Chaos Raging (The Five Kingdoms Book 11)

by Toby Neighbors

  The wounded were being taken to the Keep’s Grand Hall, which wasn’t all that grand. Most cities had a feasting hall of some type, but the Keep was not made like other communities. It was a fortress first, with thick walls and rooms that were designed for fighting, not feasting. But there was still a smallish hall on the ground floor where the duke and his officers could feast. There were dozens of wounded and Zollin knew he could do the most good using his power to heal. The pendant around his neck was thrumming with power as he hurried into the hall.

  The gargoyles were incredibly strong and had long claws that were as deadly as daggers, but by far the most common injury was broken bones. Some of the soldiers that were snatched up by the gargoyles managed to break free before they were carried so high that the fall killed them. Others had been impacted by the creatures themselves and the blows were devastating.

  Zollin’s magic jumped into action, flowing into man after man, mending bones and sealing up cuts. The young wizard didn’t take the time to remove fluid from swollen tissue. He had to work quickly, getting the soldiers back to fighting strength then sending them out to make room for more. The effort felt to Zollin like a slow jog, taxing, but not exhausting. His mind was completely focused on healing two deep lacerations in one man’s back when he was roughly grabbed up and pulled from the hall.

  “What?” Zollin shouted. “What’s going on?”

  The men who had taken hold of Zollin were strong, their hands clamping down on his arms as they dragged him backwards from the room and out into the wide courtyard that served as the main entrance to the Keep. Zollin could have blasted them with magical energy, or ripped their hands from his arms, but he didn’t want to hurt the soldiers. Instead he did his best to keep up with them even though he was forced to walk backwards with his arms held at odd angles.

  In the courtyard two large fires were burning, casting the open space into a wavering, yellow light. Zollin was spun around and pushed to his knees in the frozen mud and at last he realized what was happening to him. All around the courtyard were heavily armed men, most were members of the king’s Royal Guard, but it wasn’t the king who stood before Zollin. It was his father.

  “Thought you could worm your way back in?” Quinn spat.

  “I’m here to help,” Zollin said.

  “You murdered the king.”

  “You know that isn’t true.”

  “What I know is that you are wanted dead or alive.”

  Quinn drew his sword. Zollin was still being held by the two big warriors, one on either side. They held his arms behind his back, and pressed down on his shoulders at the same time.

  “I thought I’d kill you slow in Orrock, let you suffer a little,” Quinn said. “That was my mistake. This time I’ll end things quick.”

  Zollin could see the distrust in many of the soldiers. They didn’t like Zollin, but they had seen him fly to their rescue. Quinn on the other hand had become a cruel task master, who seemed to care about no one but himself.

  “You’re making a mistake, father,” Zollin said softly.

  “Don’t call me that. You’re a waste of breath, a failed experiment, nothing more. I should have slit your throat the day you were born.”

  Zollin’s eyes stung with tears. Hearing his father say out loud all the things that Zollin feared most as a child was more devastating than he could imagine.

  “Quinn!” Brianna shouted as she came flipping down out of the darkness. “What are you doing?”

  She landed a few feet away from Zollin and Quinn. Many of the soldiers in the circle around Zollin looked shocked, but a few reached for their weapons. One even drew his sword and stepped toward Brianna. She raised a hand without ever looking at the soldier, who froze in place when her hand burst into flames.

  “Stay out of this, witch!” Quinn snarled.

  “No! I won’t let you kill your own son.”

  “He’s not my son.”

  Zollin had heard enough. With his magic pressing to be released from his containment, he let the tiniest amount of magical energy race through him. It locked onto the soldiers who held Zollin, jolting them so hard it knocked them backward off their feet. The young wizard stood up slowly, raising a shield between himself and Quinn, who thrust his short, double edged sword at Zollin’s chest. The blade hit the invisible, magical barrier and bounced off.

  “Don’t stop him,” Zollin said as Brianna raised her other hand toward Quinn. There were tears streaking down her face.

