by Philip Blood
But I couldn’t bring myself to harm the little saeran girl I’d known and loved. I remembered her little-crooked smile and happy laugh, and her compassion for Myrka when another would have let the Tarvos sorceress die. Something deep inside me started to boil.
Then Ziny slashed with her knife, catching me across the upper thigh and drawing blue saeran blood. In my moment of sharp pain, she had me distracted and leaped for my throat, her knife extended to stab.
Without conscious thought, my blade swept sideways in a move which was part of my past skills, a very deadly move. The thick and weighty Bowie knife’s sharp edge raced for Ziny’s throat. At the last instant, I knew what was happening, and tried to stop my natural reaction, but I was too late. The blade hit her in the neck, and Ziny’s little head leaped from her body. To my mind it all happened in slow motion, her head tumbling down, and then her body standing for a moment more before slowly falling to the side in an uncoordinated fall.
I’d killed Ziny. The thought rang through my mind.
Everything seemed to be frozen in time. The thirty-some necromages were waiting for a command to attack, The Dragon was frowning angrily, Medrod was grinning wolfishly, my companions were ready, but held in check by the numbers they faced. Morgain was snarling in triumph.
And that’s when I finally and truly got really mad. I felt the churning power deep in my gut surface through all the pain, and white hot anger flooded into my mind.
I turned to Medrod and spoke softly, holding on for only one more moment as I hissed, “You wanted to see me angry?”
Then I ran toward Medrod.
I heard The Dragon bellow something, but I did not know or care what the Archimage of Sheol had said, I only wanted one thing, to see Medrod dead for murdering Ziny, and forcing me to end her undead life forever.
Dimly I heard The Dragon bellow, “You will NOT slay him, not yet!”
I guess he was talking to Medrod.
But Medrod came at me with Caliburn ready for the kill.
“Desist, or I will end you all!” The Dragon commanded in an earth shaking deep voice.
But Morgain screamed, “Kill them all!”
And her necromages attacked.
Almost instantly, The Dragon’s black void flowed out again, encompassing many of Morgain’s necromages. Dark hands reached out of the stone and pulled them down, screaming, into the floor where they were never seen again.
Morgain howled at The Dragon, “You would fight AGAINST us!”
“I warned you!” The Dragon answered in a cold voice.
That’s when I saw Myrka send the largest lance of Derkaz energy I had yet seen her attempt, and it went straight at The Dragon.
He swatted it aside like a mosquito, and her blast struck the ceiling, causing many stones to fall, along with molten lava from the Derkaz heated rocks.
But I had to ignore the rest of the fireworks, Medrod was coming at me with Caliburn, and I was headed at him in a dead run. I dimly heard Morgain ordering her remaining necromages to attack The Dragon. That actually helped, now the Archimage of Sheol was busy, and so were a lot of Morgain’s necromages.
In the periphery of my vision, I saw a white armor clad warrior run into the room from behind Morgain. It was my mother, The White Enchantress. But Morgain sensed her and spun to face her attack.
The sorceress and the necromancer exchanged several magical attacks, but these were easily defeated by these two House Seconds, so they drew knives and met in hand to hand combat.
At another time, I’m sure I might have tried to do something, but right now I had only one goal, to kill Medrod for what he’d done to Ziny; my mother was on her own. I reached Medrod, which meant he was also near enough to try and separate my head from my shoulders with Caliburn, but I ducked under his swing and tackled Medrod, driving him backward, my strength fueled by my anger. I drove him to the ground like a lineman sacking the quarterback.
In grabbing him, somewhere I dropped my knife.
But he clouted me in the head with the pommel of Caliburn which dazed me, and I fell to the side.
Medrod regained his feet, and I staggered up. The blow had cleared a little of the anger from my mind, pain can do that. I leaped back away from Caliburn’s range.
“You cannot run forever!” he bellowed.
