Blademage Adept (The Blademage Saga Book 3)

by Chris Hollaway

  Love them as I have, and they shall serve you well.

  Updrafts lifted and carried the spheres to her outstretched claws, and she cradled them close for a few moments before turning and offering them to Kevon and the others.

  Kevon winced, accepting the first sphere M’phes offered. “I still… don’t…”

  A sound not unlike the tinkling of wind chimes filled the air, and Kevon realized the goddess was laughing. He smiled and shrugged, clutching the warm life before him as tightly as he dared.

  “I’ll pack this out of here for you,” Yusa glanced at Kevon as he took the other egg from M’phes. “But they’re not going on my boat.”

  Chapter 45

  “Whoa!” Kevon shouted, tumbling over the smooth stone floor, cradling his delicate cargo close to his chest. He rolled to his feet, and stepped aside as Yusa exploded through the portal, turning to slide on his back, holding the light blue sphere he carried aloft.

  Alanna hopped through the blustery tear in the world, shifting her balance, finding her footing, and sliding less than a handsbreadth once she touched down. “Amateurs,” she muttered, watching her companions struggle to their feet.

  “You weren’t carrying…” Kevon protested.

  “Precisely.” Alanna peered at Jacek. “We’re all here. You can stop that now.”

  Jacek groaned and released the magic. The portal closed with a whoosh and a whistle.

  “How long were we gone this time?” Kevon asked. “And where is everyone else?”

  “There has been some added excitement the last few days. The new Riders are training.” Jacek straightened and started out of the room. “Oh, and you were gone three weeks this time.”

  * * *

  “A lot less crowded than when we left,” Alanna observed as they entered the observation shelf above the hatching area.

  “All of the nesting pairs have left, the young have taken wing.” Jacek explained. “There is much to celebrate, including your return. Seven new riders were Chosen. Only one aspirant remains for next year.”

  “I thought there were only seven Aspirants,” Kevon frowned.

  “Yes,” Jacek laughed. “That is an interesting story.”

  Frantic shadows smeared across the cave entrance, but were gone before Kevon could turn his head. “Training?” he wondered aloud.

  “They’ve been out for a while,” Jacek offered. “They should be returning soon… Are those…. What I think they are?”

  “We can discuss that later.” Kevon placed the package, already wrapped in his outer cloak, on the stone bench near another bundle. “Can we find something to wrap the other one with?”

  The exhausted Warrior sprawled down next to his cloak on the bench.

  “It’s nice to be able to relax without focusing on the medium beneath you,” Reko whispered in Illusion-sound. “I may rest awhile.”

  “Magi can have good ideas, after all,” Alanna purred, sliding down beside Kevon, twining her arm around his, lacing her fingers into his hand. “Rest elsewhere.”

  Kevon’s laugh died in his throat, as the flight of novice Riders returned from their training. Ashera and Stormclaw led, the Claw of the Riders guiding her steed in a wide circle around the back of the cavern, wingtips brushing the wall before alighting below Kevon and the others.

  “Aha!” Flynn shrieked in triumph as he and his griffin touched down, taking the direct route toward the back, the first of the group to land. “Ah… ahhh!” He tumbled over his mount’s head, spinning as he shook free from one of the stirrups a second earlier than the other.

  “Flynn!” Ashera fumed. “I don’t care if you bust your head open, but you need to protect your griffin!”

  “Sorry, sir!” Flynn hopped up, and extended a hand to calm his now skittish charge. Seconds later, his arms were around her neck, face buried in her feathers as she squawked happily.

  The other Riders were filtering back toward Ashera, exuberant chatter mixing with the griffin-noise the chamber had felt empty without.

  “Lean more into your turns,” Ashera advised one of her students. “Take a few more seconds to land,” she admonished Flynn. “And you, stop showing off.”

  “I fly how I feel,” Rhysabeth-Dane giggled. “We fly how we feel,” she corrected herself, adjusting the shoulder strap on her riveted plate armor. “Oh!” she squealed, noticing the others watching wide-eyed from the bench. She rushed toward the back, slowing as she reached the edge of the shelf. “Guess what happened?”

  * * *

  “Lost interest in the book, then?” Alanna teased, finishing loading her plate with two slices of bread. “Can’t say that I blame you.”

  “No, quite the opposite,” Rhysabeth chuckled, setting her lunch down on the makeshift table in the carved dining chamber. “I’ve gotten nearly all of this set of symbols translated. In just two days.”

  “How is that possible?” Kevon asked, sitting down between them. “You’ve spent so much time researching with no progress, then everything makes sense?”

  “The second set of runic symbols are more artistic, emotionally charged, than the others,” Rhysabeth-Dane explained, gazing past the others. I couldn’t even catch a hint at their meanings until I flew with Brightwing for a while. The Unbound fly in patterns that reminded me of things I’d seen in the book. Knowing the emotion, finding the context…”

  “A language based on the flight patterns of griffin?” Yusa’s face scrunched a bit, then he let out a sigh. “Not the strangest thing I’ve experienced today.”

  “Riders are connected to their griffin,” the librarian continued, between large bites of food. “I’m not sure if I feel it more, or less, because I’m a dwarf. The connection is there.”

  “How did you get chosen, at all?” Kevon gaped, giving in to his curiosity.

  “I sat and studied, on the bench above the cavern,” Rhysabeth-Dane explained. “The Aspirants were situated much closer… present, but trying not to interfere with the griffin. I would help take food and water down to them, every so often. It caught Brightwing’s attention.”

  “You’re fitting in nicely with the locals, I’ll give you that,” Alanna teased.

  “Not as much as some,” Rhysabeth-Dane admitted. “Broma-Dhug, the Stoneguard? He’s the new Fist at Cliffside Camp.”

  “How did the rest of that go?” Kevon turned to listen closer.

  “Ashera’s second in command is now Seacliff’s Claw. The previous Hand of the Meek has been restored to his position. Stonespire’s Fist…”

  “We knew that was going to be the most difficult,” Kevon assured her.

  “Rowyn’s rival from Fallenlake Camp. Ashera has not said much on the matter, but she is not pleased.”

  “Where is Kylgren-Wode?” Alanna asked. “He’s usually not far from…”

  “Teaching the Seacliff Striders to speak our tongue,” she grumbled. “Broma-Dhug was not learning Common quickly enough.”

  “The training is nearly complete,” Ashera announced, entering the dining chamber, followed by the rest of the new Riders. “Two days, and we will move back to the camps. Your return was timely.”

  “After the meal, we would speak with you alone,” Kevon met her questioning gaze without wavering.

  “Double time!” Ashera barked, goading the young Riders through their meal, and back toward the rest chamber. “Now,” she turned and faced the five that remained. “What is so important?”

  “Follow us.” Kevon stood and led the way back to the observation platform, where the two wrapped spheres lay on the stone bench next to Rhysabeth-Dane’s research.

  “You know, as well as anyone, of the darkness that spreads across the realm,” Kevon paused, turning to address the Griffinsworn. “We’re combating it by destroying the portals that we’ve found, eradicating creatures of darkness when we encounter them.”

  “A war we’ve been fighting for generations,” Ashera frowned. “Not for a belief, but for survival.”

  “Your people are
strong, skilled, and principled,” Kevon nodded. “They have shielded even their enemies from the blight of the chimaera, which makes you all the more fit for this task.”

  “You burden us with yet another task?” Ashera’s hand shifted toward the knife at her belt.

  “A glorious task, a dreadful responsibility,” Kevon nodded. “A terrifying reward.”

  “Your riddles try my patience,” Ashera warned.

  “My apologies,” Kevon offered. “This is something I trust no one else with. The elves are worthy, but lack your experience.”

  “Huh,” Ashera’s eyes narrowed. “The only thing the elves are possibly less experienced at is riding griffin.”

  Kevon unrolled one of the spheres, and held it out to Ashera. “Or dragons?”

  * * *

  “You gave her what?” Carlo turned, and lurched as a rock slid from underfoot, sailing off the narrow path and tumbling down to the sea far below.

  “Easy,” Kevon cautioned, reaching out to steady his mentor. “No one else has the experience needed to manage this. They already have the power to conquer the lowlands, now that the darkness in their midst has been cleansed. They’ve never acted on it before. The elves trust them, and so do I.” He looked up and to the west at the clusters of Unbound circling in uncharacteristic formations for a moment, before continuing up the path.

  “You bring dragons back into the world, and give them…”

  “They were his to give,” Alanna interrupted, moving up behind Kevon. “I’m glad we’re rid of them. Keep walking.”

  “Rider patrols report no chimaera groups between here and Seacliff Camp,” Jacek reported as the others made their way off the winding path, up through the narrow notch at the cliff edge. “We should be there well before the light fails.”

  “The new Riders are taking shifts in the skies above us,” Anneliese glanced at a whirling speck high above. “Your dwarf seems to be enjoying herself.”

  “The Griffinsworn will not disappoint you,” the Huntmistress added, jostling into Carlo as they began their walk. “They have never failed me.”

  “I don’t disagree with his decision,” Carlo rumbled. “But I don’t answer to him.”

  “If your Prince does not see the wisdom in this…” Anneliese trailed off, and shrugged.

  I’m just glad that Ashera was here to hand this burden off to, Kevon thought, leaning against the stone slab that flanked the path back down to the nesting grounds. We have enemies enough without adding dragons into the mix. I’d lose Alanna for certain.

  “Are you going to stay here, or coming with us?” Alanna stopped and turned to tease Kevon. “We don’t have all…”

  Griffin-screeches and sudden wingbeats were broken up by the thudding of a dozen or more Unbound landing between Kevon and the others. The unbroken griffin milled around in a semicircle, surrounding Kevon. More Unbound landed every few seconds, and the circle tightened as they crowded in closer toward him.

  “What the…” Kevon slipped back into the crevice that led to the path below, limiting the creatures’ access to him as they continued to close in. He stretched to catch a glimpse of the others, and saw Anneliese standing between the now two-score griffin and the rest of the group, motioning for them to remain calm.

  ‘Enough griffin to scour us from the face of the Highplain’, Kevon recalled Ashera’s words. More than enough here to account for all of us, he sighed at the grim thought.

  A dozen feet from where Kevon stood, the moving wall of Unbound griffin stopped, and a single battle-scarred male continued forward. He stalked to within a sword length of Kevon, and sat.

  Kevon jumped at the sudden squawk in the waning clamor, as the sitting griffin screeched his displeasure. A wave of murmured hisses and chirps roiled through the milling audience, but faded to the dull rustling of feathers.

  They’re waiting for something, Kevon thought, pushing his words into an Illusion rune so that the others could hear. If they wanted to hurt us, we’d be dead already. He took a deep breath, and stepped forward to where the griffin waited.

  As Kevon approached, the Unbound before him lowered its beak, shuffling its front claws forward, leaning until its head was waist high when the Warrior stopped at arm’s length. Kevon reached slowly, and scratched the griffin’s feathers above its beak, between the eyes. It hissed, a low steady exhalation, and stretched its neck forward. Kevon smiled and scratched harder, unable to think of another response.

  The griffin’s beak clicked around the grip of the sword at Kevon’s side, and lifted it, starting to pull the blade from its sheath.

  Kevon’s hand slipped instinctively to the hilt, and he finished drawing the weapon as the griffin released it. He took a step back, dropping into a defensive stance, blade held across his body, as the griffin before him spread its wings and began hissing loudly. The others surrounding them copied their elder, completely obscuring the rest of Kevon’s group from his sight. After a few seconds of the annoying, yet frightening noise, Kevon whipped the sword straight up, and let out a battlecry.

  Every griffin within eyesight threw its head back, screeching to the heavens. Kevon could not help but think of the dragons that had called M’phes to her temple on the Plane of Wind. He half expected a portal to open, and see the creator hurtle through it to answer this summons.

  Moments passed, and the front ranks of the surrounding Unbound began launching skyward. In the span of a few breaths, every griffin was gone, a dizzying vortex of tan and white spiraling up and away, their implied threat vanished.

  Kevon lowered his gaze to the remaining griffin before him. He slowly sheathed his sword.

  The elder griffin stood a few seconds longer, squawked, and launched himself after his fellows.

  Kevon made his way over to where the others had stopped, glancing up at the slow spiral of Unbound that still whorled overhead.

  “What in the world was that about?” Jacek asked as Kevon rejoined the group.

  “I have a feeling it’s nothing from this world,” Kevon answered, resting his hand on the sword hilt at his side. “Let’s move. I doubt the Unbound will turn on us. If they do, there’s little we could do about it.”

  * * *

  “Well before the light fails?” Kevon asked Jacek, peering at the crimson skyline. “Seacliff Camp is still an hour away.”

  “You can’t walk as fast when you spend half your time looking up,” the Court-Mage grumbled.

  “We had no delays to combat chimaera,” Yusa offered. “Kevon’s pets made short work of them.”

  “They’re not…” Kevon sighed, stopping to look up at the dozens of griffin that still circled above them. “I don’t know what they are, really.”

  “They’re a gift,” Alanna laughed. “And a curse. Just like what I…”

  Kevon followed Alanna’s gaze as she quieted and stared toward the southwest. A bright pinpoint of red winked out of existence, and she shook her head.

  “I see so much more now, but I can’t always tell…”

  “That was real,” Kevon interrupted. “I saw it. It looked like…”

  Something tickled at the edge of Kevon’s awareness an instant before the light reappeared, no more than half a mile distant. The rune for Fire splashed into Kevon’s mind, solidifying and sharpening for a moment before dissolving, along with the distant light.

  “Pholos…” Kevon felt the magic and the heat from the portal at the same time, hot on the back of his neck. A tug on his jacket, and he fell backwards into the inferno.

  Chapter 46

  Ash and steam clouded Kevon’s vision, the surrounding heat surpassing that of his frontier forge in a matter of moments.

  “Quickly!” Pholos rasped. “They’re coming! They’re both coming!”

  Kevon climbed to his feet, and wiped at his eyes. He sprinted after Pholos, along the rocky shore of a flaming lake, across a crumbling stone bridge that spanned a flow of molten stone that flowed into the lake. He could feel an oddly familiar sensation,
something he’d felt only twice before in his life. It was as different from the other two as they had been from each other, but he could tell what it was immediately. He stopped, and turned toward where he felt it. “But it’s…”

  “No time!” Pholos cried over the booming eruption of a nearby volcano. “We’ve all been betrayed! Hurry!”

  Mindful of the differences of time between his world and the other Planes, Kevon rushed to where Pholos stood, deep in concentration. He opened his mind to his friend, and the magic flowed into the runes that opened the portal.

  “Go!” Pholos shouted, shoving Kevon before him, leaping in after.

  * * *

  Kevon stumbled through the water to the shore of the stream, glad of the cool soaking after the heat of the previous few minutes. He moved to where Pholos had fallen on the shore, curled in on himself, sobs of suppressed pain convulsing through his body.

  A sharp intake of air, and the Mage steadied himself, rolling to a seated position. “The cold burns worse than the fire,” A few breaths later, Pholos stood. “They’re not here yet. That’s good. There is still time.”

  “Time for what?” Kevon asked. “You tear me away from our friends, bring me here? Where are we even…” Kevon glimpsed the two ships anchored off the shore to the northwest. “The beach. Camp is that way.”

  “Wait,” Kevon stopped in mid-step, holding Pholos back at arm’s length. “Who is coming? We’ve been betrayed?”

  “Holten.” Pholos’s breathing was almost calmed down, but his eyes belied his composure. “I haven’t found him, but I’ve felt him. Over there. I’ve felt the signal, between the worlds. Felt the thing that’s been hunting us both.”

  “If that’s what I felt, I don’t think…” Kevon shook his head. “What signal?”

  “Fires, in a pattern,” Pholos explained. “I’ve felt them off and on, gone to investigate. They were burnt out, abandoned, in random places. I thought. Then I found a campsite near one of them. Then another. It looked like your campsites. I couldn’t catch up on my own, even when I could tell which way you were going.”