Fierce Loyalty fk-5

by Toby Neighbors

  * * *

  “Who is that?” Brianna asked, pointing down toward the narrow, winding streets below.

  “I have no idea,” Zollin said, glancing away from what Gwendolyn was doing on the roof for a moment. He knew he needed to do something to stop the sorceress but he wasn’t sure how. Long ago he had learned to recognize magic in other objects and even people. His staff, filled with magical power after being hit with lightning in a storm, had radiated a strong, powerful magic. The willow tree in the forest near his home in Tranaugh Shire had been full of a wonderful, life-giving magic. The white alzerstone ring had seemed to emit a power that repulsed magic. Now, he could feel the magic that Gwendolyn was working, and it sent a shiver of fear up his back. It was so dark it made him feel like he was gazing into a tomb.

  “It’s the wizard!” Brianna exclaimed. “The same one who attacked us.”

  “You mean Offendorl?”

  “Yes, the wizard who has been controlling Bartoom,”

  At the mention of the great, black dragon’s name, Tig roared defiantly. “Where do you think he’s going?” she asked.

  “To the castle,” Zollin said. “I don’t know if he’s going to help her or stop her, but that’s where he’s going.”

  “I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Brianna said.

  “Me too,” Zollin agreed. “I think you better take the dragons and get clear of the city.”

  “What about you?” she asked, the concern in her voice unmistakable.

  “I have to try and stop them,” Zollin said.

  “Not by yourself,” Brianna said.

  “I don’t know what she’s doing,” Zollin explained. “But it’s magic like I’ve never felt before. It’s ancient and it’s evil.”

  Before he could explain further, the castle rooftop burst into flame. The fire formed a perfect circle just outside of the circuit that Gwendolyn had been walking around her sister. The light from the fire made it possible for Zollin to see what was happening, and his magical senses felt the bubble of magic that had formed around the ring of fire.

  “Zollin, please,” Brianna said. “I can’t stand the thought of losing you.”

  “If I don’t do something, we may all be lost.”

  “What do you mean?” Fear echoed in her voice.

  “I don’t know,” Zollin said. “I can’t explain it, Brianna. I just know that whatever she is doing is so bad that it terrifies me. Get your pride out of here.”

  “What about the soldiers?”

  “Warn them if you can, but get away from the city. Go north and wait for me. I’ll find you.”

  Brianna’s lips brushed Zollin’s check, then she ran for the far side of the gaping hole in the tower’s roof. She jumped into the air, falling for only a moment before she went soaring up on a gust of wind. Tig roared, then followed Brianna. Zollin glanced over and saw Ferno, Selix, and the black dragon Bartoom taking to the air as well.

  Zollin watched Brianna moving through the air, gliding like an eagle until Selix flew just beneath her. Then she settled gracefully on the golden dragon’s back and they flew north. Zollin turned his gaze back to the roof of the castle and saw Gwendolyn healing her sister. The sight should have been reassuring, but there was dark intent that seemed to be pouring off the roof of the castle. Zollin shuddered in fear, then he levitated himself and went flying toward the witch.

  Chapter 32

  King Zorlan was exuberant. He had seen the tower of the Torr being ravaged from within, and the Ortisan soldiers were falling before his shield wall. Very few of the men had the fortitude to fight, and those that did were usually wild eyed with blood lust. In most circumstances a berserker type rage would have made them formidable opponents, but against a well-disciplined shield wall, their wild attacks broke like ocean waves against a cliff.

  King Zorlan and his band of soldiers were nearly a quarter of the way around the massive outer wall of the Grand City when the sky began to grow dark. At first the king merely thought that time had passed more quickly than he realized. Then, one of his aides pointed to dark clouds spreading across the sky from directly over the royal castle.

  “What is that?” wondered one of Zorlan’s officers out loud.

  “Sorcery,” Zorlan barked. “What else could it be? I want this position held. Is that understood?”

  “Aye, my liege,” said the officer.

