“Silence!” Mordora shoved her hand toward Vixen, shooting a blast of magic at her.
Vixen squeezed her eyes shut and braced herself, ready for impact that would send her flying back.
Nothing happened.
Surprised, Vixen hesitated but soon opened her eyes as she stared at her chest. The vest of black blades Lorrek had given her were no longer black but swirled with bright colors. Vixen furrowed her brows. She didn’t understand. “What...?”
Mordora stared at her, just as surprised. She looked at her hand as if the magic had disobeyed her, but then she shot Vixen another glare, lifted both hands towards the assassin, and began muttering something.
Not liking the sound of the spell being muttered, Vixen shook her head. “Oh no you don’t...” But before she could finish, the magic in her vest blasted out from her toward Mordora with such power that Vixen arched her back.
The blast tore through the woods and slammed into Mordora, throwing her back into a tree. She hit the tree hard then collapsed to the ground with a grunt. Then she heard footsteps and lifted her head, expecting to see Vixen standing over her, but instead she saw Rykeldan standing there and shaking his head.
“Did you not notice her vest? It is of the unique but cursed metal which was used to create the handblades of the thymords.” Rykeldan looked over his shoulder at Vixen, who didn’t seem to notice him. Instead she remained on guard but looking at Mordora with concern and leeriness. “Those blades absorb any magic and will unleash it if its master is in danger, as she very well demonstrated. Quite curious, if you were to ask me.”
“Mordora, stand down,” Vixen warned. “I have no desire to hurt you, but if you leave me no choice, I will defend myself.” She tightened her grip on the blade in her hand.
“You are in my way!” Mordora hissed through clenched teeth then sent another blast of magic toward Vixen.
“Enough!” Lorrek suddenly appeared and stepped between Vixen and Mordora and caught Mordora’s magic with his good hand. He looked at it, at how it spiked and sparked but was entirely unstable, and he narrowed his eyes then closed his fist, extinguishing the power. He then looked at Mordora with feverish eyes, and he could see Rykeldan standing there as well, but in the spirit only.
Theran and the thymords caught up with them and recognized the threat. All of them stood guard but waited for Lorrek to make the first move. Theran wasn’t quite sure what had happened. One moment Lorrek was twisting and turning and muttering in his sleep, and the next he was gone—having magicked himself elsewhere.
For a moment Theran had stared in shock at the place where Lorrek had been before he realized what had happened and used his computer to track down his brother, who thankfully hadn’t gone too far. He wondered why Lorrek had magicked because he had told them it was dangerous to do with any broken bones, but now was not the time to ask such questions. He would have to wait until later. For now, he watched his little brother closely for any indication that he should strike out at Mordora.
Lorrek fixed his blazing eyes on the princess of Nirrorm, and there was little tenderness in him. “You will stand down, Princess Mordora, or I will break you.”
“You can’t do that!” She gave a chuckle but then gasped and gripped the sides of her head when Lorrek gestured with his hand, and pain pierced through her skull. She cried out and sank to her knees. “What are you doing?!”
Lorrek remained unmoved and cold. “I unlocked your magic. I trained you. You have very little understanding of magic.”
She seethed and scowled up at him. “I have more training than you know!” She moved to blast him, but again Lorrek gestured, breaking her concentration by sending her more pain in her head.
Lorrek looked unimpressed. “With Roskelem? He was corrupted. With Rykeldan? He is mad.” Lorrek shifted his gaze to where the ghost of Rykeldan stood observing the entire event unfolding, and he could tell the kelliph was mildly impressed. Lorrek narrowed his eyes then looked back at Mordora. “You. Will. Sleep.”
“No!” That was all Mordora managed to say before she succumbed to unconsciousness and collapsed in a heap on the ground.
Rykeldan stared down at Mordora then shifted his gaze to Lorrek and smiled. “Well played.”
Lorrek almost growled. “Be gone!” And he blasted magic in Rykeldan’s direct, only for it to pass through him and strike a distant tree. Although the kelliph remained untouched, Lorrek’s actions were enough to make Rykeldan disappear, and this caused Lorrek to sigh in relief.
