by James Wisher
Chapter 45
Connor sat on his black chair, Mikhail at his shoulder, and stared at David and whoever the girl was that he’d brought with him. He must have misheard. Connor fingered the amulet around his neck. Over the years it had become a sort of worry stone for him. Whenever he needed to calm down he touched it. “Let me see if I understand. You lost the urns after failing to claim the dragon’s soul force then fled rather than fight a whelp of a boy to reclaim them. Did I miss anything?”
“No.” David’s voice trembled. “Connor, please give us another chance to recover the urns. We were both badly depleted after the fight with the Leviathan and that boy has one of the strongest soul forces I’ve ever sensed.”
Connor leaned forward, prompting the two sorcerers to step back. “Stronger than me?”
David hesitated, probably debating whether to lie to him or not. “Stronger than you were before you became a warlock, yes.”
Connor tapped his chin. If the boy was as strong as David claimed getting the urns back wouldn’t be a simple task. Nevertheless it needed to be done. “Do you know where the urns are now?”
“I assume they’ve arrived in Valcane by now. Beyond that I have no idea.”
“Sir, my sister. She’s with the boy.”
Connor waved a hand and a gag of black flame appeared over her mouth. “The archmage can’t keep them in the city for long. There’s no safe place there to store demonic artifacts. She’ll have to transport them either to the capital or The Tower. My gold is on The Tower, but we can’t risk missing them. Mikhail, you will watch the road to The Tower. David, you and your girlfriend can watch the road to the capital. Whichever of you finds the artifacts contact the others and attack together. I want those urns back.”
“Yes, Connor. I won’t fail again.” David grabbed the girl and hustled her out of the library.
Connor shook his head. Competent help was so hard to find.
“Let me attack the city, Master. I’ll kill anyone that stands in my way and bring the artifacts back.”
Connor sighed and patted his servant on his armored wrist. “I appreciate the offer, Mikhail, but I have allies in Valcane and we’ve done quite enough damage to their city for the time being. Not to mention even you couldn’t handle a dozen sorcerers at once.”
“As you say, Master. I’ll need a new mount.”
“Have David transport you to a farm and take what you need. Just make certain you’re not seen.”
“Of course, Master.”
“And Mikhail, don’t fail me again.”
Chapter 46
The explosion woke Damien from a deep sleep. He groaned and rolled over on his cot. Admiral McAllen had been kind enough to offer Damien a bunk for the duration of his stay. A faint glimmer of sunlight filtered through the barrack’s windows.
She was getting an early start again today. For the past two days his master had spent from sunup to sundown on a small island half a mile out in the bay with Master Shen and Sasha blasting those urns with everything they could muster. Damien had offered to help yesterday. His soul force had fully recovered though his thoughts still swirled after going almost two days without sleep. The archmage had ordered him to rest. He’d shrugged and complied. If she wanted to blow off some steam blasting a pile of rocks and bird shit into gravel it was none of his business.
Unfortunately blowing off steam was all she was accomplishing. Those urns shrugged off everything the three sorcerers threw at them. When they’d returned last night, stooped over, soul force drained to almost nothing, Damien had caught a glimpse of the targets of their wrath. The black enamel hadn’t suffered so much as a scratch. He didn’t think blasting them would work, but one look at his master’s flat expression had convinced him of the wisdom of silence.
Damien dressed, picked up a sausage and biscuit sandwich at the mess hall, and headed outside. The brisk ocean breeze finished the job of waking him. He sighed. When they finally returned to the capital he’d miss the ocean breeze the most. Movement up on the fort wall caught his eye.
Salem was staring out over the ocean, her hair blowing. Poor girl. Not only had her sister abandoned her, she’d had to spend two hours alone with the archmage getting questioned. She hadn’t complained, not that it would have done any good. When the interview was over his master was satisfied that Salem didn’t pose a threat to the kingdom. As far as Damien knew she hadn’t spoken to Salem since.
