“Now, for the new empire,” he whispered, and they all moved as one to subdue the boy.
But a new sound emerged. From all sides, shadows charged into the tent.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Prince Jondran and Branwenth stormed the tent where the boy was sleeping, swords drawn and arms tensed and ready to fight. The prince’s eyes scanned the room, trying to locate threats. There, standing over the bed. Cultists in red robes had seized the boy. The leader, at the boy’s head, was raising his hands to cast a spell. But what spell? It looked like they were preparing for some action against the boy.
The blue light from a wizard’s fire shone in the dark room. Arcturius strode forward and aimed a gnarled staff at the cultists. Simultaneously, Drevenia and Hadara, leaders of the northern coven, cast spells of light and replicated themselves many times throughout the room, surrounding the cultists. The prince had to stop himself from gaping at the illusions.
And somewhere in the room, moving stealthily, two assassins from Jalinfaer snuck toward the bed, blowguns tipped with deadly, paralyzing poison.
Grinning to himself, the prince knew these cultists didn’t stand a chance. But as he strode closer toward them, his mouth went dry as he recognized the cultist at the boy’s head. It was Lord Rigar Orensal, Lady Elendria’s father. His hands were gripping the writhing boy, along with the other cultists. They had purposefully subdued the boy from every angle and blocked his ability to move his hands and feet, to speak, to see, and to hear.
What was going on? Why was Lord Rigar leading a movement against the boy similar to what Arcturius was planning with the witches?
“If you value your life, you will leave this tent immediately!” shouted Lord Rigar, “or at least allow us to complete the exorcism unmolested. If we release the boy, we will all die.”
The boy thrashed and jerked violently, trying to free himself from the men. A sobering thought hit Prince Jondran. Was it the boy or the spirit of the god inside the boy that moved him? He remembered that horrible night at Ravenswood and how the boy glowed that awful shade of electric blue and floated through the basement filled with power. Here before him was the same force, and the boy now began to shine that same hue.
Arcturius looked both curious and terrified as he stared at the boy. “Do what you must, Lord Rigar. For if you have come to perform an exorcism, know this, we have come to do the same thing. We will not leave, nor will we interfere while you do your work. You’ve formed a circle around the boy, and we stand here as a secondary circle to ensure the success of this exorcism. Go, now! Begin your spell before it is too late.”
Lord Rigar spoke a word of power. All the light in the room was vanquished, save for the electric blue light that clung to the boy. Faces illuminated by the blue glow, the cultists leaned over the boy, pressing their hands down against his struggling body.
A muffled scream came from Remi’s mouth, but the sound was dissonant and impotent against them. The boy tried to move his fingers as if attempting to cast a spell, but they were forced back down to the bed, useless.
Elendria’s father spoke a second word of power. A fiery red orb of glassy light materialized above the boy, hovering menacingly in the air. Black tendrils of flame lapped hungrily down toward Remi.
The boy writhed and twisted in a violent movement, tossing off the cultist who had been holding down his right hand. The blue fingers moved, freed from their bonds, and glowed fiercely. A spell quickly struck the cultist holding the boy’s mouth, incinerating him into an instant puff of ash. It all happened so fast Jondran barely had a moment to gulp in a panicked breath.
He charged toward the boy, dropping his sword, and dove, slapping one hand over the boy’s mouth and the other hand gripping his wrist.
The prince’s mouth flared open in agonizing pain. Electric jolts of power raged through him, sending tears down his cheeks. He grit his teeth and bore down, refusing to let go.
From around them came Lord Rigar’s voice again, speaking a third word of power. Jondran looked up in horror as the blood red orb grew larger and descended. He could feel the unholy power tugging away at his soul. It was the most terrifying and painful thing he had ever felt.
Another jolted struck him, sending torrents of searing power through him. The prince screamed and released the boy, collapsing to the ground.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
In her mind, she heard Prince Jondran’s horrific scream. Elendria stopped in her tracks and closed her eyes. What had just happened? Was the prince dead?
