Sovereign of the Seven Isles 7: Reishi Adept

by David A. Wells

  Kelvin thought for several moments before responding.

  “Have you tried giving it everything you have?”

  “No,” Alexander said with a frown. “It feels like I’d die if I did.”

  “I can’t imagine the staff killing you,” Kelvin said. “Can you?”

  “Not really, but it feels like it might.”

  “When I created Luminessence, it felt as if I was being guided to enchant it as I did. Everything about it is life-affirming. Everything about it is associated with the light. My advice, Alexander, is to trust it. Give it what it wants.”

  Alexander felt a little thrill of fear. Luminessence was powerful, but its power also carried a cost. He wondered just how expensive it might be to bring forth the kind of light he would need to banish Azugorath.

  “Jack, do you have something I can write with?” Alexander asked.

  Jack passed him a pad and a quill.

  Alexander wrote the word he’d seen atop the portal to Azugorath’s chambers under the black tower and pushed it over to Kelvin.

  Kelvin frowned. “I think it says ‘Open’ in ancient Reishi.”

  “It can’t be that simple,” Alexander said, going on to explain the source of the word.

  “Ancient Reishi was restricted to wizards,” Kelvin said. “Maybe whoever built the black tower simply wanted to secure the lower levels from nonwizards.”

  “It’s going to be a bad day if we get all the way to that door and can’t open it,” Alexander said.

  Kelvin shrugged helplessly. “I wish I could tell you more, but without the opportunity to examine the portal, I’m at a loss.”

  Alexander nodded. “Let’s have a look at that chest Lucky sent me.”

  “Certainly, it’s in the wagons.”

  “Mistress Constance,” Lita said, “I have sad news.”

  Constance remained with Lita as Kelvin led Alexander to a very heavily guarded set of wagons parked nearby. Most were armored and locked. Several of Kelvin’s acolyte wizards were standing guard along with a platoon of Perry’s men.

  Kelvin found the wagon he was looking for, dispelled a ward he’d placed upon it and unlocked a set of heavy and very complex-looking locks. He pulled out a large trunk. Alexander opened his Wizard’s Den and Kelvin carried the chest inside, depositing it on Alexander’s desk and handing him a simple gold key.

  The lock clicked open without resistance and the lid lifted silently. Packed within were several small boxes, including the one containing the black slime. Other well-cushioned boxes were tightly packed around it. Healing potions filled the first box and most of the second. Three potions of liquid fire, two of featherlite, two of warding, and a gaseousness potion filled the rest of the second. The final case contained potions of strength, silence, levitation, and speed. An unlabeled vial glowed with the light and magic of Wizard’s Dust.

  Alexander was astounded at the trove of magical treasure that lay before him. He’d sent Lucky to Glen Morillian for this very purpose, but now that he was faced with the fruits of that decision, he couldn’t help but smile at the outcome, a wave of guilt overtaking him a moment later when he remembered that Anatoly was dead.

  “What’s this one?” he asked, pointing at the unlabeled potion, shoving his emotions aside yet again.

  “That one is an experiment,” Kelvin said. “Lucky was able to replicate the effects of my explosive weapons in liquid form. He’s only tested it on a small scale though, so this is unreliable at best and dangerous at worst.”

  “How do I activate it?”

  “Expose the liquid to air,” Kelvin said. “The vial is designed to act as a kind of timer. If it’s set on its top, the liquid will eat through the stopper after about an hour and drain out, then detonate.”

  “How powerful is it?”

  “Possibly very powerful—this small vial might equal one of my large explosive weapons—or it might fail entirely. In small-scale tests it was very promising but this is all that Lucky was able to make in the time he had, so he wasn’t able to do more testing.”

  “In that case, I’m going to need one of your explosive weapons.”

  “As you wish,” Kelvin said, leading Alexander to another wagon containing two casks that looked like whisky barrels. Alexander took the detonation stone offered by Kelvin, safe in its metal vial, while the Guild Mage carried the weapon into the Wizard’s Den and carefully placed it next to Alexander’s strongbox.