But then everything that had just happened came down upon him, shocking him, and Lorrek gasped twice before he too collapsed, unconscious.
While Vixen hastened to Lorrek, and Theran went to stand between Mordora and them, the thymords finally caught up with them. Draben shared a look with Reven then looked at the others. “Um...what just happened?”
“He must have sensed Vixen was in danger and magicked straight to her. I don’t even know if he woke up or just reacted,” Theran answered as he watched Vixen turn Lorrek over to make sure he didn’t further injure his arm, but Theran wondered if the mere act of magicking had done more damage than they could see. They could only wait until he woke before they knew for certain.
However, they had another issue at hand, and he turned to Mordora. She was a threat and needed to be neutralized immediately, but Theran looked at his hands and frowned then cast a glance at Vixen only to find her busy, so he reluctantly looked at the thymords. As much as he preferred not to call on their help, he had no other choice. “We need to tie her up. I can’t touch her without breaking her bones.”
Reven gave Draben a look but then nodded and went to the princess of Nirrorm. She grabbed handcuffs off her belt, reached for Mordora’s hand, and pinned them behind her back before cuffing them. That’s when she noticed the bracelet on Mordora’s wrist. It was the bracelet of Rykeldan! She shot Draben a look then nodded at the bracelet, but she decided not to do anything right now. At least they knew where it was. They would get it off when they were alone with Mordora. Otherwise, Reven wasn’t certain these people would let them keep the bracelet. She’d seen how King Heldon had refused to surrender the handblades and World Orbs. Instead, Reven situated Mordora and asked, “So what’s her issue?”
“That’s Princess Mordora of Nirrorm,” Theran answered. “I only saw her briefly a year ago, and before then, it had been over a decade since I last interacted with her. When I knew her, she had no magic, but...” He then motioned toward her. “Obviously things have changed.”
“So now what?” Draben crossed his arms. “He’s unconscious. She’s unconscious. Do a lot of people go unconscious around the two of you, or is this just a unique occurrence?” He raised his brows, but Vixen rolled her eyes as she rose to her feet.
She didn’t have the patience to deal with him. “For now, we’re going to settle in and wait until they become conscious.”
“What if she regains consciousness before he does?” Reven motioned from Mordora to Lorrek.
Theran shook his head. “He cast a sleeping spell over her. She’s not going to wake until he lifts it himself, so that means he will wake up first.”
“Before that though, his fever needs to break.” Vixen picked up the strip of cloth she had dropped when Mordora attacked her, and she went back to the stream to soak it again. Wringing it out, she returned to Lorrek and applied the wet cloth to his forehead and then to his neck.
Theran watched her tend to Lorrek. She was preoccupied, so he wouldn’t pull her from her task. He looked at the thymords and narrowed his eyes. He didn’t trust them. He wasn’t sure what they were after, but he wanted to keep them at a distance until Lorrek woke. “You two,” he approached them, who were near Mordora. “I want you keeping watch on both sides of camp. I’ll keep watch over her.” He motioned to Mordora.
Reven thinned her eyes as she looked up at him. “She’s wearing a relic of the thymords. I’m not about to let it out of my sight.”
“She’s not goin
g to wake any time soon, and even if she did, what would you do about it?” Theran tilted his head to a side.
“The handblade has proven itself well against any kind of magic.” Reven lifted her hand to reveal the bracelet on her wrist, but Theran shook his head again.
“If she woke, you might not have time to respond. However, if I’m keeping watch, if she tries so much as to move, I will grab her arms and thus break both of them...just like I did to Lorrek.” He jutted his chin over his shoulder at his little brother. “She won’t be able to heal herself, and Lorrek may or may not heal her. This would force her to submit until we have a better handle on the situation. However...” He rose to his full height and crossed his arms. “If you have a better solution, then by all means, speak.”
