“You are stronger.” Darkken said to Maefon with thought. His voice was convincing and powerful. “I prepared you to take more potent mages than this lowly sorceress. You are Caligin. Take her down!”
Maefon’s teeth ground. She pushed herself up to a knee and shoved back against Virgo’s blistering tide of energy. Rising to her feet, she looked the woman dead in the eye. “If that’s all you have, it’s over.”
Virgo laughed. “Over for you, little elf, not me.” She spread her hands out. As she did so, the geyser of energy enveloped Maefon. Within a few seconds, Virgo covered her in constricting strands of energy. “Ha ha, how about a hug?”
Maefon wriggled against the mystic coils that pinned her arms to her sides. Her shield cracked, splintered, and, fleck by fleck, vanished. Then she unleashed her plan. Despite the lancing pain, Maefon spit out a powerful elven incantation. The bright energy blistered her body and seared her clothes. Her hair stood on end. The magic that constrained her was gone.
“Clever!” Virgo said with balled-up fists at her sides. “You think you can absorb my power, then let us see how much you can take!” She rushed Maefon. The two women locked fingers. Energy coursed through their bodies as they muttered enchanted words at one another.
Maefon reached deep inside her gut and summoned everything that Darkken had taught her. She felt Virgo’s will pushing deep into her body, stinging her bones, threatening to tear her body apart from the inside out. Down inside Maefon, a deep, insidious anger lurked, creating a powerful manifestation of energy. She let the dark inner beast out. It pushed back against Virgo and devoured the woman’s will.
Aghast, voice trembling, Virgo said, “What is this? What are you doing?” She tried to pull free of Maefon’s locked fingers. The elf held her more tightly than a vise.
Maefon forced the woman to her knees. Filled with power, she said to Virgo, “I’m killing you.” Radiant purple energy flowed down her arms in a river of power. It passed through Virgo’s fingers, hands, and arms.
The gorgeous white gown started to smoke underneath the sleeves. The beautiful woman cried out in agony. “Aaaeyeeee!”
The shrill scream could have cracked glass. Drunk with power, Maefon turned on the awesome power unleashed by the spell of inner darkness. Virgo’s skin hardened like sun-dried leather. She begged and pleaded. “No! No! Nooooo!” Her body convulsed. The skin cracked. Streaks of purple glowed underneath the cracking skin. All at once, her body turned into hot cinders and ash. The fibers of the gown caught fire. Her body became nothing but ash. Virgo was gone. The only things left of her were charred bones and some jewelry still clinging to her wrists and neck.
Maefon made a rueful smile. With exhilaration, she said, “I’ve never felt so alive!”
***
Nath rolled aside. The sledgehammer busted up the floor, shaking the ground. Face red with rage, Nina lifted the hammer again. Nath punched her in the gut.
A whoosh of air exploded from her lips. She collapsed to the ground, dropping the hammer, and clutched her belly. “Noooo,” she moaned.
Nath’s neck hairs stood on end. Behind him, he sensed a presence. He rammed his elbow backward. It connected with a rib cage. He spun around, catching Worm just as he fell. The rogue clutched a dagger in his hand. His face paled.
Worm started to mutter something. His body shimmered. Nath stepped on the hand that held the dagger. The thief moaned. His effort to vanish was nullified.
On instinct, Nath tore the man’s cloak away. It tingled in his fingertips. “So, this is how you sneak around.” He caught a scuffle behind him.
Nina tried to stand. Her good hand reached for the hammer.
“Don’t move, Nina,” he said. “You’re surrounded.”
Nina’s eyes slid to the Brothers of the Wind who now surrounded her. Battered, bruised, and bloodied, they’d clearly been in a nasty scrap. They covered Worm too, pinning him down with their feet. Nina snarled and spat on the ground.
“Not very polite for a woman,” Nath said as he picked the hammer up. It seemed the last of the fighting had ended. One elf, a Caligin, popped up from his spot where he played possum on the ground. He dashed to one of the windows and slid through. Two Brothers of the Wind gave chase. Wiping his hair out of his eyes, Nath scanned the room. Men, orcs, and elves, good and bad, had fallen. The brigands who didn’t escape were lined up against the wall on their knees with their hands on their heads. The elves guarded them. Nath spied Hacksaw sitting on the steps, drenched in sweat, drying off his sword. He moved to the man. “Are you well?”
