Legends of Ahn (King's Dark Tidings Book 3)

by Kel Kade

  Rezkin nodded and said, “That is our destination. The people that have gone missing are there. They have been captured and are in immediate danger.”

  “How do you know this?” Shezar asked.

  “When I fell from the pedestal, I did not strike the ground—at least, not here. Somehow, I landed in the forest. I was attacked by a few dozen creatures I could not identify. After I slew them, I followed their trail to this place. The missing people were in the chasm tied to stone pillars around a bonfire on the rock slab in the center. There is a cave under the ground on this side opposite the mountain. There is no telling the range of the cave system. It could even extend under this city. I believe the cave is inhabited by a large population of something, but I did not see what. Someone else was there, though. Presumably human. He or she was dressed in a hooded robe.”

  Brandt said, “So someone stole the people and took them to this place, but for what purpose?”

  Wesson spoke from where he had practically been hiding in the corner. “It sounds like a ritual.”

  Rezkin waved to him, “Come here, Journeyman. Explain.”

  Wesson shuffled forward, obviously uncomfortable with the full attention of the soldiers, nobles, and mages. He turned and spoke directly to Rezkin.

  “There are forms of spell casting that depend on rituals. Ritual spells are useful because certain artifacts or runes used in the ritual store much of the energy expended while performing the different parts. They can be executed over an extended period, so the caster does not need to be very powerful or risk depleting his energy all at once, as is a concern with traditional spells. Some rituals can even be performed by mundanes. In times past, it is said that rituals were used to commune with or make deals with the fae. But, there are darker forms as well. Obviously, I have never performed any, and I would not even know how, but I have heard that they involve demon worship.”

  Rezkin glanced at the mages. “Do any of you know how to summon a fae?”

  The mages glanced at each other, and then Nanessy said, “It is not something that is taught at the academy. While not exactly illegal, it is strongly discouraged. Some of the researchers summon minor fae to study under strictly controlled conditions, but one should never seek the higher fae, especially on their terms. Nothing good can come of it.”

  Rezkin might have laughed if the situation was not so dire. None of them would be standing in their new refuge without his deal with the ancient. Then again, they also would not be in this predicament.

  He said, “Alright, if we assume someone is performing a dark ritual, how do we disrupt it and rescue our people?”

  Wesson said, “It depends on how far they have gotten in the ritual. If it just starting, it is no problem. The pillars around the pyre—did they all have people tied to them?”

  “Yes, is that significant?” Rezkin asked.

  “Well, if it is a demon ritual, then based on what you described, it probably requires human sacrifice, and the pillars were likely arranged for the correct number of people. Therefore, it is reasonable to assume the ritual is in the advanced stages. The pyre in the center was lit. It could serve only to stave off the chill and provide light, or it could be a trigger.”

  Elemental Mage Morgessa added, “Someone could potentially store ritual power in the fire. If we douse the fire, the ritual could be disrupted.”

  Rezkin said, “What happens if we take the people without interfering in the ritual?”

  Morgessa narrowed her eyes at Wesson as though she might pull the information from his mind. “Perhaps nothing,” she murmured, her mind absorbed in her thoughts. “If the ritual is tied to their life forces, though, it could kill them. I do not know much about demons, assuming they are real, but the tales suggest they need bodies to host them in this realm. If someone is performing a demon ritual, it could be that he or she intends for whatever is invoked to possess the bodies of the captives. If this is the case, there is a good chance their life forces have already been tied to the ritual.”

  Rezkin said, “If their life forces are tied to the ritual, and the ritual is triggered by the fire, will dousing the fire kill them?”

  Morgessa pinched her lower lip in what appeared to be an absent-minded habit. “Perhaps. I cannot say for sure.”

  Rezkin said, “So if we take the people, we may kill them. If we disrupt the ritual, we may kill them. How do we disconnect their life forces from the ritual?”

  Wesson said, “Remember, this is all conjecture. We do not know that someone is trying to summon demons.”

