by Justin Sloan
With the final strike the tall man went limp, and Donnon came back. He picked Kia up off the ground and carried her to the rest of their group.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and tried to fight back the tears, but one escaped and her voice broke as she said, “Thank you, Dad.”
If he replied she didn’t hear, because she’d buried face in her father’s chest as she cried, never wanting him to let go. Everything in her said she was still able to bring it, but that was at odds with how she had frozen back there.
Right now all she cared about was that she had her father. She had saved him, and he had saved her.
If anything, she realized, it was being there for each other that mattered, not how strong one individual was or how much magic they had.
“Over here! You won’t believe it!” Estair was shouting. When she looked up Lannis was at her side, and ahead of them was the water…and a ship!
Laird Summers stood at the bow, hands on his hips, shouting orders for his sailors to bring the boat in. Already men and women were preparing bows and arrows and placing bowls of oil and fire in front of the mages who would cast fire if it was needed.
A rowboat was lowered and made it to shore, and Kia and the group had just gotten into it when the first wave of sorcerers found them. But instead of finding the fleeing group they had expected, the sorcerers were met with a barrage of magic and arrows. Soon they were dead or had run away.
In a matter of minutes Kia had boarded the ship, and her father’s arms were around her as she walked on the deck, still feeling like she was in a trance. She leaned against the mast and watched as they began to sail away from the island, but not before the fire mages unleashed hell on it.
“What are they doing?” she asked her dad.
“We can’t let the enemy leave that island,” he replied. “Not a single one of them, if we can help it.” He turned to Laird Summers and pointed to the other island that had been formed by the split. “There. Alastar and Rhona are there, fighting the goddess.”
“Then that’s our destination!” Laird Summers replied, signaling to his sailors to make it so.
Kia smiled at Lannis, who had come over to check on her, and put an arm around him. They watched the plumes of smoke rise from the island, hating the smell of burning wood by this point. If they never had to be around another fire for the rest of their lives, she felt it would be just fine.
CHAPTER TWENTY
All around them the ground had shaken. Rocks fell and trees swayed, the water around the island erupting as if they were in a large bowl that someone was rocking.
Now it was over and here they were, a ring of Lady Mowain’s sorcerers standing around them, hands clasped and held up to the sky as they chanted and called down their wrath upon this island. If they were to be defeated, they wouldn’t let anyone else win.
But it was more than that, Rhona realized—it was somewhere between a distraction and a wake-up call. The sorcerers were distracting them while Lady Mowain healed herself. They had thought she was dead, but she was now lifted into the air as shadows and light twirled around her limbs, repairing her body. The magic had pushed her up so high she was practically floating over them, and she was laughing.
The effect of the magic on their surroundings was too much. Rhona dove as a rock nearly fell on her, then rolled down the hill and had to dive again as the earth beneath her split. Alastar appeared at her side, pulling her with him as they made a move to follow. Only, the line of sorcerers began their attack.
Alastar wasn’t having it. He shouted as he held up his arms and imagined the ball of light expanding outward, creating a golden dome over him and his sister. When he glanced back to ensure she wasn’t harmed, however, he saw she wasn’t there.
Blinking in confusion, he turned back to the sorcerers and then understood. Darkness flashed by one, then left to the next as blood seeped from the first one’s neck and he dropped, dead. The second’s chest exploded as shadowed claws emerged, and then others fled.
His sister wasn’t about to claim all the victory here, Alastar told himself. He charged the one farthest from his sister, arm outstretched to keep the shield of light in place, and then slammed into the man. As the shield exploded into a myriad of light particles, floating around him like a golden snow, he thrust his sword up and into the man.
A shadow appeared, and then there was Rhona, wavering at his side, a line of dead sorcerers behind her.
“Can you go on?” Alastar asked as he pulled his sword free, then bent to clean the blade on the dead sorcerer’s robes.
“Try and stop me,” Rhona replied.
They darted down the pathway in pursuit of Lady Mowain. Either she was retreating or leading them into a trap, but it didn’t matter because staying put was out of the question.
Not that it came to that, though, because as they ran the ground opened and swallowed the three of them. Darkness was everywhere, but darkness was Rhona’s friend. She closed her eyes, embracing it and searching for any sign of their enemy.
Alastar shot out light—she could see it from behind her eyelids—and she sensed the goddess moving for them like a charging bull. With a burst of energy, Rhona pushed her hands out to form a wall of shadow that stopped the woman in her tracks. It was only momentary, however, since the goddess too knew shadow magic.
She cast the shadows aside and hit Rhona with light that stung like fire.
With a yelp Rhona stumbled back, and opened her eyes to see Alastar leaping toward Lady Mowain with his sword thrust forward. A shadow wall of Lady Mowain’s making was between them, though, and it threw him back against a pile of rocks with a thud.
Rhona spun, trying to figure out their best move. They were in some sort of underground cavern that had been created or opened by the heaving ground above.