Reven shifted her jaw. They were this close to the bracelet, and they needed the opportunity to attempt to remove it without the watching eyes of these two strangers. However, it seemed Theran wished to keep them far from the bracelet, and she wasn’t about to allow that. She crossed her arms. “Very well. Draben will keep watch, but I will stay here watching over Princess Mordora with you.”
“Why do I have to keep watch?” Draben protested, but everyone ignored him.
Reven kept her gaze on Theran and offered him a brief though humorless smile. “That way if she wakes, and your strategy doesn’t work, mine will.” She then moved to sit on the ground beside Mordora.
Theran didn’t appreciate his authority being overruled, but this was a compromise he could work with, so he lowered himself on the other side of Mordora and settled in for a long watch.
Draben watched the two get comfortable on the ground and he shook his head. Why did he always get the boring tasks?
16
Anelm walked through the forest, following the glowing orbs she’d conjured for light and to guide her to Lorrek. She’d been walking for hours now. Earlier she came across Dustal and Aradin, who’d said they had been sent by Lorrek to protect Radella, Skelton, and someone named Jaegar. They asked if she was well. After reassuring them that she was safe, she watched them go and went on her way. This gave her time to assess the situation.
Ever since she left the cave, she was deeply troubled and had much to contemplate. She knew much of the history of the kelliphs. It was said that the Athorians were descendants of the kelliphs, but their blood had been very tainted because it had been a thousand years since the last full-blooded kelliph came to Athorim. The kelliph blood was always dominant over many human physical traits, and this allowed the descendants to retain the appearance of their kelliph ancestors pale skin, ashen blond hair, and golden eyes. Legends said the kelliphs were taller than humans, but the descendants were now closer in size to humans. And of course, over time the descendants used tainted magic, which changed their hair from blond to black if they used too much.
Anelm reflected on her time in the dungeons of Serhon when Lorrek had also been imprisoned with her. He had asked her to clarify the difference between pure magic and tainted magic, and she had given him a simplified explanation—though it wasn’t completely true. She hadn’t wanted to tell him of the kelliphs, who they were, where they came from, and the history Athorim had with them. It was complicated, and at that the time the conversation, it hadn’t been the right time for him to have such knowledge.
The difference between pure magic and tainted magic came down to the different bloodlines of the Athorians. That was why all others of the world were born with tainted magic. They were completely human, without a trace of the kelliph race in their veins. If one trait of the kelliphs had remained intact after all this time, it was their pride, and the Athorians were a very prideful people. All the surrounding kingdoms regarded Athorim as a safe haven—pure and untainted, and the Athorians relished that reputation. None wished to blemish it. But their magic was human magic, and it would taint their appearances. They countered this by casting glamour spells upon themselves so they would forever appear as majestic as their ancestors, the kelliphs.
Anelm preferred not to use magic although King Roskelem had forced her to during her time in Serhon. It had scarred her, and that was why she walked through these woods now instead of magicking herself ahead. She liked the time it allowed her to think and prepare her for whatever might lie ahead.
She still wasn’t sure if her plan would work, but the only thing she could do was try.
“Stop!”
Anelm halted when she heard the command, and she raised her hands, but then she saw a familiar person through the forest. “Prince Kinnard?” Anelm noticed a Jechorian Guardian beside him with her rifle aimed on her. She raised her hands to pacify the Guardian then focused on the prince of Talhon. “Why are you here?”
“We were sent by Lorrek,” Zoyra explained, pulling her helmet off and tucking it under her arm.
Frowning, Anelm wondered why Lorrek was sending so many people through the woods. “Where is Lorrek?”
“Further back,” Kinnard answered, gesturing behind them.
Anelm narrowed her eyes and clenched her fists. “I need to find him.”
“And he needs your help. He was injured when he left the cave.” Zoyra informed her. “Theran accidentally broke his arm. He was fine at first, but now it’s infected. He’s unwell and needs you to heal him. Can you magick us back to him?”
Anelm shook her head. “Nay—not without more knowledge of this place, but there is something else I can do. However, it requires a lot of concentration. I need to go into the magic realm. This will make me vulnerable...”
