A moat runs off the river as a smaller wall and drawbridge appear, two marble orbs holding the invisible chains. Elegant towers of fiery stone rise from the earth, some of them ending in spires and others having turreted rooftops. The central building is tiered and adorned with griffin statues, which have been enchanted to stretch their wings in the sunlight. Balconies with prismatic canopies grow from the walls as a glass dome rises above what will be a large ballroom. Waterfalls burst from two of the corner towers and carve ponds into the ground, the water cycling in and out of the moat through hidden tunnels. A banner of red unfurls over the entrance, but it freezes when Nyx finds herself unable to think of a royal signet. Letting a wry smile appear on her face, the half-elf creates the golden visage of a horned lion’s head. With the city plan locked in her mind, the channeler opens her eyes and is surprised to find that she has already made it real.
“Very impressive. Although, we’ll have to talk about the Ifrit symbol later,” Delvin says, taking Nyx by the hand. He helps the stunned half-elf walk through the crowd of thankful citizens, all of them reaching out to touch her arms. “It was amazing to watch. A fog drifted over the land and left this city as it dissipated. Timoran and I will take a look around tomorrow after we bring Luke back. That way we can give you a report on any places that need work. So, what are you going to call this city?”
Nyx snaps her fingers to create metal pillars along the streets, each one topped with a glowing orb of light. “Welcome to Spellstream.”
*****
“There’s nothing behind your palace. I mean, it’s just a white void,” Dariana points out as they wander around the castle’s carpeted hallways. The telepath hurls a piece of stale bread out the window and watches it bounce off the ivory barrier. “Thank the gods it’s only a really big wall covering what should be the rest of your property. I was afraid you gained the power to erase parts of creation. Shouldn’t you do something about your backyard before it becomes permanent?”
“I’ll take care of it after the ritual is done,” Nyx answers, the fledgling queen unsure of where she is going. She spots a guard at the far end of the hallway, but decides it would be too awkward to ask for directions in her own home. “Spellstream came out rather nicely considering I had to do one powerful ritual while in the middle of another. Now if only I can remember where I put the scrying chamber because I want to contact Casandra before anything else happens. It’s strange that I know what’s in this building, but I don’t know where everything is located. At least the citizens are getting used to the changes.”
“I would recommend signs,” Timoran suggests as they pass a massive bathroom. The pools are steaming and an ocean mosaic adorns the walls, the images moving as if they are alive. “This city is truly impressive. Does it take a lot of power to maintain?”
“Honestly, I don’t feel any different,” the channeler admits while turning around and heading back the way they came. Following a strange tug on her magic, she breaks into a fast-paced walk and fights the temptation to sprint by two more of the friendly guards. “This is probably similar to what I did with Willow and Cyril. It exists on its own energy, but still has a connection to me if I need to change anything. Not that I would alter my adopted parents. Just saying that there’s no drain on my abilities. At least, nothing that I notice. I think this is the place since I created a glass ceiling here. That way I could see the sky while I work. Comfortable couches too because . . . What are you doing here?”
Queen Ionia is standing on the other side of a watery pool, the edge of the basin adorned with enchanted charms. Appearing solid at first, a shift of the sapphire moonlight makes her look transparent and she nearly vanishes completely from sight. The lavender-haired specter is dressed in a high collared dress that changes colors every few minutes. Her sleeves appear and reappear, neither style suiting her current mood. Walking through the scrying pool, Ionia greets her successor with a bow that puts her head into the floor. Straightening her skirt, the deceased ruler returns to her original position and waits for the confused champions to sit. Writing a note on unseen paper, the Caster Queen drops the message into the water and watches rainbow-colored ripples run to the edges.
“This is an illusionary message I left for you, Queen Nyx, because I knew you would take up my crown,” Ionia announces, her impish smile hinting that the activated spell is more than a simple recording. Drifting closer to the half-elf, the elegant woman’s eyes become eerie orbs of white. “It appears the crown is stuck on my body, so you will have to get a new one. Not that such a mundane object is important to this city. Although, you are actually the first ruler to be married, which will make things interesting. A line of succession has never been attempted in this place, so I will be watching to see what you and your children do. I believe I’m rambling away from my original purpose. The others will be here soon.”
