by JD Franx
Katarina shook her head. “He used the chill spell to hold the rift open long enough to free them.”
“I did!” Sythrnax said from their left. He laughed as Ella whirled to face him. “And thank you, Ella dear. Your praise makes it all the more worthwhile. I thought it was rather inventive. Seeing as how your sordid fanatical creatures used their souls to seal the first rifts, preventing them from opening for longer than a minute.”
“We had hoped it was foolproof. You’re not supposed to be able use magic that powerful.”
Sythrnax laughed even harder. “It might have, had I not found the Ethereal Device. In reality, how can you make something fool proof when you are the lesser species? I knew what spell would hold the rift open long before I found the first seal. The Dwarven Gods’ device just gave me the raw power to do it. We Ancients always find ways to use powerful magic...”
A woman walked out of the tunnel. Like Sythrnax, she wore a mask and hood, covering her features. Ella felt her blood turn to ice, an irrational fear gripped her heart. “You just wait, dear Ella,” the woman said. “Until we find a way to free our real magic. You don’t know what real power is, witch. You never have.”
“Vikress Illara. The pleasure is never mine,” Ella said, offering a mock bow.
“Still with that witless tongue. I had hoped over a dozen millennium would have made you smarter.”
“No such luck, Illara.”
“Fair enough, Ella. I think I’ve heard enough from it.” Illara raised her gloved left hand and the black stone pulsed, tearing Ella’s tongue from her mouth. It hit the stone floor with a sickening thud. Desiree and Kat jumped forward, but were held back by Ella as she reached her arms out. Blood poured from her mouth and she shook her head.
The Vikress cocked her head to the side. “Nothing to say, dear witch? Too much time has passed, I guess. You forget what the Ancients were capable of, and now we have access to your creation’s magic.” Looking at the black stone sewn inside her new glove, she smiled. “It truly is a remarkable feeling to use real magic again, even if it’s not my own.”
Ella did her best to hold Desiree and Kat back, and with no other choice left, she pushed them back with her magic and attacked Illara. Two blasts of blazing white energy jumped from her hands. The Vikress swept them aside with her glove.
“Again, Ella? I detest using stolen magic,” Illara scoffed. Looking at the glove and black stone in her palm, she sighed. “But with this power taken from that... DeathWizard—I hear they are now called. I just might find it suitable.” With no warning, black energy tore across the distance, striking Ella in the stomach. She folded over, dropping to her knees as the constant bolt of magic sliced through her chest and skull, finally bursting into black flames across her body.
Kat screamed as Ella’s magic exploded from her burning body. Slamming into the amulet, the wave of white magic lifted Katarina from the ground, suspending her in mid-air.
“Stop her. Sythrnax!” Illara screamed, but he was already moving as his staff materialized. He met a flurry of wooden daggers as Desiree leapt to defend Katarina. Ella’s magic passed through them both, leaving them untouched as Sythrnax tried again and again to get past Desiree’s defences. Her daggers danced along his staff. Deflecting a strike, Desiree tilted her wrist and dragged her blade across Sythrnax’s knuckles, nearly severing his first finger.
“Pathetic dosa,” he cursed. Slamming his staff down, a wall of ice shot straight up. Desiree turned as Kat fell to the ground, barely conscious.
She picked her up and took her weight. “Let’s go, Mistress. You owe me that favour before we both die.”
Vikress Illara’s voice followed after them. “Both of you may run. By the time she learns to use that magic she stole, it will be of no concern to us.” Desiree glanced back in time to see both Illara and Sythrnax disappear into a tunnel on the chamber’s far side.
“Thank Assani’s dark ass,” Desiree prayed, as she realized they weren’t going to die. “You’d better figure out what Mistress Ella gave you, Kat, and quickly. How are we ever going to stop them if you don’t?” Kat stumbled and dropped to her knees amongst the rubble of the ruins. As Desiree bent over, Kat glanced up, her eyes glowed white with Ella’s power.
“I... I can barely hold her power, Desiree, I...” Without thinking about her own safety, Desiree gently grabbed Kat’s face in her hands. Her flesh sizzled at the contact.
