Shadow of the Knight (The Orb Book 3)

by Matt Heppe

“We came to convince the King of Salador to bring Forsvar and the Orb of Creation to the Dromost Gate. Only a great warrior wielding Forsvar can defeat Gurrat. Only the Orb of Creation can close the gate.”

  “And so it is revealed!” Haran exclaimed. “The trap is set! We will bring them Forsvar and the Orb of Creation!”

  “It is a tall tale,” Braxus said, ignoring Haran’s outburst.

  “Please, could I have some water,” Telea asked. “Free me, please. I can do no harm.”

  “Water,” Braxus said. He waved to one of the guards next to Telea. The man sheathed his sword and headed for the door. Before he could leave Haran said, “Have my apprentice bring my medicine chest. The black one.”

  The guard nodded and departed.

  “I will send men across the East Pass,” Braxus said. “We’ll find out if your story is true.”

  “There’s no time,” Telea said. “And even if there was, you wouldn’t get across the pass. The summoners bound a demon there. Only someone with Forsvar or a chorus of air singers could get past it.”

  “Air singers?”

  “Magic of song,” Sulentis said. “Four voice groups linked with the four elements. Each with its own powers.”

  Telea, despite her circumstances, smiled at the scholar. “You have it right. The Songs of Air can destroy demons.”

  “Could an elementar defeat the demon?” Sulentis asked.

  “If they are as powerful as the legends say they are.”

  Sulentis frowned. “Hmmm.” His expression inspired no confidence in her. “The most powerful elementar in Salador is Crown Prince Handrin, and he’s under the thumb of his mother.”

  “I must speak with the queen,” Telea said. “I must convince her to send her son and Forsvar to Belen.”

  Braxus laughed. “It will never happen. I might doubt you, but she will kill you.”

  “I must try,” Telea said. “You must free me, and let me try.”

  Braxus crossed his arms across his chest. “I don’t see it happening. I’ll send men up the pass to see this demon first. Until then, you’ll remain my prisoner.”

  “There’s no time! The wards will fall, and demons will be loosed upon our world.”

  “You think one woman’s word would be enough to send Forsvar to Belen? You ask too much.”

  The guard returned with a pitcher of water and a horn cup. He filled the cup and held it to Telea’s lips so that she could drink. She drank the entire cup and asked for more.

  As she drank her second cup a young man came through the door. He was burdened by a heavy black case that Haran helped him place on the table before dismissing him. The chest opened from the front. Inside there were shelves of glass jars, some holding liquids, while others held powders or sprigs of plants.

  “Duke Braxus, I am convinced more than ever… more than ever,” Haran said, “that this woman is a summoner. She might even have a demon in her. Let me point out my evidence… solid evidence.”

  Haran held up one finger. “Her skin is black, like the skin of those in the illumination.” He pointed at his heavy tome.

  “There are many—” Telea started.

  “Silence!” Braxus said.

  “She owns a kyre knife, just like a summoner.”

  “Healers also—”

  “Not another word,” Braxus commanded her.

  “Her voice held your men enchanted through the journey here.” He held up a fourth finger. “Her male companion slew inquisitors with his voice. And finally, this tale she tells. Clearly a trap to put Forsvar into the hands of her summoner friends.”

  “And she can explain each of those points,” Sulentis said before Telea attempted to defend herself.

  “Of course she does,” Haran said. “So I say we test her. We make certain she isn’t demon possessed. We drive the demon from her, and her skin will take on a healthy hue.”

  “Which test?” Sulentis asked.

  “We could burn her. The flames will drive the demon from her.”

  “You don’t know anything!” Telea said, not able to restrain herself. “Some demons are made of fire.”

  “And her own words damn her.”

  “I’ve fought demons!” Telea said. “My father died fighting demons!”

  “Is there no other test?” Braxus asked.

  Haran leafed through his book. “There’s another cure. I spoke of hemlock before. Hemlock.”

  “You’ll poison her?” Sulentis said.

