The King's Summons

by Adam Glendon Sidwell

  “Dreck head strong,” said Dreck.

  The orc captain laughed. “Crook-Eye head weak. Rimefrost Orc head twice as strong.” He slammed his forehead into an ice flow and knocked a great chuck of icicle loose. “Ha! See.”

  Dreck said nothing to this. He simply removed his robe and lifted up his arms. Two orcs lifted the heavy Iron Collar over his head and shoulder and carried it to their sledge. They dumped it there with the rest of the metal hooks and nets.

  Dreck, a traitor. And if what they were saying was true, that Iron Collar had the power to turn the jotnar into something else.

  Of course Dreck was one of them. He was an orc to the core. Blaze shouldn’t have expected anything less. She could feel her rage boiling up inside her. And with that rage came power.

  I have to stop them.

  But there were so many of them. If she could destroy their rune-marked weapons—it might slow their attack on the jotnar long enough for Blaze to find Princess Sapphire. Princess Sapphire would know what to do.

  As the column of orc soldiers marched on, Dreck slipped away at a bend in the trail. He disappeared into the woods. Dreck the orc had chosen his path of treachery. Blaze could choose hers.

  “I have the spark.” Blaze said, flicking a flame from her finger. She suddenly felt so alive, so ready. “I can’t let them ambush the jotnar.”

  She pushed back her hood. “Goddess save me.”

  Blaze ignited both her fists. Balls of flame enveloped them. She darted around the outcropping and dashed across the ice field toward the orcs.

  She was halfway there before they spotted her. “Human!” cried one of the orcs. But it was too late, her inner heat was already surging to maximum capacity.

  “Fire Wave!” A blast of superheated air jetted from her hands, erupting in a wave of flame that spilled over the orcs hauling the sledge. Guy ropes snapped, support rails disintegrated, and snow turned to slush beneath their feet.

  Shouts of panic rose up as the sledge slipped back.

  But the orcs were strong. Twice the size of a man, with four times as much muscle, the full-grown warriors made Dreck look like a runt. They strained against the heavy sledge, keeping it from sliding back down the mountain with sheer muscle power.

  “Stop her!” screamed the orc captain.

  “Fireball!” She hurled a tight ball of flame directly at the Rimefrost Orc captain.

  “Fireball! Fireball!” Blaze sent two more blasts in rapid succession. The orc captain hastily raised a shield. All three blasts deflected back toward Blaze’s feet where they smashed into the snow and broke it, sizzling to nothing beneath the surface.

  Blaze hesitated. The fire should have wrapped around the shield, heating it until it became too hot for the orc to hold. But the fireballs had simply bounced away.

  Faint lines showed on the shield, arcane markings no living sorcerer could mimic—the work of the Dark Consul’s mages.

  Stupid runes, Blaze thought.

  She had waited so long for a chance to face the enemy—to make them pay. To drive them back. This was the heat of battle. She couldn’t stop now.

  She lunged forward. But the ground beneath her did not hold. The snow broke and Blaze fell through.

  My fireballs. They softened the snow, she thought as she tumbled down. A crevasse opened beneath her, like a great black mouth.

  She scrambled for a handhold as she slid and caught on something hard and wooden. It was Dreck’s staff.

  “Climb!” Dreck cried as he pulled up the other side the staff.

  Blaze gripped tight with both hands. She screamed, “You traitor!”

  Dreck hauled her up onto solid ice. “You betrayed us!” she screamed, beating his chest with both fists.

  He ignored her. “Blaze, run. Now.” He pulled her behind a rocky outcropping as a hail of arrows rained down on either side. Blaze tried to catch her breath.

  “Orcs have grappling hooks,” said Dreck, glancing back toward the crevasse. “They cross soon. They follow.”

  Blaze just glowered at him. How could he?

  “Here we part. You find Princess Sapphire,” said the teenage orc. “I warn jotnar.”

  Princess Sapphire? He knew she was here? Blaze had been so careful not to mention her. She hadn’t wanted Dreck to know, but he already did.

  There was so much to be said—accusations, insults. And questions to ask. She had just seen Dreck deliver the key to the enemy’s plans. And then he had returned to save her. It made no sense. She had to find out what was going on.