“Are you going to tell me the laws and recommend advisors?” Nyx asks, unable to hide the hope in her voice. The idea of creating a council from strangers sends a nervous chill up her spine. “I don’t think I’ll be changing much. Darkmill was an amazing city. To think I could improve on it feels like an insult to you.”
The phantom shakes her head before taking a seat next to the half-elf, her presence creating a layer of frost on the couch. “That’s the message I have to deliver. Under no circumstances are you to copy me. Make this city your own, Nyx, or it will collapse beneath your feet. Yes, I know you have a battle coming and that takes precedence. Given your situation, you may use my system at the beginning, but think about changes. Create laws that work for your own vision and forge a council that you trust. They don’t even have to be from the city. Half of my advisors lived throughout Ralian and guided me on foreign affairs. The political kind, so get that joke off your lips. Don’t even think of arguing because I wasn’t created to debate. Only summon some friends, welcome you to the city, and stop you from taking the easy path. Those of us who take on this challenge should never cheat.”
“You cut corners all the time.”
“This illusion doesn’t have a response to that statement.”
“You’re not an illusion.”
“Like my real ghost would wait here for you.”
“No, but you would leave a summoning spell that activates when I created Spellstream.”
“Very nice name . . . oops.”
Nyx gets to her feet and paces around the scrying pool, her focus more on saving Luke than ruling Spellstream. She is about to continue arguing when two figures materialize out of the rippling water. Willow and Cyril stand in front of the half-elf, their robes of opposing colors making them resemble embodiments of day and night. The casters reach out to summon their staves, which they place against a nearby couch. With her attention on the couple, Nyx is caught by surprise when Casandra arrives behind her. The chocolate-haired woman taps her descendant on the shoulder, the brief contact creating veins of aura throughout the half-elf’s body. A large phoenix remains perched on the spectral channeler’s head, the bird plucking out loose feathers that sizzle as they fall.
“You’re ready to complete the ritual,” Casandra says, cutting off the others. Sensing that she is speaking out of turn, the channeler shrugs and takes a seat next to Timoran. “Nyx has plenty of time to waste with law writing and throwing boring parties. I’m sure she can create a long list of trusted advisors. Best to do it with Delvin’s help. In fact, we can leave you two alone and you can get to work on that as well as continuing my bloodline.”
“Couldn’t even make it a minute without trying to push me into breeding, huh?” Nyx teases, the expected demand more amusing than awkward. Cracking her knuckles, the champion puts her hands on the scrying pool and watches rainbow lights run along the water. “Still, Casandra does have a point. Luke comes first because Spellstream isn’t going anywhere. I’ve already asked the followers of Neberith and Zaria to be ready for my friends. The only thing I’m missing is instructions on how to complete the ritual.”
The former queen sighs and wipes her best friend’s spell from her body, the action causing her dress to turn a dull gold. “I worked very hard when I was alive, so I want to enjoy an afterlife of no responsibility. If I need to say something to get away then my advice to Nyx is to avoid my mistakes. Be a noble and hardworking ruler, but never forget to live your life. True, I definitely lived my life to the fullest when it came to having fun and traveling. Yet, I never really relaxed for more than three days. You can get bored if you do the same thing every day and you’ll find that it gets harder to challenge yourself. Not really sure where I’m going with this, but the point is probably that you need to avoid the trap of letting the pressure get to you.”
“Parenthood is a fun challenge,” Casandra mutters loud enough for Nyx to hear. A wave of her hand covers the half-elf’s scowl with an illusionary grin that glitters at the corners. “The other one listened to me, but that probably doesn’t mean anything to you. She brought a powerful little channeler into the world too. Anyway, to complete the ritual, go clean yourself up and return here with your mind focused on the task at hand. All you have to do is put Luke’s aura into the scrying pool, keep a thread connected to yourself, and reel him in. Anybody touching him will be brought along, so Dariana may want to warn the four or five people I sense are near him. No, I’m not spoiling that surprise because I’m angry about you repeatedly ignoring my request.”
