Soul Forge Saga Box Set

by Richard Stephens

  “On my mark, Olmar. Now,” Pollard said, crouching down and lifting.

  The strain on the giants’ faces was obvious. Cheeks blowing out heavy breaths, eyes squinted, necks thick and arms trembling.

  “They’ll never lift that. We’ll have to cut her out.” Karvus’ said to Silurian. Larina overheard him. By the angered glare Pollard and Olmar shot the Kraidic warrior, so had they.

  Emitting simultaneous shouts of exertion, Pollard and Olmar straightened their legs.

  Larina cupped her hands around her mouth. “How’s that, Mel? You need to move fast. They can’t hold it all day.” She glanced at the Kraidic warrior, his face alight with wonder.

  “It’s slipping,” Pollard warned through clenched teeth. “I can’t hold on much longer.”

  He’d no sooner said it before his hands pulled free and his section dropped with a ground shaking thud.

  Everyone sucked in a quick breath. Everyone except Olmar. “Come on…lassie. Good ol’ Olmar…ain’t to be…holding this…much longer.”

  His face went from deep red to purple. The veins on his temples bulged. Sweat dripped off his face. His entire body shook on the verge of collapse as a woman with dishevelled blonde hair pulled herself from the jagged hole.

  Olmar waited until she cleared the space before he released the weight and collapsed to his knees.

  Melody knelt beside him. “Oh my. Are you alright?”

  Olmar glanced at her, his shaggy head bigger than her torso. “Aye, missy. As long as you’re safe, I am.” He winked at her.

  Larina slid up to him, not happy with the way he eyed the newcomer. “Easy, Lunkhead. You’re delirious. She would eat you alive.”

  Olmar glanced from Melody to Larina and gave her the biggest smile she’d ever seen. If she wasn’t so relieved he was alright, she would’ve slapped him.

  Silurian jumped onto the flooring. His gaze flitted between Olmar and Sadyra, a smile lighting up his blood-splattered face.

  Olmar teared up instantly. He lifted himself free of the hole and stared, his grin and the tears streaming down his cheeks were accompanied by shaking shoulders. “Silurian Mintaka. Never would I ‘ad thought to be seein’ ye again. Me ‘eart is growin’ big with ‘appiness.” He held out his arms and crushed Silurian in an embrace, squeezing the breath out of the swordsman.

  “Lunkhead! You want to kill him as soon as we get him back? It’s my turn.” Sadyra yanked on Olmar’s wrists until he reluctantly released Silurian.

  Sadyra’s dimples went deep. Her large eyes misted over as she pulled Silurian into her embrace, openly crying on his shoulder.

  Silurian cried with her. He whispered into her ear, “It’s okay, Sadyra. I’m back now.”

  She nodded into his shoulder.

  He held out an arm and Melody joined their embrace.

  “Sadyra, meet my favourite sister, Melody.”

  Melody rolled her eyes. “I’m his only sister.”

  Larina smiled as Silurian took in everyone present. Pollard. Olmar. The Kraidic warrior briefly, before his bewitching ice-blue eyes widened in what she perceived as alarm.

  A throwing knife appeared in her hand before she realized who had commanded his attention.

  Pops picked his way through the rubble, lifting the hems of his robes to prevent them from snagging on the jagged debris.

  It wasn’t lost on Larina how Silurian’s and Melody’s eyes were riveted on the grey-haired wizard.

  Sadyra forgotten, Melody said, “Phazarus!” at the same time Silurian said, “Alhena!”

  Gutted

  Phazarus? Silurian frowned at Melody. That was the name of the previous Wizard of the North.

  One never knew where Alhena looked but Silurian was sure the senior messenger to the Chamber of the Wise stared straight at him while greeting Melody like a dear friend. How could that be? The two had never met.

  Melody wrapped her arms around Alhena and cried.

  Silurian’s mind raced, his rubbery legs barely supporting him. What had just happened? The old man who came in search of him last year knew Melody? It didn’t make sense.

  The battle they just fought with the demons flashed through his mind. He had assumed the magical blasts assisting Karvus, Pollard and himself were Melody’s doing. Thinking on it, the fireballs had come from the street.