She sank to her knees, confusing the line. They had been headed to a tent where their scouts thought her father resided. Her fingers went out, flicking the required spell into existence. Find Prince Jondran. She soon saw an angry red orb of light fighting against a glowing blue figure.
That color, thought Elendria. The electric blue of the summoning, of Remi after Ba’al was inside him. Then figures resolved in her vision. Her father’s strained face illuminated by the blue and red light. He was struggling against the power of Ba’al.
Prince Jondran was sprawled out on the floor. Was he still alive?
A shock jolted her out of the vision. “What’s going on, Elendria?”
It was Madam Lassengre’s voice.
“We have to go to the prince and Arcturius. My father is there. They are all in trouble. The boy—Ba’al—is fighting them.”
“How far?” hissed the sorceress.
“A few minutes,” said one of their rangers, “if we run.”
One of the men helped Elendria to her feet, and they charged through the night like the gods were at their feet.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Lord Rigar clasped his hands over the boy’s mouth and wrist, taking over where the prince had failed. He still couldn’t believe Castenar was dead. The spell from the boy had incinerated him in an instant.
Survive this battle and grieve him later, he told himself, willing his strength to hold against the boy.
He glanced at the child and wished he hadn’t. Remi’s eyes gleamed that malevolent shade of blue, victorious and all-powerful.
Ba’al was awake now, fully awake, like that night in Ravenswood. Rigar had never seen the boy this powerful, not even then. His body shone so strongly Lord Rigar had to close his eyes for fear of going blind.
Why are you forsaking me? a voice hissed inside his head.
It was the voice of his god. Ba’al was speaking to him like the first time he’d touched the statue of the god in the old ruins. His god was alive and talking to him. Not through some intermediary, not through the vessel underneath his hands, but directly inside his mind.
“Lord Ba’al!” shouted Rigar, not caring who heard, for his heart thrilled. “My life for you!”
The hissing grew louder, like the voice of a serpent slithering its way into his mind.
Then remove your hand from the boy’s mouth. The voice of Ba’al exhaled then gulped an inhalation. I will speak through him and tell you my most valuable secret: the location of the ancient relic of power. The Heart of the Empire. I have waited to see if you are loyal. Are you ready to receive my gift?
In his euphoria to please Ba’al, he almost obeyed immediately, but something held him back. Those eyes were staring at him, the eyes of the boy were filled with a keen intent.
The boy was getting inside his head, Lord Rigar realized.
Do not dally around for the sake of your god. The voice spoke again, louder this time. If you are indeed a loyal subject of Ba’al, you will obey and take your hands off the child. All will be revealed to you if you do.
But the eyes were speaking to him, and the voice, the voice was similar to what the eyes were saying. It was as if they were one. A warning thrill charged through him as the voice screamed this time.
Now! Release the boy and obey your god! You will find Ba’al unmerciful and wrathful if you do not obey.
It was the boy, or more correctly, the entity inside him. He was speaking into Rigar’s mind, try
ing to manipulate him. Rigar turned to Arcturius and sent him a pleading look. The old wizard was administering a healing spell to Prince Jondran. Arcturius narrowed his eyes and rushed over to Rigar.
The wizard winced as if something had struck him. He noticed the boy’s frantic eyes moving wildly and moved to cover them and the ears for good measure.
“He is trying to control us!” shouted Arcturius. “What a hideous feeling. This god of yours is vile and corrupt. Why, Lord Rigar, why do you worship him? Ba’al was the downfall and ruination of the Maledorian Empire. Madam Lassengre believes a demon is inside the boy, not a fragment of a god. Are you worshiping and following a demon?”
The wizard’s face bore the pained expression of one suffering from a great exertion. He fought with all his will against the boy. The cultists and the wizard labored together, pressing the boy down while the exorcism worked its magic.
The red orb was functioning well now, sucking out the taint from the boy. Remi thrashed wildly underneath their hands, but the ferocity of the power was waning.
They were winning. Lord Rigar let out a sigh of relief. Gods, they were winning!
