Shadow of the Knight (The Orb Book 3)

by Matt Heppe

He frowned. “Me? What could I do?”

  “You’re spiridus…is there some magic you could do?”

  He stared at her, long enough for her to feel uncomfortable at his gaze. “I see it. It glows with the same aura of the stone. The demon in you wields the same magic used to summon and trap the spiridus. But I don’t know what I could do against it.”

  Telea sighed. “The demon has only helped me so far. And the only power it has over me is to stop me from ridding myself of it. I think…I hope I have time.” She glanced around. “I beg of you, don’t tell anyone what you know. They won’t understand.” When he nodded, she said, “Come, let’s see where Sulentis is.”

  “I don’t like seeing it in you,” he said as they walked to the stairway leading down to the tunnels. There were a dozen Landomeri there, all at work. Some hauled rubble up the stairs, while carpenters cut support beams. It was clear they were digging through the remaining obstructions below.

  Kael approached and put his hand on Orlos’s shoulder. “How are you? I’m glad to see you about.”

  “Much better. Not as strong as I would like.”

  “He’ll be tired for a day or so, but his strength will come back,” Telea said. “Are you Orlos’s father?”

  Kael stood upright in surprise. “What? No! Well, I raised him as my own.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said to Orlos. “I didn’t know your father had died.”

  “I, ah…” Orlos trailed off.

  “You don’t know?” Kael asked.

  Telea shrank back, realizing she had said something wrong. “I’m sorry. I don’t know.”

  “My mother was…attacked by a Saladoran noble,” Orlos said. “Orlos the Spiridus saved her life—he healed her—but he died in the process. During the healing, he put his spirit into me.”

  Telea understood the scars now. Poor Maret. With Orlos dying and Maret a willing recipient, the spiridus had easily transferred itself from one body to the other.

  “Hadde slew the baron who did it,” Kael said. “She put fifteen arrows into him.”

  “I’ve heard of her. She slew Akinos the Betrayer.”

  “She’s the most famous Landomeri in the world.”

  “She’s part of the Great Spirit now,” Orlos said. “I see her wandering the forest.”

  “I saw her as well,” Telea said. “She told me you needed help. That’s why we rushed to your aid.”

  “Truly? She showed herself to you?” Orlos asked, clearly surprised. “What did she look like?”

  “A beautiful lady clothed in light.” Telea said, knowing he was testing her. “Sulentis told me some of her story. I’d like to hear more.”

  “It isn’t an entirely happy story,” Kael said. “I’ll tell you of it later. Maret won’t want to hear it again, though.”

  Telea nodded. She had her own story to tell, and it wasn’t a happy one either. It was also a story that could get much worse. “Is Sulentis here? Has he gone down to the chamber?”

  “He has,” Kael said. “He and the elementar, Fendal, are down there helping to clear the passage.”

  “Have they gone to the red stone?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “I want to go down,” Telea said. “They shouldn’t approach the stone without me. I understand the magic that was used to create it.”

  “I’ll take you down.” He glanced at Orlos. “Are you coming as well?”

  “Yes,” Orlos said. “I wasn’t in a good state when I was there before. I want to see the spiridus.”

  “Very well then,” Kael said. They followed two workers with empty rubble baskets and descended into the tunnel. It was clearer now, Telea saw, and brass lanterns had been hung along the walls. No blockages remained but for the final one.

  Sulentis was there, with another man. The two men looked related, both tall and gangly, with the same large, brown eyes and dust covered beards. Both had black bags under their eyes and shoulders stooped in fatigue. They were in close conversation with two Landomeri holding hammers and iron rods.

  Sulentis saw them and smiled. He stepped closer. “Orlos, how are you?” he asked.

  “Much better,” Orlos said. “They say I owe you my life. You as well, Fendal. You cleared a path to me.” Orlos spoke quietly, and he seemed withdrawn and shrunken in. “I didn’t even know you were an elementar.”

  “I thought it safest to keep certain things secret,” he said with a shrug and a smile. “Lady Wenla helped as well.”

