Halls of Power (Ancient Dreams Book 3)

by Benjamin Medrano

  A bolt of lightning blasted out from Nirath’s staff and into the man next to Daniel’s target, electrocuting the man as it bounced from one soldier to the next, through a dozen men before vanishing. The lightning left its targets twitching on the ground, and Daniel looked around, gaping.

  To his left, beyond the spikes holding up the soldiers, he saw more carnage, including several soldiers solidly frozen in place. One fell over and shattered as he looked at them. The other side was much the same, though Alfred was holding a strange, spiked metal staff, looking far too satisfied as he looked on a twenty-yard cone where the attackers had been left smoldering and the paving stones were scorched.

  In seconds, the adventurers had killed or disabled more than fifty men, and Darak chuckled darkly as he came walking back, using a cloth to clean his axe. “Told you we could go through a few companies like Nirath goes through a salad.”

  “I… I see that. I barely had time to react!” Daniel protested, looking around at the others, then at Kelvanis’ army. The enemy seemed even more stunned than Daniel felt, and none of them were daring to approach now.

  “That’s the point, Danny. They know that too, and now they’ll leave us the hell alone,” Joseph replied with a chuckle.

  “That makes sense,” Sina murmured, and Daniel nodded as he looked at her.

  “Now to just hope that the dungeon survives.” Joseph’s mutter was soft, but Daniel’s smile faded as he looked behind him at the dungeon entrance. No one had come out yet, which was worrying.

  “Agreed,” Daniel said, then turned to keep watch on the army again. Even if they’d been beaten back, he knew better than to think they wouldn’t attack if shown weakness.

  No one saw Rene creep out the back of the guildhouse. The assassin had lost weight, but she’d managed to resist all attempts to interrogate her, and the adventurers all leaving the guildhouse had been a stroke of luck for her. Certainly, she was missing an arm and in bad shape, but open warfare had given her the perfect opening to escape, as had the adventurers lowering their guard.

  “Time to get back to the Guildmaster and report about these idiots…” Rene muttered, making her way down the alley slowly. She was certain that Kevin would appreciate the information she’d managed to gather.

  As she stepped out into the street, Rene never saw the rune on the flagstone flicker to life. Neither did she know that when the gates had been breached, a number of traps in the surrounding area activated, and she’d never been attuned to them to keep them from targeting her. So when the jet of flame enveloped her, she never even had time to scream.

  Many people would expect the confrontation between a dungeon and a goddess to be exciting. For Sistina, most of the time so far had been boring. She was fairly certain it was for Tyria, as well. She’d heavily increased the density of the stone in Tyria’s path to make it more difficult. In return the goddess had increased the heat with which she was burning a hole through the mountain.

  Tyria bored the hole, and Sistina tried to stop her. It was fairly simple as contests went, but Sistina wasn’t really trying. Trying to stop the goddess with mere rock was an exercise in futility, and she had far less mana than the goddess did. It was best to be practical about such things.

  In an odd sort of way, Sistina was relieved when Tyria finally broke into her cavern. It meant that the confrontation she’d been expecting was here, but at the same time she found herself amused. The goddess paused, looking around the chamber at the gardens with her eyebrows furrowed in thought before taking flight and carefully bypassing them on the way to her tree.

  As the goddess approached, Sistina opened her eyes, inhabiting the body as she looked up at Tyria and stood. She stepped out from under the canopy, almost face to face with Tyria, and each of them studied one another for a moment.

  “Thank you. For not damaging the garden,” Sistina told the goddess, feeling oddly at ease, even with the flaming sword so near her.

  Tyria didn’t speak for a long moment, but eventually nodded, her voice betraying just a hint of surprise. “Why would I damage a garden? It is not dangerous, unlike some of the chambers in your outer dungeon. You, on the other hand, are different than I expected.”

  Sistina raised an eyebrow. While she was more than willing to battle this out, it would be far more ideal if she could get through things simply by talking.

