The Red Citadel and the Sorcerer's Power

by Craig Halloran

  “Finster, no one came here for a fight. We came in the name of peace,” Unus said.

  “No, you came for the stone and the rings, the same way that Ingrid and Rolem did. Don’t take me for a fool. I’m a member of the high order, too, and none of us are beyond temptation, especially spineless wizards from the Violet Citadel like you.”

  Richter came up out of his chair with his hands glowing with fire. “You hurl insults like a fool! You will only bring about our imminent death and countless others too! There is enough blood on your hands, Secret Slayer! Do you want more?”

  With a strong but withering voice, Elam of the red robes spoke out. “Richter, sit. We are guests in Finster’s tower. We should show respect.” The older man of the group wiped his thinning gray locks away from his forehead.

  Richter sat. The glow in his hands cooled.

  Elam looked on at Finster with dark, penetrating eyes. With a gentle wave, he said, “Finster, I want to hear what you have to say. After all, we have only heard one side of the story.”

  “And which side might that be?” Finster asked.

  “Fine, then, two sides of the story. King Rolem’s and King-Elect Mather’s,” Elam continued. “I want to know what you know.”

  Finster quickly fed them what had happened with Ingrid and all that she had revealed to him. Without giving away too many details, he walked them through the attack at King Alrick’s dinner table. Catching them all up, he finished by saying, “It is King Rolem who started this war, not I. But I aim to finish it.”

  Elam nodded. “And when this war is over, what do you plan to do?”

  “As a former Guardian of the Mystic Forge, I will distribute the Founder’s Stone and rings of power for safe keeping. And I’ll do what I must to restore the Red Citadel to full order.”

  “A wise plan, Secret Slayer,” Elam said quietly. His eyes slid over to Moth. “But I’m afraid that we cannot let that happen.”

  CHAPTER 87

  As soon as Unus and the other sorcerers cleared the top of the tower, Alexandria signaled her two men over. She stood on her horse’s saddle. “Give me a boost.”

  Without a word, the two assassins stood on their saddles. In acrobatic maneuvers, one man climbed on top of the other assassin’s shoulders. Then Alexandria climbed up both men, creating a pyramid high enough to reach the blocks that made up the tower.

  “Astounding,” Osgald said.

  Alexandria’s fingers found purchase in the narrow cracks between the rock joints. “Wait here.” She climbed inside the bottom level of the tower using only her toes and fingers. Like a spider, she made her way to the inner wall. She moved on, hand over hand, foot over foot, taking a quick glance beneath her. Osgald and his knights gazed up at her. “I wouldn’t wait around. The tower might come down and crush you.”

  The knights backed their horses away.

  She made it to the bottom of the stairs that led up to the second level. Without looking back, she made the climb toward the top. If she was going to get another shot at Finster and this savage, this would be it. She couldn’t have cared less about what the sorcerers were doing. She was going to kill Finster and the savage. All she needed was the perfect distraction. She had the feeling that the sorcerers would provide that soon enough. And if they didn’t, she would.

  She moved upward, level by level, noting that the tower was all but empty. It was notably bigger on the inside than it was on the outside. On the third level, she stopped and removed her sword belt and dagger. She understood more about Finster’s powers now. He could control objects but not the flesh of the living—at least she hoped.

  Before she left the kingdom of Mendes, she had made sure that her garb was made from only natural fabrics, without buttons or pins. And she wore no jewelry. She didn’t think Finster could control all items. He’d proved he could manipulate metal, stone, and wood, but she hoped he didn’t have such control over linen or the living. If her garb proved a problem, she would shed it.

  She fished out a small vial made from glass that had a leather plug in the top and pulled the plug out. Wrapped around her forearms were dressings made from cloth. Inside those wraps were wooden needles like the ones that many savages used in their blow guns. She slid the long needles out, one by one, and dipped them into the jar. The inky-black poisoned ointment inside was the most potent in the land. It was made from a crimson berry found only in the higher altitudes of the Zorgaz Mountains. She had spent a mint to acquire it. Its touch would burn and paralyze. A stab of it into the flesh would mean instant death. No one ever survived it.