I saw my mother drive Morgain to her knees with a blow to the head with the pommel of her knife and Morgain was dazed and defenseless. But my mother did not strike the finishing blow; instead, I saw her start to put some kind of magical binding around Morgain.
All this was distracting me, so when I turned my attention back to Medrod, I was too late, his next downward hack with Caliburn got through. I tried to dodge again, but the blade cut down into my left shoulder about three inches. The pain drove me to my knees. Blue saeran blood spewed up and out of my wound, though it wasn’t immediately mortal. It was, however, severe trauma, and I was dazed from the pain. If I didn’t do something, I would bleed out in minutes.
Finnabair saw all the blue blood and cursed, and then she was running toward me, abandoning her attempts to bind Morgain.
Medrod tried to finish me off, but just before Caliburn could slice across my neck, and sever my head from my shoulders, I managed to believe there was a hole forming under me. The floor beneath me opened and I tumbled down a slope. Caliburn cut through empty air where my neck had been a moment before. Medrod was then forced to face the oncoming wrath of The White Enchantress, a mother who had just seen her son severally wounded.
But fatal wound or not, I was still pissed, and again I saw red. I snarled, shrugging off the pain, and then clawed my way up the slope and back out of the pit I had made to save myself from Medrod. I left a thick trail of blue blood behind me, but there was a burning need to get to Medrod in my mind, which overrode all other trivial issues, like terrible bleeding wounds.
Just as my head came up out of the hole, I saw Morgain coming at Finnabair from behind.
Hydan was busy with three necromages and Toji with two. The Dragon had a flock of them, but they were being pulled down by the black hands, and not one had managed to get close enough to The Dragon to do him any harm.
I stumbled to my feet and staggered toward Morgain, where I would get to her before she reached my mother. Morgain did not see me coming.
My mother had abandoned all her weapons, which did no good in the presence of Caliburn, and she was attacking him with blows from her fists and feet. She was very good and very coordinated. She did a spin kick which made Medrod stagger back and then fall. That’s when my mother saw me, and yelled, “No, Nick!” She turned away from the fallen Medrod and ran to deal with Morgain.
Warned by my mother’s call, Morgain turned to face me, and a wall of stone shot up from the floor right in my path, cutting off my attack. I wasn’t good enough with magic to react and remove the wall, so I hit it with medium force, causing pain to shoot through my wounded shoulder.
I turned in time to see Medrod coming toward me swiftly with a big sick grin spread over his face as he came at me with Caliburn held ready.
I moved back, which let me see my mother and Morgain fighting. My mother was a terror, and knocked Morgain down again, and then started binding her with some kind of magic. I also saw The Dragon finish the last of the necromages which were attacking him, and head our direction.
“The Dragon is coming!” I yelled, but that was all the aid I could give my mother, I was nearly falling down from the pain and Medrod was coming.
“Heal your body, Nick!” Hydan bellowed from somewhere behind me, obviously too busy to get to me.
I thought about his suggestion and managed to actually believe my shoulder was all right. I think the anger which was still hammering in my skull made me capable of believing just about anything I needed to in order to kill Medrod. I had a one-track mind at the moment, so doubts had little chance to sneak in.
I got my shoulder fixed just before Medrod arrived.
I believed a large bo
ulder from the ceiling was loose, and it fell toward Medrod, only to turn to dust as it came into the range of Caliburn.
Medrod smiled grimly, and said, “Time to die, wizard.”
I managed to leap back when he tried a cross-body swing which swept the sharp tip of Caliburn past my throat, missing by just two inches.
“Remember what I told you!” my mother yelled from where she was battling Morgain.
What had she told me? I thought back through my mind clouding anger and recalled she had suggested I use Caliburn against Medrod, even if he was wielding it. How in the Sam Hill was I supposed to do that? Everything I made would render to dust when it got close to Caliburn!
Everything I made.
That’s when I saw the dagger sheathed at Medrod’s waist.
