Rise of the Blood Royal

by Robert Newcomb

Wigg could imagine Ox still trying to control the eager warriors with little at his command save his booming voice. Perhaps more than any of them, Ox would want to be here, standing beside his Jin’Sai. As Wigg looked down the tunnel, the millions of radiance stones in the ceiling added ghostly highlights to the warriors’ stern faces.

  Tristan had been right about one thing, Wigg realized. Trying to move so many warriors through these tunnels was creating a monstrous logjam. They badly needed to exit onto the sandy beach, where everyone could get some breathing room. Still, something gnawed at the old wizard’s well-known sense of danger.

  Standing just behind the Conclave, Taredd, Rhun, Arron, and Rafal had discharged their duties well and carried the two Black Ships without incident. At Wigg’s order the dark wooden crates had been set down on the tunnel floor. One crate still held the last of the precious subtle matter.

  Tristan’s impatience was starting to overcome him, and he knew that Scars, Tyranny, Astrid, Phoebe, and Jessamay were also eager to walk out onto the beach. He gave Wigg a questioning look.

  “Why are we waiting?” he asked. “We have arrived without difficulty. We must proceed!”

  Wigg pursed his lips as he again looked out the tunnel exit. “There’s something strange out there,” he said, half to himself, “something more than the Azure Sea. There is a craft presence here that is eerily familiar yet also foreign.”

  “Can you tell what it is?” Tristan asked.

  Wigg shook his head. “Only that the craft is at work,” he answered.

  The First Wizard glanced over Tristan’s shoulder, and he beckoned Jessamay to come forward. The sorceress squeezed through the crowd to stand with Tristan and Wigg. The First Wizard gave her a searching look.

  “Do you sense anything unusual?” he asked.

  Jessamay closed her eyes. When she opened them, a look of confusion crossed her face.

  “I do,” she answered, “but it’s faint. How long have you sensed it?”

  “For the last quarter hour,” Wigg replied.

  Jessamay smiled. “Your gifts were always stronger than mine,” she said. “Had you not asked me to search it out I might have missed it altogether.”

  “Can you identify it?” Wigg asked.

  Jessamay narrowed her eyes while testing her gifts. “Sometimes the sensation feels like partly cloaked blood. But it changes from one moment to the next—it ebbs and flows much like the sea lying before us.”

  Wigg nodded. “Exactly,” he said. “Would you care to hazard a guess about what it might be? I want us in agreement before we depart this tunnel.”

  Jessamay thought for a moment. “I believe it is the spell that the Ones left behind to force the ocean sounds through these many passageways,” she finally answered. “It must be that because of the way it ebbs and flows. Otherwise I cannot say.”

  Wigg again turned to look out the tunnel and toward the tempting sea. Its sounds still called to him, but now he was so close that it was impossible to say whether it was the sea that he heard, or the spell left behind by the Ones.

  Jessamay must be right, he decided. Her analysis makes sense. Still…

  Wigg turned to look at Rhun. “Bring me the crate containing the subtle matter,” he ordered. Rhun immediately came forward with one crate and placed it at the wizard’s feet.

  “What are you doing?” Tristan asked.

  “If Jessamay and I are wrong, I want the subtle matter with me,” Wigg answered. “The two ships can be replaced if need be. The subtle matter cannot.”

  Wigg called the craft and pointed a bony finger at the crate. Soon the crate started to glow and the leather belts surrounding it unbuckled themselves and slumped downward. Wigg used the craft to slowly open the crate’s sides and lower them gently to the floor.

  The Ephyra sat in her miniaturized cradle, still twinkling with subtle matter. By way of the craft, a glass vial containing the subtle matter had been attached to the ship’s cradle. The jar was about half full of the strange, twinkling material. Wigg reached down and freed it from its resting place.

  Before his group had departed the palace, Tristan had watched as Wigg and Faegan transferred the subtle matter into the flat vial. They had then attached a stout leather cord to the vial’s top. The First Wizard now placed the cord around his neck, allowing the vial to fall to his chest, hidden beneath his gray robe. A faint outline of the vial could be seen, but it would hardly be noticed unless one knew what to look for.

