“How do you know?” Rose snapped, her tone filled with venom.
“Because we’ll all die if we stay here,” he said softly. “And she claims to love Angst. I explained to her how upset killing us would make him, especially after what she did to Victoria.”
“Oh, come on,” Hector said, putting the swords away.
“You love Angst?” Rose rolled her eyes.
“He’s always kept me safe,” she said, her eyes slightly dilated. “I know he’ll feel the same once he understands.”
“You try to kill three of Angst’s closest friends, and you think he’s going to love you?” Hector couldn’t even fathom the level of crazy she’d reached.
“We have a special bond. He’s my champion.” Alloria suddenly glared at them in a way Hector was familiar with. It was the ferocious gaze one might see from a mountain lion protecting her young, right before she ate you.
“Sure, whatever,” Hector said dismissively, shaking his head. “Whether it’s all true or just a bucket of crazy, why would that keep her from killing us?”
“And why were you crying?” Rose said softly.
“It will take a while to explain,” Dallow said. “But it’s the saddest story I’ve ever read.”
“I knew reading too much could make you cry,” Hector said. “I’m getting the food.”
The daggers coming out of Rose’s eyes may’ve actually killed the young princess had they made contact. Alloria avoided that gaze and led Dallow from the desk to sit on the floor. Rose followed closely, hate practically seething from her. Hector dragged over the bag and placed it in the center before plopping down. They took turns grabbing handfuls of nuts and berries out of the sack. Rose handed Dallow a flask of water, from which he drank deeply, before passing it to Alloria.
“Do you remember the story Jarle told us about the elements?” Dallow asked.
“I remember the storyteller,” Rose said with a thin smile.
“Of course you do,” Hector said dryly.
“The story is more or less true,” Dallow continued. “Everything that Jarle, and Aerella have told us is confirmed in this library. The five elements go to war every two thousand years. Typically, they embody hosts that manipulate the races around Ehrde to fight for them. When the war is done, and the humans and other races are thinned out, there’s a final, deciding battle.
“History states that Water usually wins, but sometimes it’s Fire, and once in a while, Magic. When Water wins, Ehrde is mostly covered in ocean, like it is now. When Fire wins, it’s horrific. When it’s Magic, it’s madness. Angst broke the cycle by killing Ivan the way he did. Ivan was Magic’s host.”
“Because Angst is so powerful,” Alloria said wistfully.
“Because he doesn’t know what he’s doing,” Rose said, rolling her eyes.
“With the help of the Mendahir, the wielders built these mage cities,” Dallow said. “They were meant to offer protection from these wars, but in each situation, Magic manipulated all of them into cursing themselves. Azaktrha was buried in the ocean, Gressmore Towers was lost to time...”
“And Enurthen?” Hector asked.
“Someone cast a spell to destroy all who enter. The spell worked.” Dallow lowered his head, shaking it. “Slowly, almost methodically, everyone living in Enurthen was destroyed, having already ‘entered’ the mage city. What they experienced didn’t translate well, but they just seemed to fade out over a long period of time. As far as I can tell, we haven’t experienced the effects, but it will eventually happen to us too. The people of Enurthen didn’t learn of this until it was too late.”
“That’s terrible,” Rose said.
“It’s worse,” Dallow said. “This city, Enurthen, has been here for over four thousand years, maybe even six, and Magic was still able to trick them into self-destruction.”
Hector wasn’t hungry anymore, and returned his handful of lunch to the bag. “Is that all?”
“I didn’t have time to go through every book,” Dallow said, his shoulders slumping. “It would take a lifetime. An amazing, glorious lifetime. But I have learned some things. It’s strictly forbidden to mess with time.”
“I’ll try not to,” Hector said. “What else?”
“The Mendahir created the foci,” Dallow said. “And no one should try bonding with more than one.”
“Say that again?” Rose asked, her voice filled with concern.
“It shouldn’t even be possible for a wielder to bond with two foci,” Dallow said, his fingers pressed together and tapping his chin. “But doing so will drive the Al’eyrn mad. It’s just too much power for one person. Eventually, it will drive Angst crazy, and then kill him.”
