The Silver Portal (Weapons of Power Book 1)

by David J Normoyle

  Zubrios picked up one of the crystals, a large red one placed apart from the others. “Hakreel. Hakreel, it’s time. Get everything ready.”

  A comstal.

  Robin-crests followed the Lord Protector into the tomb, carrying lighted torches, which they attached to the walls.

  “Werac, bring the axe,” Zubrios commanded.

  On one corner of the stage sat the bow, the staff, and the sword, and Zubrios placed the ring beside them. Seeing that hurt. Were all of the bearers captured?

  The question was answered a moment later as Lukin, Mortlebee, and Suma were escorted into the tomb by five robin-crests. They were led over to stand beside Simeon and Twig.

  “Sorry,” Lukin said.

  “It’s no one’s fault. We did the best we could,” Simeon said. The five of them had never been intended as bearers. Perhaps Delaron and Huell the Giant and the others could have succeeded—the real heroes.

  “Is that Carew?” Simeon saw who placed the axe with the other weapons.

  “Meet Werac, the son of the Lord Protector,” Lukin said.

  “I see.” It hardly mattered at that stage, but anger still bubbled through Simeon’s blood. To be deceived like that on top of everything. “He fooled your ring. I didn’t think that was possible.”

  Lukin grimaced. “Delaron said it wasn’t possible. I guess he was wrong.”

  “Anything else of interest you can tell me about the weapons or the bearers?” Zubrios asked Werac.

  “The staffbearer has no magical ability and thus can’t use his staff. The axebearer...” Werac swallowed. “Nothing else of use.”

  “The staffbearer can’t use his staff. Interesting. Perhaps that can be useful to me. Gromley, bring him to me.”

  A voice came out of the comstal. “We are ready on this side.”

  “Perfect. Form a beacon with your magic so I’ll be easily able to find you,” Zubrios said into the comstal then set it down.

  The hawk-crest, Gromley, came over to Simeon and used a knife to cut his bonds. Simeon let out a gasp as blood filled with tiny razor blades flowed down his arms and into his hands. Gromley grabbed Simeon’s arm and pulled him roughly to his feet. Simeon staggered then allowed himself to be dragged toward the stage. Gromley shoved Simeon into a sitting position beside the five weapons.

  Gromley seemed an important figure to the Lord Protector, yet he was only a hawk-crest. Simeon wondered if only magic users could become eagle-crests. Zubrios was already putting magic users ahead of non–magic users, the very thing that caused the need for the Grell Barrier, yet Zubrios had talked about magic and non–magic users living in harmony. As Twig had sensed, he was a liar, and once Zubrios created the silver portal, things would surely get much worse.

  Zubrios raised his hands before himself. A small dark cloud formed in front of the far wall. The center of the cloud whirled, and the cloud expanded into a disk, similar to the portal Bylanter had created only much bigger. Bylanter’s portal couldn’t have fit a horse, but Zubrios’s reached from the ceiling to the floor and could accommodate a horse and cart.

  The color of the portal lightened to a much paler gray. Zubrios’s fingers trembled, and he closed his eyes. “Have the staffbearer take hold of his staff.”

  Simeon knew Zubrios wanted to use him to unlock the magic of the weapons so he could add that magic to that which he was already drawing from the crystals. Simeon didn’t want to help him, but taking hold of his weapon felt right, so he did. He didn’t have much to lose—Gromley or Ull Axilium would have forced him if he refused.

  Simeon stepped up onto the platform and took the staff in both hands and raised it above his head, unsure what possessed him to do so. He shuddered involuntarily as something flowed through him. A smile crept into Zubrios’s face. At Simeon’s feet, the other weapons rattled. The swirl in the portal sank deeper inside it, leaving the surface smooth and silvery, like a mirror that didn’t reflect.

  Simeon squeezed his eyes shut in frustration. The magic was flowing through him, and still he couldn’t sense it. He had become simply an instrument that Zubrios was using. I should have given the staff to Sierre and stayed in Pizarr.

