Champion of the Gods, Books 1-2

by Andrew Q. Gordon

  “You were never this fawning.” Nerti’s voice appeared in his mind. “As I recall you were disrespectful, bordering on rude, when I first appeared.”

  “Me? You snapped at me for asking legitimate questions. How was…?” He noted the twinkle in her eyes and frowned. “I…. You…. Fine.”

  Nerti’s mental laugh made him smile. Her playful side only came out for people she cared about. He liked feeling her attention.

  “Of course I care. You were silly like a young foal at the time, but you are an honorable man, even by unicorn standards.” She moved away from the others and nuzzled him. “I too would have been deeply saddened if you left us. Don’t ever doubt that.”

  Farrell felt his nose tingle and struggled not to tear up. “I won’t.”

  “All who are coming are here.” Gedrin’s voice drew all eyes to him. “Please seal the room.”

  Marisa walked to the Door they’d used, and Emerson shut the other. Power flared once both doors clicked shut, power he’d not noticed during his scan.

  “Everyone please be se… comfortable.” Markus changed his word when he looked at the three nonhumans. “Father Gedrin and I call this council to order.”

  “Seek my council and ask to see the room I left behind.” Farrell’s chest seized.

  Gedrin looked at him. “Excuse me, Chosen?”

  “It was a quote in Kel’s book. ‘Seek my council and ask to see the room I left behind.’ At the time I assumed Kel misspelled counsel. That passage was part of why I believe he’s still alive. Now….”

  “Ah.” The priest nodded. “The fact he meant this group and not his advice does not make it any less likely he’s alive.”

  “True.” He didn’t feel as confident as he sounded.

  Markus cleared his throat and stared at the priest. “Shall we begin?”

  “I thought the Order was headed by the crown?” Farrell looked at Markus, who nodded and glanced at Gedrin.

  “The year Yar-del fell, Honorus sent me a dream that made clear his desire for the Order to come under the joint direction of His temple and the crown.” Gedrin kept his gaze on the guests. “His majesty’s father was king then, and he had the same dream.”

  “My father believed the change was made in anticipation of your arrival.”

  “And now I’m here.” Conscious that he’d become the center of attention, Farrell tried to laugh off his comment. “I assume you won’t just hand me whatever it was Kel left behind.”

  “That is correct.” Markus smiled. “Even were we of a mind to make it easy for you, we have nothing to give you.”

  “Right. Whatever he left, it’s hidden in that room.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “The one that won’t let anyone inside.”

  “I’ve not told him the content of Kel’s message.” Gedrin pulled a scroll from his sleeve. “I thought Your Majesty would like to do the honors.”

  The king stared at the paper for a moment before accepting. “It didn’t appear?”

  “It did not, Your Majesty.” The smirk on Gedrin’s face was hidden from the king, but it was conveyed in the tone of his voice.

  Markus’s lips twitched, but he kept a neutral expression. “Can I assume he told you that Kel left a message?”

  “He did, cousin.”

  “Well, then, here’s what he said.” He unrolled the paper and held it lengthwise between his hands. “When the darkness returns, my successor will come seeking aid. It is my hope this council will have followed its mission and be able to provide knowledge and wisdom. But since I cannot rely on the competence of others, I leave behind aid of my own. Only my successor can enter the room over there and claim what she or he may find. To my successor I leave one last bit of advice. Let the eye direct where you use the arm. If Honorus is generous, I will be here to help you in your task. If not, I wish you the blessings of the Six, as you belong to All, not just One.”

  “Not much help there.” If anything, Kel’s words confused him even more. Miceral squeezed Farrell’s hand under the table. “I guess I’d best go find out what Kel left me.”

  “A moment, please.” Fergus stood up, drawing all eyes toward him. “The Order has been tasked with guarding this room and other valuable information since its founding. What proof do we have that Farrell is an heir of Kel’s, let alone his successor?”