“I can’t imagine Angst being crazier than he is,” Rose said with a thin smile, though her eyes were filled with worry.
Dallow coughed several times and took another draw of water. In spite of claiming to be hungry earlier, he hadn’t eaten a thing.
“It could be one little thing, or maybe one big thing, that triggers it,” Dallow explained. “But it will happen.”
“We have to help him,” Alloria said firmly, still shoving food into her mouth.
“And why are we letting you live?” Rose asked the young woman. “Because you suddenly want to help Angst?”
“No,” Dallow said. “I think the only way to save Victoria is with both halves of Jormbrinder. Since nobody else is bonded to the dagger, she’s the only one who can remove it. This is just a theory, of course.”
“But she stabbed you with the dagger too,” Hector said. “How is it different?”
“She didn’t leave it in my chest,” Dallow explained. “Without Jormbrinder, and Alloria, the princess is dead.”
“By the Dark Vivek,” Hector swore.
“That’s the last piece,” Dallow said, pushing himself up to stand. “There is no Dark Vivek.”
“Of course not,” Rose almost spat. “It’s a turn of phrase. There is no Vivek, or Dark Vivek. It’s just something people say.”
“Vivek may actually be someone, or something,” Dallow said hesitantly, as if unsure he should correct Rose. “It’s a greater force that we don’t understand.”
“Fine,” Hector said, feeling uncomfortable in his own skin. “But why did you say there is no Dark Vivek. What difference does that make?”
“There is someone who calls himself Dark Vivek. He’s the one who tortured me. He’s the ageless bald man who tried bonding Chryslaenor to Rose,” Alloria said, dismissively. She made a sucking face, pulled a half-eaten berry from her mouth, and threw it behind her. She looked up to notice everyone staring at her and tossed her head to one side. “He just calls himself the Vivek to confuse people, but usually he says he’s the Dark Vivek to scare everyone. He’s actually the element Magic.”
Eastern border of Unsel
“The Fulk’han remains have been burned,” Commander Mirim reported, standing at attention with her helm tucked smartly beneath an arm. “I don’t believe they’ll live through that.”
“You don’t believe...” Captain Kyle asked, shaking his head.
“The appendages are no longer moving,” she said, her dark forehead scrunching in concern. “But the fire turned orange, and the smoke was black. I’ve never seen anything like that.”
“Understood,” he said with a nod.
“No sign of the Fulk’han army?” Andec asked, grinding his teeth. There were too many unknowns that needed to be understood, and right now.
“We searched a twenty-mile radius,” Kyle said. “Unless they ported directly to the castle, it’s unlikely they’re nearby. I sent a regiment of soldiers back to the capital just in case.”
“Good plan, but I don’t think they are headed to Unsel,” Andec said.
“What makes you say that?” Kyle asked.
The wielders all turned to stare at Jace. The young man coughed uncomfortably and shuffled his feet.
“While the wielders were interrogating the remaining gray man, we discov
ered the Fulk’han plan to hunt down and capture Angst,” Mirim stated. “They seem to be aware that he’s not in Unsel.”
“I still have a hard time believing they need all those soldiers to chase down one man,” Kyle said.
“According to what I’ve heard,” Andec said, “they killed Angst and locked him in a dungeon, and he escaped. I’d send more than a few soldiers after him.”
“The gray man said something about a prize,” Mirmim continued. “He called it ‘Prendere’ and said it was a weapon.”
“Isn’t Angst a weapon?” Kyle scratched his chin.
“Military,” Nikkola scoffed. “Angst isn’t a weapon. He’s a person. A friend.”
Captain Kyle rolled his eyes, looking to Mirim for relief.
“It was my impression that Prendere is something else. Something that could destroy Angst, or the rest of us,” Mirim said. “They believe he knows where this weapon resides.”
“That’s good,” Kyle said with a nod.
Nikkola shook her head with a disbelieving sigh, and Andec balled up his fists.