  Quinn screamed in furry and began hacking at Zollin with a berserker rage. The soldiers stared in awe as Zollin stood fast, completely unharmed by Quinn’s attack. A few looked at each other, unsure if they should help or not. After a moment Zollin snatched Quinn’s sword out of his hand with a levitating spell, sending the weapon flying over Zollin’s head to clatter against the steps that led into the Keep. Quinn tried to punch his son, but Zollin swept his father’s legs out from under him, then pinned him down in the freezing mud with an invisible wave of magic.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Brianna said.

  “I don’t know,” Zollin said. “He isn’t the same man we knew.”

  When he looked up, Zollin saw the soldiers around him watching them. Most had their weapons drawn but they were hesitating, either because of their fear of his power or because they felt uncertain about what he’d actually done, Zollin couldn’t tell. But he didn’t want to let the moment slip past him.

  “My name is Zollin,” he said in a clear voice. “I’m a wizard. I was in Orrock when King Hausey died, but I did not kill him. In fact, I crowned Commander Hausey as king of Yelsia after the Witch’s War. I don’t know what you’ve been told, or what you believe, but at this moment I am not a threat to you. We have a common enemy. The gargoyles are controlled by a powerful, dark magic and if we don’t stop them here, they will spread across Yelsia causing destruction wherever they go.”

  “We don’t need him to fight the monsters,” snarled one of the soldiers, a member of the king’s Royal Guard.

  “Yes,” Zollin said. “You do.”

  The others hesitated.

  “What is that,” Brianna said, pointing down at Quinn.

  Zollin’s father was still struggling under the magical barrier that pinned him. Spit flew from his mouth and his face was red. Veins bulged in his forehead and neck as he squirmed in the mud. Brianna was pointing at a large, flat, stone that hung from a delicate-looking chain around Quinn’s neck. As he struggled his cloak had been pulled up high into his throat and the thick woolen shirt that was cinched at the top of his chest by a leather thong had come loose, flapping open to reveal the disk.

  Zollin bent down over his father. The object wasn’t radiating any form of magic, but Zollin had never seen his father wear any type of jewelry before and the flat, black disk wasn’t polished or lined in any type of precious metal. In fact, the disk didn’t move on his chest even though Quinn struggled, his body shifting back and forth as he tried to get back to his feet.

  The young wizard sent his magic into his father’s cloak. The heavy garment was held together with a metal pin that was inserted through a leather button hole. With one small effort Zollin snapped the pin in two, his magic swirling as it flung the garment aside. It only took a thought to press his magic into the leather thong holding his father’s shirt closed. A split second of heat burst the throng apart, leaving it curling in little blackened fibers.

  Zollin lifted his wave of magic, so that his father could sit up. Quinn’s arms came at Zollin, but the magic held firm. Quinn pummeled the barrier that held him back, rocking back and forth with each blow, but the black disk never moved on his chest. Another spell broke the delicate chain, but instead of falling from Quinn’s chest, the black disk seemed to burrow into his flesh.

  “Don’t touch it,” Zollin said. “I’m not sure what it is.”

  “Is it hurting him?” Brianna asked.

  “I can’t tell.”

  “We have to do something.”r />
  “I am,” Zollin said, as he sent a wave of calm toward his father.

  It was the first time Zollin’s magic had touched Quinn’s mind. He was so shocked by what he felt that he staggered back, his spell clamping down on his father again and pressing him into the mud.

  “What is it?” Brianna said. “Are you alright?”

  “It’s his mind,” Zollin said, his voice cracking as he tried to hold himself together. “He’s gone mad.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I touched it, with my magic. He’s gone.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Zollin’s eyes filled with tears. Quinn was screaming, his teeth clamping hard against each other, his eyes opened so wide that Zollin could see white all around the gentle brown he’d known all his life. The young wizard raised his hand and sent his magic to levitate the black disk. It resisted him, like a feather that seemed to flit away when a hand draws near. Zollin had to work hard to grasp the object and when he did he felt a furious presence that tried to attack his mind. For an instant Zollin saw red and was filled with a desire to kill. The presence had an unmistakable identity, almost like a familiar scent that brings back a long-forgotten memory.

  “Branock!” Zollin snarled, as he pulled the disk from his father and dropped it into the mud.

  “What is it?” Brianna asked.

  “I don’t know,” Zollin said. “Something vile. Some form of dark magic.”

  “It gave him control over Quinn?” she wondered, putting a hand on Zollin’s arm.

  “No, not exactly.” Zollin looked up and saw that the soldiers had moved closer. They weren’t threatening, but rather eager to hear what Zollin was saying. “It was more like it gave him direction. It made Quinn want what Branock wanted.”

  Zollin’s father lay in the mud unmoving now, his eyes rolled back into his skull, the eyelids mere slits showing nothing but white. The young wizard moved toward his father and knelt down in the mud beside Quinn. He put one hand on Quinn’s forehead and let his magic flow into his father. His body was healthy, in fact it felt invigorated as if something had somehow reversed the aging process. But Quinn’s mind was a mass of memories and violent urges. Zollin was glad that Quinn was unconscious.

  “Take him inside,” he said quietly to the soldiers gathered around. “I’m not sure what I can do for him, but I’ll try.”

  There were tears running down Zollin’s face. He knew that his father was beyond reach. Whatever had happened to Quinn when the animal bit him in Brighton’s Gate, it was too late to reverse. Zollin knew the brain was a delicate organ, one that naturally grew and developed in an orderly fashion. With his magic he could feel the tiny impulses that fired through the brain, commanding a person’s body and storing memories. Normally when he touched a person’s brain he felt order and productivity, almost like a group of musicians all working together to produce a harmonious sound. Quinn’s mind was nothing but chaos, the screeching and wailing of a thousand instruments in the hands of children with no direction and nothing in tune.

  “He’s gone,” Zollin said.

  “You can heal him, right?” Brianna asked as the soldiers carried Quinn into the hall.

  “All I can do for him is end his suffering.”

  Brianna looked horrified and she almost staggered. Zollin felt a stab of guilt. He loved his father and felt completely helpless. His powerful magic couldn’t rebuild Quinn’s brain. The person they had known was gone, choked to death by madness that had destroyed his mind. He knew that what he’d said was harsh. No one who loved another person could easily tolerate the thought of them dying, much less entertain the notion of actually being the cause of that death. Zollin was suddenly afraid that Brianna might never be able to look at him the same again.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice cracking with grief. “I didn’t mean to be cruel.”

  “No,” Brianna said. “They’re coming!”

  “What?”

  “The gargoyles! Hundreds of them. They’re almost here!”

  Chapter 22

  Alarm bells began to ring and the beleaguered army began to move into position. Zollin closed his eyes as he felt the familiar dizziness that he always felt when Ferno was attempting to show him something. In his mind he saw the dark landscape spreading out from the Keep. Zollin knew immediately that he was seeing the dragon’s view from the top of the tall fortress. His own eyes would not have been able to penetrate the gloom, but Ferno saw a shadowy landscape, the dragon’s powerful sight unfazed even though the sky was covered in thick clouds that hid the stars and moon. In the distance he could see the dark shapes of hundreds of gargoyles flying toward the Keep, their fat bodies held aloft by their leathery wings.

  “What should I do?” Brianna said.

  “I’m not sure,” Zollin replied honestly. “They don’t respond to fire, at least not the normal kind. They’re vulnerable to cold.”

  Brianna looked at Zollin as if to say his information was less than helpful.

  “Stay with Ferno,” the young wizard said. “You’ll be able to help that way at least. Especially if they attack the dragon. Watch out for gargoyles falling from the sky.”

  Brianna looked doubtful, but Zollin didn’t hesitate. He threw his arms around her and sent his magic into motion, lifting them up through the cold night air.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know yet,” Zollin said.

  He set them gently on the roof of the keep. The soldiers hadn’t made it up the alternating staircases to the rooftop, but Zollin was certain the countess was getting every position ready. She was a strong woman, and he realized he had underestimated her. Perhaps it was her grief at the loss of her daughter and the shock of being overrun by Quinn’s forces, robbing the Keep of its most valuable resource, the men who were trained to protect the fortress from invaders, but she was more capable than he’d thought.

