The Battle Mage (The Age of Oracles Book 3)

by Ben Hale

  There was a moment’s silence, and then Astin spoke to the captains. “If you decide to remain with the rebellion, meet us at the ravine south of the camp at midnight. Bring only those you believe to be the most loyal. Those you doubt, place an officer to watch over them and leave them here.”

  Devkin nodded. “Those that do not defect to the Empire will likely be captured, but we cannot risk any who might turn on us.”

  “As you order,” Shalric said.

  He scowled and strode away, and one by one the others departed. Alydian couldn’t tell if they were furious at her plan or their situation. She wouldn’t find out who truly supported her until midnight. With a sigh she turned to Devkin.

  “Did you load my pack?”

  He hefted a bag and tossed it to her. She caught it and together they slipped through the camp. Empty tent flaps fluttered in the breeze, the fading light reflecting off discarded blades. It had rained the previous day and water muddied the earth. Alydian picked her way through the wreckage and tried not to shudder at the eerie stillness.

  A handful of soldiers huddled around campfires. Most showed signs of the plague, expressions twisted with anger as they wrestled with the plague’s affects. She kept her cowl over her features, feeling like a stranger among friends. As night settled on the forsaken camp the occasional soldier succumbed to the plague, and sullenly slipped away.

  Those that remained were haggard and terrified, unable to fight the enemy coursing in their veins. They spoke little and sat in despair, staring into the crackling flames of their cooking fires. The wind whistled through the empty camp, causing them to wrap themselves tighter in their cloaks.

  “I hate her,” Alydian said.

  Devkin did not have to ask who Alydian was referring to. “Teriah has not defeated us yet,” he murmured.

  I could stop this, whisper said. With me you can control the magic of loyalty . . .

  She swallowed and fought to resist, but the sinister voice spoke the truth. She focused on the camp but that was a mistake, and everywhere she looked, she saw what the plague had caused. What Teriah had inflicted upon good people.

  “I could end the plague, you know,” Alydian said softly. “The magic of rage would give me the power of loyalty, and I could dispel the curse.”

  “And then what?” Devkin asked. “The magic of rage would consume you.”

  “You stopped me last time,” she said. “You can stop me again.”

  He caught her shoulder, bringing her to a halt so he could meet her gaze. “I saw the look in your eye when I called your name,” he said. In the dim light his features were urgent, almost desperate. “I saw the craving for blood. Do you really believe you can emerge victorious a second time?”

  Alydian motioned to the rows of empty tents. “I want to stop her,” she said. “And I have the power to do so.”

  “Power is addictive,” he said, his piercing eyes boring into hers. “A fact your mother understood. You stopped the first use but the second will be much harder, and that’s when it turns into a craving. In its thrall, you would see those affected by the plague as traitors, and you’d seek to punish them. How many would die at your hand? How much blood would you spill?”

  Alydian shuddered, the all too vivid picture a clear prophecy of what would occur. As much as Alydian wanted to defeat Teriah, Devkin was right. Releasing the magic of rage a second time would destroy far more than her foes.

  She groaned and shoved whisper back to its corner, fighting to suppress the burgeoning rage as she resumed her path. In silence, Devkin followed. For the next several minutes they trudged their way through the empty camp until they reached the ravine.

  As midnight approached Alydian’s fear rose. What if none came? What if she and Devkin were alone? It was disturbing how familiar the sentiment was, and she recalled the solitude of her prison cell.

  Facing hatred on all sides, Alydian and Devkin would not last long. And then the moment would come that Teriah had prophesied, and she would die knowing she’d failed everyone. She shivered and watched the stars, praying her allies would come.

  And they did.

  By ones and twos they arrived, each nodding to her as they appeared in the darkness. Humans, dwarves, elves, rock trolls, and azure, they all came. Marked by scars and fine blades, they were warriors of the highest order, all dedicated to Alydian and her effort to free the people from the Empire. Astin and Ora arrived with General Shalric. Then, surprisingly, the Demon Dwarf sauntered into the camp and grunted at the assembly.

