by Cole Pain
The room was immersed in silence, but Ren stood his ground. Finally, Marinus began to chuckle.
“Morrus said you were a good man, and you have just proven his words. I apologize for the, shall I say, ‘capture’ of you.” Marinus’ mouth lifted into a semblance of a grin. Although it was still demeaning, it wasn’t unkind. “I didn’t know how you would react. I ordered you to be chained before you stepped foot on the island. I’m sorry you misunderstood.”
Ren’s eyes flashed to Avalon. The LoDrek stood with rigid solemnity, face expressionless. The Drek hadn’t ordered Avalon to close him or administer the drug. Avalon had done those things on his own. For some reason Avalon didn’t want him to see the One. Ren decided to feign ignorance.
“Then why did you order your son to administer a drug and try to close my mind even before I stepped from the ship?”
Marinus’ eyes narrowed. Despite Avalon’s obvious efforts, his face turned crimson.
“Let’s talk of what shall be done,” Marinus said, ignoring the question. Ren didn’t mind. His point had been made. “You said you agreed to come willingly, yet you block your mind. That’s a contradiction.”
“Marinus, I said I would come willingly if I could speak to the One and make a request of him. I haven’t spoken to the One, so I don’t yet come willingly. Morrus assured me I would meet the One before there were any attempts to close my mind. Your son has already broken that agreement. Because of that breech I don’t trust you or your kind. I’ll continue to resist until the promise has been fulfilled.”
Ren knew Marinus wasn’t at fault, but his harsh words seemed to affect the Drek. Marinus harrumphed and turned toward the others. “Feher, go see what’s keeping the One. Avalon, unchain this man. He’s no prisoner, only a soldier in a war.”
“But, Marinus,” Feher began with mock piety. “The High Order has informed me –”
“That he isn’t to see the One?” Marinus asked, peering at Feher. “I think you’ve misunderstood them, Feher. I’ve warned you not to put your own ambitions to me. I know the High Order’s voice from your own. Be wary you pass the test, Feher. It would be a shame if you didn’t.”
Feher hesitated before he made his way to the wooden door, painted white to match the moonstone walls. Avalon knelt to unlock Ren’s chains without meeting his eyes.
Marinus forced a smile. It looked more like a grimace. “I’m sorry you’ve been treated poorly. It wasn’t my intention.”
Ren inclined his head. “And I intended no disrespect.”
Marinus nodded, accepting his words. Ren was about to inquire about Morrus when the door swung open.
The One stood in the doorway. The wizard was just as Markum described: tall, slender, long dark hair, and knowledgeable eyes. But Ren had been correct as well. Zorc eyed him like a viper, not a human. Ren felt the faint hope he carried die within him. This was the One. This was his fate. May the Maker be with him.
As Zorc surveyed him Ren had to battle the urge to step away. There was something uncanny about Zorc’s eyes, something almost perverse. The One inclined his head in the same manor as Marinus, but without the smile.
“They tell me you come willingly. You’re strong to recognize the need, but that’s why you’re the Chosen.” His voice was deep, almost as deep as Morrus’ voice. Ren once again wondered about his friend.
“Please, ask what you would of me, but make haste. Time is limited. I have felt a strong disturbance in the Quy. It can only come from the Red Eye. Barracus will escape soon. If you don’t go behind the door, Barracus will enter you and mold your mind to his purposes.”
“Why not wait to close me? I’m among Druids. They can close me if that should happen.”
Zorc shook his head as his eyes filled with anger. Anger at his question or the implication, Ren was unsure. “Think. Magic had to be destroyed the last time Barracus was in the world.”
“He was immune to Druids?”
“Yes. Barracus alone knew how to evade the Druids, until the Black Knight,” Zorc said, eyes careening over Ren, “and until you.” Zorc waited until the point sunk in. “Do you see why we must hurry? With each heartbeat the threat deepens. If Barracus enters you we’re all lost.”
Ren remained silent, studying the wizard. He felt no liking toward him, but he felt no dislike either. He only felt numb.
“Feher said you had a request?”