  “I also have something for Lady Anja,” Kelvin said, producing a small case containing three potions and handing it to Alexander.

  “What is it?” Anja said, her face lighting up with anticipation as she hurried closer to see.

  Alexander opened the case, revealing three unmarked glass vials.

  Anja frowned.

  “Lucky created three concentrated potions of shapeshift with sufficient strength to transform a dragon,” Kelvin said.

  “You mean I can change into my true form and then change back?”

  “Precisely,” Kelvin said.

  Anja hugged him, squeezing the wind out of him and lifting him three inches off the ground in her excitement.

  “I like your friend Lucky and I haven’t even met him yet,” she said.

  “I’m pretty sure he’s going to like you too.”

  “Finally,” Kelvin said, handing Alexander a metal case that looked more like a scroll case than a potion vial, “Lucky made a healing draught tailored for a dragon, as requested.”

  “Excellent. I’m sure Tasia will appreciate his efforts.”

  Erik and Duane came trotting up on horseback.

  “You two look tired,” Alexander said.

  “I was just thinking the same about you,” Erik said with a little grin.

  Alexander nodded, checking the position of the sun in the sky. “Gather your commanders. I need to talk to them.”

  “We can have them ready in half an hour,” Erik said.

  “That’ll do,” Alexander said, turning back to Kelvin. “I’d like your wizards to attend as well.”

  “Wouldn’t miss it,” Kelvin said.

  “Why don’t we find something to eat in the meantime.”

  With the army camped around the Reishi Keep, kitchen wagons were set up at regular intervals and they always had a pot of something ready to serve.

  After a hasty meal of ox stew, they made their way to the officers awaiting Alexander. He stepped up on a wagon, surveying the crowd.

  “Alexander,” Kelvin said, holding up a ring. “It’ll help them hear you.”

  Alexander nodded his thanks, slipping the gold band on his finger.

  “Phane and Zuhl are coming. Both want the Nether Gate—neither can be allowed to have it. My hope is that they’ll fight each other until one is defeated and the other is weakened enough that we can destroy them and their armies. But … I can’t rely on that strategy alone. Not when so much hangs in the balance.

  “I have another avenue of attack available to me, one that may well end this war, but it means that I’ll have to leave you to fight this battle without me.”

  The officers began murmuring amongst themselves. Alexander let them talk for a few seconds before calling for their attention again.

  “I understand your concern. After all, this will likely be one of the decisive battles in this war, and I won’t be here to lead you, at least not in person. Trust that you’re in capable hands. Erik and Duane are both seasoned Ranger commanders and General Brand is an experienced officer.

  “Tomorrow you’ll move to staging areas closer to the Nether Gate. Once there, you’ll dig in and wait. Zuhl is already in control of what’s left of the mountain fortress where the Gate is hidden. I expect Phane to arrive in about a week.”

  In reality, Alexander’s great hope was that Phane would be dead within a week, leaving his army leaderless, and more importantly, leaving the keystones locked inside his Wizard’s Den forever, but he didn’t dare say that out loud. He could never be certain if the Reishi Pri
nce was watching.

  “I have every confidence in you and your men. You’ve all served the Old Law well, you’ve struggled for it, bled for it. This may be the last major battle we’ll have to fight, but only if we win.”

  Alexander looked out over the men, hundreds of officers all neatly lined up in formation. Every one of them had heard the call of their conscience, every one of them had chosen to place their lives in harm’s way to defend life and liberty. Every one of them was a hero of the light.

  Alexander stood straight and saluted, fist to heart.

  There was a pause, stillness filling the air, and then the men erupted in a cheer, a deafening wave of emotion-laden sound washed over him, almost pushing him backward, it seemed to have such substance. He climbed down from the wagon, weary from his exertions earlier in the day.

  “I hope I’m not making a mistake,” he muttered, looking out over the sea of newly erected tents, all lined up in neat rows, handing Kelvin his ring.

  Jataan shrugged. “You can lead this battle from anywhere.”