Damien flew up on the wall and landed beside her. “Morning. Did you have breakfast yet?”
She looked at him sideways through a veil of hair. “I wasn’t hungry.”
An explosion lit up the sky out by the island. Damien tore his sandwich in half. “Here. You should know I don’t share with just anyone.”
Salem smiled, accepted the biscuit, and took a bite. Another explosion echoed across the water. Further down on the docks a small crowd had gathered to watch the show.
“She’s certainly determined,” Salem said.
“I think stubborn is the word you’re looking for. I’m pretty sure it’s in the job description.”
She laughed softly, her heart not really in it. “You like her, your master?”
Damien swallowed the last of his sandwich and nodded. “She can be hard when necessary, but she has a kindness about her as well. I think we’re well matched. I hope she feels the same. At the very least she hasn’t complained about my efforts so far.”
“Our master wasn’t a kind man. He pushed us hard and punished the smallest failure. Maishi took the brunt of it, protecting me the best she could. I miss her so much.”
Damien put his arm around her. “I’m sorry.”
At noon the explosions stopped and the weary sorcerers flew back to the fort. Master Shen’s face was drawn and pale. Even his master and the high sorcerer looked done in. Damien met them in the courtyard with a pitcher of wine and glasses. Beside him Salem carried a platter of fried dumplings she swore were favorites in her village. She’d offered the first real smile since her sister flew off with David while they were cooking together.
Damien poured everyone a drink and Salem passed out the snacks. When everyone had drunk and eaten the archmage said, “We’re done. I can’t think of anything else to hit those thrice-damned urns with and the island’s smashed down to the waterline.”
“Where will we take them?” Damien asked.
“One’s going to The Tower, one to the vault under the castle, and the third I’m going to sink to the bottom of the ocean.”
“I can fly that one out while you guys are resting if you want,” Damien said.
“Apprentice, you read my mind. We’ll head out with the other two at first light.”
Chapter 47
The sorcerers gathered once again in the yard surrounding the navy fort. The two remaining urns sat on the ground between them. Damien had sunk the third one twenty-five miles off the coast in about eight hundred feet of water. For good measure he’d buried it ten feet under the sea bed. If anyone was going to find that item they’d have to work for it.
“Sasha and Lon, you two will take an urn to The Tower. I’ve already told Thomas to expect you. He has the key to the vault. Damien and I will take the second urn to the royal castle. Send a message to my office there when the artifact is secure. Questions?” When no one spoke up the archmage clapped her hands. “Good luck.”
Lon formed a bubble around their urn, conjured a griffin, and took off. Sasha flew a little ahead of him on a blue dragon. Gaudy, but if they ran into trouble she could send it against any foe in an instant.
His master formed a bubble around their own urn. “Ready?”
Salem came running out of the fort waving her hands. “Wait for me.”
She skidded to a stop beside them. “I want to help.”
Damien glanced at his master who nodded. “Great, we’d appreciate it.”
The three of them flew east and a little north. The archmage rode her eagle while Damien stayed in the lead on his own and
Salem brought up the rear on a carpet of soul force. If they didn’t push it they’d make the capital an hour before sunset. That was a long time to be exposed, but since no one knew they were coming Damien wasn’t too worried.
Noon came and went with no sign of problems. Below them The Great Green spread out for miles in every direction. The nearest civilization lay fifty miles north. At times like this Damien was reminded of just how big the kingdom was and how few people really lived here. There was so much emptiness.
“Stop!” Salem said.
Damien and his master pulled up short.
“What is it?” the archmage asked.
“My sister, she’s close. I’ve always been sensitive to her soul force.”
Damien tapped his core and power crackled around his hands, ready to be shaped. “Is she alone?”
Salem shook her head. “I can’t tell.”
A golden speck rose out of the forest below and flew towards them. It moved closer and he recognized Maishi. There was no sign of David, but he had to be around here somewhere.