“Don’t you see that it’s just a matter of time before everything you thought you knew about the world is torn to shreds?” Lady Mowain thrust with shadows like claws, which Rhona was barely able to defend against.
“You can’t win here,” Rhona countered. “This is our world, and our time.”
Lady Mowain laughed. “You silly, ignorant child. Don’t you know we live in a world where my kind always wins? How do you think we got to this point, where devastation upon devastation has been thrown upon us from the heavens? I am a goddess, sent here to make a change. It is my purpose, and anything that gets in my way shall be destroyed.”
“You’re a bag of hot wind,” Rhona countered. “And I’m going to pop you and watch you bleed.”
“Maybe just get to it and stop talking,” Alastar said, recovering now and moving in a semi-circle around Lady Mowain, as if looking for an angle of attack.
Rhona nodded and charged the goddess. She threw everything she had at her, but each attack was easily rebuffed.
No matter what they tried, Rhona realized, it wouldn’t be enough. This woman had mastered the use of shadow and light beyond Rhona’s and Alastar’s comprehension, so if they were going to win they needed a new strategy.
***
Alastair looked down at the sword in his hands, then back up at Lady Mowain, who was advancing on Rhona. If he didn’t act fast, his sister would be in some real trouble. There had to be something to this sword. He wouldn’t believe it was just a plain old sword, not after hearing all the legends that had been built up around it. Not after all he had been through to obtain it.
A thought hit him.
He couldn’t catch her by surprise, because the shadows would tell her he was coming. They couldn’t overpower her, because she was too strong. She had the magic of both Alastar and Rhona combined, and if they hoped to stand a chance they needed to think outside the box.
The High Paladin had created the legend of the sword. Maybe there was a reason there? Maybe it wasn’t all a lie—maybe she actually believed it! It was possible Rodrick had used some other form of magic to imbue the sword with the green fire legends spoke of. If Alastar could do so it would be gre
at, but maybe he didn’t need to.
He gripped the sword with both hands, making sure his second hand was higher, right over the jade set in the hilt. He said a quick prayer to whatever out there was listening. This had to work, or they were doomed.
“Back away from my sister,” he demanded.
Lady Mowain turned to him with a sneer, but then he did it. He pressed his hand against the jade and powered the sword to make it glow, but instead of focusing on the blade he concentrated on the jade.
Sure enough, when the light shot out it looked distinctly green.
Lady Mowain’s eyes went wide and she stumbled back. “It can’t be! How—”
He didn’t give her a moment to doubt the sword, but simply charged. “NOW!” he called to his sister, and she caught on. With a shift in the shadows she was there at his side, propelling him forward so that he flew at his enemy, glowing green sword held out for the attack. He put all his energy into that fiery attack, so that with his powerful magic and the momentum from Rhona’s his strike hit hard.
Lady Mowain realized at the last second what was happening and tried to raise her hands to cast magic, but the sword tore through her wrists as he swiped upward, and he removed her head from her body as he brought the blade back down.
All it had been was a distraction, but a damn powerful one.
For a moment her eyes blinked and light and darkness formed in front of her, taking on shapes like people, some in chains and the rest standing on a world built by them…and then it all began to vanish like sand blown away by the wind.
When it was gone, her eyes had a distant, empty look to them.
“Heal from that,” he said, stumbling back to catch himself on the rock wall. The sword fell to his side with a clatter, its glow dying as Rhona materialized from the shadows next to him.
They watched as light and darkness surged around Lady Mowain’s headless corpse for a moment, then vanished like fog before the sun.
“It’s over,” Rhona said, barely a whisper. Then, louder, “It’s over!”
“We did it,” Alastar stated, and the two hugged each other. Alastar spun her in a circle before remembering how spent he was, and he carefully set her down.
They glanced at the dark cave, amazed. What now? Neither of them had spent much time thinking about what would come after their victory. They would figure it out, and they would move on. At least for now, their troubles were over.
When they had stumbled out of there, what they saw filled them with wonder. Plumes of smoke billowed into the sky from the other island, and someone was waving at them from a ship.
“Laird Summers?” Rhona asked.
“And there,” Alastar said, pointing to where he saw Donnon and Kia. At first he felt his ears burn and his stomach twist at the thought that maybe Estair hadn’t made it, but then he spotted her next to her uncle, Laird Summers. She threw her arms out wide, as if she could hug Alastar from there, and laughed.
He smiled and waved back, then gave a nod to his sister and said, “Are you ready?”
“To leave all this behind us?”
“To go home.”
She licked her lips, nodded, smiled, and wrapped her arm in his for balance. Together they made their way to the ship, finally able to accept that it was really over.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The king led his army, along with the new generals and Leila, through the passes of Arwin and past the swamps of Towain.
While some of the clans had proved troublesome, others had responded to the presence of Leila and the generals, seeing that the king had such a mixture of clans and others following him. They quickly allied with him or swore allegiance, if there were no fighters available. Only a couple had put up any resistance, having sworn allegiance to the goddess, but they had been no match for his forces.
