by R. J. Batla
“My prince,” Derno, the red, green, and brown bodyguard said, placing a tray with a telestone on it in front of Corbman. “It’s from home.”
Corbman nodded and picked it up. “Hello. Yes, this is he. No, don’t bother my father with it. Take it from my personal stores and make sure they’re all fed. No, it’s the least I can do. Take enough gold to get them through the winter. You’re very welcome.” He hung up the telestone and Derno immediately pulled it away.
Corbman turned to Orgen, one of his other bodyguards. “What’s the situation in the seventh street slums?”
“They’re still in need, my prince.”
He looked like he was doing some mental calculations. “Take enough from the gold we brought to get them fed and covered.”
“It will be done, my prince.” Orgen turned and sauntered away, and Corbman’s face turned thoughtful as he drank his beer.
I looked at him in a new light. Even while here at the tournament he was helping people. People he’s probably never met, nor ever will. My respect for Corbman just ticked up a few notches. Apparently he’d brought enough gold to cover such expenses. Now I was curious what his homeland was like.
Leona walked over and disrupted my train of thought, nodding to Corbman as she did, and a grin appeared on his face. “Well, how you doin?”
“So what’s happens now?” she asked, ignoring his comment, sliding onto the bar stool next to me and leaning against me as she talked to Corbman.
“Round two, baby!” he exclaimed, clinking bottles with us again and getting a cheer from the room. “Nothing much different. We’ll have a couple days rest, then we’re at it again. You ready?”
“I’d better be!” I said.
Chapter 10 – Malstrak
MALSTRAK HEARD A CLICK when the telestone was connected on the other end of the line. “Great Lord Malstrak, I’ve gained his trust. I’m fully integrated into the team and will continue to gather more information. Soon we’ll have what we need.”
“Good job, Shifter, good job,” Malstrak said, delighted at the news from his inside man. It was a particularly brilliant part of his plan, if he did say so himself. And it was working flawlessly.
Especially since the damned Morsenube user had refused Malstrak’s offer to teach him. Multiple offers. But there were other ways to use the boy’s power. “I heard Jayton Baird won the first round?”
“He did, my lord. He’s more skilled than I first reported. He likely will have a chance to face the Uland, assuming he doesn’t die before then.”
“I’m counting on you to keep that from happening, Shifter,” Malstrak said sternly. “We need him alive – the rest of the plan hinges on it. Thankfully I was able to convince the Lords of the West that security needed tightening and that the fighters shouldn’t be allowed to leave the stadium. That keeps the Ignis Oculus Senturian away from the battlefield, and unable to aid the East Side in defense. The Fire Eyes would turn the tide of the war; he would be able to see right through my strategies and any tactic I use.”
“And if he should die in the tournament?”
“We have contingency plans in place, but this is by far the most preferred. If you succeed, after I’m done with him...I’ll allow you to eat him.”
“Thank you, my lord, thank you! I bet his flesh would taste so sweet, and the power I would gain...”
“Patience, my dear Shifter, patience. There is something I need from him. But if you succeed, you will be rewarded beyond your wildest dreams. Keep doing your job. Make sure he thinks he’s winning, when in actuality he is digging his own grave. Understand?”
“Of course, my lord.”
“Good job. We will be in contact soon.”
The informant hung up the telestone in one of the shadier parts of the Bowl. As he emerged from the booth that housed the telestone, a swirl of colored skin shone briefly in the little illumination offered by the barely functioning street light before fading once again into the shadows.
Malstrak hung up the telestone in one of the nicest parts of the Bowl. A crooked smile lit his face. Little did the Ignis user know how close he was to Malstrak, to his ultimate fate. Those fools on the East Side, they thought they knew his plans. How foolish.
But they would see. They would see.
Malstrak squared his shoulders and walked down the short hallway. As he entered the next room, black cowl and cape flaring behind him dramatically, all the West Side nobles rose. A large circular table and chairs dominated the room, the black marble top so flawless it was adorned with only twelve white marks, right on the edges, in perfect diamonds. The eleven lords stood by each equidistantly spaced diamond, with the last and most ornate chair reserved for Malstrak.
