Champion of the Gods, Books 1-2

by Andrew Q. Gordon

  “Did you think I didn’t feel you wake up?” Twisting slightly, he brought their lips together for a brief kiss. “What do you have planned that you used a wake-up spell this early?”

  “How….” It didn’t matter. Hopefully Miceral hadn’t guessed what he’d planned. “Happy six months together.”

  He placed a hand behind Miceral’s head and brought them closer. When their lips met, neither pulled back for a time.

  “You woke up early just to wish me a happy six months?” Miceral’s expression seemed surprised but pleased.

  Farrell shrugged. “I can see that’s not enough, but fortunately I’ve something else in mind.”

  Scooting off the bed, he waved a hand absently in the direction of the bath chamber. “Let’s go, lazy sloth.”

  “You realize a sloth is naturally lazy.” Miceral put both hands behind his head and settled back into the pillows. “Calling a sloth lazy is like saying ‘cold ice.’”

  “And taunting one’s grand master wizard companion is a recipe for being doused in water for lying in bed.” For emphasis, Farrell conjured a wall of water and positioned it over Miceral.

  Miceral looked worried but didn’t move. “Do that and you’ll soak the bed.”

  “You’re counting on that to keep you dry?” Farrell let the water inch closer. “There are spells that can dry out mattresses and beds quite nicely, you know.”

  Farrell let the liquid drop, watching as Miceral shot up. The expected splash never happened, as the water disappeared inches from contact.

  “You sneaky wizard.” Despite his words, Miceral smiled. Farrell ran his eyes up and down his lover’s body. He never got tired of admiring Miceral, especially in his usual morning state. Turning his gaze back to Miceral’s face, he noticed he got the once-over in return.

  Miceral smiled, closing the distance between them. “Nice way to wake me up. I suppose I can’t be too angry if you got me out of bed for this.”

  Pressed together, Farrell ran his hands through Miceral’s hair as they continued their kiss. When they stopped, he put his hand up to prevent Miceral from resuming his lip-lock. “Ral, much as I want to continue this, I have plans for us. Nerti and Klissmor are going to meet us at seventh hour, and we can’t be late.”

  Closing one eye, Miceral stared down his nose. “Where are we going?”

  “For a ride.” Farrell took his lover’s hand and pulled him toward the now-ready bath. “It’s a surprise, so please don’t spoil it by asking questions.”

  “Fine—for now.” Miceral scooped him up and carried him to the tub. “But I expect to resume this when we get back.”

  “I think that can—” He never finished the sentence, as he was dumped into the water. Before he could retaliate, Miceral stepped in behind him.

  After kissing the back of his neck, Miceral asked, “Got a spell to dry the chamber out too?”

  FARRELL EXITED close to where Nerti lived. The clear sky, crisp air, and bright sun made for a perfect autumn day. Two baskets sat by a large rock marking the edge of the unicorn homes.

  “You enlisted others in this scheme?” Miceral hoisted a basket and handed it to Farrell.

  “Did you know that if you talk about doing something totally romantic, Lisle melts like chocolate?” Farrell nodded quickly for emphasis. “Of course, five minutes later, she’s back to her old self.”

  Laughing, they rounded an outcrop and found the two unicorns in the clearing.

  “I’m glad you didn’t make us wait, Wizard.” Nerti’s playful reproach added to his good mood. “Are we ready to go?”

  “You seem eager to be off,” Miceral said, leaping on Klissmor’s back.

  “Of course we are. It has been long since Nerti and I have had the chance to run for an extended time.” Klissmor pawed at the ground, as if willing Farrell to get on Nerti and open a Door.

  Once on the Plains of Gharaha, the pair raced for the pass. When they cleared the entrance, Farrell turned them north, hugging the mountains at a distance-eating gallop.

  The sun had nearly reached its apex when Farrell asked them to slow down. They turned and found themselves in a small glade near a clear mountain brook.

  “How did you locate this?” Miceral dismounted and unstrapped the basket from his back. “It’s perfect, but not exactly easy to find.”

  Farrell took a blanket from his basket and spread it on the ground. “I have many talents besides being sneaky.”

