“The Shadowguard are warriors. They have been lost before.” The ground rumbled, and Villia gave the hole an uneasy glance. “We need to get out of here.”
“But it’s only one hole,” Ziary said. “If we stay here, we can hold it against the army. They can’t possibly come at us more than two or three at a time.”
“Can’t you feel it? Energy is building in that hole. As soon as it’s enough, they’ll come through, at least a thousand of them, and these aren’t mortal beings. They won’t care if their form is destroyed. They will throw themselves on your sword so that the ones behind them can get a little closer. We’ll be overwhelmed.”
“But...”
Jez glanced at the hole and took a step toward it. Maybe if he could summon his wings, he could get back out. Villia touched him on the shoulder, and he jumped. He hadn’t seen her approach.
“If it was that easy, Shamarion would’ve already done it.” Jez’s mouth dropped open, but she waved away his concern. “I didn’t read your mind. You were tensing, like you were ready to jump in. It’s not really a hole though. It’s a conduit of energy, and it can only function in certain ways. Sharim was right. There’s nothing we can do to prevent those things from coming through. We have to do what we can to minimize the damage.”
Jez looked from the hole to Villia. Finally, he nodded, but he pointed to the king.
“Fine, but we’re taking him with us. He has a lot of questions to answer.”
Ziary nodded and slung the king over his shoulder. Between one step and another, he returned to Osmund’s form, and the four of them rushed out of the throne room.
CHAPTER 47
The keep was in an uproar. The shaking caused by the opening of the portal had sent everyone into a panic. The guards were nowhere in sight. Servants and the rest of those who had retreated to their quarters when the demons had attacked ran toward the exits. There was so much commotion that no one noticed the limp form of the king on Osmund’s shoulder. Rather than going through the secret passage in the dungeon, they just left through the main door. The grounds were unguarded, and a few people thought to go to the stables to procure horses. Jez and his companions, however, just stayed with the main body of people. The drawbridge was down, and they crossed the moat without incident. Once they were on the streets, the crowd thinned.
“It doesn’t look like the panic has spread to the city yet,” Jez said.
“It will. I suspect Sharim had some sort of mental working over the keep so that the people would remain calm. Otherwise the fear would already be out here. A lot of people saw the demons though, and it’s difficult to keep something like that hidden, even with mental magic.”
“If there’s that kind of working, why didn’t you detect it?”
“Sharim is very good,” Villia said. “Better than he should be at his age. Even instinctual magic can only take one so far.”
“Do you think someone could be controlling him? Or maybe he’s an afur.”
Villia pursed her lips. “He’s not controlled. It’s not possible to force someone to complete a ritual. They’re too complicated and the control offered by mental magic is too clumsy. As for being an afur, it’s possible. I’ve seen him age, but we’re not bound to one form, and growing up can be managed, but why would he want to summon demons?”
“Maybe he resents being forced to wander for so long.”
Villia shook her head. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“All I’m saying is that it’s possible not all afur regret rebelling.”
Villia sneered. “No, you’re wrong. We were all created with a purpose, and you can’t imagine what it’s like to have that purpose denied to you. You who left the Keep of the Hosts a mere dozen years ago and who will return within a century. We were banished millennia ago and are doomed to wander until our final judgment, never knowing peace or rest. We all regret what we did. Some of us have nothing left but the regret.”
Lina stepped between them. “This is all rather fascinating, but maybe the middle of the street isn’t the best place to discuss this.”
Jez glanced around. Nobody seemed to be paying attention to them, but that could easily be an act. He could see the same thought reflected on Villia’s face, and the afur nodded to Lina.
“You took your father back to the house?”
“I couldn’t think of anywhere else to go.”
Villia nodded. “It will be cramped with all of us in there, but it’s a start.”
“Can you hide the king?” Jez asked.
Lina eyed Haziel’s limp form. She started to nod but shook her head instead. “The illusions in the throne room took all I had.”
“I can do it,” Villia said.
She waved a hand, and the king vanished. That drew startled glances from those around them, but just then, the ground rumbled and red smoke billowed from the keep. Villia went pale as a wave of sulfuric scent washed over Jez. His blood went cold.
“Does that mean what I think it means?”