  But Alhena wasn’t a…

  “Who is that?” he asked Sadyra.

  “Who, Pops?” Her eyes met his and understanding filled her gaze. She stepped back. “Ohhh, you don’t know, do you? Of course.”

  ‘Of course, what? That’s Alhena, isn’t it?” He stared into the man’s milky white eyes. Even though his wispy white hair was much shorter and his beard barely fell from his chin, there was no denying those damned eyes. And people always said his ice-blue eyes were eerie!

  He was certain Alhena watched him from over Melody’s shoulder—the old man’s thin lips curled in a sad smile.

  Silurian swallowed, his voice barely audible. “Alhena?”

  Alhena released Melody and nodded.

  Melody stared open-mouthed at the old man. Silurian had told her so much about the man who had delivered him from darkness.

  “We have much to discuss, my dear friend.” Alhena’s thin lips formed the words but Silurian had trouble concentrating.

  Melody had called him Phazarus. There had to be someone else who shared the old wizard’s name. He struggled to imagine Alhena blasting the demons that had swarmed after Karvus and himself. At the time, he hadn’t worried about the identity of their benefactor, he had been thankful for the intervention.

  His mind went over all the times he had faced danger in Alhena’s presence. The wolves in the trench. Seafarer’s appearance at the Undying Mountain Pools. The wicked storm that separated them in the Gritian Hills. The bar fight in Wharf’s Retreat. The transition at the portal. Losing the sailors at Debacle Lurch, and then again at the base of the sand cliffs—the same day they discovered Seafarer’s body.

  He realized his jaw hung low. Stunned at the implications of the old man being a wizard.

  Why hadn’t he intervened when the Voil Wizard Menthliot went rogue and almost brought the cliffs down on top of their heads? If what Melody said were true, Alhena was the old Wizard of the North. How had such a formidable wizard not seen through Thetis’ charade?

  He swallowed hard. For some reason, Rook’s tale of Avarick’s heroism slammed into him. His eyes narrowed and his mouth shut tight. If Alhena truly was a wizard, something he had denied from that very first day on his doorstep, why hadn’t he helped them during the battle at the mystic river? So many good people had died that day.

  His mind slogged through wet wool trying to come to terms with such a profound revelation. He fought to calm his rapid breathing. How many people were dead as a result of Alhena’s refusal to act?

  Tears welled up anew. It didn’t make sense. The Alhena he knew would never allow such abominations to happen. Unless…

  The Sacred Sword Voil slid from its sheath. Thetis had been a shape-changing creature Wendglow called a Morphisis—a beast capable of assuming another person’s identity.

  The creature calling itself Alhena stood beside the only person Silurian truly cared about—the beast had taken on the guise of the senior messenger to the Chamber.

  “Silurian, no!” Melody stepped in front of Alhena. “What are you doing?”

  “Step away, Mel. Let me deal with the demon.” He absently noted his sword no longer glowed. The runes had reverted to lifeless etchings.

  Sadyra grabbed his sword arm. “Master Mintaka, that’s Alhena. Your old friend. He’s on our side.”

  Silurian ripped his arm free of Sadyra’s grasp, glaring murder at her. He had half a mind to slay her as well. Were they all demons?

  Olmar stepped forward but stopped when Silurian pointed his sword at him. Silurian’s gaze flicked from person to person, his mind reeling. He couldn’t trust any of them.

  Pollard stepped in from beh
ind, wrapping him in a crushing bear hug, squeezing the breath out of his lungs. “I cannot allow you to go down this road.”

  “You too, Pollard?” Silurian snarled.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about. This is madness. We’re all friends here.”

  Silurian squirmed in Pollard’s grasp but it was no use. “Alhena is a Morphisis. He’ll kill us all!”

  Everyone stared at each other in confusion.

  “Take my staff.” Alhena handed it to Melody and confronted Silurian.

  “Release him, Pollard,” Alhena bade the giant. “He has been through a great deal, I am sure. Finding out I am not who he thought is understandably disconcerting.”

  Pollard’s grip didn’t relent.

  “You are correct to assume the worst. If I were in your boots, I would do the same. I assure you, I am the same man I have always been, but there is another side to me you never knew about.”

