Daggers of Ladis

by RG Long

  He moved his outstretched hand and Blume rose off the ground. Try as she might, she could not fight off the force keeping her still. The ring on her finger continued to vibrate so hard it hurt.

  “You are not who I expected,” he finished coldly. With his raised fist, he began to make circles in the air. Blume felt the hand on which she wore the ring make the same movements.

  “But I see you've already encountered one of my underlings,” the prince spoke with venom in his words. “I wonder how you fared?”

  Images of black and blue filled the room. Blume could see herself sparring with the Prince of Meris. She could see him draw his sword and she watched as they fired bolts of energy at one another, until they blew the hole in the prison that freed them all.

  “Ah,” the prince said. “Not bad for one so young. I see he’s left his mark on you.”

  Blume did her best to hold in a scream as the ring burned on her finger. She wanted to take it off. She needed to remove it so she could fight with a different Rimstone. The impulse was so strong it hurt. She yearned to use her magic and strike at the man who had her in his grasp.

  “Who... Who are you?” she managed.

  A high pitched, eerie laugh came from the hood.

  “Haven’t you heard? Or even guessed? I am a Prince of Ladis. The most powerful prince there ever was. I am a man who has become more than just a mortal. I will rule this entire blighted continent with the powers given to me by the true gods. I will replace the pathetic fool on the throne of Prommus and rid the world of the blight of Isol. I am Prince Dram, and you will fear my name and my power.”

  The voice was strong and sure and terrible. Blume felt it echo from every fiber of her body and ring in her ears. She yelled out in pain.

  “Blume!” came a cry from beside her. She knew that voice. Ealrin’s voice. She was glad to know he was alright, but prayed that he would stay back. She could feel the magical energy swirling around her, waiting to strike.

  A wisp of black began to emerge from her ring. She could see it from the corner of her eye. It was like a snake whirling through the air, Heading straight for the prince who held her in his grasp. Then, an unearthly shriek split the room and many things happened at once.

  Just as the wisp was going to reach him, he let go of his fist and struck out his hand to swat away the black smoke. It was in that small moment that Blume felt her limbs become hers again. She pulled them towards her body and she fell to the floor. Just before hitting the hard stone there, she struck out her hands at the prince and a bolt of energy shot towards him.

  She heard a scream and a thud. One of those noises belonged to her, but she wasn’t sure which. She also felt a pain in her hand she couldn’t place, a burning, searing pain that made her grasp her hand close to her chest.

  It felt hot and wet.

  There wasn’t any time to collect herself, however. Before she could even open her eyes she felt herself being pulled to her feet and away from the chaos of the room. Men were shouting. A woman screamed.

  “We’ve got to go, Blume!” said Ealrin’s familiar voice in her ear. “Quickly!”

  She didn't know which way she was running. The thought came to her that Ealrin probably didn't know either. But they were running in a group of people down a narrow hall, passing windows that let in the torchlight from outside.

  “This way!” came a yell. It sounded vaguely familiar. Whoever was leading them hopefully knew where to take them. There was a crash and shattering, followed by angry shouts and another thud.

  They ran down a corridor with shouts echoing behind them all the time.

  “Keep going, Mister Ealrin!” Jurrin’s voice rang out. “That last one won’t like the vase I just threw at him!”

  Blume felt relieved to hear the halfling’s voice. She hated the thought of losing another friend to dark magic.

  They were led through a door and into an even smaller hall. It was hardly wide enough for them to walk without turning sideways, but they managed. Ealrin’s strong hands kept her moving forward and she welcomed the support. Her hand still burned, but she didn’t feel quite as weak. That encouraged her.

  “Follow me! And keep moving!” came the female voice Blume had heard earlier. It wasn’t Tratta like she had first thought. It was Rivius.

  “I never would have believed our prince! What a terrible thing to happen in my own house!”

