Storm Holt (The Prophecies of Zanufey Book 3)

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Storm Holt (The Prophecies of Zanufey Book 3) Page 17

by A. Evermore


  ‘Freydel,’ he beamed. He grasped his hand, and then stared down at Arla. ‘How did she get here?’

  Freydel smiled. ‘There’s a lot to tell, we’re nearly all here.’ Navarr raised an eyebrow, nodded, and turned to greet the rest of the Wizards’ Circle.

  When his father King Thaban died, no one wanted the heir to the throne of Frayon risking his life in the Storm Holt, but the prince was adamant and no one could deny him entry when he chose to face his demons. Navarr was as impatient as he was ambitious. To say he had barely survived the Wizards’ Reckoning would be correct. But they’d all barely survived. The testing took you beyond sanity. It was up to you to return. And the prince had. And soon after became king.

  The air shimmered. Next to arrive was Master Wizard Domenon. Quiet, handsome, ambitious and untrustworthy Domenon. The man was dark-haired and bearded, and as tall as Averen and Coronos. His eyes were a strange smoky grey, and they darted everywhere taking in everyone, measuring up everyone, missing nothing. Freydel composed himself. He did not like the only other master wizard in Maioria. As far as he was concerned the man cared only for himself, and was always looking for opportunities to further his own ends at the expense of others.

  Dark within as well as without, so Freydel had always thought. He just knew Domenon begrudged all Orb Keepers, the way he looked at the orbs hungrily, clearly longing to have one in his possession. If he owned one he would be as powerful as Freydel was. Something that did not sit well with him at all. Apparently he was a wizard who came out of nowhere, long before Freydel was born, and he rose rapidly to the rank of Master Wizard. He said his parents were killed by Maphraxies after he was born, and he was just a poor scullery boy living on the streets before a kind wizard saw his skill with magic and took him in.

  One thing was clear, there was more to Domenon than was known, far more. Like Averen he never seemed to age, and had been a member of the Wizards’ Circle long before even Averen was on it. That he did not inherit the Orb of Death, or any other orb, was a huge source of anger to the dark-haired man, and possibly a wise move on behalf of the orbs previous Keepers.

  ‘Greetings, wizards and powerful men. How wonderful it is to be all together once more after so long.’ Domenon bowed low as they greeted him back. He turned to Freydel. ‘Freydel, how good it is to see you. I felt you call the Wizards’ Circle some time ago, but when there came no final confirmation in the calling I began to worry.’

  ‘Greetings, Domenon. When we’re all here I shall explain everything,’ Freydel smiled.

  Domenon frowned and took them all in. ‘All here? We are all here.’

  Domenon was the only wizard Freydel had not spoken to since Coronos had returned. Freydel’s smile deepened. The man had clearly not felt or sensed Coronos’ return, let alone contacted him.

  ‘Not all,’ Freydel said. ‘But goodness, every time I see you I’m reminded of how little you’ve aged since we first met decades ago.’ The observation was a challenge, or more a query on his strange past that no one seemed to know about.

  ‘As you well know, it’s a tribute to the Draxian and Elven blood that runs in my veins,’ the man smiled proudly.

  Freydel was suspicious. Apart from his height and agelessness, the man had nothing about him to suggest he was a Draxian or an elf. Freydel suspected age-defying magic, which always ended up being black magic. But to talk about it to the others would be to accuse and smear another member of the Circle. Something that was unacceptable unless absolute proof was discovered. And anyway, they needed peace amongst them, not more divisions.

  Master Wizard Domenon was powerful and skilled even if he was twisted wrong somewhere, and the Circle could not afford to lose a master wizard. Besides, he’d never actually done anything wrong. He watched the man take the Davono seat next to Navarr, who smiled tightly at him. Domenon had the ability to make everyone feel uncomfortable.

  The last to arrive was Coronos. Sight of the old Draxian warmed Freydel’s heart, which had been left cold by Domenon. All the wizards’ eyes went wide in shock. They laughed and got off their seats to greet him.

  ‘Coronos.’ Freydel said. He hugged the old Draxian.

  Coronos looked old, deep creases lined his face like canyons where once only crevices had been. His hair was ivory white and wispy, no longer thick and full, and his grey eyes though still clear, were filled with sorrow. Something deeply troubled the man, and as weary as he looked he had all the attributes of a tightly coiled spring.

