by Dan Neil
—
Gaheris heard a knock on his door as he filed paperwork in the Middle Magic Chamber, a dark and vile place full of creepy trinkets. The door opened slightly. He was shocked to see none other than Keia Atlos walk through.
Not attempting to hide his disdain, he asked, “What could possibly bring you here?”
Surprise overtook her face. “This is still your office?”
“Yes, why?”
“I was hoping Lord Mercer had moved in here.”
Gaheris leaned back. “Lord Mar was happy to take a different chamber, considering my—tenure.”
“Which one, exactly?”
Gaheris eyed her suspiciously. “If you’re looking for Lord Mar Mercer, you’re out of luck. Only Lord Rheinley and I aren’t in attendance of Gladios. I’m your only option, I’m afraid, unless you’d like to speak to the King’s Adviser on Law—though I don’t think he’s seeing visitors currently.”
The girl squirmed, as if looking for a reason to be somewhere else. Her shoulders slumped as she twirled her hair, staring at the ground.
Finally, Keia took a seat before him, looking exhausted and grave, her eyes wide in horror. Intrigued, Gaheris watched intently.
She began, “I had a premonition. Something is going to happen today, at Gladios; I saw it.”
“What exactly do you think will happen? I’ll need more than ‘something.’”
“Something has managed to use shadow telepathy on the kingdom. Whatever it is could be controlling dozens, or even hundreds, of people,” Keia whispered. “This entity tampered with the Eternal Laws of Magic and is planning an attack during Gladios. It might be the same entity that controlled Lorinal. Or even Devin, when she attacked me in the vault.”
Gaheris picked at his cuticles. “What is this entity you describe?”
“I don’t know his name,” Keia said, “but you have to call off the matches today. We can’t risk their lives. I saw it happen—”
“I’m afraid I have no basis upon which to call off any match. We cannot delay an event of this magnitude for the whims of one girl. The king would be most displeased if—”
“It’s not a whim!” Keia slammed her fist on the table. “I know what I saw. The spectators, the lords, the king, they’re all in danger!”
Leaning back, Gaheris said nonchalantly, “Until you can tell me about this entity and exactly what he is planning, I simply have no reason to deal with it.”
Keia hissed through her teeth, “You’re just going to let them die because you’re too cowardly to tell the king? That’s what’s really going on here, isn’t it?”
“Now, listen, girl—” Gaheris began.
“No, you listen! What I saw—it was real. As real as you sitting before me—more real. You have to listen to me. You have to call the tourney off. Everyone in those seats is at risk.”
“Do I?” Gaheris asked sarcastically. “I did not realize that you were in a position to tell me what I do and do not have to do. You are clearly suffering from some sort of delusion. There is no need to be afraid, Keia. The king’s enemies would never be so bold. Such an act would be tantamount to declaring war.”
Keia scowled. “I am afraid, and with good reason. I’m bringing a security concern to your attention, one that could cost thousands—”
“And you have done that admirably, Keia. Is there anything else you need? Your fight starts in one hour.” Gaheris stared straight into her eyes. “Perhaps this delusion is to protect you from the world watching you fail.”
“No,” Keia said as she eyed him angrily. Her skin had taken on a green pallor; Gaheris hoped she wouldn’t empty her stomach right there. “No, that was all.”
She made to leave before briefly turning around, “I hope I’m wrong—for your sake and mine. Because it’s on both of our hands now.”
Gaheris opened his mouth in protest, but before a word left his mouth, the girl was gone.
—
King Symon arrived at Gladios’s Royal Booth early for the next spate of matches. Waiters poured wine for the rowdier lords in the booth. Symon sat next to High Primarch Phaustian Griswold on his left and Lord Jaqu Sylbian of Lazreis on his right. Behind him were Lady Lazara Egon of Nar’ith and Lord Locke Halcion of Opanira.