  “I have reason to believe that is exactly what they are doing, so let us assume it is true. How do we proceed?”

  Life Mage Ondrus said, “We could reattach the ritual to something else, but it would have to be something living.”

  Wesson shook his head, “No, no. Who knows what the ritual might summon if we change the parameters.”

  Apprentice Life Mage Aplin said, “What if we capture the fire?”

  Rezkin looked at the apprentice who was a few years older than he. “What do you mean?”

  Aplin glanced at the other mages. Upon seeing Mage Morgessa nodding thoughtfully, he seemed to gain the confidence to continue speaking.

  “If we have a vessel that can store energy, something made from a mage material or possibly some of these crystals, we could capture the energy of the fire. The link to the prisoners would not be broken, but the ritual could not be completed because the energy would be trapped. We would still have to figure out a way to disconnect the captives from the fire, but we can figure that out after they are safe.”

  Morgessa said, “Yes, that would work, assuming the fire is the trigger.”

  Rezkin said, “Very well. Since we have little time, we will go with that plan. How many vessels do we need?”

  “I would suggest one for each captive, just to be safe,” said Morgessa.

  “Can you capture fire in these crystals?” Rezkin asked.

  The mages all glanced at the crystals on the walls. Morgessa shook her head. “We have tried. We cannot work with the crystals. They do not respond to us.” She looked at him knowingly.

  Rezkin said, “What other viable materials do we have?”

  Wesson ventured, “Perhaps you could try?”

  Rezkin frowned. “I am not a mage. What do you think I can do?”

  “I think there is enough evidence to warrant discourse on that subject,” Wesson said cautiously to the nods of his peers. “But putting that aside, maybe you do not need to be a mage. For whatever reason, the citadel responds to you. Maybe the power is within the crystals, and they will heed your will as well.”

  Rezkin shook his head. “We do not have time for this, Journeyman.”

  Wesson pulled a clear crystal from the pocket of his robes and placed it on the table in front of Rezkin. It was about the size of his pinky nail. Wesson opened his palm, and a ball of flame erupted in the air above it. Rezkin looked at the crystal and then back at Wesson.

  “This is a waste of time,” he said. “We should find another material with which the rest of you can work.”

  Wesson shook his head. “We do not have six vessels made of mage material that could contain fire. We do this, or we come up with a new plan.”

  The other mages glanced between Wesson and Rezkin with looks varying between trepidation and awe. They all knew Rezkin favored the battle mage, but Wesson was generally reserved, at least in front of them.

  Rezkin sighed and picked up the crystal. “What do I do?”

  “Whatever you did to light the crystals and open the doors,” Wesson said. “Only this time, focus your will on your intent for the crystal to capture the energy of the fire. Normally, it is impossible to capture an element like fire within another element like stone without changing the nature of the material, but it appears this is not a problem with these crystals.”

  “Except that you cannot do it yourself,” Rezkin said.

  Wesson smiled shamelessly. “Exactly.”r />
  Holding the crystal between his thumb and forefinger, Rezkin watched the fire swirl over Wesson’s hand. He thought about his desire for the fire to be inside the crystal. After an intense effort, he decided it was not going to work. Then, he thought maybe he had erred in his approach. He was not supposed to try to make the fire do anything. He was supposed to focus on the crystal. In his mind, he told the crystal of his intent for it to exist around the fire.

  And then he was falling. It was as though the crystal had opened, inviting him in, beckoning him to join with it. Inside, the crystal was massive. It was a dark world surrounded by facets that reflected and refracted the light around him. Above, he could see the sun shining brightly, swirling with powerful flaming eddies, but it was too large. Rezkin realized it was not the sun. It was Wesson’s ball of fire. He looked down at himself, or at least, where he should have been, but he had no body. He also heard voices. They were all around, but they were too large, too vast to understand. Then, one came through. It was a whisper, but it was clear as a bell.