  Coronos smiled and squeezed Freydel’s shoulder. ‘You don’t know how much it pleases me to see you all here.’ He took them all in and nodded. ‘After all this time.’

  All the wizards spoke at once.

  ‘Tell us where you’ve been?’ ‘Freydel told us you’d returned.’ ‘We thought you were dead.’ ‘What happened to you?’

  Coronos shook his head and held up his hands. ‘So much has happened… over twenty-five years. I cannot even begin to explain all. We fled Castle Draxa, just a handful of us, and we barely survived the Lost Sea. But though Feygriene was not with us when the Maphraxies took Drax, she was with us on our journey to the Uncharted Lands. The few of us that survived the journey found lands inhabited by strong, honourable people. Amongst them we thrived for twenty-five years.’ Looks of amazement and wonder spread across their faces as Coronos spoke at length of his time away - from the fall of Drax to their arrival in the Uncharted Lands, and the people they lived with for a quarter of a century.

  Freydel was well aware that no one had ever travelled to the Uncharted Lands and returned, mostly because of Keteth and the vast distance across the sea between the continents. All he’d ever heard were myths and legends of lands beyond the Lost Sea, but now he had proof of those unknown lands the world suddenly seemed a much bigger place.

  He listened enthralled as Coronos told them of his and Asaph’s life with the Kuapoh, and their treacherous return and run in with Keteth. The wizards clustered closer, and he felt his orb grow warm and hum a beautiful sound, like the low note of harp strings. The other wizards’ orbs also began to hum as if in greeting to each other. He smiled and everyone laughed, wonder mirrored in each other’s faces as the Flow moved pure and strong around them.

  ‘The orbs,’ Averen said. ‘They sing stronger than they ever have. Stronger even than when we last met with Coronos.’

  ‘The orbs sing stronger because I bring the Orb of Water with me.’ Coronos pulled from his cloak a stunning turquoise orb.

  Freydel’s eyes went wide and everyone gasped except Domenon, he couldn’t help but notice the hungry look on his face. He’d felt a shift in magic when Coronos had arrived, but was so taken up with the return of the Draxian to the Circle that he’d paid it no heed. Now he understood why the Flow moved so powerfully. The orb was strikingly beautiful and tears came into his eyes as it glimmered and sung in Coronos’ hands. He’d never seen it before except in the memory of his own orb. None of them had seen it before.

  ‘For so long this orb has been missing from the Wizards’ Circle,’ Averen breathed, speaking Freydel’s thoughts aloud. The elf frowned and shook his head. ‘Poor Wykiry.’

  ‘I’m not its Keeper. For protection Issa, to whom the Wykiry gave this orb after she finished Keteth, entrusted me as its Secondary Keeper. I don’t know why the Wykiry passed on to her the orb, surely it would be more protected under the ocean, but they have their own wisdom.’

  ‘They would have done it with good reason,’ Freydel nodded thoughtfully. ‘And what a gift to the Circle it is.’

  ‘I think they may have wanted to return it to the people of the land. Maybe even for it to be with the other orbs,’ Averen said. Freydel considered that. The elf was probably right, the reasons to give it to Issa would be many fold. It also made her very powerful, and he was pleased about that, she needed all the strength she could get. But he wasn’t sure if she was the right person to be an orb keeper.

  Coronos grasped the elf’s hand. ‘Averen, you’ve not cha
nged in all the long years I’ve been away. Nor you, Domenon,’ the Draxian turned to shake the Davonian wizard’s hand. ‘But you.’ Coronos gripped King Navarr’s hand. ‘You certainly have changed from a boy into a man - and congratulations, I never thought I’d have the fortune to be with you on the Wizards’ Circle. I’m deeply sorry about your father. He was a dear friend of mine.’

  ‘I know, Coronos. He passed peacefully,’ Navarr said and nodded to reassure. Freydel looked at the ground, King Thaban had been a good friend of everyone.

  Coronos smiled. ‘I’d hoped to see him again, goddess rest his soul. I’m looking forward to chatting with you before a good fire and a nice bottle of wine. We were in Corsolon, and told the mayor to send carrier birds warning of Maphraxies on the West Coast. Something we must all talk about urgently. We’re on our way to you right now, and travel the road between Corsolon and Carvon.’