  And she couldn’t trust that Dreck would actually do as he said and warn the jotnar. But there was simply no time. So, she just nodded.

  “Leave pack—no carry. Move quick. Follow ridge back to glacier,” he said. He took the pack from off her back. She wanted to stop him, but she just didn’t have the strength to resist. “Slide down. Cross river.” He walked his fingers, miming the path. “Follow foot of the mountain. You find Hetsa before Rimefrost Orcs capture jotnar, turn it dark.”

  All depended on her success—the entire Reach. Possibly all of Crystalia.

  Blaze nodded.

  “Remember, cannot do alone.”

  This coming from a traitor orc whom she had tried to trust. She wouldn’t make that mistake again.

  Heart still pounding in her chest from her near-fatal fall, Blaze scurried away with nothing but her cloak on her back, sprinting back along the path. It wasn’t long before darkness would fall and the brutal night chill would swallow her. A solitary thought rang in her mind. She focused on it.

  Keep moving.

  Chapter 7: Orc Trap

  Howling wind blew sheets of snow across the Frostbyte Reach. The blizzard blanketed evergreens and rocks with heavy, white drifts. Gray clouds churned overhead, making angry shapes as they shot across the sky. Blaze’s breath was ragged as she climbed the dunes of snow, tasting snowflakes as they blew into her mouth. Pulling her cloak around her, she shivered against the bitter cold.

  “Curse you, King Jasper,” Blaze muttered. It wasn’t the first time she had uttered those words on this trip. And curse the orcs. It was the treachery of the Rimefrost Tribe and the Crook-Eye Orcs of the plains that gave the Dark Consul such power in the region.

  And most of all, curse you, Dreck.

  Soon those orcs would be unstoppable, all because of him.

  Blaze trudged on. She couldn’t stop now. She couldn’t let them win.

  The mountain path ran along the base of a steep slope that rose to her left. A gentle slope ran off to her right. Several yards ahead, an outcrop jutted out over the path, sheltering a small area from the driving snow. It was the first time Blaze had seen any actual dirt ground in what felt like days. It offered some slight protection from the growing blizzard, so she dragged herself into the space beneath the rock and blew into her hands, trying to stave off the chill.

  She’d just rest for a moment. That was all she could afford. She considered lighting a fire to warm her, but it would only draw the orcs. She’d have to rely on her cloak and the rock. Besides, using fire only burned more energy. It would leave her tired, and she couldn’t afford that luxury. Especially since she didn’t have any food in a pack to replenish her inner fire. Making fire burned energy. Food filled her back up.

  It took all her focus not to cast one of those wonderful warmth spells.

  Without a rucksack, Blaze had no rations or blanket for the shelter. Dreck had put her in a dangerous position. How that orc made her angry! I guess I have this, she thought, fingering the frilly, pink locket around her neck. A lot of good that would do.

  “Hetsa must be close,” Blaze said between chattering teeth. “Didn’t I just pass this bend a few hours back?” She wasn’t sure if she’d followed Dreck’s instructions correctly. And the blizzard was getting worse, the blowing snow cutting off her visibility to only a few feet. She had to be careful to stick to what was left of a path. It was now just a faint imp
ression in the snow.

  Blaze reluctantly stepped out from under the outcrop and forged on.

  She had to warn the princess about the orcs and their plan to turn the jotnar dark, whatever that meant.

  The wind howled in Blaze’s ears, sending another chill down her spine. She focused on stepping through the snow banks, one frozen foot at a time.

  Ahead, the path dipped down out of sight behind a ridge. Blaze focused on reaching that one goal.

  Where is this dumb city, anyway? Shouldn’t I have reached it by now?

  When she reached the ridgetop, she gasped.

  She stood at the top of a foothill overlooking a shallow valley. There, at the bottom, was a collection of burning lights—the warm, welcoming glow of lanterns and campfires. Though she couldn’t see many details through the swirling snow and sleet, relief glowed within her.

  “Hetsa,” she said aloud.

  The sight invigorated her. Picking up her pace, she half ran, half slid down the downward-sloping path. Getting a bed and a hot meal was exactly what she needed.

  “Who goes there?” A voice called through the storm.

  Blaze froze. She scanned the forest. The swirling blizzard and dark shadows of the evergreens blocked her view of everything but the path and the faint, glowing lights of the settlement below.

