by C E Johnson
The goblin at the head of the small squad made eye-contact with Iscar and scurried to greet him. “Master, we brought you your magestones.” The goblin’s voice was harsh, sounding more like an animal growl than words. “We brought all the dwarves would sell us.”
“Shall I bring it to you, sir?” the Ogre grunted. Iscar nodded, impressed that the behemoth retained so much of his strength on Earth.
“Get moving. Show your master the treasure!” Marcus directed the ogre and his helpers to place the box before Iscar. The half-deads glared at Marcus, but they dutifully walked forward as several shades brought an oaken trestle table forward. The creatures set the box on the structure and the table groaned in protest.
Using more and more half-deads is a wonderful idea. Although still initially weaker on Earth than on Acacia, they’re nowhere near as incapacitated as magicians upon crossing through the portal, Tengu whispered.
The half-deads also rebound quickly. They don’t need the ‘dark-rejuvenators’ to continually cast healing spells to keep them operational, Iscar added.
“It’s finally across,” Marcus moved to stand next to Iscar, “I can’t believe it.” He wore a heavy wool cloak that flowed behind him in the cold breeze.
“It’s finally across.” Iscar echoed. He ran his hand slowly along the carefully sculpted wood chest, every inch covered with images of weapons, horses, and knights. Even on Earth the multicolored auras from the treasure within permeated the wood. It was unable to hide the unmistakable power.
I’ve never seen such auras on Earth, Tengu whispered. The vibrant hues leapt into Iscar’s vision, twirling in rich colors.
“It was magically sealed according to your specifications,” the ogre rasped. “I can’t open it.”
“Of course, you can’t, you idiot.” Marcus rolled his eyes in disgust, ignoring the ogre’s grumbling.
“Let’s look at the treasure.” Iscar spoke his magical word of opening and slid back the lid. “By the dragons,” he gasped. Tengu fully unfurled his wings and dropped from his upside-down position. This was his own bat-method of launching himself into the air. Once he had gained momentum, he began flapping his wings, moving himself just far enough to land heavily on the corner of the coffin-like box. Together they peered at the magestones.
“We hoped to fill it,” the goblin leader elbowed his way forward, “but these stones are challenging to buy and nearly impossible to find.” He spoke haltingly, spitting out the words like bitter phlegm.
This goblin can barely speak, and he reeks of death, blood, and anger, Tengu whispered.
Iscar studied the goblin. Although he stinks, he does serve a purpose for our mission. He looked back into the box and ran a hand through the cache, exposing several blackstones. Drogor wanted him to send blackstones to a blossoming earthly black magician named Malachi.
“I never thought I’d see this many magestones in one place.” Marcus’ eyes were as wide as saucers.
Iscar swirled his hand through the contents, feeling tremendous currents of magus sweep through his body. Each magestone that his fingers brushed against whispered secrets to Iscar, revealing capacities of power to his flesh. Incredible, he spoke to Tengu admiring their ancient strength and forceful intensity.
Are any part of a magestone set? Tengu leaned closer to the stones, extending his neck with its rim of dark fur that extended across his back and shoulders.
Iscar scanned the stones thoughtfully with a practiced eye. He pulled out two stones and showed them to Marcus. “Amazingly, out of all of these stones, only this redstone and this bluestone are a part of a magestone set.” He could barely begin forming a complete set of six magestones from this batch.
“Sorry, sir,” the goblin grunted.
“No worries.” Iscar slapped the goblin on the back. “Our goal wasn’t to form a magestone set, only to further disrupt this dragon-forsaken planet.” He put the two stones in his pocket.
“Will we launch our offensive soon?” The goblin had an eager expression on his misshapen face.
“Watch yourself, goblin. You’re not on the planning council,” Marcus spoke in a menacing tone. Forming an irritated grimace, his mouth twisted with distaste for the goblin.
“It’s fine,” Iscar inclined his head to Marcus before addressing all the creatures present. “I’m putting together the final pieces and soon you’ll all be able to taste something new on this planet.” Iscar picked up a goldstone and bounced it in his hand. “With the help of these magestones, more magicians are sprouting up every day, and you’ll be able to gain more energy as you suck the magus of many newly minted magicians.”
