Looking down at the paper, the gypsy sees that something is written on the other side and holds it up with shaking hands. “By the way, do not let a champion get this or you will be destroyed. My aim is not the best while in my current state. If it is a champion reading my note then hello and please hand this over to the people who want to kill you. Holy magic hurts mortals like it does with undead, right? Thank you for being a good sport. Stabbings and beatings from your beloved enemy, Yola Biggs. Oh, if this is Sari then I like your skirt.”
Gently placing the letter on the floor, Sari carefully backs away and watches for signs of another spell. She does not turn away from the gallery until she gets to one of the broken wall and slips into the hallway. Hearing her friends around a corner, the gypsy breathes a sigh of relief and sprints as far away from the area as quickly as possible.
14
“My father is inside,” Dariana whispers, her ear pressed against the metal doors leading to the banquet hall. The smell of fresh food seeps through the crack that runs between the giant breastplates used to make the entrance. “There is no sign of Luke, so I don’t know what we should do. If we go inside now then we could set off a trap. Searching for him or waiting outside could waste time. Do you have a plan, Delvin?”
“Timoran and I are still missing our weapons, which puts us at a disadvantage,” the warrior says as he looks from one end of the hallway to the other. Shadows move in the distant torchlight, making him worry they will be attacked if they wait too long. “I don’t think we have a choice here. Luke will arrive eventually. After all, we managed to find each other simply by walking around. The Baron probably has something special planned for him. That’s if he isn’t already in there and you can’t sense him. Let me think of the best way to go inside. Unless all of you think rushing in is the best idea as usual.”
Cracking their knuckles in unison, Timoran and Nyx coat themselves in their magic and throw punches at the doors. They miss and stumble forward when the entrance swings open to reveal the shadowy banquet hall. While most of the room is in darkness, a line of torches creates a path to a long table that sits beneath a sparkling chandelier. The feast is still steaming and invisible servants move about to pour water and wine into polished, jewel-encrusted goblets. All of the champions’ missing gear has been placed on their designated chairs, the empty one holding a lock of blue hair from Sari’s head. The sound of clinking glasses and distant voices roll from the shadows, giving the illusion that there are other people in the room. Flickers of light are reminiscent of matches used to light pipes, the occasionally puff of aromatic smoke drifting across the torch path.
Standing at the head of the table, the Baron delivers a low bow to his enemies and waves for the doors to close behind them. Wearing a sapphire shirt and matching necklace, the immortal waits for the champions to get closer. Sensing their cautiousness, he removes the rapier from his belt and floats it to a table that appears in a barely lit corner. Frowning at how they continue to walk slowly, the Baron puts his hand on the black form sitting in the chair next to him. With a dramatic flourish of his arm, he reveals Luke, who is staring blankly ahead. Four gems circle the half-elf’s head, each one containing a spirit to prevent them from causing trouble. Invisible servants arrive to gently feed the stunned champion, the occasional blink of his eyes the only sign that he is still alive.
“Welcome to my-” the Baron begins to say before Dariana charges. He catches the telepath’s punch and flips her into her chair, which binds her arms with metal clamps. “Humble prison, champions. It is a shame that we only get to meet once before our battle. I would have liked to know more about those I will kill. Luke has told me a lot about each of you and he’s helped me understand more of the world that I will rule over. Some of it was even shared willingly. Please sit down and eat. All of you must be tired and hungry after your trials here and abroad. I promise that nothing is poisoned. No sense in weakening you and having my future followers claim I rigged our battle out of fear.”
“What did you do to him?” Sari asks as she approaches Luke. She shivers at being so close to the Baron, his aura threatening to suffocate her senses. “If you want us to believe that you aren’t afraid of us then fix him. He’s broken and not much of a challenge like this. Don’t you need him for your big fight?”
“You truly are a beautiful creature, so I am surprised my son ignored you so easily,” the warlord replies, leaning over to get a closer look at the gypsy. Hearing her gurgle for air, he moves away and reduces his presence to put her at ease. “His body is fine and Dariana will be given time to repair his mind. Nothing has been done to the piece I kept, aside from a little poking and prodding. I am impressed by his ability to recover from trauma and setbacks, so I have faith that he will be ready in time. Besides, he is nothing more than a flawed pawn since he never claimed his true power. Such a shame that the last Callindor will probably be the first to fall in our battle. That lineage was perfectly crafted, but then it gave birth to this reckless fool. I can only hope that the last Callindor will be more interesting. Go ahead and throw that fireball, Queen Nyx, because it will be no more effective than my daughter’s fist.”
Not trusting her enemy’s smile, the channeler turns her spell into a puff of smoke that she casts into the darkness. “I’m not sure what to do here, so I’m going to let the others decide on if we eat or fight. Don’t say anything because I’ve spent my entire life training to destroy you. The fact that you haven’t attacked already makes me uneasy. Dariana failing to land a blow doesn’t help because it means you have no intention of doing anything more than bat us around. Can somebody else talk while I focus on not bringing this castle down on our heads?”