Villia nodded. “The army has started coming through the hole.”
CHAPTER 48
The room had been tight with only four people in it. With six, they could barely fit. Varin huddled in a corner, hugging his knees and shaking back and forth. Lina knelt by his side, trying to comfort him. The king did nothing on his own. He would walk if led by the hand. If not, he would just stand still with a blank expression on his face. He alone seemed not to be bothered by the heat of so many people crammed into such a small room.
“Do we really have to hide in here?” Jez asked. “With their army arriving, they wouldn’t bother looking for us.”
“We’re the only thing that’s a threat to them,” Villia said. “If they’re not looking for us, they soon will be.”
“A threat?” Osmund asked. “Last time we outnumbered them and we had a pharim with us.” He glanced from Jez to Villia. “We had at least one, and we barely made it out of there alive. What kind of threat could we possibly be to them?”
Villia gave Osmund a level look before gesturing toward Jez. “What kind of threat could an untrained boy pose to the demon lord of nightmares?”
“That was different,” Jez said. “I fought Marrowit in the dream world. I wasn’t limited by human flesh.”
“What are you talking about?” Lina asked. “That demon was destroyed by a contingent of pyromages when Mount Carcer was about to erupt.”
Jez, Osmund, and Villia looked at each other, but no one said anything. Lina’s expression went from confused to angry. She glared at Jez. “What’s going on? Who are you?”
Villia put a hand on her shoulder, but she drew away. “No, there’s more happening here.” Lina turned her gaze to Osmund. “I thought you were the freak, but neither of you are ordinary mages, are you?”
“Lina.”
Villia’s voice was gentle, and a warmth blossomed in Jez’s chest. He could feel himself calming, but Lina’s face twisted in a scowl. “Don’t try that manipulation with me.”
Villia nodded, and when she spoke again, her voice was back to normal. “Forgive me. You have been thrust into a situation greater than most people ever experience. You’ve done remarkably well thus far, but perhaps you should take your father and go. Whatever danger follows us is unlikely to come after you once we’re separated.” She looked to Jez and Osmund, both of whom nodded. “I think we can get you out if we work together. You’ll be safe.”
“Until a demon army takes over Ashtar, you mean.”
Villia inclined her head. “It’s possible the army will still be stopped.”
She pointed at Jez. She was nearly screeching. “You want me to go, but him to stay? He’s just a peasant who was raised to the nobility by a traitor baron.”
Jez tense his muscles but calmed at Villia’s look. “He is a mage, and as you pointed out, he’s no ordinary one.”
She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. Her skin cleared of the dirt smudges, and her clothes strai
ghtened and looked freshly washed. The scar faded from her face. She opened her eyes, but shook her head, and her illusions faded. She let out a soft laugh.
“It’s a little silly, isn’t it? Taking comfort in looking like that.”
Villia smiled. “We find peace where we can.”
She shook her head. “I’m a mage too. What can I do to help?”
“Nothing,” Osmund said before anyone else could respond.
“I did save your life less than an hour ago.”
Osmund glowered but didn’t say anything. Villia shook her head. “You’re not exactly a battlemage.”
“Neither is Sharim.”
Villia and Lina looked at each other for a long time before Villia turned to Jez. “Well?”
“Well what?”
“It’s up to you. Do we bring her with us?”
“Him?” Lina cried out.
“Me?” Jez said at almost the same instant.
“You are...” Villia’s eyes flickered to Lina. “What you are, and I am what I am. If anyone makes this decision, it makes sense that it should be you.”
“But that’s not fair. He hates me.”
Villia turned her gaze to Lina. “Perhaps that is more a statement against you than it is against him.”
“But...”
She lifted her hand and Lina went silent. She turned to Jez, pleading with her eyes.
“Why do you want to come?”
Her lips quivered, and she looked at her father still huddled in a corner. She let out a long breath. “They have no right.”
Jez’s mind flashed back to the time he’d been standing over his father as he withered away under the sleeping sickness. Jez had managed to bring him out of it, but it had been too late. The greater part of Bartin’s soul had already been consumed by Marrowit. That event more than anything else had set him on his path to battle against, and ultimately destroy, the demon. He gave a slow nod. Osmund gasped, but Villia smiled. She turned to Lina.
