The Echoes of Destiny: An Epic Mage Fantasy Adventure (Legend of the Ecta Mastrino Book 5)

by BJ Hanlon

  Edin was pushed through a door and knew he was outside and under arrest. He heard metal jangling. Then someone pushed him hard from behind. He stumbled and nearly fell until something hard caught his gut and he nearly doubled over. Then his feet were grabbed and lifted and he landed on his chest on a flat surface. A moment later he was shoved forward and heard a metal gate slam shut.

  “Just an abomination. Nothing to see here,” one of the Por Fen said. “Do not worry, your children and families are safe.” Then he growled, “do not move, abomination, until I tell you.”

  He heard the thwap of whips on horses or donkeys, and the jail cart jerked forward. The wheels rumbled over the cobblestones and made his bladder scream for relief. There were soft splashes outside as well as if it had just rained.

  As he went, he tried to remember the turns that were made but then remembered there was no need. He knew they were headed to the church and the Vestion was near the castle.

  In most cities they were near each other. Like fraternal twins.

  Though the Vestion’s cathedrals or churches were not as grand as the estates of the kings of men, the gods’ grandness was said to be the entirety of the sky and the afterlife.

  Edin pictured the church. Tall towers, pointy spires, and carvings of demons, monsters, mages and men around the exterior. Great stained-glass depicting dead abominations or the gods performing miracles tended to be in at least one window.

  Sure, it was okay for the gods to have powers like the magi, but give them to man and you’re evil and destroying the world.

  Edin thought of what Yassima said. Joining his friend, then she gave him something. She shoved it in between his manacles and wrists. A key he hoped.

  The cart jerked to a stop and Edin was yanked to his feet, the manacles digging into his wrists. Edin bit back a yelp as the door behind squeaked open and he was pushed out. He dropped about three feet and landed on the hard ground. He barely caught his balance as he landed.

  A voice to his right said, “blast it, I hoped he’d faceplant.”

  Then a foot caught him in the back and he flew forward. His covered head hit the ground; the cobblestone scraped his chest. Everything that touched the ground became wet and damp.

  “Now he did,” someone else said, and there was laughter.

  Then he was pulled to his feet again and spun around. Edin could feel a presence in front of him. He was dizzy and sore but at this point didn’t care. The wan stones were still suppressing him pretty well, but he felt like he had to deal something back, to make sure these people knew what hit them.

  Edin leaned back slowly, and then flung himself forward. He slammed his head forward and felt it connect. There was a spurt of blood and a wild, girly scream. Someone tried hitting him in the spine but he knew it was coming. Edin ducked and thrust out a foot. It caught soft, meaty flesh and someone yelped.

  The whinny of a horse came from his front and then the cart’s wheels started to rattle over the ground again.

  Edin reached up and ripped off his hood.

  There was a wet sheen to the world with small lanterns and streetlights reflecting off the glaze on and the puddles in the cobblestone.

  He was in a small courtyard behind the grand Vestion cathedral. Two Por Fen were on the ground, another two were racing toward him. Edin felt the key slip between his wrist and the cuffs and heard it clatter to the ground.

  He didn’t have time to pick it up. Not with the two Por Fen coming at him and drawing their weapons. One pulled out a pair of long knives like Dephina, the other a mace with a monstrous face for the hammer.

  He glanced toward the cathedral and saw a small closed door. It was maybe the size of a regular home’s entrance, not like the grand front doors he was certain were on the other side of this place. The gate they’d come through was closed. Nowhere to run.

  Edin glanced down at the key again. He couldn’t run will with the heavy manacles.

  Then the one with the mace got there. Edin dodged a downward blow by ducking left, then the man swung it around in a great arc around his head to bring it back.

  Edin shifted his weight back right as the knife wielder approached. He felt the suppression in his body and the soft connection to his talent. It wasn’t enough. He drove a shoulder into the Por Fen still swinging the mace. The man lost his balance and tumbled. Edin heard a sickening smack as he drove the attacker into the ground. There was a thud and a wicked gasp.