  “No. No. No, we’ll poison the demon. We’ll take her blood, mix it with hemlock, and have her drink it. The demon in her will consume the blood, but in doing so shall consume the poison and be destroyed.”

  “You’re mad!” Telea shouted. “What is that book you’re reading?”

  “Won’t the hemlock kill her?” Braxus asked.

  Haran shook his head. “No, my lord. The demon shall consume it.”

  “What if there’s no demon to consume it?” Sulentis asked.

  “There is. There is. And if there isn’t, I shall purge the poison from her.”

  “She won’t die?” Braxus asked. “Even if you’re wrong?”

  “No, my lord.”

  “This is mad,” Sulentis said. “She’s no summoner. There’s no demon in her. The book he’s reading from are the ravings of a madman.”

  “You may conduct your purge,” Braxus said to Haran.

  “Don’t allow it, Duke Braxus,” Sulentis said.

  “Silence!”

  Haran took a small knife and a ceramic bowl from the black case. “Hold her arm still,” he commanded one of the guards. The man sheathed his sword and held her arm against the board. He leaned into it so that no matter how hard she tried to move she couldn’t budge.

  “I’m a healer, not a summoner!” Telea said as Haran approached with his knife. “The kyre knife is a tool of healing!”

  Haran raised the knife and drew it across Telea’s forearm. She cried out in pain as blood welled out and spilled out. He held the bowl under the flow, catching it. “Good, good, good,” he said.

  “The people in the painting are Ashan. My mother’s people are Ethean. They are nothing alike! There are summoners with skin as pale as yours and flame red hair!”

  “Shush! Shush, this will be done soon enough.” He nodded as her blood continued to flow into the bowl. He’d cut her much more deeply than needed.

  “Good, good, good, that’s enough. Release her and hold a bandage against her wound.” He took the bowl of blood and placed it on the table.

  “I don’t have a bandage,” the solider said as Telea’s blood spilled onto the board.

  Haran tossed him a rag. “Use this.”

  Telea winced as the soldier pressed the rag firmly against her wound. “Stop this, please,” she begged.

  “Duke Braxus,” Sulentis said, “the Book of Hakran of Pardassa is filled with mystical potions and delusions. There is no merit to it. There is fine artwork, but that is all it contains of value. There’s no scholarship in it.”

  “Shush, shush,” Haran said. “I’ve been a scholar decades longer than you. You’re just a pup.” He took a vial from his case and dumped half the liquid into the bowl of blood.

  “Is that hemlock extract?” Telea asked.

  “That’s enough to kill a horse,” Sulentis said. “You can’t give her that.”

  “These are demons we’re dealing with,” Haran said, turning back to Telea. He stirred the blood with the point of his knife. “You’ll see. Soon the demon will be banished, and her color will return to normal.”

  “And if it doesn’t? And if she falls ill from your poison.”

  “I will purge the poison then. I’m not wrong.”

  “I won’t drink that!” Telea said as Haran approached.

  “You will. The guards will make sure of it.” He smiled and nodded at them. “Tilt the rack back,” he said. “And then force her mouth open.”

  The guard holding the rag over her wound tied it off and then the two of
them moved to either side of the board that held her. She felt them manipulate some device and the board tilted further backwards.

  “Very good. Now force her mouth open. Don’t worry. It doesn’t all have to go in.”

  Telea thrashed as the men attempted to take hold of her, but with her arms and legs bound there was little she could do. Sulentis shouted something and threw his shackled hands forward. A tremendous blast of air struck Haran, and the bowl of blood went flying. Haran himself tumbled backwards into the table behind him, knocking it over and sending him crashing to the floor.

  “Elementar!” Braxus shouted. He drew his sword but Sulentis threw another blast of wind at him, and he stumbled backwards into a chair and fell. The soldiers beside Telea ran at Sulentis. Now she saw the ethereal glow of song magic gather at his fingertips as he prepared another attack. But before he could launch it, the guard who had been standing behind Sulentis tackled him.

  Sulentis went down hard, with the other two guards jumping on top of him as well. Frantic, Telea looked around for some way she might help. Then she saw the spilled blood on the floor. Her blood.