  Then the hair on the back of Simeon’s neck prickled. He realized the air within the tomb was saturated with magic, and its source centered at two points. One center was in the weapons at Simeon’s feet, and the other was the sea of glittering crystals.

  A center. That had been what Sierre had wanted Simeon to sense in the magic crystals. If he could feel it, that meant that he had magical ability.

  Even as Simeon reached for the core of the magic, it faded away. My emotions, he remembered. They were key to accessing the magic. He concentrated on the feelings that had first brought him the sensation of magic: his frustration and, above all, his desire to be able to use magic, his desire to be worthy of the great power which had been bestowed on him.

  He reached again and felt the magic more strongly than ever. He let himself flow with the magic through the portal. He sensed the resistance of the barrier, like a great dam, but the flow of the magic was too strong, flowing through it and opening up on the other side.

  A great plain stretched out, leading up toward distant mountains. Waiting on the plain, close to the portal, were the most amazing creatures that Simeon had ever seen. Several giant lizards—they had to be dragons—lay curled up with their tails wrapped across their legs. Their heads were up and alert. One had black scales, another golden, a third multicolored like the sea of crystals back in the tomb.

  While the dragons immediately drew the eye, arrayed around them were many other fantastical creatures, all shapes and sizes and colors: red demons with spiked tails and green creatures with feathered wings folded behind their backs, the peaks of which stretched above their heads, doubling their height.

  There were more humans than anything else, but despite their strange and wondrous costumes, the men and women were overshadowed by the creatures around them. That, then, was the army of powerful creatures and magic users that Zubrios intended to bring across the Grell Barrier. If they came, Mageles would never be the same again.

  One of the dragons—the black one—uncurled his tail and stood up. Simeon exhaled. The great beast had been big before, but he became gigantic. The ground trembled as he moved toward the portal. The portal, Simeon reminded himself, I have to close the portal. The magic flowed around him, and he reached for it, trying to direct its flow, to dissolve the portal. He sensed resistance.

  “The staffbearer!” a voice said. “Stop him.”

  The voice sounded distant. The tomb. He forced his awareness back down to the other side of the portal just as Gromley stepped up beside him and grabbed hold of the staff.

  Simeon tensed, gathering his strength, and tried to throw Gromley off. To his surprise, the old man flew halfway across the tomb and crashed to the ground. He had drawn the power of the axe through his staff. That was unexpected. He smiled.

  “Ull Axilium!” Zubrios’s arms were rigid against his sides with his fists clenched.

  Simeon had to stop Zubrios’s portal. He couldn’t afford to be distracted by fighting the clerics. He reached down, picked up the axe, and threw it toward the other bearers.

  Before he could grab the other weapons, Ull Axilium barreled into him, knocking him backward, and the staff flew from his hands.

  Chapter 46

  “Be ready.” Lukin shook Suma’s arm.

  “For what?” Suma stared darkly at Werac, who wouldn’t even meet her gaze, the coward. Her initial anger toward him had become clogged up with despondency. What is it about me that causes everyone to reject me? First my family, then my prince.

  “Something is happening,” Lukin said. “Zubrios is starting to look strained. Simeon is doing something.”

  Suma turned her attention to the staffbearer. He stood with his arms outstretched over his head, the staff shaking in his hands. He hadn’t moved since he’d first taken that position. “How can you tell?”
r />   “The staffbearer!” Zubrios suddenly shouted. “Stop him.”

  The hawk-crest jumped up onto the platform upon which Simeon stood and grabbed the staff. Simeon wrenched his body, and Gromley flew through the air and crashed down to the floor.

  My axe, Suma thought. Seeing its power used—even by someone else—gave her a thrill. She could trust in that if nothing else. She tensed, waiting. Around her, the five clerics who guarded them crowded in closer.

  When Simeon threw the axe, Suma was ready. She charged at the nearest cleric. He stepped to the side, drawing his sword, but his step back gave Suma the space she needed. The axe hit the ground five paces in front of her and skidded along the ground, grinding against the stone floor. It had barely come to a stop when Suma’s fingers curled around it.