Nevii Dannicos stood next to her lord. She was born blind and had replaced her eyes with spellstones. Mind magic helped compensate for her lost sense. She was reputed to be kind-hearted but fierce in defense of her lord.
Lord Stern Keenig and Lord Gerhardt Rheinley had been the first to arrive; they promptly reminded everyone of the importance of punctuality. Lady Katarinerva Vandor of Greislav and Lord Virgal Osu of Velshamsphire arrived separately. Lord Haik Larkkson of Jur’Anan and Lord Aoras Anarda of Vertan arrived last, their bellies already full of wine.
“I don’t know what went wrong with the boy,” Lord Sylbian complained to King Symon. “Ah, I suppose I should’ve seen it earlier—he always had a fondness for killing stray animals in Kent. Though I never expected—I wonder, are some born beasts in human skin, or was it some mistake on my part?”
“The Other, who has opposed Aion since the beginning of time, corrupts the souls of some,” High Primarch Griswold chimed in. “It is for the holy children of Aion to oppose his machinations.”
The king was about to respond when he was reached by none other than Gaheris, nested in his foul perch.
What the hell could he want?
‘My king.’ Gaheris’s voice was strained and distressed. ‘I have—strange news, I fear.’
‘Get on with it,’ the king demanded. He enjoyed Gladios precisely because it helped him get away from his duties—and people like Gaheris.
‘This morning, Keia Atlos came to me claiming to have had a vision about some calamity that will befall Genievon at the King’s Tourney today. She seemed delirious, but—’
‘It’s of no consequence. None would dare attack my kingdom so brazenly.’
‘Of course, my king, I only wanted to bring the matter to your attention. I have my own suspicions—Keia is still a below-average mage. Perhaps she is merely afraid.’
‘Is that all, or are there other hallucinations to report?’ Symon asked.
‘No, none, my king. I—I was just thinking that perhaps we could increase security, just in case? She seemed quite confident in her vision.’
‘The master knights are here. The lords and ladies of the provinces are here, as well as their Honor Guards; and many of the King’s Militia are here. I assure you that Gladios is safe as can be.’
‘Of course, my king. I am sorry to have disturbed you.’
Symon ended the reach. He scowled as the first fighters of the day took the stage. Why did Gaheris bother him with such nonsense? The girl couldn’t even cast fire, and now stock was put into her visions?
Lord Locke Halcion asked, “Something wrong, my king?”
“No,” Symon replied, “nothing at all.”
—
The world blurred around Keia as she walked toward the Hall of Mages. The urge to run increased with each step, but her body seemed to move of its own accord. Her legs were weak, and her hands trembled. The cheering people around her, oblivious to imminent danger, only worsened her mental state.
Thoughts moved too quickly to take shape in her mind, which, by now, seemed like a screaming void of a thousand hopeless voices. Something horrible was going to happen. Why did Gaheris have to be her only option? The lords, ladies, and master knights were all at Gladios. Keia hoped her vision meant nothing but knew better. Everyone of importance within Gaddeaux was gathered in one place, vulnerable because of their arrogance.
There was no one to go to, no one who would believe her. Keia knew what was coming but was powerless to stop it. She walked in a trancelike state to the proper portal, where the last person in Genievon she wanted to see was w
aiting near the entrance.
Lorinal’s face was plastered with a devilish grin. “Today’s the day, little Atlos.”
Keia groaned. “What day? Why the hell are you here?”
Lorinal sneered. “The day everyone sees what you really are. And this isn’t anywhere special. Even us,” she said through gritted teeth, “civilians, can be here.”
“See me for what I am—and what would that be?” Keia asked. She barely paid Lorinal any mind; there were more important things to worry about.
“A fraud and a murderer. You’re nothing but a two-faced freak with shite magic. You’re gonna get bloodied up out there when you take on someone who knows what they’re doing.”
Keia kept her silence. She made for the portal.
“You can’t break the chains, Keia!” Lorinal shouted after her. “I’ve waited too long for this! I’m going to have justice for what you did!”