  “Take her up,” Zollin said to Ferno. “Stay on the edges of the fight. Help where you can but don’t get overwhelmed.”

  The dragon growled but Zollin sent a feeling of reassurance to the huge beast.

  “I trust you with her life.”

  Ferno roared, then jumped off the tower, soaring out into the darkness. Zollin stared out across the border but still couldn’t see the gargoyles. He didn’t know if they were holding back or just out of sight, but he couldn’t really see much of anything in the darkness. The vile monsters would be on top of the soldiers before they knew it.

  In the Keep men were taking up bows and cross bows. The tall tower was ringed with thin kill holes. The tall slits in the fortress walls were made for bowmen to rain arrows down on their enemies, but the builders had never imagined a threat from the air. Many of the soldiers had to get down on their knees to aim their weapons up at the sky.

  After a few moments spearmen appeared on top of the keep. They had shields and long spears, which were effective for holding off a cavalry charge, and had been surprisingly well suited against diving gargoyles, but Zollin knew the weapons were defensive in nature. He needed a way to kill the wretched creatures to win the battle, not just hold them at bay.

  The first wave of the attack was more reserved than Zollin had expected. Whenever he’d fought the gargoyles before, they had seemed like simple creatures throwing themselves at any enemy that came within sight. The fact that the enemy was usually himself and Ferno had given a strong, but flawed, impression of the gargoyles’ abilities. Dozens came flying out of the darkness. The countess had hundreds of men inside the Keep, but over a thousand were either on the wide walls that surrounded the expansion of the fortress, or spreading out in a line to either side.

  The gargoyles swooped down, their long legs extended toward their enemy. Many were wounded by spears that came jabbing up at the fat creatures. The army wasn’t running away anymore, they were holding their ground and fighting hard. That, added to the fact that the gargoyles attacked in relatively few numbers, gave the advantage to
the soldiers. Arrows shot out at any creature that came within range of the archers in the Keep. Zollin sent two of the gargoyles crashing down with his blue, magical energy.

  Fear rose up inside Zollin as he realized the gargoyles were testing the strengths and weaknesses of their enemy. That meant that someone or something was controlling them, giving an orderly battle plan to an already powerful army that Zollin wasn’t sure he would be able to stop. He hated that it was so dark. He simply couldn’t see his enemy, but they could see him. If it were daylight he might be able to direct his forces to meet the gargoyles strength for strength. Unfortunately he was forced to react to whatever attack they sent against him.

  The second wave would have destroyed the Keep if not for Zollin. Out of the dark sky the gargoyles flew toward the fortress, their wings extended as they morphed back into stone and sailed toward the tower. The first one smashed into the Keep and shattered, but not before shaking the entire structure. Zollin realized that it would only take a few more of the heavy creatures crashing into the Keep to tear the entire tower down. When the next gargoyle came sailing toward the tower, Zollin reached out with his magic, nudging it off course. More and more creatures flew toward the Keep, forcing the young wizard to swat at the gargoyles like flies. He knocked them into one another first, but then the creatures changed tactics, waiting to morph into stone until just before impact.

  And the third wave of attacks came down from above. Ferno swooped down and caught two of the gargoyles who were falling toward the tower from just below the cloud bank. Zollin deflected another, but he knew he couldn’t keep up the fight. His magic was raging inside him, white hot and painful to wield. He needed to stop the attack in its tracks but he wasn’t sure how.

  Throwing caution to the wind, Zollin sent his magical senses out in every direction, searching for something to aid them in their fight. He felt a powerful presence emanating from the horde of gargoyles, many of which had yet to enter the fray. The presence felt old and unmistakably evil, yet it was also cautious. Unfortunately, whatever was leading the gargoyles had more than enough of the vile creatures to throw at the Keep until the tower came tumbling down, killing hundreds of the king’s soldiers. If Zollin couldn’t stop the gargoyles, they would eventually slaughter the king’s army and open a path into Yelsia.