“Our half-deads will sweep over this planet.” The goblin began to laugh, and his comrades chortled along with him in an eerie fashion which sounded like shards of glass scraping against steel.
“Half-deads are good warriors.” Iscar went to stand next to Ullr while gesturing toward the vampires, goblins, and ogre. “Your kind will do the bulk of the fighting. Earthlings will be so scared of you they’ll have difficulty putting up much of a struggle.” Iscar looked out over the mountains of Mexico from his lofty vantage point.
“And then they will come?” grunted the ogre, his mouth set in a hard line while he waited for Iscar to answer.
Iscar glanced at the ogre in surprise. He didn’t think the brute had fully understood the master plan. “And then they will come from Acacia,” Iscar said quietly while giving the ogre a wink. “And the final battle will occur.” His voice was breaking with excitement.
“Where should I put the stones?” The Ogre picked up the lid for the box and waited expectantly.
“Let me choose a few stones out of there. Then I want you to attach them to the underside of the transport helicopter. We’ll fly them out in the next few days.” Iscar began to sort through the stones. “Goblins, get some rest. You can go see your comrades in the mountain.”
The goblins realized their brief job of guarding the magestones was over. They bowed and began to depart, leaving the ogre to do the hard labor. They marched together toward the passage leading into the mountainside, laughing and talking in their raspy voices. Earth will never be the same once these half-deads spread across the land, Iscar thought to himself.
All of your father’s plans and Drogor’s theories are working to perfection, Tengu whispered, turning his large dark eyes from the stones to face Iscar.
Perhaps one day soon Drogor will be ready to come across from Ater to witness our success, Iscar thought back. Tengu flew back to his perch. Iscar selected several more blackstones, examining each one and speaking words of magic to observe the response of the magestones to his testing spells. Iscar worked for several hours while the ogre sat next to him patient and unmoving. The shades and vampires were also still as statues, with only Marcus Tate fidgeting uncomfortably, appearing indecisive over whether to stay with the half-deads or to leave. Iscar ignored Marcus’ discomfort. Once he had selected eleven of the blackstones from the chest, he nodded to the ogre who arose and closed the lid.
“Aren’t you gonna use your magic to lock the box?” The ogre lifted the chest, his fingers blanching under the weight within.
“No,” Iscar gave a scoffing laugh, “if a thief can make it to my mountain-top with all my half-dead guards around, they deserve these stones.” The ogre scowled, obviously disapproving of Iscar’s choice, but he heaved the chest up from the table and lumbered toward the helicopter. Ullr stood at attention several steps away from Iscar, his face stoic. “Always looking out for me, aren’t you?” Iscar spoke quietly to his shade who stood like a chiseled statue, silent and formidable.
“Your father wanted me to watch over you.” Ullr’s skin shone a satiny silver in the moonlight.
“I’m tired from the magus expended from sorting through these stones.” Iscar leaned against the stone table with a weary, but satisfied smile. His head was throbbing in rhythm with his heart and he knew he needed to rest.
Use the power from the greenston
es, Tengu urged, gesturing toward the departing stones with a wing.
“Ogre, throw me a few greenstones,” Iscar called. The ogre set down the box, opened the lid, pulled out two greenstones, and tossed them to Iscar, who used their power to potentiate a healing spell. He smiled as he felt the magus-replenishment flood into his mind.
“Shall we retire?” Ullr asked.
“First, I need the strongest wyvern we have.” Iscar placed his eleven blackstones on the table while Ullr strode away. Each stone was a similar size, and each had a similar underlying power. The blackstones would easily be strong enough to take their user on a visit to the spirit world of Ater.
Incoming wyvern, Tengu alerted Iscar. The approaching large, leathery-winged creature looked like a cross between a small dragon and a large lizard. It had a sagging frill hanging from its neck, connected by bone and cartilage to its jaw, looking like a loose layer of skin and scales flapping in the wind. The wyvern was a deep, blood orange in the dark. It landed next to Iscar with its small scales glinting in the moonlight.