Keia looked back. You can’t break the chains—where have I heard that before?
Keia shook her head upon stepping into the Hall of Mages. She adjusted Valiance and made sure Ziel was secure. The deafening cheers of the crowd pierced the rattling walls. Keia’s stomach had been roiling since that morning, and it was only getting worse.
Not one of them knows what’s coming. I’m their last hope—me. And there’s nothing I can do.
She closed her eyes and prayed. Any of the old gods—Aion, Behem, any god willing to listen—please don’t let these people die.
Time went by in a blur as Keia’s mind raced. Suddenly, her name was called.
“Keia Atlos!” the stage manager said. “You’re on.”
Keia snapped to attention. “I—I’m sorry?”
“Your match begins now. This way, please.”
Keia was beckoned to the entrance. The hallway to the arena seemed to extend forever, but eventually, she came to the end of it and emerged in the light. Her surroundings felt surreal; the cheering crowd was muted by a ringing in her ears. She felt frozen in place. The world moved around her, bringing the stage—and catastrophe—ever closer. She and her opponent, a young man named Rory Leflore, were introduced to mild applause. Nobody expected much from this fight.
Sir Kaine Sawyer reiterated the rules while Keia subtly scanned the audience.
Too many faces.
She was directed to bow to King Symon, who raised his glass and nodded.
“Begin!” shouted Sir Kaine as he stepped off the stage.
“Best of luck!” Rory raised his wand.
Keia readied Valiance as her eyes kept moving. “Yeah, you too.”
A chillingly familiar voice said, “You can’t break the chains, Keia.”
Her head whipped back toward her opponent. For a moment, everything was still and quiet. Rory still looked like Rory, but there was malice deep in his glassy eyes, a thousand years’ worth of hatred bleeding through the haze. He snapped his fingers.
Keia’s heart skipped a beat. Sheer terror streaked through her body, ripping a shriek from her throat. A bright light flashed in the stands, followed by a deafening boom as Gladios Arena exploded in magical flames.
Chapter 27
Loud and Clear
Day 7 of the Season of Life, 1020 YAR
When the sun rose, Scipion was already awake. He slept quite well, thanks to exhaustion; so, he began his day early. He walked to the river, relieved himself, and ate before the others woke. Their camp slowly began to rise as he stretched out for another day’s march.
Eritar bucked and galloped around a bit upon greeting Scipion, and the soldiers were singing at their morning fires. After a night of rest, they were much sharper in their focus. Good spirits had fallen over their camp.
It might not be wise to work them like that again, Scipion thought as he watched the army pack up. One man emerged from the chaos, making a path to the Scorpion Knight. Echo Moniz trotted to him.
He hailed, “What news do you bring?”
“Scouts have returned,” Echo answered. “They found Anton’s army. By their estimates, he has fifty horses, and some thousand on foot.”
Scipion’s stomach sank. “One thousand men!”
Echo said, “Roughly—probably more. They’re moving east but not so much south. The scouts went through one settlement further north—the Cave Creek Settlement; they found nothing but ashes, and...”
“What else?”
“Savagery,” Echo said. “Things I dare not speak of.”
“Tell me,” the Scorpion Knight said.
Echo stood still, staring at the ground. Another scout rushed up behind him. “I am Kagiri. Echo’s faith in Behem does not allow him to utter such monstrosities; so, I will tell you. They found several bodies nailed with daggers to wooden poles, stripped of their skin. They were arranged as if it were some sort of ceremony.”
“Arno,” Scipion said. “It would have to mean Arno is with them. Anton would never engage in ritual sacrifice.”
Echo frowned. “That’s just the thing: it wasn’t a ritual; it was a message.”
“What did he do?”
Echo shook his head, and his eyes gave off a look of sadness. Kagiri nodded and continued, “They took limbs from the villagers and spelled it out. Some were missing, probably stolen by wild dogs, but from what my scouts could gather, he was saying—”
“Out with it—what was he saying?” Scipion demanded, annoyed that his scouts kept trailing off.