  He removed a large bag of apples with a note from Lisle. For Nerti and Klissmor. Don’t eat them!

  “Great Honorus, I have no idea what unicorns like to eat. The clerics handle your care, and they never consult me. Do you even like apples?”

  Nerti appeared behind him, her gaze fixed on the bag. “Silly wizard, of course we like apples. I told Lisle to make sure she packed extra for Klissmor and myself.”

  Farrell handed one to each unicorn, then took the rest from the bag and set them on a flat rock. Turning his focus to their food, he found Miceral removing items and arranging them on the blanket. The goofy grin as he examined each item made Farrell’s day even better.

  They ate most of the food before Farrell pronounced himself full. They followed Nerti and Klissmor down to the stream and sat quietly on the bank while their companions drank.

  Farrell stared at the light reflecting off the water, hand straying to his pocket. Fingering the gift he’d brought for Miceral, he debated whether to give it to him. Miceral disliked magical gifts, even though magic helped with so many things. Farrell didn’t understand the aversion, which made his decision harder. Closing his eyes, he let out an unintentional sigh.

  “Wow, that’s a serious face.” Miceral’s voice made him look over. “What happened?”

  He almost made up some problem, but he didn’t want to lie. And he had made the gift for a reason. “Trying to figure out how to ask you something.”

  Miceral moved closer and put his arm around Farrell. “What can be so bad that you can’t just ask me?”

  “It’s not bad… well, I don’t think it’s bad, but you might not like it. Actually, I’m sure you won’t like it at first. It’s just a matter of how mad you’ll get and if you’ll hear me out.”

  “Farrell, what are you babbling about?” Miceral chuckled softly. “Just ask me.”

  Farrell drew in a deep breath and held it to calm himself. He let it out at the same time he reached into his pocket. The round ivory amulet on a long platinum chain dangled from his hand. He watched as Miceral’s face scrunched up as he eyed the pendant. Farrell traced the symbols he’d carved on it with his thumb. “I made this for you, but I’m not sure you’ll like it.”

  Miceral turned his eyes up to meet Farrell’s. “It’s beautiful. Why wouldn’t I like it?”

  “It’s not just a pendant, Ral.” He pointed to the family crest of Yar-del in the center. “This is my family seal. The symbols around the edge were made just for you, but otherwise it’s the mirror image of the one I wear.”

  Movement behind them let him know Nerti and Klissmor were inching closer. He watched Miceral’s face for a sign he understood but found none.

  “The amulet has magical properties. Most significantly, with it, you and I can communicate mind to mind, like we do with Nerti and Klissmor.” Here, he paused, waiting for the expected reaction. Miceral’s features hardened and his eyes narrowed. If Farrell didn’t act now, he’d lose the moment. “Please, hear me out before you say anything.”

  Miceral turned away only to find Klissmor staring at him. Something must have passed between them because, when he turned back, Miceral nodded twice. His face told Farrell how much he opposed the idea. At least he agreed to listen.

  “I know you hate magic being worked on you, and you really hate magic that gets inside your head, but I swear by Honorus and Lenore this isn’t like that. More, this is linked only to me, and you have to know by now I won’t enter your mind without permission.”

  The lack of change in Miceral’s demean
or didn’t encourage him, but he pressed on. “Soon Meglar will be on the move again, and when he is, I know you’re not going to sit back and do nothing. You’ll ride out with the resistance to help in the fight.”

  “Of course I will. I—all my people—owe him for the loss of our home.”

  “I know.” Slowly, he pulled out an amulet from under his tunic. “This is the mate to yours. I… it should have been linked to my mother’s. She died before they could be connected. Not that it would have mattered.”

  Thinking about his mother nearly derailed him. Squeezing his eyes shut, he pushed her and his feelings aside for now. He didn’t want to mess this up. He opened his eyes and pressed on. “Even if I went with you to fight Meglar, we would be separated by our tasks. These will allow us to speak to each other no matter where the other is.”

  “Farrell, you know I hate this kind of magic. Why would you ask me this?” Miceral’s kept himself under control, despite the sharp tone to his voice.

