The Staff of Power

by D E Boske

  She continued to scream, but fed him information when she could. He periodically eased the pain so she could speak, else she would be useless to him. He could hear the bones in her body breaking and rearranging themselves as they remade her into a frightening caricature of herself. She begged him for her life, but he merely laughed at her pain.

  After he’d made sure she told him everything she knew, he let the magic consume her until her body was twisted practically inside out. He smiled at his handiwork.

  He looked at her still form on the bed. Her face, once beautiful, was now twisted in a hideous mask of torture and pain. The spell of silence kept the sounds of her agonizing death from anyone’s ears. They would never find out how she had died. He made certain. He had spent years creating this spell for occasions such as this one. He was thorough and had covered every possible outcome.

  He swore he would return to kill her when he was certain he could control himself around her and not give away that he knew everything. Kyler had given him the perfect excuse to get away. What a waste of a beautiful woman, he thought.

  Cowl pulled close, he went to see what his gold had done. He found the two-story brick building easily enough. When he knocked, a middle-aged man answered.

  “Yes, can I help you?” He looked slightly alarmed at seeing a Mage of The Order on his

  doorstep again. What could they want this time? Hadn’t they taken everything he had the last time? He had nothing left to give.

  “James Orwan?” Darian asked. He must be certain.

  “Yes…” he replied hesitantly.

  “My name is Darian. I’m the one who sent the letters… and the gold.”

  “Darian! Please come in. I’m sorry. I had no idea who you were. I couldn’t fathom what The Order wanted with me this time. Please sit. I’ll find my wife and get you something to drink.”

  “Thank you,” he replied, taking a seat. A few moments passed and James returned with his wife, who was carrying a tray of drinks. She set it on the table and embraced the Mage.

  “Thank ye Darian, for looking after our girl and takin’ care of her and us. We owe ye everythin’,” said Gayla’s mother.

  “You owe me nothing. As I explained in my letters, no one may know of me. I would appreciate your discretion.” Darian had insured that no one would find out. Once they read his letters, they disintegrated, leaving nothing. Not even ash.

  “Of course, because of your help, my wife is healthy for the first time in a long time. My business is doing well and we have a decent place to live. How is Gayla? Can we see her?” asked her father.

  “Not right now. It’s too dangerous. She is doing well, though. Thank you for the lemonade. I should go now.” James walked him to the door and Darian placed a fat leather purse in his hands.

  “This will be the last payment for some time. As you have seen, war is upon us and I will be quite busy. Until we meet again.” He was lost from sight almost immediately. Tears of gratitude fell from James’s eyes at the Mage’s kindness.

  ﴾﴿ ﴾﴿ ﴾﴿

  Minutes after Darian had gone, the thief and the bard walked past the house, oblivious that the one they searched for had eluded them again.

  Darian had just stepped back through the gate when Morphindinaetlus flew over Al-Dan-Tir. The Knights of Shorlan were ready for the attack. However, the arrows they shot bounced off, falling harmlessly to the earth.

  On his next pass, the mighty beast and his fiery breath attacked the Knights. Several burned alive, cooked inside their armor. Their dying screams would haunt Tansher Morningstar for days to come.

  He saw Koryn, who had returned unharmed and without a good explanation, throw a

  javelin, but the dragon steered away from the missile.

  Swooping down, he caught a Knight in his talons, tearing him apart and spraying blood and gore over the city. At Tansher’s command, they lit balls of pitch and launched them from huge catapults. One struck the Mighty Green on his side and he roared in fury, letting loose a fiery blast, scorching the buildings it touched, even melting one of them.

  Rohn stepped forward, aiming his javelin. He said a quick prayer to Shenna to let his aim be true. He sighted his target and let fly. It wasn’t a fatal hit, but it sunk an inch deep in the dragon’s rear leg. Morphindinaetlus roared, beating his massive wings. He would not be able to remove it right now.