  “Hold this line until I return or send word. I’m going back to check on the progress along the other side of the gatehouse.”

  It took King Zorlan only minutes to see what was happening at the gatehouse. Long before he could travel back along the wall to where his soldiers had been ordered to muster, he could see them flooding back out of the main gate. At first he suspected that a well disciplined counter attack had been mounted by the Ortisan soldiers holding the city, but the soldiers fleeing didn’t regroup outside the gate-they ran in terror from the city. Even as the light faded to the point that it was hard to see, King Zorlan recognized that his conquest was lost. Everyone was fleeing the city.

  Panic rumbled up from the thick stone walls and began to invade King Zorlan’s resolve. The darkness carried with it a feeling of terror that reminded Zorlan of being a child. He couldn’t say what was frightening him, or why he suddenly felt the urge to flee the city. He tried to remain calm, but the feeling of panic grew. He guessed it was a natural reaction to seeing his forces flee the city, but no matter how hard he tried to rationalize his fear and put it away, the panic grew.

  Then the king heard the flapping of great, leathery wings. He looked up and saw that even the dragons were fleeing the city.

  “Sound the retreat!” he bellowed as he ran along the wall. The officers accompanying him were just as panicked and no one obeyed their orders. Some ran past the king, others stayed behind.

  I’m going to die, King Zorlan thought. He had never felt such fear. Even in the days when the other kings bullied him and Offendorl had worked his sorcerous magic so close to Zorlan that the Falxisian king trembled with fright, he had not felt the fear of death that he felt now. He had watched Offendorl slay the Yelsian high counselor in a gruesome fashion that gave him nightmares for days. He had been caught up in the press of battle when the Yelsian heavy horse routed his army, which had been rendered defenseless by an overwhelming sense of panic on the battlefield. That fear had been different, though-it had been mental, like an idea that was hard to get out of one’s head. Now the king felt a certainty in the deepest part of his being that he was going to die.

  Resentment rose up like bile in his throat. Why did he have to pursue such grandiose ideas of glory, he thought. Why go south with an army when he could be safe in his castle in Luxing City? The thoughts were like bees stinging his brain, which had been laid bare and exposed by fear. He no longer cared about an empire, or ruling the Five Kingdoms. He only wanted to get off the infernal wall and out of the Grand City forever.

  * * *

  Havina ran through the streets with long strides that stretched the muscles in her legs and back, but the effort felt good. She carried the circlet of gold in her hand, although she knew she needed to hide it soon. She was far from the tower, moving south, away from the elder wizard. Just the thought of Offendorl made her skin crawl now. The ancient wizard had seemed invincible, his power unlimited. It had lit a fire deep inside her that she had not known existed. She wanted that power, and just being near Offendorl had given her a thrill. But whatever she had felt for him died when she had seen his ancient body covered in dust and grime in the tower. He was just a weak old man and she had no use for him. But, he had revealed how he controlled the great black dragon, and so she had gone to him and taken the circlet. She wasn’t sure how she would use it, but she knew she needed to get out of the city if she was going to have a chance.

  She ran and ran, grateful that she was wearing men’s clothing, including thick boots. As a child she had loved to run barefoot through the sandy hills around Castlebury, but the streets of the
Grand City were paved with cobblestones and there was trash littering the streets. The heavy boots protected her feet; the men’s pants she wore didn’t flutter or tangle up between her legs.

  She saw the livery stable where she had left the horse that had pulled Offendorl’s carriage and decided to duck inside. There were horses still in the stalls. She quickly saddled the nearest horse and climbed into the saddle. As she rode the horse out into the street, she was passed by several soldiers who ignored her, running past and making the horse sidestep nervously. She had noticed the waning light and now she saw the dark clouds spreading across the sky. She settled the circlet on her head and kicked the horse into action, racing for the southern gate as fast as the horse could carry her.

