The scenery changes and the forest is replaced by the hallway outside Kira’s room in Grasdon Manor. Both of them catch their breath when they see the black flags on the rooftops and recognize what part of the past they have traveled to. A trumpeting elephant makes them jump, the animal sounding mournful and sad. They can see servants and funeral guests in the courtyard below, all of them milling about after the services. Timoran and Dariana are easy to spot in the crowd that Kira remembers escaping from as soon as she could. Turning around, the pair stare at the locked doors that muffle the voices within. It takes them a minute to realize that they are translucent, which tempts them to take a peek inside.
“We both know what’s going on in there,” Luke mutters, facing the courtyard again. He catches Kira by the wrist, which stops her from leaving. “I’m still sorry and wish I was stronger like you and Sari. Both of you have gone through this and handled it with a lot more maturity than I’ve done.”
“I tried to kill myself at one point,” Kira reminds him. The casual mention of one of her darkest moments strikes her as odd, which causes her to blush. “Sari is the true master here since she lost everyone and never gave up on surviving. As my father used to say, the two of us crumbled like sandcastles in a tidal wave. I still feel a lot of the pain when I think about what led to this day, but I found a simple fact that keeps me going. Want me to share it with you? Good chance that you can use it too.”
“Okay.”
“One day I’ll make a family with you and I can’t do that unless I’m alive and happy.”
“Not sure I can promise that considering what I’m walking into.”
Kira gives Luke a long kiss before pulling away enough to whisper, “You will come home to me. The Baron may have hurt you, but he didn’t kill you. Nothing on Windemere is capable of doing that, Luke Callindor. Now, stop whining, walk through that portal, and make that monster suffer for what he did to both of us.”
“Was that supposed to be romantic, vengeful, or scary?”
“I’m no longer sure.”
“You managed all three.”
“In that case, I think I earned a kiss that lasts until Xan pulls you back.”
“That could take a while.”
“Just breathe through your nose, Luke.”
*****
Rolling out of the warm bed, Nyx groggily wanders to a bathtub that is releasing aromatic steam. As much as she wants to get in the water, the channeler knows that she has been letting herself get distracted for too long. She neatly folds her nightgown and places it in her pouch, her feet covered in aura to hide her footsteps. Wetting a towel, she wipes down her body and uses her magic to fix her hair before getting dressed. After a minute of thinking, she opts for her usual combination of a red shirt and black pants. Reaching deep into her bottomless bag, Nyx takes out the cloak that she wore during her early adventuring days. She touches each of the holes and thinning patches before putting it on and checking herself in a mirror. The channeler sighs at the thought of taking her appearance so seriously considering she may end up bloody and battered by the end of the day. Thinking of her adopted mother’s words about first impressions causes her to laugh at the idea of the Baron caring about such things.
Hearing a groan similar to her own, Nyx turns to watch Delvin get out of bed and strip out of his clothes. He tosses them to where he thinks his gear is sitting, but ends up putting them in an empty trashcan. She is about to tell her fiancée how late it is when he yawns and calmly falls into the bathtub. Bubbles appear on the surface, which continues to move as the warrior slowly rolls onto his back. Delvin is out a few seconds later and begins searching for his box of coffee rings instead of a dry towel. With a wave of her hand, the half-elf dries him off and takes a seat on the bed to watch him get dressed. She waits for him to have everything on, except his armor, before rushing into a hug that knocks him against the wall.
“Still scared, huh?” Delvin asks with a kiss to the top of her head. He loosens her grip and opens a window to see that the others are already heading for the portal. “Me too even after we talked about the future last night. I know it’s everything we discussed before, but thanks for indulging me. Weird that it’s gone from years to months to weeks and now possibly hours until we face the Baron. Doesn’t feel like we were given enough time.”
