Alia’s grip on Xander’s mind was released a few moments after the door slammed to her room. He gasped in a breath full of air as if he had been drowning although he had no reason to do so.
Ryonus helped him to his feet while another magician cautiously opened the door to Alia’s room. “She is gone out the window,” the man said.
“Is the child gone too?” asked Xander.
The man went into the room and confirmed that the baby was not there. Then Xander turned to Riona and told her, “Take a group out and find them. Bring Avelice back to me, but let Alia go if she does not wish to return. No harm is to come to either of them.”
“Yes, grandmaster.”
Tomlin watched and blended into the background of the room, hoping to go unnoticed.
Chapter 31
Three days passed before Kellen next came to see Byrn. He had feared that the knight would betray his confidence to Janus, but since Byrn had not yet been executed he hoped that was not the case. He also hoped that Kellen’s failure to return meant that he was considering what Byrn had asked. The knight’s honor would dictate that he remains loyal to his king, but his best hope of protecting the king was to help Byrn.
Then there was also the question of whether Kellen believed that Byrn was really Byrn. He hoped that his display of Kenzai magic would be enough to convince Kellen, but again it was too difficult to guess at. As each day passed, Byrn grew more uneasy. They would be in Mollifas soon and would need to be prepared for whenever Xander attacked, but he needed to train in the Kenzai art in order to stand a chance against the necromancer.
When Kellen finally did return on the third day, he did so alone. Circles under his eyes showed that he had experienced some sleepless nights, but other than that his outward demeanor was unchanged from that of the man who nearly bludgeoned him with a warhammer. “Tell me something that only Byrn Lightfoot would know,” commanded Kellen. “What did I say to you when I first found out that you were a magician?”
That had been nearly six years ago. It seemed like it was someone else’s life now, but Byrn still remembered. “You said that it was alright that I was a magician as long as I was not causing any trouble and I denied that I was one.”
Kellen nodded. “And what was my nephew’s name?”
It was a strange question, but perhaps that was why Kellen asked it. To Xander the name of Kellen’s nephew would not have been something worth remembering even if Byrn had ever mentioned it to him. “His name was Rallen and he was one of the city guardsmen.”
“That he was,” said Kellen mournfully. It was still difficult to accept that Colum had been destroyed. In that moment, he saw Kellen in a new light. The knight was adrift in this world. Everyone he loved was dead except for Sane and the sorcerer wanted nothing to do with him. All that he had left to hold on to was his honor and duty as a knight.
“I’m sorry,” Byrn told him. It seemed like it was not enough for the role he played in Colum’s destruction. If he had not helped free Xander in the first place, then all of those people would still be alive.
The knight waved off his apology. “Save your words. If you help to defeat the real Xander Necros and his rebellion, then I will teach you as much as I can once we reach Mollifas, but first you must make a gesture of good faith to me. You must reveal your true identity to King Janus.”
“No,” was Byrn’s immediate reaction, “Look at this.” He tugged on the collar around his neck. “If not for this he would have killed me already regardless of who I am or what I have to offer. Xander is a would-be conqueror that will kill anyone in his way to take over the kingdom and remake it in his image. Janus is already king, but his goals and methods are not that different. Against my better judgment, I trusted Xander in the hope that I could broker a deal that would result in a peaceful conclusion to the magician rebellion and this was how I was treated.” Byrn’s hands gestured up and down the old husk that he now wore as his flesh and bone. “What do you think Janus would do if he found out the truth?”
It was a rhetorical question, but Kellen answered anyway. “He would ally with you to defeat a common enemy. I can understand why you might be distrustful of him, but he is still you brother and he would not do anything to harm his family.”
“Janus would slap a working collar around my neck at the first opportunity just like he did with Sane.” The words were spoken in anger and Byrn knew that they would hurt the knight. Kellen would always blame himself for what happened to Sane, but he needed to be made to see reason. His next words were gentler. “Choosing Xander or Janus will do nothing more than determine whose people rule over the other. We have to forge a new path.”
