"What are you going to do?" He looked around nervously as loud laughter and jeers sounded from the direction of the palace gates, as if the guards were getting rowdy.
"Wait. Stay still." She raised the Dragon Claw high. In the moonlight, it gleamed bright. Aria stared at it and concentrated with all her might, as she willed the Dragon Claw to do her biding.
In moments, she was back in the citadel, standing beside Bikkar.
"You did it!" he said proudly.
"Yes, I did. Marcus is back, and the spell of the Black Orb has been broken." She studied the magical weapon that had made all she had done possible. "Now I want to go home."
"What's stopping you?"
"What should I do with this?"
"Well, you could rule the world with it. Isn't that what you wanted? Power, fame, glory...and riches, more than you've ever imagined. You only have to ask, and it will all be yours." He grinned.
Aria returned his smile. "You are a cunning man, aren't you? If you believed I wanted all of that, why didn't you tell me while we were coming here that I could use the Dragon Claw to become the next Queen of Azmeer?"
"There was no need to motivate you with promises of gold and fame. I knew you wanted your brother back more than you wanted the crown or the wealth. I had faith in you."
"Is that why the Tsarina of Dryads didn't want me to get my hands on the Dragon Claw? Was she afraid that I might misuse its power to gain control of the kingdom?"
Bikkar's shrug acknowledged the possibility. "She did have doubts that you might be tempted by this weapon. It was always a possibility that Azmeer may lose one tyrant queen, only to acquire another. She thought it was possible that you may be unable to resist the lure of the throne. Power can be rather intoxicating, can it not?"
"Yes." Aria felt no shame in admitting. "I did want it. I wanted to be the next Queen. But then there was Marcus..."
"Ah!"
"If I had taken all that power, I would've lost my brother. He's a simple man. If I'd become the queen, he would have left me. I'm happy being who I always was."
"A thief?"
"Better a thief than a queen hated by all. What will happen to her?" Aria asked, feeling a tiny pang of sympathy for the woman who had lost everything important to her.
"She'll get what's due to her." Bikkar sighed as if he knew the end the Queen would meet.
"Who will rule the kingdom now?"
"There are still some good men in the palace. It's possible that a council of wise men may emerge to take control," he said, as if musing over the possibilities. "Anyway, it's getting late. I should be going, and you need to go back, too. One more thing I suppose I should tell you. Your brother is no longer who he used to be. The magic he lost as a child is back."
"Oh!" Aria recalled the difference she had felt in Marcus. Was he more or less than the man he used to be? "What about the Dragon Claw?"
"Put it back."
"How will I go back if I don't have it in my hands?"
"You will return to your brother as soon as you let it go. But remember one thing." He shook his finger at her. "The Golden Key is yours. Keep it safe. It's your legacy now."
"What about you?"
“Oh, I'm dead," he stated in a matter-of-fact tone. "But don't worry. Death is not the end..." so saying, he faded slightly, and then he was gone.
"Why do I get the feeling that this is not the last of you I'll ever see?" Aria said, with a grin.
With steady hands, she placed the Dragon Claw back in its place. The world spun around her. She felt a sudden pull, and then she was back in Azmeer with Marcus, standing in the pale moonlight.
"What happened?" he said. "One moment you were here, and next you weren't. And then you were back again." He touched her hand as if to assure himself that she really was there, and not just a figment of his imagination.
Aria hugged him. "It's good to have you back, brother." She looked into his eyes, seeing wisdom in them more than she'd ever seen before. "Let's go steal some horses."
Marcus grimaced. "Don't you think it's time we left all that behind?"
Aria shook her head. "I had the feeling you might say something like that. Well, it was good while it lasted, wasn't it?" She jingled the purse full of gold coins Bikkar had left with her. It contained enough to buy two horses, and still there would gold left over for them to start some new work.
"It was good...and you were the best."
Happily, arm in arm, the two of them set off for the nearest stable, and the new life that lay ahead of them.