  Then Tristan saw something unexpected. A smaller glass vial containing still more subtle matter had been attached to the inside of the crate. Before he could ask Wigg about it, the wizard employed the craft to close and secure the crate with its leather straps.

  Tristan scowled. “I saw a second vial,” he said. He turned and pointed at the other crate that stood among the warriors. “Does that crate have one inside it too?”

  “It does,” Wigg answered. “Faegan and I fitted each crate with one before we left the palace.”

  “Why do that?” Tyranny asked.

  Wigg gave the privateer a wink. “Call them insurance,” he said simply. He then turned to face the Jin’Sai. “It’s time to go,” he announced.

  Tristan nodded and looked down the passageway. “Draw your swords!” he shouted.

  At once the sound of several thousand Minion dreggans resounded through the tunnel, the combined ring of their blades unmistakable. Each armed Conclave member also drew his or her weapon.

  “I want a group of warriors to surround the crate bearers and the Conclave members as soon as they exit the tunnel!” Tristan shouted. “Move toward the shoreline as quickly as you can! As the phalanxes grow in size I will issue further orders! Let’s go!”

  Eager to be free of the oppressing tunnel, Tristan pushed past Wigg and led the way toward the exit.

  UNKNOWN TO THE CONCLAVE, KHRISTOS HAD HEARD every word.

  The Viper Lord had first sensed the Jin’Sai’s supremely gifted blood nearly an hour ago, telling him that Tristan was nearing the shore. Forty minutes later, he and many of his vipers had quietly left their hiding places to flatten their bodies against the rock wall on either side of the tunnel. Its exit lay about one meter above the sandy beach and was the one from which the Vigors forces would soon spill forth to meet their deaths. Even now, more vipers slithered from other tunnels to take up places along the length of the rocky wall. When the Minions exited their tunnel they would be blindsided and slaughtered, their many comrades bunched up behind them ensuring that retreat would be impossible.

  As Khristos stood eagerly waiting beside the tunnel exit, he called on the craft to linger over the great quality of the Jin’Sai’s endowed blood and listen to every spoken word. The sea waves crashed against the shore, and the beach lay pristine and unbloodied. But not for much longer, he thought.

  For a moment he was tempted to simply stand before the tunnel entrance and loose bolt after bolt into it, killing as many Vigors worshippers as he could. Because of the enclosed space, he would surely destroy many of them. But he could not know whether Tristan, the two Black Ships, or the subtle matter were positioned farther down the length of the tunnel. If so, they all might escape. And so he waited patiently, determined to kill his enemies one by one as they exited the tunnel into which he had so cleverly lured them. Gripping his silver staff tighter, he held it steady alongside the rock wall, eagerly awaiting his prey. His enemies wouldn’t know what hit them.

  Then he heard Tristan give his order to take the beach.

  HAD TRISTAN’S GIFT OF K’SHARI NOT SUDDENLY WARNED him of the impending danger, he would surely have died.

  No sooner did he start to cross the plane of the tunnel exit than his blood started tingling wildly, signaling the rising of his unique gift. This time he followed Aeolus’ advice and he did not question it.

  Leaping from the tunnel, he curled his body into a tight ball, presenting a smaller target. As he hit the sand he heard a deafening explosion. With his blood telling him tha
t it was kill or be killed, he somersaulted twice across the beach, then came up swinging.

  The bolt that Khristos sent raging from his staff had been meant to tear Tristan in half. Instead it missed him by mere inches, singeing his hair and skin. Unfazed, the bolt narrowly missed Khristos’ vipers that lay in wait on the tunnel’s other side, then went crashing into the curved rock wall surrounding the beach to send tons of rock shards crashing down.

  Swinging his dreggan at the first viper he saw, Tristan sent the tip of the blade slicing across the monster’s throat. The thing’s head partly separated from its body and the viper crashed to the sand, its tail snaking about wildly before the beast died. But there was no time for Tristan to revel in his victory, for not only was Khristos again raising his silver staff, but several more vipers were charging him at once.

  Turning on his heels, he let his K’Shari take over again and quickly positioned himself so that the onrushing vipers were directly between him and the unknown being who so powerfully commanded the craft. Suddenly a shocking realization went through him.

