by T P Sheehan
Bonstaph looked out at the chaos in the streets. “She is alive, my son,” Bonstaph repeated. “It is what my heart tells me.”
Magnus told his father of Sarah. He explained how Catanya rescued her. Catanya then explained to Bonstaph that she was safe and headed eastward to Brindle.
“Then I must meet her and break the news of her husband,” Bonstaph decided.
Magnus held Lucas’s sword and looked it over. He handed it to his father. “Perhaps you should give this to Sarah.”
“No, Magnus. You keep it. The swords were forged as a sign of brotherhood between you and Lucas. Besides, I don’t think Sarah could bear the full truth—not just now.” Bonstaph handed the sword back to Magnus. “Perhaps… perhaps you may have the chance to return it to him and find common ground.”
Magnus took the sword, feeling the weight of his father’s hope. For Sarah’s sake, he hoped he could make peace with Lucas. Another part of him would never forgive him.
“What about you, Magnus? I take it you won’t be joining me?” Bonstaph asked.
“Your son is now the most important man in all of Allumbreve,” Austagia interrupted. “When the Couldradt dragons acknowledge their own Electus, we will be able to put an end to this feuding. Perhaps even restore virtue among the priests,” Austagia said.
“Magnus chooses his own path,” Catanya said, peering into the court. “There is no virtue worth saving in the priesthood.”
Austagia hung his head resignedly.
Magnus knew his path was of his own choosing. He longed to go with his father but so much had changed since he left home many months ago. The future of Allumbreve seemed to be weighing on his shoulders. He looked to his father again, wishing he would tell him what he should do.
“You’ve changed Magnus. You’ve become more of a man than ever a father could wish for. I am proud of you, whatever path you choose to take. Just be sure to take the path that is right for you.” Bonstaph smiled at his son.
“Thank you, Father,” Magnus said. He knew he was parting ways with his father once again, but glad it was on good terms. More than anything he wanted to find his mother. He also wanted to help reclaim his homelands and help put an end to the battle in the Uydferlands. Then there was the issue of the Authoritarium. For that he would need the support of dragons and it could be some time before that would happen.
Magnus considered his options, taking on board the words Jael had imparted to him. “I know I have much to learn about my powers,” Magnus began. “But I am yet to be convinced about whom I can trust. I have a responsibility to the Couldradt dragons and to my people first and foremost. But before I can do so I need to get out of this place. Too long have my father and I been trapped here. But I do not wish to bring trouble to any of you.”
“You should not go on alone, Electus,” Austagia said.
Magnus agreed with Austagia that they would stay together, at least until they were clear of the city.
Before leaving, Bonstaph confided in Magnus that once he had found Sarah, he would reunite the freed people of their realm and return north through the Red Pass. From here, he would traverse the Outer Rim of Froughton Forest back to the Uydferlands to help reclaim the Fire Realm. Somewhere along this path Magnus hoped to meet up with him again.
Magnus bid his farewells and watched as his father left for the southern gate. He vowed to be with him again soon.
STEYNE
The streets of Ba’rrat were a battleground. The city walls and buildings were buckling and many had fallen to ruin from the brutal attacks of the fire dragons. As the number of dragons grew, even more so did the number of wyverns. From beyond the Black Cliffs, the black Corville wyverns came in storms—strong in number and ferocious in their appetite for blood. It was an old battle reignited and there was no controlling it.
Outside the walls of the arena, the city guards had fled whilst the Quag warriors regrouped and formed counter attacks against the dragons and the Ferustirs. The priests were few compared to the Quagmen, but were the superior warriors.
Magnus kept the company of Catanya, Austagia and Jael. Together they ran through the labyrinth of narrow streets and blocked-off alleyways, working their way toward the northern gate of the city. It was the very gate through which Magnus had entered Ba’rrat over six months ago. With the ongoing battle gravitating away from the north, it seemed the best direction to go. They were, however, being hunted.
