A Prince's Errand

by Dan Zangari

  Leaving the dead behind her, Laeyit hurried to the balcony. It was as large as the chamber where they had erected the war camp. Was this a landing platform for the sha’kalda? she wondered, walking to the western side of the balcony, the side overlooking the ocean.

  There was no apparent way down from this mountaintop roost. Perhaps she would have to scale the mountain… Laeyit started as she reached the edge of the balcony. A massive crater marred the western side of the mountain. So much of the mountainside was gone that parts of the Hall of the Guardians were exposed. As she scanned the crater a shimmering glint caught her eye.

  What is that?

  A rushing of wind pushed against Laeyit. She turned as the draconic mis’thralim soared past Dalgilur’s buildings and toward the pier.

  It’s going to destroy the ships! Her lips twisted into a snarl. What were they going to do now? There was no way for them to escape the island without—

  Her expression lightened, remembering the vessels found to the north. That might do, she thought. They could use one of the ancient vessels once the fighting was finished.

  Laeyit turned back to that shimmering light, drawn to it by curiosity. She removed a shallow domed tevisral from her tunic. It was a type of monocle. Laeyit placed it over her left eye and closed her right, touching the dome in angular patterns. Soon, she saw through the tevisral.

  While refocusing her gaze to find the light in the crater, Laeyit slid her hand along the tevisral’s edge, magnifying her vision.

  Her curiosity, however, turned to horrified perplexity. “Kaescis!” she cursed, seeing the helmet of her beloved prince wedged against the rock, its polished gold reflecting sunlight.

  How? No… Kaescis couldn’t be somewhere down there? Could he? She remembered him speaking of going to confront the Butcher of Tor’s accursed son, somewhere within the upper reaches of the Hall of the Guardians. She imagined Kaescis falling from a great height…

  No, she told herself, he would have been able to prevent such a fall. Dozens of tragic scenarios ran through her head, and a tear trickled down her cheek. Then her greatest fear confronted her. No—she shook her head—he’s not dead. He was chosen by the Messenger.

  After quelling her fears, Laeyit uttered an incantation, mustering enthralling tentacles. They shot across the crater, zooming toward Kaescis’s helmet. Once the helmet was in her grasp, Laeyit pulled it up the mountainside. She opened her barsion sphere and took the helmet into her hands.

  “Where are you, Kaescis?”

  * * * * *

  Kaescis staggered against another blow from Mister Dol’shir. How was the man able to land so many hits? Dol’shir wasn’t even enhanced, yet he countered every blow Kaescis attempted to land. Somehow, Mister Dol’shir was empowered. And to make matters worse, the voices were a blaring mess that was near distracting.

  Suddenly, that serrated dagger swung toward Kaescis’s face once again, but he swatted the weapon with his left gauntlet. Blade and armor met amid a veil of blackness persistent around the gauntlet. Kaescis’s Triaindium Suit had repurposed the stolen Ko’delish, emitting a damaging veil. It would have proved devastating against most opponents’ weapons, but this was not the case with Mister Dol’shir. The man’s weapons simply reabsorbed the damaging veil, then used the reabsorbed magic.

  It was an endless cycle that wreaked havoc on Kaescis’s armor.

  Though he lacked his helmet, Kaescis could tell his Triaindium Suit was reaching its capacity for absorption. Black light filled the gemstones, with occasional streaks of green and pink—spells cast from the treacherous scholar, Jahevial.

  Mister Dol’shir lunged again; his serrated dagger scraped against the golden plating of Kaescis’s left gauntlet—blackness wisped from the blade to a gemstone along his forearm.

  And then the gem cracked.

  No… Shocked, Kaescis retreated, warding off his foe with his Ko’delish blade. Aunok’sha! Kaescis pleaded. Lend me strength against my foe!

  Mister Dol’shir advanced, closing the gap quickly. He struck with both weapons: his short-sword sliced across Kaescis’s breastplate while the serrated dagger grated along Kaescis’s gauntleted forearm.

  And then the impossible happened—the cracked gemstone shattered.

  “The elven races also saw through Cheserith’s deceit. None of them worshiped the abominable creature. They kept to themselves on Tagal’shilm, the northwestern continent of the world.”