Marcus impatiently approached the beast, and the wyvern turned in his direction, flashing sharp teeth to show its irritation at his presence. Marcus ignored the creature’s disrespect and pointed at its chest, “Ullr has sent us a moody half-dead.”
Iscar smiled. He placed the blackstones in a black leather pouch that he tied around the neck of the wyvern. “I need you to fly this to our safe-house in Washington D.C. I’ll dream-link with them to give further instructions.”
“As you command,” the beast inclined its head while rasping out rough words.
Iscar continued, “Fly only at night. I don’t want anyone to see you. Stay hidden unless you’re attacked.” The creature spread its leathery wings and caught the next gust of wind, merging with the dark shadows.
“It’s good to see magic flowing into this foul world.” Marcus studied the departing wyvern. “Perhaps one day I’ll even be able to endure on this planet without the urge to retch each morning.”
“I think you’re going to like what we’re creating.” Iscar still felt weary and he leaned further on the sturdy table. “My plans are in rapid motion, but I need to fully recharge for my next stage. I’ll be heading back to the Middle East.”
“With the stones?” Marcus raised one eyebrow.
“No.” Iscar shook his head. “I want to put you in charge of the stones. Have our pilot fly these stones to our hangar at the Hermanos Serdan airport. I’ll send you the full details on how they’ll be distributed.” He rubbed his temples, wishing he could rub away his growing headache. “Marcus, send me Brytam.”
“Of course.” A frown formed on Marcus’ brow and he rocked angrily on his heels. “I’ll remain ready for your further orders.” Marcus inclined his head toward Iscar in a small bow before departing.
I sometimes wonder if he loves Brytam more than you, Tengu whispered.
Brytam is alluring and brilliant, a dangerous combination that will bend most men to her will. Iscar felt dizzy as he thought about Brytam, the magestones, and all he needed to accomplish. Thankfully the magestones are across and everything is going according to plan, Iscar thought to himself. I’m glad my stones have arrived.
Now you can focus on your other weapons. Tengu flexed his foot that was holding on to his perch, and he wrapped his leathery wings tighter around his body.
Time to fully change this world, Iscar thought back with pride.
A female magician with an aura white as snow emerged from the main mountain passageway and stormed forcefully toward Iscar. “Finally, you call for me.” Although her gait suggested she was angry, her voice was light and teasing.
Iscar smiled as she approached. Sometimes she pouts like a young child, he thought warmly to himself. “I wanted to wait until we could be alone … you know how jealous Marcus gets.” Brytam was dressed in a cloth-of-silver gown that rippled in the wind, with ivory silk and touches of lace on the sleeves and by her neck. Her attire was inappropriate for the cold breeze at the top of the mountain, but Iscar was impressed that she had dressed up for him, every one of her curves sparkling in the moonlight.
“I hear through the grapevine that I’m needed to coordinate your magus-recharge,” she whispered in a sultry manner as she stopped in front of him, putting her hands on her hips. Lightly dancing on her shoulders in the breeze, her black hair was like polished obsidian, giving a deep luster in the moonlight. She had a quiet confidence about her that added to her appeal.
“You leave me breathless,” Iscar murmured. He trailed the fingers of each hand lightly over her cheeks, moving his hands down to her neck.
“And I thought you wanted to talk about my plans for our initial attack on Earth,” Brytam laughed in a taunting tone.
Iscar kissed her, barely letting their lips touch, enjoying how soft she was. He wished they were on Acacia, where his senses could run wild. He reached out a hand to stroke down the skin on her exposed arm along her smooth, tanned skin. He ran a finger of his other hand along her perfectly arched brows that framed her large brown eyes as innocent as a doe, with their white flecks swirling around her pupil like planets circling a dark sun. She shook her hair in a wondrous motion, moving one hand through her thick mane to shift her part to a new position. “I don’t really want to talk about war right now,” Iscar felt his heart hammering in his chest.
Brytam pulled her mouth into a delicate pout. “I want off this repulsive planet as fast as possible, so let’s stay focused on our task so we can have some quality time together on Acacia.” She gave him a devious wink.