  She sounded flustered and frightened, two emotions Blume had not thought possible with her short history with the woman. She seemed to be in charge of her emotions at all times. Except, perhaps, when magic was involved.

  “This way,” she said, stopping at what Blume could only tell was a solid wall in the hall. But after a moment, a fresh blast of wind came through the cramped passage and Blume knew they were about to head down an even more secret space.

  When she stepped through the door Rivius had opened up, however, she was surprised to find that was not in another hallway, but rather they were standing on the ledge of a building that was several stories off the ground.

  The wind of the early morning swept past her hair. She looked down to see several guards and workers gathering down below in a courtyard. From this vantage point, Blume feared they would be seen. After the group moved down the ledge a few steps, however, they were completely hidden from sight by a tower.

  One that Blume saw they were heading for.

  Rivius was already crossing a section of ledges that connected the one most of them were currently standing on and the tower they were heading for. Blume looked to see that their ledge was only about as wide as her feet. She felt unsteady for a moment, but took a deep breath in order to right herself.

  It wouldn’t do to escape from a magic wielding prince only to fall off a ledge.

  After Rivius, Maccus, Tratta, and Olma crossed the stone bridge that went from building to tower. Blume was next. Ealrin was behind her and nodded encouragingly.

  “You can do it,” he said to her. “Crawl if you need to.”

  Blume didn’t much like the idea of getting down on her hands and knees to crawl across the bridge. She already felt shaky and didn’t want to risk falling just because she needed a new position.

  Counting the steps that it took the others to make it across the expanse, she guessed it would only take her twelve careful strides to close the gap. Taking a deep breath, she put out her first foot and took a step. Then another. And another.

  Suddenly, just as she was beginning to feel confident that she could make the journey on her own power, a gust of wind flew past and made her stumble. She gasped, fearing that she would fall. Looking down, she saw the edge of a roof sticking out below and knew that if she hit the hard clay tiles there, she would be in serious trouble.

  Just as she felt her body was going to go over the edge, she felt a hand grab her own. The momentum she had carried her off the bridge, but that same hand held onto her tightly. Another hand grabbed her arm and held tight.

  Looking up, she saw Ealrin, holding onto her from both sides of the small connecting structure. It wasn’t two breaths before Maccus from the tower side and Mas from behind Ealrin were helping her up.

  She was relieved to have not fallen. But she felt foolish. Where was her balance? Her strength? Her power? Wasn’t she the girl who had defeated demons, stared down dragons, and looked murderous generals in the eyes?

  As Gregory and the rest of the party made their way across with her carefully between them, she held back sudden tears that made no sense to her at all. Once everyone climbed through the window that Rivius opened from the outside, they found themselves in a spare room lit by a single candle.

  “You may spend the night here,” Miss Rivius said. “Get some rest until the coast is clear. I’ll have Ferrin direct you out of the city. You cannot stay or the prince will tear you all to pieces.”

  “No offense, ma’am,” Maccus said, bowing again. “But after all that, he’d probably just throw you in with the rest of us.”

  R
ivius nodded.

  “Yes, I had considered that as well.”

  “Then we need a plan, ya know?” Tratta inquired.

  Blume wanted to rest. She wanted to sleep. She didn’t want anyone to look at her. She felt weak and incapable. The very last thing she felt like doing at the moment was making any plan at all. She just wanted to cry in peace and try to figure out what in the world was wrong with her.

  But that wasn’t quite how this group operated.

  “We’ve got to get back to Meris and rescue Holve and Gorplin,” Ealrin said.

  The room was still for a moment as they all exchanged glances. From outside, Blume could hear soldiers shouting at one another and guards moving about the grounds. They were probably looking for them.

  Maccus chuckled and all eyes turned to him.

  “Yeah,” he said nodding. “Holve will probably be wantin’ to know the king’s bastard wants his throne.”