He glanced at Arcturius and the other witches. His mind now churned with how to deal with them. Through his thoughts, he reached out to the constructs nearby and found them more than willing to obey his commands. They were his, now.
Come to me, he told them. He could feel them moving in the dark; he could feel the night mist on their skin.
“Perhaps, we did make a mistake,” Rigar admitted. “And I intend on correcting that mistake by curing the boy of this thing. Whatever it is, a fragment of a god or a demon, I know not. The boy was a friend to my daughter, and I have vowed to make that right with her, to restore Remi back to her care.”
You must delay the wizard, thought Rigar. You must make him believe you are penitent.
“And what about the damage done by you and the duke?” Arcturius looked down at the boy, who now groaned softly. The blue light was fading.
“I have dealt with the Duke of Wrainton and hidden him away. It was never my desire to have caused so much bloodshed and malice to the world.” Lord Rigar gave a long, deliberate sigh of frustration. “I warned them of the folly of their decisions, but I was overridden, time and time again. The boy was chaotic, and the duke was his whisperer of dark deeds. Inside the duke exists a kind of hostility I could never fathom. He truly believes in the rise of the Maledorian Empire, no matter what the cost to innocent people.”
“And you do not?” Arcturius turned to face him, his expression suspicious.
“I believe in the power of Ba’al, the power I discovered in the ancient ruins of Maren Downs. Whether it Maledorian in nature or something older, I know not. It revealed itself to me as Ba’al, the old god of fertility and growth. Whatever thing we summoned into the body of the boy was not Ba’al. I believe that now.”
Lord Rigar glanced around at the many illusions staring at him and wondered where the real witches were. A simple spell of illumination might correct his seeing. Arcturius would be challenging to deal with. The wizard was a legend. And the two assassins sneaking in the dark, they would be handled. Already, the power of his mentalist mind was reaching out to them, causing them to feel sluggish and sleepy.
It would come down to a battle of wizards and witches. Little did his opponents know, but he would be soon surrounded by an army of constructs.
The tent flap opened, but instead of the constructs, he was greeted by his daughter’s alarmed face.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Out of breath from running, Lady Elendria stopped at the entrance of the room and found a crowd of illusions: copies of Drevenia and Hadara filled the room. Arcturius, her father, and several other cultists stood watch over Remi, who was lying on a bed in the center of the tent. The electric blue glow around his body was gone. Was he no longer affected by the dark god? Hope surged in her heart at the thought of him being freed from the thing that had infected him.
But where was Prince Jondran? She scanned the room, trying to find him, frantic now. A surge of fright shot through her when her eyes landed on him. Was he dead? She ran over and felt for his pulse. He was sprawled out on the floor, injured. But thank the gods, he was alive, though unconscious.
“Elendria?” her father said, his voice surprised and frightened at the same time. “What are you doing here?”
“You should know why I’m here. I vowed to protect him.” She took a hesitant step toward Remi, mindful of anything that might happen to hurt the boy. “What are you doing to him?”
“Don’t look at me like that. I’ve been helping him, trying to make amends. He will be fine. I promise.” Her father looked ashamed. “I’m sorry for what I’ve done to him and for the pain and suffering I’ve put you through. I was wrong.”
Elendria pursed her lips. Why the sudden change of heart? What had happened to him over the last few weeks to cause such a difference?
“You’re sorry?” She scoffed, indignant now as she remembered Remi’s body being invaded by the demon. How could they worship it as a god? “You’re sorry for brutally kidnapping and torturing a small, helpless child? You invited a malevolent spirit to take over and possess his body! How could you do such a thing? I can’t imagine how much pain he’s suffered in the long days and weeks since.”
“That’s why I came here, at the risk of my life, to save Remi.” Her father looked down at the boy, who was moving now, groaning.
His eyelids fluttered. This filled Elendria with the purest joy. She darted over to his side and placed a hand on his forehead, which was hot and sweaty. He had a fever.
Her father continued, “I wanted to make amends for what I did and try to restore Remi, to cure him. You are the most important thing to me, Elendria. I wanted to undo the wrong I did to you and the boy.”
“Nothing could make amends for what you’ve done to him. It’s not that easy.” But she said the words like she lacked the conviction—and her tone was less harsh than it had been before. This seemed to fill her father with hope.
Remi coughed suddenly, causing her to lean in close and lift his head.
“Remi?” Elendria said, her voice soft. “Are you still in there?”
The boy tried weakly to open his eyes, and he coughed again. “Elendria?” he whispered so quietly she could barely hear his voice.
“It’s me. I’m here for you, Remi.” She ran her hand across his sweaty brow, feeling overjoyed that he had called her name. Was the demon gone?
Remi seemed overwhelmed by the exertion of talking, but a beatific smile came to his face, expressing joy.
“You cured him, Father?” She glanced up at him. “How did you remove the spirit of Ba’al?”
“It was the old exorcism spell. Well, a variant of a spell I learned from my grandmaster.” Lord Rigar kneeled and examined the boy. “He should recover after a few days of rest. But he is young, so it might be sooner. Children are ever so resilient.”
“Then this madness is over?” said Arcturius. The wizard peered over his shoulder at the boy, hesitant, keeping a wary eye on her father.
“Not quite over, I’m afraid.” A grim expression came to Lord Rigar’s face as he continued looking at Remi. It was as if many conflicting thoughts and emotions were waging war inside his mind.
“What is it, Father?” Elendria was frightened by what she saw in him. The fear was deepened because she’d seen that look many times before. After he’d returned from the ruins in Maren Downs; where he’d touched the statue of Ba’al. Her father had looked that way when he had something in his mind he couldn’t let go, but a part of him knew it was wrong.
“You need to surrender.” Arcturius looked angry now; hands stretched out threateningly toward her father. “You’ve done the right thing and restored the boy. Don’t throw away our goodwill. I will promise to plead to the courts for leniency on your behalf.”
Madam Lassengre, Drevenia, and Hadara crept closer as well, eying the wizard a
nd her father. Elendria believed that somewhere, in the dark room, two assassins were stalking, and waiting to strike.
“Maybe you all should leave,” she said to Arcturius and glanced at the witches. “Let me stay and talk to my father a while.”
“No,” said the wizard. “This is a matter for adults. We will handle him. You should leave now, Lady Elendria.”
She locked eyes with her father, who pleaded to her silently. He needed her help. Hadn’t he taken the crucial step and healed Remi? Didn’t he deserve a chance?
Why was Arcturius so insistent and tense? He was only making things worse.
“I think it is better if you give me some time alone with him.” She shot Arcturius a warning look. “I will sort things out. There is no need to fight.”
“Who said we were going to fight?” The wizard met her gaze and scowled. “You’ve played your role here, child, and now it is time for you to leave.”
The hairs on the back of Elendria’s neck stiffened. Her irritation with the wizard blossomed into anger. Why was the man acting this way? Who did he think he was, treating her with such condescension? She glanced at Hadara, looking for support, and found confirmation: the witch seemed displeased with the wizard.
“Perhaps we should allow the girl a moment with her father.” Hadara looked at Arcturius with earnest eyes. “I can stay here and watch if you are concerned about Lord Rigar escaping. He will behave.”
“I will not leave this room,” said Elendria’s father, putting a hand up to his heart. He looked injured by the wizard’s statement, even confused. “I did the right thing coming here and helping the boy, the first step of many, I had hoped.”
“You see?” said Elendria, feeling brightened by his words. “Only a moment alone with him, that’s all I ask.”
Arcturius tensed like a cat preparing to pounce. He was unmoved by all that had been said. “I sense there is grave danger here, and I will not back down. Although Lord Rigar did the right thing with the boy, I suspect he did so out of his motives for self-preservation, rather than returning to the path of righteousness. For if the latter were true, he would have already surrendered.”
Empire Awakening (Maledorian Chronicles Book 2) Page 24