---The End---
Thank you for buying my book. If you enjoyed reading The Black Orb, please leave a review on Smashwords, or any other online site of your choice so that I can reach new readers.
About the Author
Sabine A. Reed is a fantasy author. The eldest among three children, she always had a book in her hand. To this date, she loves to read. When she is not shuttling her kids to and fro from their various activities, she is penning her new fantasy novel. Currently she is busy working on the third book in The Power of Three Trilogy. She can often be found at Goodreads and her website. She can also be found on twitter: SabineAReed. And on her facebook page: SabineAReed.
Her other books include:
The Demon Mages, Book 1 in The Power of Three trilogy
The Warrior Mage, Book 2 in The Power of Three trilogy
Serpentine Love, a fantasy, paranormal romance novella
Chapter 1 – The Demon Mages
It was a good day for a mages’ war; hot and clear. There was not a single cloud in the dove-grey sky.
In the moss-covered glade, bright balls of red-blue flames spun in the air, jets of water sprayed over the ground, and gusts of wind twirled and looped, sweeping over everything in sight. Plants burst forth from the heaving earth, waving their thorny tentacles. Spelled bombs exploded, filling the glade with thick, black smoke. Arrows conjured out of thin air zoomed past, seeking fleshy targets.
Mages leapt, dived, blocked, and parried to avoid getting hit.
Zo stood at the top of a gently sloping hillock, and watched the chaotic activity taking place on the flat ground below. Next to her stood Mir, her second in command. He was a water mage, and had been training the young ones with her for the past two years.
He pointed at a mage. “Izzy has learnt the spells, but somehow she fails to implement them to her full capacity.”
“She hesitates because she is afraid to inflict harm,” said Zo.
Mir folded his arms across his chest. “In a real battle that could get her killed.”
“She is compassionate and considerate. It’s not a fatal flaw.” She sighed. “But you are right. She will have to toughen up.”
They continued to discuss the rest of the trainees even as Zo’s measured glance took into account each spell, block, and counter the mages used in the attempt to maim each other.
Suddenly, she cocked an eyebrow. Raising her arms, she muttered an enchantment. A single thunderbolt burst forth from the cloudless sky and speared the earth. Ash, mud, and smoke flew in the air, and a crater the size of a wagon wheel appeared where a reed-like plant was mere moments before. All the activity on the training ground halted as the young mages stared at the smoking crater.
It didn’t take them long to realize that one of them had made an elementary mistake.
“Illias!” Zo strode down the slope, her short, black cloak flowing behind her as a stray gust of wind caught its edges. “How many times do I’ve to remind you to reinforce your protection shield? If I hadn’t burned that plant down, it would’ve taken your head off instead of a chunk from your arm.” She yelled at the mage who was kneeling, clutching his wounded arm.
The group of mages surrounding Illias parted to make way as she marched past to stand beside the wounded trainee. Illias groaned, blood seeping from the fist-sized hole in his upper arm. His skin was the color of a freshly bleached sheet, and he looked ready to faint. Zo snapped her fingers at the trio of
healers who were standing under the shade of a tree. At her command, they came running.
One of the healers pressed a poultice on his wound and another muttered an incantation, waving her hands. Illias groaned again as flesh and muscle began to knit together in response to the quick healing spells. The healer removed the poultice. The wound was healed and the blood on his tattered sleeve remained as the only evidence of his recent injury. After bowing to Zo, the trio moved off the field.
“Reinforce your shield,” Zo ordered, watching as Illias moved his arm to test its strength. “As a punishment for this carelessness you will be on latrine duty tomorrow. I’ll inspect them personally in the evening. If the same mistake happens ever again, you’ll be cleaning them for a whole week.”
“Yes, princess.” Illias bowed his head.
Zo turned her attention towards the mage who had conjured the forbidden plant. “I don’t want to see the use of flesh-eating plants in training sessions,” she rebuked. “This is not a war, and you are not aiming to kill.”