  Edin rolled off to the right, ready to dodge the knife wielder when he saw the other wasn’t standing either. Edin glanced around and saw the body a few feet away. Perched where the head should’ve been was what looked like a smashed watermelon.

  Then there was noise. One of the Por Fen, the one with the broken nose, was racing toward the door. The other one was crawling toward the gate. He turned toward the door and ran. Edin caught up to the man just as he was reaching for the handle. Edin leapt and threw the manacles over his head and rammed a knee into the man’s back. They both crashed into the door with a thump and dropped.

  A moment later, the Por Fen was unconscious. Turning back to the one with the broken leg, he saw the man was on his feet and hobbling slowly. He was still ten feet from the gate.

  Then a black shape appeared to leap over the stone wall and land next to the Por Fen monk. A moment later, the monk was on the ground and the black shape was coming toward Edin.

  Edin looked around for the key. Where…

  The black figure stopped near the dead man, bent down, and picked up something. It turned toward Edin and tossed the object. Oil lamp light reflected off it making it twinkle like a star. He tried snatching it, but the throw was short. A pair of tinks came as it rattled on the cobblestone and then settled.

  Edin snatched it up and looked back at the mysterious helper but the person was gone.

  “Thanks, Raven,” he whispered and then looked at the metal piece in his hands. It was almost a key but not. It was too thin and had much more rounded edges.

  Edin started digging it into the lock on one of the manacles. Sweat tickled his scalp and dripped into his eyes. It seemed to take forever. Then it popped open like a coconut after a hardy slash.

  Edin worked on the other and after a few moments he was free. He looked back toward the monks. Only one was certainly dead, killed by his brother Por Fen monk.

  The other three he guessed were alive.

  He glanced up at the towering cathedral behind him. It rose higher than the library. It was also darker and quieter.

  That had always seemed odd as the gods were said to be more outgoing than the quiet servitude that the priests showcased. Who knew what they did behind closed doors though?

  Edin looked back toward the gate for the Raven—he was certain it was her or one of her men—and then to the rear door. He had to be quick. There was no telling how long it’d take before these zealots woke from their slumber. He quickly searched them and found keys and wan stones. He kept the former and threw the latter far over the walls in different directions.

  Fortunately, the rear entry to the cathedral was unlocked. They were probably waiting on the delivery. As Edin entered, he realized he should’ve put on one of their ugly black cloaks.

  Beyond the door was a gray stone room decorated with metal U-shaped sconces. There were wooden benches lining the walls with other things above them: shields with scorch marks, broken swords and staves, and there was a door on every wall. Maybe he attacked too quickly. Maybe he should’ve waited until he was closer to Berka.

  Using his gut, an instinct that was usually more right than wrong, he chose the right door.

  He was wrong. It was nothing but a small pantry. For a moment he thought that there could be a dungeon somewhere below them and then remembered there was another city down there.

  Then he tried to think about what the building below would look like. It’d have to be strong, unfathomably strong, to hold up the entirety of this monolithic building.

  Edin closed the door
and looked toward the other two. The left door and the one opposite the entryway. He went to the left thinking it was better to not delve deeper into the cathedral. Not unless he had to. He really did not like being here. It was one of the worst places for a person like him to be sneaking around. His palms were sweaty and he wished he would’ve grabbed at least one of the weapons from outside.

  Edin rushed across the room and put an ear to the door. There was no sound coming through the thick wooden slats.

  He tried the handle and found it locked. Edin grumbled as he started to dig into the lock with the pick. It popped in barely a second. Pretty good.

  As it opened, he was certain that this was the right door. Not that he saw anything, it was a dark and eerie corridor lit by the same sconces as the other room. But something said it was right.

  Edin went inside. There were no other rooms on either side and the corridor ran for twenty yards before turning right.

