“Quite a view,” he said, tossing a rock into the sky and cocking his head to listen for its impact.
“I think we’ll stay here for a while,” Alexander said, hobbling into his Wizard’s Den and straight to his bed.
“Tore your wound open again, didn’t you?” Lita said, pulling a chair up in front of him and inspecting the blood-soaked bandage wrapped around his leg.
Chapter 2
Alexander materialized in the room where Isabel, Lacy, and Wren were eating lunch. He knew in a glance that their situation had gone from bad to worse. Isabel’s colors swirled in a contest between her will and Azugorath’s. Lacy and Wren wore Andalian slave collars. All three looked like they were on the verge of breaking.
Isabel stood, forcing a smile.
“You’re still alive.”
“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”
Her smile turned more genuine.
“Phane said you were a prisoner. I feared the worst.”
“The Andalians had one of those collars on me for a while, but I’m free now. How are you holding up?” he asked, worry creasing his brow.
“Phane has discovered a spell that makes me lose control to the Wraith Queen,” Isabel said, matter-of-factly.
“But you’ve managed to resist,” Alexander said. “I can see the turmoil in you. I know this is hard, but you have the strength to fight this. Just hang on a little while longer. I’m coming for you.”
“No. You can’t,” Isabel said. “Phane told me that Elred Rake is going to blindside the Ruathan Army from the north and that Abel has been charmed by the Sin’Rath. You have to fight this war … coming here would probably just get you killed.”
“Isabel,” he said sharply, snapping her back to reality. “Don’t you dare give in to him.”
She nodded tightly, a tear sliding down her cheek. “I’ll keep fighting, Alexander, I promise. But you have to go help Ruatha and Ithilian.”
He could see that she was almost out of hope. She seemed to be holding on more out of habit than conviction.
“Things have changed, Isabel,” he said intently, trying to reach through her despair and speak to the woman he’d fallen in love with. “Mithel Dour has fallen, the force lances are gone, and Mage Gamaliel has crafted a weapon from the vitalwood capable of banishing Azugorath.”
She blinked several times, then smiled at him, her colors overwhelming the dark taint and banishing it in a rush.
“You’ve been busy,” she said. “But you still have to go see about Ruatha and Ithilian before you come for me.”
“I will,” Alexander said. “I plan to have a good look around before we move again.”
“I love you,” she said.
“I love you,” he said, fading out of sight and moving to Ruatha with a thought. He found General Talia on Kai’Gorn’s highest battlement, startling the man when he materialized beside him.
“Lord Reishi,” Talia said with a respectful nod.
“Report,” Alexander said.
“Our insurgent offensive destroyed sixty percent of their shipbuilding capacity along the northern coast. In addition, we’ve employed many of the displaced shipbuilders in several new shipyards we’re constructing in the Western Province.”
“Well done,” Alexander said. “I’ve borrowed Kiera and her wing rider for the moment, but you’ll have them back soon.” Alexander spent a few minutes briefing General Talia on Andalia’s recent misfortunes.
“I recommend we press our advantage,” Talia said.
“I agree. Wage war against Andalia as you see fit, General.”
General Talia saluted, fist to heart, as Alexander faded out of sight.
He decided to evaluate the threat against Ruatha before visiting his father and the wizards. After a momentary rush of immeasurable speed, he was floating high over New Ruatha. Finding no army, he moved east until he found the bulk of the Ruathan Army encamped near Headwater. A few leagues farther, he found a unit of Andalian Lancers fighting a losing retreat against two legions of Rangers picking at them with arrows.
Moving farther east, he found the bulk of the Andalian forces pulling back to Buckwold and manning a series of fortifications they’d built near the city itself. Alexander expected that their confidence had been shaken when the force lances stopped working. Good enough.
He thought of Elred Rake and found him at the head of a legion marching south out of the northern wilds of Ruatha. Rake sat atop a rhone and he was cradling a staff with colors that screamed of magic, ancient and potent. Three wraithkin walked among his retinue, blinking forward occasionally to keep up with the horses. Two wizards accompanied him along with a number of military commanders and men-at-arms.