  * * *

  Zollin came down on the roof of the castle, his magic like a bonfire inside him. He knew the unnatural sense of fear that had come over him as he flew toward the castle was stirring his magic into a frenzy. His magical power responded to emotion much more than reason or even will. He could do anything he could envision in his mind, but it was emotion that gave his magic its might.

  He moved slowly toward the ring of fire, which was dancing and whipping almost chest high. The first thing Zollin noticed about the fire was that it wasn’t hot. In fact, the closer he got to the strange, dancing flames, the colder he felt. In almost every instance that he had been near magic, his own internal power had strived to connect with the outside magic. When he had used the staff he’d found in the woods outside of Tranaugh Shire, his magic had naturally connected to that of the staff. When he had battled with Branock and Offendorl, he had felt drawn to the other wizards. But the strange ring of fire was different. Zollin could actually feel his magic striving to move away from the foreign, dark power.

  Nearby, a door opened and Offendorl stepped out onto the roof. Zollin already had his defenses up, but now his whole body tensed. He stood on his toes, ready to dash from harm’s way, but Offendorl took no interest in him. The ancient wizard was pale, his gray strands of hair clinging to his skull and plastered with sweat. He was breathing in great ragged gasps, his eyes wide at the sight of Gwendolyn inside the ring of fire.

  “So, we meet again, master,” she said, ignoring Zollin completely.

  “What are you doing?” Offendorl growled. His voice was ragged, almost hoarse, but still filled with a magical power.

  “I am fulfilling my destiny,” Gwendolyn said. “Surely you know it. I found it hidden in the books you refused to share with me, or anyone else. You have hoarded your power and secret knowledge too long. Now, your strength is broken and mine is just beginning.”

  Offendorl lashed out, casting a stream of crackling fire at Gwendolyn, but the witch just laughed as the fire bounced harmlessly off the invisible barrier created by the ring of fire. Offendorl tried again, this time levitating a massive stone, his face grimacing in pain as his magic began to tear at his physical body from the strain. The stone flew through the air and Zollin moved backward, away from the ring of fire, raising his own shields to ensure that he wasn’t hurt by the stone. The rock crashed into the invisible barrier and shattered, sending shards of rock flying in all directions except toward Gwendolyn.

  Offendorl rocked unsteadily on his feet, and even though Zollin knew the elder wizard was evil and dangerous, he felt sorry for his ancient adversary. Gwendolyn just laughed, the flames around her and her warlock sister growing higher and becoming translucent.

  “I want you to see,” Gwendolyn laughed. “I want you to see it all, old man. And you,” she said, turning to Zollin. “I want you see real power. You may have resisted me in the past, but no longer. I shall unleash a power the world has not seen since the dawn of time.”

  “Don’t do it,” Zollin said. “We’ll give you the city. You can rule Osla.”

  Gwendolyn frowned. “Do you honestly think you can buy my obedience? Shall I bow and lick your boots because you want to give me what I already have? Osla is mine; the Five Kingdoms will cower in fear before me. I shall become the great queen of darkness, the immortal god of this world. Then I shall have your bones polished and hung on the walls of my throne room as a reminder to all who might oppose me.”

  Zollin wanted to run, but he couldn’t turn away.

  “We must stop her,” Offendorl said, his voice sounding weak and strained.

  “How?” Zollin asked.

  “Break the barrier and her spell shall be broken.”

  “How do I break the barrier?”

  But Offendorl didn’t answer-he was struggling just to breathe. Zollin moved closer to the ring of fire. He knew the dark magic was strong, having just seen it resist Offendorl’s attacks. Zollin reached his hand toward the dancing flames, even as his breath billowed in thick clouds of steam from the cold. Zollin remember lying helpless in the snow deep in the Northern Highlands. The cold then had seeped into his body, first burning and then hardening as if his body were freezing solid. The ring of fire seemed even colder, but he believed Offendorl. Gwendolyn was planning something terrible and she had to be stopped.

  Zollin touched the dancing flame, the cold so terrible that he almost instinctively pulled back, but instead he pushed his hand through. The flames didn’t resist, but he could feel his arm burning with frostbite. He jumped across the barrier.