  Stryker and company came to lend what aid they could. He had a mithril crossbow and bolts. The first bolt took the dragon in the neck. He howled in pain, coming in low. He intended to knock the offending dwarf off the wall. The next bolt hit him in his already wounded leg. Kibblewolf launched a throwing axe, hitting the dragon in the side.

  Morphindinaetlus bellowed, sending a searing blast of flame their way. He made one more pass over the city, then flew off toward the Ancient Mountain. He must remove the javelin so his regenerative abilities could heal him.

  He had not seen the Mage or his companion. Either they were hiding, which was unlikely, he did not think they feared death, or they had not yet entered the city. His informant had told him as much, but he wanted to see for himself. She would notify him when they came.

  Mordinian the thief and Torgyn Ro the bard went to find the thief’s contact. He knocked on the door and when there was no answer, he removed the tools of his trade, gaining access. Once inside, they found several candles burning low and a trail of clothes leading to the bedroom.

  He smiled to himself. He must have been here. “Rushani, are you decent?” asked the thief. “Rushani, are you alright?” he called again. When no answer was forthcoming, he went to her bedroom.

  She lay motionless, naked upon the bed. Her face was twisted into a mask of unbearable torture. Her whole body was bent and twisted in upon itself. A glass filled with a vile smelling concoction sat upon her night table. He could detect nothing, no trace of magic or anything else. No matter, he knew the Mage was responsible. He had to be. The Mage must have found out and dispatched her. Maybe he was more unstable than the thief was led to believe. If that were so, they must be very careful indeed.

  They heard a terrible commotion, the sounds of battle filling the air. They made sure they left things the way they found them and returned to their rooms at the Serpent’s Kiss.

  “What do you think this means?” asked Torgyn.

  “It’s obvious, isn’t it? He’s been here. He must have found out she was selling information and silenced her.”

  “I meant the dragon. What is it doing here and what do we do now?” the bard asked, taking out his flute and beginning to play.

  “Yes, that is troubling. If the Mage came here once, more than likely he’ll return. I say we wait a while longer,” the thief said, obviously distracted.

  “For what purpose?”

  “Because we are being paid to do so. We have not made contact with him yet and those were our orders.” He turned his long-suffering gaze on the bard, but Torgyn merely shrugged disinterestedly.

  Sometimes, he wondered why he traveled with the thief. It was profitable sure, but sometimes, it just wasn’t worth putting up with him and his superior attitude. Very few even knew his name, but the bard did not consider himself lucky to know it. If anything, he felt cursed.

  More often of late, he seriously considered going off on his own again and just performing. He’d loved music and storytelling ever since he was a child. Though he was not yet beyond boyishness, his love for the arts had not dimmed at all. In fact, his passion grew with each new moon and he could not wait to meet up with the elf and the Mage to compose his first of many songs.

  Though he was quite talented, he was the object of much ridicule among his peers because of his age. That is, until they heard his pure, strong voice. Every note he sang was true and he sang with such emotion, as if the words were engraved on his heart.

  He traveled with the thief because Mordinian saved his life. At the time, he had nowhere to go and nothing to lose, so what the hell? But now he’d made a name for
himself, had gold in his pockets and could get work easily enough. He detested the thief, but recognized he was a necessary evil. He still did not understand how the thief could sense magic. It must be an item on his person, but what it was the bard had no idea.

  He continued to play his flute, more for the pure enjoyment of it than any other reason. It soothed the beast that was the thief. Oddly enough, he loved music as well. He would probably make a good musician with his dexterous fingers.

  Since he had met up with Mordinian, the bard had learned several spells. Like the one

  he used on the Knights they had captured. That was the biggest reason why he stayed with the thief. He was learning at a rapid rate and he didn’t want it to slow down.

  Since they began traveling together, he had improved on many levels and he did not wish to stop now. Although he loathed the thief, their relationship was just one indignity among many that he was prepared to suffer.