Stretching out behind them was an assortment of thugs and ruffians, a mercenary force just over ten thousand strong. No match for Ruatha’s army, but significant enough to require attention … and the commitment of resources. They were headed toward Blackstone Keep.
Alexander appeared in the middle of the road a few dozen feet in front of them. All of the riders reined their horses to a stop while the three wraithkin blinked forward, lining up before Alexander.
Rake’s staff flared with color and he flickered momentarily as a suit of armor made from nearly invisible magical force encapsulated him from head to toe. His eyes narrowed suspiciously before he sent a force-shard from the tip of his staff right through Alexander’s projection.
“He’s just an illusion,” Rake said, dismounting. He sauntered through the three wraithkin and stopped a few feet from Alexander, smiling with a sense of gleeful triumph. While his demeanor was unsettling, his colors proclaimed that he believed victory was at hand.
“He’s harmless,” Rake said, waving his staff through Alexander. Several of his people dismounted, fanning out behind him and the wraithkin.
“What do you want, Pretender?”
“Oh, the only thing I want from you, I’m quite certain I’m going to have to take,” Alexander said.
“You may have had all the advantages before, but not anymore,” Rake said, brandishing the staff like it was a trophy.
“I see you’ve got a new walking stick,” Alexander said, idly wondering what advantages Rake thought Alexander had enjoyed over the past year.
Rake scowled. “You know very well what this is!”
“Looks like a staff to me.”
Rake deflated slightly. “You really don’t know?”
“Don’t know what?”
“This is Mage Cedric’s war staff,” Rake said triumphantly, brandishing the staff again.
Alexander hesitated, trepidation seeping into his psyche.
“Ah, now you understand … this was supposed to be yours, but I stole it right out of the Bloodvault.”
Now he was worried.
“What’s the matter? No quip?” Rake asked, casually lowering the staff tip at him. He spoke a single word, the staff’s colors flared, and Alexander was scattered into the firmament.
Instinctively, almost without conscious intent, he found himself in the place where the witness lived. Bringing his psyche back together was much easier as well, all vestiges of the fear he’d initially felt at being scattered into the firmament had vanished.
Whole again, he thought of the Bloodvault. It was intact, but the corpse of a wraithkin was frozen halfway inside one wall, a mask of fear and pain etched into his face. It looked like he’d been trying to walk through the wall when the stone remembered that it was supposed to be solid. Unfortunately, his hands were clear of the wall, so it was a safe bet that Rake had everything that was inside the Bloodvault.
Alexander thought of Erik Alaric and appeared in the encampment at the base of Blackstone Keep. His brother-in-law was addressing a formation of troops arrayed before him.
“Lord Reishi,” Erik said when Alexander appeared beside him.
“Hello, Erik. I’ve come to warn you,” Alexander said. “Rake has secured a powerful magical staff and he’s headed this way. You have
about four days before he arrives.”
“I have a regiment here,” Erik said. “We can defend the Keep from within, but we can’t hold out for long in a siege.”
“Do you have horses for all of your men?”
“And then some.”
“Good. Put a small unit of men in the Keep to hold the bridge. Make sure they have plenty of arrows. Use the rest of your men to keep Rake occupied until my father can send help.”
“Understood, Lord Reishi,” Erik said, hesitating for a moment, worry rippling through his colors.
“She’s alive, but Phane still has her.”
Erik nodded, looking down at the ground.
“I’m going to get her back,” Alexander said. “No matter what.”
Erik nodded again, swallowing hard.
Alexander flickered out of sight and appeared in a command tent near Headwater.
Duncan looked up from the map he was studying and smiled. “It’s good to see you, Son.”
Alexander spent a few minutes providing his father and Hanlon with a thorough report on the state of affairs as he understood them, then listened while his father offered an equally detailed yet succinct report on the progress being made against the Lancers now that their force lances were useless.
“In short, we have the Andalians on the run,” Duncan said. “Even after I send a regiment of Rangers to bolster Erik’s forces, I expect to have northern Ruatha secure by early summer. By then, Talia will probably control half of Andalia.
