by James Wisher
Delia ripped a silver pin that was a twin to the one Eleck wore from the inside of her robe and threw it at Jen. “Take it!”
She scrambled over to Eleck. “Master, are you okay?”
Eleck looked from his hands to the woman. “It didn’t even hurt. I feel nothing below my elbows.”
Jen gathered up the talismans and kicked the rings a safe distance from her prisoners. She’d let Damien deal with them when he finished with Mikhail.
“What happens now?” Leah asked.
Jen looked up. Damien was flying towards the cave mouth, Mikhail in hot pursuit. They both vanished into the mountain.
“Now we wait to see who comes back out. If it’s my brother we celebrate. If it’s Mikhail we run.”
Chapter 42
Damien raced through the cave mouth half a second ahead of a blast that shook the mountain. He’d been so busy dodging for his life Damien hadn’t had a chance to study his opponent’s remaining energy, but if the rate at which Mikhail was pouring hellfire at him was any indication, he wasn’t getting low. Maybe he had so much power because he wasn’t wasting any of it maintaining a mount. Damien had dared hope that without a horse Mikhail wouldn’t be able to fly. He’d been quickly reminded of the value of hopes.
A stream of fire seared his shield, but didn’t do any damage. Damien grimaced. He still had plenty of power, but he wanted to save it for one last attack. If his plan worked, maybe he could rid the world of the monster on his tail.
He darted around a corner ahead of a splash of flame. Not far now. He rounded another corner and the glow from the lava pools filled the air ahead of him. Finally.
Damien flashed past the pools and the unconscious druids. The guardians had sunk back into their dormant state and since he had on one of the talismans they didn’t rise up. He flew into the ritual chamber and spun to face Mikhail. The black knight stood a few steps from the path between the guardians. It looked like Mikhail had used around three quarters of his power.
Damien grinned. His opponent had no notion of how to hold back. Ordinarily that probably served him well, but against someone who had a passing understanding of tactics, it made Mikhail woefully easy to predict. Unfortunately for Damien, knowing what he was going to do didn’t make beating him much easier.
“You’re out of places to run, worm.” Mikhail said. Flames dripped from his blade to sizzle on the stone floor.
“Then why don’t you come get me, greengrocer?” Damien flew up toward the ceiling out of Mikhail’s view and said a little prayer that he wouldn’t just flood the whole chamber with hellfire.
The clank of iron boots on stone reached Damien’s ears followed by a roar. Spurts of hellfire flickered in the chamber opening. Damien flew down and out the cave mouth. Mikhail was flailing at the guardians, his sword cutting them to pieces and the lava guardians reforming just as fast.
Liquid stone engulfed Mikhail from the waist down and struggle as he might the black knight couldn’t free himself. Damien allowed himself a moment’s amusement.
“When I get free you’re dead, worm,” Mikhail roared. “No tricks will save you from my wrath!”
Did Mikhail have any idea how pretentious he sounded? Probably not, as he always seemed to talk that way. “What do you think would happen if I dropped a mountain on your head?”
Mikhail stopped struggling for a moment. “What?”
Damien drew all but a fraction of his remaining power. If there was lava running through the walls the main pool had to be fairly close to the surface. He fired a blast at the floor and another at the ceiling.
The cavern trembled.
Huge boulders fell from the ceiling and bubbling magma erupted from the floor.
It was time for Damien to go. He shot a little salute at Mikhail, wrapped the unconscious druids in a bubble, and raced for the exit.
All around him lava burst from the walls. Some spattered his shield, but none penetrated.
The roar of tons of falling stone pained his ears until he could hear nothing but the mountain’s death. Ahead of him he caught a glimpse of the night sky. With a final burst of speed he shot out of the cave. Damien spun and watched the mountain collapse in on itself.
The jagged peak trembled then burst as lava spewed into the sky. All along the ground cracks opened and magma oozed out.