  Silurian struggled to break free, mad at his inability to get at the demon when it stood so close.

  Pollard’s grip increased.

  “Pollard, release him,” Alhena ordered again.

  “If I do, he’ll kill you.”

  Alhena moved back a step. He held his palms outward. “You need to trust me, Sire.”

  Sire? Only two people had ever called Silurian Sire. Alhena, many times when they first set out, and then Bregens on his deathbed.

  “Do you recall our journey those first few days as we made our way toward the Undying Mountain Pools? While camping at the approach to the pass, you and I had a disagreement. You almost threw your dagger at me, and yet, the next morning I awoke with your waterproof blanket over me while you slept in the rain.”

  Silurian recalled the incident clearly. He’d never forgiven himself for treating Alhena that way. “So what? Anyone could have spied on us that night.”

  Alhena nodded once. “Highly unlikely, but possible. How about after the wolves attacked? You looked at me, my face covered in blood and called me a sorry looking wizard. Do you recall that? I almost spit I was so shocked by the truth of your statement.”

  Silurian didn’t answer. Again, anyone may have overseen their fight. Why the wolves hadn’t attacked whoever that person, or thing was, he didn’t know.

  “Inside your hut, I carried with me a writ from the Chamber. Do you remember that?”

  Silurian simply glared. He wiggled his shoulders but Pollard’s grip hadn’t let off.

  “You threw the scroll at me and demanded I read it, to which I started to do…in my head. Who else would know that? In your own house? With the window I shattered when I had tried to see if you were home?”

  The anger slowly seeped out of Silurian. His tense muscles eased. He gazed deep into Alhena’s eyes, desperately wanting to believe him.

  Alhena smiled sadly. “You confided in me after we reunited in Madrigail Bay how hard Bregen’s death affected you. You told me of his passing and how grateful you were to hold his hand at the end. Who else in all the world would know that little piece of information.” He shrugged. “Except maybe Avarick.”

  The clang of Silurian’s sword as it slipped from his hand made Alhena jump.

  Alhena nodded at Pollard. “It’s ok. Let him go.”

  Pollard loosened his grip but tightened it again to keep Silurian from falling.

  Alhena relieved the giant of his burden, wrapping his frail arms around Silurian—the strength of his embrace belying his appearance.

  Silurian didn’t return the embrace at first. Slowly, his arms wrapped around Alhena’s slight figure and he held on tight, openly weeping. He buried his head into Alhena’s shoulder. How he’d missed the old man. His first true friend in over twenty years. The one who had believed in him when all others had forsaken him.

  “I hate to put a damper on this reunion,” Larina said, her eyes casting all around, “but we aren’t safe here.”

  Silurian nodded his agreement into Alhena’s shoulder. He composed himself, wiped his eyes and his nose on his cuff and stepped back to study Alhena, their hands clasped together in front of them.

  Sadyra, Olmar, Alhena and Pollard, all returned safely from the Under Realm along with another archer he didn’t recall. A chill shook him. He swallowed, afraid to ask the question he knew must be foremost in Melody’s mind. “What…what about Rook?”

  Alhena bit his lower lip and looked down.

  Melody gasped, her puffy eyes filling with tears as the relevance set in. She looked pleadingly at Alhena, as if begging him to change his answer.

  Alhena met her stare, tears dripping off his cheeks. “We lost him several days ago.”

  “Lost him?” Melody squeaked.

  Sadyra stepped up to Melody, placing a hand on her shoulder, her voice wavering. “He died saving us.”

  Melody’s mouth opened but nothing came out. Sadyra folded her into her arms as Melody’s grief set in.

  Silurian couldn’t breathe. It was if a giant boulder had been dropped on his chest. His hands shook violently. He didn’t know what to say, nor where to look.

  Alhena pulled him back into a hug. “I’m sorry. There was nothing we could do. We were ambushed crossing Treacher’s Gorge. If not for Rook, we would all be dead.”

  “But…but…you’re a wizard. You can…bring him back. You have to.” He met his sister’s longing stare of despair. The hurt in those beautiful green eyes crushed him. He’d spent his entire life while in her company protecting her from harm but there was nothing he could do to ease her pain this time.

