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

by BJ Hanlon

  Those explosives. He thought, that was their only chance.

  They descended the stairs and waded through the much more crowded Lowtown. He found the Waterhog and saw the line out the door and around the corner. It didn’t look like anyone was getting in. Edin turned back and looked at the ships down below. Which was the Evening Rambler? And what did that even mean?

  “Doesn’t look like we’re getting in,” Berka said.

  “The ginger genius.”

  Berka slugged him in the shoulder.

  “Berkey?” A soft voice came up over the rabble. They both turned and Berka lit up like a tree aflame. A very red flame.

  He ran to El nearly barreling a couple of people over. El threw her arms around him, and they kissed. Edin swallowed. Another friend with someone special. He knew he should be happy but there was an emptiness in his gut. A vacant place where his joy should be.

  Edin didn’t know what El and her family were planning on doing, but he figured Berka would want to be part of that. They’d want to have hope and be together.

  Edin would if Arianne were here, but Arianne would want to fight by his side. She was the one who wouldn’t leave him. The one who’d stay until the job was done or she was dea—

  He stopped the thought, shook his head and turned away. Seeing these two together, Edin knew he’d have to go alone. He’d figure out what to do about the cave and the dematians by himself. Maybe the Raven had gotten word to Sinndilo, if Sinndilo was still in charge, then the duke could send help. Maybe a troupe of city guard could join— Someone in the guard. Yes that was it. What was Ashtol’s cousin’s name? Did the man even tell him?

  It would be risky and who knew if the guard captain would believe him or if he’d try and slay Edin on the spot when he found out he was a mage. And another question, did he know where the explosives were kept?

  It was all straining his head as he started to slip away.

  “Edin?” He turned and saw Dorset. He slowly moved toward him, avoiding a couple of creepy looking men, late teens or early twenties. They wore spectacles, clothes that were too tight, and had beards and earrings. Beneath a rolled-up cuff on one, Edin spotted a tattoo.

  “Is everything set for your departure?”

  Dorset nodded. “Suuli saw you here. He wanted you to come to him.”

  “Me? Why?”

  Dorset shrugged. “He’s in my room, beyond this cluster of human refuse.”

  An old woman heard him and glared. She had one lazy green eye and few teeth. They skirted around to the side of the building and up an outer staircase that was guarded by a thick built man with dark skin. He looked like Kanti from Frestils in that light.

  If there were many more battles like the last, Edin guessed that man would be drafted into the army. Probably a second or twelfth stint by the looks of him.

  Up the stairs, they entered a side door and a long and narrow hall made narrower by people hanging out against the walls and glaring.

  Dorset opened a door to a small room with Suuli lying on the bed, the formerly sick Foci Dun Bornu woman at his side and Henny and Rihkar on two chairs.

  Suuli looked up and his eyes twinkled, though they seemed foggy. The old seer raised his hand and motioned for Edin to come closer. Edin did. He could feel the hot breath and nearly taste the smell. The man smelled horrible, almost like death.

  When he was only inches away, Suuli spoke. It was in his tongue and for a moment Edin couldn’t understand. They didn’t speak the same language after all.

  But then he did. Somehow the words were being translated in his ear or in his head. “The loss of her moves you, but she is not gone. She is being held.”

  Edin’s mouth dropped. He felt as if he’d just taken a hammer to the temple. Then his mind worked a bit. “Held? Held by who? Where?” He spoke fast but Suuli’s eyes were glazed and he didn’t seem to be hearing or seeing Edin.

  Then the old man said, “you must follow your path. You are destined to defend man against the ones desiring to overthrow them. You must steel yourself for loss.”

  Then Suuli’s eyes shut like a guillotine and his head fell back into his pillow.

  “Suuli?” Edin said. The old man answered with a snore. What did he mean?

  “What the heck?” Dorset said.

  “My gods,” Rihkar said apparently able to understand as well. “What does that mean? Are you really meant to save the world?”

  Edin’s tongue felt tied. Almost literally. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t think. He was already following some stupid prophecy, at least he thought so. The path Suuli had said.