Hacksaw put his pipe in his mouth. “I live. That’s always well.” He shook his head, surveying the room. “That was nasty. I’m not even sure what happened.”
“Neither am I,” Nath said. He took a deep breath. It had all ended as fast as it happened. One moment, Darkken and Tobias were battling on the platform, then all chaos broke loose. He noticed that Cullon was dead. “You beat the dwarf?”
“Barely.”
“I’m glad,” Nath said. As his blood cooled, so did the gems on the gauntlet and hammer. There were so many dead on the floor. The odd thing that struck him hardest were the elves. Many of the Caligin had died. There were only eight Brothers of the Wind left standing watch over the soldiers and brigands that gave themselves up. That’s when he spied Maefon sitting on the floor on the far-right side, kneeling over a pile of ashes. Her face was ashen. Tears streaked her face. Squeezing the old knight’s shoulder, he said, “I’ll be back.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, puffing smoke out of the pipe. “My extremities won’t let me.”
Nath crossed the room and kneeled beside Maefon. Taking her trembling hand in his, he said, “Are you all right? You’re warm as toast.”
With her eyes transfixed on the ashes, Maefon sighed. “I’m drained. I felt like a titan a moment ago, but now, I can hardly feel a thing.” She looked at Nath. “I killed her, Nath. I’ve never killed someone like that before.”
Nath stared at the ashes. His brows lifted. “That was a person?” He started to ask who, but then he saw loose pearls and a bracelet scattered in the ashes. There were fragments of white satin cloth too. In awe, he said, “You did this to Virgo?”
“It was either that or she did the same to me.” She gave him a somewhat worried and blank stare. “I didn’t know I had that in me. I cast a spell, and a monstrous force came out. It was thrilling and scary at the same time. Did I do wrong, Nath?”
Nath rubbed his nose. The foul smell of disintegrated flesh hung heavy in the air. “I hate to see anyone die before justice is meted out, but so long as you are alive, that is all that matters. I’m just dumbstruck that you wield such power.”
“It’s my gift. But I never used it so much at Dragon Home. Since I’ve been gone, I’ve been training.” She rubbed her hands. Wisps of energy flowed out of them. “I’m tired.”
“I think we all are.” Nath put his arm around her shoulders, lifted her to her feet, and led her toward the platform.
Darkken stood at the top with Fang gleaming in his hands. He walked down the steps and held out the sword, letting it rest on his forearms. He gave Nath a nod. “I believe this is yours.”
CHAPTER 7
“Fang,” Nath said in a barely audible voice. He took the sword by the handle and lifted it out of Darkken’s arms. The heft of the sword felt like an old friend returning to his hand. They hadn’t spent much time together, he and the gift made by his father, but having the blade back in his hand filled a big part of the void that was in him. His eyes watered. “I’m sorry I lost you. I swear, I’ll never let it happen again.”
“It’s a magnificent piece of workmanship, the likes of which I have never seen,” Darkken said, rubbing his shoulder and rolling it a few times. “I can certainly see why it means so much to you. A sword can be a true friend. One that always listens to what you say and never talks back to you.”
Nath ran two fingers down the blade. “I don’t know about t
hat. Fang has a mind of his own sometimes.”
Darkken tilted his head. “Really?”
Nath shrugged. “He’s quiet, but I know he is thinking.”
“That’s very interesting.” Darkken eyed his palm, clutching his fingers in and out. “You know, I felt something when I held it, or him, rather. His handle is warm, like a living thing. My sword, Scalpel, though elven, is cold in the grip, even on a warm day. Pure elven steel, forged with a single purpose, to cut, slice, and kill. But I failed against Tobias. His blade was a living thing, like yours. He almost got the best of me.”
Nath noticed Tobias lying on the platform, dead. His neck was bent awkwardly. His hand was inches away from his sword, Splitter. Nath’s stomach turned. “You choked him?”
With a heaviness in his voice, Darkken said, “He disarmed me. Desperate, I jumped him, drove him hard to the ground, and snapped his neck against the dais. The fall worked to my fortune; otherwise, I would have been lying dead the same as him.”
