All their faces were heavily marked, which Meg took as a good sign. As far as she understood, that meant they knew a lot of magic and were very good at it. From what Calen had told her, the mages back at the castle needed all the help they could get.
When everyone had settled into place atop the dragon, Meg checked to make sure they were all holding on, and then let Jakl launch himself back up into the sky. She never got tired of feeling the beat of his wings through the link, especially right at the start, when he was first gaining his initial speed and altitude. She could feel the air working to lift them higher, the power of him as he pulled them forward, the dwindling presence of the ground below. It was always wonderful, every time.
She heard one of the mages whimper slightly from behind her and smiled. She didn’t think it had been the old woman.
As they flew, Meg kept an extra-sharp eye out for danger this time around. She wished Anders could have been more specific! She doubted it had been a storm he’d felt coming — the sky was clear for as far as she could see. But then, the ground was, too. There were areas of dense forest that she couldn’t see into, but she didn’t think Krelig could move an army through there. Even a small one. Not if he were bringing the slaarh, anyway. At least some of the slaarh could fly; she expected that would be the way they came.
The closer they got to home, the better Meg felt. Whatever Calen had done seemed to have worked, thank the gods. And Anders. They’d get this last group safely inside, and then Serek would have all the mages he needed. Surely, this many mages, working together, would be able to bring down even someone as powerful as Mage Krelig. She knew he wouldn’t be alone, but he wouldn’t have nearly as many mages as they did. And if he showed up with the Lourin soldiers at his back . . . well, they had the Kragnir forces now. Thanks to you, she thought at Jakl fondly.
They were almost back. Meg was so busy thinking about the combined ferocity of Trelian’s and Kragnir’s armies that it took Jakl’s sudden tug at her through the link to bring her attention back to her surroundings.
Sorry, she thought at him. I was —
She broke off.
Behind her, she heard the other mages gasp and cry out.
A great horde of slaarh surrounded the castle in a dark, horrible ring. The afternoon light seemed to slide right off their oily black hides as though it couldn’t bear to touch them. They all had human riders atop them, and more men stood on the ground behind the monsters. Lourin’s forces, Meg thought. Maybe Baustern’s and Farrell-Grast’s, too.
And just inside the circle of monsters, a large group of mages stood facing Trelian’s front gate.
Krelig had come.
Jakl screamed and sent a burst of fire into the air before them. The slaarh’s heads snapped toward them, and the men on their backs seemed to be struggling to hold them in position.
Meg shook herself out of her shock and tried to evaluate the situation. She felt a smile tugging at her lips. The slaarh didn’t matter. Not unless they came up into the sky to meet them. Jakl could fly right over all of them and land safely inside. Krelig must not have realized that the opposing mages were traveling by dragon.
Ha, she thought. Go on, Jakl — bring us home.
Suddenly one of the mages — she thought it was the man just behind the old woman — called out in horror: “Stop! Princess, turn the dragon, you can’t —”
She turned back to look at him. “It’s all right! We can fly right over them!”
He was shaking his head desperately. “No! It’s the mages inside — there’s a magical barrier. I can feel it. You’ll hit it straight on. The dragon won’t be able to pass through it!”
Meg hesitated only for a second, then told Jakl to turn away.
He obeyed instantly, even before she was able to explain her hazy understanding of why it was necessary.
“I sense it, too,” the old woman said. “Do you all sense it? It surrounds the entire castle and grounds, like the cover on a hot dish.”
There were mutters of assent behind her.
Find a place to land, somewhere far enough away that we can stop and figure out what to do next, she told her dragon.
Meg did not like this one bit.
Because if this was the danger that Anders foresaw, it was going to get worse before it got better. She hadn’t needed extra strength to change course. She wouldn’t need it to land and see what the mages had to say about what to do. Which meant that whatever they decided to try must be the thing that would be difficult and dangerous.
Or maybe it wouldn’t be — not at first. But then it would all just go horribly, horribly wrong.
CALEN FELT IT JUST BEFORE IT happened. He couldn’t see anything, because he was deep inside the castle with the others, but he felt it.
And then a second later, they all did.
“He’s here,” Calen said. And then: “Did Meg make it back?” He ran for the door without waiting for an answer.
“Calen!” Serek called after him. Calen kept running.
He heard distant screams but didn’t stop to wonder what they were about. Down one hall after another, then up flight after flight of stairs until he reached the battlements. He burst outside and looked out over the wall.
He didn’t see Meg or Jakl anywhere. What he did see was a shimmering dome of magical energy encasing the entire castle and grounds. And beyond it . . .
Serek slammed through the door behind him. Calen could hear the other mages coming up the stairs, too.
“Dark Lord and Bright Lady,” Serek said softly as he came up next to Calen.
I’d almost forgotten how ugly those things are, Calen thought. The circle of slaarh surrounded the castle as far as he could see in either direction. And behind them was a host of men, some on foot, some on horseback. Closer, he saw people — Trelian’s people — running toward the castle doors, fleeing the enemies who had suddenly materialized in their midst.