From the uncertainty on Kellen’s face, Byrn knew that he was reaching him. Then he looked away abruptly. “King Janus already knows. He has allowed me to make you this offer of an alliance and I suggest that you take it for your own sake.”
At that moment Byrn had to suppress the urge to call Kellen any number of colorful names that sprang to mind. Instead he did as he was asked and followed Kellen back to Janus’ cabin of his own free will. He should have known better than to trust Kellen. Once again the knight chose his vow of duty over doing what was right on a personal level. Byrn knew that there was a chance that this would happen, but he was desperate and thought that it would be worth the risk.
This time when he was brought before Janus the meeting was less formal. There was no greeting and Janus’ face wore a grim expression as he looked down on Byrn. “You might as well take that collar off. Let us be done with false pretenses, brother. It is interesting. I have never had the opportunity to address you as such. My baby brother in the body of an old man.” Janus mused at the idea. He was nearly impossible to read as his voice lingered somewhere between threatening and a dark humor. Byrn took off the gold collar and let it fall to the floor. “Kellen tells me that you wish to serve the crown.”
“I wish to stop Xander Necros and get my body back,” Byrn told him.
“That is not exactly the same thing,” King Janus answered. “Make your plea.”
The blood in his veins boiled, begging to strike out at the king. Not only was this man responsible for killing hundreds of magicians and enslaving hundreds more, but also he was arrogant in his smug superiority. It manifested in the way he sat, the way he smiled, and in the way he spoke with people.
“No, it is not,” Byrn agreed, “and I would not swear my fealty to you… at least not without getting something in return.”
“You still draw breath,” Janus warned. He wanted Byrn to be certain that Janus was the one in control, but when the magician did not say anything, the wondering became too much and Janus asked, “What more would you ask of me?”
This was an opportunity for Byrn to get what he most wanted out of this trip. It was the only reason he had stayed aboard the ship for so long in the first place. “I want you to free all of the magicians that you have in custody. If you do this, then I will serve you faithfully.” Byrn bent his head down in a half bow.
“I should trade forty magicians for one?” Janus laughed at the incredulity of the offer.
“You should trade forty magicians for one that can defeat Xander Necros.”
“No!” It was Kellen from behind him. Byrn turned and saw the knight grappling with another man- one of Janus’ royal guards. The gleam of a new control collar in the man’s hand caught his eye.
The room erupted in chaos. It was normally a spacious cabin, but the half dozen guards in there with Janus, Kellen, and Byrn made the room below the dais Janus sat on feel cramped. Weapons were drawn and anti-magic light grew around them. Hands grabbed at Byrn from either side and almost immediately let him go as a cloak of flame wrapped around his body.
“Get out! Get out!” Someone shouted as the room began to fill with smoke and the heat grew intolerable. A door opened and daylight streamed in from the deck.
“Kill him!” It was Janus. “That is an order!”
Kenzai swords stabbed at
Byrn from all sides at the king’s command and glanced off of Byrn’s magical armor beneath the cloak. The blades withdrawn were red with heat from the fire cloak, but quickly plunged at the sorcerer again, taking a bit of his magical energy with every strike. He wanted to launch an offensive against the guards, but it was all he could manage to manipulate the two different magics at once.
He was suddenly aware that Kellen had been struck unconscious by one of the guards and was being dragged from the room. Byrn tried to follow, but could not get away from the stinging blades. Instead he ran deeper into the cabin toward Janus. The king was surprised to see the flaming man charging him and recoiled behind his throne as two of his guards stepped between them and swung their blades at Byrn. They bit through the magic armor and cut Byrn’s chest, but the cuts were not deep enough to cause him worry. However, it was enough to stop his charge and knock him down. Several stabs from other guards caught him in the arms and hands until Byrn could no longer maintain the dual spells and they collapsed.