  34: A Hole in the Rescue

  Silverwolf and Serinde ran as quickly as they could away from the chaos that was the Isolian army. Silverwolf wasn’t sure which she hated more at the moment: the fact that the lizards made a much better distraction than they had planned, that Barton had been captured, or that neither her nor Serinde had managed to grab the amulet from his hands before fleeing the palanquin.

  Each incident seemed equally infuriating.

  “We won’t be able to get close to her again for a long time,” Serinde panted as she ran beside Silverwolf. They were slopping through the soaking grass and back into the forest. At the moment, they were only being pursued by six guards.

  Better odds were not something Silverwolf could have hoped for.

  “We’ve got other problems!” she shouted, seeing the forest rise up in front of them. She let out a yell of frustration.

  The forest wasn’t the only thing in their way.

  A loud hiss and yell came up as they ran for the trees and Silverwolf skidded to a stop. The forest was teeming with the terrible lizard creatures. She grabbed more tightly onto the books in her left hand and shifted the spear to where she could wield it.

  “Hope you know how to use those,” she called back to Serinde, who she had seen grab Ealrin’s sword and Gorplin’s ax. Looking over her shoulder, she saw the elf had already taken down the first soldier who had caught up with them. She stood over the man’s body, looking back grimly at Silverwolf.

  The assassin grunted.

  “Fine,” she said. “That’s one.”

  Silverwolf turned and skewered a lizard who had appeared out of thin air just in front of her.

  “Ha!” she called. “No more disappearing for you!”

  A hiss next to her caught her attention as two more of the lizards came out of their hiding places, spears up and teeth bared.

  “I think we’ll have better luck with Isol,” she said, throwing the carcass of the lizard she had killed at the other two and turning to run back towards the men who had chased them out of the camp.

  She was glad to see they had turned to flee from the approaching lizards as well.

  Serinde took her place beside her, just after she had cut down another Isol guard and let him fall next to his comrade. Both Ealrin’s sword and Gorplin’s ax were wet with red. Silverwolf nodded as they ran.

  This was going to be a day of blood.

  Their only luck was that so many of the Isol soldiers were now focused on the advancing horde of lizards that very few took notice of them. They ran through the ranks as soldiers grabbed weapons and shields and moved towards the oncoming threat. Silverwolf thought, or hoped really, that if they could just run hard and fast enough, they could break through the other side of the camp.

  Chaos could play into their favor.

  “There! Over there!” called a commanding feminine voice. “Those are the ones who were in Her Holiness’ chambers! Grab them!”

  Silverwolf groaned. Hope, apparently, couldn’t hold out for long.

  Seeing the armored warrior pointing down at them from a rise in the plains and tents, Silverwolf shoved Serinde down and they sped as quickly as they could, doubled over and hidden by the tents that had been set up in the pouring rain. Silverwolf thanked the suns that the army had decided to camp out here.

  “Holve said we needed the amulet, too,” Serinde said as they moved from tent to tent. It seemed most of the camp had already organized and run to the lizards’ attack. The sound of only a couple of booted feet still pursued them. The assassin cursed at their doggedness and Serinde’s reminder.

  They did need that necklace.

  “They still have Barton,” she said. “And he was the one who decided to take the thing off Yada’s neck.”

  “Didn’t you find that odd?” Serinde replied.

  If they weren’t running for their life, she probably would have stopped and pondered that fact. That was strange. Wasn’t Barton the one who wanted to get back in Yada’s good graces? Why had he moved to take the necklace off Yada?

  Unless...

  “We need to double back to her box,” Silverwolf said. “See if he’s still alive.”

  That part, she was unsure of. Deciding to turn at the next tent, Silverwolf nudged Serinde and pointed that way, hoping to not tell their pursuers where they were headed.

  “Gotcha!”

  He jumped out from a tent with his dagger in his hand. Silverwolf didn’t have long, but she never needed a large amount of time to react. The old man’s spear was in the soldier’s chest with a blink. He looked surprised, as if he didn’t expect to be so easily put down.

  “I’d tell you to let your friends know not to cross us,” Silverwolf said with a smile. “But you can’t.”