“We’ll keep watch and protect you,” Kinnard reassured her. “Do what you have to.”
Nodding her thanks, Anelm lowered herself to the ground and then slipped into the magic realm to search for Lorrek.
While she was preoccupied, Zoyra cast Kinnard a look. “Do you think this will work?”
The prince shrugged. “I have no idea.”
The two stared into the darkness of the woods around them, listening to the chirping of the insects. They stood guard on opposite sides of Princess Anelm and waited. They weren’t sure what they were waiting for.
“So what were—” Zoyra said at the same time Kinnard said, “You said you’re...”
Both trailed off and shared a look when they interrupted each other.
“You first.” Kinnard motioned to Zoyra.
“You are a prince. You go first.”
“You are a lady, and ladies should go first.” He smiled at her, and she narrowed her eyes but then looked away from him, trying to remember what her question had been.
Once she recalled it, she nodded to herself then glanced back at Kinnard. “So what were you doing with a bunch of bandits? That’s unlikely company for a prince to keep.”
Kinnard chuckled and nudged a pebble with the toe of his boot. “The bandits and I have a unique understanding. At Radella’s request, I offered them pardon if they would assist her in her plans. When they did, I followed through with my part of the agreement, and it resulted in some...unlikely allies.” Then he shot Zoyra a look. “Besides, we were all running from Mordora. Might as well band together.” Now it was his turn to ask her a question. “So you’re from Jechorm. I can tell by your armor and your weapons.”
Zoyra looked down at her armor, then at the rifle in her hand, and then she shrugged. “I think it’s strange that this technology is unknown to the rest of the world. I don’t understand how you can live in such a backward society.” She shook her head. “It seems very...inconvenient.”
“Well, as someone who’s only lived in this manner of life...” Kinnard shrugged. “It’s practical.” He settled to sit on the ground near Anelm. He had a good view of what was east of them—as good as he could see at night. He cast his gaze to Zoyra, who settled on a log on the opposite side of Anelm and began inspecting her weapon.
Kinnard was curious about her and her kind. He had met some representatives from Jechorm, but Talhon had had very few dealings with that kingdom. None of the ambassado
rs were like Zoyra with her armor and weapons. “I know Prince Theran is from Cuskelom, yet he wears armor similar to yours. Why is that? He is not from Jechorm.”
Zoyra chuckled. “You are right, but before I can explain that to you, you must understand. I was part of an operation called the Guardian Program. The two in charge of it were Asalda and Pelham. It’s my understanding that Theran came to them last year, and they persuaded him to put on that armor.”
Sensing something important remained unspoken, Kinnard furrowed his brows. “But something happened?”
“The suit was the next generation of armor like my own.” She gestured to her armor. “But it was made to conform to the individual’s body in a way that the armor itself would never need to be removed.” She paused and stared off into the distance. “This was their way of trying to keep us believing we were no more than technology...” she mused but trailed off, deep in thought.
Realizing she had gotten off topic, Zoyra snapped out of her thoughts and offered Kinnard an apologetic smile before continuing, “But now Theran can’t remove the armor, and due to the specific ability of that suit, which is to break anything it touches, no one can get him out of it either. So he’s been stuck, only able to remove his helmet...and maybe a few other...essential parts.” But Zoyra wasn’t sure how it worked, and she didn’t want to dwell on it. Instead, she suddenly found her weapon was of great interest, making sure it was clean and ready to shoot.
Kinnard observed how she had fallen silent. He found all this bewildering and knew he didn’t fully grasp what all she was saying. However, since she seemed willing to answer questions, he went on to ask, “Are there others of you?” When she sent a quizzical glance, he motioned to her as if indicating to her armor. “Others who were in that Guardian Program?”
A smile cracked across Zoyra’s features, and she laughed. “Oh yes, there were hundreds of us.”
“Were?”
She nodded, turning the gun over in her hands. “Many of them died in the Battle of Cuskelom. Others retired from the Program afterwards. I’m one of the few who has actually remained employed, although management has changed.”
The Chronicles of Lorrek Box Set Page 90