“Thank you for the instructions, ancient one,” Nyx replies, smirking at the flinch of anger on Casandra’s face. The mention of a bath makes her realize how badly she smells after days of hard traveling and little rest between battles. “Time for me to act like the person in charge because events need to get moving. I’m going to clean up and come right back. Ionia can return to her fun in the afterlife since I don’t want to hold her up. Although, I will make a holiday of her birthday because I owe her a lot and it’s good to get a yearly embarrassment in on her. Delvin will be in charge of making a list of things I have to do and potential advisors. I hope that everyone else who remains will help because I trust all of you to act in my best interests. Still, Dariana will come with me, so I can talk to Delvin while I bathe. As usual, Casandra can do whatever she wants.”
“I’m not your personal communication orb,” the telepath argues before catching a vision from Nyx. The sight of the large bathing hall that her friend has designed makes her aching muscles yearn for a soak. “Then again, I think it’s the best way to prepare for the ritual and get some of your other tasks out of the way. I have sent a message to Sari that she should be ready for the ritual to start in an hour. She wants to congratulate you on becoming a queen and is looking forward to seeing the space you made for her.”
Nyx rubs her eyes and attempts to create a room for her friend, but finds that she is too distracted. She is fairly certain that the palace now has a large closet with water on the floor and candy stuck to the walls. Deciding that she will fix it later, the channeler yawns and heads for the door. Cyril appears in the young woman’s path, the towering figure looking down at his former apprentice. The caster lets a rare smile grow on his face before putting a hand on Nyx’s shoulder and leaning forward to kiss her on the head.
“Even though we are nothing more than constructs created by you, I want you to know that we are proud of you,” Cyril whispers, the caster wiping a tear from his daughter’s eye. He moves aside when Willow joins them and hugs the half-elf, her arms quivering. “This is a big challenge that you have undertaken. You were raised to be a champion and teacher, but being a queen is much more difficult. As scary as that sounds, I am confident you will succeed, especially with friends like these by your side. Spellstream will become a great power. Not only in Serab and Ralian, but throughout all of Windemere.”
“Thanks, dad. I’ll do my best.”
“Don’t forget to tell your birthparents about this too,” Willow says with a smirk.
With a groan, Nyx hugs her adopted parents and trudges into the hallway, her hand clutching her amethyst necklace. Dariana hurries to catch up and finds that the channeler is already in the midst of an argument. A mesmerizing shine runs along the enchanted jewelry, the purple gem occasionally showing hints of red and blue. The telepath is tempted to eavesdrop, but a slew of curses in various languages bombards her mind at the slightest contact.
*****
Hair still wet from her bath, Nyx kneels in front of the scrying pool and places Luke’s sabers on the rim. She slips the Ring of Uli onto her finger, the blackened leaves regaining some of their color. A team of healers are waiting in the hallway while the other champions stand a few feet behind the channeler. A cold wind comes through the open window and leaves goosebumps on Nyx’s exposed arms. The thin shift sticks to her skin due to the liquefied magic that is already bubbling out of her pores. Unlike her crimson aura, the energy is a mixture of green and yellow and smells like a forest. She can hear the four spirits stirring in their metal orbs, which fall from her body and fuse to the edge of the scrying pool. When the half-elf taps each container, they open to release threads that slither into the water and create a thin circle. The impatient spirits whisper for her to continue, but Nyx waits until her entire body is covered in Luke’s aura. Only her violet eyes can be seen through the coating that shifts between her true form and the faint silhouette of what the others assume is the forest tracker.