They were making camp, preparing to start a long push into harder-to-traverse lands, when Volney held up a hand and his eyes went white.
“Trouble?” Rose asked.
Stone laughed, nudging the paladin at his side. “When his eyes go white like that, you can bet it’s either trouble or he’s reading the dirty thoughts going through your mind. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t do the same.”
“It’s neither, this time,” Volney said with a smile, but then turned his white eyes on Stone. “Ew, but the disgusting thoughts running through your head are entertaining.”
“Stay out,” Stone said, instantly losing his smile.
Volney’s eyes returned to normal and he laughed. “Only playing with you, paladin. Good news. They’re here.”
“They?” the king asked, startled, and he spilled some of the water he had been drinking.
“Larick and the others. It seems this plan of yours has come full circle.” A worried expression came over Volney’s face, and he held up a hand as his eyes went white again. “Wait, there’s more… Apparently they have pursuers.”
“Who?” the king demanded.
When Volney’s eyes returned to normal this time he frowned, then bit a nail before replying, “All of them.”
“All of them?”
Volney nodded. “That’s what Larick said. He said they’re close, but they’ve managed to draw out all our enemies, more than they can handle. He says he’s glad they found us now or it might’ve been too late.”
A stunned silence followed, interrupted by the king putting away his water, kissing Rose firmly, and turning to his army to shout, “To arms! The final battle is upon us!”
All cheered and scrambled to prepare while Volney made his way to the edge of the group, looking to the hills in the north. At first it was just another peaceful evening, the sun casting long shadows amidst fiery oranges and pinks. Birds chirped and a nearby stream provided a peaceful soundtrack to it all.
First one form appeared, then more, and then a whole army made their way over the hills. He sensed Larick among them, then heard his friend’s voice in his head say, Hurry the hell up! Why are you just standing there?
Volney gulped and shouted, “Your Highness?”
As the king turned, the enemy became visible. Whatever clans and strongholds the goddess had held up north were all clearly there. They had to be, or the numbers wouldn’t have made sense.
“CHARGE!” the king commanded, and his army moved into formation, the paladins taking up the right flank and the Ghostland clan taking up the left before running forward. At the halfway point Laird Summers’ army stopped and turned to face their pursuers, weapons at the ready, and the king’s army joined them at the moment the enemy arrived.
Volney dove around them, doing his best to convince the enemy they were chickens, all the while searching for his friend Larick.
When he finally saw him standing with hands outstretched and what looked like armies of skeletons and ghouls around him, his heart skipped a beat. Then he saw how the enemy, while scared and trying to avoid them, really couldn’t be harmed by them, and he laughed.
Learned a new trick or two, have you? he remarked mentally.
A new friend gave me the idea, Larick replied as he cast an army of ghosts ahead of him. Thought we could use it if we come across trouble on the rest of the journey.
Volney laughed and ran over to join in the fun, adding what he thought would be the most terrifying. A massive chicken with sharp fangs and deadly talons charged through the enemy lines.
“We’re going to have to have a little chat later about what you think is scary,” Larick shouted to him, and then the two were in an embrace, invisible to the world for a moment.
“I’m ready to get out of this place. You?”
Larick nodded. “As soon as this war’s over, and I have a feeling this little battle will be it.”
“Back to Arcadia?” Volney glanced around and made his giant chicken charge a group that looked overconfident. Half of them broke and ran and the others fell backward, pissing themselves.
“Arcadia?” Larick scoffed. “Please! We’ve only just begun to explore the wor
ld. I was thinking Kaldfell, or maybe heading east… Far east.”
“Deal.”
The two turned back to the fight and commenced putting their full energy into it, ensuring no metaphysical punches were pulled.
With their help and the power of the allied armies they were soon victorious, but these two didn’t stay to join in the festivities. They knew it was over, and they had already been here long beyond their originally intended time.
They glanced back from a far hill, watching the soldiers lift the king into the air, chanting their victory chants and roaring their glorious roars.
“We did good here,” Larick said, smiling and clasping his friend on the shoulder. “But in the next land, let’s try and stay out of trouble.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Volney replied, and then the two turned and were off, never to see the Lost Isles again (as far as they were concerned).
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The days that followed the defeat of Lady Mowain were filled with skirmishes as the king’s soldiers rounded up the last of her followers for imprisonment, though it was rumored that some had made it across the sea to the mainland. There was no point in pursuing them now, as the strongest ones and their leader had all been defeated.
When it was finally over and the ships had carried large groups of people down to the palace at Gulanri, the king called everyone together to the city square. He went out to greet them on a chilly evening as the sun approached the hills to the west, casting a pink hue across the crowd.
“We now live in a united land,” he began, nodding to Laird Summers, Laird Lokane, and the other Ronelanders. “But I have a very important announcement to make. As you all know, none of this would have been possible without the aid of my long-lost children, Rhona and Alastar. They are everything to me, and growing to know them has been a true blessing.