“Listen, Kat. Remember your lessons. Let the power consume you.” Desiree winced as small whiffs of smoke curled from her fingers.
“I... can’t. I’m afraid. It hurts!” Kat screamed.
“Because you’re fighting it, Kat. Let in in. Now!” she yelled. Kat’s eyes calmed and she nodded her head.
“Thank you,” she whispered, and fell unconscious. Desiree peeled her hands from Kat’s face, leaving pieces of her fried fingers behind. Wiping her burns with a salve from Kat’s bag designed to help magical burns, Desiree wrapped her hands in clean cloth and lifted Kat onto her shoulder.
Heading back to the column stairwell out of the ruins, she muttered. “Let’s go home, Kat. All we did was for nothing.”
Out of nowhere, Kat exploded with uncontrolled violence. Desiree dropped her to the dirt before realizing she was having a seizure. She held her arms down until the shaking subsided. Kat’s eyes shot open and she grabbed Desiree’s bare arm.
Desiree heard a voice in her head. It sounded like her own and it took several seconds before she understood that she was the one speaking, her voice mixed with Kat’s.
“It was not for nothing. The prophecy has come true:...will see Black’s poured blood, returned to times past,” she said, reciting the final line of the Last Light prophecy. Caught in the throes of such strong angelic magic, Desiree translated the literal meaning as well. Her voice echoed, as if coming from some place far off.
“...Kael’s blood has filled the Animus Seal. The Ancients have returned.”
Chapter Forty-Two
“Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in.”
Robert Frost, The Death of the Hired Man, 1914
CORYNTH, CETHOS
The two hooded riders had been travelling as fast as their stolen mounts would carry them for weeks. The spare horses they had stolen from the small Taktala scouting party had died of exhaustion days ago, but it was small price to pay. They crested a small hill and were able to see the city of Corynth for the first time in almost a year. They raced to the gates, where they were forced to stop and submit to a search. Galen Vihr and Kalmar Ibess both pulled down their hoods and identified themselves, informing the guards of their standing at the University of Magic. Master Wizard Cradik Senne vouched for them both. As part of the increased security ordered by King Bale, Cradik was stationed at the Corynth main gate for eight hours a day. He smiled as he recognized his old friends.
“We thought you were dead. Welcome back,” Cradick said smiling.
“Is the ArchWizard here?” Kalmar asked.
“No. Giddeon’s not here. But the Wizard’s Council will be happy to receive you. Here,” he said, writing two quick notes and handing them each one. “You both look... different. Younger...”
“Thanks, Cradik,” Kalmar said, turning towards Galen.
The guards called for the heavy city gate to be opened. Galen’s horse refused to stand still, pawing at the ground and prancing back and forth. Its emotions mirrored that of its rider. Looking back down the difficult road they had travelled, he wondered how long they would have to prepare before the Wildland tribes began their forays into civilized lands. It was their duty to alert the University and King Bale of what they had learned about the imminent attacks, though they were unsure of when a full scale invasion would occur, only that it would. The Wildlands had declared war on the Blood Kingdoms for breaking the peace treaty. Galen and Kalmar had barely escaped the Wildlands with their lives. The tribes were no longer taking slaves, they were killing the enemy.
/> It was also paramount that they inform the representatives of the Blood Kingdoms about Kael and the threat they knew he would not be. Why his return was kept secret from the wizard community, Galen did not know, but it would take a lot of convincing to prove to everyone that Kael wasn’t a threat. It was an argument he and Kalmar were happy to take up. One last look down the road before entering Corynth had Galen hoping that his friend was safe and that he had found some answers about who he was.
He missed Kael a great deal and would never forget what the young man had done to help them all escape from the horrific slaughterhouse prison of Arkum Zul.
ARKUM ZUL CAVERN DOCKS
“How are the retrofits coming along, Captain?” Sythrnax asked, as he stepped up beside Dominique.
“Good,” the pirate said, raising his voice over the clanging of blacksmith hammers and the gasping wails of their massive bellows. “The last cannon is going in to the Twilight Reave as we speak. The other six ships are about a quarter way done.”
“A couple months yet, then?”
“Eamon figures a month. If the crazy bastard doesn’t bring the mountain down on our heads first.”