Salem flew over to her sister, tears in her eyes. They embraced and Salem said, “Are you okay? I’ve been so worried.”
“I’m fine.” Maishi glared at Damien and the archmage. “You’re the one that’s been a prisoner of the enemy.”
“Oh, no, everyone’s been nice. They’re nothing like David said. People here aren’t afraid of sorcerers like they are back home. We can have a normal life, with friends and everything.”
“They tricked you, Salem.” Maishi grabbed her sister by the shoulders and shook her. “We only have one friend in the kingdom and that’s David.”
Damien sensed him and lashed out with a blast of soul force. David’s invisibility screen crumbled and he tumbled through the sky away from the urn.
“Damn you, boy!” David screamed when he’d stabilized his flight.
David hurled twin blasts of soul force. They had no real power behind them and Damien slapped them aside.
“Tell us where Connor is and we can protect you,” the archmage said.
“Ha! Connor has people everywhere. You can’t protect me, you can barely protect yourselves. Maishi!”
A squeak from behind him drew Damien’s attention. Maishi had her arm around Salem’s throat. Salem fought, but Damien recognized at once that Maishi was the stronger sister.
“Give us the urn. Don’t make me hurt my sister.”
“Maishi, please—” Salem’s plea was cut off by a squeeze from her sister.
“We’re not giving you the urn.” Damien shook his head. “I’m sorry, Salem.”
A golden lance shattered Maishi’s shield and pierced her skull. Her power vanished and she tumbled to the ground, her wailing sister on her heels.
Damien turned on David, his power blazing. “When I’m finished with you, you’re going to wish Connor had killed you.”
“Take him alive.”
Damien looked at his master in disbelief. “Alive?”
“We need to find Connor and he’s the only one that can tell us where to look.”
Damien ground his teeth. “Yes, Master.”
David had flown a good half a mile north when Damien turned back. A beam of golden energy struck the fleeing sorcerer in the back and transformed into chains. Damien bound his prisoner from head to toe before reeling him in like a fat fish. David fought with everything he had, but his power was nothing compared to Damien’s.
When he finally floated, bound and drained, in front of Damien his head hung and he gasped for air. “Just kill me now. It’ll be a kindness compared to what Connor or worse, his black knight, is going to do to me.”
“Much as I’d like to oblige, that pleasure’s been denied me.” Damien punched him in the side of the head. No power protected his fist or enhanced his muscles. There was nothing but the simple satisfaction of knuckles on skin.
“I have to check on her, Master.”
The archmage nodded. “Quickly. We need to keep moving.”
Damien flew down and found Salem kneeling in a bed of pine needles beside her sister’s body. He crouched next to her. “I’m sorry. I feared she might hurt you.”
Salem sniffed and looked at him through red-rimmed eyes. “You were right. I felt the malice in her. Maishi would have killed me to get that urn. My own sister would have killed me. If I’d been stronger I could have fought her off. You wouldn’t have had to…” A sob cut Salem off mid-sentence and she wrapped her arms around him.
Damien rubbed her back and let her cry for a little while. He couldn’t take too long. His master was right about that.
After a minute he said, “We can’t stay here. Do you want to take her body to the city or bury it here?”
Salem wiped her eyes and looked around. “This is a pretty spot. I think Maishi would have liked it here.”
Damien conjured a rectangle of soul force and drove it into the ground. When it rose a perfect grave had been gouged out of the earth. Salem created a litter of soul force and slid her sister’s body into the grave. Damien covered it and found a three-foot boulder jutting out of the ground. A little brute-force shaping carved it into a headstone which he sunk into the ground at the head of the grave.
Salem knelt beside it and carved her sister’s name and the short epitaph: Beloved Sister. She put her hand on the stone for a second and stood up. “I’m ready. Thank you for this. My sister was your enemy and I know you didn’t have to show her even this much kindness.”
As they flew up to rejoin his master Damien said, “I didn’t do it for your sister. I did it for you. Friends look after each other.”
Chapter 48
Lon followed Sasha due east toward The Tower. He’d heard rumors about the vault, everyone had. A place where the high sorcerers kept dark artifacts too powerful to be destroyed alongside equally dangerous divine items that might be of use one day. He’d assumed the rumors were just that, Tower gossip spread from one year to the next. Nervous as he was to be transporting the urn Lon was looking forward to seeing the vault.
Lon flew through the clear blue sky, his every sense alert for potential trouble. He found it two hours out from port. A familiar, corrupt darkness he never wanted to experience again. Ahead of them a black speck floated in the sky.
“Run for The Tower!” Sasha raced to engage the darkness.
Lon swung out wide of the combat zone as fast as he could manage. Once he escaped, Sasha could disengage and flee. He’d seen the black knight’s power before and held no illusions about their combined ability to defeat him.
A stream of black flames brought Lon up short. He tried to dive under them, but the fire shifted to block him. So much for running. It appeared he’d have to fight after all. Lon spun his griffin toward Mikhail and raced to back up Sasha.
The blue dragon lunged toward Mikhail, jaws wide enough to swallow him and his mount whole. A single swing of the black sword followed by a burst of hellfire blasted Sasha’s construct to glittering shards. Lon clenched his jaw. She’d put a lot of her power into that dragon and Mikhail had destroyed it in seconds.
Sasha sent a dozen beams of golden soul force hammering into Mikhail. Some he deflected with his sword and others he let bounce off his armor. None of the blasts so much as made him flinch.
One of Mikhail’s arms had been replaced by a black-scaled demon limb ending in rending talons. Sasha attacked again and Lon added his own power to the effort with explosive orbs that detonated against Mikhail’s armored back with no more effect than Sasha’s beams.
Mikhail was a nightmare and Lon had no idea how to end him.
The black knight swept his sword through the air and a wave of hellfire hammered Sasha back. The attack left her body red and smoking. It looked like it was all she could do to stay in the air.
They couldn’t stop Mikhail and they couldn’t flee. Lon saw only one option that didn’t end with him and Sasha dead. The archmage wasn’t going to be happy.
Lon brought the urn up where Mik
hail could see it. “Is this what you’re looking for?”
“Give it to me and I’ll kill you quick.”
“Catch!” Lon hurled the urn away with so much force it looked like a comet.
“No!” Mikhail raced after the urn, his enemies temporarily forgotten.
Heaven’s mercy, that was close. Lon gathered up Sasha and flew toward The Tower at full speed. When the black knight caught up to the urn Lon wanted to have a thick stone wall between them.
Chapter 49
Damien and the others landed in the castle courtyard with two hours to spare before dark. Two patrolling Crimson Legionnaires had joined them as they descended. Damien didn’t know the two men, but they looked more like warriors than most sorcerers he’d met. They led David off to the dungeon where he’d be kept under constant observation by at least two sorcerers.
The archmage let her eagle vanish and strode towards the castle. Damien and Salem fell in behind her, but she waved them off. “I can take care of this. Why don’t you get our guest settled in and rest up. Once David breaks we’ll be moving against Connor. It’ll take a few days to gather our forces. Until then you’re free.”
Damien couldn’t have been more pleased. He was so tired, both mentally and physically, it took all his concentration to put two thoughts together. His master left them standing in the courtyard.
“She doesn’t trust me,” Salem said.
“If it’s any consolation I don’t know where the vault is either. Give her time. She’ll warm up to you. In the meantime let’s see if we can’t find you a room.” Damien’s stomach grumbled. “And something to eat as well.”
They found the kitchen in full roar. Servants ran around with trays heaped with food. A dozen chickens roasted on spits by the oven. His favorite honey rolls were cooling on a rack. Damien spotted the head cook and waved.
She scowled, her white hat cockeyed and flour over half her face. “No! Dinner will be served in an hour. I haven’t time to fix you anything.”