Iscar found himself mesmerized by her expressive full lips. “You’re right. Tell me what I need to know.” He found his eyes drawn to her neck, where she was wearing strands of tiny diamonds and gold.
“Your missiles have been coupled to their payloads,” she began. “They’ve been placed on their cargo ships and they’re sequentially moving to the desired locations. You own the ships, and the captains of the barges are all magicians brought over from Acacia. Each has given you their dragon-oath.”
Thank goodness for dragon oaths, Iscar thought to himself. At least there’s a reason to trust these men.
Never trust anyone, Tengu warned. Although there are no double agents or traitors out of the captains of the missile ships, the crews are not fully accounted for.
“The captains will unleash their missiles upon your dream-linked signal,” Brytam continued.
“You’ve done an impressive job,” Iscar said. “I really don’t deserve you.”
“You really don’t,” Brytam said with a coy smile. “I’m heading out now on one of our transport helicopters to prepare your way. You’ll follow on another helicopter tomorrow after your business here is finished.”
“You just missed seeing a beautiful wyvern take flight,” Iscar said in a low voice. His hands fell to her hips, tracing the rippling and swirling patterns on her smooth dress.
“You know I love those creatures.” Iscar could hear the disappointment evident in her tone. “You should have waited for me.”
“I’ll give you an army of wyverns in the future,” he promised.
Brytam leaned in to give him a longer kiss. Iscar felt electricity flow from their contact, rushing through his body, nearly overwhelming his mind. He closed his eyes in an attempt to retain some semblance of order in her presence. Brytam smiled, obviously proud of the effect she had on him.
A red magician, Milo, came running out of the passage. “Brytam, we need to go if we’re going to make your flight.” He ran to a helicopter and the blades began to slap as they gained speed before thrumming into a smooth rhythm.
“Don’t my troops know when I’m in the middle of something?” Iscar tried to force a laugh, but he was frustrated. He wanted more time with Brytam. “I need to teach them more respect.”
“I’ll see you soon.” Brytam’s voice was husky and sensuous, full of promises. “The rejuvenators are ready for you in the mountain.” Iscar reluctantly
let her go and the whirling machine carrying Brytam flew off into the night, following in the direction that his wyvern had taken.
C H A P T E R 1 5
The Elves
Emily and her Earth friends set down their weapons and supplies on a massive ironwood trestle table near the kitchen in the Castle Cave while gazing in wonder at a masterpiece of mouth-watering breakfast before them. “Have some food,” Dr. D said as he set down a stack of pancakes and waffles. Their sweet smell was almost overpowering. “I got up early to gather from the gardens and orchards. Thankfully I have workers coming out here monthly, keeping this place in some sort of order.”
“Impressive.” Isabelle flashed Emily a contented grin. There were silver platters of fruit piled artfully with raspberries, blackberries, and blueberries. Wonderful scents were arising from steaming assortments of bacon and meats, and there was sweet bread sprinkled generously with sugar and cinnamon. Pastries were dripping with icing, fragrant with baked peaches and apples. On the kitchen counters sat wheels of orange cheese and fresh biscuits.
“Another reason I love Acacia,” Luke murmured while going straight for the largest waffle first which he doused in a thick syrup. They ate in silence for a time, marveling at their heightened sense of taste.
Dr. D was the first to move from the food side of the table to study their assembled weapons. “We should tune these.” He picked up Emily’s black bow and ran his hand along the carvings on Storm’s frame while quietly mouthing a spell to strengthen the bowstrings.
“I can see a strong flash of blue,” Elizabeth gushed. “I’m beginning to see much more than just a faint glow of magic.” Her pale blonde hair was in a crown braid with her locks parted in the middle and split into two even sections with long strands falling down to frame her face.
“I performed an enchantment, to strengthen the strings,” Dr. D explained. “I think these bows are going to get some serious use in the forest.” His expression was solemn.
Emily stood and went to his side to help him. The two sequentially pulled out each of the other bows, and cast the same spell on the bowstrings and upon Luke’s crossbow strings. “What do you think of the swords?” she asked her father as they turned their attention to the glittering steel of Anna, Isabelle, and Elizabeth’s weapons.