  With nimble hands, she loaded the five long darts back underneath her cotton sleeves and wrapped them up tightly. She left just enough of the top of each needle peeking out so that she could pull it free. Patting herself down, she made sure that she didn’t have a stitch of metal, a buckle, or a button on her. The wood of the needles was a risk, but they were so small that they should not be noticeable. Finally, she pulled the hood of her cloak over her head and instantly turned invisible. Heading up the next level of stairs, she said, “The Circle never fails.”

  CHAPTER 88

  Finster tapped his fingertips together and addressed the sorcerers. “Unus, Elam, and Richter, respectfully, you aren’t going to be able to stop me.” He gave a nod to Moth. “Or him for that matter. If you try, I promise, it will bring you immediate peril.”

  “You gloat!” Richter said as his hands glowed with a mystic red fire from within. “We are not a group of underlings from the bottom of our order. We are the cream on the top. Founder’s Stone or not, we will end you!”

  “Is this a challenge, then? The three of you versus the one of me?” Finster asked. “And be careful before you answer, because I promise that I will not show mercy.”

  All together, Unus, Elam, and Richter rose from their chairs. Unus said, “We serve the kingdoms, Finster. And you are serving yourself. You should reconsider what you are doing.”

  “Pah! You three windbags have no intention of serving the kingdoms. You are serving Rolem and this Mather as well as yourselves.” Finster stood. “What is the plan, insects? Will you take up residence in the Red Citadel and be the new advisors to the king? Will you control the Seven Kingdoms with the same parlor tricks that the Violet Citadel did, as I firmly recall? I know your methods and how you spread unrest and division among the fair cities. That is why the members of the Red Citadel beat you down. And now I will beat you down again!”

  The three mages exchanged a quick series of glances. Nodding, Unus said, “We offer the challenge to you, Finster. You may fight or you may surrender, but we are obligated to use the full measures of our powers.”

  Finster turned to Dizon. “This shouldn’t take long, but do move to a safe spot.” He pointed to the stairs. “I’ll holler when it’s over. And if you hear screaming, it won’t be me, it will be them.” He looked up at Moth. “I’m not sure what you have in mind, but if you aren’t going to help me—not that I need it—or protect the women, just make sure you aren’t in my way.”

  “Do you fight alone, or do you fight with the savage?” Unus asked.

  “I cannot speak for the mute, but I accept your challenge,” Finster replied. He began feeding himself with the scarab’s power. His green veins rose underneath his skin and brightened. The Black Tower quaked. The magi stumbled and caught their balance as the tower started to spin. “Do you want to fight me one at a time or all three at once?”

  The sorcerers of the Violet Citadel spread out. All of their fingers glowed with red fire that lit up their finger bones. Richter aimed his hands at Finster. With a flick of his fingers, a bright bolt of energy shot out.

  Using his control over the elements, Finster brought a stone up from the floor, blocking the attack. The rock burst into several large chunks. “Is that all you have, Richter? A little fire from your fingers? You’re going to need a more potent attack than that.” Using his telekinetic abilities, Finster launched a hunk of stone at Richter.


  Richter flicked up a palm. A shield of energy with a red-pink hue formed an oval dome in front of him. The rock skipped away from the shield and smacked into the battlements. He fired another bolt of energy through the shield.

  Finster lifted another wall of stones between them. The wall absorbed the fiery shot’s jarring impact. It also blocked Finster’s view of Richter. He scanned the rooftop for Unus and Elam. Elam stood where he had been. Finster sent a rock at the man. The rectangular block went right through him. Elam smiled at Finster.

  Unus, standing to the left of Elam, smiled broadly. “Master of the Inanimate,” he said to Finster. “We are more than prepared for this encounter. It’s not too late to surrender.”