  The cleric’s sword was over his head as he prepared to strike down at her. She grabbed the corner of his cloak and pulled him downward. His face smashed against the rock floor, and the sword fell from his grasp. She picked up his body and threw him at the other four, knocking three of them over and driving the fourth back.

  Lukin picked up the fallen sword. “Protect the staffbearer,” he told Suma as he cut the ropes that tied Twig to the rock.

  Suma ran toward Simeon, but before she reached him, Ull Axilium charged into him, driving him to the ground and knocking the staff from his hands. Suma changed direction, heading for the staff, but Ull Axilium, using his supernatural speed, reached it first.

  He bent to pick it up, not seeing Suma behind him. Before he straightened, she grabbed his arm and threw him. He hit a wall hard, the staff rebounding away from him.

  “Watch out!” Lukin’s shout came just in time.

  She ducked as the hawk-crest came up behind her, swinging. His blade whizzed over her head. She grabbed his leg and wrenched. He fell heavily. She picked him up and threw him. He crashed against a wall beside the portal, falling unconscious.

  Suma stepped back, using the moment’s pause to scan the tomb. The surface of the silver portal shimmered, then a giant black head came through.

  She gulped. Is that a dragon?

  Chapter 47

  Everything was happening so quickly that Mortlebee was unsure which way to look. His legs knew which way to go, though. As soon as Suma knocked the clerics guarding them out of the way, his legs were carrying him toward the center of the tomb and the bow of power.

  When he’d thrown it over the cliff, he’d never wanted to see it again. As he’d journeyed with Lukin, he’d come to regret his decision. Inside the tomb, the weapon had been almost within his grasp but still impossibly far. He didn’t know if he was going to have to accept the commands of Zubrios—the man who’d sent Ull Lackma to starve his family—in order to use the bow again. That had seemed likely until Simeon and then Suma began to fight back.

  He heard a shout behind him and glanced back. Lukin had freed Twig, but they were trapped in the corner, surrounded by approaching clerics. Mortlebee couldn’t get back in time to help them, and if he picked up his bow and fired, he’d risk hurting them. So instead of picking up his bow, he picked up the girl’s sword.

  “Twig!” he shouted. He threw it high over the clerics’ heads. It flew end over end, and his heart jumped into his mouth. Before throwing, he’d worried about not being accurate enough—then he was terrified about being too accurate.

  She saw it coming, though, and moved aside. The sword clanged against the wall then fell. Twig picked it up, and within several instants, the clerics shifted from attacking to retreating. Two fell, one with a scream of pain. Lukin used the opportunity to race past them, running to Mortlebee.

  Mortlebee picked up his bow. He sighted it and felt for the string. It shimmered and disappeared. Negative emotions, he remembered, but they weren’t quick in coming.

  Lukin panted as he reached Mortlebee’s side. He put on the ring and looked around the tomb then gripped Mortlebee’s shoulder. “Simeon needs you to stop the dragon from coming through.”

  “Stop the what?” Mortlebee glanced over to where Simeon had retrieved the staff. Simeon’s eyes were closed in concentration, shudders running through his body. On the opposite side of the tomb, Zubrios also had his eyes shut, deep furrows running through his face. Werac stood in front of his father, his sword out.

  “That.” Lukin pointed up at the mirrored surface of the portal, which started to ripple.

  “Watch out!” Lukin shouted at Suma, but Mortlebee’s attention was fixed on the giant black head appearing through.

  The whole of the dragon’s head appeared and let out a roar that shook the tomb. An eerie silence followed the roar as even those in the middle of fighting took a step back to gaze in wonder and terror. The roar of a dragon hadn’t been heard in Mageles in ten thousand years.

  Stop the dragon. Of course that was what he had said—Lukin had been trying to get Mortlebee killed since they met, and he’d finally found a foolproof method. Is hurting it even possible? Mortlebee stumbled back and raised the bow in front of himself. He reached for the string, and it sprang into life, as strong as it ever had been. Apparently, abject terror was a good emotion for getting magic from the bow. Not a great emotion for aiming, though, for his hands shook, and when it burst into life, the point of the golden arrow wavered back and forth.