  “I was told you were a dryad. Those who I have spoken with agree on this. Yet you are not a dryad. I sense your power, your core, and it comes from the tree, not that… body that you inhabit,” the goddess replied, and her eyes drifted to the tree, sending chills down Sistina’s spine. “The tree seems familiar for some reason, but I cannot explain why.”

  “I am unusual. Now, please leave. Our war is with Kelvanis, not you,” Sistina told the beautiful woman, crossing her arms in front of her, but as she did she could feel Tyria’s power growing more focused.

  “I will not. Those in your city have harmed my faithful and kidnapped those who were blessed in my name.” Tyria raised her sword and pointed it at Sistina’s tree, the flames intensifying along its length, and she continued. “Do not resist and I will make this painless for you.”

  The dryad considered the request for only an instant before smiling and shaking her head, her voice blunt. “No.”

  Tyria didn’t waste any further words, and as her blade rose, the flames grew ever more potent, and Sistina simply smiled as she looked at Tyria and past her.

  Beyond the goddess, the pond silently swirled and rose up in a massive wave, forming a featureless giant made of pure water. The elementals Sistina had called inhabited the water, and were nearly invulnerable in their current state. That was likely the only reason they’d been willing to accept her bargain, and it was fortunate that they had.

  Before Tyria’s blade could come down, Sistina spoke softly, flicking her hand. “Shoo.”

  A massive array surged to life around her tree, two separate circles of stone and metal having been formed just under the surface of the hill. Glittering golden veins of light outlined the runes, and a shield sprang into existence inches from Sistina’s face. Almost in the same moment the second array hit Tyria with a magical battering ram of force, launching her back into the gigantic water elemental with a cry of shock.

  The elemental enveloped the goddess, collapsing in a swirling ball of animate water around her, currents forming within it to try and restrain her. Her sword’s flames had dimmed but didn’t extinguish even in the water. Tyria’s eyes blazed with rage, and she twisted and spun within her aquatic prison, internal fire causing the water to steam and scald.

  Without anything to directly fight against, the water elementals were likely among the most effective foes for Tyria that Sistina could have chosen, especially as she was a goddess of fire. Even so, Sistina had absolutely no illusions that the water elementals could slow Tyria for more than a minute, possibly two, so she immediately began to chant, flicking her fingers through the gestures of a spell, and beneath her mana flooded out and into the traps she’d built just for this possibility.

  The gazebo which she’d built on the shores of the pond shimmered with light, shuddered, and began to fall apart, runes glowing across the exposed surfaces of the wooden structure. In moments it’d collapsed, and with another gesture the dryad sent the pieces flying around the floating orb, forming an elaborate lattice around the fighting goddess and the rapidly shrinking ball of water. Concern surged through Sistina as she saw how much water had steamed away already, and she tried to hasten her casting.

  “This will not stop me, dungeon!” Tyria finally broke free of the water elemental, eyes blazing in rage as she unleashed a firestorm, a raging torrent of flame that blasted the remainder of the pond into nothing, a thick mist emanating from the wooden lattice. “You would challenge a goddess with water?”

  “No. I challenge you with faith,” Sistina replied, finishing her spell and smiling gently up into the mist at the goddess. “Your faith, Medaea.”
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br />   “What? What is this?” Tyria demanded, seeming to notice the wooden frame for the first time, untouched by the fire and glowing with a brilliant golden light. An instant later the frame turned entirely into light and energy, and from each corner of the twelve-sided lattice burst a lance of pure light that pierced into the goddess, who screamed in shock and pain. “Ahh!”

  Sistina watched for a moment, swallowing hard as she gestured again, the lattice slowly floating toward her and her tree, the goddess contained within it and writhing in pain. It settled down onto the ground, and Sistina let the shield around her tree fade. The power it used was too much of a drain when combined with maintaining the lattice.