“I’ve had a lifetime to prepare and I’m still terrified,” Nyx admits, stealing a kiss before she steps away. Taking her boots off a nearby chair, she has a seat and pauses to stare at the scuffed toes. “He could be waiting alone on the other side of the portal. There could also be an army of undead and demons that we have to battle through. Although, the scariest thing for me would be if we arrive and nothing is there. I don’t want to be waiting for the next blow. All of us have been battered enough since this prophecy started. I want it to be over.”
“Whatever happens, we’ll fight it together,” the warrior swears while he checks his chainmail and bastard sword. The enchanted items are flawless as usual, but the inspection helps put his mind at ease. “I’m sorry about the thing with Fizzle. At least everyone understood what I was trying to do and there are no hard feelings. Now, I think it’s time for us to get going. Don’t want the others to go through first and have all the fun.”
The channeler puts on her boots and grabs a pear from a nearby fruit bowl. “Honestly, I don’t think I’d mind that happening. By the way, you’re not upset that we didn’t do anything, are you? I know we could die, but I didn’t want that to-”
Delvin cuts off Nyx’s words with a kiss that the surprised half-elf makes a little rougher than he planned. “I waited over a year for you to say that you loved me. I can wait even longer for the physical stuff to come about.”
Swooping in from outside, a playful hand of wind comes between them and taps the warrior on the nose. Blushing and grinning, Nyx turns on her heels and leads the way outside, but she has to stop when Delvin hurries to empty the fruit bowl into his bag. They jump when the door closes behind them and the cabin sinks into the ground, the earth smoothing itself and sprouting a patch of white tulips. A pathway of stones leads them to the portal, which is beginning to darken and reveal a shadowy landscape. Even from so far away, the two champions can identify the infamous scenery of Shayd with its eternal storm and desolate mountains. Walking through the fruit tree grove, they slow their pace to savor every second of being on the island. The anxiety of being so close to the end of their journey returns and drives them to enjoy one more kiss under the shade of an apple tree.
“Do all of us get one of those?” Sari shouts from the edge of the portal’s stone dais. The gypsy hurries to take her friends by the hands and lead them the last of the way. “We can’t go without our King and Queen. Timoran has politely declared that Delvin deserves that title since he’s still fond of being called Sir Wrath. The rest of us don’t get titles since we’re nothing more than commoners in the presence of such greatness. Now, go sign Xan’s document and let’s save Windemere.”
“You are far too excited about this, little sister,” Nyx says, freeing her arm. Her eyes fall on Luke and Dariana, the two talking only inches away from the activating portal. “Should they really be that close? What document are you talking about? Why can’t we ease into this instead of things moving so fast?”
“I believe they are making sure there is no bad blood between them. Both seem to be anxious to get to Shayd and put an end to the prophecy,” Xan explains as he approaches the latecomers with a quill and paper. Turning his hands into a ledger, the Time God waits for them to complete his simple request. “I have asked all champions to list a next of kin in case of death, which has been mildly interesting. Luke chose Kira, Fizzle picked the Drite Queen, and Timoran chose Tigris. All of that was to be expected. Dariana refused because live or die, she goes to the Spirit Well. This smiling one simply stated she has nothing to give to others, so she wrote down Kira as well. Now, I see you two have chosen each other. Does this make sense considering one of
you dying means the other will pass on soon after?”
“Thank you, Xan, but we got our affairs in order before we left,” Delvin replies with a polite bow. A sizzling emanates from the page, revealing the names of Nyx’s parents in the same style that they were written in Spellstream. “Guess this was more official than we realized. As far as the life bond, we do tend to forget about that. Can’t really live your life always thinking about death. Maybe I’m selfish, but the whole situation comforts me because I won’t have to wait long for her.”
“Can you two please stop talking about death?” Sari groans while covering her friends’ mouths. Shuddering at how they lick her palms, the gypsy releases her hold and wipes her hands on her favorite blue skirt. “I’m only saying that we should be happy and positive. Forget what Gabriel said because all of us are going to live. A year from now, we’ll reunite in a Gaian tavern, reminisce about our adventures, and Queen Nyxie will pay the tab.”