With a sigh, the Baron walks to his chair and summons his rapier to his hand, which causes the champions to rush for their weapons. He spins the blade over his head to unleash a circle of light that twists to avoid Timoran. The spell slices through the entire castle and sends the top half tumbling down the mountain. Exposed to the Chaos Void, the champions wait for demons to swoop out of the thickening clouds and crawl over the broken walls. Nerve-wrenching shrieks erupt from the surrounding cliffs as the curious denizens gather and wait to see if they are needed. Resembling a six-winged dragon made of lightning and stone, a gigantic demon rises from below and prepares to attack. As it lunges at the tiny morsels, the Baron bangs his rapier against the floor and the top of the castle reappears. The drooling monster is unable to pull back in time, its severed head falling into the banquet hall. Its glowing eyes gradually dim to the point where they are barely visible in the gloom behind the immortal warlord.
“The Sword of Xan has been mine since I ascended to Ambervale,” the Baron explains while he takes his seat. Grabbing a handful of grapes, he eats a few in an attempt to prove that the food is real and safe. “Even this weapon lacked the power to free me from my cage. Only the Compass Key wielded by the champions can do so. I am not sure which of you is holding the key, but I do thank all of you for ridding me of those six seals. They were untouchable until the temples were claimed and fully powered by true champions. Corrupting your power centers was a smart decision on my part because it meant that your victories there caused a ripple, which weakened my prison.”
“I take it this is where you gloat and make us feel like idiots,” Delvin says while checking his sword. Instead of taking his own seat, he switches with Nyx to put himself between her and the Baron. “Not a bad strategy to get us moving quicker too. Without the threat of the temples collapsing, we could have spent more time training. It shows that you’ve become impatient over the centuries, but also that you have had more influence over the prophecy than we realized. Care to explain more about the six seals? I think we still have four left since we only took out your double and the basement.”
“I believe we have less than you believe,” Timoran interjects, hearing the warlord’s faint chuckle. Accepting a mug of ale, he finishes it in one quick movement before picking up his great axe. “There
is a reason behind everything you do. Dividing us was not done to confuse or weaken, but to get each of us to break a seal. My guess is that there is one left since Nyx and I stayed together.”
Amused by the champions, the Baron claps his gloved hands and nods his head to the two warriors. “I expected the great strategist to understand what I was doing, but I am truly impressed that a man of the wild would get even closer. You are down to one seal, which is the Compass Key itself. The thing that you missed is that I never expected Nyx or Delvin to get at a seal. She was going to be brought here where we could chat about her destroying my son’s aura and being the true perpetrator of his demise. I was hoping to learn more about Stephen’s final moments. Delvin was to be captured and used as leverage to get the truth out of his beloved. I did not expect him to call his shield back and fight his way out of the room before the trap fully activated.”
“Stephen died whining and whimpering,” the channeler blurts out, meeting the immortal’s scowl with a lick of her lips. The room chills for an instant before all of the chandeliers burst into flames and illuminate the entire room. “Be as noble and polite as you want. I don’t even care if you’ve been pulling some of my strings. The fact that you’ve tortured my little brother is enough to make me physically ill in your presence. You want to let us rest and come at you with all of our strength? Fine by me. Just don’t think I’m going to be friendly while I wait for the chance to tear your heart out and burn it to ashes.”
“Now, I see what Stephen saw in you.”
“And it got him killed, so I dare you to make the same mistake.”
“I will admit that I love your fire and energy, but my heart has always belonged to another.”
“Do you mean someone else is physically holding your heart?”
“Oh, I really do like the way your mind works.”
The conversation stops when Luke’s spirits begin to roar and shriek from their prisons, which whirl around the half-elf. His teeth grinding and his knuckles white from gripping the table, he attempts to call them back into his body. When the invisible servants hurry to restrain him, they are cast aside by a gust of wind that sends all of the food and drink hurtling towards the Baron. The immortal stops the debris with a quick spell and leaves it hanging in the air while Luke reabsorbs the spirits. Four beams of light erupt from his chest and spin around until they become a blurry circle over his heart. With a scream, he stands and throws his chair back with enough force to shatter it against the wall. His voice is still echoing throughout the room when he collapses and remains sprawled on the floor. The half-elf twitches and convulses until Sari puts his head in her lap and gently places him under a calming spell.
“You champions do love your dramatic interruptions,” the Baron teases as he creates a couch beneath Luke and Sari. With a snap of his fingers, the pair yawn and fall into a gentle slumber. “They are not needed for this discussion. He is barely aware of his surroundings and I feel the gypsy is too distracted. Where were we? Seems like we get off topic so much, which is a shame because our time together will be very limited. That is unless you are willing to agree to my terms.”
“There is no way I’m working with you!” Nyx erupts, fire coiling around her body. She is about to attack when Delvin catches her arm and shakes his head, the worry in his eyes helping her settle down. “I get it, dear. Luke and Sari are now hostages. We start the fight and you’ll attack them first.”