Ren nodded, about to speak of Aidan when he realized it was futile. The man before him wouldn’t care about Aidan. He would promise to search for her, but he wouldn’t. Aidan would never know his true feelings. Then he remembered Morrus. Ren made a quick decision to change his request.
“I want Morrus to lead the closing.”
The Druids in the room suddenly lost their calm. Feher drew a breath that would rival any dragon, Marinus’ eyebrows catapulted to his forehead, and Avalon sprang toward him with death in his eyes.
Two whip-like threads crashed into Ren’s barrier. Feher and Avalon were strong, but Ren was prepared. He thwarted their attack, and in the next heartbeat both men felt the backlash of his fury as they were flung away from him even in body. Avalon stumbled to regain his footing, the vehemence in his eyes unmistakable.
The Drek, sensing what had just occurred, glared at Feher and Avalon, face darkening to match Ren’s own. For the first time since arriving on Dresden Ren felt as if another was truly on his side.
Now Ren was sure Morrus was in trouble. He didn’t know why, but it didn’t matter. Morrus was a friend.
Marinus anger melted as curiosity spread across his face. “Why do you ask this?”
“Morrus and I have talked,” Ren said. “I like him, and I believe he likes me. I have no friends here. You wouldn’t allow them to come. I consider Morrus a friend, so I want him to lead the closing. Surely you understand.”
No one moved. The High Priest’s yellow eyes glowed with deep-seated animosity. Ren didn’t know why his request was so startling. They had sent Morrus after him, and at the time Morrus was considered LoDrek. Surely Morrus must be someone important in the Druid cultus. Besides, what did it matter who led his closing as long as he was closed?
Marinus’ pale blue eyes sparked with humor. “A wizard and a Druid, friends?” The Drek’s voice quivered between astonishment and ludicrousness. An odd grin broke one side of Marinus’ downward turned lips before he released an amused chuckle.
Ren wondered if the Drek had laughed in years. The wrinkles on his face displayed tension and worry, not humor.
“I’m sorry, that honor is for the LoDrek,” Marinus said. “Morrus is no longer the LoDrek. Avalon has taken that position.”
Ren turned his gaze to Avalon’s smug expression. So that was why Avalon reacted the way he had. The realization made Ren’s concern increase. What had happened to Morrus?
Ren met the Drek’s gaze with grim determination. “Let me ask you something, Marinus. Someone betrayed you, lied to you, and tried to kill you. Would you want him to lead your funeral? Or would you prefer a friend say words over your corpse?”
His words bit, but he could see the understanding in the Drek’s eyes.
“I’ll only yield if someone I trust leads the closing. Morrus was LoDrek on the journey. He can be LoDrek again. I’m sorry, Marinus, but your son hasn’t given me much to trust.”
“We have no time to waste,” Zorc said, a slight edge to his voice. “If you’re unwilling I’m afraid we’ll have to force you.”
“So be it,” Ren replied. Although he didn’t know how to use the Quy or how he was blocking the Druids from entering his mind, if he resisted every Druid on the island may be unable to close him. Based on the wizard’s foul expression, Ren was right.
“It goes against the Druid law,” Marinus said. “It cannot be done.”
Ren shrugged with casual indifference. “You’re the Drek. You can change the law.”
After a few heartbeats of silent examination, Marinus sighed. “I’ll think on it,”
�
��We don’t have much time, Marinus,” Zorc said. “Time is of the utmost importance.”
Marinus turned and walked to the door. “I said I’d think on it, Zorc.”
Avalon glanced at Ren before he followed Marinus out the door, Feher close behind. Zorc remained, cold eyes perusing Ren’s face. “You play a dangerous game.”
“I don’t play games. What I do is right.”
Zorc didn’t reply. Instead, he turned to leave.
“Why me?”
Zorc turned to face him once again. “Why? You have great strength. Only one of your strength could have released the Quy again.”
It was the answer Ren had expected, but it bothered him. Why couldn’t the One give him a deeper explanation? Even Grauss had explained that he was born under the three internal and external elements. The wizard just brushed the surface.
“And so it ends like this?”
“Yes, this is how it ends.”
A cold chill passed between them. Ren took back his former assessment. He didn’t like the wizard at all.
When Ren didn’t voice another question, Zorc turned and followed the Druids, closing the door behind him. The lock clicked shut. Ren sighed. He may not be in chains, but he was still a prisoner.
- - -
Zorc paced, glancing at the sun every few heartbeats and muttering oaths under his breath. The wizard’s oaths were viler than a group of sailors at midnight, but Galvin understood the wizard’s frustration. A rival crew had slashed the sails of the Seawitch the prior night, and new sails had to be hoisted, which took time they didn’t have. Although Kilmin and his crew scurried around the deck like ants, glancing at Zorc with sweat-filled, fearful faces, they couldn’t hurry the process fast enough.
Galvin had boarded the ship to see if he could help, but he had only managed to interfere. The crew was efficient. As a boy he had worked for a brief time under a ship maker. The Seawitch was one of the finest merchant ships he had ever seen. She was made of rosewood: lightweight, durable, and very expensive.
Kilmin’s crew consisted of eight men, where it usually took at least twelve to take care of a ship so vast, but with the Seawitch’s expert design extra men were unnecessary. Great care had been taken to place its gears and levers close together so one man could do two or more jobs with little effort.
Galvin wondered what kind of cargo sat under the ship’s hull. On the fore and aft of the ship two large catapults were packed with rocks, ready to soar. Most ships had one catapult, maybe two, but not four. Whatever Kilmin did, it wasn’t legal. That suited Galvin fine. It meant Kilmin could dodge trouble blindfolded.
The Seawitch’s rosewood gleamed in the afternoon sun and Galvin itched to board. He loved to sail, and it had been years since he had boarded a vessel as grand as the Seawitch. A wooden maiden, carved with intricate detail, jutted from the fore of the ship, leading it onward to adventures unknown. Her arms swept the air beside her, her long hair lifted from her slender neck, and her parted lips tasted the sea breeze that had given her birth. Galvin wondered whose daughter she was. Most carvings depicted actual women, and this one appeared recently carved. The lines were too defined and the coloring too rich to be an old piece. He was suddenly glad he didn’t know. If he had seen the woman in true form he would have lost his heart.
Someone stepped beside him. Thinking it was Neki, Galvin didn’t turn.
“If you don’t mind me asking, what’s your purpose in sailing to the Druid island?”
Galvin started at the sound of the strange voice and found himself staring into the bluest eyes he had ever seen. The man was about his height, with nape-length wavy brown hair. A long black-hooded cloak enveloped him, concealing all other clothing from view.
When the man brought a black-gloved hand out of his cloak, Galvin noted the rest of him was clothed in black as well. Galvin’s eyes widened. It had been years since he had heard of the man, but when the Knight had ridden through the Lands Galvin had been awestricken. He had even held childish whims of riding to help the man avenge the Lands.
“You’re the Black Knight.”
The man smiled. “I suppose I could be, but it wouldn’t be such a good thing to admit so close to Dresden. Someone could sell such information and become a very rich man.”
Galvin glanced at Zorc, now watching them with growing interest. “But such a man would be a great asset to what we do, although he wouldn’t want to go where we go.”
“Yes, Dresden would be a dangerous place for the Black Knight to ride.”
The man’s gaze shifted out to sea. His jaw clenched as his arms folded. Galvin knew without a shadow of a doubt the Black Knight stood beside him. The anger the man still carried wasn’t only evident, it was catching.
“Although the Black Knight would consider riding on Dresden if he discovered a man by the name of Ren Razon happened to be on the island.” The man’s eyes narrowed. “It’s about time the Druids know who I am.”
Galvin’s hopes soared. Without even considering how the Knight knew of Ren, Galvin nodded. “Ren’s there. He’s the reason we go. If you would accompany us we would be in your debt. Not only would it tip the scales in our favor, I for one would relish the show.”
The Knight smiled, eyes dancing as he leaned toward him. “Between you and me, I’ve always wanted an excuse to make my appearance on Dresden. Once Ren is safe I’ll have to thank the prince for giving me the opportunity.” His smile withered. “If he’s safe. May the Maker’s fates be with him. If he’s safe.”
Zorc inclined his head. “Zorc Val Vincent humbly at your service, fair knight. As the Calvet, the leader of the Alcazar, which is no more I should say,” Zorc said, waving his hand in irritation, “I’ve heard of your deeds and would like to express my deepest gratitude.”
The Black Knight’s eyes narrowed in warning. Galvin stiffened, unsure why the Knight looked at the wizard with rising animosity. Zorc didn’t seem to notice. He rolled to the balls of his feet, smiling with bright enthusiasm.
“As a defender of those born with the power, I should say, fair wizard, the likes of you should have obliterated the Druid race years ago.”
Zorc sighed and nodded, not a hint of irritation finding his face. “Believe me, I’ve considered it many a time, as have most wizards of old, but to wipe out a race is for the Maker to decide, not man. And the Druids are needed in case a wizard turns corrupt. If it weren’t for the Druids more wizards would act on their hunger for power. No, I like the Druids no more than you, perhaps even less, but they’re a necessity I’m afraid. Though a little less of them would be quite to my satisfaction.”
“If they’re such a necessity,” the Black Knight said, “where were they when Barracus took the Lands?”
Zorc raised his pointy eyebrows and rocked to his toes. “The Druids were there, Knight, but Barracus had split his mind, built his own door, and took all of himself behind it, not just pieces. He remained whole and intact behind a door the Druids couldn’t open, a door of his own creation. Correct me if I’m wrong, but that’s exactly what you’ve done, I should say, put all of yourself behind a door.”
After a few breaths, the Black Knight nodded his assent.
“Very admirable, Knight, very admirable indeed.” Zorc tapped his lips with a finger and looked at the Black Knight with a quizzical expression.
Galvin was lost on the entire concept. He would never understand the ways of magic. A hollow ache rose within him as he remembered the glorious sensation he had felt when Zorc had charmed his sword. No, he would never understand, and now he would always yearn to know.
Zorc continued. “I’ve tried to create this door over the years, so my mind is empty and my soul is safe, but I’ve been unsuccessful. I suspect only those who have broken from tradition at a young age can do so. Has this happened?”
The Black Knight considered the wizard’s words. He finally nodded.
Zorc smiled and hooked his hands behind his bony frame in humble satisfaction.
“Gal
vin, Zorc!” Neki was suddenly beside them, face flushed from his hurried approach. As his eyes grazed over the Black Knight a grin lit his face, but it faded within a heartbeat. “Druids are in the brush by the dock. I don’t know how many, but it looks like they’re watching the Divi, making sure Ren isn’t followed.”
“Where?” Zorc asked.
Neki’s eyes shifted to the end of the dock where dense trees created a secure haven. “There’s a fallen tree about fifty paces inside the cluster. They ducked behind it when they heard my approach.”
“You didn’t let on you noticed?” Nigel said.
A wide grin spread across Neki’s face. “No. I like my memories and my vices. I’ve no desire to fight their kind without the likes of you.”
The Black Knight released a boisterous laugh. The sound was surprisingly charming until he brought up his gloved hands and flicked his wrists. Twin daggers sliced through the air, transforming his laughter into something fierce. As fast as the daggers appeared, they disappeared. The Black Knight turned without a word and walked toward the distant tree line, cloak billowing behind him.
“He came just in time,” Neki whispered as they watched the black form move toward the trees.
“Yes,” Zorc said, tucking his arms behind his back and rocking forward to his toes. “He just may be the edge we need to make it out alive.”
- - -
Nigel came back from the woods tucking five black locks of hair inside his cape. He had gained no pleasure from the destruction of life, only mild satisfaction that he may have obtained the ship safe passage to Dresden.
Looking down at the five flail-like instruments in his fist, Nigel shook his head and combed a hand through his hair. Druids were an abominable lot. The flail-like instruments proved it.
Each flail was a different size, the largest as big as his forearm, the smallest only the size of his palm. Each was polished to a silver sheen and had handles carved with enigmatic runes. He had read about the Druids’ sacred instruments, or xectics, before, but had no idea they still existed.