Dia’s face flushed with embarrassment. Earth mages carried the seeds of various plants in pouches they wore around a belt. By scattering the seeds, they could instantly make a plant grow. Similarly a water mage could use the slight bit of moisture found in air to make a fountain, an air mage could use a breeze to make a tornado, and a fire mage could use sunlight to conjure fire. Each mage had the talent to manipulate a particular element, and each mage honed this skill by learning the spells that could better make use of this magic.
Zo glanced at the sweat-drenched faces gathered around her. There were more than thirty novice mages working to sharpen their battle skills under her tutelage. The kingdom of Iram had not seen a battle for more than seventy years, and was unlikely to ever experience one. Still, someone had to teach the young ones, and she had been assigned this duty by her brother, the king.
Far be it from me to be derelict in my duties. She motioned them back to their positions. “Get to work,” she shouted. “Put up your protective shields.”
Mir was still at the top of the hillock. She joined him and they watched the battle resume.
“Dia has an uncanny ability to judge her opponent’s weakness. She doesn’t hesitate to unleash her own spells,” Mir commented.
“Talent needs to be tempered with control. Excessive force is just as bad as too little force.”
Zo narrowed her eyes. “I want you to pair Izzy and Dia together for the next few weeks. Let’s see if they can help each other find a balance.”
Mir nodded. “That’s a good idea, princess. I will do so.”
They both continued to oversee the fight. For this session, the mages were divided into two opposing teams. One group wore red tunics, the other green. Satisfied, she watched as they tried to hurt each other. Apart from making sure they put into practice all the spells they had learnt in their morning classes, it was her job to ensure that none of them died during training. Hence, the healers remained nearby during each brutal training session.
Without any reprieve Zo allowed the battle to continue until the mid-afternoon light faded into the warm reddish glow of dusk. Finally, she dismissed the class and watched as they all limped off the field while Mir followed them. The healers went too.
Raising her arms, she stretched her body. It had been a satisfying practice session. Barring Illias, none of them were seriously injured, and that was something to celebrate indeed. Trainee mages sometimes didn’t understand the extent of their own power. Last week one mage fainted after being hit with a particularly vicious spell and had to be carried off the field. It took him three days to recover fully.
As the novices disappeared behind the line of tree that surrounded the glade, Zo sighed with relief. Finally, the day was near to an end. To the west, the sky was a bright coalescence of crimson, yellow, and orange streaks. She wasn’t able to see the wooden buildings of the training camp as the trees hid her view, but she could almost smell the aroma of roasting meat that would soon be served in the kitchen hall.
It was time to rustle up a good supper and retire to her cabin for the night. She ran a hand through her short hair, and then patted it down, smothering it into place. As she walked down the hillock, a faint cry reached her ears. Looking up, she saw a speck high in the sky. It was an eagle. The handsome bird flew in big circles, and then smaller ones as it prepared to land. From the distinct gold and red coloring of its feathers, she knew it was a royal eagle, bred to convey messages. Someone from the castle must have sent it.
Communication from the castle through such urgent means was rare. Who was the recipient of the message?
With a frown, she watched as the bird locked on to its target and landed in front of her. Tied to its left leg was a tiny, tightly wrapped scroll. The eagle pecked at the ground, eager to be off again. Bending, Zo untied the scroll. She straightened and watched the great bird take off. Zo unrolled the scroll, the slight tremor in her hands betraying her fear-soaked emotions. The last time she’d received such a scroll was when she was eight years old, and her mother had died after falling down the castle stairs. Zo and her siblings were out on a royal hunt with their father when they all learnt the tragic news. Despite the passage of so much time, the memory of that sad incident was still fresh in her mind.