“Marissa told me that the first two cannons from the mould exploded when test fired. It made my cavern bigger.”
“Yeah. He said his black powder mix wasn’t right. Says, and I quote: “Fecking Talohna, even the black powder is more effing powerful.” Whatever in the Nine Hells that means. Every cannon since has held so we know it wasn’t a casting problem. Crazy fucker always says it’s better to use too much than too little. Seems backwards to me.”
“Good,” Sythrnax said. “Thought you might like to know that Bauro’s here looking for you. I lost a dozen ships from the Flatwater Bay docks. My scouts couldn’t get to them in time to warn them.”
Dominique shook his head. “I didn’t think he’d find us that fast.”
“It seems he had help from a certain White witch who wants to eat Eamon alive.”
Laughing, Dominique scratched the stubble on his cheek. “Bloody Eamon. He’s the only hermit in existence who could piss off Talohna’s most powerful witch without ever leaving home.”
Dominique noticed Sythrnax turn his way. “Ella Navasha is no longer. I assure you. Talohna’s only living White witch might as well be an infant.”
“Your plans went well then? Your people are free?” Dominique asked.
“Some, yes. Five seals still remain. Everything went extremely well, and Ella the White learned what the Vikress is capable of.”
“So, the Ancients have returned to Talohna. This world will welcome you with open arms, most of it anyway. You have my thanks, Sythrnax. As you can see, I wouldn’t have stayed hidden from Bauro long enough to complete our original deal, let alone the time to complete the retrofits to my ship and the other six. Fucking Bauro. I had no plans to betray him. I was just trying to finish the job you hired me for.”
“I understand. My spies in Dasal told me nothing of Bauro heading this way, only that he was hunting you. The loss of my ships and men does not fall on you. As long as you remember our agreement and never turn these monster ships on my people, this cavern will be yours for as long as you want it. You can convert as many ships as you like.”
“From what we’ve seen of the effects of these cannons, six fully outfitted ships will be plenty for now,” Dominique said.
“Well then, how about showing me what all the talk is about?” Dominique laughed and waved Sythrnax forward. Turning right at a dock intersection, Dominique took the lead, walking past the massive Dwarven forges. All three were working steadily as blacksmiths and helpers worked metal, made sand castings, and broke open cannon moulds. At the far end of the docks, tied securely was Dominique’s flag ship, the Twilight Reave.
“You added a deck, Havarrow,” Sythrnax said.
“Mostly to make room for the cannon operators, Eamon calls them cannoneers.”
Sythrnax nodded. “You’re running two levels of six cannons on each side?”
“Yes,” Dominique answered. “Hence the extra level and other changes. And two chaser cannons at the front. They’re bigger, too.”
“Even surrounded, you’ll be dangerous. Just might have to ask you for a favour some day, Havarrow.”
“What are you thinking?”
“That once another ship is done, you head out and destroy Bauro BlackSpawn once and for all. If these upgrades prove successful enough to do that, I may just hire you to take my people home. Rumour has it you’ve been through the Jaws of Rock and Ice, the only captain to make it. Is the old kingdom still there?”
“From what I could tell. The beasts of the deep forced us to return before we made landfall, but the land was there. As far as the eye could see,” Dominique said.
“That is good news. Then when we’re ready, you can bring the Ancients home so we can begin our real work. The Sepulchre must fall.”
ARKUM ZUL
DOCKSIDE HOLDING CELLS
Corleya Bale sat in her cell at the far end of Arkum Zul’s cavern docks with her lady in waiting, Alia, sleeping beside her. Corleya stared out across the cavern and wondered if she would ever see home again. Almost three months had passed since she ran from the castle like a spoiled princess who did not get her own way. She shook her head at her own stupidity. The past three months had shown her a lot. Tribals, cannibals, spirit magic, pirates, and even a supposed Ancient being. She longed for the comfortable life at court her father wanted for her.
Heavy chains rattled to her left and she glanced over. Lycori occupied the cell beside theirs but she had said little in several days now. Bound by silver chains, Corleya knew that the simple act of moving caused her immense pain. Even though she was a vampyr, Corleya still felt sorry for Lycori. She had been nothing like the vampyrs she had learned about in school. Lycori was friendly and had tried to help repeatedly.
