by Stephen Wolf
The minstrel shrugged. “She was looking out for us all in her own way. In any event, she used the jade to increase her magic skills, which brought competition years later. There were secret showings of the practitioners’ skills, and for some people, it resulted in their clandestine work for the current king, who benefits still from their knowledge.”
Dariak grunted. “I just don’t understand your kings, who all openly spurn magic but then have a storehouse of it hidden away.”
“They come from a long line of soldiers,” Randler answered readily, “but they know magic’s value. Still, better to keep it controlled than to let it run rampant.”
“Because Hathreneir is so wild,” the mage murmured sarcastically, then waved his hand for the bard to move on.
“From the underground battles, Ma-ma became known as a strong force. And, as I said, she met competition. She had a few rivals, particularly when she turned down the king’s offers. Apparently, she shared some of your ideology, Dariak, in that she didn’t want to give magic knowledge to a king who shunned its use other than for his personal gain. It did lead to troubles for her, but she fended them off. I was off traveling around that time, so I only caught snippets of information when I would return home. I always offered a share of my earnings, but she only accepted funds if I earned them from performances—the troupe I was with didn’t always receive their proper payments, so sometimes we went and, well, collected anyway.”
“You stole it,” Kitalla translated.
“Yes,” he agreed reluctantly. “I don’t like to admit that, but it did teach me additional skills, which later became far more important.” He paused and gathered his thoughts. “One rival challenged my mother and nearly defeated her, which would have been a first. After all, she was using additional power and spells from the jade my grandfather had given her, so she only struggled against longtime practitioners. Not so when Halrone entered the scene. He was able to defeat nearly every one of her spells, and she was hard-pressed to keep him at bay. She was devastated by it, I could tell. So I decided to investigate.”
“And you saw he had a piece of jade,” Dariak concluded.
“Yes. And it took a few tries, applying all the thieving and cunning skills I had, but I eventually took it.” He lifted his shadow jade. “Ma-ma was both furious and hungry. She wanted nothing to do with my ‘foul and horrid deeds,’ but at the same time, she wanted the extra power. I saw something break in her that day. She denied the jade I had stolen, but then she tried taking it from me through force. She was too conflicted between her set of morals and her desire for magic. We had a major scuffle over it, and before it could escalate to something unforgivable, I left with the shard.”
“Wait a minute,” Gabrion interrupted. “Those rogues who were after you…”
Randler nodded slowly. “Sons of my mother’s rival. Hired by her to find this shard. With a huge bounty to ensure the task is completed. Clearly, my departure didn’t settle well with her.”
Silence fell as they all let the story fall into place. Then Kitalla stood up and paced around. “But you didn’t really answer the question, did you? How do you know how many pieces of jade there are?”
He answered easily. “My grandfather knew of the soldiers and healers who took shards back with them. He told me.”
“Easy and convenient,” she said, her eyes narrowing into slits.
“Must all things be complicated?” he retorted.
“So you’re collecting the jades too, then?” Gabrion cut in before Kitalla could start another tantrum.
“In a sense, yes,” he said, hesitation creeping into his voice.
Kitalla raised an eyebrow. “What for, if you’re not a mage and you’re not planning on handing them over to your mother? Or are you?”
Randler glanced quickly at Dariak, then looked down at his hands. “No, I want to gather them and stash them away in a place where no mages will be able to use them ever again.”
It struck like a knife deep into Dariak’s heart. He stared at the bard like he was a complete stranger. His whole quest to unite the shards was in direct violation of Randler’s own quest. And all along, he’d thought the minstrel was on his side.
“But you gave me advice to guide me to other shards,” he stammered. “You’re using me to collect them for you? So you can hide them away?”
“I’m sorry.”
Chapter 28
Lightning Tower
The next few days were difficult for the group. Dariak refused to speak to Randler, who tried repeatedly to beg for forgiveness. The tension between them made Kitalla uneasy, which prompted spasms of pain as well as more lurid outbursts. Gabrion kept them all functioning.
Each chance he had, the warrior pulled Dariak aside to learn of any supplies he specifically needed, which Gabrion relayed to the minstrel. He then took the mage to Kitalla, and they summoned healing energies with as much passion as they could muster. Dariak was determined to repair Kitalla rapidly now and was grateful that the warrior at least helped maintain the energy flows.
All the while, Gabrion was torn between his ideals and his growing friendship with Dariak. A large part of him agreed with Randler’s task and thought the jade shards should be secreted away and never found again. Yet he also felt that Dariak’s intentions were true and that he would need the power of the Red Jade to bring peace to the land. While Gabrion doubted another colossus would help, the aftereffects that Dariak had mentioned about balancing resources and using the power to help both kingdoms thrive made some sense to him.
With the advent of war, many of the guards around the city made the pilgrimage to the western border to join the king’s army. Not that Pindington was left unprotected, but the prisoners in the tower felt the change in their overseers. Late one night, they started a revolt to rival Gabrion’s own.
Loud, crashing noises awoke the trio. Bereft of Randler, who had a performance that night, they relied on Gabrion’s own scouting to determine the source of the noise. The warrior led them through a series of spiraling hallways until they could see the central dais where the turnstiles stood against the moonlight.
Gabrion scanned the area, and off across the yard he saw that the chain that operated the lift had broken. The pile of counterbalance boulders had been thrown against the support pulley, breaking it and dropping the mechanism to the pit below. Gabrion had worked the lift, and he knew that it was a decent drop from that height, but it wasn’t impossible to survive unscathed. He glanced around again and saw, over by the axes, the corpse of Cavall. He’d met a bloody end, and his whip had then been coiled around his neck out of spite.
The fighting grew more intense, and even though they couldn’t see any of it, it echoed through the secret passageways. Overhead, thunder boomed deeply, and Dariak gasped, understanding that the mages had joined the fray. He wondered if they were escaping prisoners or if, like himself originally, they were more annoyed that their studies had been interrupted. Either way, it wasn’t good for the trio.
Gabrion led them through other hallways, until one wall crashed inward, nearly catching him in the face. He pulled back as two rogues bounded into the passage, weapons in hand. They didn’t hesitate. Gabrion was an obstacle, and they lunged immediately upon him. The area was too constricted for them to do any real damage, but the warrior shouted in pain as one dagger slashed his thigh. He went down, and they clambered over him, kicking and jumping to escape. Dariak pressed himself against the wall to let them pass, but one rogue punched him in the face. They bounded over him and faced Kitalla.
The thief was already edgy from the noises reverberating all around them. This new threat, however, triggered a violent reaction. She fell back, kicking her foot up into the first rogue’s weapon hand, knocking the dagger loose. Rolling onto her feet, she then leaped forward and plunged her hands into his neck and abdomen, not that she needed to do both to disable him. So strong wa
s the force of her blow, however, that she crushed his windpipe, and he collapsed to the ground with only seconds left to live.
The next rogue shoved his comrade down and tried to continue fighting Kitalla over him. To stop him, she continued her forward momentum by bending down and flipping on her hands, bringing her legs up and grabbing the man by the neck with her feet. As he sailed one way and she the other, Kitalla twisted her body sharply, ending the bout with a loud crack to the man’s neck. He clattered to the ground, and she turned her blind rage on Dariak, who did his best to look innocent and harmless. She pounced for him anyway, but Gabrion caught her, and though she clawed at his back and kneed him in the stomach, he withstood the attacks until she stopped.
The gaping hole in the wall was not going to go unnoticed for long. Their options were limited, and none of them wanted to actually head into the Prisoner’s Tower. Gabrion took the lead again and brought them back to their main chamber, setting the locks, but with all the tumultuous magic being used, they all feared that these chambers wouldn’t last long.
Randler ran headlong into the room as they caught their breath. “Hurry!” he shouted. “Grab your things; we must get out!”
“We’d figured as much,” Kitalla commented, tossing blankets and pillows to the floor for the sheer desire to disturb something. She didn’t have much in the way of possessions.
“What’s happening?” Dariak asked, checking his pockets to ensure he had all the things he needed.
Randler scrambled to grab a few items left around the room. “A massive revolt within the tower, prompted by a mage at the top. Some spell of his went awry, and the inner wall started breaking and falling. They tried to subdue him, but the other prisoners took it as a sign, and they all rebelled. But the damage is massive up there, and the tower looks about to fall in on itself. We have to hurry.”
Kitalla propped herself on the bed and eyed the bard sternly. “Weren’t you at a performance?”
“It’s rather late,” he shot back, throwing a pack over his shoulder. “It ended hours ago.”
“So you went into the tower to watch the mage’s rampage?” she continued.
“Kitalla, this isn’t the time for this. We have to move!” As if to accentuate the point, falling stone crashed outside the walls and shook the flooring. “Come on!”
She took her time getting up. “I just don’t understand how, if this is all happening so fast, you were able to find out what transpired up there and then get down here to us.”
Furious, Randler adopted an imposing stance and stared her down. “Blue-green lightning erupts from the tower, deep thunder echoes across the city, everyone wakes up and starts running around terrified. It’s obvious where the source is. Pieces of stone falling everywhere, and prisoners screaming for their lives. What more do you want?”
“The truth,” she demanded.
He rolled his eyes, exasperated. “Stay then, and ask the other corpses yourself. There is no other truth.”
The ground shook violently; it was hard for them to even stand during the tremors. “Kitalla, let’s go!” Dariak shouted. “There’s definitely foul magic at work here. We’ll sort it out later.”
Gabrion suddenly leaped across the bed and threw Kitalla to the floor, which almost earned him a knife in the neck, until Kitalla saw the chunk of ceiling stone that had fallen to the bed. She stood up and dusted herself off, thanking Gabrion with a glance, and then stepped toward the exit at last. She pushed past the mage and the bard as echoes of her time in Grenthar’s domain shook within her, just as the tremors shook the walls. She released a battle cry and charged through the dark corridor ahead. Debris was piling up, and other doorways in the passage had been blasted open, whether by spells, weapons, or crumbling walls, none of them could tell.