  She had no choice. Her heart thudded heavily in her chest as she started the Chant of Summoning. She held her voice low and steady and let the chant flow through her. There was no need for pitch or melody.

  She felt the magic working. She felt the dark shadows gathering. This was a dark summoning. A summoner’s summoning.

  There was no time for subtlety or safety. Sulentis fought against the three men attempting to restrain him. If he was subdued, all would be lost. She chanted the vital words and the blood, her blood that had spilled across the floor, smoked and flashed. It burst into flame as a cackling fire imp leapt through the door she’d opened to Dromost’s world.

  The imp, a winged creature of flame the size of a small child, leapt at Haran who was still struggling to recover from falling into the table. He screamed in pain and horror as the imp clung to his head. His hair burst into flame, and his flesh turned black.

  Telea continued to chant, letting through a spiked imp with blades for fingers and jagged spines covering its body. It jumped on Duke Braxus’s back, tearing into his flesh.

  One more and then I will close the door and banish them.

  Another spiked imp came through. It looked hungrily at her, but she changed her chant, commanding it to attack the soldiers fighting Sulentis. For a moment she thought it might not obey, but then it hurled itself at a guard.

  Men screamed in fear as the imps attacked. Haran lay motionless, slain by the fire imp. Braxus twisted and turned, desperate to free himself from the imp gouging his back and biting his neck. A guard tried to fend off a spiked imp with his hands, only to have them shredded. Sulentis was free now, the last of the guards having abandoned him and fled for the door.

  The fire imp turned on her. She’d lost her place in the chant and now it was beyond her control. The blood that fed it was yet to be consumed. Then she saw the blood on the board next to her smoking. Something else was going to come through the door she’d created.

  Telea stopped her chant and sang the Song of Light. She wasn’t an air singer, but still she had the range to touch the magic of the song. The imp leapt at her, but her song washed over it, shredding its corporeal form and banishing it back to Dromost.

  Distracted by the imp, she’d left the door to Dromost open and unguarded. It wasn’t a large portal, but it was wide enough. Something came through. It was a shadow, dark and fast. Telea resumed her chant and slammed the door closed.

  The shadow was on her, trying to enter her through the cut on her arm. Desperate, she reached for the Song of Light. But it wasn’t there. She was too panicked and couldn’t gather her song around her. The demon shadow struggled, and then it was gone.

  Sulentis stood and hurled a blast of wind at the escaping guard. The guard slammed into the closed door and dropped like a stone. Braxus had fallen, as had the other soldier, so that now only Telea and Sulentis remained.

  And the two spiked imps.

  The imps, hungry for more blood, turned on Sulentis. Telea saw the elementar gather the aether to fight them. She drew a sharp breath as he manipulated the aether with his hand and cast a jet of fire that consumed one of the imps. The second leapt at him, but then the burning blood that fed it sputtered and extinguished. With a wailing cry the imp disappeared.

  “You did this,” Sulentis said, motioning to the ruined, dead men around him. “You are a summoner.”

  Telea sagged in her chains. “No, I’m not. I’m a healer. I’ve never done such a thing before.” She choked back a sob. “I’ve broken my most sacred vows.” Braxus groaned from where he lay face down on the floor—his shoulders and the back of his head a bloody red ruin.

  “I had to,” Telea said. “He would have killed me. You saw it—the poison. You stopped him, but then they attacked. I had to. I couldn’t let them destroy my mission. I have to bring Forsvar to the empire. The Dromost Gate must be closed.”

  “More later,” Sulentis said. “We must go now.”

  She sagged as he worked at her shackles. She’d summoned to kill. She’d brought demons into the world. She was one of them now. A summoner.

  You had no choice, a voice said in her head.

  But my vows, she replied. I’ve—

  Her heart pounded, and sudden fear gripped her. The voice was inside her. A demon. The dark shadow that slipped through.

  Your foolish vows would have killed you. You did what you had to.