Shaking off the bad memories, she looked at the script. It was her sister Alicia’s handwriting. Two lines completed the message. “Come quick! The king requires your immediate presence.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, Zo ran down the hillock. The scroll still clutched in her hands, she sprinted towards the stable. “Get me my horse, quick,” she ordered the baffled stable hand who met her at the gate. To another, she yelled. Get me some food, and a water bag. And tell Ishtian and Mir that I've left for the castle."
Within moments, her gelding was presented, saddled for the journey. After a quick tug at the saddle straps to ensure they were properly secured, Zo mounted. The stable boy tied on a bundle of food and a water bag to the saddle, and she was off. Leaving behind the camp of tents and thatched huts that housed the trainees and the trainers, she urged the mount to move onwards towards the dusty road that led out into the plain. The castle was only three leagues away but it would be nearly midnight before she reached, even if she pushed her horse to its limit.
What could have caused her siblings to summon her with such urgency? The fact that Alicia hadn’t used a spell to communicate meant she didn’t want any curious mage to intercept the message.
What had happened in the castle? She had left barely a week ago, and everything was fine at that time.
With a light hand, she urged her mount to go faster. The gelding responded to her touch with a practiced ease, thundering its way on the unpaved road, leaving clouds of dirt swirling behind them. Biting on her lower lip, Zo barely noticed the taverns she passed, or the fires around which huddled weary travelers. During the day, this was a busy road. It led to the training camp, and went on beyond to one of the biggest beach towns on the island.
Bending slightly, she pushed her right hand through the bundle that swung on the saddle and pulled out an apple. She munched on it, and threw the core away. It was enough to sustain her for now. Later, she would get a late meal from the castle kitchen. Thank the Goddess, her horse was well-fed. It would cover the distance quickly.
As if sensing her urgency, the gelding maintained the break-neck pace for two leagues. Mountains loomed ahead and Zo slowed the animal as she sighted the lights from the castle. Here the road was treacherous. It snaked its way through rough boulders, and wound upwards. The castle was situated half-way up a mountain and she could see the brightly-lit lanterns that hung on the walls even from this distance. Carefully, she guided her horse on the winding pathway that led to the castle gate.
At this time of the night, it was barred shut. Her way was blocked by four guardsmen. “Who goes there?” one of them said.
“Open. It’s I, princess Zo,” she commanded, without dismounting from the
horse.
The guards moved out of her way, yelling for the man inside to open the heavy gate. With a slight creaking noise, the doors shuddered apart. Once inside, Zo jumped off. She passed the reins of her exhausted horse to a guard. “Take him to the stable, and see that he is taken care of.”
She ran inside, throwing open doors as she headed for her sister’s room. Even though her brother Seve wouldn’t mind being interrupted at this late hour, Zo wanted to talk to her sister first. Seve was king, and it was best to maintain a semblance of protocol, even if only for appearances.
Her heart pounded in her chest. Was Alicia all right? What was the reason for such alarm?
She hoped it wasn’t one of her brother’s cruel pranks. Seve was notorious for his practical jokes, and his sisters were his most frequent victims. However, Zo was sure Alicia would not have collaborated with him on any scheme against her.
To her distress, Alicia was not in her room. A maid sat on the stool in one corner, nodding sleepily. Seeing Zo, she stood. “Your highness, princess Alicia said to tell you to come to the king’s chamber.”
Without a word, Zo pivoted and ran towards her brother’s room. What was Alicia doing in the king’s chamber at this time of the night? Was Seve all right? Worry gnawed in the pit of her stomach. Seven years older than Zo, Seve was crowned king only a year ago, after the death of their father. At times he sought his sisters’ advice – but never at such a late hour.
Was there an emergency he couldn’t deal with?
The island of Iram was a peaceful kingdom. Sometimes during the monsoon season, squalls and cyclones burst through the land, wrecking havoc on crops and villages. But this was the month of Arcson, and the weather was perfect, with clear, sun-lit skies. Surely no natural calamity could have wrecked destruction on any part of the tiny kingdom without her hearing about it at the camp.
The Black Orb Page 14