  Shivering at the cold, Blaze ventured a careful response to the mysterious voice. “Hello?” she whispered.

  “Who approaches our fair village?” the voice said. It was deep and guttural. “Dwarf? Freyjan?”

  “Neither, actually,” Blaze shouted into the storm. So this was the town guard. “I am—”

  “Then orc?” the voice said.

  Even above the howling storm, Blaze imagined hearing a bow drawn back. “No!” she cried. She hated how nervous she sounded. “I am a human, traveling from Crystalia Castle. I’m not from around here, but I am looking for Hetsa. Is that it down there?” She pointed down the pathway. The flaming lights, so welcoming to Blaze’s eyes, twinkled merrily.

  “Human!” the voice said. “Come, boys! Give her a welcome!”

  Blaze sighed with relief as several dark figures emerged from the surrounding wood and approached her. “Oh, thank the Goddess,” she said. “Here I was, thinking that I might freeze to death out here, and now you lot show up.” Wrapping her cloak around her, Blaze shivered again. “I mean, look at my hands! They’re nearly blue, you know. Should have brought gloves, but I didn’t really think about it. I mean, it’s springtime everywhere else in Crystalia.”

  “Just stay right there,” the voice said. “We’ll come to you.” The figures emerged from the woods and circled Blaze.

  The Ember Mage brushed at her cloak. The least she could do was look presentable—or intimidating—when she arrived in town. “I’m just glad Hetsa has a welcoming committee. Or are you the town guard?”

  “You could say that,” said the guard’s voice from much closer.

  Blaze tilted her head. Though she’d never actually met a dwarf from the Frostbyte Reach, she had met several dwarves down in warmer climates. None of them had had a voice so deep and so . . . well, guttural. And come to think of it, these dwarves are all . . . taller than me.

  The blowing snow swirled away for a moment, and Blaze came face-to-face with six towering orcs.

  Oh. Not village guards. Orcs.

  Even in this raging blizzard, the orcs wore little to no clothing except for the furs draped around their shoulders and loins. Their exposed muscles bulged as they flexed and gripped their clubs, hammers, and axes. Intricate markings and tattoos covered their bodies, the white shapes reminding Blaze of storm clouds and icicles. The hulking creatures jeered at Blaze, exposing their crooked teeth. “Look. Little human can’t stand the cold!” one said.

  Blaze felt her lower eyelid twitch and her gut tighten. She had been running on so little sleep and was at the end of her wits. But there was more than just exhaustion.

  There was anger.

  Most of the orcs roared with laughter, but the orc right in front of Blaze raised his hand, cutting the others off. “Quiet!” he said. “Cernonos didn’t send us to play with food. Take her to Hetsa and lock her with the other prisoners.”

  Blaze’s arms trembled. “That was a nasty trick,” she said, her voice soft and dangerous. The fire within blazed, driving the cold from her limbs. Her vision took on a crimson tint.

  “Easy trick,” the lead orc said, folding his arms and snorting. “Dumb human.”

  “Well the easy part is over.” Blaze took a deep, shuddering breath. The fire within leapt up, dancing with anticipation. She would have been surprised how quickly it came, hungry and tired as she was, but she knew this fire was fueled by anger.

  The lead orc snapped his fingers. “Grab her. Let’s go.”

  “And you fools gave me time to charge up,” she said.

  The orc closest to Blaze reached down and grabbed her shoulder.

  Blaze embraced the fire within.

  She exploded with light.

  The orc who had grabbed Blaze’s shoulder fell back, clutching his charred hand and shrieking with pain. Blaze straightened her back, her body engulfed in a warm, welcoming fire that melted the snow beneath her feet. Sparks and ash joined the thousands of snowflakes swirling around the clearing. Crouching in the heat of her own flame, Blaze conjured two bright red fireballs in her hands. The orcs surrounding her took steps back, raising their muscle-bound arms and shielding their eyes from the blazing heat. The snow-covered pine trees glowed underneath the orange light.

  “Just one small human!” the lead orc yelled to his men. “Do not fear her tricks!”

  The injured orc roared, holding up his still-smoking hand. “She burned me!”

  The lead orc snarled, revenge burning in his eyes. “Get her!”