“Where did they come from?” another mage asked, stepping up behind them.
“He transported them here,” Calen said. He could see faint traces of purple energy still floating around them.
“Transported — all of them?”
Calen nodded absently. He didn’t really care so much about that. He wanted to sort out what that dome was about. “Can you sense the barrier he’s put up?” he asked Serek. “I can’t tell. . . . It’s red, orange . . . white . . . some violet. . . . I don’t think it’s the same kind of spell he used to block magic energy before.”
“No,” Anders said, joining them. “It’s a physical barrier of some kind. Look.” He pointed, and they saw someone running toward it from the other side, some poor soul who had been out beyond its boundary when the slaarh appeared and was now trying to make it back inside to safety. A servant, Calen thought, returning from some errand. He was running flat out — unable, of course, to see that there was anything in front of him. Calen inhaled to shout a warning, ready to cast an amplification spell so the boy would be able to hear him from that distance, but it was already too late. The boy slammed into the barrier and flew horribly backward from the impact, landing several feet away on the grass. He did not get back up.
“Meg and Jakl will fly right into it!” Calen cried, scanning the skies for them. It was surely time for them to be back, wasn’t it? Or had something delayed them?
Had Krelig already killed them?
Serek put a hand on his shoulder. “She’ll have mages with her. They’ll sense it. They’ll warn her.”
Calen shook him off. “She might not listen! You know how she is! She might just —” He spun to face Anders. “This is what she needed the strength for! So she won’t die when she hits the barrier, so she’ll still be all right —”
“No,” Anders said again. “This isn’t it. I don’t know what she needs the strength for, but it’s not this. I can feel that much, at least.” He knocked lightly at his forehead with one fist. “Stupid glimmers.”
“Calen,” Serek said, “you have to cal
m down. We have more immediate problems.”
Calen stared at him incredulously. “Nothing is more important than —”
“Krelig is here,” Serek said, looking past him. “And I didn’t say more important; I said more immediate.”
Calen turned back to look out over the wall. Somehow he hadn’t even noticed Krelig at first. He was standing right there, surrounded by his band of traitors. Calen found himself searching for red hair and forced himself to stop. Helena was dead, and he knew it. He focused on Krelig instead. This was it, then. This was where it was all going to end. Where Krelig was going to be paid back for everything.
Or where they were all going to die.
“You warned everyone about being transported, right?” he asked Serek.
Serek nodded. The other mages had all emerged by this point, and they lined the battlement in a grim row. There were eighty-five of them now, counting the twenty-one new arrivals that Meg had delivered so far and including two apprentices, both of whom were younger than Calen himself.
The last of the castle folk who had been outside when the slaarh appeared had vanished into the castle, except for the serving boy, who still lay motionless, maybe dead, on the far side of the barrier. The slaarh shifted restlessly, pawing at the ground and occasionally snapping at one another. Otherwise, everything was still. Krelig’s mages stood in a ragged double line, staring up at them. At this distance, there was no way Calen could really feel Krelig’s gaze meet his own, but somehow he felt sure that they were looking right at each other.
Suddenly Krelig’s voice rang out from below, amplified to painful volume.
“Send down the boy!” he shouted. “Send him down to be punished, and perhaps we will let the rest of you live.”
“Be ready,” Serek said to the mages along the wall, in a low but carrying voice. “He knows we won’t send Calen down there.”
After a minute, Krelig sighed in false regret. “No? Are you certain? Perhaps you only need some encouragement.”
He raised his arm, and the slaarh all screamed their terrible, soul-piercing screams. It took everything Calen had not to clap his hands over his ears. Instead he cast a small spell of protection, filtering out the worst of the sound. He saw several others along the wall doing the same.
Then the slaarh all surged forward, lurching with horrible speed toward the castle.
The barrier must be spelled to allow Krelig’s side to pass through unharmed, Calen realized. It was still there; he could see it, but the slaarh didn’t hesitate, and it didn’t have any apparent effect on them as they crossed over. He was sure, though, that it would still be perfectly solid if Meg or Jakl tried to pass through. He hoped the mages with Meg were paying attention. If they ever showed up at all.
Calen heard answering cries from below, and then the Trelian and Kragnir soldiers were spilling forth from the gates, running to meet the enemy.
Krelig and his mages stood still, the slaarh parting around them on either side in their attack.
“Hold,” Serek said to the others. “This part is not for us.”
It was hard just to stand there and watch, though. The first wave of Trelian and Kragnir soldiers were on foot, the second on horseback, and the slaarh tore through them indiscriminately. Calen thought of the poison that coated the monsters’ claws and teeth. The soldiers’ armor would protect them a little, but probably not enough. Archers fired from the walls above and below, but while a few of the slaarh’s handlers fell to arrows, the creatures themselves appeared impervious. They needed magic to fight those things. Magic and Meg’s dragon. But the mages had to save their strength for Krelig, and Meg and her dragon were still nowhere to be seen.
“Now,” Krelig’s voice boomed at them from the ground. “Send down the boy.”