  She withdrew the blade and he fell to the ground.

  “You didn't have to kill him,” Serinde said, sounding sad.

  Silverwolf scoffed.

  “Says the elf who killed two other soldiers just now. Come on.”

  They snaked through tent after tent. The cry of “Dervon! They got Dervon!” rang out only for a moment while they continued to make their way back to Yada’s palanquin and, hopefully, to Barton. Silverwolf felt alive. This was what she needed. Danger. Fear. Fighting for her life.

  It made her feel whole again.

  She held the spear tightly in her grip, wishing another soldier would jump around a tent. Adrenaline coursed through her veins as she prepared to kill anyone who came into her view. Stepping quickly around the next tent, she saw that the only three people in sight.

  Yada. The Isol officer. And Barton.

  It wasn’t a moment before Silverwolf saw the brilliant flash of blue. Yada’s hand was outstretched towards the old guard. The officer held his hair still. The old woman’s mouth was open in a scream of rage. Silverwolf had to shield her eyes against the flash of magical power. When she could take her hand down from her eyes again, she saw the gaping hole in Barton’s chest. It was larger than his own head. The officer let go and Barton’s body fell to the ground in a heap.

  “He had the amulet,” Serinde breathed.

  “He did,” Silverwolf agreed. She grabbed the elf by her arm and took her to the side of a tent. “And if we aren’t careful, Yada’ll blow a hole in us, too.”

  “But we have to get the amulet!” Serinde protested.

  “We don’t have to do anything,” Silverwolf countered. “Except stay alive another day. We’ve got the weapons. Little Miss Magic will just have to make do.”

  She knew Serinde wanted to argue back. She would probably enjoy yelling at her if it didn't mean they would get caught. But neither got what they wished for. At that very moment, as the yells of the Isolian army and the hiss of the lizards began to rise in fervor, a flash of deep purple came from above them.

  Silverwolf looked up and saw the Dark Comet pulsing in the sky, deep and pale against the clouds that had parted ways for it. Night was beginning to fall and darkness was coming down on them.

  So, too, were streaks of purple light. One landed close to the
Isol army camp, just to the south of them. Another to the southwest and two to the west, where the plains stretched out towards the rest of Ladis. A mournful, demonic roar rose up from the south and a flash of energy tore across the sky.

  Silverwolf’s mouth dropped open.

  “Not these beasts again,” she said as she grabbed Serinde’s arm and fled for the forest.

  35: Renewed Vigor

  “My deepest apologies, Your Holiness,” Cas pleaded as he kneeled at Yada’s feet. “We couldn’t find the other two. They’ve escaped through the forest. We weren’t able to pursue them when the... the beasts attacked.”

  Roars of the beasts still filled the night. The magical cannons they had used to bring down two castles were now hastily being constructed and aimed at the creatures. Cas hoped they would work. Nothing else seemed to have made a dent in the creatures. Not even the battle Speakers had been able to keep them at bay for long. Granted, they were doing better than the soldiers with swords and spears.

  Any Rimstone carrying warrior seemed to fare alright for a moment, but the creatures were so strong and so powerful that most grew weary within moments. Those that did, perished in an inferno of purple flames.

  Cas had seen it already. He was at the front when then the demons came from the sky. He wasn’t fighting the lizards, though; he was still looking for the two women who had assaulted Her Holiness.

  But the demons had driven him, as well as most of the Isolian army, back.

  He dreaded having to come back to report to Yada and his captain, but they had spotted him fleeing the battlefield. It was in his best interest to make it seem like he had come to report to them.

  Deserting carried a higher penalty than delivering bad news.

  Most of the time.

  Cas kept his face to the dirt. The swearing of the Speakers around him who were trying to get their magical cannons unpacked and safely placed to force back the demons told him their efforts were not going well. They hadn’t meant to bring these weapons out until they had reached their next target, so they were unprepared.