“I’m more concerned about Abel and Ithilian. Ruatha won’t have much of a crop this year. Without food shipments from Ithilian, a lot of people will go hungry.”
Alexander nodded. “I’m going to have a look at Abel’s situation right after I see Lucky and Kelvin.”
“Be safe, Son. I love you.”
“I love you, too,” Alexander said before vanishing. He moved with a thought to Glen Morillian, projecting his image into Lucky’s workshop, finding the rotund alchemist working at a table filled with bubbling and sputtering glassware. His colors were flaring with power as he directed his will and magic into his creation.
Alexander waited quietly, not wanting to disturb his old tutor lest his work be ruined. After several minutes, Lucky held up a small glass beaker, swirling the contents and sighing wearily as he shook his head.
“Hi, Lucky,” Alexander said.
He turned with a start. “Oh, my boy, it’s good to see you,” he said, looking down a moment later and shaking his head. “I’m afraid my success has been quite limited. It took twenty-three tries before I was able to produce a single batch of Wizard’s Dust, and while my rate of success has improved, I still fail far more often than I succeed.”
“I’m glad you’ve stuck with it,” Alexander said, smiling. “Most people would have quit after the first failure.”
“But I’ve only succeeded three times,” he said, shaking his head again.
“That’s three times more than anyone else in the past two thousand years,” Alexander said. “What you’re doing is difficult, and it should be. That you’ve succeeded at all is wondrous. Don’t be so hard on yourself, Lucky.”
“But we have seventeen good candidates for the mana fast, and I was hoping to have enough Wizard’s Dust for all of them by now.”
“Even one new wizard would help us,” Alexander said. “Just keep at it.”
“I will, of course.”
“Good,” Alexander said, then spent several minutes recounting all that had happened since they’d last spoken. Lucky listened intently, smiling broadly when Alexander told him about Mithel Dour and the Lancers, but shedding a tear when he learned that Isabel was still in Phane’s grasp.
“Any word of Abigail?”
“Not yet. I plan on visiting her after I look in on Ithilian and Abel.”
Lucky nodded. “She and the Coven would be best suited to deal with the Sin’Rath.”
“As much as I hate to send her against them, I was thinking the same thing. Keep at it, Lucky. Slow progress is better than no progress.”
“Take care, my boy,” Lucky said as Alexander faded out of sight.
His next stop was Kelvin’s workshop. If Lucky’s workspace was a study in organized chaos, Kelvin’s was the exact opposite. Over forty men were busy at work, hammering, forging, bending and shaping elements of Kelvin’s various projects. While they moved about in seemingly random fashion, a few moments of observation revealed just how well-organized Kelvin’s efforts really were. The big Guild Mage stood in his planning room, staring at a remarkably complex diagram hanging on the wall.
“Hello, Kelvin,” Alexander said, materializing beside him.
It took Kelvin a moment to tear his focus away from the diagram.
“Alexander, it’s good to see you.”
“You as well,” Alexander said, quickly briefing Kelvin on all that had transpired over the past weeks and months.
“I’m gratified that Luminessence has lived up to my hopes,” Kelvin said.
“And then some,” Alexander said. “I’m hoping you can help me with something else. Have you ever heard of Mage Cedric’s war staff?”
“Only in legend. It was said to be extraordinarily powerful. Cedric used it to hold Malachi Reishi’s armies at bay for decades, though the accounts I’ve read don’t mention specifics.”
“I’ll have to ask the sovereigns about it,” Alexander said. “If it is that powerful, then Blackstone may be at risk.”
“I can spare two wizards to support Erik,” Kelvin said. “Hopefully, that will be enough. As for the Sin’Rath, I believe I can help Abigail defeat them. I’ve used the shavings and sawdust that remained after I carved Luminessence to enchant three arrows with light-based banishment spells. While the Sin’Rath are not entirely demonic, I’m confident that these arrows will kill them.”