  The rest of the orcs roared and charged toward Blaze.

  “Double Fireball!”

  The two orcs on either side of Blaze took the fireballs, one in the face, the other in the chest. The orc who’d been hit in the face dropped his club and grabbed at his eyes. “I can’t see!” The other victim clutched his chest, moaning.

  The lead orc swung his ax at Blaze. She ducked under the blow and rolled through the snow away from him. Hissing steam rose into the air as the snow melted beneath Blaze’s flame-engulfed body. Leaping to her feet, Blaze dodged backward to avoid getting hit by yet another orc’s sword. As the orc raised its sword to strike Blaze down, she crouched in the snow, ready to spring away. The sword whooshed over Blaze’s head, and she saw her opportunity. Right at the peak of the sword’s arc, Blaze blasted a fireball into its tip. The weapon dislodged from the orc’s grasp and spun twice through the air. The flat side smacked into another orc’s face; its eyes rolled back into its head, and it fell over, limp.

  “One!” Blaze shouted.

  Roaring, the disarmed orc grabbed at Blaze, but she dove forward underneath its grasp and slid between its legs. The lead orc waited behind his ally. Seeing Blaze beneath him, he raised his ax above his head as if to strike her down. Thinking quickly, Blaze waved her fingers, heating up the ax handle in the orc’s hands. Yelping with surprise, the lead orc let go of the ax, and it dropped from his fingers and struck his vulnerable foot. The orc let out a roar of pain and he hobbled forward, dousing his hands in the snow.

  Blaze grinned. “Two!”

  “Get her!” the blinded orc yelled, still rubbing at his eyes. “What is happening?”

  The orc with the scorch mark on his chest slammed his fist into his palm, revealing he wore brass knuckles. With a smirk, he leapt into the air above Blaze, his fist glinting in her own light. Blaze rolled to her right, again shooting steam into the air, as the orc hit the ground right where she’d been standing. Lighting her fists on fire, Blaze sprinted through the blizzard and struck the orc on the shoulder. His flesh sizzled, and the orc again howled.

  Thud. A huge spear struck the ground ne
xt to Blaze, inches away from her. She scrambled back and saw the orc with the charred hand. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his expression was full of concentration. He wielded his spear in an uncertain, clumsy style, proof that Blaze had scorched his dominant hand. Stepping back, he prepared to stab Blaze through.

  “Thunder Strike!”

  Blaze shot flame through her body into her hands. The sudden heat blast propelled her off the ground, through the air, and over the orc’s thrusting spear. Flipping around in the middle of her jump, Blaze ensured her feet connected with the orc’s jaw. Dazed, the orc fell like a tree, with Blaze landing on top of his face.

  “Three!”

  “You’re done!” the orc with the brass knuckles yelled.

  Blaze ducked, and the orc’s fist swung over her head. With no time to turn and defend herself, Blaze sprinted off the spear orc’s head and toward the edge of the clearing, where the pine trees waited amid the howling wind. Skidding through the snow banks, Blaze spun around, but the orc was right behind her.

  Oh boy.

  Her legs windmilling, Blaze scrambled back through the snow, desperately trying to get away from the charging orc. Her foot caught on a root, and Blaze pressed against the trunk of a pine tree.

  The orc again leapt into the air, his fist cocked and ready to strike.

  Grinning, Blaze curtseyed.

  Wham! The orc’s fist collided with the tree trunk behind Blaze. Undeterred, the orc pulled his fist back for another swing.

  Whump! Snow fell in a massive pile from the pine tree, blanketing both Blaze and the orc in a world of heavy, wet whiteness. Blaze immediately melted the snow around her, her fire burning white hot. The orc himself was not so lucky; his limbs churned uselessly in a pile of soft snow. He wiggled wildly, snarling at Blaze, but she only winked and turned to run.

  But heavy hands seized Blaze and lifted her aloft. “I got her!” another orc yelled, shaking her back and forth. He ran further into the middle of the clearing. “Forget Cernonos. I’m going to end her!”

  Blaze tried to summon another flame to force the orc to let her go. With some dismay, she realized the fire within had dimmed considerably. A shiver ran through her. Blast, Blaze thought, her mind wild. I wasn’t watching how much energy I’ve been using!