The Baron places the feast back on the table while staring quizzically at the channeler. “I would never dream of such a dishonorable tactic. The champions must give me a great battle with plenty of witnesses. Otherwise, you become martyrs and legends who can be used to inspire revolution. I need to crush all of you in front of those who would follow your example. Destroy the heads of the hydra if you will. My proposition is that you fight with all of your heart, but pledge your allegiance to me now. I know it sounds ridiculous since I have to kill you. Yet, that oath will allow me to resurrect those who agree and give you a quiet life in solitude. Just a little island or hidden cabin for you and the loved ones of your choice. Nobody will bother you or know that you still exist due to the wards I will put around your private paradise. In return, I will take your power since you will not need it any more in your well-deserved retirement.”
“He’s lying,” Dariana states with a mouthful of food. She can feel a sleep spell coming over her, but breaks two of her fingers to fend it off. “I have eight more of those, ten toes, and all of my ribs, father, so we both know I can outlast you. The truth is that he has a ritual circle on the bottom of the table. Our pledge would give our powers to him immediately, which he would use to seal Ambervale away from the world. It appears the champions have been reborn enough to have very potent auras. Without an oath, he can’t touch our spirits no matter how powerful he gets.”
Annoyed at his plan being revealed so easily, the Baron snaps his fingers in an attempt to put all of the champions to sleep. To his frustration, Luke and Sari wake up, the half-elf sitting up and staring ahead like a statue. He frowns at how Nyx proudly takes a date and victoriously pops it into her mouth. Sensing that he is losing control of the situation, the Baron takes a deep breath and rises toward the ceiling. The immortal passes through the stone and takes the chandeliers with him, which plunges the champions into total darkness. They can hear the doors and windows get absorbed into the walls, the glass and wood cracking from the pressure. As if an afterthought, the demon’s head ignites into a foul-smelling bonfire and reveals that they are now in a large dungeon. Rusty manacles hang from the walls, some of them still holding the skeletal arms of previous prisoners. A stagnant and foamy puddle is the only source of water thanks to a steady drip from whatever is leaking through the ceiling.
“Honestly, I prefer it this way,” Sari admits while shifting on the uncomfortable bench. She is surprised to see that the feast remains and they can reach through the hazy barrier that keeps the vermin away. “At least we won’t starve. I call dibs on that steaming pie, which I really hope is strawberry. No sense letting it go to waste.”
“Sari has a point,” Timoran states, handing her the dessert. The barbarian pulls a steak closer to his chair and takes a tentative bite. “He wants us alive and healthy, which is a small blessing that will not last long. We might as well take advantage of the situation and enjoy what could be our last meal. This time it feels like it truly is the final one.”
Letting the barbarian’s words hang in the air, the champions silently dig into the food that is still perfectly warm. Dariana moves to sit on Luke’s other side and helps Sari feed him, the telepath controlling his body enough to help him chew. Nobody talks out of fear of revealing part of their plan to the Baron or accidentally giving him a way to easily destroy them. It is not long after they have eaten their fill that they realize how exhausted they are and fall asleep in their chairs, which abruptly transform into comfortable beds. Only Luke is aware of the changes, his eyes drifting from side to side as the dungeon turns into a bedroom adorned with paintings of a future that can only be created with his demise.
*****
“Your friends are fascinating and rather entertaining,” the Baron says while looking around the hospital room. He looks out the window at the Zarians tending to their gardens and teaching orphans how to read. “Your mother’s favorite temple. Shame that it was swallowed in the Great Cataclysm, which I’m sure was intentional on Gabriel’s part. It was the right thing to do to send you here since neither of us could raise you properly. Not surprising that you have chosen it as your quiet space.”
“It is bad enough that I must face you in reality, but I would appreciate you staying out of my mindscape,” Dariana states as she examines Luke. The half-elf is covered in wounds that glitter like jagged jewels and dribble rainbow-colored blood. “This is a delicate procedure and I must mend the injuries in the proper order. It isn’t right that I have to do this to him twice in such a short amount of time. This makes it hard to believe t
hat you want a fair fight.”
The Baron takes a seat in the corner and watches as his daughter walks around the bed. She reaches out to tap the edge of each wound, which leaves faint numbers above them. Getting beneath the table, she finishes the counting and curses when she has to rearrange the order to make up for one she missed. Dariana is certain that her father’s presence is disrupting her telepathy, which she briefly wishes she could use on him instead of Luke. Grabbing a crystal needle and emerald thread, the telepath sews the first wound shut and waits to see if the sutures hold. She gestures for the Baron to stop tapping his toe, the noise irritating her more than she knows it should. The half-elf abruptly coughs and spasms to break the stitching, but settles down as soon as all the wounds have reopened. Putting her tools down, Dariana touches his forehead to search for a reason the psychic healing failed.
“If you have a reason for being here then make it quick. Otherwise, I want you to leave or I will transfer his pain to you,” the silver-haired champion threatens while she massages her patient’s temples. Digging her fingers into his flesh, she pulls out strands of gold, silver, onyx, and bone. “You injured the spirits as well. This healing requires that I bind all five of their energies into one thread. Such a procedure normally takes weeks, but you have made it clear that I do not have that much time. The stitching will be thick and clumsy, but you will have a healthy champion by the morning.”
Warlord of the Forgotten Age Page 26