  - From The Thousand Years War, Part I, page 48

  Cornar repulsed Kaescis, forcing the prince down another corridor. Since Jahevial had joined the fight, they had pushed Kaescis through several halls. The prince’s armor seemed weakened by Cornar’s onslaught of blows. Several of the gemstones on the armor had cracked or shattered, and the persistent mist around parts of the plate had dissipated.

  The prince staggered, then turned, dashing down the corridor.

  “What a coward!” Jahevial shouted, then uttered an incantation. Several acidic orbs appeared, floating around the scholar.

  Cornar didn’t skip a beat. He chased after Kaescis with Jahevial in tow. The prince ran full tilt down a long corridor, glowing a faint green hue.

  He’s healing himself, Cornar thought, watching as arpran magic surged from Kaescis’s hands. Seeing the arpran spell made Cornar revise his estimate of the prince’s abilities. How adept in the magical arts was Kaescis?

  Kaescis abruptly turned into an adjoining corridor, briefly disappearing from view.

  “We can’t let him get back to the war camp!” Jahevial shouted to Cornar. Cornar didn’t reply. He just kept running. They turned the corner, finding a stairwell that led down two floors, separated by a landing. A hallway continued from the bottom step, but Cornar couldn’t see how far it went. Kaescis, however, was nowhere to be found.

  “Wait…” Cornar stopped abruptly. He must have shrouded himself in invisibility.

  Jahevial halted, breathing heavily beside Cornar. Cornar calmed his breathing, listening for any trace of the prince. The necromancer-scholar shifted uneasily. “Where did he go?” Jahevial asked warily.

  “How proficient are you at casting dispels?” Cornar asked.

  Jahevial answered by uttering an incantation. Within seconds, off-white light surged down the stairs and into the hall below them.

  “Good, keep that up,” Cornar said, hurrying down the steps.

  * * * * *

  Igan adjusted the full sack over his shoulder as he exited the vault. With their party possessing those orange rocks he was practically useless. But so were the other mages.

  There was light in the sitting room. Shadows cast by torchlight danced throughout the space. Nordal had suggested the idea of traveling by torchlight, since the wizards wouldn’t be able to muster their globes of light. It was quite ingenious, actually.

  Most of the warriors wore bandages. But Igan’s gaze was drawn to those more severely wounded. Brendar’s arms and left leg were bound in several places and Jorkal helped the man to stand. Both of Kren’s legs were wrapped tight, and he lay on a makeshift litter of fanisar shafts and sloglien sacks. Luckily, the sacks were so strong that not even the weight of a man could tear them. Vaemar wasn’t as fortunate as Kren. Poor Vaemar had lost his left hand. Midar had managed to stop the bleeding, but there was no way to save the hand. Another warrior—Laerin—also lay on a litter. His abdomen was bandaged, and his left arm was wrapped from wrist to shoulder.

  “Are you ready to go, Master Igan?” Kalder asked, holding a torch. Igan nodded.

  Nordal took the lead of the party with Midar and Cordel. They filed out of the room-turned-battlefield and soon everyone was traveling down the darkened corridors.

  The crystals extinguished the light from the walls and ceiling for quite a distance, but the torchlight managed to make the halls visible.

  Their plan was quite simple, especially after Cornar’s last command: Get everyone back to the Promised Maiden without the Mindolarnians noticing them. It would be the
safest place. Many of the warriors wanted to go after Cornar, but Igan hadn’t the faintest idea of where he had chased Kaescis. Besides, Cornar didn’t want them following him. Igan too wanted to aid Cornar, but this is what their leader wanted—to face Kaescis alone.

  Cornar was confident he could defeat the prince. That was implied in his last words—“I’ll join you.” But what perils would Cornar face after slaying the prince? Igan worried for his friend as he and the others descended to the lower levels.

  They were partway down the stairs leading to the twenty-third floor when hurried footfalls echoed beneath them. Nordal signaled for a halt, and everyone stilled, their hands on their weapons. The footsteps grew louder.

  Sounds like a small group, Igan thought.

  A gasp echoed up into the stairwell. Igan heard someone whisper, but he couldn’t identify the voice. There was another reply, but it was faint. Nordal immediately whistled the party’s signal, and it was returned in kind.

  Ordreth, Igan thought.

