by Dean Cadman
Lord Zelroth laughed loudly. “Such loyalty—and in such a short amount of time. It seems I have to conclude that either Zedd is one of the most brilliant commanders ever to have served me or, for some other, hidden reason, you speak falsely of his deeds to me.”
“I speak only the truth, sire, I swear,” Cole said nervously.
“We shall see,” Lord Zelroth replied, turning and nodding to his Darkseed Elite.
Zedd watched in horror as the Darkseed Elite approached Cole and began to read his mind. Cole was weak. There was no way that he could withstand the scrutiny of the Darkseed Elite’s mind reading abilities. He contemplated killing Cole but knew he would die moments later if he did. The strength in his legs almost failed him, and he took a small involuntary step forward before steadying himself once more. He had been so close to his goals, and now… now it was all ruined because of this weak fool kneeling before him. ‘I should have killed him much sooner,’ Zedd thought to himself bitterly. ‘Now I’m going to die, and my family will be made to pay the price of my failure.’
It probably took less than a minute, but it felt like an hour to Zedd as he watched the Darkseed Elite complete his simple task. When the Darkseed Elite finished, he turned to Lord Zelroth and began to report his findings. ‘This is it—this is the end,’ Zedd thought to himself. He wasn’t really listening to the Darkseed Elite’s words, instead his mind was numb with defeat.
Lord Zelroth walked slowly towards Zedd, face hidden within the deep shadows of his hood. He stopped directly in front of Zedd and raised his hand. Zedd cringed, expecting this moment to be his last. Instead Lord Zelroth pointed towards the book pedestal.
“Do you know what that is?” he asked Zedd, then turned his head to include Cole in his question. Zedd just shook his head, not knowing or trusting himself to speak yet.
“What about you, Cole? Do you know what that is?”
Cole nodded. “Yes, sire, I think so. From what I have read about this place in our history books, and the effect it seemed to have on the boy-mage, I would guess it’s a Guardian book, sire,” Cole replied.
“Excellent, Cole,” Lord Zelroth said, sounding genuinely pleased at his answer. “I can assume, then, that you also know the consequences of trying to read such a book?”
“Yes, sire.”
“Good—then you know that if either of you tried to read this book, it would kill you.” Cole nodded, whilst looking nervously towards the book and hoping Lord Zelroth wasn’t about to suggest that he did try to read it.
“The existence of the Guardian books is well known and documented. What is not well known are their locations. I myself have been aware of this particular one for many centuries, as well as the location of certain others. The location of Coldmont, and this book, is known only to a handful of people, most of whom are in this room right now. I have certain… safeguards in place, to ensure that no one ever enters this room without my knowledge. So, should you ever try and revisit this place, or even utter a hint of its location to anyone… well, let’s just say it would seriously spoil your outlook on life,” Lord Zelroth said, leaving absolutely no doubt about his implied threat, or his willingness to act upon it.
“Yes, sire, I understand,” Cole replied.
When Lord Zelroth’s gaze fell upon Zedd, he simply nodded mutely.
“Good! Then we have an understanding, gentlemen,” Lord Zelroth said, almost jovially. “I’ve always liked gambling, especially when the odds are in my favour. And I’m willing to bet that you couldn’t have achieved what you have without the help of Cole here—or am I wrong, Zedd?”
Zedd looked at Lord Zelroth warily. He still suspected a trap in his every word. His mind raced with unanswered questions, not least of which was how Cole had just managed to withstand a mind read from a Darkseed Elite. One thing, however, was true: if he did survive this encounter with Lord Zelroth, he couldn’t have done it without Cole’s help.
“Yes, sire. You are correct,” Zedd admitted. Although the words were true, speaking them out loud still seemed to leave a bitter aftertaste in his mouth.
“Then it seems only fair that Cole should receive a promotion too. Don’t you agree, Zedd?”