  She pushed the voice away. Forcing it out of her conscious mind. The demon pushed back, but it was weak and gave way.

  She was unworthy of her calling. She had killed with summoning. She was possessed now. And what of her task? What would she do now? The Saladorans would kill her, and her mission would fail. The Dromost Gate would open, and the world would end.

  Something jerked at her wrist. She opened her eyes as the manacles fell away. “We have to go,” Sulentis said.

  “You’ll help me?”

  “Until I know more. You can’t stay here, though.” He moved to her left and released her other arm. “Is your wound bad? He cut you too deeply.”

  Telea shook her head. “I’ve broken my most sacred vows,” she said, tears streaming down her face. She glanced over at the burned visage of Haran. “I killed by summoning, and now there is something in me. I can feel it.” Her head spun and she felt sick.

  The shadow was in her, hiding deep within. It wasn’t powerful—she felt its fear. Or was it just a trick? Would it come forth and turn her into a raving demon? Would she rampage, killing all those near her before she was finally destroyed with it?

  If it truly was weak, she could drive it off with song. The Song of Light would destroy it or banish it at least. She gathered her song around her but reeled at a stabbing pain in her head before she sang the first word.

  I won’t let you send me back. They’ll consume me.

  Telea recoiled at the voice in her mind.

  Sulentis unlocked her ankles. “If there were guards outside the door, they would have come in. Others will come soon enough, though.” He stood and held his still-fettered arms in front of her. “There’s a pin locking them. Pull it hard.”

  It took her a moment, but she saw the mechanism that worked his manacles. She worked the pin back and forth and then yanked it, and he was free. Sulentis tossed his chains to the floor and then took her arm and gently pulled her away from the board. He looked her in the eyes. She saw compassion in his brown eyes. Finally, someone who would help her. Maybe there was hope.

  Duke Braxus moaned. “He isn’t dead,” Telea said. “I must help him.”

  “Others will come for him. We have to go.”

  “I’m a healer. I can’t just leave him.”

  “You have to. You’ll be killed for what you’ve done.”

  “A healer cannot kill…must never kill.” She sagged lower and would have fallen to the floor again if he hadn’t held her up. What
had she done?

  “It’s done now. We must flee.” Supporting her by her arm, he led her to the door.

  Sulentis dragged the unconscious guard from where he lay blocking the door. The man moaned but barely stirred. “Ready?” Sulentis asked. “We might have to fight our way free.”

  “I can’t fight.”

  “You just—”

  “I won’t. Never again. Never.” She glanced back at the burned and bloody men behind her and then quickly turned back to the door. A haze of sulfurous smoke floated in the room. She’d smelled the smell before… the smell of Dromost and demon summoning.

  “Then stay close, and listen to me.” He pulled open the door. “It’s clear,” he said, before stepping into a dark hallway lit only by a single lantern. He shut the door when she joined him.

  “Come along,” he said. “We have to find a window.”

  “Why?”

  “So we can jump.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Orlos stood beside Fendal as he pressed his hands against the tunnel ceiling and did some unseen elementar magic. The man frowned, beads of sweat dripping from his forehead. At last, he gasped and lowered his arms.

  “It’s too dangerous,” he said. “It will collapse if we keep digging.”

  Orlos held his lamp up and examined the rubble blocking the passage. They’d made so much progress. How could they stop now? They were close, he knew it. “Can’t you use your elementar magic and fuse the stones so that they don’t fall?”

  “I don’t have that kind of strength,” Fendal said. He snorted. “Now that I’ve been revealed as an elementar, I wish I had that kind of strength. It might be worth it.”

  “You can’t do anything?”

  Fendal gave him a dark look. “I think that’s what I just said. Look, I can do a little, but nothing like you need here. Working with stone is the most difficult of elemental magic. It could take me months to go a dozen strides.”

  Despair welled up in Orlos. Months. I don’t have months. “We’ll have to keep digging and shoring it up as we go.”

  Fendal shook his head. “Even that might not be safe. There are tons of stone above you. You’re better off looking for another tunnel. Or digging a new one entirely.”