  Nordal resumed his descent with the others in tow. Igan heard a brief reunion between the main party and Ordreth’s group, followed by a hasty report. Igan pushed his way through the crowd, straining to hear Ordreth. It sounded as if Cornar’s nephew was talking about living statues and elves.

  “… and that’s when we decided to turn back,” Ordreth said. “When we got to the hall leading to this wing, the battle was already raging.”

  A battle? Igan wondered. So, the Sapphire Guard is here.

  “But those statues, Nordal…” Ordreth shook his head. “There was something terrifying about them.”

  “Well you don’t need to fret,” Midar said. “Your uncle’s plan hasn’t failed.” Ordreth cocked his head in surprise.

  “Yeah,” Nordal chimed, “Kaescis and a bunch of his Praetorians attacked us not long after you left.”

  Cornar’s nephew looked shocked. “But how did he know where—?”

  “Don’t know,” Nordal interrupted. “Cor is fighting him now. We need to hurry to the Promised Maiden.”

  “But Uncle Cor—”

  “I’m sorry, Ordreth,” Nordal said, pushing past the younger warrior. “Cor ordered us not to follow him. None of us like it.”

  Ordreth looked defeated, overcome with dismay. Nordal, however, continued down the stairs while the rest of the party filed past Ordreth. Hem and Demsal joined the main group, but Sharon lingered with Cornar’s nephew—her hand gently resting on Ordreth’s arm. Sharon was shrouded in her cloak but was completely visible.

  The rocks are stopping her cloak from working, Igan thought.

  “Oh, Igan!” Ordreth turned, looking frantic. “I can’t abandon my uncle.” The outburst was heart-wrenching. Igan stared at Ordreth as the last of the party descended the stairs. Soon, only the three of them remained. “I know how you feel, Ordreth,” Igan said, “but there’s no way to know where Cor went. We could spend days searching this labyrinth for him…”

  “I can’t lose him, Igan!”

  With tears welling in his eyes, Igan looked at Ordreth. He too yearned to reunite with Cornar, but Igan saw no feasible way.

  Sharon tugged at her lover’s arm. “Ordreth…” she urged, “we’re getting behind.”

  “Trust in your uncle, Ordreth,” Igan said, stepping past the couple. “He’s escaped perilous circumstances before. Have faith that he will find a way back to the ship.”

  Igan turned and continued down the stairs. As he rejoined the party, reluctant footsteps echoed behind him.

  * * * * *

  There was nothing in the hall beyond the stairs.

  Cornar ran through each of Jahevial’s dispels, and the necromancer-scholar managed to keep pace with his dash. Jahevial was almost as proficient with his dispels as Iltar or Hagen.

  They hurried down the hall, toward an archway leading to another room several hundred phineals away. No other corridors or doors branched from this hall. Kaescis could have only gone one way.

  Our brief halt must have bought him enough time to get ahead of the dispels, Cornar thought.

  Faint sounds of battle reached Cornar’s ears, coming from the archway. What’s that? They soon approached the archway, and Jahevial’s dispel washed through the opening. Cornar stopped short of entering and examined the space beyond the archway.

  This looks familiar, Cornar thought. The space beyond the archway was roofed by a giant shallow dome, about the size of a city block. A gigantic polished crystal hung in the center of the space, with a walkway running from the archway to the crystal. Four other archways branched off from the crystal, connecting to a balcony that ran the dome’s entire circumference.

  “I know this place,” Jahevial said. “We’re above the main room, near the war camp.”

  Cornar nodded. His men had reported finding the entrances to these domes while exploring the enormous pillars in the main room. He glanced beyond the walkways. It was a long drop to the bottom.

  Don’t look down, Cornar told himself, averting his gaze and fighting off a spell of dizziness. He briefly glimpsed one of the enormous pillars while refocusing his vision.

  Jahevial uttered another dispel, and it washed across only a quarter of the domed space. “He could be anywhere,” the scholar cursed. “Let’s go!”

  Together, they hurried onto the walkway leading to the crystal. Cornar kept his focus on the giant crystal while Jahevial mustered another dispel.

  Amid their dash, Cornar heard that booming voice. Stop! it commanded.

  As Cornar obeyed, a streak of blackness zipped between him and Jahevial. It was Kaescis’s blade, flying like a javelin. If Cornar hadn’t stopped, the sword would have impaled him.