“It’s good that they don’t know where the weapon is,” Kyle said defensively. “The last thing we want is for them to destroy Angst. My weapon, your friend, is needed by Unsel.”
Tensions calmed, and Andec plopped down to sit. It wasn’t completely on purpose; he felt that tired. The ground was freezing, and he longed for the blanket Commander Mirim had offered.
“Please, sit,” Kyle said, his tone impatient.
“What?” he snapped huffily. “I’m old.”
“How would they know where to find Angst?” Kyle asked, shaking his head.
“Fulk’han have been spotted along the border towns,” Mirim said. “They may have seen him leaving.”
“That crew would be hard to miss,” Nikkola said. “The giant sword, a Nordruaut woman... you couldn’t exactly hide them in wagons.”
“Nobody would be that foolish,” Kyle said thoughtfully.
Andec stood and paced, nudging people out of his way.
“What’s this?” Kyle asked in a mocking tone. “I thought you were old.”
“I was uncomfortable,” Andec grumbled. “Something doesn’t make sense.”
“I’m pretty sure none of this makes sense,” the captain said.
“Most of Unsel’s forces were drawn to this battle that didn’t happen,” Commander Mirim said, her eyes on the old man. She paused and stared at him before continuing. “It would’ve made sense to lure us from the castle if they were going to port past us and attack, but they didn’t.”
“If there actually had been a fight, it would’ve been a massacre without the zyn’ight,” Nikkola said, and then quickly followed that with, “No offense.”
Kyle drew in a breath to retort.
“She’s right, sir,” Mirim said before he could speak. “The Fulk’han can survive almost anything, except maybe fire. Maybe.”
“Fine,” Kyle said. “If what you say is true, they’re throwing a lot at an individual target. That entire army hunting down just one person. Drawing out our army...”
“And our zyn’ight, sir,” Mirim said.
“Victoria,” Andec said abruptly. He immediately began to summon his goat.
“What about the princess?” Mirim asked sharply, turning her entire body to face him.
“Wielders were taking turns guarding her chambers,” Jace said, mounting his swifen. “Wilfred commanded us to come here.”
“It will take my regiment the better part of a week to get there,” Kyle said, his cheeks ruddy. “How long will it take you?”
“A day, maybe two,” Andec said, reeling. He was very pale and seemed hesitant to mount.
Nikkola flashed Mirim a worried look, shaking her head.
“I’d like to accompany them, Captain,” she said. “If these mounts can handle two people.”
“They can,” Jace said hopefully, patting a spot behind him.
Kyle nodded and walked to Andec. Without asking, she mounted the back of his goat and offered him a hand.
“I’m fine,” he muttered, but took it and sat behind her.
“I’ll steer if you keep it alive,” she said. “We’ll do this together.”
“Just hurry,” he said.
49
Nordruaut
Hope is an amazing force. Hard to capture, harder to keep, but far more powerful than hate or anger. Angst had always known this, and right now he felt it. The fact that Jintorich was alive fueled Angst’s confidence. This kicked his distress hard enough to clear the foreboding darkness that had been overwhelming his thoughts. Their journey was far from over. By his calculations, they still had days to save Victoria. More than enough time to defeat this nimrod and find his friends. And, he didn’t have to do this alone. Another Al’eyrn had his back. Jintorich would keep his new friends safe. Yeah, he had hope.
Unfortunately, he didn’t have long legs. Snow drifts reached his thigh, making his journey across the battlefield less than heroic. Every step was a knee-high march, each more exhausting than the last. The gaps in the light and well-designed zyn’ight armor worked like tiny shovels, sucking in snow with every step. His proud charge to meet the eastern Nordruaut champion was initially accompanied by clapping, cheers, and the stomping of feet. Angst could only imagine that this trailed off to impatient sighs, eye rolling, and maybe even some snoring.