  Good. Now to keep it that way.

  “Ral, at any time I could slip into your mind; you know I can. But I haven’t, and I won’t without your permission. I hope you trust me enough to believe that.”

  “Of course, but this is different.”

  Farrell held up his hand to cut him off. “No disrespect, but how do you know this is different? All this does is make it easier for you to find me and me to find you. It’ll be no more intrusive than the two of us speaking to each other.”

  Miceral stared at him for several seconds. “You swear that’s all these are capable of? Just letting us speak to each other?”

  “Capable of? No, they’re capable of being used to do a lot more. But it won’t give me any powers I don’t already have. In fact, it’ll give you power over me that you don’t have now.”

  Miceral raised an eyebrow but kept quiet. Farrell took this as an invitation to keep going.

  “With this you’ll be able to enter my mind, and if your will is strong enough, you’d be able to control me. It would require significant amounts of training to do that, but it’s possible. So I’m really the one who’s giving up something. Of course it’ll only work on me, but then, who else would you want to try to seduce with it?”

  Miceral smiled, letting Farrell relax a bit. When Miceral turned toward Klissmor, Farrell felt Nerti’s touch in his mind.

  “Klissmor seeks to sway him to accept your gift.” Nerti’s words helped calm him. “It’s a good idea. Miceral will come to understand that.”

  When Miceral turned toward the water, Farrell assumed his conversation with Klissmor had ended.

  “Miceral?” He waited for Miceral to turn his way. “You know that I would never violate your privacy?”

  Miceral reached over for his hand. Running his thumb gently over Farrell’s fingers, he flashed one of his most disarming smiles. “Trusting you is easy. I don’t even have to think about it. I see the benefits in your gift as well as the trust you have in me. I’m sorry if I overreacted. It must seem like I’m questioning your motives, and that’s the farthest thing from the truth.”

  Farrell quickly shook his head. “I never thought that, Ral. To nonwizards, magic can be daunting. Meglar’s living proof of what can happen when a wizard misuses his power. All I wanted was for you to hear me out, which you did. Whatever you decide, I’m already happy.”

  Glancing at the two very interested unicorns, Miceral reached out for the amulet. “Magic unnerves me, but not when the wizard is you. Every day I see how much you love me. It just took me a moment to realize this was another example of that love.”

  Farrell fixed his gaze on the gift. “There’s another benefit to wearing this. It will block anyone else from entering your mind. But….” He held it up and away from Miceral’s hand. “Before I give it to you, there is something you have to know. Once we link them, neither of us will be able to remove ours without the other’s consent. This protects us both. Even unconscious I could find you through our link. We both must agree or neither can come off. The only exception is if one of us dies. Then the link is severed.”

  Bending his head closer to Farrell, Miceral smiled. “I already know I’m going to spend my life with you. This is not a hard decision. Besides, Klissmor told me this is a good thing, and I know better than to argue with him.”

  Klissmor nudged Miceral with a hoof, but both unicorns appeared amused. Farrell slipped the amulet over Miceral’s head and brushed aside the hair to make sure it rested on his neck. Before Miceral could tuck it inside his tunic, Farrell pulled the mate from his chest and touched the two together. A spark flared from the pair, followed by a constant glow.

  “This is the fun part.” Farrell smirked, getting a laugh from Miceral. “You need to kiss me while they are touching to link them.”

  Miceral rolled his eyes but maintained his smile. “There’s no way to link them other than a kiss?”

  “Of course there are, but those we need to do in private.” They both laughed, careful not to separate their necklaces. Miceral bent forward and gently pressed his lips to Farrell’s. The faint glow grew brighter, pulsed twice, and winked out. Their kiss lasted well after the light disappeared.

  Turning the ivory circle over in his hand, Miceral carefully tucked it inside his tunic. “Can I speak to you mind to mind now?”

  “You’ll need to learn how to make it work. I made sure it wasn’t an open link. Otherwise I’d hear every thought you have until you learn to control it. Much as there are times I would like to know what you’re thinking, only a fool would consider that’s a good thing.”