  Which path: destroying the tunnel entrance or recruiting the elves or both? What about finding the last of the Ballast Stones? Was that a path as well?

  Edin groaned. His head was hurting.

  “What?”

  It took him a moment to remember that other people were around. He blinked and looked at Rihkar and Dorset, both staring at him dumbfounded. Probably as dumbfounded as he felt. And probably just as confused.

  Edin tried to force a smile as he looked at Rihkar. It felt like a good fake. “I gotta go.” Edin said still confused. “Good luck. Hopefully Casitas isn’t as stubborn a blotard as I remember him.”

  He turned to leave.

  A chair scrapped the floor. “Edin, wait,” Rihkar said snatching his shoulder. “What did he mean? Where are you going?”

  “To close the tunnel, then I do what I promised. I have to recruit the elves.”

  “Then what? Where do we meet, how do we communicate? It could be months.” Then he corrected himself. “It will be months before we see you. Where do we go?”

  Edin shrugged. “How the heck should I know? Do you think I’ve got some magic jar that I rub and it tells me what to do and when to do it? Or maybe a coin, I flip it and follow its superb guidance.” Edin looked at Rihkar then Henny and Dorset. “Maybe Suuli can help when he wakes.”

  Dorset shook his head and in a regretful, somber tone said. “I don’t think he will.”

  Edin looked back at the old seer again. The man looked to be at peace, there was a sereneness to him, a look of someone who’d never worry about a thing.

  “If he does, tell him I’m sorry about Fokill and Yechill.” Edin reached out and put his hand on the old mans. It felt cold. “I have to go.” He paused, “I wish I had your guys’ talent.”

  “I’m coming.” Dorset stated. There was a gravitas to his words that felt different. Strong and proud and so unlike the Dorset he’d first met.

  “No, you have to go to the Isle of Mists.”

  “It’s not mists anymore. Besides, Rihkar and Henny can convince the Praesidium.”

  “What about Canno?”

  “I’ll take another ship. She would not wish me to step out of the fight.” He looked at Edin. “There are many more Suulis out there, many more who’d be slaughtered. I’m doing this Edin. I will do what I can and not leave until I’m done.”

  Edin nodded. “Get your things.” He was still holding the old man’s hand and saw the cloak that still hung from his shoulders.

  It was warm and perfect for any time in the world outside human-made walls, but it was the Foci’s. Edin took it off and laid it on the seer. “Thank you, Suuli.” His eyes grew moist and he turned from the old man.

  7

  The Seer’s Last Sight

  Berka caught up to Edin as he exited.

  “I’m coming with you,” he said though he didn’t know where. There were no questions from him or from El about anything, and Edin was in a hurry.

  But they took their sweet time. They kissed and held hands like they’d never see each other again. Maybe they wouldn’t.

  Edin pushed the negative thought from his head. Yes, they would. No one would die. Then he thought of Horston, of Mersett, and now Suuli. He thought of all of the magi killed in the Reaches.

  So many deaths, so many more would come.

  Then he wondered how could anyone from Delrot would want to help
after that? Maybe they would simply let the dematians burn the entirety of Bestoria?

  Hopefully the prodigal son, Rihkar, could convince enough of them to help.

  “Are you finished?” Edin said and Berka and El broke apart. He turned and followed the roads and they were quiet as they walked through the underground. Edin took Rihkar’s much thinner but still warm cloak. A good thing about it was it was normal looking. The white cloak stuck out like a rose in a bed of pine needles.

  They passed a few buildings and saw some of the homeless and ruffians staring at them. None made any move to attack though and it was probable very few could still do so.

  Edin held the signet ring in his hand as they headed toward the nearest stairs to the upper levels. It was a thin stair and rarely used according to the Waterhog’s innkeeper. It came out only a few blocks from the northern gate. The closer to the gate the better. Edin just hoped the duke’s cousin was still there.