  Gedrin turned to the king, who nodded. “King Markus and I are convinced this is Kel’s heir. His true name is Halloran, a name all in this room are familiar with.”

  More than a few shocked expressions greeted that announcement. Gedrin and the king both stared at the prince. Fergus’s jaw tightened, and Farrell thought he might voice another objection. Instead, one of the women with him stood up.

  “Prince Fergus’s question is valid. Members of the Order were selected to work together to confront Neldin should he return, not blindly follow the words of a few. No matter who those few are.” She searched the room, and Farrell noted a few nods. “For centuries we’ve guarded this room. Why rush to anoint him heir and successor?”

  The air shifted as Rothdin rose to his full height. “My adopted son is who he claims. Do you doubt my word?”

  “Father.” Farrell stood up. “Her question is valid.”

  “No, Chosen, it is not,” Father Gedrin glared at the woman. “Duchess Thermia, the temple and crown are convinced he is Halloran, son of Zenora. None would deny him the right to enter the room.”

  She licked her lips and swallowed. “I appreciate you believe his claim, but….”

  “He never claimed he was Halloran.” Gedrin’s jaw tightened, and he never took his eyes off Thermia.

  “There is an easy way to resolve this.” Marisa’s voice broke the tension. She stood up and walked to a corner of the room. “Turn over the stone.”

  Without waiting for an answer, she picked up the brick-shaped rock and turned it over. In bold blue letters, Halloran’s name glowed.

  “Any further questions?” Markus asked as Marisa returned the stone to its original place. “Hearing none, I’ll speak for the council and say Halloran is permitted to try his luck with Kel’s room.”

  “And lest any forget, entry into the room does not mean he will come away with anything Kel left inside,” Marisa added. “Other descendants of Kel have been inside the room and found nothing before they were pushed out. If Halloran finds something, it will be clear he is Kel’s successor.”

  “All this way for an empty room?” Miceral asked.

  “The room won’t be empty.” Farrell didn’t want to appear too confident, but he knew this had been meant for him. “Kel left me something inside.”

  The king appeared at Farrell’s side. Together they walked the few feet to the door. To Farrell’s inner eye, the door held no powerful spell, no hidden magic. It was just a stone door.

  “This is it, cousin. I hope you find more inside than any before you.” Markus pulled the handle and stepped back as the door swung.

  AT FIRST glance, Farrell saw nothing, but it felt familiar. Correction, it had a familiar feel. When he closed the door, he felt the surge of power directed at his presence. Rather than summon a ball of light, Farrell turned his shields iridescent as he increased the strength.

  Nothing new showed up now that he was inside. The circular room was empty. Shifting to wizard’s sight, he saw signs of massive stored power everywhere. Spells woven into the floor and walls crisscrossed, leaving a near blinding landscape. The awe he felt at such a massive effort was tempered by fear of what the spells were meant to do.

  In the center of the room, a smooth white marble stone broke up the otherwise uniform dark gray rock. Cautiously he walked toward the oddity, certain it had some significance. As he moved closer, the stone began to glow brighter. The light distracted him and he stopped walking.

  Nothing was ever as it seemed with Kel. Despite its prominence, the stone might not be the prize he sought. He felt a moment of panic when he realized he’d probably walked into the trap Kel had set.
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br />   Blocking out everything else, he stared hard at the spells around him and ignored them. Kel meant for him to find these. Somewhere in the room, Kel had laid spells he didn’t want anyone to find until it was too late. If he could find those, he might be able to counter them before they defeated him.

  Sifting through the spells near the surface took time and effort. It also took discipline not to move until he made certain he could do so safely. Using every trick at his command, he didn’t find anything that constituted a serious threat. He stopped his search and considered what he knew. Only Kel’s successor could enter. His continued presence suggested that, much as he suspected, Farrell bore that title. Kel also hid something in this room. Something he thought Farrell could use in the fight against Neldin. Last, the spells meant to keep everyone else out had not been activated.