Maybe he’d overdone it a bit.
He spotted Jen and Leah still far too close to the crumbling mountain. Damien drew from his badly diminished core and scooped his sister and the others up in a bubble. When they were far enough away to be safe Damien shifted the bubble into a platform and landed beside Jen.
“How’d it go?” He put his arm around her shoulders.
Before Jen could answer Leah ran over and grabbed his tunic. “What have you done? I told you not to destroy the circle. Now it will take months if not years to repair the damage to the ley line.”
Damien frowned. “But you can still do it, right?”
She blinked and stared at him. “Yes.”
“If I’d lost and Mikhail had killed you all, how long would it take to repair the damage?”
She slumped down to the platform. “I take your point.”
Damien watched the magma ooze towards the corrupted forest. “This may work out better in the long run anyway. The lava will burn away the tainted earth and leave the forest healthier.”
“What about us?” Delia asked.
“If it was up to me, I’d drop you both in the lava, but we’ll let the wise one decide your fate. You lot no longer seem like much of a threat.”
Eleck stared up at him, the stumps of his hands held like a supplicant. “What will become of me?”
Damien studied his soul force. The bulk of the corruption was below his elbows, but some had worked its way further. “If I amputate your arms at mid-biceps, you have a chance of surviving. If you do nothing you’ll be dead in a week.”
Eleck chuckled without humor. “Your bedside manner is appalling.”
Damien shrugged. “I’m not a healer. Truth is I’m surprised Jen let you live.” He glanced at Delia. “Either of you.”
Jen shook her head and smiled. “Just following your example. Without the rings or talismans they’re no threat. Perhaps the wise one will want to make an example of them. Hang them in the public square from some of those roots he’s got everywhere. Either way I think our work is done here. Let’s drop them off and go home.”
Chapter 43
Damien and Jen flew along in a bubble above the Great Green on their way back to the capital. They’d spent another night in the temple at the wise one’s insistence. The wise one had decided, for whatever reason, to spare Eleck and the others. Letting them run around loose seemed like a poor notion to Damien, but it wasn’t up to him. Damien had sliced Eleck’s arms clean off just below the shoulder. He felt pretty confident that he’d burned out all the corruption.
They’d spent an hour talking with the fallen druid, getting all the details—at least all the details Eleck had—about Connor’s plans. The truth was he didn’t know much beyond the fact that the warlock wanted him to create a conjunction of ley lines in that huge cavern so he could draw on the deep well of power. What Connor wanted all that power for Eleck had no idea, though Damien doubted it was for anything good.
Eleck had also provided them with rough directions to Connor’s base in the Crescent Mountains. Though he’d only been there once and wasn’t exactly sure how to get back to it. Even without exact directions, as long as they could get close, any competent sorcerer would sense Connor’s corruption. Damien was pretty sure the archmage would be pleased when he gave his report.
“What are you smiling about?” Jen asked.
“I was just thinking that all things considered our mission went pretty well. It would be great if Uncle Andy let us work together more often. We complement each other really well.”
“I’ve thought the same thing. Isn’t it strange how seldom sorcerers and warlords team up? Every ti
me I’ve worked with a sorcerer, either you or Master Shen, my missions have ended in success, more or less.”
“I will admit that when we go after Connor I’m not sure I want you to come. He’s going to be even stronger than Mikhail and I’m not certain how you could fight him from the ground.”
“Yeah, some enemies are simply beyond a warlord, but if you tell Dad I said that I’ll deny it. Speaking of enemies, have you decided what you’re going to tell Karrie?”
Damien groaned. He’d done his level best to forget about the unreasonable princess, but now that they were finished with their mission he couldn’t put it off much longer. “I don’t know. What do you think? I could be king and you can be my champion.”
They both laughed at that. If there was something that needed fighting and Damien couldn’t handle it they would both be in trouble. His good mood vanished as quickly as it arrived. He really did need to tell her something.
Audra didn’t spend that much time in the throne room with Uncle Andy. If Karrie were willing to handle the politics and let him spend his time in the field it might not be so bad. She’d get what she wanted and he wouldn’t have to do anything he didn’t like. If that suited her he might just take her up on the offer. Since Lizzy didn’t seem to mind everyone would end up happy, or at least content.
The capital appeared on the horizon a little after midday. From so far away the damage didn’t look quite as bad. Damien knew it was just an illusion. There’d be no shortage of work once they dealt with Connor.
He landed the bubble in the castle courtyard. Guards and workers were scrambling around on various errands. A Crimson Legionnaire waved at Damien from her place on the battlements. If you concentrated on the castle and ignored the rest of the city everything looked pretty normal.
“Want to try the throne room first?” Damien asked. “If my master is there we can make one report and have it over with.”
Jen shrugged. “Fine with me.”
They’d barely taken a step when the castle doors slammed open and Sig stormed out. What the hell was that idiot doing in the capital? Damien had enough to handle without that fool getting underfoot.
Sig stalked straight toward them, his power crackling around his body. Damien increased the power to his shield just to be safe. He doubted Sig would start something in the castle courtyard, but on the other hand the giant from the north wasn’t exactly known for his prudence.
Sig stopped three feet from Damien and Jen. Damien raised an eyebrow. “Sig. Something I can do for you?”
“Die slowly, gnawed by a thousand ice trolls.”
Damien winced. “I think I’ll pass on that, thanks. Who put the bug up your ass?”
Sig snarled. “She’s mine. Do you understand? Mine!”
Damien and Jen shared a look. “Could you run through that one more time, with clarity?” Damien asked.
“Princess Karrie. I know you’re engaged to be married. I won’t let you get away with it. I’m more worthy to be king than a runt like you. I’ll kill you and claim her for myself.”
Damien had only heard every other word after “engaged.” What made Sig think they were engaged? He’d never even answered her. Damien slowly clenched his fists. Whether he married her or not, loved her or not, he wouldn’t let anyone treat the princess like some side of meat for the dogs to fight over.
“I don’t see how it’s any of your business who Karrie marries. And she certainly doesn’t belong to you or me for that matter. She’s her own person free to choose as she wishes.”
Sig backhanded him hard enough to make Damien take a step back, more from shock than pain. “I challenge you to a sorcerers’ duel to the death!” Sig shouted. “The princess will have no choice but to acknowledge the survivor as the better mate. And that will be me.”
Damien stared at Sig for a moment. He couldn’t have heard right. “You’re challenging me to a duel?”
“Yes, damn you. Name the time and place of your death.”
Damien shook his head. This had to be a joke. He expected John and Karrie to run out any moment and yell “Surprise!” When no one appeared after several seconds it became clear Sig wasn’t joking. It seemed an extravagant way to kill himself, but who was Damien to question it? “Noon tomorrow, halfway between the tree line and north gate.”
“Fine! Enjoy your last night breathing.” Sig leapt into the air and flew away.
“He’s insane,” Jen said. “Are you really going to fight him?”
“I don’t know. I’ll see what Uncle Andy, the duke, and my master have to say about it. Then I think I need to talk to Karrie.”
Chapter 44
Darkness surrounded Mikhail. He couldn’t breathe or move. There was no sound and all he smelled was scorched earth mingled with sulfur. He feared, feared for the first time since abandoning his mortal self, that the intense heat would consume him. Mikhail never should have doubted the master’s power. Despite the pain his armor had kept him alive.
The boy had tricked him again. Twice he’d lost to a mere whelp. A child! If the heat didn’t kill him the embarrassment might. He let the anger rise and pushed out with hellfire. His left arm came free and soon after his right popped free as the dark fire carved out a pocket of space around him. In less than a minute Mikhail’s body was free of its stone tomb.
He straightened his legs and banged his head on the stone above. The tiny space he’d made for himself was barely adequate. He’d lost his sword somewhere in the earth. Mikhail didn’t care how long it took, he wouldn’t leave until he regained it. Bad enough the master had had to provide him a new arm, he wouldn’t return without his weapon.
Mikhail concentrated and soon sensed the blade. It was as much a part of him as his hand or foot and every bit as important, maybe more important. He followed the connection, burning away earth and stone until after an unknowable time he reached the hilt of his weapon. Mikhail grabbed it and ripped it free of the confining rock. Now he felt whole again. There remained the task of burning his way free. He had no idea how deep his tomb was.
Mikhail growled in the back of his throat. He would kill the boy next time. There was no question of it.
He raised his black sword and flames poured forth. Foot by agonizing foot Mikhail rose through the crumbly black stone. Hours later, exhausted and nearly drained of soul force, the tip of his sword burst through the outer crust of the lava field. Mikhail smashed the last of the stone away and climbed out.
All around him looked like a scene from the end of the world. Black, still-warm stone covered everything. The mountain where the weak druid and his servants worked had collapsed into a pile of rubble. He would give the boy this much credit: when he destroyed something he did a thorough job. Mikhail appreciated that.
He turned first toward the druid village then back north to the master’s library. Conflicting desires warred in him. Mikhail badly wanted to slaughter the villagers, but he also needed to hurry back and warn the master that his enemies may now know where his library was hidden.
Mikhail willed himself into the air and grimaced. He hated flying without a proper mount, it was beneath his dignity as a knight, but he had to do what he had to do. Mikhail turned north. The villagers would have to wait.
Chapter 45
Damien watched Sig fly off and shook his head. What had he gotten himself into? Or more accurately what had Karrie gotten him into? Sig was a problem for later. For now the king needed to know what had happened.
“That wasn’t the sort of greeting I expected,” Jen said as they walked toward the castle.
Damien shrugged. “Whoever expects to be challenged to a duel to the death?”
The guards opened the outer doors for them and Damien nodded as they strode past.
Jen glanced his way. “I wonder whatever possessed Karrie to tell that idiot you agreed to marry her.”
“That’s an excellent question. After we finish talking to Uncle Andy and my master I intend to find out.”
The next set
of guards opened the door to the throne room. The king sat on his throne, the archmage on one side and the captain of the guard on the other. Damien had expected to see his father, but there was no sign of the king’s champion. Instead a giant of a man in blue and white fur-trimmed robes waited in front of the throne and a little to the left. Damien didn’t know the man, but judging from his size and dress he was probably Sig’s father. This could be awkward.
Damien and Jen stopped ten feet from the throne and bowed. “Majesty, we’ve completed our mission,” Jen said.
“Report,” Uncle Andy said.
Between them Jen and Damien gave a full accounting of the past few days. When they finished his master was smiling her evil smile. “Now we know where to find the son of a bitch. I’ll need two days to assemble a strike force. With your permission, my king.”
Uncle Andy nodded. “By all means. The sooner we can put an end to Connor Blackman the better I’ll feel.”
The archmage bowed and hurried out to, Damien assumed, send messages to both The Tower and whatever other sorcerers she might need. He hadn’t seen her so eager in weeks. Not that he blamed her—now that they had a solid lead on the warlock’s location they needed to act. That made Sig’s challenge seem even more of a waste of effort.
“There’s one other thing, Your Majesty,” Damien said.
“It’s about my son, right?” the big man said.
Damien glanced his way. “You’re Sig’s father?”
He nodded and the king said, “Damien, this is Duke Iceborn. He came south to thank you for what you did in the war last winter.”
“Nice to meet you, my lord.” Damien bowed to the duke. He wanted to ask how he raised such an ass of a son, but that didn’t seem politic. “Sig just challenged me to a sorcerers’ duel to the death.”
The duke flinched and made a strangled sound. “What did you say?”