  “The best fights come when you are outnumbered,” he said.

  Shalric glowered at the mercenary dwarf. “Only you would be excited at the odds we face.”

  Her throat tight with emotion, Alydian scanned the five hundred loyalists willing to trust her, without a destination, without a plan, and with the world against them. Her throat tight with emotion, she nodded her gratitude.

  “It is imperative that we are not discovered,” she said. “From this point on I will shield our force from my oracle sisters. Stay quiet, stay hidden, and no lights at night. We can’t afford to be spotted.”

  “We stand with you,” Astin said with a curt nod. “Take us to victory.”

  Despite the circumstances Alydian smiled at the man’s simple faith. Then she inclined her head and turned away, leading the group into the night. She imagined fleeing into the Evermist, giving Teriah a false destination in order to hide her true design.

  Her destination constantly changing, she walked with Devkin at her side and plunged into the Sea of Grass. The tall fronds rose to shoulder height, effectively obscuring them from any scrutiny. Beneath a star-filled sky the vestiges of the rebellion departed Herosian.

  Alydian spent the time pondering their next move. The refuge she wanted would be futile if Teriah decided to bring her massive army upon them. Both Raiden and Elenyr were seeking the truth in different areas and she trusted them. Still, what could she do if their efforts came to naught?

  You can always use me.

  I will never use you again, Alydian vowed.

  Her mental words were so forceful that whisper scowled and withdrew, leaving her in peace. She smiled, realizing that for the first time since her escape, she accepted what she’d done. Regret would forever haunt her, but Devkin and her mother were right that Alydian had done what was necessary to escape.

  She oddly felt confident, as if the future that lay before them was bright rather than bleak. Devkin drifted closer to her as they walked, and lowered his tone so only she could hear.

  “Is that a smile I see?”

  “Perhaps,” Alydian admitted.

  “I expected despair rather than hope,” Devkin said.

  Alydian glanced back at the small force that remained. They strode through the Sea of Grass, their heads bowed, their murmured voiced tense and worried. After all they had lost she knew she should feel the same, yet something about their immediate future lent itself to hope.

  “Let’s just say I have an idea,” Alydian said.

  “Does it have anything to do with our destination?”

  “Perhaps,” Alydian said.

  Devkin glanced eastward and smiled, indicating he knew exactly where they were going. His expression was curious but he did not attempt to glean more from Alydian.

  The days bled together into a haze of tension. They marched at night and slept during the day, using the tall grass for cover. Alydian expected her small army to question her, but not once did they ask. Instead they spoke of friends fallen to the curse and speculated as to how the titans were built.

  Several days after departing Herosian, Alydian made her final turn. The Sea of Grass gave way to hills and trees, and the forest of Orláknia. They slowed and dodged elven cities until an hour before dawn. Then they crested an escarpment and the trees parted, revealing their destination.

  Dawnskeep.

  Astin hurried to her side. “You want us to hide in the very fortress of the oracles?”

  �
��It’s not their home anymore,” Alydian said.

  “True,” Astin said, his tone doubtful, “but it lies in the heart of the Empire.”

  “And it’s the last place they would look,” Alydian said.

  As they approached the city it became clear why. Once a hive of business and political commerce, the city of Horizon lay abandoned. The fall of the massive tower had sent a shockwave through the city, leaving most of the buildings unstable. Some of the Verinai structures remained intact but they bore cracks from foundation to roof. Even on the opposite side of the city from the fallen tower, the structures did not appear sound.

  Streets were broken up where the earth had heaved upon the tower’s impact. The fortress walls were rent and broken, two of the gaping holes from Alydian’s dragons, another where the tower had fallen. Dirt and rubble lay everywhere, lending a disturbing hollowness to the once mighty city.

  Alydian felt the many eyes on her back as they advanced through the ruins, and caught the whispers of shock as all bore witness to the destruction she’d wrought. Alydian still felt guilt, but this time she saw the devastation as a consequence of Teriah’s cage rather than her own escape.