The room was still burning and Janus ordered that Byrn be dragged out of the cabin. Two men grabbed the magician and did as they were commanded. Even as they were exiting, sailors were making their way into the cabin and extinguishing the fire before it could get out of control. Janus order the magicians on deck to use water magic to help quell the flames and they had no choice except to do his bidding and in this way the fire was put out.
While this was going on Byrn was focusing his magic internally and repairing the minor cuts that he had received. However, he was still weak from the fight and did not have the energy for a full recovery.
Janus turned his attention to Byrn. “Take him up to the main deck and assemble the other magicians at once.”
“Yes, sir,” said one of the guards and left to collect the rest of the collared magicians.
Byrn was taken up to the main deck and the glowing blades held in front of him prevented his magic from recovering any further. It only took a few minutes for all of the magicians to be brought together. They looked at Byrn on his knees as Janus and the guards stood over him.
“This man would be your savior,” Janus addressed the crowd, “Only moments ago, he tried to kill me.” Then he drew out a knife. It was a fine blade of exceptional craftsmanship. The hilt was golden with ornate designs including the Aurel crest of a raven against the setting sun where the sun was a ruby. He grabbed Byrn by the hair so that his face was raised up. They locked eyes for a moment and then Janus drew the blade across Byrn’s throat. When he let go of Byrn’s hair, the sorcerer fell to the deck and blood spurted out onto the king’s leather boots. “This is what happens to those that defy me!”
The crowd stood transfixed on the dying sorcerer, unable to do a thing to help him. The tears in some of their eyes or the cries of disbelief were lost on Byrn as he lied there dying. He clutched at his throat and attempted to mend the wound, but he could not summon forth any magic. His vision was growing dimmer. The taste of blood in his mouth was strong and he felt like he was drowning even though he was still onboard the ship.
“He is bleeding on my boots and making a mess of the deck,” Janus told one of his men callously. “Toss him overboard and then get someone over here to clean up.”
Then Byrn felt his body being raised up although most of the world had grown black around. He fell for a second before the hard smack of water engulfed him and he was dimly aware of the Kingdom’s Key sailing away. Smoke still billowed from it where Byrn had started the fire in the cabin.
Away from the effects of the Kenzai, his magic was slowly regenerating, even as the blood left his body. He drifted there and tried to focus enough to heal his neck, but it was too difficult to think. He had to live! The thought jolted him awake for a moment and the sorcerer focused on first closing the wound. It would have been simpler to cauterize the slash across his neck, but he was too wet for that to work now. Instead he focused on healing energies and passed them through his throat. Tendons and flesh stitched together and Byrn coughed out a mouthful of blood into the sea.
Soon the magic he had been able to regenerate was spent and darkness crept at the edges of his vision once again. He hoped that he had done enough to save his own life, because he could muster no more strength.
The ships were long gone as he drifted in the sea. His eyes closed inevitably even as the sight of a giant red creature flew overhead. A dragon.
Chapter 32
Only the crackling warmth of a campfire drove the cold of night away from the sorcerer’s old bones. Byrn slowly opened his eyes to see the dance of flames play out before him. At first, he did not think to wonder who had made this fire or how he had gotten to dry land. He only laid and enjoyed the heat as it soaked into him. Then, in a panic he reached at his throat, remembering Janus slashing a blade across it.
“You’re alright,” said a voice soothingly. It was a familiar voice. One that was well weathered and knowledgeable. “You have been through quite an ordeal, but your wounds have been healed. Honestly, it is a wonder that you are alive.”
“There is no wonder to it. His will to survive is strong. However, he was fortunate that we were so close.” This voice belonged to a young woman, but it was cold, lacking any of the natural compassion that most women carried as they spoke.
Byrn felt for the scar that should be going across his throat, but found none. “This is a complete healing,” he croaked. His throat was dry, but he suffered no undue injury.