  They waited for a few moments at the base of the stairs then Dorset went up first. He was the only one that hadn’t been in the Por Fen’s custody and was maybe a bit less conspicuous.

  As Edin was looking around in the underground world, he saw a face. It was half lit and half shadowed but it looked familiar. Edin stared for a few moments trying to figure out who the man was or who he looked like when he heard Dorset whisper, “Come on.”

  Edin turned and then jogged up the stairs, his sword clapped against his leg. He and Berka emerged next to Dorset on the damp stone street. Edin crouched and stared out at the soggy world.

  A bit less than a hundred yards away was the gate with covered torches flanking it. They waited for a few minutes, just watching the exit, but they saw no guards down there.

  However on the walls there were. Edin could see them and remembered his attempt at breaking into the city. He thought of the chase over the rooftops and absently rubbed his stomach.

  “Are we ready?”

  Edin saw his two friends staring at him expectantly and nodded.

  Berka went first. He had his hand over his shoulder and tickling the hilt of his greatsword. Dorset moved next, his longsword, a bit like Edin’s sans the magical properties, was drawn. Hopefully they didn’t need them.

  Despite the far-off cries and hollers of some revelers—what they were reveling in Edin didn’t know—the street was silent. Up here there was no one, no homeless or refugees.

  Ahead, he saw a man starting to come around a corner to their left. Berka waved them to the right and they dipped into an alley. He was looking around and saw that there were lights in nearly every window and at least in every home and shop.

  “The candles are to keep away the unwanted,” Berka said somehow knowing what Edin was thinking. “If they think someone is there, they won’t try to break in.”

  Edin turned his gaze back to the gate and the new person standing before it. It wasn’t a Por Fen monk but it was a guard.

  “Unless they’re really desperate and on the verge of death.” Continued Berka.

  The guard moved up toward the portcullis and Edin realized that despite the fact this was his second time in the city, he hadn’t personally walked through the gate once. It almost made him laugh.

  Then the guard said something that could’ve been ‘I’ll see you later’ or ‘I’ve seen you naked’—in the male humoristic lexicon, the latter could’ve been valid.

  The guard turned and began to head out. He bobbed his head and was whistling. It was a happy tune. One with an upscale beat, the type of song that left you with a smile and a good feeling in your chest.

  Then the man disappeared back around the corner.

  “Let’s go,” Berka said and took off again with a quickened pace. They tried to keep out of sight of the walls and the archers on those walls as they moved closer to their escape, to the exit, and to a skirmish with some demons.

  At least they had two magi and a trained Por Fen monk, well a Por Fen adapt, Edin corrected himself.

  Ahead, there was an open space of about fifty feet between a tall gray building and the gate. They’d easily be seen by someone on the wall. The real question was, were they being hunted by the entirety of the law-and-order folk of the city or just the church’s arm?

  Edin hoped it wasn’t the former but couldn’t be sure.

  Berka was looking up toward the west wall. His eyes were unflinching and after about thirty seconds he said, “Keep low, be silent and speedy. Walk on the balls of your feet; Now.”

  Berka ducked and jogged off and caught both Edin and Dorset by surprise. Then they all were out in the open, crouching as they ran.

  It was barely twenty seconds, but it felt like an hour. They crossed the open space and ran right up next to the closed portcullis. To the right of it was the spoked wheel that was used to open it. Leaning against it was a guard, a rather shocked guard by the looks of him.

  “Hi there,” Berka said standing straight up and smoothing out his cloak. “We need to get out of the city.”

  The guard had his hand on his own sword but when he saw the three men before him were armed, he lowered it. “The gate stays locked until the morning.”

  Edin felt the signet ring in his fingers and pulled it out. He stepped up in front of Berka so it was just him before the guard. Edin opened his hand. “Your captain gave me this a few days ago.” The guard eyed it for a moment, looked up at Edin, and then turned to a barred window set in a closed door that Edin missed a few moments before. “Captain Feldspart!” He shouted startling Edin.