“Welcome to the team.”
CHAPTER 49
“What do we do now?” Osmund asked.
“They’ve probably opened other portals by now.” Villia said.
“Other portals?” Jez asked.
Villia nodded. “He’ll use them to bring demons here more quickly. They won’t be nearly as powerful as the main one in the throne room, but they’ll all be linked to it. We need to find a way to close the main one.” He glanced at the king. “It would help if we had access to the royal magic Sharim used in his ritual.”
“Don’t we need the throne for that?” Jez asked.
“Both the throne and the king, yes, but as long as whatever is affecting the king has a hold over him, we don’t have either. Can you free him?”
“Maybe,” Jez said as he walked over to the king. “I saw what Shamarion did to the soldiers, but I need a better understanding of it before I try it myself.”
Jez put his hand on the king’s forehead and closed his eyes as he searched for a sign of what was influencing him. It didn’t take him long to find the web around Haziel. Thousands of strands latched on to both the king’s mind and his heart, and Jez knew that so long as even one remained, the king would be under the influence of whoever put the working on him. Any one strand would be so thin it would be practically impossible to see. It was only when they were together that he could see them. It was unimaginably complex, and tearing this away wouldn’t be as simple as taking down the circle around Shamarion. That time, his efforts had cracked the ceiling, and he couldn’t risk that here. If he didn’t do it right, he’d leave the king’s mind damaged and vulnerable to Sharim’s control.
It took him ten minutes of examination to find what he was looking for. He took several steps back and threw his hands toward the king, sending power into his fingers. A single spark, much like the ones Shamarion had used, floated forward and landed on the king’s chest, right where all the strands came together. For a second, to Jez’s mystical awareness, Haziel flared up as the strands were consumed by his binding.
The king looked up, his eyes widening slightly. Then, he doubled over and started to cough directly onto Lina. She squirmed, but there was nowhere to go in the tight room. After a few seconds, the king got a grip on himself and stood up straight, though he looked a little pale. When he saw Jez, he took a step back.
“What’s going on? Why am I here? I warn you, Baron, if you have captured me to get some sort of ransom, it won’t end well for you.”
Jez gaped at him, but a after few seconds, he started to laugh. The king’s face grew red, but his companions started laughing as well. After all they’d been through, the king’s threat was ridiculous. Haziel looked like he was going to explode with anger before Jez stopped.
“I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” he said. “We didn’t kidnap you. We saved you from Sharim.”
“Sharim?” The king looked confused for a second. “Villia’s apprentice? What does he have to do with anything?”
“I think you better sit down,” Jez said. Then, looking around at the crowded room which lacked any furniture, he shrugged. “Maybe just find a comfortable piece of wall to lean on. This is going to take a while.”
“Wait,” Lina said. They all looked at her, and she glanced at her father. “Can you do anything to help him?”
Jez nodded and walked over to Varin. He repeated his examination but shook his head. “Sharim didn’t do anything to him.”
“What do you mean?” Lina asked. “Look at him.”
Villia walked to Lina and put a hard on the girl’s shoulder. “He means Sharim doesn’t have any sort of magical control on him. What people see can have a profound influence on them. Given time, an illusionist can do terrible things to a person, and Sharim had him for hours.”
“But why would he do that?”
Villia shrugged. “Your father was looking for information about Dusan. Maybe Sharim saw him as a rival.”
“A contingent.” Varin’s voice was barely a squeak.
“You formed a contingent with him?” Jez shivered, remembering his own joining with Sharim. He’d thought it had been because they’d done it wrong, but now he wasn’t so sure.
Varin’s head moved slightly and Jez thought he was shaking his head. “He forced me.”
Jez blinked at him. “He forced you?” He turned to Villia. “Is that even possible?”
Villia closed her eyes but nodded. “It’s a vile thing. Through a mixture of illusion and mental magic, an image can be burned into a person’s mind so that they could think of nothing else.” She gave Lina a sad look. “It normally destroys a person’s mind. Your father must have an extraordinary strength of will to be able to communicate at all. It’s actually a good sign that he’s spoken.”
For a moment, