“I’m going to transmute into a rat, squeeze through the bars, turn back into me again and unlock the grate,” he said in response to the curious looks the others gave him. He winked at Sophia. He swore she blushed.
He closed his eyes and focused. As during his trials, he felt himself begin to shrink until his companions towered over him. The looks of surprise etched on their faces was hilarious. His senses were magnified and the stench of the sewer was overwhelming; although, as a rat, it also smelt appealing. He scurried over to the grate and ran through the bars with ease. Once on the other side, he concentrated. A flash of light and he was once again himself. There was a latch on the grate which he lifted. The grate swung open.
The others walked through, laughing.
“Mother, my affects if you please,” he chuckled.
* * *
They moved through the tunnel without incident until they reach a ladder made of rusty iron rings. Drusilla gave the firestone to her son and told him to hold it high. She then pulled a piece of cloth from her tunic and unfolded it. Upon its surface was a crudely drawn map of Stormglade.
“This ladder will take us out here,” Drusilla explained, pointing to the map.
“The eastern plaza?” Ferran asked.
“Yes. To the north is the main plaza, which is where I think the sigil stone is. To the west is the citadel and docks – it’s there that the Sarpi are keeping their prisoners. We all remember our roles?”
They all nodded.
Luxon and Drusilla would head for the main plaza and seek out the sigil stone. Sophia, meanwhile, would scale one of the tall towers that overlooked the city; from there she would use her bow to provide cover. Kaiden and Ferran had been tasked with freeing the prisoners. If their mission went ill, Luxon would launch a fireball into the sky to signal Faramond and the Keenblade army that had amassed a mile to the east of the city. The tribe’s fake assault would hopefully buy them enough time to slip out of the city undetected.
Ferran climbed the ladder and carefully lifted the iron manhole cover that concealed the tunnel. Slowly, he raised his head out of the hole. The street was empty. He waved for the others to follow and climbed out of the tunnel.
Once above ground he sprinted into an alleyway that led off from the plaza. Kaiden was next and headed in the same direction. Sophia followed. She looked around for a few seconds to get her bearings, then slipped off down a side street which led towards the tower she planned to use as a vantage spot. Drusilla and Luxon brought up the rear. Once out of the hole, Luxon used his magic to move the manhole cover back into place.
They were in.
21.
Ferran and Kaiden moved quickly through the backstreets and alleyways of the city. Whenever they encountered a patrol, they hid in side streets or inside one of the many ruined buildings. Whatever had occurred in the city had left it badly damaged. In one of their hiding spots they were forced to lie next to the skeletal remains of one of Stormglade’s deceased citizens.
As they got closer to the tower housing the prisoners, the sound of metal striking stone became louder. They rounded a corner and skidded to a halt at the scene before them. Where a wide open plaza had once stood there now was a scar in the earth. Thousands of people were chipping away at the ground with iron tools. The place looked more like a mine than a city.
“What are they doing?” Kaiden whispered.
Ferran was about to reply when he spotted a tall, cloaked figure striding through the makeshift mine. The Nightblade narrowed his eyes. Something about the way the figure moved reminded him of something, and it was nothing good.
“C’mon, Drusilla said the prison was a few more streets this way,” he said, before ducking low and moving off.
They heard the prison before they saw it. Inhumane screams echoed out into the cool night air and sent the hairs on their necks standing on end. Kaiden drew his silver sword, whilst Ferran held the hilt of his tourmaline blade tightly.
As they got closer to the prison, other sounds merged with the screams. Cruel, mocking laughter and savage snarls added to the growing sense of dread. They kept to the shadows until they reached the base of the tower.
A fire flickered angrily, casting long shadows onto the surrounding structures. Around the flames stood a group of armed men dressed in black armour and hoods. All of them were drinking.
“Sarpi,” Kaiden muttered as he recognised their attire. Anger surged through him; he longed to unleash his vengeance upon them.
Ferran placed a hand on his friend’s chest to calm him. The last thing they needed was to be spotted too soon. A head-on approach would get them killed; they needed to take the enemy by surprise. They ducked back into the darkness when they heard more voices approaching.
Two people dressed in long black cloaks walked over to the fire. They were not Sarpi, but an old man and a woman. Both wore amulets around their necks.
A wave of dizziness washed over Ferran, almost making him stagger. Kaiden caught him before he did so.
“Those two,” Ferran whispered pointing to the newcomers. “The amulets their wearing, they’re draining my magic.”
“When do we get a turn on that blonde witch then?” growled one of the Sarpi to the amulet wearers.
The old man scowled and said nothing. The woman, however, glared at the Sarpi.
“The people that you are guarding are not for the likes of you. Lord Danon needs them to bolster the ranks of his most devoted followers.”
The Sarpi laughed at the woman’s arrogance.
“No one is more loyal to the master than we Sarpi. You N’gist are nothing but fools seeking to reclaim your lost glories. Hmmm, you’re not bad on the eyes, lady. How about we have a go on you?”
The other Sarpi chuckled at their comrade’s bravado. The woman scowled.
“I suggest you show us some respect; after all, you and your kind are nothing but freaks – the fools who fell to Zahnia.”
The Sarpi stopped their laughing, their hands dropping to their swords.
“Say that name again and I will gut you like a fish, bitch,” the Sarpi snarled.
The woman laughed mockingly.
“Have I touched a nerve?” she giggled. She walked through the group of Sarpi, her hand brushing over their bodies seductively. She smiled mischievously before clapping her hands.
“Come now, I was merely pointing out that you are nothing but the dirt under our master’s boots; that you are nothing but the pathetic victims of Zahnia. We N’gist are his true children.”
The Sarpi trembled with anger. For a brief moment, it appeared as though he would cut down the woman standing in front of him. But then, without another word, he stood aside and allowed the N’gist to pass them.
Ferran and Kaiden waited. Before long, the Sarpi had resumed their drinking.
“Stay here, I need to take a piss,” slurred one of the guards.
“Here’s our chance,” Ferran whispered.
The drunken Sarpi staggered off down the street and passed their hiding spot. Silently, Ferran followed until the drunkard led him down a dark side alley. The Sarpi sighed as he began to relief himself in a ruined doorway. Ferran crept up behind his target.
As the Sarpi was finishing off, the Nightblade pounced. Wrapping his strong arms around the Sarpi’s throat, he squeezed with all of his might. The Sarpi gasped for air and clawed weakly at his arms, but Ferran held on tightly until the fight went out of his quarry.
Quickly, he stripped the Sarpi out of his armour and hastily put it on. Next, he dragged the unconscious Sarpi further down the alley and rolled the body into a ruined cellar. After that, he hurried back up the alleyway to where Kaiden was hiding. He gave him a thumbs up before putting on a drunken stagger and walking towards the other Sarpi guards.
“Took you long enough,” growled the guard who’d had the run in with the N’gist.
“Yeah, well I needed the time to knock out your friend and steal his clothes,” Ferran replied.
The Sarpi’s eyes widened, but the alcohol in his veins slowed his reactions. Ferran whipped out his tourmaline sword and summoned the magical weapon to life.
The deadly blade caught the slowed Sarpi in the throat and sent him staggering backwards. With almost casual grace, Ferran pirouetted on his heel to cut down the other drunken guards.
Kaiden emerged from the shadows, his sword in hand.
“Nice work,” he praised.
Ferran shrugged. “They were drunk; made it too easy,” the Nightblade replied, sounding disappointed. He deactivated the tourmaline blade and tucked it into his belt. “Help me move these. I’ve got a feeling the N’gist won’t be so easy to handle.”
* * *
Drusilla led Luxon through eerily abandoned streets towards the main plaza. The sound of digging grew louder as they approached. Luxon couldn’t shake off an uneasy feeling that had made his skin crawl ever since they exited the sewer. He gripped his staff, Dragasdol, tightly.
No guards had barred their journey and no one had spotted them, despite them moving quickly. But he couldn’t shake off the feeling that things were going far too easily. Drusilla slowed to a stop and looked at her son.
“What’s the matter?” she asked, a hint of impatience in her tone.
Luxon frowned.
“It’s nothing, let’s keep moving.”
Drusilla smiled softly, before taking his hand in hers and moving off once again.
“How do you know where the stone is?” Luxon asked as they walked.
“I … I’m guessing that it is with Danon or on someone close to him. The last time I was here, I spotted a small structure in the plaza. It was heavily guarded by N’gist, so I’m guessing there is something inside that they want to protect.”
They clambered over a pile of rubble which had once been a part of one of the city’s many watch towers. With the tribes being a constant threat, the city had been built with defence firmly in mind. A tattered banner of the merchant kings fluttered in the breeze; the emblem of the sword and scales had been scorched by fire. Once on the other side of the rubble, they found themselves at the top of a narrow cobbled street that led down toward the main plaza.
Cautiously, they crept to the end of the street. Luxon could see the structure that his mother had described. Between them and it were hundreds of miserable-looking prisoners chipping away at the ground with simple iron tools. Stood by the hut was a tall figure, it looked as though it was waiting for something. Of the guards his mother had described, he could see no trace of them.
Drusilla gripped his hand tightly.
“Looks like we’re in luck,” she whispered. “Come on.”
* * *
Something wasn’t right. Sophia was in position at the top of a crumbling tower that overlooked the main plaza. From her vantage point she could see most of the city. Her journey to the tower had been incredibly easy; only once had she been forced to hide from a patrol of Sarpi guards. She looked down at the plaza; where were the guards? She looked over towards the prison tower where Ferran and Kaiden had been heading. Even there, there was a lack of defenders.
Her gaze moved around the edge of the plaza.
She gasped and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up.
Thousands of tiny dots of light shone out from the darkness. All around the edge of the plaza were Sarpi, their eyes glinting in the night. They stood absolutely still in the shadows, weapons in hand as though they were waiting for something. Now that she knew what to look for, she could see just as many black-cloaked figures standing amongst the Sarpi. Again, they stood eerily still.
Her stomach sank as the realisation dawned upon her.
They had walked into a trap.
* * *
Drusilla pulled Luxon after her as she hurried into the plaza. The working prisoners paid them little attention. Now that they were closer, Luxon could see that the prisoners were comprised from folks from all over the kingdom. To his surprise, he even spotted some dark-skinned Yundols among them. He had thought little about the continent across the sea since Eclin, but now he wondered if that land had suffered from Sarpi raids like Delfinnia had.
Luxon stopped and pulled his mother to a halt. He closed his eyes for a moment. The vision from the sigil stone flashed in his mind’s eye. The stone was not in the hut. He opened his eyes again and gasped. His vision blurred as he felt a strange power flow through him. At the far end of the plaza, in a spot that had yet to be worked by the digging prisoners, he saw an object under the stone shining brightly.
“Do you see that?” he asked quietly.
Drusilla looked at him before turning her gaze to where he was looking. She shook her head.
“No, I see nothing …”
“The second stone is over there, buried. I can see it …” Luxon muttered.
He began to walk towards the light. They made it half way across the plaza when the sound of someone clapping loudly halted their steps. They spun around to see that the tall figure they had seen next to the hut was walking straight towards them. As the figure got closer, they could see that it was a man – the man from Luxon’s nightmares. He had long black hair that fell to his shoulders, and even in the dim light they could see that his skin was pale. His most striking feature was his eyes, which glinted red. His skin appeared cracked and marked, as though he was afflicted with some disease. He wore a simple tunic, breaches and boots. Only the black robe around his shoulders gave him away as an N’gist.
“It’s been a long time, Luxon,” the man said in a deep booming voice. A wicked grin was on his face. “The last time we met, you banished my beloved wife, Cliria, to the Void.”
Even though his face was different, Luxon knew that the man was Danon. He stood in front of his mother protectively and pointed his staff at the dark lord.
“Danon … You look different. Not so … skinny” Luxon replied, doing his best to keep the fear he felt out of his voice.
“Yes … well, after Eclin I couldn’t move around as a skeletal corpse now could I?” Danon explained. “I possessed the general Rason and used his body to escape. Unfortunately, that body could not effectively contain my power, so I had to find a replacement. This one was offered to me by Accadus of Retbit. I think it was one of his friends, if I recall.”
He smiled at Luxon. “The young Baron of Retbit is a very good pupil, you know. Far better than you were. With him, I didn’t have to hide the fun bits, like necromancy.”
Luxon and Drusilla backed away slowly. Luxon glanced over his shoulder, and made sure they moved towards the glowing stone.
“So, it is true. Accadus is your puppet.”
Danon threw his head back and laughed.
“He is. And so are you. You have walked right into my trap, just as I had planned. I know that you know where the second sigil stone is.” Danon reached into his cloak and pulled out the sigil stone that had been stolen from Sunguard. “The magic in this stone was easy to crack, but alas – the mage who created it was clever. I saw the vision which led me here, but annoyingly it did not reveal where the second stone was hidden exactly. Only those with the right bloodline can see … only those with the blood of kings in their veins.”
Luxon frowned. His mother had said something similar. He knew the blood of Aljeron, the first wizard, flowed in his veins, but what did he mean by blood of kings?
Danon laughed mockingly at the confusion evident on his face.
“Reunited with your mother after all this time, and she doesn’t tell you?” Danon said sarcastically. “How amusing. Shall I give you two a moment before I make you tell me where the stone is?”
Luxon looked at his mother. Tears were in her eyes.
“Mother?” he asked in confusion.
“Oh for goodness sake! For a wizard, you’re not very bright are you,” Danon sighed, impatience in his tone. “It’s simple: your father was a king. Mother dearest had an affair with King Rendall, and you were the result. Oh, and if you’re wondering, yes – I always
knew.”
Luxon staggered under the weight of the revelation. He shook his head angrily. No, his father had been Garrick Edioz, a noble in King Rendall’s court. As he looked at his mother, and saw the look of shame in her eyes, he knew deep down that what Danon had said was the truth. His whole life had indeed been a lie.
“The blood of Aljeron allowed me to free Cliria,” Danon continued. “Your power allowed me to escape the Void, and now the blood of kings will lead me to the sigil stones and the resting place of Asphodel. You are just too perfect, Luxon. It is a shame that you will not join with me,”
Luxon shook. He felt rage, a rage the likes of which he had never felt before. His skin grew hot as his magic grew in power. Before him stood evil incarnate – the one who had toyed with him, and used him.
“I will never join you,” he shouted.
With a roar, he channelled his rage into Dragasdol and unleashed his power. A blinding flash of lightning erupted from the tip of the staff and smashed with full force into Danon. The dark lord was hurled backwards by the impact and crashed heavily onto the ground. His cloak smoked from where it had caught fire, and steam emanated from his scorched body. Any normal man would have been slain by the attack, but Danon slowly picked himself off the ground, patted out the flames and dusted himself off. And all the while, he chuckled.
“Such anger! I love it!” he yelled joyously.
Luxon narrowed his eyes. With his free hand, he conjured a fireball into existence. “Enjoy this,” he growled.
Thrusting his hand skyward, he launched the ball of magical fire high into the night sky. He then spun around, and smashed the ground at his feet with his staff. The stone cracked open to reveal the second sigil stone. Quickly, he covered his hand with the sleeve of his cloak, grabbed the stone and tucked it into his pocket. He could ill afford a vision now, not with Danon so near.
War for the Sundered Crown (The Sundered Crown Saga Book 2) Page 17