A wyvern picked up their scent. It soon had them cornered in a street that was blocked by a fallen house. Magnus and his companions finally overpowered the wyvern at the expense of time and anonymity. Now, they had two more wyverns closing in on them. The wyverns let out an eerie howl when they caught their scent. The howling came from two directions and was closing in fast.
“We should split up,” Jael suggested. Magnus was not so sure. He did not want to risk losing them and not being able to find them again.
“I agree,” said Austagia. “There will be a hundred Quagmen upon us soon enough. It is imperative Magnus gets out of here alive. If Jael and I can create a diversion it may increase your chances of escape.”
Before they had a chance to go their separate ways, a host of six Quagmen seemed to appear out of nowhere. Magnus generated a ball of fire between the palms of his hands and focussed on making the ball larger and larger until it was three feet across in size. He cast it at the men and as it neared them, Jael yelled a spell.
“Exploda fara gin mara!”
The fireball exploded violently, killing all six Quagmen and destroying the walls of the buildings either side of them. Magnus was impressed.
“I’ll have to remember that one,” he smiled at Jael.
“There’s so much you will learn from us, Magnus,” Jael responded demurely.
Magnus glanced at Catanya whose eyes locked on Jael for a moment.
The dragons kept the brunt of the battle to the city’s south, yet the howling wyverns were getting closer.
“Get clear of the city walls,” Austagia instructed. “We will deal with these wyverns.”
“We will find you on the other side,” Catanya said.
Austagia and Jael darted off down a side alley. Magnus and Catanya continued north along a narrow street. The tall, ancient buildings abutted one another, leaving them nowhere to go except forward.
As Magnus rounded a corner a city guard appeared on the road ahead with his back to them. Magnus stopped, grabbing Catanya’s arm and pulling her to a halt. But they were too late. The guard turned and saw them and began to blow into a small horn that rang loudly in the narrow streets, raising the howls of the wyverns even more. Magnus sprinted toward him, determined to silence the horn but the guard fled back around the corner. As Magnus rounded it, he came upon eight waiting Quagmen. Magnus turned, sprinting back the way he’d come with Catanya right beside him and the eight Quagmen on their tail, shouting promises of a painful death.
Catanya threw a series of throwing knives back up the road. Each one scored a hit taking a Quag life with it, but now there were at least six more guards heading their way from the opposite direction.
There was one small passageway to their left, partially blocked by a collapsed wall. They turned down it, traversing its sharp turns with the tenacity of a pair of scalded cats. They sprung off walls to change direction and hurled themselves over fallen objects and bewildered townsfolk who scrabbled for their belongings amidst the rubble. They were easily outpacing the Quagmen until they ran headlong into an impassable obstacle—an Irucantî.
“Joffren!” Catanya exclaimed.
The priest ignited his lance and so Magnus drew the fire-sword, ready to fight. Catanya pulled him back away from Joffren.
“No, we must go back,” she insisted.
Magnus would have rather faced a single priest than a dozen Quagmen, but there was no time to argue. He started back down the passage, right behind Catanya. She was moving even faster than before and Magnus had to muster all his strength to keep up wit
h her. The tall priest was not far behind. The passage turned to the left, then the right.
Another hundred feet and we’ll be among the Quagmen, Magnus calculated.
From out of nowhere, a figure in an old weathered cloak stood out in front of them, hand extended.
“Stop!” the stranger insisted with authority.
Catanya pulled up—startled—causing Magnus to nearly topple over her. Both had weapons ready to attack the stranger.
“There is no need for that, I am a friend… hide here now!” the stranger hissed.
Catanya needed no encouragement, throwing herself into the narrow crevice in the stone wall to their right, dragging Magnus in behind her. Magnus thought it strange she should be so trusting of a stranger, yet this priest she called Joffren had her running scared. The cloaked man hushed them to silence. He threw a blanket over their heads and all three of them crouched beneath it. “If you wish to live,” he whispered, “remain silent and keep your minds guarded.”