He raised his arms wide in a welcoming gesture and threw back his hood, revealing a handsome yet devilish face, hawk nose with a piece missing on the bridge, black hair buzzed short to show the tattoo of a dragon on top of his head. His smile was impish. “Friends, friends, please sit down. This is a joyous day! Today you will find out your reward for your loyalty, your hard work, and most of all — our shared desire to make a better world.” He paused and grabbed a glass of wine, raising it high. “Today, we divide, and very soon, we conquer!”
Eleven raised glasses answered his own. “Hear, hear!”
Malstrak smiled again. He was tall, seven feet, and by all accounts a heavyweight, although he was athletically built. He had women when he wanted them, but they wouldn’t stick around. They sensed the predator within. It didn’t matter. They only served to fill his purpose, to eliminate the distraction of the need for sex. These physical limitations annoyed him. There was only one thing he really desired. Power. And these lords would help him get it, though they didn’t know the half of the how and why.
“You have been most generous, Malstrak,” Lord Byers said, bowing his head and inclining his glass again. His bald head shone, the few gray hairs he had left hung on the sides, and his overweight frame barely allowed him to move. “We are very excited to be working with you and are impressed with your offer to let us rule the East Side under you. Really, it’s an amazing opportunity for everyone.”
“You’re very welcome,” Malstrak replied. “And yes, I ask for little, and will give quite a bit more back. In return for your loyalty, you may run your respective kingdoms as you wish. I will provide the army to keep the peace. Taxes and payments will be paid in order to maintain the army and police forces in all cities, as well as the final say on disputes, no questions asked. The new council will consist of everyone in this room and will serve as my advisors.”
“So we will sit on the council, but not make decisions? That doesn’t sound like what we talked about,” Lord Edom said, but a quick glance from the others had him backpedaling. He looked more like a weasel than anything – fitting for a coward. “Er, um, what I mean is, we will still have authority over our kingdoms, right, Malstrak?”
The tension grew as Malstrak looked sternly at each of the lords. “That is correct, Edom. If you work with me, there should be no reason for me to interfere. I care not how you run your affairs, as long as you understand where the true power resides and you act accordingly.” He flicked his wrist, and all twelve chairs shot under their occupants, bringing startled gasps from around the room. There could be no lapses in loyalty at this point in the game. Malstrak wanted the power, not the bureaucratic bullshit that came with ruling. There was so much more he could use the time for. So much more to do...so much more...
“Master, you have the map?” Lord Pampa said, with more respect in his voice than the others. Now here was a warrior who had to claw his way up the food chain. He had the scars to prove it. They were all over his face and hands – marks from blades of now vanquished foes. Still, in his mid-thirties, he looked young despite the full beard.
Malstrak shook himself out of his train of thought. “Yes, yes, I do. Here is how the land currently sits on the East Side.” Malstrak waved his hand and an image appeared in the center of the black
table, white light bending and shaping Terraunum as they watched. Different colored lines crossed the East Side, revealing their current territories marked with the symbols of the races. “Gentlemen, I give you the new world order!” With another wave of his hand, the colored lines faded, and new ones appeared, outlining the new kingdoms on the East, each marked with the symbol of a Lord of the West.
“Master, you are most generous,” Lord Hawkins squawked.
“It’s beautiful!” said Lord Beasley.
“Indeed, gentlemen. I trust you find the division fair?” Malstrak stared at each face until he got a nod of agreement. “Good. Once the Senturians are conquered at the Breaks and the Elves are smashed, my army will systematically remove each of the ruling powers and demand their surrender. If they fail to do so, my army will crush whatever is left of their defenses, and we will take possession of the lands. Is that clear?”
Everyone nodded. Malstrak smiled and raised his glass again. “To the future!”
Chapter 11 – Morgan Keller
MORGAN HAD DRUNK A little too much in Corbman’s room the night before, and the morning had been a rough one. Damn red wine. But after a nap and some hydration, plus using her inner fire to burn through the impurities in her system, Morgan was feeling refreshed and ready to kick some tail.
