. Cornar could see two levels below them, but not much beyond that. A sheer rock face dropped into the ocean, about four floors below the last exposed level of the Hall of the Guardians.

  “What on Kalda…” Kamdir muttered.

  Igan stepped beside Cornar, examining the debris and the broken parts of the wall. “It looks like something blew this apart,” the wizard said, running his hand along the floor’s rough edge.

  “What could have
done that?” Kamdir demanded. “Isn’t this island protected?”

  Cornar narrowed his eyes. The very sight of the opening was unnerving. He braced himself against the remaining part of the wall and leaned out the opening. The floor above them also looked demolished, as was the one beyond that. What happened here?

  What’s wrong, Cor?” Igan asked.

  “Take a look,” Cornar said, stepping back into the hallway. Igan braced himself and poked his head out, intently studying the destruction above them.

  ”What is it, Cor?” Kamdir asked, adjusting his belt.

  “I think something—” Faint voices carried through the broken hallway.

  “Looks like someone else heard the wind,” Igan said flatly.

  The voices grew louder, and then Gregan appeared at the far end, with Haetan and Vargos in tow. They soon reached the demolished portion of the hallway.

  “This is odd, isn’t it?” Gregan asked warily, stepping over the debris and into the broken hallway. He carefully climbed over the rubble and stopped beside Igan.

  “It’s like something blasted the walls,” Haetan said, looking up and down as he followed Gregan. Haetan too had auburn hair, long and curly. Both he and Gregan shared similar features. But that was often expected with cousins.

  Vargos grunted as the two warriors joined Cornar. The old barsionist examined the broken floor and cast a spell. Brilliant blue barsion shot from his hands, stopping up the hole in the floor. “That’s better,” Vargos said, and finally joined the others.

  “Vargos, why don’t you extend this,” Igan said, gesturing through the opening. “That way we can see how far this destruction has spread.”

  The old barsionist nodded approvingly, then cast another spell.

  “Any idea what did this?” Gregan asked Cornar.

  “It looks like something collided with the mountain,” Cornar said. “But I don’t know how that’s possible…”

  It wasn’t long before Vargos finished his spell. His barsion ramp extended a few hundred phineals—suspended above the water like Dalgilur’s unnatural piers.