Vosper's Revenge

by Kristian Alva

  Elias put his hand up to his mouth to stifle a yawn. “That’s enough for tonight. Go get some sleep,” said Chua. “You’ll need your strength to finish the healing.”

  Elias yawned again. “I suppose you’re right.”

  Elias went down to check on Sela, who was sleeping. Brinsop lay close by, also sound asleep. Islar lay curled up in a nearby corner, snoring softly.

  Sela’s dislocated shoulder looked even worse than before. Elias touched the grossly swollen joint, and she groaned softly. There was still so much to do. Unfortunately, it would have to wait until tomorrow. He comforted himself with the knowledge that Sela would survive her ordeal.

  A few minutes later, Elias came back up to the grove and settled down next to Nydeired, who was waiting for him at the edge of the clearing. Nydeired was too large to enter the Elder Willow, so he and Elias slept together outside. Elias crawled on top of Nydeired’s curled tail and covered himself with a wool blanket.

  The first night, the tree sprites had buzzed around them constantly, not allowing them to sleep. Eventually, though, they lost interest. Now the sprites ignored them, and Elias was able to sleep peacefully under the stars.

  I’ve enjoyed my time here, said Nydeired. Spending time with Starclaw has been very enlightening.

  “I’m glad,” said Elias. “I feel more comfortable here than I’ve felt anywhere in a long time. It feels like home.”

  I like it, too. The woods are vast, and there’s much to explore. I would like to try some hunting tomorrow. How is Sela?

  “I won’t know the extent of the damage for a while. She’s lost sight in one eye, and her shoulder is in bad shape. The worst of all were the burns. I’ve healed lots of regular burns, but hers were caused by a necromancer’s flame. The scars will remain on her face and body forever. She’ll never look the same again.”

  At least she’s alive, said Nydeired. You saved her.

  “I know,” said Elias. “When Chua told me that Sela was dying, I panicked. But when I actually saw her, all my fear melted away. I knew exactly what I had to do. Healing just comes naturally. For the first time in my life, I know what I want to do. I don’t want to fight—I want to be a healer.”

  But what about the prophesy? asked Nydeired.

  Elias shrugged. “I’m not sure what’s going to happen, but I’m going to follow Chua’s advice. I’ll just trust my instincts. Sometimes the best way to defeat your fears is simply to have faith in yourself.” Elias smiled and closed his eyes, and was soon fast asleep.

  The next day, Elias woke up early, feeling more refreshed. He went to Sela’s side and was able to heal the rest of her wounds. She did not stir and remained unconscious that day and the next. On the fourth day, she regained consciousness only briefly. She drank water but did not eat.

  Elias followed the same routine for the next few days. He and Nydeired awoke at dawn. After Elias checked on Sela, they went to a nearby stream to drink and wash. Nydeired dipped his tail in the water and splashed Elias playfully. Elias howled, arching his back as the cold water hit his shoulders.

  Elias splashed back, and they were so engrossed in their play that they didn’t even notice Rali and Aor’s arrival on horseback.

  “Hey, you two!” said Elias, waving. The tree sprites buzzed dangerously around these new intruders, and Elias made a swift gesture in the air to ward them off.

  “Thanks,” said Rali. “The buzzing sound from those little creatures was giving me a headache.”

  “It’s a defensive mechanism,” said Elias. “The sprites guard this place. Chua taught me a spell to keep them at bay. As long as you’re not doing any harm to the grove, they’ll leave you alone.”

  “How’s my mother?” asked Rali, worry in his voice.

  Elias quickly described Sela’s current condition. Rali gave a deep sigh of relief. Rali then told Elias the sad news of Thorin and Floki’s death.

  Elias’ eyes misted over with tears. “I didn’t know. This saddens me greatly. He was a good friend. What happened in Ironport?”

  “It was a trap,” said Rali. “Vosper knows about everything, including Islar’s desertion and betrayal. The emperor allowed Islar to leave Morholt, hoping that he would lead him to Sela, or you. Without Thorin’s intervention, Sela and Islar would be dead. Thorin died a hero.”

  “Were they able to give Thorin a proper burial, at least?”