  “And here I thought I was the most powerful elementar in Landomere,” Fendal said. There was no humor in his voice.

  “Telea, thank you again for all you have done,” Sulentis said. “I almost sent for you but thought you might need more rest.”

  “How can I help?” she asked, although she knew the answer. Before he could reply, she said, “Would you like a song?”

  He closed his mouth. “We could use one,” he said. “The tunnel is almost cleared, but Fendal and I are at the end of our strength.”

  “It could be cleared by mining,” Fendal said, glowering at Sulentis.

  “It’s good for you to stretch your skills,” Sulentis said. “You’ll grow into your magic.”

  “I told you that I’m finished. I’ve wasted myself for the day.”

  Sulentis winked at Telea. “You only think you’re finished, Fendal. I think you’ll find that you have more left. Come.” He waved for Telea to follow. The miners moved aside as Telea and the two elementars approached the nearest obstruction.

  Telea hummed her voice clear and then began the Song of Hope. Her voice wasn’t what it should be. She needed more time for it to recover. Still, the aura of her song spread around her, and she sent it out to Sulentis and Fendal.

  Telea smiled as Fendal’s mouth opened in surprise at the touch of her magic. Sulentis clapped him on the shoulder and said something to him that Telea couldn’t hear. The two elementars went forward to a large stone and placed their hands upon it. Telea saw the glow of music around their hands as they sent their magic into the rock.

  Despite the strain on her voice, Telea pushed herself into her song, increasing its strength and pouring its vitality into the two elementars. She saw the strain in their shoulders and arms, and then the stone shattered. Dust filled the hall, and Telea’s song ended in a fit of coughing.

  With a flick of Sulentis’s hand, the motes of dust fell like heavy snow to the floor, and the air was clear. The stone had been reduced to rubble.

  “There’s magic in your voice,” Fendal said. “I heard it. I saw it.”

  “The long lost magic of song is not so long lost in Belen,” Sulentis said. He walked forward over the rubble and into the chamber beyond. Fendal and Telea followed him.

  The blood crystal still glowed under the emerald green canopy above. A sea of skeletons surrounded the spiridus prison. Lantern light glowed around Telea as Landomeri entered the chamber behind her.

  “These… these were the spiridus?” Fendal asked.

  Sulentis shook his head. “These are their mortal remains. Their spirits are trapped in the red crystal.”

  “Not in the red crystal,” Telea said. “They are in Dromost. The crystal is a gate.”

  “But what was this place?” Fendal asked. “What is that broken tree?”

  “I’ve read of the Emerald Tree,” Sulentis said, “but I never knew what it meant. It was sacred to the spiridus.”

  They made their way forward, closer to the bloodstone, careful not to tread upon any of the bones filling the chamber. Telea felt the malevolence of the stone as she got closer. If anything, it was more terrifying now, without her first thinking of how to rescue Orlos.

  She glanced back at him. He was hanging well behind them. Orlos saw her looking back at him, and he waved her forward. Behind him more Landomeri trickled into the chamber.

  Telea stopped ten paces from the crystal stump. She saw shadows flitting through the crystal, as if seen through thick glass. “Can you free them?” Sulentis asked.<
br />
  Telea regarded the stone. “No. Breaking the magic that binds them is beyond me.”

  “To free the spiridus would be a wonderful thing,” Sulentis said. “It would be an amazing feat to bring Helna’s children back to the world.”

  Orlos and two Landomeri came up behind them. One, an older broad shouldered man, the other a small grey-haired lady who walked with a limp but who still stood tall. “It’s safe to be here, Sulentis?” the man asked.

  “It is, as long as you don’t touch the stone,” Telea said.

  “I saw you last night, healer,” the woman said, regarding her. “You worked powerful magic. None of us could have saved young Orlos.”

  “I would have been drawn into it,” Orlos said. “I can feel it pulling me even now.”

  “Don’t come closer, Orlos,” Telea said, “but if the pull gets too strong to resist, I can protect you.”

  The woman took Orlos’s hand. “We won’t let you go.”

  “Telea, this is Enna and her husband Arno,” Orlos said. “They are Hadde’s parents.”

