“She asked the archmage for a new assignment. I shouldn’t have lost my temper, but the woman was driving me nuts. Hopefully she’ll be okay.”
“I thought she’d gotten more stable,” Jen said.
Imogen had violent, sometimes suicidal tendencies and one of the reasons he agreed to partner up with her was to keep an eye out for her bad spells. “She’s definitely better. I can’t do anything about it now anyway. Still, if she does something crazy…”
“If she does something crazy, it won’t be your fault.” Jen had an armful of sticks now. “You’re not responsible for everything, little brother.”
“Thanks, Jen.” Damien conjured a soul force bubble around her sticks and crushed them down to a small ball then flicked his wrist, sending the ball soaring out over the city. He put enough power behind it to make sure it reached the Great Green, the massive forest that covered over half the kingdom.
A moment later he sensed the approaching energy of one of his master’s message spheres. The golden orb flew out onto the training field, stopped a few feet from Damien, and transformed into the words, “Throne room, both of you.”
Jen glanced at him. The archmage seldom summoned them together. “What do you suppose this is about?”
He didn’t have a clue but hoped it would be something interesting.
Chapter Two
The northern wind cut Sigurd Iceborn to the bone, even with a soul force shield surrounding him. In every direction, snow and ice spread out for as far as the eye could see. Not that he could see very far with the gale blowing in his face. Sig had lived in the northernmost lands of the kingdom his entire life, but nothing in those twenty years had prepared him for the Ice Queen’s realm.
Luckily for Sig, he didn’t need his eyes to find what he sought. The Ice Queen’s power was such that he sensed her location from five hundred miles away. The dragon’s overwhelming might screamed at him to run away as fast as possible.
He ignored the feeling and trudged on. It would have been far easier to fly to her lair, but Sig didn’t want to draw any more attention than necessary, or worse, run out of soul force and freeze to death. His plan was mad enough, he didn’t need to do anything to increase his chances of getting eaten the moment he arrived.
The bitter cold of the wind matched the bitterness filling Sig’s heart. When his father told him he planned to name his little sister — his pathetic, weakling of a little sister — heir to Iceborn Duchy he assumed it was a joke.
It quickly became apparent that Father was dead serious. He claimed Sig lacked the temperament to manage the duchy. Too much anger, he said. It would be better for everyone if Sig didn’t have to shoulder the burden of rule.
Only by the barest thread did Sig keep from killing his father on the spot. If Father hadn’t already registered the formal papers declaring Sig disowned, he might have struck him down and taken his chances. As it was, the act would’ve been meaningless. So Sig bowed his head and accepted his father’s pronouncement.
Until they were alone that night at least. He used sorcery to compel his father to reveal the true reason behind his decision. The answer nearly gagged Sig. Father had agreed to disown him in exchange for Damien’s promise not to kill him in their duel.
That his father had made such an important decision based on sentiment rather than cold logic made it even worse. And his lack of faith — even his father hadn’t believed he had a chance of defeating Damien. Sig had left in a fury, taking nothing but the clothes on his back. He wandered for weeks, trying to decide who he hated more, Damien or his father.
In the end, he decided Damien would feel his wrath first. The problem was, he lacked the power to even annoy the younger sorcerer. Hence his current visit to the far north. If Sig convinced the dragon to grant him a portion of her power, he’d have strength enough to crush Damien and regain his rightful place as future duke.
A walnut-sized piece of hail plinked off his shield. Sig hadn’t allowed himself to think too hard about how he’d convince the Ice Queen to grant his wish, especially given her apparent hatred of humans. If he’d thought too much, he might have lost the nerve to set out at all.
He was committed now. Either he’d convince the dragon or he’d die trying.
Sig continued on through the snow for another half hour before the first hint of movement caught his eye. One moment a vague shape appeared in the storm only to vanish a moment later. The dragon’s proximity made it impossible to sense anything else, but Sig had sufficient experience to know something was out there, taunting him before it moved in for the kill.
Whether animal or ogre, whatever hunted Sig wouldn’t find him easy prey. Maybe he wasn’t a match for Damien St. Cloud, but nothing wandering these wastes could threaten him, short of the dragon herself.
Yard after frozen yard he continued dead north. His unwelcome companion kept pace, appearing and disappearing at random. Twice Sig fired a blast of soul force at it but hit only snow. Ignoring it seemed to be the best course, at least until it made a decisive move. Meanwhile, every step brought him closer to his destination.
The first blow hit Sig with enough force to send him ten feet into the air. His attacker moved with such speed he saw nothing until it struck.
He landed hard and skidded across a patch of ice. His shield protected him from injury, but the strength of the impact drained a fair chunk from his core. Many more blows like that and he’d be nothing but a red smear in the snow.
Enough playing around. His opponent clearly couldn’t fly. Sig gathered his strength and hurtled toward the sky.
A shape appeared from above and struck his head. Sig crashed into the snow with enough force to gouge a three-foot-deep trench.
He groaned and tried to sit up.
His head had barely lifted off the snow when a pale-blue club came streaking in.
His shield shattered and his head snapped back, bouncing off the hard-packed snow.
The world spun and he knew no more.