Xan transforms into a crystal-haired teenager and gives Sari a kiss on the hand. “You truly are a star of hope, young lady. Now, do you have the deck of cards that Cessia left you? She is always leaving important things around for mortals to find. Thankfully, the Law of Influence cannot do anything about accidents.”
With a beaming smile, Sari hands over the deck of glowing cards that have remained fused together since she completed the set. Xan fans them out in one hand while the champions gather in front of the portal. The desolate land of Shayd is shown on the glassy surface, which releases a cold and biting breeze. A distant building materializes in the center of the gateway, a series of wards preventing it from becoming as clear as its surroundings. Holding their breath, the champions hold hands and close their eyes while the Time God throws the enchanted cards at the edge of the portal. One by one they stick to the rim and sink into the metal until they click, each addition adding a little more vividness to the picture. When the ace of hearts is spun into the top of the humming gateway, the entire deck turns like a set of keys and the portal sucks the mortals into its gaping maw.
“Hope that little bit of luck puts you in the best position,” Xan whispers as the deck returns to his hand. Flipping the gateway onto its back, he snaps his fingers and a throne of sand gallops onto the large dais. “My people have done all we can for you, champions. Now, those of us who claim to be the strongest beings in the world can do nothing more than watch and wait. Funny how great power can be negated so easily. Be nice to see all of you learn that lesson in time to use it.”
8
The champions are met with a wall of sweltering heat and the sound of hammers banging against metal. Opening their eyes, they find themselves standing within a tight network of pipes that are hot to the touch. They stay within the alcove and peer through the gaps to catch glimpses of Nyder’s factory. Demons are doing their best to shape flat panels for whatever the gnome is building, his voice ringing out to criticize their work. In the center of the room is a vat of molten metal that sways on its movable base, which is connected to a polished track. Creaky ladders rise to the walkways and upper platforms, which house tools and various inventions. The rotting head of a dragon is carried past the champions’ hiding place, the horrible smell making all of them cover their noses. Carts full of body parts and recently forged pieces go by, the demons grumbling dissent since they are more interested in fighting than working. None of the creatures notice the pairs of eyes watching them from the shadowy corner since there is nothing more than an old staircase and an empty cabinet in that direction.
Waiting for the demons to move away, Dariana snaps her fingers at the open doorway that takes up the entire wall to their left. It is not close enough for them to reach without being noticed, but the telepath brings their attention to a walkway high above the ground. Gesturing that they should climb to the ledge, she points at Luke and Nyx before awkwardly flapping her arms. The others shrug and tap their heads, but she waves her hands and does her best to tell them that the factory might have psionic alarms. Delvin opens his mouth to speak and is stopped by Dariana, her grip tighter than she intended. Bowing in apology, the telepath moves her limbs in an odd dance that nobody else can understand. With a silent sigh, she pulls out a piece of parchment and a nub of charcoal to tell her friends that they are in a gnome’s factory. She feels slightly deflated when Sari and Luke make the same motion to tell her that they already figured that out.
“Keep your eyes out for anything suspicious!” Nyder shouts from his workplace. The gnome drops a bundle of clubs and nets to the ground floor and the excited demons hurry to claim their weapons. “One of the wards shook for a second. Could be a really big rat, but I want everyone to be alert just in case. That new machine makes sure all forms of teleportation will be redirected to the factory. Glad I could finally get that invention to work. All it took was repurposing a gift from our master, which proves that I’m a genius even without magic. Now, remember not to kill any of them. This is capture only.”
“What if hungry?” a worker asks with a gurgle of glee.
“Then, eat the demon standing next to you,” the gnome replies, tossing a fork to the chuckling creature. He sighs when the demon pounces on its friend and gets its long neck snapped in half. “Stop doing that to each other! I can’t summon replacements and the master isn’t going to leave his castle to restock our forces. Swear, I never had this problem with the chaos elves. Can you please put him back together? Just twist that way and push down long enough for something to heal.”