Magnus and Catanya did as they were told, frozen on the spot. To Magnus however, there was something familiar about the hooded stranger. I know that voice. Nevertheless, Magnus did as he was told, guarding his thoughts as he peered through the thin blanket covering them.
The priest ran past them. Catanya hugged Magnus tightly and he could hear her trembling breath. Why is she so afraid of this priest? He cleared his mind once again as the priest doubled back, searching along the walls and checking a locked doorway opposite where they lay hidden in the dark crevice. Catanya’s breath stopped altogether, but her grip became vice-like. The stranger behind them began to whisper rapidly, forming a spell. Magnus looked at the blanket as several waves of golden lines shimmered down the fabric. He’s placing enchantments on the blanket.
Joffren turned from the door, walking across the passage to the crevice. He peered at the blanket—his steel blue eyes hunting for them. Magnus could sense the priest’s probing mind. He was searching for any signs of thought. But the spell wielded by the stranger was cunning and guarded not only Magnus’s and Catanya’s presence but also any trace of the spell itself. Magnus was impressed. This stranger must be an accomplished magician to be able to hide from an Irucantî.
The Ferustir gripped his lance and peered at them, as though staring straight through the fabric. The moments to follow seemed an eternity to Magnus, but eventually the priest looked to his left as the Quagmen set upon him. He ignited his lance and moved out of sight leaving them with just the sound of the altercation occurring further down the alleyway.
“Move now!” hissed the stranger, pulling the enchanted blanket away and dragging Magnus and Catanya to their feet. He stepped out of the crevice, into the passageway. Magnus looked him over. The old brown cloak he wore covering him from head to toe told nothing of his identity. He whispered another spell that opened the wooden door opposite them. He turned back to Magnus and Catanya. “Come!” Once they were through the door, the hooded stranger shut it and ushered them further inside.
“Who are you?” Catanya demanded.
The man pulled back his hood, revealing his old, bearded face and long, motley grey hair. Magnus immediately recognised the man and grabbed him, pinning him against a wall.
“Eamon!”
“Indeed I am, and I am pleased to see you, Magnus.” The old man responded in his usual genial manner.
“What?” Magnus grunted, forgetting his need for silence and pushing Eamon even harder against the wall.
“Best you be quiet. There’s a priest out there who’ll stop at nothing to have you dead.”
Catanya walked to the door and went to peek out when Eamon suggested otherwise. “I wouldn’t, young priestess. I have placed wards on the door protecting us from prying minds. They will be broke should you open it.”
Catanya stepped back from the door and looked Eamon over. “Who is this man, Magnus?”
“This man betrayed me. He turned me over to Crugion and his men and profited from it. He sold Breona to Crugion.”
Eamon shook his head vehemently. “That is far from the whole truth, young fire-blood, and most certainly scarce of motive. Allow me voice so that I may explain myself.”
Magnus let Eamon go and turned away from him. He held no desire to look at the man any longer. He walked to the back of the small, single-room dwelling they were in. His eyes were still adjusting to the darkness of the room—darkness he found unsettling after having finally escaped the dungeons beneath the arena. It made him distrust Eamon even more.
Eamon followed him and Catanya joined them, resting a hand upon Magnus’s shoulder. Eamon looked at them both, apparently intrigued by their intimacy. He began to explain himself.
“Back in Guame, Crugion and his men arrived soon after us. By the time word had reached me, they were in the Great Hall, beyond my influence. There was no way I could warn you. What I could do and did was move Breona to safer ground.”
Magnus looked at Eamon but said nothing.
“It was hours later they emerged and placed you in the prison carriage. But you weren’t alone. They had three other prisoners. One was a dear friend of mine. A man who knew your father well.”
“Barron,” Magnus said, remembering the man.
“Aye. I gather he did not fare well?”
“He died during our escape.”
“Oh,” Eamon leaned closer toward Magnus, “I feared the worst for you but then, I had an idea,” Eamon smiled. “I’d convince Crugion to take Breona by stating her importance to your family. ‘Twas no easy feat considering he wanted me dead also. However—within Guame I have friends and enemies… but more friends, who by virtue of their number convinced Crugion to leave me well enough alone. Unfortunately, I could not convince him to do the same for you.”