Nath felt eyes on him. Hacksaw was sitting several feet away, puffing on his pipe. He gave Nath a doubtful look. Maefon sat down beside Darkken. She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders. “We are all fortunate. We live, and we have each other. Nath, I’m glad you have your sword back. I hope it makes you happy.”
He nodded, but it seemed like such a high price to pay to retrieve his blade. So many were dead, all on account of him wanting to regain his sword. That wasn’t what he’d had in mind. He wanted to take the Black Hand down but not at the cost of so many. His stomach twisted. “You lost many elves. I feel awful about that.”
“They were mine to command, and though I love them like brothers, they knew what we were getting into.” Darkken leaned his head gently into Maefon’s. “At least this dear one is well. And Nath, what we did here was meaningful. The Black Hand has been exposed. The people of Riegelwood will have a bright future, not a dark one. Their liberation was worth fighting for.”
A choking sob interrupted the conversation. Princess Janna sat at the base of one of the thrones. Her arms were wrapped around the old cleric’s knees. Nath went to her. “Janna.”
She turned to look at him. Her tear-filled eyes were puffy. “He’s dead. Cleric Carl is dead.” She sniffed. “Why is he dead? He never would have hurt anybody. He’s old, harmless, and feeble.”
Nath’s eyes grazed over the old man. There weren’t any signs of him being hurt. No blood or wounds. Nath’s heart sank, however. The fight might have been too much for him to handle. “Perhaps it was just his time. He appears to have died naturally.”
Janna wiped her nose on the sleeve of her gown. “Do you really think so?”
“It doesn’t appear that anyone hurt him.” He helped Janna to her feet. Putting his arms around her tiny waist, he said, “Are you going to be well?”
She touched his face. “I knew you were real. I doubted, but deep inside, I somehow knew that you would come. But I can’t marry you. It is Darkken that fought for my hand, and I must marry him. I’m sorry.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Darkken said as he sprang to his feet and made his way to Janna. He took her away from Nath. Looking deep into her eyes, he said in his charming manner, “As great an honor as it would be to be your beloved, sadly, I cannot commit to that. We came to put an end to this tyranny and avenge your father, but we still are in pursuit of old enemies, much like the Black Hand. It would be best if you married the man who is your heart’s true desire. You are free to choose now. Make that choice when you are ready.”
She stuck her bottom lip out. “Are you rejecting me? I don’t like rejection.”
“Even a blind man could not reject one as fair as you. I am just a man bound by duty.” He spread her arms out and looked over her splendid figure. “And today, it wounds me.”
Janna cracked a smile. “I will let you off the hook. And you are right, there is another that has eyes for me the same as I have for him.”
“Janna! Janna!” a man cried out. He ran down the aisle with a sword in his hand. He was a handsome young noble, not a brown hair out of place, with soft eyes and a kind face. He took the steps up to the platform two at a time. Nath and Darkken walled him off. “Get out of my way before I cut the both of you down!”
CHAPTER 8
In a blink, Darkken took the sword out of the shorter man’s hands and grabbed him by the neck with one hand. He lifted him up on his tiptoes. “You’re interrupting our conversation.”
“Darkken, no, let him down.” Janna wedged herself between the two men and tried in vain to push Darkken’s arm down. “This is Edwin, a friend from the house of Shirlwood. A true friend.”
Darkken let go. “Sorry, Edwin.”
Rubbing his neck, Edwin coughed a few times, then stuck out his hand. “Nice to meet you.” They shook. He turned his attention to Janna. “Oh, I’m so glad you are well. I waited outside, praying this wedding would not take place. Then the pigeons burst from their perches. Your guests charged into the streets, screaming about a massacre.” He couldn’t take his eyes off Janna. “I fought my way inside, fearing the worst. Thank the moon and stars you are here. Eh, are you married?”
“Tobias is dead,” she replied. “Thanks to Darkken and Nath making an objection.”
“Yes, the mother of all objections,” Darkken said. “But the lordship is back in the hands of a true Janders now. I believe, Princess Janna, that you are in command once again. What is your wish?”