Chapter Three
Sig flashed in and out of awareness. The stink of unwashed bodies too powerful for the cold to mask sickened him. His knees and hips ached. The wind continued to howl, and shivers convulsed his body.
When he’d lost consciousness, his personal shield – the only thing keeping him warm – vanished. His eyes fluttered open for a moment and he caught a glimpse of massive, blue-skinned bodies surrounding him. The ogres were dragging him somewhere.
He tried to concentrate, at least long enough to restore his shield, but his mind refused to obey. The blow he took must have damaged him worse than he first thought. These damn monsters were probably taking him back to whatever passed for a village in this wasteland to turn him into supper.
Cursing his weakness, Sig tried again to summon his power and again he failed.
Pathetic.
Damien never would have been captured like this. How could Sig even consider challenging him when some stupid brute ogres defeated him?
Time passed, and he flashed to awareness again. The wind had fallen silent at last. He forced his frozen eyelids open and stared up at an icy tunnel’s ceiling. Needle-sharp stalactites of ice waited for a chance to fall and skewer him. Where the hell was he? With the wind gone all he heard was the thump of his captors’ feet.
Sig tried to tap his core and this time the power flowed, sluggishly, but anything at this point was an improvement. Focusing with all his might, he reconstructed his shield and agitated the air trapped inside to warm it. Even that tiny bit of heat felt amazing, at least until his toes started to thaw. The pain from that forced him to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from crying out. If the ogres noticed he was awake, they might hit him again, and right now Sig was in no shape to fight.
They continued deeper into the tunnel. His captors passed several branches but kept to the main path. Slow and subtle, Sig increased the power to his shield, making it rigid around his shoulders to reduce the strain of being dragged.
With his mind
clearing by the moment, he considered making a break for it. Now that he’d regained awareness he discovered he was nearly on top of the dragon. It appeared the ogres were taking him exactly where he wanted to go. For the moment he’d play dead and let them. Arriving as a prisoner wouldn’t make the best first impression, but it would get him an audience.
Ten minutes later they passed a row of masked ogres standing at the edge of the tunnel. They soon left the masked ogres behind and entered a huge vaulted cavern. The ceiling was so far above him Sig couldn’t see it in the dark. The ogres’ steps echoed as they moved deeper inside.
He grunted when they dropped him. His captors withdrew and soon he heard nothing but the beating of his heart.
“Stand, human,” said a voice of such power and depth it hurt his ears. “Your act may fool my servants, but it doesn’t deceive me.”
Sig swallowed and eased his way up, being careful to do nothing the dragon might interpret as a threat. When he reached his feet and looked up, he realized the stupidity of his concern. The Ice Queen towered over him, a creature of spikes and jagged edges. She shifted, and the entire cavern trembled. What arrogance had seized him to think he might do anything to threaten such a creature? No wonder the ogres withdrew. She clearly needed no protectors.
Eyes with vertical pupils as long as he was tall bore into Sig. It felt like the dragon was looking straight into his soul.
“Why have you entered my domain?” the Ice Queen asked.
Sig tried to answer and found he had no voice. He coughed and tried again. “I wish to offer my services.”
“Why?”
“I need more power to defeat my enemy. I knew nowhere else to find it.”
Her booming laugh drove him to his knees. “I admire your honesty. How deeply you must hate this enemy if you’re willing to join my servants in the slaughter of your fellow humans.”
His stomach twisted, and he nearly threw up. In truth, he only wanted to kill Damien and maybe his father. He held no ill will toward the soldiers of the kingdom.
Sig swallowed his bile and clambered back up. “I had hoped to serve in another way. My enemy is a powerful sorcerer. By giving me the strength to kill him, it would help your force when next you move against the kingdom.”
“Ah, I see. You think I’ll give you the strength to satisfy your desires in the hope that it might serve me in some small way. Clearly, you’re as stupid as you are arrogant. There are no half measures. If I grant you power, you will serve me for the rest of your days in whatever way I desire. Perhaps I will allow you to kill this enemy you so despise. Or perhaps I won’t. That is for me to decide. Of course, I may simply snuff you out like the vermin you are and let my ice trolls feed on your corpse.”
He winced. Clearly Sig had badly misjudged how the dragon would react to his offer. He tried to think of something he might add as a sweetener to change her mind, but standing in the presence of something so powerful, he couldn’t imagine anything a mortal like him had to offer.
“You are in luck, little human. You have arrived just in time for the Millennial Choosing. A contest will be held to find one worthy to be my champion in the most important contest in the world. Your drive in coming this far has impressed me. I will give you a chance to prove yourself worthy of my blessing.”
His heart leapt. Given the chance, surely he’d prove himself better than any grubby ogre.
“Should you win the contest, I may allow you to kill this enemy of yours before you return to my side to serve me for the rest of your days.”
If he accepted, there was no guarantee of getting what he wanted. Not that he held any illusions about what would happen if he refused. There was no duchy in his future unless he ruled it in the dragon’s name. And was that really so much worse than ruling in the king’s name?
“What must I do?”
“The first contest begins tomorrow. Survive until morning and I’ll tell you more.”
Chapter Four
“Professor Dorius?”
Damien didn’t recognize the wiry little man with the gray beard standing in front of the throne, but his sister obviously did. The stranger wore formal robes, but the boots sticking out from the red hem were scuffed and carried specks of mud. Whoever he was, he didn’t spend his days inside.
The scores of chairs filling the audience chamber were empty, the courtiers having left for lunch. Speaking of which, Damien could use a bite himself. The only people in the room were Uncle Andy, better known as King Andrew; Damien’s master, Archmage Lidia Thorn; and Professor Dorius.
Damien and Jen bowed to the king before Damien asked, “Is everything all right, Master?”
“No,” the archmage said. “We have two problems, hence the reason I called you both. Jennifer, I believe you’ve met the professor. Damien, this is Professor Dorius, one of the leading scholars at King’s College. He’s been exploring the underground ruins for years now, but he’s run into a problem. Professor?”
“Yes, well, in my most recent delving I discovered something interesting: a door I can’t open. It clearly leads to something important, at least judging by the surrounding markings. I’ve searched for weeks for some way to move it, but if there’s a release, it’s beyond my ability to locate. My theory is that the makers of this door were sorcerers and it can only be opened by a sorcerer. Thus the reason for my visit to the capital.”
Damien wasn’t sure he understood. “You want me to go exploring?”
The archmage smiled. “I want you to help the professor, yes. I’ve watched you moping around. You need a change of location almost as badly as Imogen. You’re just not built for the quiet life, Damien. Too much of your father in you.”
“Wait,” Jen said. “How do you know there isn’t an army of those black goblins behind this locked door? It might have been sealed for a reason.”
Jen had told him about her battle with the goblins in the ruins and how they resisted sorcery. Damien’s heart raced at the thought of getting to fight one. He hadn’t had a challenge in far too long.
“Don’t worry,” Dorius said. “Judging from the markings there’s a place of worship beyond the door. I believe it’s some sort of cathedral.”
“But you don’t know,” Jen said.
“No one can know until the door is opened.”
“I’m game.” Damien jumped in before his sister made her next argument. Despite his power she still acted like he couldn’t take care of himself. He loved her for it, but sometimes she got carried away. “When do we leave?”
“I acquired three months’ worth of supplies before coming to the castle,” Dorius said. “We can depart as soon as you’re ready.”
“I need ten minutes to pack. Where do you want to meet?”
“The eastern gate,” Dorius said.
Damien nodded and looked to his master.
“Go on, have fun.”
“Damien.” Uncle Andy spoke for the first time. “Take care of yourself. The kingdom can’t afford to lose you.”
Damien raised an eyebrow and the king’s stern expression cracked. “Karrie and I would be upset as well.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. I’ve got Lizzy to look after me.” He grinned and jogged out of the throne room.
A little less than ten minutes later he joined the professor at the east gate. Dorius had traded his formal robes for a leather duster that hung down to his knees. He held the lead of a heavily laden mule.
“You’re not planning to walk the whole way, are you?” Damien asked.
“Did you have another suggestion?”
“I’m a sorcerer, I figured we’d fly. I can get us anywhere in the kingdom in two hours.”
Dorius brightened. “Excellent. There’s an inn where I leave the mule while I’m underground. Follow the main road two hundred miles then turn down the southern branch for another fifty and you’ll see the inn.”
Damien conjured a sphere around the professor and his mule. The three of them rose above the tree line and
shot off like a crossbow bolt.
An adventure at last. Damien could hardly wait.
Chapter Five
Jen watched her brother run off and fought to keep from worrying. It didn’t matter that she’d witnessed him level mountains a few months ago, Damien would always be her little brother and now that Dad was gone, she had to do all the worrying herself. Not that she imagined her father worrying all that much.
She couldn’t deny how happy he looked. After being cooped up in the city Jen didn’t blame him for being excited. Hopefully, he’d keep his wits and not do anything crazy.
Who was she kidding? Dorius was more likely to get them into trouble than Damien.
“Jennifer,” the archmage said. “He’ll be fine. And there’s the matter of my second problem.”
Jen gave a little shake and forced Damien out of her mind. “Right. How may I be of service?”
“Are you familiar with the Inn Between?”
Jen pursed her lips. “I think so. It’s a couple days’ ride west of here, right? We stopped there a few times when we were out on patrol.”
The archmage nodded. “That’s the one. There was an incident two nights ago. The stable boy who brought word nearly killed his horse getting here. Someone massacred all the guests. The boy only survived because he was out grooming the horses instead of inside sleeping. It sounds like a real mess and you need to get to the bottom of it.”
“I’ll gather my team and be there by dark.” She glanced at Uncle Andy. “Have you decided on a new champion?”
“Are you certain you don’t want the position?” he asked.
“Not a chance. I’m not as disciplined as Dad. If some noble mouths off to me I’m liable to knock his teeth out.”
“Yes, I heard about your run-ins with Captain Tosh. Still, I’d prefer someone I have total faith in.”
“There are ways of making sure someone is loyal.” Jen turned towards the archmage. “Right?”
Dreaming in the Dark_Chains of the Fallen Volume 1 Page 2