Echo answered, “‘Come and get me.’ He spelled it out, hoping you would find it personally.”
Scipion took a moment. These poor people were painstakingly tortured to prove a sadistic point. He could hardly believe such evil existed that would go to these lengths for a message. He harbored no doubt the other scouts would return with similar news.
He faced away from Echo, his fists shaking in anger. Those bodies are on my hands. My plan doomed them. Left them exposed to monsters.
“There was no way that we could have prevented this,” Echo said. “He was days ahead of us. Even if we all showed up there, every one of us suffering from sleep exhaustion, we would have been too late. The scouts were days too late, even.”
“I know. It’s just infuriating. I’m the one he wants.”
“But he understands the difference between you: you care for them, and he cares only for himself. He can get to you by hurting them, but you can only harm him directly.”
Scipion’s eyes fell to the ground. “I understand.”
He thought over their next move. He faced the master of scouts once more.
Echo kicked the ground. “What are we going to do?”
Heart still heavy, Scipion said in a weary voice, “We certainly aren’t going to allow him to taunt us into a bad position. If he is slow enough going through the first few settlements, we could meet him before then. Otherwise, we must stay the course. If he beats us to Bottleneck Pass or gets around us, we lose.”
“Understood,” Echo replied. “I’ll send out more scouts to ascertain their position. These scouts last sighted them just south of us. I have no idea if they’re ahead of us or not.”
“Report to me when the others return, and send scouts to the remaining villages to warn them. We’ll be having a war counsel tonight, as well. And Echo?”
“Yes?”
“I have a specific question for your scouts to find the answer to, if possible.”
Nodding, Echo said, “Whether they will be able to find it or not depends on the question.”
The Scorpion Knight’s voice was commanding as he said, “I need to know the status of their food supplies.”
—
They marched on. Scipion and Matalo rode in the front and talked about what their move might be. Scipion told Matalo of the mutilations, and his friend was horrified.
“I knew it,” Matalo said. “There was no
way we could have prevented that one, but still, it shows that he’ll go to any lengths to taunt us.”
“To bait us,” Scipion corrected. “He wants us to make the wrong move, and he’s trying to help us do that. He spelled out, ‘Come and get me.’ He wants a merry chase. I won’t give him one.”
Matalo said quietly, “That may be so, but why should they die because they were unlucky enough to live where they did?”
“I’m not saying they should die, or that it is right for them to die,” Scipion replied. “It’s unfair; it always is. Why did our home have to get sacked, our women sold into slavery? Why did King Logan have to watch his mother be desecrated by Yfrayne Black Heart? Did the thousands who died when Bhothar took over these lands deserve to die, or was that not considered?”
“Our job is to prevent those things,” his friend stubbornly said. “If we can, we should.”
“At what cost? We lose our choice of ground, our choice of pace, and our choice of travel. We need to stay our own course and limit his damage—once he knows our intention, he will waste no time in sending more messages. But if he gets away, thousands more will suffer, and we will die trying to reach him.”
“I know, tactically, the reason that we’re doing it,” Matalo said. “I just refuse to be happy about it.”
“After what Anton did, I don’t think I’m much happier with it than you,” Scipion agreed. “It doesn’t make any of this easy, but this is the world we have.”
Matalo nodded and fell into silent contemplation. Scipion turned to the side of the road, and the woman was there again, smiling warmly. Her quick, elegant steps made her appear as if she moved on the wind. Only Scipion saw her. She smiled and danced until her eyes met Scipion’s. He stared, bewildered by her presence, until Matalo’s shouts snapped him back to attention.
“Scipion! Pay attention, would you? There’s somebody out on the road!”
The Scorpion Knight turned. A lone man approached, carrying a glowing spear. He looked young, perhaps twenty and six, and had a large frame. His long, black hair flowed in the light breeze, and his brown eyes pierced Scipion, who immediately halted Eritar.