Sapphire moonlight pierces the glass ceiling and hits the scrying pool, the beam narrowing to the width of Nyx’s thumb. The channeler crouches to touch her toes and rises while gathering the focused aura into her hands. Her fingers run along her body, which makes her want to squirm from the tickling sensation. The magic reminds her of fresh tree sap as she pulls it off along with all of the physical markings created by the ritual. With a flash of light, Nyx’s mind goes blank and she is barely conscious of her movements. She is faintly aware of her hands molding the energy into an unfamiliar form while her ears are filled with the sound of water lapping at a shore. The magic is given the shape of a tree and four stick figures are etched into the design, which the half-elf guesses is because she is not much of an artist. Rubbing her palm around the bottom of her creation, the channeler spreads out the energy to finish making a replica of the distant island.
Placing the construct into the scrying pool, Nyx keeps her hands in the water and releases her magic in pulses. Every jolt of energy shakes the palace and threatens to throw the half-elf into the emerging portal. The four spirits become the intertwined edge of the yellow and green disc, which slowly develops a crimson core. Following her instincts, Nyx lifts the gateway out of the pool and holds it over her head. Howling winds erupt from the portal and slash at her body, the wounds healing as quickly as they are inflicted. Forming a picture of Luke in her mind, the channeler screams and smashes the glistening disc against the floor. Some shards fly to the ceiling and burst into mist while others dissolve upon impact, which creates a thick curtain of magical fog. Nyx falls to her knees as four figures materialize in the cloud, two of them prone on the floor while the others tensely crouched. Everyone holds their breath until the forms solidify to reveal a scene that is both a relief and gut-wrenching. Kira’s body is limp and pale from blood loss while Luke remains rigid, his glazed eyes unable to blink. Not wanting to be in the way, Sari hobbles out from between the injured warriors and drags Nimby behind her.
“Tend to the injured immediately!” Nyx shouts, snapping her fingers to get the healers moving. She watches as Luke’s finger twitches, the nail cycling through the versions that they would become if he transformed. “Be careful with my little brother because he has four powerful spirits inside him. Too much pressure and he can become a chimera. A
lthough, I don’t think he has the energy for that. Am I forgetting anything?”
“I will carry Luke and start with the mental repairs,” Dariana states as she gently lifts the battered forest tracker. A lump is in her throat when she notices how light her friend is and that her keen senses can barely register his whispering thoughts. “My father has done a lot of damage to his psyche. Perhaps too much for me to fix. I’m sorry, but we need to prepare ourselves for the possibility of the Luke we remember being nothing more than a memory. Still, I will do my best for his sake.”
Dariana walks carefully while two of the healers begin casting spells on Luke, his skin immediately regaining some of its color. Timoran carefully picks up Kira, the barbarian making sure to cradle her head in the crook of his arm. Fearing that moving too quickly will hurt their friends, the two champions take several minutes to get out of the room. Once they are in the hallway, the doors close with an echoing click and the window shutters fall into place. Before Nyx can throw an attack spell at Nimby, the scrying pool erupts to smack her in the back of the head. The water swirls until it becomes a wall of ice that stops the channeler from attacking the halfling. To make sure she does not try anything that could damage the castle, Delvin puts an arm around his fiancée and tries to calm her with a soothing flow of his energy. His attempt is foiled when Nyx uses the connection to share her anger, the warrior breaking contact before he is consumed by her unadulterated rage.
“There are some things you should know,” Sari states before melting the barrier. Limping over to a couch, the gypsy slumps onto her side and struggles to stay awake. “Nimby helped us get to Luke and only came back here because there was no other way off the island. He also saved our lives in Rainbow Tower. Oh, the Lich has possessed his left arm and is still as big a pain in the butt as when he had his own body. It’s a curse thing that I’m sure your old friend rightly deserves. There’s also a Lich figurine wandering around with General Vile’s spirit trapped inside. Kira and I had to do a lot of stuff that we didn’t like, but it was worth it to save Luke. Not to mention getting to see the little princess make Yola Biggs burst like a bubble.”
Ritual of the Lost Lamb Page 39