  No wonder our Night Witch patrols could not find the vipers! They were here waiting for us! But how…why…

  Suddenly Khristos’ silver staff loosed another bolt. Employing his gift again, Tristan quickly fell to the sand. The bolt soared over the beach to crash into the vipers before him, then shot across the sea to finally fall into the waves, sending plumes of seawater and steam rocketing skyward. The three monsters facing Tristan exploded in a cacophony of blood, bone, and skin.

  Tristan quickly came to his feet to find that he was covered with bloody offal, the grisly sight nearly causing him to vomit. Determined to stay alive, he hacked down one viper after another. But given the huge number of servants at Khristos’ command, he knew that his death would not be long in coming.

  Cursing his luck as he crouched by the rock wall, Khristos saw Minion warriors leaping from the tunnel to land on the sandy beach at an alarming rate. He then saw the other Conclave members exit the tunnel, surrounded by even more ranks of warriors. In moments the beach became a riotous madhouse of death-dealing.

  At first the valiant Minions were killed with deadly precision by Khristos’ bolts and the vipers’ flashing talons and sharp teeth the moment they left the tunnel. But then some of the charging Minion ranks began fighting back. As their numbers grew, so did their chances of survival. Soon a huge battle raged from which neither side could expect any retreat or quarter, as countless more warriors and vipers swarmed from the many tunnels to join their fellows.

  In the midst of the mêlée, Khristos quickly looked around to try to find Tristan and the Black Ships. But the Jin’Sai had become lost to him among the struggling multitudes, and the Black Ships were nowhere to be seen. Suddenly the Viper Lord’s eyes caught something floating high above the Azure Sea. When he raised his face skyward he was stunned by what he saw.

  “Wigg…” he breathed.

  The hated Vigors wizard looked older than Khristos remembered, but there could be no forgetting Wigg’s craggy face or his highly arched widow’s peak. Wigg hovered high in the air some distance out over the ocean. A female craft practitioner hovered beside him—another Conclave member, Khristos guessed. The two cowards were looking down on the battle, refusing to engage. But then Khristos saw something else, and he immediately understood. A flood of emotions ran through him as he realized that Wigg might already have bested him.

  Wigg held a wooden crate in his arms, as did the woman hovering by his side. Before Khristos could act, the First Wizard and Jessamay called the craft and set the crates free onto the air. As the crates flew farther out over the waves, Khristos realized what they contained, and he immediately raised his silver staff to destroy them.

  But Wigg and Jessamay had seen the Viper Lord. Just as Khristos pointed his staff at the first of the hovering crates, Wigg and Jessamay raised their arms. The twin bolts that they sent streaking down at Khristos were met head-on by one the Viper Lord sent upward. The three azure beams collided in a great explosion over the Azure Sea, about half the distance to the hovering crates.

  The explosion’s sound and fury were so massive and the resultant blacklash so great that Khristos was knocked off his feet and sent crashing against the rock wall, rendering him unconscious. Wigg and Jessamay were also affected when the echoing shock wave reached them and were thrown dozens of meters higher into the air as though they had suddenly being caught up in a hurricane.

  Hovering weakly, his body and robe singed, Wigg desperately tried to regain his senses while the terrible battle raged on the distant shore. Jessamay was in still worse straits, but she remained airborne—at least for now. Knowing that Khristos would soon recover and attack again, Wigg summoned all the energy he had left, and he pointed at the nearest hovering crate.

  Soon the crate turned azure and its leather belts slipped free of their brass buckles. But this time only one side of the crate lowered, while the other remained upright to reveal the Ephyra. Again pointing his hand at the case, Wigg focused his energy on the small vial of subtle matter that had been fixed to the top of the crate’s upright side. He watched breathlessly as the vial stopper wriggled free, allowing the subtle matter to sprinkle with agonizing slowness down over the Ephyra. The First Wizard then put the reverse forestallment into effect that would restore the Black Ship to her original size.