  As he approached, he began to hear voices. His chest pounded in his throat. He stopped at the edge and peered around the corner. Spiral stone stairs but no people. The voices were coming down the stairs like a debutant at her ball.

  Carefully and as quietly as he could, Edin scooted around the corner and began to climb. The stone was quiet under foot and he made a full circle and a half before he appeared at a door at that bookended another corridor. Ten feet away, he saw a pair of Por Fen monks. They were seated casually on either side of a table laying down cards and drinking from shiny metal tankards.

  “Ah-hah. A straight,” one said and grinned.

  The other groaned as the first rounded up the coin at the center of the table and pulled it to his side.

  “Come on, I’m not giving up that easily,” the loser said.

  “Glad to hear it fool, I mean friend.” His words sounded like he was grinning.

  They’re gambling, Edin thought. Gambling was frowned upon by the church in the outside world. Apparently it was another do what I say, not as I do type rule. Politicians, nobles, and the church all seem to abide by that saying.

  He didn’t feel any wan stones in the area and had only his hands and the talent. Past them, more firelit sconces lined the hallway. It was a long hall with five sconces in total.

  An idea formed in his head as a smile came to his face. This could be fun. He thought and closed his eyes. Edin concentrated on the furthest one and its flame. He took a breath and aimed a hand toward it and a moment later, felt the fire slip out of existence.

  Edin looked around the corner and saw the men didn’t seem to have noticed it. He began to feel that his time was running short. He followed the same pattern and whipped out the next flame, then the next.

  Then one of them yelped like a dog whose tail had been pulled by a wild two-year-old.

  “You see that?” He gasped.

  He felt the next flicker out of existence. Edin opened his eyes and looked around the corner. The two Por Fen were staring the other way.

  “How did… there’s no wind.”

  Edin watched as they looked at each other and then slowly began to turn his way. He felt the last flame. It tickled his brain for a moment then it exploded into a giant ball of fire.

  There was a rush of air and screams. Edin raced around the corner and caught only the last glimpse of light.

  Then everything was black.

  Edin swung a fist in the last place he remembered seeing the loser Por Fen. He felt it connect with flesh and heard a grunt. Then, in a flash like lightning, he lit a small ethereal orb. He saw the other man, the winner and let it disappear. Then he threw a kick toward him. Another grunt and yelp and a moment later, the table slid across the floor and the coins clattered to the ground rolling and spinning and making a whole lot of noise.

  He lit another ethereal orb, saw the first guy getting up, spun back, kicked him in the face and let the orb disappear.

  Then he backed up a few feet, feeling coins beneath his boots. He summoned a last one, saw the other Por Fen getting up, but he was facing the left and he held a knife in his hand. Edin tossed the orb toward the man and made it explode in a bright light just before his face.

  He screamed and tried covering his eyes.

  Edin followed the orb and leapt. He kicked out and caught the guy in the chest with his heel and the man flew backward.

  Edin landed and dropped to a knee and summoned a, hopefully final, ethereal ball.

  He was right; the two men were unmoving on the ground. Edin stood, holding the ethereal orb and looked toward the door next to him. Standing there with his hands on the bars and mouth gaping was Berka.

  Edin felt relief flow over him. “Are you okay buddy?” He gasped and reached for the handle. He tried it but it was locked. Of course it was.

  “Yeah,” Berka said his words long and slow as if he’d been drugged.

  Edin pulled out the picking key and wiggled it around for about twenty seconds before the door popped open. “Come on, we have to—”

  “It was like you were jumping between spots without ever going from one to the other.” He started to snort, the beginnings of one of his loud laughs.

  “Quiet,” Edin said and grabbed Berka’s shoulder and pulled him toward the back stairs. “No time.” Edin nearly had to push him for the first five or so steps before he snapped out of it and they began down. At the bottom, the light from the still-lit sconces let him release the ethereal orb and they ran down the hall. Ten seconds later, they were back in the courtyard.