  Nerti and Klissmor nodded their agreement, getting a laugh from the pair. “So how do I make it work?”

  “Like I said, it’s the same as talking to Klissmor. Just think of me and send me your thoughts.”

  “That’s it?” Miceral said.

  “Ask me without saying it.” Farrell watched Miceral’s eyes grow wider. “My voice sounds different when I speak into your mind.”

  “Very!”

  “That’s normal.” Farrell gave him a wink to let Miceral know he’d been successful. “But try not to yell. Just do it in a normal voice.”

  “What’s…?” Miceral’s hand flew to his mouth. “What’s a normal voice?”

  “What you did just now.” Farrell stood up and offered his hand to Miceral. “Let’s gather our things and head back. The Six only know what Erstad and Wesfazial are doing in my absence.”

  They collected the remains of their meal and began the ride back to Haven. As they rode home, Farrell and the unicorns worked with Miceral on speaking with his mind. Miceral quickly mastered the technique of slipping from spoken to mental speech, speaking to Farrell as easily as Farrell spoke to Nerti.

  “However,” Farrell said, “I prefer we speak out loud unless we need to be silent. I like hearing you with my ears.”

  “Glad to hear you appreciate my fine voice.”

  “I do, except when you sing,” he said with a smirk. “You have many gifts, but singing is definitely not one of them.”

  “Hey!” Miceral puffed out his chest. He paused a moment, his face letting Farrell know Klissmor was speaking to him. “I have a fine singing voice, despite what you and this pointy-nosed horse say.”

  Klissmor nearly tossed Miceral from his seat.

  “Fine, I’ll prove it.” He launched into a song so off-key Farrell cringed.

  After a few bars, he knew Miceral intentionally sang terribly. Not to be outdone, Farrell joined him, doing his best to be equally off-key. As they approached the pass, singing badly and laughing at each other, the guard at the northeast corner came to attention with a sour look on his face. They laughed harder, each accusing the other’s voice of causing the soldier’s pained expression.

  When they rounded the pass onto the plains, Farrell instantly went rigid in his seat, his good mood gone. Ahead of them, a column of horses rode hard, kicking up a cloud of dust. Detection spells told him what his eyes could see; someone had found Have
n. And they rode straight for the eastern gate.

  NERTI DIDN’T need to be asked to go faster. Klissmor matched her burst as they raced in tandem to catch up to the newcomers. Scanning the riders with his wizard’s sight, Farrell detected no wizards. How had they gotten here without one?

  “Ral, I’m going to magically enhance my sight. Do you want me to include you?”

  “Yes!” Miceral shouted into his mind.

  Ignoring the pain, he included his partner in his spell. Approximately thirty horsemen galloped hard for the eastern gate. Beyond them, a large contingent of soldiers from Haven waited in front of the now-closed gate. At the center of Haven’s forces, Wesfazial looked serious but not worried.

  “Nerti, can you tell Wesfazial where we are and find out what’s happening?”

  She didn’t respond, nor did she ease back from her blistering pace. A burn in his lungs told him he was holding his breath. Letting it out, he concentrated on the riders slowly coming closer.

  “Wesfazial said they are messengers from Honal. Now that we’ve returned, he asks that we join him with all possible speed.”

  “Can we overtake them?” Miceral’s voice carried to him over their link.

  “We will not reach Wesfazial before they arrive. Their lead is too great.” For all that he ran, Klissmor’s voice remained measured and calm. “But it will be close.”

  “I can fix that.” Farrell got a mental lock on Klissmor. “Angle to their left. I don’t want to be attacked when I pull us closer to the gate.”

  Waiting until they changed course, Farrell pulled them halfway across the plains in the blink of an eye. Riding as if nothing had happened, the group trailed the fast-tiring horses by only a hundred yards.

  Nerti kept to her pace, quickly drawing even with their guests. She led them north, heading directly for Wesfazial and the others. Safely ahead of the Honalese cavalry, Farrell leaned forward, enjoying the feel of the air whipping around him. Glancing left, he flashed Miceral a playful grin, then urged Nerti faster. He felt a mental laugh just before she lurched ahead of her mate.