  “Yes,” said Rali. “King Hergung sent out a search party and was able to retrieve the bodies. Hergung honored Thorin with a royal funeral.”

  “That’s good,” said Elias, but it didn’t make him feel any better. “I wish I’d had the chance to say goodbye.”

  Rali put his hand comfortingly on Elias’ shoulder. Elias looked up and saw sympathy in the Rali’s eyes. Elias recalled the first time he had met the young king—it was over a year ago in Miklagard, where he had assumed that Rali was merely a steward. Since then, everything had changed. Rali had been crowned king, and his youthful appearance was gone. He had matured into a compassionate, shrewd leader.

  The young men locked eyes, and a silent understanding passed between them. Rali and Elias had enormous responsibilities thrust upon them at a young age, and both had been forced to grow up very quickly. How things had changed for both of them.

  Islar and Chua appeared. Brief introductions were made, and Rali began questioning Islar. “Tell me everything you remember. Even minor details are important, so don’t leave anything out.”

  Islar recounted the events slowly, from the day that he and Floki escaped Morholt, to the ambush inside Ironport, and finally, the battle outside the city.

  “I knew I wasn’t strong enough to battle one necromancer on my own, much less two of them. But I remembered that they’re afraid of leeches. I found some in a nearby creek and threw the leeches on the necromancers. They stopped attacking—the effect was immediate.”

  “How did you know it would work?” asked Rali suspiciously.

  “To be honest, I didn’t. It was just a hunch. After the necromancers collapsed, I just grabbed Sela and jumped on Brinsop’s back. I held on for dear life, and a few days later, we ended up here.”

  “While I was still at Mount Velik, Tallin received a brief telepathic message from Sela,” said Rali. “Did she regain consciousness during the journey?”

  “Yes, a few times, but only briefly,” said Islar. “She was in a lot of pain. The first time she attempted the telepathic communication and failed. I tried to help her as much as I could, but I’m not a strong telepath.”

  “Neither is Sela,” said Rali. “I’m surprised that she was able to contact anyone at all.”

  “Me too, considering the severity of her injuries,” said Islar. “But she’s as strong-willed as anyone I’ve ever met. I’ve never seen a spellcaster so fearless. Sela faced those two necromancers alone and still managed to survive. I doubt I would have been able to do the same.”

  Rali looked away. “If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to see my mother.”

  “Of course,” said Elias, directing him to the opening. “Just follow the narrow path inside the tree. It will take you to a lighted chamber. Sela is resting inside.”

  “Thank you.” Rali produced a finger-flame to light his way and disappeared underground. A few minutes later, Rali returned to the clearing, visibly shaken.

  “She’s unconscious,” said Rali. “Honestly, I’m glad I didn’t see her when she first arrived. She’s covered from head to toe with scars. Seeing my mother like this is bad enough.”

  “The scars are bad, I know, but she will recover,” said Elias. “

  “Is there anything else you can do?” asked Rali.

  “No, not really. Her body needs time to heal itself. She has a long convalescence ahead of her.”

  “She won’t be able to help us against Vosper then,” said Rali. It wasn’t really a question. It was a statement.

  “No. She’s not in any shape to fight. Not anytime soon. She’s lucky to be alive.”

&n
bsp; “What are we going to do?” asked Rali. “How are we going to have a chance against Vosper without Sela?”

  Chua spoke up for the first time. “You’re her son. You could take her place.”

  “What do you mean?” said Rali. “I’m not a dragon rider. How could I take her place?”

  “You are mageborn,” said Chua. “Granted, your powers aren’t as strong as your mother’s, but you could still do it. The same way Elias carries my dragon stone and communicates with Nydeired, you could carry Sela’s stone and communicate with Brinsop.”

  “He’s right,” said Elias. “It won’t be a true pairing, but if Brinsop agrees, you could act as her temporary rider. It could work.”

  “No, no…” said Rali, shaking his head. “I’m only a second-degree mage. What good would I be in battle?”

  “We all started out without any experience,” said Elias. “You’ve had years of magical training at Miklagard, and lots of practice using your powers.”

  “But I have no training as a dragon rider,” said Rali.

  “Start now,” said Chua. “There are two dragon riders right in front of you. We could train you.”