  So, he used the newest spell he’d acquired, wove it into the music and before he knew it, the thief was fast asleep. The bard smiled to himself and went downstairs to perform.

  ﴾﴿ ﴾﴿ ﴾﴿

  When they stopped for the night and their meal was completed, Tryndil walked over to Tryllia, handing her a mug of ale.

  “Thank you,” she said, unsure of his intent.

  “Why did you leave? Was the thought of becoming my wife so terrible?” he asked sadly.

  “No Tryndil, not at all. I was just scared and behaved like a frightened Ni’ Kulana. I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I know it comes too late and you can never forgive me. But for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I look at you now and realize how foolish I was. I should have stayed. Leaving was the biggest mistake of my life.”

  She took a sip from her mug, it was cold and that was all that really mattered. She drank the rest down, afraid to look at him. He moved closer to her, put his arm around her and held her close. Setting his mug down, he raised her face. Tears stained her cheeks and he gently wiped them away.

  Takasha! What was he doing about to get involved with her again? By Shenna, there must be a reason they both found each other again. If not to start fresh, then why? He surprised her when he leaned forward and kissed her softly. At first, she did not respond. When her shock wore off, she dropped the empty mug to the ground, threw her arms around him and kissed him back.

  “Your bedroll or mine?” he asked breathlessly.

  “Both, we’ll have more room.” She said, undoing his shirt.

  Kryndale watched from afar, shaking his head in disbelief. Everyone needs female companionship, but he knew it was different with Tryndil. He knew his friend had never really gotten over her. Now they were getting involved again. Well, for his friend’s sake, he hoped she was different now. Maybe this time…

  Nephraete sat with Kyler and the elf whose hand she held frequently. He did not remember him from Kaleika Bay. Where had she met him? Kryndale could not take his eyes off her. She was so beautiful and happy! He’d never seen her this happy before. The separation from her father really agreed with her.

  The Mage had yet to appear since his dramatic departure. Kryndale’s boys were getting along well with the others. For the first time in quite a while, he felt as if he’d made a good decision. Leaving Kaleika Bay behind had been hard in the beginning. But he was confident that he made the right choice. He honestly liked Kyler and believed the Gor Li’ Khan would fit in. He felt certain that the Gor Li’ Khan’s talents would finally be used wisely.

  “May I sit with you?” he looked up to see Kyler’s sister and stood immediately.

  “Please, that would be most welcome indeed,” he replied.

  “My name is Tynuviel,” she said, giving him a warm smile.

  “Well met, Tynuviel. I am Kryndale. I do not mean to sound forward, but Takasha! You are beautiful.”

  “Thank you,” she said, laughing. “I thought if we could talk for a while, it would help take your mind off Nephraete. I couldn’t help but notice how you watch her. I can’t imagine how you must feel after coming so far.”

  “Well, I began to piece it together bit by bit. By the time we reached Marubiel, I knew she never loved me at all. If only she’d told me. I would never force myself on her. I can see how happy she is. I’ve never seen her laugh or smile so much. She is finally free. Free from her father’s yoke.”

  “Do you think he’ll send more after her?” she asked, concerned.

  “I doubt it. He did not even send us. I insisted we come after Nephraete. Tryndil tried to warn me not to, but I wouldn’t listen. Maybe it will be for the best. Only Shenna can say,” said Kryndale with more assurance than he felt.

  “It shouldn’t be too hard to find someone else. Our forest is plentiful and you are handsome,” said Tynuviel carefully.

  “You are not interested then?” he asked with a wry smile.

  “I’m sorry, no. I… Let’s just say that love has not been kind to me either. I cannot get him out of my head or my heart.”

  “Friends then?” he asked.

  “Friends,” she said with a smile. She passed him a flask filled with Nykessa and he took a pull on it and handed it back.

  “So, who owns your heart?”

  “Darian.” He nearly choked on the wine.

  “The Mage?” he asked, once his throat was clear.