“He needs drink,” observed the woman and came into his field of vision carrying a small wooden cup. She was fair skinned with fiery red hair that flowed wildly and she wore a simple red dress of a similar hue. She cradled Byrn’s head in her lap and held the cup to his mouth that allowed the water to trickle down his throat.
“Not too much,” cautioned the familiar voice. “Humans must drink slowly when they are in a condition such as Byrn’s or they will choke.”
“I have read about human physiology,” said the woman in red. She spoke dispassionately. Her words did not sound like a rebuke, but as a statement meant only to inform.
When she took the cup away Byrn tried to swivel his head to see whom the familiar voice belonged to, but found that his neck and joints were too stiff to allow him a full range of motion. His mind was still half asleep, preventing him from being able to focus enough to recall who was speaking.
“He wants to see you,” observed the woman, dryly.
A shadow moved across the campfire and was soon followed by a body dressed in a green cloak and brown traveling gear. His hands were bony, indicating his age, but otherwise he moved like a man in his middle years of life. When the man went to one knee Byrn recognized his savior immediately. “Sane?” he asked in surprise. His voice hoarsely cracked, but was already much looser thanks to the water.
Sane smiled. “It is good to see you still live. I feared the worst. No, do not try to get up. You still need to rest. Southernstar is very powerful by our standards, but even she has her limits and you still need to rest.”
The woman called Southernstar had moved away and was no longer visible from where Byrn laid. He wanted to ask about her. From their conversation Sane seemed to indicate that she was something other than human and Byrn wanted to find out more about her, but another thought jumped to the forefront of his mind. “You called me Byrn. Then you know what Xander did.”
Sane gave a short nod and he suddenly wore a look of worry at the mention of the grand necromancer. “We had a run in.”
“He tried to kill us,” added Southernstar.
“As powerful as Xander was before, he has grown so much beyond that now. He can cast dark magics unlike anything I have ever seen before. Worse, he can still kill.” Sane looked to Southernstar regretfully for a moment before continuing.
Byrn sat up with Sane’s assistance. “And as strong as he has become I have grown that weak. Xander’s body is failing. Much of his strength came from others that he fed from like a vampyre in one of my mother’s be
dtime stories. However, if they were victims or willing donors, I could not guess. Regardless, my magic is still potent by most standards, but without tapping into that kind of power I cannot rival him.”
“A dragon’s strength is not measured by the beat of her wings or the sharpness of her claws. It comes from her spirit,” said Southernstar. She had wandered back into Byrn’s vision and sat down by the fire.
Seeing Byrn’s confusion at the woman’s words, Sane told him of his meeting with Wise and his subsequent trip up to the Dragon’s Peak. He told him of the majestic dragons and how he met Southernstar in her true dragon form. His voice grew stiff and Southernstar began to roughly poke at the fire as Sane spoke of his last confrontation with Xander that nearly resulted in his death. “Xander took the grimoire from me and burned it to ashes before my eyes. His black energy spell was about to erupt and I was right next to it when he fled. It was Southernstar who leapt to my aid. She created a magical dome around us to protect us from the blast.”
“My spell would not have been enough to save us at such close range if Sane had not thought to add his strength to mine,” Southernstar volunteered. She would not look away from the fire. “Others of my kind died that day, but we were the fortunate ones.” Then she added, “The library was destroyed too. So many ancient works were lost in a single moment of time. Centuries old knowledge was lost in the blink of an eye that can never be recovered.”
“We did manage to save this,” Sane pulled a few pages of paper from his pack and handed them to Byrn. “Before Xander attacked I had already found the spell in the book and marked its place. We were preparing to leave when Xander caught up to us, and I ripped out those pages when he first attacked, fearing he would overpower us.”
The pages were aged, but still well preserved. Byrn instantly recognized the drawing that Xander had made on the floor of the tower when he stole Byrn’s body. “It is good that some things have gone our way,” said Byrn, “but how did you find me?”
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