Though she didn’t know how she’d do that exactly while stuck on bodyguard duty, which really was a lot of sitting around. Especially in Jayton’s cramped room, despite the expansion after his round one win. The whole squad was gathered, per Royn’s instructions. Where was the Ranger anyway?
On cue, their leader burst through the door of the room, all eyes turning to him. “All right everyone, I’ll be going back to both the Wall and to the Elves to help with the fighting. I can take one person with me.”
“How are you going to do that, Royn?” Euless asked. “I thought you needed a good visual on where you are going to teleport. Won’t the battlefield be changing all the time?”
Royn nodded. “Normally you’d be right, Euless, but Ames and I have set up Jump Points specifically for this – hexagonal rooms that all look identical, with the only change being a big red number painted on one wall. Gives me a place to jump to rather easily. All I need is for our handler, Heath, to tell me the jump point number.”
Jayton piped up. “Sounds great. When do we leave?”
Royn eyed Jayton. “What do you mean ‘we’? You’re staying right here. Ankle bracelets, your value at the tournament, et cetera?”
Jayton rolled his eyes. “Oh yeah. Sorry. Just sucks I can’t go since the Fire Eyes would be so useful.”
Royn nodded. “Yup, exactly. Okay, moving on. Leona, have you been practicing using your Guide Power?”
Leona nodded. “Of course, sir.”
“Excellent. Now let’s put it to good use – power up and tell me who would be the best person to take with me to the Wall.”
Morgan watched as Leona nodded, closed her eyes and drew in power. After a few seconds of deep concentration, the dirty-blond-haired human nodded at Royn.
“Leona, who should I take to the wall with me?” Royn asked.
Instantly Leona said, “Morgan and Euless.”
Leona collapsed to one knee, and Jayton and Josey both rushed to her side with purple energy covering their hands, but she shrugged them off and stood.
Royn said, “Thank you, Leona, but if you remember, I can only take one person this far.”
She nodded. “I remember, Royn, but you forgot about my Amplify Quantum. I’ve been working with it, like you said, and I’ve figured out another way to use it.” Pulling on her power again, she sent blue energy down her arms and held it in her palms. Walking over to Royn, she slammed them against his chest, and he was rocked backwards. “You have two hours. After that, you’ll have to wait to go back and get one of them.”
Leona’s eyes grew distant, she wobbled slightly and fainted. Troup and Celeste caught her and took her to the couch, where Jayton and Josey got back to work on her.
Morgan didn’t worry, Leona would be fine. And this meant Morgan actually got to fight, to do what she was trained for! Royn asked Josey if Leona would be all right, and when the Elf nodded, he looked at Morgan and Euless.
“Are you guys ready?” Royn asked.
“Hell yeah. Let’s do this!” Morgan grinned — stepping up to Royn’s left side and grabbing his outstretched hand while Euless did the same on his right.
The world turned blue and compressed against Morgan, and two seconds later, they appeared in a gray hexagonal room with the number four painted on the wall directly in front of them.
Royn grinned. “All right, let’s see where we can do some damage.”
He turned around, so Morgan and Euless did the same and followed him toward a simple wooden door built into the back wall of the jump point. They stepped out and walked down some stairs. Morgan turned around to look at the jump point, but it was literally a thrown-together wooden structure that wasn’t very sturdy – clearly meant to be temporary.
A roar behind her brought Morgan back to the moment, and she looked at the back side of the eleventh defensive ring, according to the number that was written along the base of the battlements at equidistant intervals along the entire wood and metal wall. It was a simple design: a flat wall reaching straight up out of the prairie floor with small ports for firing into the enemy. An enemy that was currently attacking it, judging by the sound. Fifteen feet up, a platform ran across its length where Senturians fired powers, arrows, and assorted projectiles into the army that was clearly just on the other side.
Unable to quell her curiosity, Morgan looked behind her at what was the tenth defensive ring, and saw the exact same structure, except on the side facing her, there were wooden and metal spikes protruding at different angles and levels, clearly intended to keep intruders off the structure if they managed to break through the eleventh ring.
In her ear, Heath Goodrich, their handler, spoke through their amplistone. “Royn, Euless, Morgan – you’re needed along the battlements of the eleventh ring. We’re in the process of getting overrun. Engage targets as you find them; help where needed.”