“I do, sire,” Zedd replied. He wasn’t really bothered if Cole received a promotion or not. All he wanted was for all this to be over. He wanted to be as far away from Lord Zelroth and his Darkseed Elite guards as possible. He couldn’t help feeling that Lord Zelroth was simply playing with them both, like a cat plays with a mouse, just before it kills it.
Zedd watched impassively as Lord Zelroth first touched Cole’s ring with his own, then turned to one of his Darkseed Elite guards and asked for his silver chain and pendant. At Cole’s current rank, agents didn’t wear a silver chain, only a gold one—usually with the sigil of Aamon attached to it. It seemed perfectly reasonable to Zedd that Lord Zelroth would create a new silver skull pendant for Cole using the donated silver chain and pendant from the Darkseed Elite guard. He watched as Lord Zelroth placed the Darkseed Elite pendant in his hand and quietly chanted a short spell.
Keeping hold of the newly-formed pendant, Lord Zelroth placed the chain over Cole’s still-bowed head.
“Thank you, sire,” Cole said, with genuine feeling.
“Rise,” Lord Zelroth commanded, and Cole obeyed, revealing his new silver pendant to all in the room. Zedd’s eyes widened and his jaw hung loose at the sight of Cole’s new silver pendant: it was the pendant of a Baliaeter. Lord Zelroth had made Cole an equal with him. He could no longer command him to do anything, nor could he kill him using his own ring. ‘How could Lord Zelroth promote this weak man to the rank of Baliaeter?’ Zedd thought angrily. But then he realised he himself was far weaker than any normal Baliaeter should ever be.
“I’ll expect a report as soon as you both arrive at Lamuria, and regular updates of your progress. Do not fail me, gentlemen. Now get out… and I suggest that you forget you ever saw this place,” Lord Zelroth said, pointing towards the recently cleared doorway behind Zedd and Cole. They both bowed their heads, turned towards the door, and exited the brightly lit room into the darkened corridor beyond.
“And make sure you hide the entrance to this room,” Lord Zelroth called after them. “We wouldn’t want anyone else stumbling across it now, would we?”
Before they could answer, a bright flash came from the room, and it then fell into complete darkness. Zedd created a light source which illuminated the dark corridor, then went to confirm what he already knew: Lord Zelroth and his Darkseed Elite had already gone. Remembering Lord Zelroth’s words of warning, he decided against re-entering the room. Instead he made his way back to where Cole was waiting.
Cole remained still—as if waiting for Zedd’s next move. Zedd could of course still kill him through sheer force, but should he? Somehow, he had withstood the scrutiny of a Darkseed Elite—one that Zedd himself had felt the power of. All of Zedd’s concerns regarding Cole had stemmed from the possibility of him either purposely or inadvertently revealing what had occurred since leaving Helveel. If Cole had ever intended reporting Zedd for his transgressions, he could have done it easily in that room. And if he could hold out mentally against the power of a Darkseed Elite, no one short of an Inquisitor, or Lord Zelroth himself, would be able to take the information from him forcefully. If they ever did find themselves in that situation, Zedd knew that even he wouldn’t be able to hide anything—so now, it made little sense to remain concerned over Cole’s future ability to hide information. Cole began to look a little uncomfortable under Zedd’s intense gaze, and began to shuffle a little.
“How? How did you do that?” Zedd asked, nodding towards the now-darkened room. Cole simply placed a finger to his lips, signalling to Zedd to be quiet. At first Zedd’s anger began to flare at the flippant dismissal of his question, but before he could reply, Cole said, “Remember what Lord Zelroth said about having certain ‘safeguards’ in place to monitor that room—maybe he can also hear what is said.”
‘He has a good point,’ Zedd thought to himself.
“Let’s block the entrance like he asked. We can talk about it later,” Cole suggested. It seemed Cole’s new rank had given him more confidence to voice his opinions—and as long as they were beneficial, Zedd wouldn’t hold it against him, not right now anyway.
Zedd ended up doing most of the magical work to block the entrance of the book room. Not because Cole refused to help, but because he was incapable of wielding the magic required to move that amount of rubble.
Zedd hadn’t spoken since leaving the basement of Coldmont. He was still trying to understand how this incredibly weak mage had defeated a mind read from a Darkseed Elite. As they emerged from Coldmont into the daylight, Zedd decided he couldn’t take it any more.
“Okay, so how did you do it?” he asked bluntly. Cole actually smiled at his question before answering.
“I have tier eight mind control,” Cole replied, his smile broadening further.
“Impossible!” Zedd spat back. “Inquisitors only have to achieve tier seven. You can’t possibly be tier eight.”
“I can—and I am. I know what you’re thinking: that I am weak, so I can’t be tier eight. I hoped to be an Inquisitor once, but my base magic scores were not high enough to make the grade, so I was assigned my low rank instead.”
“If that were true, you would be able to read my mind easily. So do it now. Tell me what I am thinking right now,” Zedd said, preparing his mental defences.
Cole willingly accepted the challenge, if for nothing else, only to prove that he was better at something than Zedd was. He delved into Zedd’s mind, easily finding the information he tried desperately to hide and told him exactly what it was.
“Again!” Zedd half-screamed in frustration.
Three more times Zedd made Cole read his mind, each time Zedd employed more and more complex defences against him, but nothing could keep him out. Next Zedd attempted to read Cole’s mind, but he blocked absolutely everything from him. After twenty minutes, Zedd had a newfound respect for Cole’s abilities. He wasn’t powerful magically like Zedd was, but mentally, he was a giant amongst men. With his level of mind control, he could force almost anyone to do whatever he wanted. With enough pressure exerted on someone’s mind, he could control them almost like a puppet—even if it were only for short periods of time. ‘I may just have discovered a way to defeat the Baliaeter who is now in control of the army outside Lamuria,’ Zedd thought, grinning to himself. For once, he was glad he hadn’t killed Cole.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
After several heated discussions, they finally decided amongst themselves who would do what in their preparations to leave Helveel. It had been decided that Neala and Alexia would go together to buy the horses and travel supplies for their journey. Although Lusam hadn’t wanted Neala out on the streets of Helveel without him, eventually he had been forced to agree with their argument to be the ones to go. Alexia was completely unknown in Helveel, and hopefully unrecognisable by any Empire agents—even if their descriptions had already been circulated. Neala, on the other hand, knew Helveel’s streets and shops very well. She had already proven her ability to lose a pursuing Empire agent when Lusam and she had been spotted at the carnival. That made her the perfect choice to quickly acquire the resources they would need for their onward journey.
Renn had spoken of a temple within Helveel, one that neither Lusam nor Neala had ever seen, or even heard of before. He insisted it existed, and told Lusam it had been the only means of communication between his grandmother and the High Temple in Lamuria. The location of the temple was only known to a select few, including Hermingild and paladins. Its primary function was to keep track of any Empire movements in the far north and report its findings back to the High Temple. Renn said it was possible that they may know something more of the attack in Lamuria, and if not, it was his duty to inform them of the information he now had regarding it.
The plan was for Neala and Alexia to acquire the horses and supplies, then make their way towards the eastern gate. They would exit the city, making their way to the small forest where Lusam and Neala had spent so much time together. Then they would secure the horses and supplies in a secluded spot before returning to Helveel and rejoining the others in the basement of The Old Ink Well.
At first light they would all leave Helveel, but not together. Renn had a plan for Neala and himself to leave via the north part of the city, Lusam and Alexia via the east gate. Lusam and Alexia would reclaim the horses and supplies, then meet up with the others further along the eastern road. If all went well, no one would mark their departure as a group of four people matching the description the Empire now had of them.
So it was that Lusam found himself alone in the basement. At first he’d felt like a caged animal—pacing back and forth in his sleeping cell, worried about the others, especially Neala. Eventually, he convinced himself that they could take care of themselves, and that it was unlikely that anyone would even be on the lookout for people matching their descriptions yet. He didn’t know if Lord Zelroth knew where they had gone or not. What he did know, however, was that Lord Zelroth hadn’t been able to follow them here.
‘Obviously he was unaware of the Guardian book in Helveel—and hopefully it will remain that way,’ Lusam thought.
It had been an incredibly arduous few weeks since the last time he had been in his cosy sleeping cell. He, like the others, was bone-tired. He would have liked nothing more than to close his eyes and sleep, but he couldn’t—not until the others were safely back. He spent a while lying down on his bed, going over things in his mind—things that had happened, and things that he had seen and done. It seemed incredible to him that only a few short months ago, he was nothing more than a lonely street kid here in Helveel—and now, he was possibly the greatest hope Afaraon had of defeating the Empire. Or at least that was what Renn and the others believed—even if he didn’t. Surely someone other than him deserved the attention of Aysha more. After all, he wasn’t even a particularly religious person, so why choose him?
As he lay there on his bed thinking about the implications of it all, his heart began to race more and more. Before long, he found himself almost panting as the sheer panic rose within him. His heart felt like it was about to burst from his chest as he finally realised there was nothing he could do to change his fate. But it wasn’t just his fate—it was quite possibly the fate of the entire world he held in his hands. If Lord Zelroth managed to re-open The Great Rift, and released the creatures of the Netherworld again, everything would be lost—this time, there would be no Guardians to save the world.
Lusam sat bolt-upright on his bed, panting, and on the verge of a panic attack. He had to occupy his mind with something else… anything else. He found himself walking towards the main chamber. Halfway there, he decided to run. He knew it was crazy, but running seemed to make him feel better—like he could distance himself from his dark thoughts somehow. Thankfully it didn’t take him long to regain control of his thoughts, and he began to study the walls and ceiling in the vast chamber. He thought he might discover something new, something he had missed earlier—but he didn’t. All he saw was the riddle, and it still made little or no sense to him.
He found himself absent-mindedly heading for the book room, and was surprised to see it in almost exactly the same state as when they had finished cataloguing the books. He never thought he would be happy to see all these books again, but they held fond memories for him. If it weren’t for these books, he would never have had the chance to become so close to Neala.
There were hundreds of piles of books, but one in particular caught his eye. It was the pile of uncatalogued books. The ones written in a foreign language. It wasn’t a large pile compared to the others—maybe only twenty or so books. But now he could clearly read the cover of the top book in the pile: it was written in the same language as the Guardian books. He knelt by the side of the books, and began to look through the pile. Most were still writ
ten in various languages that Lusam couldn’t understand—but three were not.
Lusam collected the three large leather-bound books and took them over to the writing desk where he had done all of his earlier writing. He strengthened his light orb so he could read the words clearly, and opened the first book. It appeared to be some kind of ledger. Some of the items it listed were unfamiliar to Lusam, but many he recognised as trade goods still used today. He placed the ledger to one side and opened the second book. To his great disappointment, this too contained nothing but facts and figures, all relating to the various trade deals of some long-dead merchant.
The third and final book looked different from the other two. It was larger in all of its dimensions, and the binding was of much higher quality. Lusam placed the book before him and opened it to the first page:
Judd II—Second cycle—Seventh-day—One
Since the Empire’s retreat back to Thule, we have been making slow progress in the fight against the foul creatures of the Netherworld. Although we all mourn the passing of the mighty Guardians and their dragons, we still hold strong to our faith in Aysha.
The King has finally approved the funds to build a new outpost south of The Great Rift, and its construction has already begun in earnest. It is to be called The Sanctum of Light, and Aysha herself has ordained that a new breed of holy knights be created to man the new outpost. Rumours abound that the King’s long-term refusal to fund such a bold and expensive venture came to an abrupt end with the sudden appearance of several Netherworld creatures in the capital itself. One cannot help wonder if it was pure coincidence, or if some higher power had a hand in their sudden and inexplicable appearance, but I know it is not for us to question such things.
Judd II—Second cycle—Third-day—Two