  “You dare enter the circle of power?” Gwendolyn hissed.

  Andomina was healed, but her skin was wrinkled and warped from the fire that had burned her in the tower of the Torr. She lay flat on the rooftop, her naked, hideously disfigured body outlined by what looked like white powder.

  “You must stop,” Zollin said. “Your sister needs help. End this dark magic and I will heal her.”

  Gwendolyn laughed.

  “My sweet sister, burned by your dragons,” she said. “Now you care about her, about us?”

  “I don’t want to see you fall into darkness,” Zollin said.

  “I live in darkness, fool. I come from the darkness, and now I summon it forth.” Gwendolyn raised a wicked looking dagger with a black blade and silver scrollwork.

  Zollin acted without thinking, levitating the knife from Gwendolyn’s hands. The witch fought back, sending an icy blast at Zollin that pushed him back toward the flames.

  “Don’t leave the circle,” Offendorl shouted.

  Zollin tried to push back with his own power, but he was too close to the flames-the icy cold seemed to sear his back and sap his own magical strength. He felt his feet sliding across the rooftop’s gritty surface. He knew he couldn’t push back hard enough to stop Gwendolyn from pushing him out of the circle, so he spun to the side. Gwendolyn followed his movement, but she was a fraction slower than Zollin, who kept moving. He ran, moving a little further from the ring of fire with each step. Then, when he felt his strength returning, he sent a wave of magic hurtling toward Gwendolyn.

  The witch raised her defenses, but at the last minute Zollin altered the wave’s course and pushed Andomina toward the ring of fire.

  “Don’t touch her!” Gwendolyn shouted, her voice cracking with fear.

  “She’s the one with power,” Zollin taunted. “You’re nothing but a controlling witch with no real power of your own.”

  Gwendolyn took hold of Andomina with a magical grip, but Zollin reacted again, this time sending an electrical blast at Gwendolyn. The magic found it’s mark, but Gwendolyn had a magical shield up to protect herself. The magical energy snapped and popped, but did no damage to Gwendolyn. The witch then turned her eyes back to Zollin and he felt the fight go out of him. Instead of fighting, he wanted to take Gwendolyn in arms. He wanted to protect her, to make her happy, to make her love him.

  “Men are all the same,” Gwendolyn said. “You may be stronger than I am, but your weaknesses are obvious and oh so pathetic.”

  “Fight her charms,” Offendorl snarled from outside the circle.

  “No, fight him,” Gwendolyn said. “Leave the ring of fire and kill Offendorl. Then I’ll give you what you want. W
hat every man wants. Me.”

  Zollin felt the decision to obey Gwendolyn was wrong somehow, but he wanted to obey her. He wanted to do whatever she wanted. Fighting her was painful; he wanted to give in. He turned and ran outside the ring of fire.

  Immediately the knife dropped to the ground. Gwendolyn summoned it magically, levitating it into her hand and plunging it down into Andomina’s heart in one fluid motion.

  As soon as he stepped out of the circle, Zollin knew that he had made the wrong decision. It was like a brand of shame burning into his shoulder, a mistake that he could never take back or undo.

  Lightning began to shoot down from the black clouds overhead.

  “Nooooo!” Offendorl shouted.

  Zollin wasn’t sure what was happening, but he could feel the dark magic surging.

  Something bad was about to happen and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

  Chapter 33

  What happened next was seen by people all over the kingdom of Osla, and in parts of Falxis and Otis. Light seemed to pour down from the sky above the darks clouds. The light was brighter than the sun, causing people to cover their eyes and look away from the sky. Then the light focused, and a fiery object was seen plunging toward the earth.

  When the object broke through the smoke, Gwendolyn looked up, her sister’s lifeblood staining her hands. Zollin had felt Andomina’s magical power wink out, like a candle snuffed between two fingers, but the dark, sinister magic had only grown. The fiery object slowed as it descended.