  Edin nearly skidded to a halt when he saw that all of the Por Fen monks were missing. “Blast it.” He should’ve tied them up. But he couldn’t stand around, he ran after the ginger lad.

  “What?” Berka said as they reached the gate, then he flipped a small switch near the wall. There was a clicking and the door swung open. “They have these on all Por Fen walls. Ease of access.”

  They burst into the street. To the left about a hundred yards was the castle and just in front of them and across a large open square stood the library. Edin thought about the historian, for a moment but then pushed it from his head.

  “The inn,” Edin said. “We need our gear before we get out of the city.”

  Berka started jogging. For a man that’d been in prison for a day he moved pretty well.

  The streets were still damp and there were few people out. A tavern just off of Elleir Street seemed rowdy with singing and string instruments being offered up through open windows. There were cheers and the pounding of feet as people danced. It was as if the dematian threat was fake. As if it were some hysteria perpetrated by the nobles and a lying media.

  Edin spotted something further down the street. The small garden from the first night he’d jumped, or more accurately was flung, over the wall. Edin again thought of the old guard Foristol that he’d killed. The one man who’d helped him when he was in need.

  He felt guilty and sad but knew he’d had no choice in the moment. Edin gritted his teeth and looked away before turning to the north.

  They ran a few more blocks and then Berka showed him the inn. Edin didn’t even remember to look at the name or location when he’d left that day.

  They went inside and pushed through a great many people and toward their rooms. Edin didn’t have a key, except he did, the one he’d gotten from Yassima. Edin tried it and again it worked. Somehow that thief got a master key to Carrow. He opened the door and saw his things as he’d left them. Dorset’s stuff was gone however, and there was a note on the small stand near the water basin.

  “Passage set for tomorrow at dawn aboard the Evening Rambler. Foci welcomed. Moved to Waterhog Inn.”

  “What is a Waterhog?” Edin asked the empty room then pushed the question from his head. It didn’t matter.

  Berka appeared behind him carrying his own pack and his greatsword. “I’m ready.”

  “Let’s hope so.” Edin grabbed his things and nodded. Did he go to the inn or try to escape the city? How would he get out? How would he close the tunnel
entrance?

  He wouldn’t dare go back to the Raven’s place. The Por Fen knew of it and would be searching. The worst part, Edin thought, was that she had the explosives.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Thinking,” Edin said realizing he hadn’t moved.

  “Do it quicker,” Berka admonished. “We cannot stay here. Though I didn’t tell them about the inn, I’m sure they know. And I’m sure they know about our friends.”

  Edin pursed his lips. He agreed, but he needed to destroy the tunnel that the dematians were using to get into Dunbilston. “Ready.”

  A minute later they were back on the street and walking toward the ocean. Far ahead, he saw the wooden docks and cranes that were used to lift goods up from ships.

  “Shouldn’t we be heading out of the city? I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to swim in the ocean.”

  But Edin wasn’t listening. He was looking ahead at the docks. There were only a few lifts still moving at this time of the night. Burly armed porters pushing or pulling wagons and wheelbarrows emerged from the elevator and instantly they spread out like a splash from a single raindrop. They disappeared minutes later heading up and down city roads toward their destinations.

  Other men were hanging about as well, though they were near the few taverns. Drunks mostly, loud and seemingly having a good time despite the impending dematian threat. There were guards standing near the railings and he assumed their job was to prevent some of the drunks from tipping over the edge and meeting their maker.

  He spotted stairs down and headed for them. Edin needed help, if he could get it. Rihkar maybe, but he was older and weak. Maybe it was the one arm, maybe it was from all of those months surviving on rats and being alone looking for the Rage Stone. It probably didn’t feel great when he found out it where it had been.

  He knew Dorset wanted to get back to Canno and wouldn’t miss the ship. Then he remembered how Cannopina was in tears on the dock as Dorset shipped off to help his friend. The young bride had shuddered with sobs. She’d lost her father and now her husband was leaving.