  An enraged yell echoed throughout the dome. Jahevial finished his incantation, turning toward the yell. He hurled his magic, and it washed across another walkway leading to the crystal.

  Kaescis appeared, running toward the crystal, his hand outstretched, with blackness gathering around his gauntlet. The wounds on Kaescis’s face were gone—a result of his arpran spell.

  Cornar resumed his dash, passing Jahevial. Both he and Kaescis reached the balcony wrapping around the crystalline structure.

  Kaescis disappeared for a moment, but Cornar could hear the prince’s heavy footfalls growing louder. As Cornar rounded the crystal Kaescis reappeared, his blade forming as he ran.

  The prince lunged, raising his Darkness blade. Kaescis swung, but Cornar leaned backward, sliding beneath the prince. Cornar managed to land several blows against Kaescis’s sabaton as the prince sailed through the air. The blows overloaded another gemstone near the prince’s knee, cracking it. Recovering from the slide, Cornar flipped onto his stomach and pushed himself upright, watching as Kaescis rebounded.

  They clashed once again, struggling against each other. Neither landed blows. All the while, Jahevial hurled his acidic orbs at the prince. Several orbs flew toward the back of the prince’s head. Kaescis, however, heard the whizzing acid and twisted with unnatural speed to counter them with his monstrous weapon. The blade’s misting blackness consumed the orbs. However, nearly a dozen of the other acidic projectiles struck the prince’s armor.

  Cornar glimpsed a gemstone shattering along the prince’s back, and more of the damaging veil around the armor vanished. The veil persisted only around parts of the prince’s breastplate and left arm.

  We almost have him, Cornar thought. He took advantage of the opening, striking several blows against Kaescis’s armored ribs.

  The prince whirled, lowering his Darkness blade, but Cornar intercepted it with his serrated dagger.

  * * * * *

  Kaescis recoiled, furious at the stalemate between him and the accursed Dol’shir.

  Why can’t I hit him?! The thought evoked further fury. The voices were a thunderous rumble in Kaescis’s mind, indistinguishable. Nothing but insatiable hate raged within him, fueling him.

  The zipping sounds of magic reached Kaescis’s ears, and he twirled, kicking his adversary, t
hen turned in time to deflect more acidic orbs from reaching his face.

  “You…” he growled at Jahevial. Kaescis could hear Dol’shir rebounding, but that didn’t matter. Enraged, Kaescis ran toward his enemy’s would-be protector. Jahevial retreated, mustering more magic. Lime-green light gathered around his arcane barsion. Yelling, Kaescis swung his blade, aimed to cut the fool in half. Jahevial, however, threw himself backward.

  Kaescis’s weapon met Jahevial’s barsion, shattering it. The tip of his Ko’delish blade narrowly sliced across the scholar’s arms and chest, dissolving cloth and flesh. The blow, however, was not enough to kill the traitor.

  Jahevial screamed as he fell to the walkway. Misting particles left in the wake of Kaescis’s blow eroded the sinews of Jahevial’s arm, revealing bone. Kaescis swept his weapon, but he wouldn’t have time to strike again. He spun just as Mister Dol’shir lunged at him, weapons extended.

  They collided, and Kaescis fell backward. Dol’shir’s short-sword flew past his face. The dagger, however, struck repeatedly against Kaescis’s breastplate.

  Another gemstone cracked, falling out of its mounting. No! Kaescis growled.

  As they fell onto the walkway, Mister Dol’shir reared up, slamming his weapons toward Kaescis’s face. With lightning speed, Kaescis threw his left gauntleted hand to shield himself. Both his foe’s weapons struck the gauntlet.

  Gemstones shattered.

  Plating cracked.

  And then anguish. Coldness surged through his forearm. The tip of his foe’s short-sword protruded near the crook of his elbow. The pain was excruciating, and Kaescis screamed a hate-filled yell. Then he felt his forearm no longer. And that was worse than all the pain in the world.

  * * * * *

  Cornar’s short-sword jerked free of the prince’s gauntlet. His serrated dagger, however, still pierced the now dismembered limb.

  The prince wailed, gazing horrifically at what Cornar had done.

  Now’s my chance, Cornar thought, swinging his serrated dagger aside. He brought his short-sword close to defend himself while Kaescis’s severed gauntlet flew over the walkway’s rail.