  “Yes,” she said hesitantly, beginning to suspect he knew something she did not. She

  began to panic, bile rising in her throat.

  “That is forbidden. You know that, don’t you? You would risk the ire of The Order? The penalty is death.” Her shocked expression was explanation enough.

  “How do you know these things? This cannot be, he… Then why do they make them so damn good looking?”

  “You forget what we do. Our business is in information and misinformation. The Order does not let secrets go. We ferret them out. Not much is known of The Order and they would keep it that way. How long have you known him?”

  “I think I’ve said too much already,” she said firmly.

  “You don’t trust me, I know. Why should you? We’ve only just met. You can trust me. I am loyal to your father. I don’t really expect you to believe me, but in time… who knows?”

  It was the middle of the night. The camp was finally quiet. Tryllia rested peacefully in Tryndil’s arms. Calisha lay close to Nephraete, Kyler and Tynuviel. The rest were scattered about the camp.

  Kryndale suddenly opened his eyes and shouted an alarm to wake the camp. He became perplexed when no one heard his shouts of warning.

  “There is an intruder in our midst. Awake!” he shouted in elvish, but the cloaked figure before him merely laughed.

  “Shout all you want assassin. They will never hear you.” The voice croaked.

  “What have you done?” he asked.

  “Why did you tell her?” the figure demanded, lowering his hood. The Mage! Takasha!

  “I… I… thought she knew. Her involvement with you is forbidden. You know this. Why would you pretend otherwise?”

  “Because I love her, you dolt. She should have found out from me. I tried so many times to tell her. I will find a way for us to be together.”

  “You’re just fooling yourself, Mage. It can never happen and you know it. The Order…”

  “Do not speak to me of things you cannot fully comprehend! You do not know me and you know nothing of The Order.”

  “You’d be surprised what I know. Does Kyler know of your deception? I think not. I bet

  he’d be most interested to learn…” But he never got to finish. Darian put his fingers to the elf’s forehead and he collapsed, falling like a dead tree. Darian did not even try to break his fall.

  “So tell me, how did it feel to find that Nephraete did not love you after coming all this way?” Of course, he did not expect an answer from the unconscious elf.

  In the morning, Kryndale awoke with the remnants of a strange dream. He rose to find that he had never made it
to his bedroll. He lay upon the cold, hard ground right where he’d fallen… He went to get something to eat and found Darian already in the camp. Something in his eyes told Kryndale it had been no dream. The Mage just watched him, his face smooth and expressionless. But those eyes! They were so cold. Like chips of ice. Cold and calculating like a predator. Kryndale did not wish to anger him, so he remained silent.

  This was no monster, but a man. A man of flesh, blood and a Mage to boot. No, he did not want to cross wits with this one. The Mage could probably strike him dead if he so chose. He decided he would remain on his good side. He nodded and the Mage nodded in return. Apparently, Kyler did not know much about the Mage that he called his friend.

  Out of habit, as the Gor Li’ Khan walked, they disappeared, blending into their surroundings. They seemed to vanish from sight, which was very disconcerting. Only Tryndil remained visible as he walked hand in hand with Tryllia. They did not speak much, had no real need to, their closeness was enough.

  Asa did not seem to mind Tryndil replacing him. He walked with Kiel and Tireniel, laughing and joking all day.

  Shaz walked under the watchful eyes of Chamlen and Lorin. He rolled his eyes contemptuously. Was he that big a threat? Well, instead of calming down, things had reached the boiling point.

  The tension between Kyler and Darian was palpable. They had not spoken in days. Not since their disagreement about Ty. It sure was interesting traveling with them. Never a dull moment with this bunch. He wasn’t sure if they would complete their mission and remain alive. At any moment, they might self-destruct.

  In the short time he traveled with them, he had never seen the two friends so at odds with each other. By the looks on the other’s faces, neither had they. What could this mean? How long would this go on? He had better choose sides wisely.