  “Surrender and die on mystic gallows? I don’t think so!” Finster pulled ground up from underneath Unus’s feet. The sorcerer stumbled and fell flat on his backside. Finster lifted a block from the ground and prepared to smash Unus in the face with it.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Elam running right at him at alarming speed. The older sorcerer’s hands unleashed strands of spreading red fire. Finster lifted a row of blocks between them. The webbing of fire spread over the rocks and kept coming. Finster used the stones under his feet to lift himself out of harm’s way. A bolt of power thrown by Richter caught him square in the shoulder. Finster’s body quaked, and his hair stood on end. The taste of metal filled his mouth. “Shades!”

  Finster gathered more stones from the battlements and formed a protective grid of moving stone around him. Below, Richter flung red balls of energy at him. At the same time, Unus had pushed himself to his feet and had multiplied into more than a score of mirror images of himself. The blue-checkered-robed sorcerers were everywhere now. To make matters worse, Elam floated up toward him like a creeping old coot. He snapped the strands of fire flowing from his hands like whips. All the while, Moth stood where he’d been standing the entire time.

  “Will you do something, savage?” Finster yelled.

  As Elam and Richter attacked with balls of energy and lashes of fire, Finster blocked their efforts with stone after stone. They knew what they were doing. All three of them used different offensive and defensive tactics to keep him thinking while they probed for him to expose his weakness. They’d gotten him with one shot already. How much longer until they slipped a more fatal one in? He moved stone after stone into the path of their attacks while steadily drifting away, twenty feet above the tower’s rooftop.

  I am all-powerful. I will not lose to these fools!

  Realizing that he would need his full power of concentration, he lowered the tower to ground level. The tremendous building made a loud whump sound as its footers crushed back into the ground. He sped up the grid of blocks that began to orbit him like moons and planets. They caught the fires of Elam and Richter, keeping their efforts at bay. Finster tapped his finger on his chin.

  They are testing me. Now it’s time for me to test them.

  The Founder’s Stone served to magnify Finster’s mystic abilities a hundredfold, but animating objects had its limitations. At the moment, all he had were hunks of stone to throw at people like some sort of Neanderthal. There was nothing cunning or crafty about it, especially given the multitude of intricacies that came from using sorcerous enchantments. To a degree, he felt a bit crude. His tactic to battle the men from the Violet Citadel was lacking, and it showed. His strength had become a glaring weakness.

  Elam’s tendrils extinguished. His ghostly form passed right through the asteroid field of stone. He came right at Finster, saying, “The time to surrender has passed.” He extended his hand and spread out his fingers while placing his other hand over his chest. “The time has come to tear your heart apart.”

  An unseen hand reached inside Finster’s chest and clamped down on his heart with a burning squeeze. Finster’s back arched. He let out a loud gasp then screamed.

  CHAPTER 89

  The tower’s sudden drop to the ground made two horses buck and sent two knights out of their saddles. Osgald guided his horse over to the Black Tower and put his hand on the rock. He gave it a shove. Peering at the archway that led inside, he looked at Chet and drew his sword. “We are going up. River Knights, follow me!”

  The train of knights, accompanied by the two assassins, rode into the bottom level of the tower. Osgald, with Chet right behind him, led the way, driving the horses up the stairs. The knights cast nervous glances over the broad space of the tower’s inner sanctuary. One of them grabbed a burning torch from a bracket on the wall. Up they went, step by step, level by level.

  On the third level, Osgald stopped, looked up the next stairway that hugged the curve of the wall, and listened. A small explosion, something like thunder, rumbled above. “The wizards are at war. Be wary.” With expert horsemanship, he led his knights up the wide steps to the fourth level.

  ***

  Dizon held Rinny tight in her arms. They had moved down to the fifth level and hid underneath the stairs that led up to the roof. Now all she could do was hope that Finster didn’t turn the tower upside down. Her stomach dropped inside her belly the moment the tower hit the ground. Rinny let out a frightened squeak. “Hush,” Dizon said, clamping her hand over her daughter’s mouth.

  The fine hairs on her arms rose like needles as she stared outward. The vision of the wall and quavering torch on the other side was slightly obscured. She squinted. Without seeing someone, she knew some presence was there. Unseen eyes had fallen upon her. The beat of her heart quickened. Her hand fell to her dagger. Then, as suddenly as the feeling had come upon her, it was gone like a smoke vapor taken away by the morning breeze.