  The lattice wasn’t mere light, not with the ability to trap Tyria where she was. It had taken painstaking effort for Sistina to work out a spell that could do what she needed and trap a goddess, but at last she’d managed it. The lattice was faith given form. Every prayer uttered by the priestesses of Medaea in the city above, by the Jewels in their private rooms, by the worshippers asking for help, was imbued into the lattice. It held the hopes, dreams, and memories of Medaea’s faithful as a cage and reminder in one. The spell was powerful, but an incredible drain of mana, and as it attacked the goddess’ mind, Sistina felt herself pale.

  “Remember who you were,” the dryad murmured softly, worry surging through her as she watched the struggling goddess, whose weapon fell from a nerveless grasp.

  The battle between her soldiers and Kelvanis was still raging when Phynis gathered the Jewels and took them down to Sistina’s cavern. While the initial assault had been beaten back, it was obvious even from the palace that casualties had been far higher than she’d hoped they would be. She was unhappy with abandoning the field at this point, but Sistina was still alive and the dryad’s directions had been precise.

  They took the emergency escape again, as it was far faster than trying to walk and none of them wanted to leave for longer than they had to. The descent was as shocking as before, but Phynis managed it, with far less terror than she’d had the previous trip.

  “I’m too old for things like that.” Diamond’s voice was soft as the priestess stood off to the side, her hands on her knees.

  “I don’t know… if it wasn’t so dark and long, it might actually be fun,” Opal disagreed, teasing the other woman. “You don’t look any older than me, either.”

  Diamond gave the orange-haired woman a dirty look, and Phynis smiled, shaking her head as she interrupted. “Opal, stop teasing, would you? We need to go see Sistina. Hopefully without her tree being on fire this time.”

  “Agreed,” Amethyst said swiftly, and most of the mirth on the faces of the others vanished as well. “Let’s go, then!”

  Phynis led the way out into the cavern, then stopped with a gasp. The cavern didn’t look much different, save for the missing gazebo and that the pond was empty, but her eyes immediately focused on the prison of light and the purple-haired figure inside of it.

  She swallowed hard before asking. “Is… is that…?”

  “I think it is. I don’t know for certain, but maybe I can be sure after seeing her up close…” Diamond replied, her voice trembling.

  “Let’s go,” Sapphire suggested, surprisingly calm, and she led the way over to where Sistina stood near the figure.

  “Sistina, what’re you doing to her?” Phynis asked as they got close, worried as she saw the expression of pain on the goddess’ face. Tyria’s presence filled her with awe, but it was oddly dampened to the point she could tolerate it.

  “Using faith, prayers to Medaea. Trying to make her remember,” Sistina replied, looking worried as she chewed her lower lip, then looked at the Jewels. “Isn’t working. Mana use is… dangerous.”

  “I can feel my own prayers in that…” Topaz’s voice was soft in amazement as she looked at the lattice. “I can’t imagine how you did that.”

  “What will happen if it fails?” Ruby asked, glancing at Sistina, even as Phynis embraced the Queen gently.

  Phynis could feel the dryad’s tension as she replied. “She would kill me. Not a pleasant experience, I believe. Hers, I meant her experience.”

  “No! Is there anything you can do?” Phynis asked, panic surging through her, and everyone paused as Sistina visibly hesitated.

  “Yes,” Sistina finally admitted, lowering her eyes and continuing. “She has a slave brand. Powerful and complex… but possible. I find myself hesitant.”

  “Why?” Emerald asked nervously.

  “She’s your goddess. Corrupted, but… your goddess,” Sistina replied softly, her arms tightening around Phynis. “Making her mine would be wrong.”

  Shock surged through Phynis, followed by incredulity, then by an odd sense of satisfaction and happiness. That Sistina would even consider the feelings of the others at this stage made her happy, but she was also frustrated that the dryad hadn’t just dealt with the problem. Yet when she opened her mouth to speak, Sistina gave her a stern look and shook her head.

  The Jewels were all looking at one another, stunned and hesitant. One by one they looked at Diamond. The oldest priestess paused, then asked, “Are you all sure?”

  Each nodded as her gaze fell to them, and Diamond sighed, then turned to Sistina and asked softly, tears glittering in her eyes. “On behalf of my sister priestesses and myself, I request that you claim Tyria’s slave brand, Sistina. If you can return her to us as Medaea, it would be wonderful, but… but please free her of their command.”