  Since he was allowed to remain, he needed to search for whatever Kel had left him. Kel’s words were “whatever he or she may find.” He took those words to mean he might find some, all, or none of what Kel stashed inside this room. So far he’d found none.

  Minutes passed, but he kept at his task. Pushing past a set of tightly packed spells, he found it. Hidden, powerful, and bordering on dark magic, the spell flared to life the moment his mind touched it.

  “Neldin’s balls, Kel! Are you trying to kill me?” His scream echoed around the empty room. Instantly, powerful magic struck his shield on all sides. Miceral, Rothdin, and Nerti screamed into his mind, but he ignored them to focus on the new threat.

  Make that threats. It took him a second, but he soon discovered two different spells attacked at once. The first assault struck with the force of a sledgehammer, an attack his shields easily repelled. The second spell solidified Farrell’s image of Kel as ruthless and ingenious.

  Woven tightly with the first spell, the second almost escaped notice. The attack acted like a leech sucking energy from his shields. The more power he used to maintain the protection, the stronger the drain. As the intensity of the offensive on his shield increased steadily, Farrell realized his own energy fueled the attack. If he didn’t find a counter soon, he’d be defenseless before he could escape.

  Moving to the center of the room, Farrell extended the shield under his feet as a precaution. Instead of drawing his shields closer to conserve his power, he extended them. Despite the added drain on his power, he took a gamble that his energy would last until he’d completed his plan.

  He removed his staff from his back and pulled out a couple of the short Cytus wood staffs he’d infused with power during his time on the Rose. For maximum efficiency, he tucked them inside his tunic so the smooth wood pressed against his skin.

  With his shields extended about half the diameter of the room, he created a second layer of defense closer to his body. It wouldn’t last long, but it provided a cushion against the parasitic effects of Kel’s spell.

  He used his staff as a stylus and slowly etched his own spell on the floor. Inside the second protective barrier, the energy he directed to his spell reached the desired location. Satisfied Kel’s spell couldn’t siphon off his energy, he increased the pace of his countermeasure. Once Farrell covered the floor inside the inner shield with his spell, he moved away from the center until his inner and outer shields touched.

  Farrell ignored the relentless assault and the increasing burden it placed on his defenses and walked a circular route around the area he’d enchanted. As he neared the completion of his work, the level of power directed against him increased noticeably. A quick assessment of his defense satisfied him he’d have time to finish, so he redoubled his efforts until he’d covered the entire floor with his spell.

  When he filled the last empty space, he stepped back toward the center under the still-growing attack. At this rate, even his shields faced imminent failure. If his counterspell didn’t work, he’d need to find a way out of the room—fast.

  Farrell retracted his inner shield until it formed a second skin around him. He diverted as much power as he could spare to this safeguard and tapped his staff three times on the stone floor to activate his countermeasure.

  Nothing happened at first, but he didn’t expect there to be an immediate change. Carefully he pulled his outer shield toward him, reinforcing it as it retreated. Once the wall of energy crossed into the space where Farrell had woven his counterspell, the amount of force directed against him leveled off. As the distance between the two shields shrank, Farrell felt the attack abate. By the time the gap could be measured in inches, Kel’s barrage sputtered a few times and then stopped.

  Safe inside his sanctuary, he dismissed the outer shield and diverted it to his remaining defenses. Kel’s spells were, however, still active outside the area of his counterspell. He’d need to deal with them later, when he wanted to leave.

  Using the reprieve, he examined the center stone. Although it continued to radiate light, it defied all attempts to examine it with his wizard’s sight. Cautiously he bent down to look closer. He extended his hand and could feel heat radiating from the area. Nothing happened, so he touched the warm stone with his palm.

  Maintaining his position, he pushed outward with his will. The stone sank gently into the floor, making a grating sound as it fell.

  Farrell jumped up, on guard for a new attack as he watched the white marble disappear. He recreated a shield beneath his feet and waited. Long moments passed, but the room remained silent and calm. He slowly let out his breath. Before he could squat down again to examine the area, he felt a surge against the shield under his feet.