“Outstanding,” Alexander said. “From what Isabel tells me, they’re extremely dangerous. Abigail will need all the help she can get.”
“I’ll put together a quiver with a few additional arrows she might find useful and send a Sky Knight to deliver it at once.”
“Thank you, Kelvin,” Alexander said, fading away.
The world rushed by and Alexander found himself floating in a large command tent. Abel was sitting at the head of a long table flanked by two of the most beautiful women that Alexander had ever seen. He had to focus on their dark and angry colors to remind himself that they weren’t what they seemed to be. Prince Torin and General Brand sat to Abel’s right while Mage Lenox sat to his left. Several more high-ranking officers and nine wizards occupied the remaining chairs. A nervous-looking junior officer stood at rigid attention at the far end of the table, his eyes flicking from Abel to the Sin’Rath and back again.
“My orders were clear,” Abel said, with a hint of anger in his voice. His colors swirled with turmoil and magic. “You were supposed to escort every single wizard from the Ithilian Guild back here. Can you explain to me why you disobeyed my orders?”
“Lord Abel, please forgive me, but the wizards refused,” the young officer said. “They agreed to send only those who chose to accompany me. The rest remained behind, claiming that you don’t have the authority to command them under Ithilian law.”
Abel started to respond but stopped short when Peti whispered in his ear. He listened intently, nodding slightly as she spoke.
“You are dismissed,” he said to the officer. The young man seemed relieved as he hastily left the tent. “General Brand, send a regiment of soldiers to the Wizards Guild and forcibly escort all remaining wizards back here.”
“By your command, Lord Abel,” General Brand said, standing and offering a salute before striding purposefully from the room. His colors were infected with darkness as well, but differently and more intensely than Abel’s. Alexander floated closer to the general, finding what he feared he would find: bite marks on his neck.
Peti looked over at Agneza and they shared a smile.
“You
were right, Sister,” Agneza said. “Our coven will be reborn.”
“More powerful than ever,” Peti said. “Once the Reishi Coven is no more, there will be none who can stand in our way. The Seven Isles will be ours.”
They both laughed while the men around the table looked on, enthralled by their magic.
It’s never easy, Alexander thought to himself, floating through the tent and up over the Gate encampment. The countryside flashed by in a blur and he was in the Ithilian Wizards Guild. A number of wizards sat around a table talking of magic so esoteric and arcane that Alexander scarcely understood the meanings of the words they were using. He appraised them for a moment, scrutinizing their colors before appearing at the end of the table.
Several stood quickly, a few began muttering the words of a spell, but one stood and bowed. “Lord Reishi, welcome to the Ithilian Wizards Guild. How can we be of service?” The other wizards stopped their spells and regarded Alexander with wary interest.
“Hello, Wizard Petronius. I’m glad to see that Phane hasn’t gotten his hooks into you again.”
The wizard withdrew a talisman from under his shirt. “I had this enchanted to ensure that I would never be possessed again.”
“A wise precaution,” Alexander said. “I’ve come with a warning. The Sin’Rath have taken Abel and the wizards who obeyed his summons. Their intent is to breed with your wizards and then sacrifice them to their offspring in order to reconstitute their coven.”
“Dear Maker,” one wizard said.
“We have to help them,” another said.
There was a murmur of assent.
“No,” Alexander said. “There’s little you can do. The Sin’Rath will charm you the moment you get near them. You have to hide. You have to work against them from the shadows, from a distance, through proxies. If you confront them directly, you will lose.”
“There must be something we can do,” Wizard Petronius said.
“There is,” Alexander said. “General Brand is coming with a regiment of soldiers to round you up and take you to the Sin’Rath. He’s been bitten, but I believe that his men are just following orders. When he arrives, you must subdue him and take him into custody so you can explain to the soldiers what’s really happening. Once they understand, send some of them back to the Gate encampment to spread the word. Enlist the aid of Queen Sofia and the captain of the city guard. Also, seek out women capable of fighting and employ them as personal guards for your wizards.”
Sovereign of the Seven Isles 7: Reishi Adept Page 2