I immediately feinted left, and he swung his sword that way, but I changed direction and came in behind it, tackling Medrod. I saw him concentrate for a moment, and then a look of surprise came over his face. He lost his footing and we both went down hard onto the stone floor.
“I will kill you!” Medrod bellowed, attempting to bring the large sword around for a thrust, but we were nearly chest to chest, and the sword was too unwieldy at this range to be an easy weapon to employ. But I had no such restriction, as I’d tackled Medrod I’d yanked his dagger from his waist.
I snarled in fury, and with adrenaline fueled strength I thrust his blade home, coming up under his ribs, and into his beating heart. This was no necromage; Medrod was a living, breathing person.
This was Medrod’s own knife, so it was kept real by Caliburn since it was part of his reality. The knife transfixed Medrod’s heart and his eyes bulged in surprise just as he started to say something. Then he gasped in a breath, and the life went out of his eyes. Medrod’s body tensed and then relaxed and Caliburn fell from his limp fingers.
Medrod was dead… again.
“About damned time,” I muttered, snarling into his dead face. I was still seething in anger, so I twisted the knife, making damn sure he was good and dead, and then some.
I scooped up Caliburn and then turned to find The Dragon still approaching. As he passed my mother the circle of blackness around him on the floor had flowed around her, but she held an island of normal stones below her feet, fighting back the First’s power for a moment. Those black hands were reaching up out of the floor, but could not reach her body, not yet.
That’s when Myrka arrived behind The Dragon. She leaped over the black circle, and seemed to glide in the air further than was possible; no doubt she had done something to make her body defy gravity. But as she came closer to The Dragon, that reality failed, and she suddenly plummeted down.
She let loose another blast of Derkaz, but The Dragon’s protections once again deflected the energy away.
Myrka landed on the black floor, as the dark hands grabbed her legs and took her down.
I saw my mother do a very brave thing, she ran toward Myrka, and the clear area of floor followed her. When she reached Myrka, the hands retracted into the floor, but Myrka wasn’t moving.
The Dragon looked back and smiled as he spoke to my mother, “You are strong, Albus, but not strong enough to take on a First, not indefinitely!”
I realized he was right, and I wasn’t going to tip the scales either; there was only one thing which could help my mother now.
I turned and ran from the battle. In my mind I could hear what Myrka would have said, ‘coward’, but I knew what I was doing. If The Dragon followed me, his circle of blackness would as well, and that would free my mother and Myrka.
But I wasn’t just running; I had a destination in mind. I felt for the sensation we had been following earlier and felt it ahead, and to my left. It took me to a wall, but I had the fury focusing my mind, and I realized there was no wall there, and there wasn’t. My passage opened into a secret room, and there, in the middle, was a dark smoky green crystal, with an indistinct shape within. It was the same material the now Deadrod had used to try and bind The Dragon.
I remembered Toji telling me how equal energy had to be used to undo some magic, and how Hydan had warned me of doing things the wrong way and releasing all the energy in an explosion, but I didn’t care, I was just too damned angry to worry about it.
Behind me, I sensed The Dragon coming.
I just imagined that crystal exploding, with everything I had in my anger focused mind. That’s when it did just that, exploding into ten thousand little shards, many of which would have hit me had my subconscious reality not been protecting me from that kind of fast moving harm.
When the debris was gone, a saeran stood there in a blue robe. He lowered the hood and opened his eyes.
“Are you the Archimage of Abal!” I cried out.
He looked at me and replied, “Yes, I am the First Wizard of Abal.”
“I have freed you from your Crystal Tomb, now DO SOMETHING! The Dragon and Morgain are out there killing my companions, and taking your World!”
Suddenly a massive amount of water welled up right out of the stone floor, and then it formed into a tidal wave. It picked both of us up on the crest and washed us out of the hidden room and into the larger audience chamber where the battle was taking place.
The Dragon was approaching, but at the sight of the approaching wave of water, and the First Wizard of Abal, The Dragon’s dark eyes looked up, and he gestured to the ceiling. Blackness flowed up in a column and hit the ceiling, which crumbled, falling from high above. The entire ceiling of the room started to fall, the damage emanating outwards in a circle from above The Dragon.