  Sistina paused a moment, then nodded. “Yes. This… will be difficult.”

  The dryad seemed to go slightly limp in Phynis’ arms after a moment, and as they watched, a dozen thin roots emerged from the ground beneath Tyria. The goddess growled as the roots wrapped around her legs, moving upward quickly. Then they began to slip through the gaps in her armor, seeking out the hidden brand on Tyria’s lower body. Finally they stopped, and Phynis swallowed.

  “And now… now we wait,” Phynis murmured.

  Chapter 47

  Ulvian was just finishing going over the offer from the ambassador of Morak, smiling at the terms of the peace treaty the man was proposing. The man had obviously been terrified of what Tyria had done to Alcast’s embassy, which handily made up for the loss of the suborned ambassador of the weaker republic.

  “Sorvos! Summon me to the mortal plane immediately!” The mental voice of Irethiel thundered into Ulvian’s head so incredibly loudly that he felt like his skull was about to burst.

  The rage in the demon lord’s message was beyond even when Ulvian had overstepped his bounds, and he shuddered as blood began to seep from his ears and nose. Despite the lances of agony thrust through his mind, Ulvian didn’t dare say much, simply gasping, “A-as you command, My Lady!”

  She didn’t respond, to Ulvian’s relief. He did have to wonder what had enraged the demon lord so, but without time to wonder the Archon stood, his thoughts racing on how he was to summon the demon lord. It was made easier by there being no need to take precautions for his defense, but even so it wasn’t something that was going to be easy. He got up rapidly and headed for the door.

  It only took Ulvian a moment to run through the options available to him, and to settle on the one that could be performed most quickly. The door opened, and he glanced around, his eyes settling on the unfortunate elven maid who’d been passing by.

  “You there, I need your help in one of my laboratories,” Ulvian told the woman, smiling as he stepped out, doing his best to avoid paying too close of attention to what she looked like. “Come with me.”

  “Y-yes, Lord Archon! Right away!” the maid replied hurriedly, curtseying and following after him.

  He rushed down the hallway, thankful that the woman had been well-trained. Some of the servants that had been in the palace when he’d first taken over had actually taken the initiative to ask what needed to be cleaned, and in this particular case that would be awkward. On the other hand, she was a slave, so it didn’t much matter if
she ended up hesitant.

  Reaching the room he wanted, Ulvian opened the door and stepped inside, motioning her in as well. The room was mostly bare, with just a circle set into the floor and a cabinet full of ritual materials. The maid looked around in obvious confusion, opening her mouth to speak.

  “Don’t speak. Step into the center of the circle and stand as still as you are able until I tell you to move,” the Archon ordered quickly, opening the cabinet and pulling out a jar of sulfur, a vial of blood, and a large, nearly flawless ruby.

  The maid’s mouth snapped shut and she stepped into the circle, while Ulvian quickly unscrewed the jar and began pouring the sulfur into the circle in a quick, steady stream. It took a minute to do properly without spilling too much, but once finished, he screwed the jar shut again and set it aside, taking the ruby and holding it out to the maid.

  “Put this in your mouth and hold it on top of your tongue,” Ulvian commanded, barely paying attention as the woman took the ruby. He saw a few tears spatter on the floor, but it didn’t matter. He refused to let himself really look at his sacrifice.

  Taking a deep breath, Ulvian stopped and steadied his breathing. The feeling of the blood in his ears was distracting, but he’d already healed, and it didn’t matter. Instead he calmed himself for a long moment, before uncorking the vial of blood and pouring it down onto the circle.

  “Demon Queen of Chains, I call out to thee with a sacrifice. May her flesh, blood, and spirit become yours, to allow thee to manifest in this world.” Ulvian spoke quickly, pushing as much mana as he could manage into the circle, which had burst into crimson flames around the silently sobbing maid. “I call humbly to thee, and request thy presence before me!”