Storm Holt (The Prophecies of Zanufey Book 3)

by A. Evermore

  ‘Cormak, here,’ Marakon howled.

  The knight looked up, saw him, and headed forwards. Together they met with the four Maphraxies between them. Metal scoured against metal in a clash. Cormak felled the one with his back to him whilst Marakon took on the largest that had seen him coming. This one was big, a foot taller than the others, and armed with a short sword as wide as his head.

  Marakon side-stepped his horse and eyed it up more cautiously. Most Maphraxies were dumb but strong and violent, so they were armed with simple weapons like clubs and maces that required only brute force to wield. That it could wield a sword was a surprise. Only Dromoorai had swords, massive two-handed claymores. Baelthrom’s horde were getting smarter, he thought grimly.

  Marakon swiped his sword at it in a test swing. It fell back dodging his blade easily. Interesting. Then the Maphraxie lunged with incredible speed. Marakon reared his horse back and took the devastating blow full on his buckler, the force of it juddered his arm and shocked his body for a moment.

  A moment too long, for that black iron short sword was already on its way down. He flung himself forwards, barely staying mounted as he dodged the blow that glanced off his horse’s armour. He sprang back up, stabbed, ducked and stabbed again, fast as an elf, and finally sinking his sword in deep. The Maphraxie howled and thrashed madly as it fell to the cobbles. Without hesitating he wrenched his sword free, and stabbed the neck of the Maphraxie trying to unhorse Cormak. It fell without a sound. The two men sat back panting.

  ‘The horses are a hindrance in these close quarters,’ the dwarf gasped.

  Marakon nodded. ‘I need to get to my wife, but you must help the people. Help free the children. Get the other knights together. We cannot risk being taken alive.’

  Cormak nodded. ‘Goddess protect you,’ he turned his horse around, and shouted for the other knights.

  Marakon whirled away at a gallop. Rasia, I pray you and the boys are safe.

  Chapter 24

  Seat Of A Lost Land

  ‘THE Wykiry came for Issa, they protect her,’ Coronos said.

  ‘She said the Wykiry brought her to Celene,’ Freydel nodded. He gasped then as if remembering something. ‘In the orb I saw a golden dragon.’

  Coronos held the master wizard’s eyes for a long moment, struggling with indecision. He couldn’t keep Asaph’s identity secret, not from the most learned men and powerful protectors of Maioria.

  ‘What is it, Coronos?’ Freydel asked, and all eyes looked at him, ‘You are safe to speak your truth here, we are all under oath that nothing leaves the safety of the Circle.’

  Coronos released a long held breath. ‘Yes, you are right, and I should not keep secrets from the Circle. My adopted son Asaph, is the son of Queen Pheonis and King Ixus of Drax, and he is a Dragon Lord. The last.’

  Domenon snorted and Coronos glimpsed a peculiar look of disgust on the man’s face before he smoothed it over. Domenon said nothing however, and returned his gaze back to the orbs.

  ‘I’m stunned,’ Freydel said. ‘And I thought this would all be about Celene and Issa. So, then, that is why I saw a dragon in the orb when all the dragons are gone.’

  Coronos shook his head. ‘The dragons are not gone, not all. They’re sleeping, Asaph has felt them. It is hard for him, there is no other Dragon Lord to train him. We have kept his identity and his gift secret all his life, but it will not remain so for long.

  ‘Baelthrom will hunt him now just as he hunts Issa. He will not let the heir to the throne of Drax live to stir up rebellion, and not a Dragon Lord at that either. His Maphraxies already hunt us. Issa holds a power I don’t understand - but I agree that it is linked to the blue moon. Soon after the attacks the raven came to her and told her of Celene. We left that same hour on the back of a dragon.

  ‘I’m sorry Freydel, we were too late. All we found on Celene was utter destruction… and the body of my daughter. Celene was burning barren ruin and all the people dead or captured. When we reached the destroyed Temple of Celene on the eastern side, the harpies attacked us. I’ve never seen anything like it. We were outnumbered, but Issa called the ravens, so many I could not count them. They drove back the harpies until they fled.