Euless immediately burst into action, darting to the stairs in front of them, then along the top of the wall, grabbing a sword on his way, blasting and slicing orcs, ogres, and humans who tried to scale the walls. He was an elegant fighter, a wave of pure motion and destruction weaving in and out of their allies and doing damage along the entire wall.
Royn disappeared in a burst of blue, only to reappear further down the line, then teleported again, going where help was needed most.
Morgan wasn’t about to miss any of the fun. She hurried to catch up, pulling power into herself as she ran, adrenaline coursing through her as her focus narrowed. She ignored the screams and roars all around her, the slightly metallic smell of blood and the odor of those attacking the defenders.
Taking the steps two at a time, she arrived at the edge of the battlements at the same time a troll stuck its head above the railing. With pinpoint precision, she thrust her hand forward, a concentrated stream of fire the size of her pinky finger shot from the palm of her hand, smacking the troll right in the mouth and exiting through the back of the skull – one of only two weak points – and sending the creature crashing back down into the fray of creatures below it.
A green Aeren beside her said, “Nice shot.” He turned and sent a blast of air into an oncoming set of goblins.
Morgan went into action – apparently the only Phoenix in the area – and sent fireball after fireball barreling into the enemy, burning them to a crisp when they were too close and setting them on fire when farther away. She was able to clear her area, keeping the creatures at a distance so the other ranged Senturian attackers could pick off the enemy with deadly efficiency.
Suddenly a spear appeared through the haze of battle, flying through the air directly at Morgan. She sent a fireball at it, but it didn’t change direction at all, and the ar
cing blade struck her in the exposed left side of her abdomen. Of course I forgot to grab battle armor before we left the Bowl! She gasped for breath and found her lungs clear – a good sign – but the pain was unimaginable as she fell backwards off the battlements. If that spear didn’t kill her, the fall would. She kept pressure on the wound with her hands hoping that would be enough to save her.
Euless appeared out of nowhere, sweeping through the air and catching the falling Phoenix mid-drop as the battle raged around them. He landed deftly and continued his path for a few steps before he set her down.
Quickly, he examined the wound. “Are you all right?”
“Hell no I’m not bloody all right. I got stabbed by damn spear!” Morgan said, removing her hand so he could get a better look.
“We need Elves for this.”
A Dwarf suddenly appeared at their side. “I know where the Elves’ tents are. I’ll help you get her to them. Let’s go, Manu,” he said, putting Morgan’s weight onto his broad shoulders and allowing Euless to carry her other side – her wounded side – gently.
Every step burned like fire on her side, but Morgan barely let it show on her face. “I thought I was a goner. What’s your name, Dwarf?” Morgan asked, gasping for breath and clutching her side.
The trio approached the gate to the tenth defensive ring. “Name’s Slate Bloodtide. And I don’t think you’re out of the woods yet there, lassie.” Euless stopped once they crossed the small but thick door that functioned as a gate, but Slate Bloodtide shook his head, “Just got word that the eleventh ring is about to fall. Better go ahead and get her behind the ninth, just in case. The tenth ring isn’t that secure, it was one of those we slapped together at the last minute.”
“What’s the deal with the rings anyway?” Morgan asked with a gasp, her side throbbing. “Wouldn’t the Wall be good enough to protect the East Side all by itself? Couldn’t we just sit up top and pick off the invaders?”
Slate laughed. “You’re not the first person to ask that, lassie. I don’t know this for a fact, mind you, but my guess is that once Ames Talco was named the replacement general and put in command of the defense of the Wall, he wanted to keep the enemy off it as much as possible. It gives us a chance to thin their ranks before they even get to our best defensive position. Again, this is my guess, but I think Ames figures Malstrak is up to something, so he didn't want to give him a chance at the Wall. I think Ames Talco suspects Malstrak will try to bring down the Wall. Either way, if we delay Malstrak from getting to the Wall Gate, the only weak point along the whole thing, maybe we can buy enough time to figure out his plan and stop him.” Slate shrugged. “But I’m just a Dwarf, ma’am.”