Gripping Edwin’s hands tightly in hers, she said, “To marry my true love, Edwin.” Edwin took her in his arms, dipped her down, and they kissed.
Nath could see true love exchanged between the kissing couple. For the first time in a long time, he felt good.
***
With the help of Nath, Darkken, and a score of Edwin Shirlwood’s men, Princess Janna took control of Castle Janders. Nath’s mission was not complete, however, and with a few lingering items that he needed to take care of, he took to the streets with Darkken, Maefon, and Hacksaw in tow. The Brothers of the Wind, meanwhile, stayed back to help Princess Janna and Lord Edwin’s men.
The stiff wind made for a bitter cold day as they traversed the cobblestone streets that were buzzing with gossip. The rumor mill spread the news about the upending of Lord Tobias. Nath could hear whispers about Tobias being assassinated by elves or poisoned from a goblet of wine. Most of the people liked Tobias, it seemed, and there were many people who sobbed on the porches.
“Slow down,” Hacksaw said as he skip-stepped up beside Nath. “I’m not sure what the big hurry is. Whatever you are after isn’t going to move. Now, where did you say we were going?”
“The Whistler,” Nath replied. “It’s the Black Hand’s hideout. At least the only one I know of. They used to have some things of mine in there, and I will have them back. With these keys, I will have them.” He opened his hand. Five keys were inside his palm. He had taken them from the dead bodies of Tobias, Virgo, and Cullon. Nina and Worm parted with theirs unwillingly, but they had little choice as they were hauled off to the dungeons.
“We are with you, Nath,” Maefon replied.
A wooden cart loaded with hay blocked the entrance to the alley that led to the Black Hand’s back door. Two donkeys were chewing on the hay. Nath squeezed by them and trotted down the alley. At the end, the heavy iron door waited, almost concealed by the outlying building’s shadows. Nath gave the door’s brass handle a tug. “Locked, but I expected that.”
“I don’t see a keyhole,” Hacksaw said.
“No, but I brought a key that can open any door.” Nath handed Fang back to Darkken, who handed him Stone Smiter in return. He spun the handle in his hand. The gemstone on top glowed with new light. He cocked the sledge over his shoulder. “Stand back.”
Hacksaw, Darkken, and Maefon took a full backward step.
Nath swung. The hammer struck true, busting the lock wide open. He flung the door aside and entered the empty room. It was dark, but the hammer’s gemstone offered light
. The walls were lined with storage shelves, and a large round table and chairs were in the middle. Scrolls were laid out and weighed down with stone markers covering the corners.
All of a sudden, the chandelier about the candles flickered on. Maefon’s hand glowed. She smiled at Nath. “You’re welcome.”
Hacksaw pressed his ear to the door that led back inside the tavern. Commotion from the kitchen workers could be heard through the wooden walls. “I’ll keep an eye out for anyone coming.”
Darkken moved in behind Nath. He helped Nath move sacks filled with grain and flour out of a nook in the back corner of the room. Nath popped open a false panel, reached inside, and dragged a treasure chest out.
“I’ll be,” Darkken said. “That looks like quite a haul.”
“It’s heavy.” Nath fished out the keys and stuck them in the chest. The chest was about two feet wide, half as deep, and tall. It was made from polished blackwood with brass fittings and hinges. Nath started to turn the keys, but Darkken grabbed his wrist. “What?”
“Is it possible that the keys need to be turned in a particular sequence?” Darkken asked. “I’ve known pirates in the Faalum Sea who were very crafty when it came to the locks on their treasure. With five keys, I’d say they went to a lot of trouble with this chest.”
“You make a good point. Uh…” Nath tried to recollect the sequence the Black Hand had put the keys in before. “I remember.”
“You’re certain?”
“I think you are overthinking it, but I’m certain.”
Cullon’s key was in the middle. Nina’s, left of it, Cullon’s, to the right with Virgo’s key on the far left, and Worm’s, the far right. Nath turned them in that order.
Click. Click. Click. Click. Click.
Darkken’s brows arched. “Well done.”
With Maefon standing nearby and Darkken kneeling beside him, Nath lifted the lid. The chest hinges creaked. Click.
Deadly Page 3