  ‘We’ve heard rumours of Maphraxies but received no official warning yet. I’ll send riders to the coast, and inform the Feylint Halanoi immediately. You are always welcome at my court, Coronos Dragon Rider.’ King Navarr addressed him formally, making the old Draxian smile. ‘Everything that you left with my father is still locked away in the vault untouched. When will you arrive?’

  ‘Thank you, that is comforting news,’ Coronos said. ‘Hopefully in a day or so.’

  ‘There is much we all have to discuss,’ Freydel chimed in, ‘especially about the enemy drawing near. Let us place the orbs and be seated so we may talk in turn about all that is important, and why I called the Wizards’ Circle.

  ‘The orbs sing louder for I too bring an orb not seen in the circle for a long time,’ Drumblodd piped up just as everyone turned to their seats. The wizards hesitated and stared at him as he drew out the Orb of Fire.

  ‘You bring the Orb of Fire?’ Freydel said. He actually felt faint with elation, that and the powerful magic coming from all the orbs. The wizards clustered close again to look at the flaring orb in Drumblodd’s thick-fingered hand. It looked like a ball of flowing lava and flared the colours of fire; orange, yellow and red. It flashed red several times as if it was communicating with the other orbs.

  Drumblodd nodded. ‘I bring it with me, finally, to its rightful home. I never agreed with Obearn’s hiding it away. As you know he named me Secondary Keeper before he died, but then he passed away without telling me where it was. I’d been the Orb of Fire’s Secondary Keeper for nigh on thirty-five years. After years of searching, we found it deep in a vaulted molten chamber.’

  Freydel nodded. ‘Obearn’s ways were always… difficult. Keeping the orb from the Circle, as he kept himself away, was the source of many disputes amongst us, but we could not force the issue. We are just lucky it is with us and not with Baelthrom. But anyway, four orbs together in our possession, this really is a cause for celebration. Now the shield will be impenetrable.’ He looked at the subtle transparent rim of the shield surrounding the Wizards’ Tower, like a huge bubble around them, its edges visible every now and then. He began to relax. He’d felt pensive ever since calling the Circle.

  One by one the wizards placed the orbs in the six indents hollowed out in the stone at the centre of the Circle. Seeing the blue of the water orb contrasted with the red of its sister the fire orb warmed Freydel’s soul. From the smiles of the other members, even Domenon, he knew they felt the same.

  ‘If only the elves would bring to us the Orb of Earth rather than hiding it and themselves away in the Land of Mists,’ Averen sighed. There was sadness suddenly etched in his smooth features.

  ‘At least the orb is not in his hands,’ Freydel said. The only orb truly lost to them, and a major hole in their power, was the Orb of Life. You may have stolen the Orb of Life, and by doing so kept us all in chains, but you have not, after thousands of years, managed to steal the others from us, Baelthrom.

  They all took their seats. Freydel’s heart went out to Coronos as he watched the older man lean heavily on his staff and take the northern seat of Draxa. He sat in it wearily and wiped a hand across his brow. Coronos was wise and learned, but always remained a novice wizard. Still he had power beyond his own skill because he held the Orb of Air, and more so now that he was Secondary Keeper to the Orb of Water.

  He dropped his eyes to the orbs, black, white, blue and red. These past few days he’d learned more about his orb than he had in a lifetime of studying it. He was already the most powerful wizard here, and yet he’d unlocked more power within his orb and within himself, and there was still more to learn.

  Perhaps he should be the Orb of Water’s Primary Keeper now. He was strong enough to hold two. It would certainly be the safest thing for it. Issa could not take the burden of looking after it upon herself as well as everything else. He’d have to think about how best to broach the topic with the other wizards. For now there was a more pressing issue at hand, and he didn’t look forward to discussing it.

  ‘Four orbs and eight members of the Wizards’ Circle now together, where once we would have been six and twelve,’ Freydel said ceremoniously. A hushed silence fell upon them and he swallowed. ‘My friends and fellow wizards, I have some terrible news. I dread to inform you that Celene has fallen.’