  “Iréshke cadue, Spirétua pritehwa. Casue rienau flieska fontris mes.”

  Rezkin did not understand. The voice sounded patient but urgent.

  “Caheileian.”

  Again, he was at a loss.

  “Caheileian,” the voice repeated.

  It proceeded to repeat the word several more times, and although he did not know the meaning, he felt as though it was beckoning to him. He realized that he had made a mistake. He had allowed the crystal to swallow him instead of the fire. He gathered his will and drew his mind out of the crystal.

  “Are you okay?” Wesson said from beside him. “Rezkin? Can you hear me?”

  “Yes,” he said. “I can hear you now.”

  Rezkin glanced up and nearly dropped the crystal when he saw one of the shielreyah hovering inches from his face.

  Elry said, “Casue rienau flieska fontris mes, Spirétua Syek-lyé.”

  He stared at the shielreyah and willed it to speak Ashaiian. Elry grimaced and said, “It is dangerous for you in the crystal vessel, Spirétua Syek-lyé. You must remain on the outside, or you may never leave.”

  The shielreyah’s wisps seemed to separate into strands and then were sucked into themselves as he vanished.

  “How long was I gone?” Rezkin said.

  “Gone?” Wesson said. “It was less than a minute, but we were concerned when the shielreyah showed up, and then you did not respond to our calls. What happened?”

  Rezkin looked at the mage and said, “I fell in. I was inside the crystal, looking out through the facets. I could not hear you, but I could hear him.” He frowned and looked back at the crystal. “Unfortunately, he was speaking Fersheya, so I could not understand what he was saying. I need to reserve some time to learn the language.”

  “Should we come up with another plan?” Wesson said, absently bobbing the fireball up and down as if playing with a toy.

  Rezkin looked back at the crystal. What he did know about the crystal was that it had been empty. It was not a solid structure like a normal crystal. Inside was a vast chamber waiting to be filled. He also knew that the power was not within the crystal, but it was willing to take instructions from him.

  “I will try again,” he said.

  This time when he experienced the falling sensation, he held back. He refused to enter the vacant chamber, and instead willed it to absorb the energy of the fireball. He felt a tug, and then a spark blinked into existence. A trail of energy began to flow from Wesson’s fireball into the crystal. As the fireball shrank, the luminosity of the crystal intensified. Eventually, the fire in Wesson’s palm winked out of existence. Peering into the tiny glowing crystal with his mind’s eye, Rezkin saw a blazing inferno filling the chamber.

  Satisfied with the results, Rezkin looked at the mages and said, “It worked. This crystal is too small to contain the pyre that I saw, though. The crystals we use need to be larger, perhaps the width of a thump, at least.”

  Wesson and the other mages said nothing as they glanced between him and the crystal.

  “You know, the coin?” he said.

  Wesson said, “Yes, we know what a thump is. It is just that I did not really expect it to work. I have never seen fire held inside a crystal before, and I felt no use of power when you did it.”

  The other mages nodded in agreement.

  “You were right about the crystals being different,” Rezkin said. “I have seen the insides of other crystals, and they are solid. Inside this one is a vast chamber ready to be filled.”

  Wesson shook his head. “We have cut and crushed them. Physically, they are as solid as any other. You must have found some kind of vimaral reservoir.”

  Rezkin rubbed at his chest, adjusting the little stone that had heated uncomfortably against his skin. He glanced at the mages and then took in the others in the room. The strikers, army officers, a few of the swordmasters, and the Eastern Mountains chieftain and his second were present. Malcius, Brandt, Tieran, and Tam had also joined them, mostly because Rezkin indulged their curiosity and willingness to learn new skills.

  He said, “Alright, here is what we are going to do.”

  Chapter 19

  “Are you sure it’s okay that I’m here?” Benni asked.

  “No, but you are here nevertheless,” Adsden said. He looked at the anxious young man and then returned his gaze to the sentries. “The Raven favors you and so do Lord Fierdon and Count Jebai.”