  ‘When I saw that, I knew she was the Raven Queen of prophecy. For one night we tended our wounds, and in the early hours of dawn the land itself began to quake and tear itself apart. Asaph carried us away, and the last I saw of Celene was molten rock and fire as it crumbled into the sea. I wonder how much of it is left. Perhaps the goddess herself destroyed it because it was no longer pure.’ Coronos finished and stared into his lap feeling numb.

  ‘It’s all gone…’ Freydel whispered, not realising he spoke aloud as he answered Coronos’ question. The silence that descended upon the wizard’s circle was palpable. His eyes drifted over the empty stone seats, and rested on the Ancient’s chair.

  ‘Celene is gone. Sharing the same fate as the land of the Ancients. Another land to count along the lost… Tusarza, Venosia, Drax. Now I sit upon a seat whose land is no longer there.’

  ‘We all long for a time when peace reins throughout all Maioria,’ Averen said.

  ‘Am I to believe hope for peace is purely the iconic ambition of the young, and the forgotten dreams of old men?’ Freydel said.

  ‘We must be content with each day and grateful for what we do have, rather than dwell upon the things that cannot be.’ Drumblodd’s voice was gruff as he stared at the broken seat of Tusarza.

  For a moment Freydel forgot why he was here, what the point of it all was. For all his power and knowledge, what had he really achieved? If he could not save Celene, or Ely, or even warn her people, what use was such power? He wiped a hand across his brow and looked out towards the glittering ocean. The beauty of the land reminded him of Celene, and for a moment he loathed it.

  ‘The Immortal Lord takes all.’ Averen’s melodic voice drifted over them, unshed tears glistening in his eyes. ‘Another land is lost as his noose tightens around us. We must all ask; “What are we to do?” More will be lost before our end draws near. Fear will only make us hesitant and dim our senses. Frayon will undoubtedly be our last stronghold. Perhaps a Dragon Lord and a Raven Queen can be a light to spark hope in the hearts of the people. In our hearts.’

  ‘I know nothing of the power of this dark moon, but it flows through her like magic flows through the orbs.’ Freydel forced himself to speak to bring him back to the world. ‘So you see, gentlemen. I’m not alone in my thoughts, Coronos too has born witness to the power she holds.’

  ‘If this woman is who you say she is, the Raven Queen of prophecy, then we must see her in the flesh and decide for ourselves,’ Domenon said, a sceptical look on his face. The others murmured agreement. ‘Perhaps having a female on the Circle would be a beneficial thing for us all. Some female company would be nice here for a change,’ he smiled. The wizards shifted uncomfortably.

  ‘Yes, you should all meet her, as I have proposed,’ Freydel said. He agreed with Domenon, even though he didn’t like agreeing with anything the man said. ‘But what are you suggesting, Domenon? Only a wizard who has passed The Reckoning can sit upon the Circle. We all know how many women have entered the Storm Holt and died never to return. That is why we put a stop to it.’

  Domenon merely raised his eyebrows. ‘Well, if she is so powerful how could she fail? Are you afraid of women on the Circle, Master Freydel?’ he said the last with the hint of a sneer. Freydel was irritated, wondering if it was deliberate or just the way he spoke.

  ‘Of course not. It’s been so long, I’d be concerned to risk it. The Storm Holt that is,’ he snapped, his emotions were fraying. He knew it would eventually come to this. It was only a logical progression of the conversation between the wizards - to suggest one powerful in magic be tested in the Storm Holt. It was a conclusion Freydel dreaded. He didn’t want to put the girl’s life in danger again. She is a woman, he corrected himself. He tugged on his beard.

  ‘We lost so many women
in the Storm Holt, even in our lifetimes,’ Haelgon shook his head. Drumblodd closed his eyes with a sigh.

  ‘But if she is the one of prophecy…’ Navarr began, ‘Domenon does have a point.’

  Freydel shook his head. Now Domenon has got Navarr thinking his thoughts. ‘I’ll not agree to put her through another dire test.’

  He felt guilty, that was it. He felt tricked by Cirosa in some way to send Issa to her death against Keteth. It had tested his faith in the prophecies and the goddess herself to its limits. The worry and guilt for her had made him sick. Who knows how long Cirosa had been communing with the enemy. Perhaps it was all by design to get rid of Issa from the start. He couldn’t agree to endanger her life like that again.

  ‘But she did survive, Freydel,’ Averen smiled. ‘And much more than that, she destroyed Keteth. If Zanufey protects the Raven Queen, as surely she must, then what are you afraid of? Surviving the Storm Holt gives one so much control over their talents no matter what their ability, and not to mention a deep inner strength that no experience in the normal world could ever give us.’

  ‘He’s right,’ Luren and Drumblodd agreed simultaneously.

  ‘There is no way on Maioria I could have faced Keteth and survived, and yet I survived the Storm Holt,’ Navarr said. ‘And I’m no master wizard.’

  Freydel rubbed his chin as he took in those before him. Clearly seeing Freydel’s anxiety, Haelgon spoke.

  ‘There is nothing to fear, Freydel, we all have the girl’s safety at the forefront of minds. If she is strong enough to slay Keteth, then she will pass the Wizard’s Reckoning. If she does that then she should be here amongst us upon the Wizards’ Circle. ‘

  Averen agreed. ‘That is what the Circle is supposed to be, the most adept magic wielders brought together for the greater protection of the orbs and Maioria, and for the sharing of knowledge and the advancement of our skills. All those things regardless of gender or race.’

  ‘She must take the test which we all have taken-’ Luren piped up but then went silent when Freydel gave him a look.

  The young man was so impressionable, and Domenon made sure he had his impression upon him. This whole thing was Domenon’s suggestion anyway. It was going from bad to worse. Merely a suggested idea was now becoming reality. The thought of Issa entering the Storm Holt made the blood drain from his face. A memory forced itself upon him, only a glimpse of a still picture that broke him out in an instant sweat.

  His parents stood there in the kitchen of his childhood home. The wooden beams of their ceiling, the hob with something always cooking upon it and smelling divine, the warm fire in the hearth - it was all exactly as it had been when he was a child. Only something was horribly wrong with this fond childhood memory. Now his parents held long sharp knives. Blood smeared the walls, the hob, the chairs, the floor. He didn’t know whose blood it was in his child’s mind, but he remembered the terror as he looked up into their smiling faces and all-black eyes. They came towards him and he had screamed.

  The memory released its grip and he wiped the sweat from his forehead. It was not a real memory, at least not one that really came from his childhood. It was a memory of his time within the Storm Holt. There he re-experienced many things he’d already experienced in his life, only this time they were distorted and sick, a horrific demonic replay of his otherwise happy life. Now many of his happier memories were tainted. Real memories of true events overshadowed by his re-experiences in the Storm Holt, leaving them impure in his mind.

  He’d nearly died in there and the experience taught him that perhaps he was not as powerful as he wanted to be. Doubt was a far deeper and lasting wound than any bodily scar. Poisonous doubt in his own power and own abilities, that his magic might fail him at any moment, just like it had failed him in the Storm Holt. He knew from their silence that the other wizards had been maimed in some way by the Reckoning - physically, mentally, and emotionally.

  ‘Are you all right, Freydel?’

  Freydel looked into Drumblodd’s eyes and saw understanding there. Drumblodd carried the scars from the Storm Holt on his cheeks. Several white lines marred his face, making him look meaner than he really was. It had taken three of them to drag his kicking and screaming bloody body away from the gate. It had taken a week for him to walk and another week before he would speak again. He’d never talked about what had happened though, never uttered a word. None of them did.

  ‘Yes, I’m fine,’ Freydel nodded.

  Averen was the only other who had visible signs of his maiming, he’d lost the last two fingers on his left hand. Of those who entered, less than half returned. No one knew what happened to the others, perhaps they remained in the demon worlds, living out their own torturous nightmare. He prayed they died swiftly in there.

  ‘Entering the Storm Holt to prove her strength is not necessary. Slaying Keteth is proof enough,’ Freydel said firmly.

  ‘If she did kill the White Beast,’ Domenon said, spreading his own doubts. ‘We have no proof.’

  ‘Are you calling me a liar?’ Freydel glowered.

  ‘No, Freydel, I’m simply wondering of the proof of it,’ Domenon sighed. ‘Baelthrom has no use for the White Beast if he cannot control him. He let Keteth live simply to keep us hemmed in in West Frayon. Who can say that the Maphraxies didn’t have a hand in his destruction? It means more power released to the world, and the removal of an entity that was getting in their way.’

  ‘She can tell you about it herself, when she is here,’ Freydel said in finality. ‘When Coronos and his party arrive in Carvon, I will again call the Wizard’s Circle and bring Issa here. But I will not agree to the Storm Holt and will advise her against it. The final decision remains in her hands.’

  The wizards agreed. Navarr fidgeted. ‘This meeting must draw to a close. I have many things to attend to, and we’ve already been here over half a day. Time is short. Who knows when and where the Maphraxies will strike. Being prepared is a matter of great urgency.

  ‘Indeed, Navarr.’ Freydel said. ‘I’m keen to bring Arla to you and your healers.’

  ‘Of course, Freydel. There is a room for you in the west wing for as long as you desire. Arla can have the room next to yours,’ Navarr said.

  ‘Thank you, it means a lot. If the Circle will kindly assist in transporting the girl and I to Navarr’s hospitable home, the journey will be much more pleasant and less taxing on my weakened energy reserves.’

  Freydel stood up, retrieved his orb and lingered a thoughtful look at the Orb of Water. Then he turned and gently picked up the sleeping Arla. She curled up in his arms, but did not awaken. Her body was so light he worried immediately for her wellbeing.

  The wizards rose and chatted briefly with each other before saying their farewells. Beside Freydel, Drumblodd gripped Navarr’s arm.

  ‘You will have dwarven warriors whenever you need them, Navarr,’ Drumblodd said. ‘You have but to ask.’

  Navarr tapped his hand upon the dwarfs. ‘Thank you, and I shall need them Drumblodd, be sure of that.’

  ‘There is one more thing we have not discussed - the safety of the orbs,’ Domenon said, gaining everyone’s attention. He eyed each Orb Keeper purposely. ‘If Baelthrom can get so close to taking another, we’ll need to reconsider their protection. Wouldn’t it be safer to leave the orbs under high protection in the safety of the Wizard’s Tower? If Baelthrom is hunting Orb Keepers, maybe both Keeper and orb would be safer apart?’

  The wizards frowned, uncertain. Freydel didn’t like the thought of that at all.

  ‘Leaving the orbs altogether just waiting for him to find them is by no means safer and possibly sheer folly. Why do you think Orb Keepers exist? To protect the orbs at all costs, not leave them lying around,’ Freydel said.

  Domenon smiled and spread his arms. ‘Let us hope then that the Orb Keepers are strong enough, and can be trusted to protect them… at all costs.’ His look lingered on Freydel who held his eye unsmiling.

  ‘We Orb Keepers will d
o whatever we can to protect the orbs,’ Drumblodd said, ‘as we’ve always done.’

  ‘Come now gentlemen, we must get this child to a healer,’ Navarr said.

  The wizards formed a circle around Freydel, Navarr and Arla and spoke in unison a transportation spell. Shimmering light engulfed the forms of the three, and then they were gone. One by one the other wizards left until Domenon was alone. He took one long look at the empty hollows where the orbs had been.

  Coronos was far too old to carry two orbs, and being only a novice wizard he was far too weak to protect them should anything happen. If this girl needed a Secondary Keeper, then he would be the best choice by far. The girl would know nothing of orbs anyway. Perhaps he should become a mentor to her just as Freydel had. He drew his gaze away and then left the Circle as the others had done.

  Chapter 25

  The Battle Of Wenderon

  MARAKON turned eastwards where fire filled the sky. Though the street ahead was clear of Maphraxies, Dread Dragons filled the sky above. His horse hated the flaming buildings, and shied away if he got too close, but the blaze formed a weak kind of cover from aerial attacks as he cantered up the cobbled streets. People fled everywhere, some almost running under his horse in their panic.

  ‘Run to the trees, run to the hills,’ Marakon screamed at them, never knowing if they heard him or not.

  He came to the last row of houses. The road led to the top of the hill, and their house was at the end on its own. He turned onto it and galloped as fast as his horse could go. He crested the hill, almost holding his breath. His horse screamed and reared. His house was a roaring blaze, and not three yards above it was the heaving mass of a Dread Dragon’s airborne underbelly, its scales gleamed red in the firelight.