  Rali still looked unconvinced, but he wasn’t protesting as loudly as before.

  “At least consider it,” said Elias.

  “Maybe you’re right,” said Rali. “We need all the help we can get. We can’t afford to lose any of the dragon riders.”

  Suddenly, there was a flash in the sky. It was Sisren, riding Charlight!

  “Hello, everyone! I’m glad you feel that way, because I’ve brought another dragon rider with me,” she said, materializing suddenly after dropping her concealment spell.

  Elias couldn’t believe it. Sisren had arrived on Charlight’s back. Charlight—the dragon who had betrayed her own kind. And there, seated behind Sisren, was Hanko.

  The traitor.

  The Counterattack

  Back in Parthos, the elves grew restless. Though Rali’s guards were always respectful, none of the elves could tolerate the current situation any longer. Taking orders from Rali’s honor guard was galling. The three elves gathered on the palace rooftop after sunset to discuss their plans.

  “We’re wasting our time in this place,” said Fëanor, the youngest of the three. “It’s time for us to leave.”

  “I agree,” said Amandila. “The orc attack last year was a failure. Vosper isn’t going to attempt another attack on this city—at least not yet. I agree with Fëanor. We must leave Parthos and go east.”

  Carnesîr’s jaw clenched. He wasn’t ready to admit he was wrong. “It’s possible that the orcs will attack again from the north, or the Balborites from the west.”

  “Not bloody likely,” snorted Fëanor derisively. “The orcs were decimated in last year’s attack, and King Nar hasn’t been seen in months. In fact, it’s likely that Nar is dead. As for the Balborites, why would they send an assassin here now? All the riders are gone, and so is their child-king Rali. The Balborites don’t care about conquering cities. Their glory is killing specific targets. They could care less about Parthos, or Morholt, for that matter.”

  “Are you questioning my authority?” said Carnesîr.

  “No, I’m not questioning your authority. I’m questioning your judgment!” said Fëanor.

  “You’re nothing but an insolent youngling!” said Carnesîr, his jaw clenched He and Fëanor faced off.

  Amandila stepped forward and placed herself between them. “Please! Stop this bickering. There’s an easy solution to all of this. There are three of us. Together we’re strong enough for a scrying circle. We can stop guessing: let’s find out what’s really happening across the continent.”

  Fëanor nodded. “It’s a good idea.”

  “No,” said Carnesîr, shaking his head. “It’s too risky. A scrying spell like that will weaken us for several days.”

  “Can you think of a better solution?” said Amandila.

  Carnesîr frowned. He could tell he wasn’t going to win this argument. “Fine,” he said. “Prepare yourselves; we will smoke-scry at midnight. I will gather the necessary herbs.” Scrying with smoke was extremely demanding on the operator, but it provided the most accurate visions. This was especially true if one wanted to observe people who didn’t want to be watched.

  Just before midnight, everyone but the three elves and their dragons were ordered off the palace rooftop. Fëanor gathered several bolts of firewood and placed them in a star pattern on the floor. Carnesîr then laced the wood with herbs that would intensify the spell’s effectiveness.

  “Incêndio!” said Carnesîr, and the wood burst into flames. The elves sat down cross-legged in a circle around the fire. Their dragons took their places behind them; they would all participate in the conjuring. Once the fire started producing enough smoke, Carnesîr recited the incantation that would reveal what they wanted to see. “Stjarna-heimtail-draumr.”

  The column of smoke grew higher, and hazy images materialized. At first, the faces were blurry—unrecognizable. Slowly, the images sharpened. It was Morholt. Hundreds of soldiers worked frantically outside the city walls, stacking supplies and weapons. The scene changed, and now the soldiers stood at the bank of the Orvasse River, loading barges with supplies.

  “Vosper’s troops are mobilizing for war,” said Fëanor. “If they’re moving up the Orvasse River, then their target is either Mount Velik or Miklagard.”

  The vision changed again. This time, they could see the throne room of the emperor’s palace. Vosper’s body was turned away from them. He was speaking to his guards. The men nodded occasionally, but otherwise said nothing. Vosper raised his arm, and his sleeve fell away, revealing the emperor’s black fingernails and pallid skin.