  They reached Dawnskeep and picked their way through the shattered gate and under the mangled portcullis. Making her way to the stump of the tower, Alydian shifted rubble to reach the stairs. Then she descended into darkness.

  Occasional light orbs flickered in the dark, beaming across dusty hallways. A moment later she reached the great doors leading to the Runeguard training hall and pushed her way into the interior.

  Cavernous and open, the space had once trained the greatest of soldiers. At the center of the chamber the Requiem trees remained intact, but their limbs were dark. Nestled in their branches, the spheres that permitted one to train in memory were equally as dim. At one side of the room an enormous hole passed below and above, the avenue of her escape.

  She turned to those who had chosen to follow her. “For the time being we’ll be safe here.”

  “Are you sure it’s stable?” Astin asked, his eyes on the ceiling.

  “Aye,” Shalric said, eyeing the stone. “These walls have a few years yet.”

  The dwarf’s confidence calmed the others and they spread out to set up camp. As they drifted away Alydian’s eyes were drawn to the Requiems. They were built to allow a soldier to fight in the memories of past conflicts and wars, permitting one to study without fear of death. They were the pinnacle of training, but as Alydian looked to them she considered her idea.

  Could they do more?

  Chapter 32: Underwater

  “You have our gratitude.”

  Raiden inclined his head to the real owner of the Willowbrook tavern. Short and portly, he’d lost weight in his months in captivity, leaving dark bags under his eyes. His clothes hung on his form, limp and wrinkled.

  “You cannot stay here,” Raiden said. “If Elsin returns . . .”

  “We will find a new home,” he said, and gestured to the boats. “There’s an island off the coast where we can seek refuge.”

  It was a temporary refuge and they both knew it. But the conclusion of the war would determine the fate of the villagers. If the Empire proved the victor, Elsin would quietly eliminate the villagers before tales of her actions could spread.

  Red joined them on the docks and smiled to the man. “Your wife is lovely.” She gestured to the woman standing at the boat, holding an infant in her arms.

  “She kept me from losing hope,” he said, his eyes softening.

  “A beloved tends to do that,” Jester called with a laugh.

  He shared a smile with Red and strode to the ship to help load supplies. Raiden helped the last of the villagers onto the overcrowded fishing vessels and then signaled the Verinai. A moment later flames licked their way to the buildings. The charms were specific, and attached to the buildings so as to not spread to the forest. As the fire hungrily devoured the village, Raiden brought his friends onto the last fishing boat and set sail, leaving a plume of smoke on the shore.

  Raiden watched the fire for several moments and then turned away. The fishing vessel was small, hardly enough to fit them all, and Raiden squeezed his way to the Red Hand. One of the Verinai had healed him, but he would limp for the rest of his life. His face betrayed his hatred, but when Marrow was around it shifted to fear.

  “Tell me what you know,” Raiden said.

  He sneered at Raiden and his eyes flicked to Marrow, who sat on the front of the ship, her feet dangling over the prow. He twitched when she glanced his way, her eyes lighting with amusement.

  “Elsin gave us a choice—work for her, or go to the noose.”

  “You deserved the noose,” Red said with a snort.

  “No more than you,” he retorted.

  “You killed merchants and farmers,” Red said, her voice gaining an edge. “You exploited a conflict for coin.”

  “A conflict you started,” he growled, “by killing hundreds of Verinai.”

  “They deserved it,” she snapped.

  “Enough,” Raiden said, “We need to know about Elsin.”

  “She’s worse than a reaver,” the Red Hand said. “One of my band tried to escape and she forced us to kill him.”

  “I would kill you for free,” Red said.

  “Red!” Raiden said.

  She scowled and moved to the other side of the boat, and the Red Hand snorted. “You attract those with a brutal nature,” he said. “Do you find that disturbing?”

  Raiden didn’t take the bait. “What happened after you accepted her offer?”