He mostly didn’t care about the long haul, appreciating the hope more than begrudging the trek. And what should he do with that hope? That elusive gift had provided him with enough lift in his stride to traverse this thick ocean of snow, and distracted him enough to mostly ignore the cold—but what next? Blurring forward and effecting a humiliating defeat on Niihlu seemed like such a waste of this positive energy. He could let loose that fury buried deep inside, just as Aerella feared, but it seemed to counter what he felt. Angst had battled his way through this entire ordeal, and it just kept going. Maybe, just maybe, he’d been doing it wrong this entire time. And after twenty minutes of walking and thinking, he arrived with a fresh perspective.
Niihlu towered over him, though “tower” was an understatement. Angst never really gave much thought to being shorter than most men. What was the point? He couldn’t do anything about it. His friends didn’t care, and bullies bled no matter how tall they were. But this was different. Niihlu was just...really, really tall. This Nordruaut easily stood a head taller than Maarja, who could pick Angst up and throw him.
Where Chryslaenor “compensated” for Angst’s height, the enormous war axe Niihlu held looked about the right size in the big man’s grip. Angst was suddenly grateful for his sword’s size, despite the uncomfortable teasing he had suffered.
“’Sup,” Angst said between gasps, clouds of breath pouring from his mouth. “I see you finally got one of your own. Good for you.”
“Huh?” Niihlu asked.
“Nice axe.” Angst nodded at the thing.
It looked vicious. The long-handled battle axe rested in a mound of blue ice that looked like a tiny mountain. The curved blade was the size of Angst from head to knee, and it glowed an incandescent white. Ice formed around the handle, cracking off in brittle sheets to shatter on the blue mountain. Slush dripped from Niihlu’s bare arm, and then his bare torso. His opponent grimaced through a shiver, was it from cold, or pain?
“I will destroy you with—” Niihlu began.
“One sec.” Angst held up a hand, leaning over to catch his breath. “That was a long walk.”
“You are weak!” he scoffed.
“No, I’m short,” Angst replied. “Your thirty-second skip across the field was my six-day hike.”
“I don’t skip,” Niihlu said.
“You should try it,” Angst said.
“It’s time to battle!” Niihlu cried, tearing the giant war axe from its icy stand and lifting it high.
“Not yet,” Angst said, waving his hand dismissively. He was still breathing heavily, but his heart had slowed to a
jog as cool air vented through his armor.
“What?” Niihlu asked in surprise. “Why do you delay? What is this?”
“Exactly,” Angst said. “What on Ehrde are we doing?”
“We are champions, battling to decide who will lead Nordruaut, the east or the west,” Niihlu explained. “And I will beat you—”
“No, no, I get why we’re here,” he said, pointing between the two of them. He then swung his arm in a wide arc, pointing all around. “Why are we all here? Niihlu, look at those Nordruaut. What do you see?”
“I see the western tribes,” he said with sneer-laden glance over Angst’s shoulder.
“And behind you?” Angst asked.
“I know who is behind me,” Niihlu said, every word clipped with impatience.
“Don’t be afraid. I’m not even holding my sword yet. Just look!” Angst said sharply.
Niihlu’s gaze briefly flicked over his shoulder. He shook his head. “What is your point, human?”
“From here, they all look the same. That’s because the Nordruaut are all one people,” Angst snapped.
“You’re trying to distract me,” he said, wiping icicles from his confused face.
“I’m trying to save you,” Angst replied.
“There is a war coming,” Niihlu said, his voice uncertain.
“There doesn’t have to be a war if nobody fights,” Angst pleaded.
“You’re afraid to fight me,” Niihlu said, rattling his axe.
“Do I look afraid?” Angst asked, slowly removing Chryslaenor from his back and setting it on its tip. “Shouldn’t you ask yourself why? There can only be two reasons. Either I’m crazy, which I’m told is possible, or I hold so much power now that you wouldn’t stand a chance.”
Niihlu studied him for long moments, his constant leaking of ice slowing as he leaned forward and looked into Angst’s eyes. Something about the enormous head within inches of his body made Angst steel himself. Now would be a bad time to show fear, and he repeated that in his mind over and over.
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