  But before Wigg could turn his attention to the other case, he heard Jessamay moan. He turned to see her suddenly go unconscious and start tumbling through the air toward the sea. Wigg quickly sent a wizard’s warp toward her, catching her in midair. He saw her back arch violently, but there had been no other choice. She might have suffered a broken spine, but hopefully her life would be saved.

  With Jessamay safe for the moment, Wigg turned his attention to the other crate and quickly duplicated the process he used on the first one. As the vicious battle seesawed back and forth on the bloody beach, he watched the two crates with wide eyes, desperately hoping that his and Faegan’s plan would work.

  With a groaning heave the Ephyra began expanding in midair. Soon she outgrew her crate, splitting it apart and sending it crashing to the sea. The Tammerland followed suit and also started growing, splintering its wooden crate into matchsticks. As the crate bits fell away, Wigg watched the craft do its amazing work.

  Each ship agonizingly lengthened and grew taller, her spars, hull, sails, and masts groaning in exquisite pain like tortured souls being stretched on dungeon racks. On and on the spell went, continuing to enlarge the vessels until they regained their original size. Their huge bulk soon overshadowed the beach, the effect so mesmerizing that some of the desperate fighters paused for a moment to gawk up in abject wonder.

  Although the ships had been enlarged, Jessamay dangled precariously some one hundred meters below Wigg, and the First Wizard’s plan was unraveling fast. Jessamay was to have empowered the Ephyra and kept her aloft while Wigg did the same with the Tammerland. But Wigg was still dazed, and the strain of simultaneously holding Jessamay and enacting the One’s spell had weakened him far too much for him to empower both ships.

  He stole a few precious moments to look down at the battle. Even now, neither side had gained the upper hand. Explosive azure bolts streaked here and there among the fighting, but from so high up he couldn’t tell who was casting them. Nor could he learn whether Tristan or any of the other Conclave members had been killed. Knowing that there was little he could do to change the outcome, he concentrated what remained of his energy on saving Jessamay and the two Black Ships.

  Just then the Ones’ spell ended, leaving Wigg’s rapidly dwindling gifts the only way to keep the ships airborne. To his horror, the massive vessels began plummeting toward the sea, listing crazily as they fell. With a monumental effort he empowered the Tammerland on her way down, holding her steady in the air while she righted herself. With his other hand he lifted the warp holding Jessamay, then moved her toward the Tammerland and let her fall onto the shi
p’s bow deck. But he had been too late to save the Ephyra. As he watched her plummet toward the Azure Sea, he felt his heart rend in two.

  I beg the Afterlife, he thought. What have I done?

  Finally regaining consciousness, Khristos gathered himself up from the sandy beach to see that many of his vipers had surrounded him and were staving off the vicious Minions who wanted him dead. He quickly levitated into the air above the fray, then pointed his silver staff at the cluster of warriors ringing the vipers.

  Khristos’ azure bolt launched straight into the warriors’ midst, sending blood, armor, and body parts flying. Landing in a blood-soaked clearing a few meters away, Khristos looked up just in time to see one massive Black Ship hovering in the sky and the other plummeting crazily toward the sea.

  With a mighty crash the Ephyra hit the waves, sending a plume of water high into the air. She bounced, then crashed violently down again into the ocean. As the seawater fell around her, Khristos strained his eyes, hoping that the ship had been smashed into kindling. When the scene cleared, he raised his fists and shook them at the sky.

  The Ephyra had survived.

  He watched transfixed as the Black Ship heeled over and nearly cap-sized. To his chagrin, she finally righted, her rigging swinging violently to and fro as she settled down. Many of her spars were broken and one of her masts lay across the main deck, but she looked otherwise intact.

  Casting safety to the winds, Khristos cursed and ran toward the shoreline. Again raising his silver staff, he pointed it at the stricken ship’s bow. If he couldn’t destroy both ships, he would at least try to send one of the black bastards to the bottom.

  But just as he raised his staff, a figure lunged across his path, blocking his view. Khristos snarled and was about to sidestep the fighter when he saw the pair of dark blue eyes boring into his and sensed the stranger’s supreme blood quality.

  The Jin’Sai.

  As the battle whirled around them, for a moment the two enemies glared at one another. Then Khristos screamed and pointed his staff at Tristan’s chest.