  “Look at his hands!” Amandila gasped. “He did it! He took the oath! He’s a necromancer!”

  The elves continued to watch, horrified. Then, slowly, Vosper turned his head, looking behind him. Vosper stared, as if he knew someone was watching.

  “Carnesîr… look at his expression—is it possible that he can see us?” Fëanor said.

  “Impossible,” said Carnesîr. “This spell is elvish—my incantation was perfect. He can’t see us.”

  But just then, Vosper raised one glowing finger and mouthed a silent curse. Carnesîr’s face blanched. “No! End the spell! End the spell!” he shouted, but it was too late.

  The fire exploded, sending fragments of rock and burning wood in a million directions. None of the elves were able to raise shields in time and were struck senseless by the force of the blast. The stunned elves lay prostrate on the ground.

  Fëanor propped himself up on his elbows and shook his head. “By the gods…you were wrong again, Carnesîr,” said Fëanor.

  Carnesîr also tried to rise, but stumbled, falling back down to one knee. He ignored Fëanor’s remark. “Check on Amandila. She’s unconscious.”

  Nagendra had turned Amandila over and was shaking her softly. A bleeding gash ran down the elf’s right cheek. Fëanor crawled over to Amandila and slapped her cheek lightly. “Amandila—are you all right? Wake up.”

  The female elf groaned softly and sat up. She had a dazed expression in her eyes. “What happened?”

  “It appears that the emperor could see us,” Fëanor said with a sneer. “Vosper turned our own spell against us.”

  “But how is that possible? How could the emperor sense our presence?” asked Amandila.

  “I don’t know,” said Carnesîr. “He shouldn’t have been able to. Mortals can’t sense elvish scrying spells. He shouldn’t have been able to counterattack at such a vast distance.”

  “Vosper isn’t mortal. Not anymore,” said Fëanor through clenched teeth.

  “What does this mean?” said Amandila.

  “It means that Vosper is the strongest necromancer in a millennium,” said Fëanor. “We must notify our queen.”

  “Vosper’s troops are preparing for battle,” said Amandila. “They’ll probably attack Mount Velik.
Their barges will arrive in Ironport in a matter of days.”

  “I know,” said Carnesîr. “We’ll leave Parthos and go to Mount Velik to aid in the dwarves’ defense, as we did during the Dragon Wars.”

  “What about the other dragon riders? Tallin, Sela, and the rest?” said Amandila.

  “They’ll find out soon enough,” said Carnesîr. The elf’s extreme dislike for Tallin prevented him from even saying the rider’s name. “Let them discover the information on their own.”

  Carnesîr contacted the elf queen, Xiiltharra, with the news of Vosper’s condition and the impending attack on Mount Velik. After the queen’s initial surprise, she agreed that Carnesîr and the others should go to Mount Velik. When it was over, Carnesîr inhaled deeply, leaning on a nearby wall. Carnesîr caught Fëanor staring at him, and he straightened up immediately, smoothing his tunic.

  Fëanor ignored Carnesîr’s orders and contacted Mount Velik. After a while, he found Tallin.

  “Tallin, I have an urgent message for Hergung,” said Fëanor.

  Tallin stiffened, feeling the touch of the elf’s alien mind. “Fëanor?”

  “Yes, it is I. Vosper has taken the Necromancer’s Oath. He’s now one of the undead,” said Fëanor. “He’s loading barges with supplies and men. His armies could arrive on your doorstep any day. Tell Hergung to prepare for war.”

  Tallin accepted the information calmly. “Thank you. Is that all you wanted to say?”

  “Yes,” said Fëanor, slightly taken aback by Tallin’s politeness. “Let Hergung know that Carnesîr, Amandila, and I will be coming to your mountain by dragonflight. We’ll arrive before the next full moon.”

  “I’ll tell Hergung to expect you,” he said, abruptly ending their communication.

  After their messages had been sent, the elves gathered again. “We should wait a day before leaving,” said Carnesîr, “so we can gather our strength for the long flight. Vosper’s attack took a lot out of us.”

  “Speak for yourself, Carnesîr. I’m strong enough to travel now,” said Fëanor. “We’ve wasted too much time here already. I say that we leave for Mount Velik immediately.”