A portly demon raises its arm and waits patiently to be called on. “Why shouldn’t we kill them? The least you can do is let us eat the drite. We all know that he isn’t essential to the prophecy, Lord Fortune.”
“Sure, that critter is fair game, but the champions are to be the master’s guests,” he says with a nod. Tossing several pieces of ore into the molten vat, the inventor remains silent while he watches the liquid change to a slightly darker shade of red. “We need the Compass Key. It took some doing, but a necrocaster I know has found out that we can’t see it. Only the Baron will be able to pierce the spell unless one of the champions surrenders it willingly. Personally, I’d like a chance to make that happen, which is another reason I want them alive.”
“Glory to the bald gnome!”
“Don’t call me that.”
“We won’t let our bald leader down!”
“I really wish Yola hadn’t taught you that before she left.”
“What should we call you?”
“Lord Fortune is fine. Okay?”
The demons shout in agreement and go back to work, their weapons making it difficult to push the carts and use their hammers. None of them notice the six figures climbing the old staircase and sneaking around a dust-covered machine. Having taken Stiletto’s form, Luke leads the way and follows the faint scent of flowers that he hopes will take them to safety. They duck behind a collection of tables when a winged demon rises from below, a yoke around its neck helping it carry polished stones to a higher floor. With Timoran and Fizzle taking the rear, they continue with more caution and worry that they are going in the wrong direction. Coming to a walkway that is cloaked in steam, the champions wait for Luke to change into Pike and slither beneath the horizontal plumes. Returning a minute later, he points to the left with his spiked tail and takes his natural form in order to better handle the hot vapor. Holding hands, they enter the cloud that drenches them in sweat and forces them to depend entirely on the forest tracker’s unique senses.
Halfway through the steam, the procession is broken by Delvin getting tackled to the floor by a familiar, slender figure. A flying club smashes one of the machines and the winged demon returns to clear the walkway with powerful gales. Luke rolls off his friend, whose head was nearly smashed in, and makes a running leap at the creature. With a fluid movement he catches the enemy’s wrist and flips while drawing one saber to slice a wing off. Spotting a chain hanging from the ceiling, the half-elf jumps from the falling beast and gets his leg wrapped
in the sturdy links. Dangling upside down above the vat, he can see the other demons swarming up the stairwells on both sides of the factory. He is about to call for his friends to jump when he sees that Nyx is about to unleash a destructive spell. The fire swirling around the channeler puts his mind at ease, so he casually uprights himself and scans the area for Nyder.
A blast of white foam erupts from the ceiling to drench Nyx and snuff out the explosion she has in her hands. Smoke wafts off her body when she tries to cast again, the attempt setting off a gusher that catches Delvin and Sari as well. Backing away from the mess, Timoran and Dariana leap off the platform to avoid another wave of aura-negating foam. As they pass one of the other floors, a metallic hand bursts from a container and grabs the barbarian by the torso. Fizzle dives at the disguised construct, but an electrified net is launched from one of its knuckles and catches the drite. The pair are yanked into the box, which locks its doors before sliding into a wall compartment. Hitting the ground, Dariana immediately sprints for the vat of molten metal and rears back to strike its base. A horde of demons leap out of the floor gratings and tackle her, so that rune-covered manacles can be slapped into place. The more she resists the necromantic enchantment, the louder the local spirits get until her mind is consumed by a cacophony of shrieks.
“Don’t forget the Callindor!” Nyder shouts from his workshop. The gnome drags a small cannon to the railing, the weapon connected to a glass cylinder by a hose. “Trinity told me about the special defenses in Rainbow Tower when we were still friends. Very easy to copy and alter, so that it could work on all of the champions. Although, I had a feeling the barbarian wouldn’t be taken out by it. Was really hoping he’d set off one of the maiming traps, but I’ll settle for a capture. Look, kid, I don’t really like fighting. I’m more of a creator than a destroyer. Think you could just surrender and not try my patience?”
Warlord of the Forgotten Age Page 15