  “She took us to the village.” He used his chin to point to the burning shoreline. “She shackled the villagers and made us take their place, even building the caverns to hide them beneath the earth. Shortly after, she and Teriah brought another mage through the village.”

  “You saw him?”

  “They came in the dead of night and kept him covered, and only I was permitted to know about their arrival.”

  “She took a boat?”

  He shook his head. “They walked into the sea and disappeared. The next night Teriah returned, alone.”

  Winter frowned. “A strong enough water mage can breathe underwater indefinitely. I wager he built himself an outpost beneath the sea.”

  “What about food?” Raiden asked.

  The Red Hand nodded. “I was required to place crates of supplies on the beach at night, and they were gone by morning. He never appeared.”

  Raiden stood and turned to Winter. “Eight months is a long time. Think he’s down there?”

  “With magic to speed their passage, they could have gone miles. It’s the perfect spot to hide.”

  Jester joined them. “An underwater boat came to Skykeep,” he said. “Perhaps it was Master Skerl’s.”

  “A fair guess,” Raiden mused. “But can we find it?”

  “I think so,” Winter said, and summoned the Verinai with water magic.

  Lorth and another Verinai made their way to the front of the ship and cast water entities that dived into the sea. A short time later they returned and the Verinai dispatched them anew.

  For the rest of the day they sailed in a grid, awaiting the entities’ return. Most spoke in subdued tones, but Raiden remained at the prow of the small vessel, his thoughts shifting between worry for Alydian and irritation at the delay.

  Night did not bring results and Raiden slept fitfully. A splash of water drew him to the railing for each disappointment, and each time he was forced to attempt slumber anew. Dawn came and went and still the entities returned with nothing. Just as they began discussing other options, one failed to appear.

  “What happened?” Winter asked.

  The woman frowned, her eyes on the water. “I’m not sure. I just lost the link.”

  “Could it have run afoul of an underwater beast?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think so. It just . . . disintegrated.”

  “Looks like we found Elsin�
��s secret,” Jester said.

  “About time,” Red grumbled.

  She’d shouldered the brunt of the effort to keep Marrow distracted, and the girl had been bored within minutes of setting sail. But the prospect of action brought her to her feet. Raiden looked to Winter and raised an eyebrow.

  “Can you help us breathe underwater?”

  She nodded and gestured to the pair of Verinai with water magic, but Marrow blew out her breath. “That will take too long. She has a better idea.”

  Raiden felt a sting on his neck and reached up to touch it, but his hand came away bloody. Then the sting turned into agony and he fell to his knees, gripping the sudden wound. He sought to speak but the pain in his throat continued to mount, as if a blade had pierced his jugular. He stumbled to Marrow, but she stood in the midst of writhing bodies, a smile of delight on her face.

  “Marrow!” Red choked. “What have you done?”

  “What was necessary,” she said. “Ready?”

  A chorus of raspy screams sounded negative, but she ignored them and stepped to the center of the ship, striking the wood with her fist and blasting a hole to the sea. Struggling to breathe, to think, to move, Raiden was helpless as they began to sink.

  Water bubbled through the hole, rising to Raiden’s feet, his waist, and then passing over the railing. He was dimly aware of the Red Hand shrieking at Marrow and fleetingly wondered why he was not clutching at his throat like the rest of them. Then the water rose to Raiden’s neck and he fought to swim as the boat plunged into the sea.

  But his feet were bound to the deck, the wood curling up to wrap about his boots. Panic engulfed him as he took a final breath, the air dragging across his burning throat to reach his desperate lungs. His eyes connected with Jester as they slipped underwater and he saw fear in the assassin’s eyes.

  He plunged underwater and fought to hold his breath. He spotted the Verinai struggling to break free of the deck but even Lorth was helpless. Winter and the other water mages fought to call on their magic but it was too late, and blood darkened the water around their throats. Desperation overwhelmed Raiden and he yanked against the wood, the pain in his throat fading as his need for air took precedence.