  The creation of the golden arrow, brighter than the torches on the walls, caused the light in the tunnel to flare brighter. Mortlebee had never created an arrow that substantial before. Unfortunately, its brightness attracted the attention of the dragon. Its head dived down toward Mortlebee, black flames spouting from its mouth.

  Mortlebee instinctively released. The golden arrow hit the flames and, in an explosion of black and golden sparks, the energy from each canceled the other out. The dragon’s head reared back, hitting the ceiling. Dust showered down. Pebbles landed on Mortlebee’s head, big enough to hurt if an angry dragon hadn’t had the entirety of his attention. His fingers fumbled until he grasped the string again. Once again, terror flowing through him, he summoned a thick golden arrow. A wave of weakness rushed through Mortlebee, knocking him down to one knee. He didn’t let go of the bow, though, the fingers of his left hand wrapped around its center. He pulled back on the string and released.

  Black fire emerged from the dragon’s mouth just before the arrow struck. That time, the black and gold exploded right beside the dragon’s face. The dragon’s head jerked back, releasing another bellow, that one a roar of pain. The head rapidly retreated into the portal. The surfaced rippled, and the beast was gone.

  Did that just happen? Did I just defeat a dragon?

  Before he could answer his own question, his strength deserted him, and he slumped to the ground.

  Chapter 48

  Twig watched the sword turn end over end as it flew through the air toward her. It seemed to travel in slow motion, and it couldn’t come quickly enough for Twig. For a second time, she’d been captured, and when she escaped this time, she wasn’t going to be caught again. Being a mouse was better than being a caged bird.

  She shifted out of the way and let the sword hit the wall behind her. She reached for it with her right hand but thought better of it and picked it up with her left. The ropes around her arms had been tight, and her right hand was still numb.

  The hand that held it didn’t matter. The speed was what she needed—she wasn’t skilled in swordplay with left or right. She dashed to Lukin’s side and stabbed the forearm of a cleric he was fighting. The cleric dropped his sword and yelped in pain. Twig dashed away and forward again, toward the blind side of another cleric, and, avoiding the armor, stabbed him in the thigh.

  The group of clerics who’d been confronting Lukin and her scrambled backward rapidly.

  Lukin lowered his sword and gave her a grin. “Nice.”

  “What now?” she asked.

  “I need my ring,” he said. “We need to get the crystal that was used to track us. The mage has it.” He nodded toward where Ull Axilium was getting
back to his feet then ran to Mortlebee.

  The feeling had returned to Twig’s right hand, and she bent to pick up a second sword. She dashed at the group of clerics again, striking at them with both swords then retreating. She did that several times, always appearing where they weren’t expecting her and dashing away before they could strike back.

  The clerics stayed close to each other, backing rapidly away whenever they had the chance. She had driven them all the way to the entrance of the tomb when a roar shook the walls.

  She turned. The head and neck of a black dragon had emerged from the portal. Fear slithered inside Twig, but she didn’t let it freeze her. She’d lived in fear all her life. She couldn’t do anything about a dragon, but she used the moment when everyone froze to dash to the other side of the tomb.

  Ull Axilium saw her coming and moved to one side. Twig matched his motion and thrust forward with both swords. Ull Axilium struck upward with his sword, and it caught the blade in her right hand.

  Twig’s right arm jerked upward, and the sword flew from her hand, smashing against the ceiling and rebounding down again. Ull Axilium smiled. She was outmatched—and they both knew it—since he had both speed and strength powers.

  The dragon let out a roar of pain, and its head slammed against the ceiling, raining down dust.

  Ull Axilium’s attention was drawn to the dragon, and Twig darted in, forcing him to retreat. She did so twice more, driving him back each time and retreating before he had a chance to counterattack.

  Gold and black sparks flew above their heads, and the dragon roared in pain and retreated into the silver portal. Ull Axilium’s back touched against a wall, and he surveyed the tomb then changed focus, charging toward the staffbearer. Simeon still stood before the portal with his arms outstretched above his head, his hands clenched tightly around his staff.