  “Mother, what is wrong?” Rinny asked. “You are squeezing me to death.”

  Scanning the room of arches, she eased her grip on her daughter. The clop-clop of horseshoes on stone caught her ears. She tensed. Pressing them both deeper underneath the steps, she said, “Be still. The knights are coming.”

  The River Knights noisily made their way up to the fifth level. Nervous hooves stomped the stone floor. Above, a steady cadence of explosions carried down the stairwell, echoing in the cavernous chamber below. Bright flashes of light came from above. A man with a low, commanding voice said, “First Rank, dismount.”

  Dizon, from her shaded position, took a peek. She saw half of the knights dismount while the others remained in their saddles. She was very familiar with the River Knights, each and every one a formidable man and very deadly with a sword. She’d seen Finster handle them with ease. She caught a glimpse of the River Knight bearing the commander’s insignia. She knew him. It was Osgald the Bold.

  On cats’ feet, the knights started the climb up the stairs. Dizon slipped out from underneath the stairs. “Osgald, stop!”

  Osgald’s eyes brightened. A crooked smile formed on his lips. “Well, well, well, what a pleasant surprise.”

  The knights snaked behind Dizon and dragged Rinny all the way out from the alcove beneath the stairs. Rinny squealed. One of the knights popped her in the mouth with a hand half-covered in chainmail. The girl fell silent.

  Halfway up the steps, Osgald’s eyes filled with recognition. “Dizon, is that you?”

  “Yes, Osgald. I’m honored that you remember me. If you value your life, I would warn you, don’t go up there. You know full well that your armor is only a weapon that can be turned against you.”

  “Aye, yes, I know this Finster. That night you dined with King Alrick, Finster locked us up tight as a fencepost. But we must do what we must do,” Osgald said. “My knights will keep you safe, Dizon. I suggest you stay close within their company.”

  “No, Osgald, you must listen to me. You know that Finster did not kill King Alrick. You were there the same as I. Where is your honor in a time like this? You serve the crown and not the slime wearing it.”

  “You should not insult the King of Rayland. It is a punishable offense, no matter where you speak it,” he replied. “Men and women have been drawn and quartered for less.”


  With her arms held tight behind her back by one of the knights, she managed to fight her way a half step forward. She could see full well in Osgald’s eyes that he knew he served a tainted purpose. “Don’t be on the wrong side of this, Osgald the Bold. You should join Finster and liberate the kingdoms from the self-serving leeches who only want and never give. Now is your chance to truly make a difference. The only other outcome will be your death. All of your deaths.”

  The stalwart knights cast their hardened eyes on Osgald.

  The River Knight commander lifted his chin. “Dizon, I appreciate the warning with all sincerity. Of all the women in the king’s harem, you are one of the few that had any wits about them. But alas, I have my orders. I am Osgald the Bold, not Osgald the Spineless. I will not sit on my backside while the fate of a kingdom unfolds. What began as a search-and-seek mission has quickly become a battlefield. The River Knights are men of action. We fight. Farewell, Dizon.” He lifted his hand and dropped it. “River Knights, ho.”

  Dizon’s heart sank as the brave knights, on foot, snaked their way up the steps with steely looks in their eyes. They were good men, as good as they came, but still subject to political corruption, honor bound by duty that only served to shackle once-free and good men. She watched the last knight in the rank take a quick look back at his comrades, salute, and vanish at the top of the stairs.

  CHAPTER 90

  Sword clutched in hand, Moth sprang at the blue-checkered-robed sorcerer who came his way. The broadsword cleaved the sorcerer’s body in half. The split face of Unus laughed out of both sides of his separating mouth as the shade of the sorcerer slowly dissipated.

  More of the copies of Unus closed in on Moth in a mob. Their fingers stung like burning needles. Moth chopped into them and through them with mighty long-handed swings. One image of Unus the Uncanny would fade only to be replaced by another. They blanketed Moth, poking and prodding him with stingers in their fingers.