“You were saying you tried to get Crugion to take Breona,” Magnus sighed, trying to hurry the conversation.
“Yes! This appealed to him. He gloated of his triumph in enslaving your mother and father and now you. Having your mother’s Astermeer completed his undertaking nicely. I thought if Breona were in your company you would have a chance of escaping. After all, only a fool would try to enslave an Astermeer.”
“Did you give any thought to how Crugion’s men would treat Breona? They beat her into submission!” Magnus shook his head in disgust.
“’Tis much to regret that which cannot be undone, Magnus. It was a risky proposition.” Eamon looked contrite. Magnus considered Eamon’s story. It seemed plausible and he knew for certain he would never have escaped without Breona’s help. “Very well then. But how did you end up here in Ba’rrat?”
“It took some doing, but once Mr Overstreet and I were reacquainted, we tracked you through Froughton Forest as far as the clearing. It was there we came across the dragon youngling and Breona.”
“Thioci,” Magnus said. “The youngling’s name was Thioci.”
“Indeed. But something was not right about him. His body was protected by a powerful spell—one unfamiliar to me. But there was something more. Something was missing. It was then that I knew. The youngling had given itself over to another. I knew it was you, Magnus. I knew you had received the bond of fire.” Eamon frowned. “Finding where you went from there was a task.”
Magnus and Catanya exchanged glances.
Magnus did not know what to say. He let Eamon’s words sink in as he relived past events for the thousandth time. Catanya, however, had questions for Eamon.
“If you knew, why did you not tell the order of the Irucantî about Magnus?”
“I have no business with the Irucantî, nor owe them such accord. Besides, with what you know of the virtue of priests, would you give them such knowledge? I can see where your loyalties lie. Apparently, they are not dissimilar to mine.”
“You speak of the virtues of priests. What do you know of priests?” Catanya asked. She stepped closer to him. Magnus looked at them both but became distracted as the sickness of Anunya took hold of him once again. It was the second time
that day.
“Not now…” Magnus mumbled. Waves of nausea started to course through his guts. “Oh, not now.”
“Anunya,” Eamon said.
“What did you say?” Catanya asked Eamon. She placed a comforting arm around Magnus as he began shaking.
“You know of what I speak,” Eamon said. “You’ve experienced it yourself.”
“What do you know of Anunya?” Catanya insisted.
Magnus fell to his knee and retched. Sweat formed across his forehead. Catanya knelt beside him and held him in one arm but kept the other on her lance and never took her eyes off Eamon.
Eamon rummaged through a small satchel that hung from his shoulder. “You’ve been using your new powers a lot of late. I imagine it has triggered the sickness. With time you will adapt and it will no longer occur.”
“How do you know such things?” Catanya asked.
Eamon removed a small emerald vial and prised its sealing cork free with a thumb. “Here, have him drink this.”
“What is it?” Catanya asked. She took the vial from Eamon and sniffed it. “It smells just like the healing nectar we have back at the Romghold.” She sniffed it again. “Honey, camomile, ginger… but there is something more.”
“Yes—rhuderburry.”
“Rhuderburry? Where does that grow?”
“Where does it grow indeed!” Eamon tapped the side of his nose.
Catanya frowned at him. She put the vial to Magnus’s lips and he sipped eagerly of the nectar. Within a minute, his fever subsided. He sat up coughing and licked his lips.
“What was that?” Magnus took the vial from Catanya and drank the rest. “That’s the best thing I’ve tasted since I arrived here in Ba’rrat—that’s for certain. I could have done with that many a time.”
His vision clearing, Magnus could see Catanya frowning at Eamon. Eamon, however, was preoccupied with the bronze fire-sword Magnus had acquired, lifting it from the ground and examining it. “What do you think?” Magnus asked him, deciding to cast his doubts about the man aside for a moment, yet he could see Catanya shifting her body, ready to strike with her lance should the need arise.