  “It’s an honor to meet you. I want to hear her story,” Telea said. “She sounds like an amazing person.”

  “She is,” Enna said. “She’s still with us, in spirit.”

  Arno nodded towards the stone. “It’s possible to bring the spiridus out from there?” he asked.

  “There’s magic in Belen—the magic of song. It can break the blood magic that has trapped the spiridus. It will take many singers, though.”

  “Do we need to be in here?” Enna asked. “I cannot bear this place. The remains of the spiridus must be put to rest.”

  Arno nodded. “You’re right, Enna. They should be put to rest in the forest.” He looked back to Telea. “You can bring singers here? Would they break the bonds?”

  “They would come if they could, but the pass is blocked. And there is a great danger to the world that must be defeated first.”

  “We can get you through the pass,” Sulentis said.

  “It won’t be enough,” Telea said. “The singers won’t come until the Dromost Gate is closed. That is our greatest concern.” She felt ill at ease speaking for the Great Choir. She had no authority to do so. She had no right to make promises.

  It is good, her demon said. Make them promise to help you in return for freeing the spiridus. Her demon was bolder now, as if it realized the red stone could do it no harm.

  “Let’s not speak of our plans in this place,” Sulentis said. “We should return to the light of the sun.”

  They left the chamber. Arno gave instructions that no more people should enter and that they should start making plans for the burial of the spiridus’ remains.

  Out in the daylight again, Sulentis led them to a garden set with a ring of stones. He bade them all be seated. In addition to those who had been in the chamber, Escalan and Kael joined them, as did Maret.

  “A few days ago,” Sulentis began, “I met Telea of the Empire of Belen. It wasn’t in a manner either of us would have preferred. I’d been captured attempting to rescue the last remaining elementar I knew of in Del-Oras. Telea had been taken by Duke Braxus’s men who were in pursuit of the elementar I was trying to save.

  “Unfortunately, one of Duke Braxus’s advisors considered himself a scholar and expert on all things eastern. He believed Telea to be a demon, and proceeded to put her through a series of tests to examine the validity of his hypotheses. I would call it torture.”

  Telea glanced over to Orlos and saw him staring at her. She gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile and turned her attention back to Sulentis.

  “Telea used her magic, the magic of her voice, to free herself. During the escape, several men were slain, maybe even Duke Braxus.” At these words, everyone in the circle turned their attention to her.

  “Telea’s magic can kill?” Maret asked.

  “The magic of song is powerful,” Telea said. “My magic is better suited for healing. I had a companion, slain by inquisitors, whose voice was a physical force. A force that could kill.”

  Someday she would tell them, but not now. How would they react if they knew she had summoned demons? At the moment Sulentis seemed willing to keep her secret. Orlos as well, although he seemed less willing.

  “In our escape,” Sulentis said, “it became necessary for me to reveal myself as an elementar. No longer can I go back to my task of finding and rescuing elementars.”

  “Are there more?” Fendal asked.

  “There are but not that I know of. I’d have to do more research—research that must now wait. Telea, can you tell them of the threat facing us?”

  Telea nodded and took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. Another chance to tell her story, but this time to people who might help her. It was not the embassy she had hoped for—they didn’t have the Orb of Creation or Forsvar—but it was a start.

  And so she told her story, almost word for word the same story she’d told Sulentis, Duke Braxus, and Haran. All stared at her, giving her their rapt attention. Only after she finished did someone speak.

  “You’ve seen this?” Arno asked. “You’ve seen the gate?”

  “No,” she said. “We know of it only from summoners who, like Shulazar, have seen the danger. A little over a year ago the summoners launched a war against the Empire of Belen. They launched this war because they feared the imminent failure of the gate. They wanted to overrun the Empire and then come to Salador.”

  “Why?” Fendal asked. “Why would they do this when they feared an imminent invasion from Dromost?”

  “Because they needed the Orb of Creation,” Sulentis said. “That, or Forsvar.”

  Telea nodded. “The summoners were divided. Some wished for war, some wanted to negotiate and ask for help, while others, fanatics, wished to open the Dromost Gate. When they realized they couldn’t win the war, they sent an embassy, and a treaty was negotiated. The summoners who wanted peace convinced the emperor that he must send a mission to Salador to ask for help. They were desperate for help. They’re certain the gate is poised to fail.

  “Unfortunately, the summoners who accompanied us turned against us. They summoned powerful demons and slew most of our embassy. Only two of us made it through.”

  “How did they summon a demon when the gate is closed?” Fendal asked.

  “Demons can be summoned through blood magic and chanting but that magic cannot hold them here long. They are drawn back to Dromost when the blood that summoned them is consumed. A demon that comes through the gate has no such compulsion. It can stay.”

  Telea thought better than to tell them of possession—that a summoned demon could stay if it found a host.

  Sulentis stood. “I believe Telea. I’ve studied the Ancient Texts in the Library of Sal-Oras. Telea’s story rings true.”

  “Or it’s an elaborate trap meant to draw both the Orb of Creation and Forsvar into Belen.”

  Telea was about to object when Sulentis cut her off. “What choice do we have but to investigate? But you are right. We must go into this with open eyes.”

  Arno crossed his arms over his broad chest. “And we are to believe that, once your mission is successful, you will bring singers back to Landomere to release the spiridus?”

  “They will come,” Telea said.

  “That’s all very well,” Kael said, “but Queen Ilana holds Forsvar, and the varcolac, Cragor, bears the Orb of Creation. All your plans are just dreams.”

  “Ilana will never let Forsvar leave her side,” Maret said. “She’s mad.”

  “Not mad,” Sulentis said. “She’s afraid. Her life is ruled by fear. That’s why she does what she does.”

  “Whatever the case might be,” Maret said. “She won’t give up the Godshield.”

  “Then we will have to take it from her,” Sulentis said.

  Laughter and the shaking of heads met his words. “Good luck, scholar,” Fendal said.

  “He can do it,” Kael said.

  Sulentis gave him a
sharp look.

  “You weren’t going to tell them?” Kael asked.

  Escalan stood and took a protective step in front of Sulentis. Sulentis put a hand on his arm and restrained him.

  “Tell us what, Kael?” Maret asked.

  Kael stood. “You’ve all heard that the inquisitors were told not to kill any more male elementars, haven’t you? No? Well she has. There’s more to it. I recently received word from Salador that the Crown Prince has gone missing. He’s been gone for quite some time. He and his valet at arms.”

  All eyes turned on Sulentis. He shrugged. “I couldn’t let them die,” he said. “Mother feared the elementars and ordered them all killed. How could I let her do that? They’re my relatives, every one.”

  “You’re Prince Handrin?” Maret said, incredulous. Her brows furrowed as she peered at him.

  Sulentis nodded. “I’m Crown Prince Handrin. This is my friend, and valet at arms, Rayne.” He put his hand on Escalan’s shoulder.

  “But I know you. I’ve met you,” Maret said. “Before, I mean. At court.”

  “Seventeen years is a long time,” Sulentis said. “You know Rayne as well, although he was only a stable boy back then. He became Champion Nidon’s page.”

  “Puddle?” Maret’s jaw dropped. “Hadde saved you at the Battle of King’s Crossing. She told me of you.”

  “It was a long time ago,” Escalan said, “but I remember that moment well.” He paused to laugh. “Puddle. I haven’t heard that name in a long time.”

  “Now I understand how you are such a powerful elementar,” Fendal said, taking a knee. “I apologize for being curt with you previously. I am at your service, Prince Handrin. What do you command?”

  “Rise, Lord Fendal. You have nothing to apologize for. And as to what I shall do…I shall go to Sal-Oras and take Forsvar from my mother,” Sulentis said. He looked around the circle. “I’ll need help.”

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Orlos hugged his mother close to him. “We’ll be careful,” he said, maybe for the hundredth time. “And we’ll return soon.”

  “You’ll be careful?” His mother was crying. “You’re going to steal Forsvar from the most powerful person in the world. How can you tell me you’ll be careful?”