Morgain took one look at the crumbling marble and then turned and ran out a side door, and I saw my mother dash off after the fleeing Dokkalfar necromancer.
The stones were now about to come crashing down on all of us, or they would have, except my father gestured and a wide geyser of water shot up from the floor, and then spread out in a dome around us, forcing the stones to the sides away from all of us. When the stones stopped falling the Archimage of Abal cut off the water, but The Dragon had escaped.
I went to Myrka and knelt down. There was a weak pulse in her neck, and I started believing in her full health, picturing her as she was, standing ready to deal death at any moment.
Myrka’s eyes opened, and she sucked in a breath. Then she looked up at me in wonder.
“You healed me!”
I shrugged, “I knew you were healthy. It was something Ziny taught me,” I replied, tears coming to my dark saeran eyes, tears for the little girl I had slain.
Ziny’s little headless body was only a few yards away, but there was nothing I could do for her now. I could not take the body of another mage, just to bring her back. She wouldn’t want that. Even if I wanted to bring her back from the dead, and there was a part of me that did, I really had no idea how Morgain had accomplished that trick with Medrod.
The Archimage of Abal came over and said, “Your enemies have fled; I felt them use Morgain’s Portal. Now that I am free, I don’t believe they wanted to stick around, not when the rightful ruler of this World is there to oppose them.”
I looked at the saeran who was my father, and I have to say, he was damned impressive. There was a power coming from him which was hard to describe, it came from confidence born over long life, and a well of power deep within. This was an Archimage, and his power held this World together. If Hydan could be believed, he had created the saeran race and made the rules this reality adhered to; all done long ago.
“Who was the woman in the white armor who pursued Morgain?” the Archimage asked.
“The White Enchantress, no, don’t ask, she wants to explain it to you in person,” I said.
He nodded, and then asked, “And who do I have to thank for my rescue?”
I grimaced but kept my promise to my mother, “A loyal Saeran wizard. I was here to rescue that little sorceress,” I said, gesturing toward Ziny’s little body, “but she had already been killed by Medrod, and turned by Morgain.”
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br /> “I see, I’m sorry,” my father said softly.
I nodded and then said, “There is more, in the battle I had to slay your son, Medrod. Morgain had resurrected him from death, somehow, and he was attempting to stop us, and well, end us before we could reach you.”
The Archimage sighed, lowering his head. “It was with a heavy heart that I slew my son in the first place, but I did so for the good of Abal. How can I blame you for doing the same, again? My son was seduced by a dark power, to the point of insanity. I thought it was all because of the Dokkalfar necromancer, Morgain, but now I see she was only part of the plot against Abal.”
I explained, “It looks like The Dragon was behind the powers they were using to defeat you.”
He nodded, and said, “It would appear that way.”
“Now what… Archimage?” I said, stumbling over using a title instead of my father’s name, which I realized I’d never actually heard. Finnabair had always called him, ‘your father’ or ‘the Archimage of Abal’.
At my stumbling over his name he asked, “You don’t know me?”
I shrugged, “I know you are the Archimage of Abal, but I grew up on Earth, and I have little knowledge of things here on Abal beyond what I have learned in the few weeks since my arrival.”
“A Hidden Soul?” he asked.
I just shrugged, for all I knew I was a Hidden Soul; I had no memory of my past. Then I said, “My friends call me, Nick.” As I said it I realized these three mages watching this exchange were more than my companions, they were my friends, even Myrka.
The Archimage held out his hand and said, “Well, then since you are my rescuer, Nick, I guess it behooves me to introduce myself properly, I am the First Wizard of Abal, and my name is Merlin.”
Chapter Eighteen
The magician and the other so-called Gods of our legends'
Though Gods they were
And as the elders of our time choose to remain blind
Let us rejoice and let us sing
And dance and ring in the new,