  “What?” A voice shouted back, though he didn’t sound to far away. Then a man appeared. He was thick in the neck and broad shouldered. He looked a bit like a brawler, someone who’d be seen in street fights. Edin thought that until he saw the way he held himself. His shoulders were back and his chin was up. A confident man and a proud warrior.

  “These people want to leave, and he has your ring.”

  Captain Feldspart opened the door and looked down at the ring then at Edin. “You’re the one sent by Sinny?”

  Edin nodded.

  “A bit ill the last time I saw you. Did the healer help?”

  “Lots of mintweed,” Edin said and grimaced. “I hope I never fall ill again.”

  He chuckled and Edin felt relieved and then the old duke’s cousin—who knew what the relation was called to the new duke—nodded.

  Edin felt grateful. “Any other word from the duke?”

  “None, and there have been no refugees today.”

  Edin felt Berka and Dorset both looking at him. They all knew what that meant.

  “May I inquire as to why you’re leaving the city at this time of night, especially with,” he paused, “the things out there.”

  Edin took a breath. He’d already sent a messenger, or hoped Yassima did, to the duke to inform him about the two tunnels he’d found out about. He had no reason not to tell the captain. Edin looked over his shoulder. He thought he saw the same face from below in the shadows of another doorway. Was it one of the Por Fen who were with Merik in the village?

  “There is a cave that is an access to an old dwarven tunnel system.”

  The younger guard started to laugh. A great moronic belly laugh that seemed to be far too exaggerated for it to be real. And he laughed until the captain swatted him with a leather glove.

  “Go on.”

  “The dematians are using it to travel unimpeded.”

  “I see,” Feldspart said, his voice cautious and curious.

  “We’re going to close it,” Berka said stepping next to Edin. A moment later, Dorset did too.

  “Close it? How?”

  That was a hard question to answer if the questioner was a mundane who probably hated magi. Though a thought crossed Edin’s mind. Something he remembered Dephina say long ago: ‘magi are used by nobles and Por Fen monks.’

  “We have our ways,” Edin said hoping the nobleman would understand and not try to kill them. Edin really didn’t want to hurt able bodied men. Especially on
es who literally held the gates between the hordes of demons and humanity.

  “Simms, go rouse the day shift.”

  “Captain?” Simms said.

  “Now.”

  “Sir?” Edin said.

  “My second cousin trusts you. Though I’m not one of Sinndilo’s biggest fans, I know he holds the people’s wellbeing close to his heart, magus. I believe you do as well, otherwise you wouldn’t have destroyed that many dematians and exhausted yourself to near death.”

  Edin didn’t react. He didn’t have to. Feldspart gave a half-hearted smile and moved to the wheel. “This is a bit heavy; I could use a hand.”

  Berka stepped up and took control. The portcullis opened slowly and loudly. A wall guard appeared through the doorway wondering what was happening and Feldspart told him, “We’re going to stop the dematians.” He turned to Edin. “Where is this cave?”

  “Falic Mount,” Dorset said. “It’ll be guarded by many dematians.”

  “It’s going to be dangerous,” Edin said.

  “It’ll be less dangerous with more than three people.”

  Edin looked at the wall guard. “Well, let us hope to succeed. Or the city will be short a heck of a captain.”

  There were twelve guards including Feldspart who walked behind the three men. For a few moments, he felt great. Like a general of men leading people who feared and respected him into battle. Despite everything, Edin grinned.

  “What?” Berka said. “Why are you smiling?”

  “Who would’ve thought we’d be here a year ago?”

  “You mean heading to fight some of the scariest beasts ever to walk the earth? Possibly heading to our own deaths?” Berka said, eyebrow raised.

  Edin looked toward the mountain in the distance. “Yes.”

  “Certainly not me,” Dorset said. “I would’ve thought I’d be teaching more snobby youth.”

  “You’re a teacher?” Berka asked.

  “Yes,” Dorset said.

  “That’s why I never liked you,” Berka snorted.

  They went barely a quarter of a mile when Feldspart spoke up. “I say we turn off here and cut cross country if we’re to go straight to the mountain.”