She leaped over the pieces she could, not allowing her body to claim weakness at this time. She had bested Grenthar’s every trap, or close enough anyway. One tumbling tower would not stop her. She pushed on through the darkness, turning left or right at Gabrion’s calls from behind. They hurried past various openings, espying others running for their lives in other corridors.
Dariak hurried along, but something was amiss. He clutched the jade he had returned to his chest pocket and stopped. “Wait!” he called, closing his eyes and concentrating.
“This isn’t the time,” Randler argued, to which Gabrion agreed.
Dariak looked at them and then turned toward the nearest opening in the wall. “There’s a piece of jade up there, and it’s active. I have to go for it.”
“This whole place is shuddering,” Gabrion replied. “You’ll never make it in time.”
“Wait for the tower to fall,” Randler pleaded. “We’ll return and excavate the jade later.”
But Dariak was determined now that he could feel his earth jade pounding so fiercely. “I have to go. You all go on ahead. I’ll meet you later.”
Gabrion saw the determination in Dariak’s eyes. “Be careful, friend.”
“You too.” With that, the mage departed through the opening, dodging falling debris.
“Come on,” Gabrion said, jogging to catch up with Kitalla, who hadn’t slowed for them.
“I’m going with him, Gabrion,” Randler said. “You two stay safe.”
“Are you sure?”
“I have to.” With that, Randler ducked through the hole and chased after Dariak.
The mage was surprised to see the bard, especially after their recent disagreement. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to yell at Randler or hug him. Unable to decide, he merely asked, “You’re coming?”
“One way or the other, I want you to be safe. So let’s get the jade and go quickly.”
It was good enough for Dariak. He nodded and turned toward a distant doorway. The halls were relatively dark, but lit wall sconces guided them along. Additionally, the open windows allowed flashes of light to cast eerie shadows down the path. Chunks of stone were falling everywhere, and the deeper they went toward the center of the tower, the more groaning sounds came from the walls and ceiling.
When they reached the center, a small group of guards greeted them, swords poised for battle. Dariak disabled them quickly with aspects of the Shield of Delminor, then ran on, turning toward a stairwell and taking flight upward. Along the way, some of the prisoners remained in their cells, pulling on bars and pounding on doors. Some of the growling and seething made them seem like fierce animals, but considering the plight of the tower, it wasn’t surprising. “We have to release them,” Dariak decided.
“There already isn’t any time!” Randler protested, but Dariak was on his way to the nearest cage, unwrapping a chain and pulling open a large gate. The men inside were filthy and bestial, and they rushed out with such force Dariak was splattered to the floor. It didn’t matter to him, though. They might be criminals, but they didn’t deserve to die because of the tower falling in around them.
After two other such stops in the area, Dariak felt a pulse from the jade, calling him to go onward. They found the nearest set of stairs and wound up them, stepping over the bodies of guards who hadn’t survived an onrush of cellmates. Randler secured a quiver and bow for himself, and they continued upward. Most of the cells were empty, which suited the bard just fine. He didn’t want to press their chances any more than necessary, but Dariak insisted on at least poking his head into a few cells along the way.
Three more flights up and the damage to the tower became more apparent. There were large punctures in the wall where blasts of energy had shot through, with more dead bodies strewn across the floor, including those of guard dogs and prisoners. The floors where the guardsmen slept were bare, for they either were off to the war or had struggled to reclaim peace within the prison tower. Dariak entered a storeroom long enough to abscond a few extra daggers for himself, and then they continued the trek upward.
Once they passed the le
vel upon which Gabrion had served, the going became much more difficult. The tower was supported now only along its outer oval, with nothing in the central column to keep it upright. Here, the spell damage wreaked havoc. Where walls had holes, now they dropped downward to the prison courtyard below, which slowly filled with more and more falling debris. At one such opening, Dariak peered outside and saw a spectacular series of flashing lightning streaking across the sky and exploding a gap in one of the inner walls, sending a shower of stones downward. The lightning continued whipping out in all directions, and he knew now just where he needed to go.
The problem was that many of the corridors were becoming impassable. A few stretches of ceiling had collapsed in completely, and the only way through was to take time to dig an opening. They veered around the obstacle, rushing through a mess hall where many tables still had food waiting to be eaten, and out another doorway. Around a bit farther, another stairway led up once more.
A deafening crash sounded, and the walls shook terribly. Screams echoed from afar, and the floor itself felt like it continued to move, even when the immediate tremors stopped. Dariak risked another glance and saw that the uppermost ring of the tower had burst apart and was collapsing in all directions. He could only see the portions falling inward into the central column, but he knew how large those chambers were up there, and he realized that portions of the wall would also be plummeting outside and into the city.
“Dariak, look!” Randler called, running over to a pile of fallen stone. At least three men were trapped underneath the rubble, their limbs flailing desperately to be free. The two of them immediately pulled chunks of rock from the pile, freeing the trapped guards, who each helped to free their fellows. Five men were rescued from the tumult, thanks to their iron-plated armor, but two others hadn’t survived.
“Prisoners, flee this place,” one of them demanded. “We have no time to deal with the likes of you. Go.” He scrounged around for a sword and shield and then turned toward the doorway.