  The unfairness of it kicked him in the stomach. After everything they had endured, Rook had survived the Under Realm only to die several days before they could be with him. Several days! He wanted to scream. Rook had lived through so much—he just hadn’t lived long enough to be reunited with the one person who loved him above all others.

  Silurian stepped away from Alhena and went to her. She saw him and pushed away from Sadyra, letting her staff fall from her hand as she swayed before him, her body shaking, her lower lip trembling. She fell into his arms, crying hard, her breaths coming in fits.

  Holding the dearest person in the world to him, unable to ease her pain, Larina’s warning that they weren’t safe sunk in, but he cared not. If someone killed him, they’d be doing him a favour. He was sure his sister felt the same way.

  Melody stared at the flames of a roaring campfire on the northern edge of The Forke, her mind numb. Darkness settled over her thoughts, leaving her unresponsive to anyone except Silurian. Not even Phazarus had the ability to get past her grief.

  She couldn’t accept Rook’s death. She couldn’t even think about it. Every time she envisioned his angelic face, his disarming smile, his intelligent, deep brown eyes, she struggled to breathe.

  Silurian sat beside her, never once leaving her side.

  Phazarus sat across the fire staring at only he knew what.

  Of the others, they drifted in and out of her consciousness. She vaguely recalled them being introduced to Karvus. A heated discourse had ensued when Sadyra accused him of being one of Helleden’s spies, but Silurian interjected on the emperor’s behalf and explained the bizarre situation.

  As for herself, she remembered not caring whether Phazarus’ friends executed Karvus or not. That she was capable of thinking like that scared her. Her lethargic mind had lost any sense of her usual compassion. She had nothing left to fight for. Her home atop Dragon’s Tooth was gone. Zephyr was gone. Rook was gone. If not for Silurian’s presence she would’ve drowned herself in the tumbling waters of The Frothe—she might still, once she assured herself Silurian would be okay.

  The news had been no less of a shock to her brother. She knew he held tight to his true emotions for her sake. Rook wasn’t just a close friend to him. The quiet bowman had been a kindred spirit.

  She feared for Silurian’s mental well-being. Now more than ever. He had been teetering on the brink of no return for the last while, she was sure of it. If the people of Zephyr had e
ven the remotest chance of survival, it was up to her to prevent him from falling into the madness that forever lingered in the deep recesses of his mind. But, how could she do that when her own mental well being had been shaken to the core?

  Rook had tried to save Silurian from himself many years ago. Only Rook knew how to reach Silurian through the darkness, but he was gone. Her brother had no one left. He obviously cared very much for Phazarus…Alhena, she corrected herself, but she knew Silurian better than anyone. She had seen it in his crestfallen eyes when he had learned of Alhena’s story. The betrayal he was feeling was plain to see.

  Silurian’s moral character, stronger than most, had made him the unique hero Zephyr had once loved. Unfortunately, he didn’t suffer liars well or those who purposely misled him. Learning of Alhena had visibly destroyed the little spirit left to Silurian. Rook’s death had gutted him and snuffed the tiny spark of life left behind his ice-blue gaze.

  Into the Madness

  Silurian awoke next to Melody. He didn’t think he had slept, but he must have because dawn was breaking over the eastern horizon. He sat up and glanced around. Pollard and Sadyra huddled tellingly close to each other while Olmar and Larina also kept each other warm in front of the fire. Alhena busied himself preparing a pot of something Silurian couldn’t see. Of Karvus, there was no sign, but he had grown used to the emperor’s movements. Karvus would be scouting ahead. He wondered if the man ever slept.

  Beside him, Melody lay awake, staring blankly at nothing at all.

  He whispered, “Good morning,” but she didn’t respond.

  He rose and made sure the blanket they had shared was tucked around her before he went off to relieve himself. He came back and settled down beside Alhena, trying his best to see the man in a new light. No longer the unobtrusive old man, but a person to be reckoned with according to the others.

  Alhena had explained to him last night why he hadn’t exposed himself throughout the arduous trials over the last half year. By the end of the explanation, Silurian felt a little less betrayed and a lot more impressed. For Alhena not to react in the face of certain death, holding fast to the belief that he dare not expose him and Melody, could not have been easy.