He couldn’t really expect that Serek would comply, but he still waited as though giving them time to change their minds. The mages on both sides stood in stony silence as the battle raged on around them.
“As you wish, then,” Krelig said finally. Calen didn’t think he sounded all that sorry. “We will take him from you.”
Krelig began walking forward, the traitor mages walking behind him, spread out to either side. The magic barrier shifted, moving with them and changing shape to encompass the castle and the area immediately before it, but leaving the slaarh and the soldiers outside its boundary. Calen saw it actually push some confused soldiers aside as it moved. And then the mages were standing below them, looking up. Too late, Calen realized he’d been too distracted by the barrier and the soldiers to pay attention to the mages themselves. His eyes sought out Krelig’s hands and saw red energy gathering around them.
“He’s about to cast!” Calen shouted to the others.
And then suddenly there were colors everywhere, as everyone started casting at once.
Serek had grouped all his mages into teams of three or four during the previous days, and had quickly matched the new mages with existing pairs or groups as they arrived. Everyone but Calen. He’d tried working together with Serek and Anders, but he always saw the colors early, and they were always a step behind. Finally Serek had agreed that Calen should just cast on his own.
The teams let the mages cast with greater strength and power than any of them would have alone. They took turns leading, the others in each team joining their magic to the leader’s, who directed the spell. There were more of them than there were of Krelig’s mages, but his were better trained and, Calen was fairly certain, more powerful overall. And definitely more ruthless.
The truth of this became apparent almost at once. Someone cried out to Calen’s right, and he turned to see two other mages staring at the empty space where their partner had been. Then they all heard the scream as the missing mage reappeared in the middle of the battling sea of slaarh. There was no chance for any of them to help. He went down, his screams abruptly silenced as one of the creatures tore off his head.
Mage Xanda, the one who had first cried out, now screamed her companion’s name. “Focus!” Serek shouted at her. “And the rest of you, keep your guard up! For gods’ sake, we were warned about the transporting! If you’re going to be bested, at least let it be for something you shouldn’t have already known to protect yourself against.”
Maybe now they’ll take this seriously, the voice in Calen’s head said grimly. He hated thinking that way, hated the coldness of that thought, but he knew it was justified. They still hadn’t really believed that the other mages could have turned so far against them. Maybe now they did.
A burst of red and blue energy exploded against his shield, and Calen realized that he needed to take Serek’s advice himself. Focus. He knew better than anyone how important that was. And he had a specific goal to accomplish. Let the others worry about the Magistratum traitors; he was going to throw everything he had at Krelig.
Krelig still stood where he’d begun, colors playing ceaselessly around his hands and head. Krelig could cast many things without using his hands for focusing the power, but even he couldn’t cast everything that way, and especially not when being attacked from all sides. Calen made himself ignore everyone else. He glared down at Krelig, channeling all his anger and pain and regret into his magic. He cast again and again, terrible, devastating spells he’d crafted in his mind all those nights he’d lain awake at Krelig’s fortress, and even more in the days since he’d returned. He thought of Helena. He thought of Meg and what Krelig would do to her and everyone else if he won here today. He thought of what it would mean for the whole world if Krelig returned them to the old days of mages ruling over everyone, using magic without rules or laws or conscience.
Krelig responded to the renewed power of Calen’s onslaught, shifting and looking up to face him head-on. He felt Krelig’s touch on his mind, heard the mage’s voice inside his head. You will pay for your betrayal, boy. You and everyone you hold dear. Did you hear Helena’s screams as you left her behind to die? That will be nothing compared to what your friends will suffer. C
alen felt the man’s terrible smile behind the words. You will see.
You’ll be the one to see, Calen sent back. He didn’t know if his words made it through, but it didn’t matter. He wasn’t going to let himself get distracted. Nothing mattered except casting again and again, blocking what Krelig and the others sent at him and sending back as much as he could. He pushed Krelig out of his head and sent spell after spell, commanding the magic to reach its target.
The magic obeyed as well as it could, but Krelig blocked everything with apparent ease. Calen blocked Krelig’s spells, too, but he knew that was only because of the precious extra seconds the early colors gave him. They were both fending off attacks from others as well, and so neither could concentrate their full power on their chosen target. That might have to change, Calen realized. He was going to wear himself out too quickly if this went on much longer.
Maybe the others will stop trying to kill you if you ask nicely, the voice in his head — his own voice, not Krelig’s this time — suggested sarcastically.
Shut up, Calen thought back. Obviously that wasn’t the answer. But they were going to have to try something. Because this wasn’t going to work.
As if to underscore that thought, another mage cried out from Serek’s group and stumbled backward from the wall. Calen glanced at her, unable to help it. The woman was screaming, her skin blazing with some kind of magical fire. Her partners turned to try to help her, and in their distraction one of them was hit from behind with the same spell.
Not working. This isn’t working, Calen thought desperately. He made himself refocus on Krelig, trusting that the others would see to the wounded mages if they could. But with a part of his mind, he also reached out to Serek with his summoning spell.
We have to try something else, Calen sent. He’s going to win if we don’t.
The Mage of Trelian Page 23