  Chapter 21

  Maggot

  A deafening roar shook the ground and walls of the demon hall within the rocks and earth of Eastern Middle Murk. All of the Shadow Demons gathered there cowered back from their rage-filled king. Even the wings on Maggot’s back trembled with the sound.

  The crystal shard dimmed and darkness fell upon the hall. King Gedrock’s roar seemed to echo for hours. Stillness crept forwards and eventually silence descended upon the shaken demons who stood unmoving. Fearful eyes glowed red as they looked at each other, all wondering what horrific things the king had witnessed in the crystal shard to make him howl. Maggot pulled on his ears and twitched.

  Gedrock’s eyes flashed, wild with rage and fear. A green ray of Zorock’s light pierced through the highest round opening into the cave, illuminating the underground hall and the huge gathering of Shadow Demons. The king gave a look of pure shock and horror - a look so unnatural on any demon’s face. Unrest like a cancer spread through the crowd. Maggot was afraid.

  ‘The raven did not lie. Our end, the end of the Murk, is coming. I have seen it in the chrystal shard.’ As the king of the Shadow Demons spoke, more of Zorock’s green light fell in through the opening, by design cleverly illuminating the great stone chair upon which King Gedrock sat.

  Maggot cowered and shivered. He had heard about the awful raven that had come from the higherworld foretelling their king of their doom. Gedrock continued, his deep voice rasping and constrained.

  ‘But more than that, the Demon Slayer returns, and with him his Banished Legion,’ veins bulged on Gedrock’s neck as he spoke. He dropped his hands from the jagged crystal embedded in the waist high stone before his throne. It was supposedly taken from the crystal caverns beneath Carmedrak Rock when the Shadow Demons fled thousands of years ago. The crystal shard pulsed green in Zorock’s light, reflecting the moon of the Murk even as the moonlight cleansed and charged it.

  The hall was the busiest Maggot had ever seen it, and like every other Shadow Demon here he bustled close to see their king. The demons shuffled nervously, but not one of them dared utter a sound. Usually they’d all be chattering when great gatherings such as these took place. The gathering had been called because of the king’s vision, and they had all felt it - something bad had happened. Something terrible to cause such a disturbance in the energy of the Murk. It seemed to be coming from that awful bright place above, the higherworld called Maioria where extremely dangerous, but very tasty beings resided.

  The larger demons in front of Maggot shuffled forwards and blocked his view so he had to squeeze between their legs and wiggle closer to see the throne. Whilst the tallest demons in the room reached up to eight foot high, Maggot was barely two feet tall, and numbered amongst the smallest of the lesser demons. King Ged
rock rubbed his face with a clawed veiny hand. Maggot shivered again as the fear in the room slithered over him, a horrid alien feeling.

  ‘Our mortal enemy can only have returned for one thing, to claim the spear and destroy us utterly.’ Gedrock’s muscles bulged on his arms as he clenched his fists and hunkered back in his great chair. Sweat gleamed on his grey skin and all over his bald scalp little veins stood up. The demons around him whispered and shuffled.

  ‘The crystal shard does not lie. Even as our destroyer returns, our own kin are turning upon us, led by one that is not even our own. The Grazen and the greater demons are organising themselves. As I speak they are preparing to attack us, to wipe us out completely, so that the greater demons can take all. But we will never submit ourselves to that demon-human half breed, Karhlusus.’ Some Shadow Demons howled out in agreement, whilst others shook their heads with worry. They all were in agreement in their hatred of the demonic wizard Karhlusus.

  ‘The greater demons want nothing more than to take our home, the Murk. They have already enslaved our kin, the Grazen, and they will not stop until we are all slaves to them. Our troubles are dire and they are many.’ Gedrock’s eyes turned hard as he surveyed the Shadow Demons standing before him, all looking to him, their king, to lead them, to protect them.

  Maggot caught the king’s gaze and dropped his eyes to the floor. His king was awesome but also scary. After a moment he peeked a look. Gedrock’s eyes had returned to the glowing crystal. It made him shine green too, making him seem even more so their great king. He leaned upon one hand and scowled in thought. The crystal shard pulsed and the Shadow Demons clustered around him even closer, wondering what it was their king would see, for only the king of the demons could access the crystal shard. Gedrock’s eyes gazed far into other planes.

 

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