  Staring at the opening, he watched the energy flare twice before he recognized the spell. “Stupid,” he whispered to the empty room. He waved the tip of his staff over the empty space and stepped back.

  The stone pulsed again, and this time an image of his ancestor appeared from the gap in the floor. The man before him appeared middle-aged, despite being centuries old when he’d cast this spell.

  Kel stared at Farrell. When a smile formed on his lips, Farrell almost thought the real Kel stood before him.

  “I knew one of my line would be clever enough to survive my test.” The voice caused Farrell to jump despite its light tone. “Hopefully you were not hurt in the attempt.”

  Farrell blinked. The exchange felt so real. What stood inches away was not Kel, but how could he have created something that could interact with someone? When the image started to walk forward, Farrell woke from his thoughts.

  “Stop!” He shook his head at his stupidity. It was a premade messenger. It couldn’t hear him. “Now I’m talking to myself.”

  “Really?” Kel’s likeness tilted his head, his expression almost whimsical. “I thought you addressed me.”

  “You can hear me?”

  “Of course. I’m standing right here.”

  “But… you’re not real.” He quickly checked again to be sure. “You’re an illusion.”

  “Indeed, but I am capable of interacting with you.”

  Farrell stared with his mouth slightly open. The complexity of the spell nearly overwhelmed his thoughts. When Kel laughed, Farrell stopped trying to think of how to cast the spell. “Don’t be so surprised. Having lived more than two thousand years, I’ve had a lot of time to dream up all manner of useless spells. Many are in the book you’ve already received from Khron’s priest. This particular spell took me decades to perfect. I kept trying to leave for good, but the spell kept dissolving before I could finish casting it. Thankfully Beatrice left me a book with her thoughts on the topic that was a great help. But she was ever the better wizard.”

  “Beatrice was better than you?” The debates between his master and mother over who was the better wizard, Beatrice or Kel, had usually ended in a draw.

  “Beatrice was a dear friend and a great wizard, but her passion was more academic than practical application. Whereas I had a flair for the dramatic and would put my theories into practice for all to see, she preferred to keep her great works private and act without taking credit. />
  “But I digress. Tell me why I shouldn’t keep walking.”

  Farrell tapped his staff on the ground and illuminated the runes he’d etched onto the floor. “Because if you move beyond the small area around the white stone, my counterspell will very likely void the bindings on your spell.”

  Kel glanced at the floor, then at Farrell. “Can you turn it off?”

  “Yes.” He almost withdrew his spell, but a thought stopped him. “I’ll do it, but only if you promise to deactivate your spells first.”

  “They will not harm you so long as I am here.”

  “And if you leave?” Farrell’s question drew a loud chuckle.

  “So distrustful.” He closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, Kel smiled. “As you wished, the spells are deactivated. You proved yourself powerful enough to handle what I have stowed here. In the future, should you enter the room, it will recognize you. But be warned—only you may enter unharmed. The spells will not permit you to bring anyone else with you.”

  Farrell almost questioned the rule but stopped when he had a thought. “And the room can discern between me and another?”

  “If you were to bring in another person, he or she had better be very good at defending themselves.”

  “History has not done you justice.” Farrell wished the real Kel stood before him and not an illusion. “It will take a few moments to undo my counterspell. Please be patient.”

  “Since I am a mere animated image, time has no meaning to me. Take as much time as you need.” He gestured about a quarter of the way around the room from the lone door. “I need to take you over there.”

  Farrell moved his staff over a narrow area of the floor. When he’d woven the counterspell, he made it contiguous so it could be more quickly applied. Erasing part of it required a small modification he originally did not have the time to incorporate. Carefully he carved a path through the spell in the direction Kel motioned he was heading.

  “Forgive me, ancestor, but I plan to keep most of my spell in place as a protection in case I did not word my request correctly.”