  “Don’t see why,” Benni muttered.

  “You are the likeable sort,” Adsden said absently as he searched the faces of the few people he could see. He sighed heavily and said, “We need to know if he is there. We cannot afford any misunderstandings.”

  Benni said, “I don’t like it. It don’t make any sense. We’re thieves, but we’re gonna go in here and hand ourselves over to the army?”

  “We have instructions to deliver the count and countess to this fortress,” Adsden replied.

  Benni said, “Now that we’re here, why don’t we just tell ’em to walk in on their own, and we can leave with our heads?”

  “Count Jebai has said he will speak for us,” Adsden replied.

  “And you believe him?”

  “I believe that if we do not do as the Raven commands, it will not matter what the army does. It is better to take our chances with the count.”

  “Right,” Benni said soberly. “It’s like—maybe death or definitely death.”

  “Precisely,” Adsden said as he turned and strode back down the path to where Lord and Lady Jebai were waiting with the horses.

  “So?” Simeon said.

  Adsden sighed. “I did not recognize anyone, but it was an unlikely chance. I do not make a habit of spending time with guards and soldiers—at least, not unless they are in my purse.”

  Simeon gave him a disapproving frown, which Adsden returned with a smile.

  He added, “Most of them are wearing uniforms. Some appear to be city or private guards, others are regular army. I would say it is obvious they are a conglomerate of deserters and rebels.”

  “Then they are most likely on our side,” Simeon said.

  “What side is that?” said Adsden.

  Simeon paused, his inner conflict playing across his face. Finally, he said, “I suppose we are all working toward Caydean’s downfall, for now. We can figure out the rest afterward.”

  Adsden shook his head. “That does not sound like a plan for long-term survival.”

  “No,” Simeon grumbled. “We are just trying to survive today. I told you, unless I see proof that this Dark Tidings has a legitimate claim to the throne, I intend to support Wellinven. We should have gone there.”

  “You know we would never have made it through. Wellinven, like the other duchies, has been under siege for two months. The army is not going anywhere. They are trying to starve them out. Here is a manned fort that has somehow been overlooked. These do not look like the king’s forces, but I cannot say that th
ey are friendly either.”

  Count Jebai looked up at the spires that could just barely be seen through the trees. “How is it that this Raven could have a fortress the size of the palace and no one knows about it?”

  Adsden said, “I do not know. The Raven is a mystery in every regard. He is a man of many means, but perhaps it belongs to Dark Tidings. I suppose we will find out when we get there.”

  Adsden pulled up his hood and ordered Benni to do the same. He rode at the front with Simeon and Lady Jebai side by side in the center, hoods down, and Benni in the rear. It had been a conundrum trying to figure out how to approach without getting shot through with arrows before they reached the gate. Four people could hardly be considered an immediate threat, but emotions ran high where treason was concerned, and frightened people sometimes acted rashly.

  As they approached, the wall patrols raised their bows, and a gate guard called, “Halt. Who goes there? Identify yourselves.”

  Adsden said, “Count Jebai and his lady seek refuge in the northern fortress.”

  The wall guard conferred with a comrade while they waited, and then a boy of perhaps twelve took to the steps at a sprint. After a short while, an older man wearing the splendid regalia of an army general appeared on the wall.

  “Simeon? Is that you?” the man called.

  Simeon’s withered face turned up, and he smiled keenly. “Greetings, Marcum. I did not expect to find you here—or anywhere for that matter.”

  The gates were opened immediately, and Marcum met them in the bailey. Simeon struggled to dismount after having spent so much time in the saddle at his age an in his condition. The month spent in the palace dungeons had not been kind. He turned to Marcum with a brotherly embrace, and the stout men had tears in their eyes.

  “It is good to see you, Brother,” Marcum said. “I had thought you dead.”

  “And I you,” Simeon said.

  Marcum grinned broadly. “I am not so easily defeated.”