  “You might even do more good from a distance with your magic than with your sword,” Jack said.

  Alexander snorted. “Tell Anatoly that.”

  Chapter 34

  The horizon was just beginning to show signs of the coming dawn. He took one last look at his assembled soldiers and wizards before placing his hand on the Gate. A moment passed before the flat black stone wall transformed into a passage to the Isle of Karth.

  Alexander stepped off the side of the Gate platform a second later, just moments before a hail of arrows rained down through the Gate, clattering harmlessly on the platform. He opened his Wizard’s Den and went to his circle, projecting an illusion of himself to Karth and delivering the attack order to Wyatt before returning to his body.

  Karth’s Gate was surrounded by a stout stone wall lined with well-armed soldiers. Any attack through the Gate would put Alexander’s men in a deadly crossfire from above, so he had coordinated his attack with Wyatt and a company of soldiers loyal to the House of Karth. A moment’s distraction was all he needed.

  Sending his sight through to watch the attack, Alexander waited for the soldiers lining the wall around the Gate to turn their attention to the attack coming from Wyatt. He didn’t have to wait long. When the atlatl-thrown hail of javelins rained down on the Regency soldiers, they seemed to all but forget that the Gate was open as they turned their attention to the enemy that they’d been at war with for most of the past two thousand years.

  “Now!” Alexander shouted, raising Luminessence and flooding the world with his light as he stepped through the Gate. The few enemy soldiers still paying attention turned away from the blinding display of brilliance. Kelvin and his wizards followed Alexander through.

  He focused on maintaining his light, keeping the enemy blinded while the wizards, protected by their shield spells, spread out on the Gate platform and began casting force-shards at any enemy soldier foolish enough to present a target. Within seconds, the hundred soldiers manning the wall were either fighting Wyatt or hiding from the wizards’ magic.

  Alexander nodded to Kelvin.

  The Guild Mage strode forward purposefully, ignoring the enemy, his war hammer over his shoulder. He stopped a few dozen feet from the wall and raised his hammer, pausing for a moment before bringing it down against the ground with all of the force he could muster. It struck hard, noise like a thunderclap filling the enclosed space. A fissure opened in the ground, splitting the earth itself, opening a chasm ten feet wide that raced straight toward the wall, cracking the foundation and sending a web of thin fractures up the stone face.

  Kelvin took three steps to the side and turned to face a section of the wall several dozen feet from his first attack and struck again. Again, the wall began to rupture, cracks undermining its structural soundness. He struck again, this time opening another chasm between the first two. The ground shuddered. A section of wall began to crumble, blocks of stone falling to the ground and into the three fissures that Kelvin had rent in the world.

  The soldiers still atop what remained of the wall, caught between enemy forces attacking from within and from without, tried to flee, a few of them jumping to the ground with ruinous results.

  Slowly at first, then all in a rush, the wall came down, filling the fissures with rubble and leaving a mound of debris and a cloud of dust where once a wall had stood.

  Alexander looked back through the Gate and nodded to Duane. A hundred Rangers stormed through, racing for the pile of rubble, clambering over and fanning out to engage the fleeing enemy.

  The suddenness and ferocity of the attack had broken the Regency soldiers’ spirit. Those that could, fled in a panic.

  Alexander dropped his light and motioned to Ratagan and Horst. Both Sky Knights had to duck, hugging their steeds to fit through the Gate. Once through, they took to the air, hunting the remaining soldiers down in the open grasslands surrounding the Gate.

  Within twenty minutes, all of Alexander’s forces were reporting success. The enemy was dead to the last man and Alexander hadn’t lost a single soul.

  “Not bad,” Jack said.

  “Overwhelming force and surprise against an inferior enemy,” Alexander said. “They never stood a chance.”

  ***

  Ratagan’s wyvern coasted on the morning air high over the central plains of Karth, following Horst’s lead. Wyatt was riding with Horst and Alexander was with Ratagan while the rest of his friends were inside his Wizard’s Den. Wyatt’s men had remained at the Gate to dismantle the wall. Kelvin and his wizards along with Duane and his Rangers had returned to the Reishi Isle.

  Horst began to descend toward a large mass of troops marching south. The lush southern jungle of Karth was just visible on the horizon. Alexander sent his sight south, moving quickly over the verdant rainforest to the Regency fortress city. As expected, the walls were manned and heavily armed.

  The enemy knew Alexander was coming—not that it would help them. He was nearly certain about the outcome of the next battle. It was the one after that that had him concerned.

  Returning to himself, he estimated that the fortress was a day and a half’s march away. Dawn two days hence he would bring the fight into Phane’s adopted home. He intended to leave little for the prince to return to—if he survived Isabel and her Maker’s light.

  During the flight from the Gate to Karth’s army, Alexander had struggled to pull his mind away from thoughts of Anatoly. He felt guilty every time he wrested his focus away from his grief, but he knew it was necessary. His sadness was still too raw. When he caught himself indulging those feelings, it felt like he was standing on the edge of a great abyss that threatened to swallow him whole.

  Then there was the anger. Alexander had always had a good measure of control over his anger. He got mad like anyone else, but since his childhood, he always remembered his father’s admonition to be ruled by reason. When he got angry, he almost naturally detached from his emotions and tried to choose his course of action based on clear thinking and objective fact. This anger was different. Like the despair and sadness, it felt altogether bigger than him, big enough to consume him if he let it.

  When the anger he felt toward those who’d killed Anatoly seeped into his psyche, he found himself imagining the death of the sixty-odd legions still encamped at the Fellenden Gate. He had the means to slaughter them. He could kill them all tonight. The rage boiling in the pit of his stomach cried out for vengeance with a bloodlust and disregard for the gentle guidance of his conscience that frightened him. Instinctively, he knew that he was standing on a moral precipice. Rage and hatred were calling on him to ignore his conscience and his humanity in favor of wanton slaughter.

  Even more than the despair, he feared the anger. It had such power. He knew that if he let the fury build to its crescendo, it would overshadow all other considerations and it would justify anything in the name of vengeance. In that place of unreason, driven by righteous fury, he could e
asily become the very thing he was fighting against.

  Once again it struck him that the most evil thing that those without conscience did to the world was to push good people into doing evil things, whether to save themselves from aggression or to avenge the wrongs done to them and their loved ones. Alexander pulled himself back from the emotional turmoil swirling within and retreated into the place of the witness—dispassionate, detached, safe.

  Ratagan was descending toward the van of the marching army, the roar of his wyvern drawing all eyes, stalling the entire formation midstride as every soldier stopped to look in wonder at the wyverns gliding gracefully on the wind.

  They lighted a hundred feet ahead of the column, folding their wings and crouching so Alexander and Wyatt could dismount.

  “If you won’t be needing us anytime soon, our wyverns need to eat,” Ratagan said.

  “Good hunting,” Alexander said.

  The Sky Knights lifted off before the advance party from the army reached them. Alexander opened his Wizard’s Den and his friends filed out. Anja, Jataan, Jack, Lita, Ayela, and Chloe were standing with him when the twelve horses stopped, led by Severine Karth.

  Ayela went to her father and gave him a hug the moment his feet hit the ground.

  “It’s good to see you, Father.”

  “You as well, Child. I came as quickly as I could. I met General Janos and the regiment he was leading north. He and his men have returned to the army and understand their orders quite well now.”

  She smiled. “Father, I’d like you to meet Lord Reishi.”

  Alexander stepped forward, extending his hand.

  Severine took it firmly with a smile. “It’s good to meet you in person, Lord Reishi.”

  “You as well, Lord Severine.”

  “My daughter tells me that you’ve assigned Wyatt here to command my army. She also tells me that he’s asked for her hand in marriage. I understand that you have a unique insight into a person’s true nature. So I ask you as a father, what do you see when you look into him?”

  “I see a friend,” Alexander said. “I see a man that I trust with my life without doubt or hesitation.”