As he had done every day since they had arrived in the cavern, Damien Krass brought their noon meal.
“Up and moving, slaves,” he said, banging on the metal bars. “It’s time for swill and spit.” He laughed as Corleya frowned. His description of the food wasn’t far off. The watery gruel tasted worse than it looked. “You know,” he added, “you two could leave that cage if you swear allegiance to Captain Havarrow. He’s a good man.”
Corleya snorted. “A good man who is helping a very bad man? Maybe in your messed up world.”
“Come on, sweetheart. You made your point, you’re loyal to the vampyr. Fine, I get it, but enough is enough. You can’t sustain yourselves on this kinda food. It’s worse than we got from the savages down south. All of Havarrow’s men are eating roasted keske and broiled veggies. You could be, too.” He slid the bowls through the cage. Corleya handed one to Alia as she woke. Focusing on her own food and her growling stomach, Corleya turned her back to Damien.
“Fair enough, sweetheart. See you tomorrow. Same time, same place.”
Chapter Forty-Three
“The magic behind the Pillars of Rule is a puzzle to all, even myself. I understand the rituals, the language, and the results, but the magic itself is a definite mystery. The Pillars terrify everyone, noble or commoner, and I must confess they make the hairs on my neck stand on end. I have never seen them unleashed in order to save a king or his reign. I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t want to.”
ArchWizard Keenan Desolla,
Cethosian Royal Wizard. 3718 PC
CASCADE CITADEL, CORYNTH
“You will step down and surrender the throne, Joran Bale!”
Though the meeting hall was filled to capacity with nobles from all over the Blood Kingdoms, less than half cheered the demand made by Duchess Vakaran. “You have no heir. By the laws of the Bloods, you must pass the throne to the Grand Duke.” Despite only recently being handed the title of duchess by her dying father, the inexperienced twenty-year-old was well-known and respected amongst the Blood Kingdoms’ nobility.
“There is no need for the throne to pass,”
Grand Duke Sheering answered. “Not yet, especially seeing as we now face war with the Wildlands.”
“Princess Corleya went south. Everyone knows the truth. She is the cause of this war!” the duchess said. “King Bale can deny it all he wants, but it means she’s dead, or wishes she was dead if she’s in the hands of the Wildlands’ Tribes. We need a king not affected and influenced by personal loss leading the war efforts.”
“My daughter is not dead, Duchess,” the king responded. “So, no, I don’t have to do anything, least of all surrender the crown that has been in my family for over a thousand years.”
“Then you run the risk of starting a civil war,” the duchess barked back. The clear threat brought four Pillars of Rule to their feet. The third Pillar, the Wizard, was the first to stand.
“You speak words of treason, Tania Vakaran,” he said. “Be careful how you proceed. Inexperience is no excuse for your behaviour in court. The king has broken no laws and no terms of succession-surrender have been met.”
The duchess refused to back down. “There is no heir in this court, Pillar. Therefore, the Bales cannot sit on the throne.”
The second Pillar added her support for the king. “As Priestess of the Pillars of Rule, I can assure you that no laws of Man or the Gods have been broken. This monarchy is not in forfeit until the true heir’s dead body has been produced. Missing is not dead, Duchess Vakaran.”
Focusing her rage at the king, the duchess pushed harder. “You would rather risk war than step down from the throne, Joran? The law is clear, regardless of what your Pillars say. No heir, no throne. I am not alone. You wouldn’t win a vote of succession...”
King Bale leapt from his throne, fury radiated from his very being. “I will not surrender this throne until I have seen my daughter’s body before me and certainly not when the Blood Kingdoms are facing war! And if you yourself want to play war, little girl, then gather your bannermen and the other high nobles who will follow you. I fought and won two wars by the time I was your age, and I’ve fought against the most powerful necromancer who has ever lived, and not only survived, but won that war, too. I didn’t order my bannermen to fight for me; they followed behind me right to the very front lines of the worst wars in this country’s history. War is a game I know all too well! Decide, Duchess Vakaran, because this debate is over!”
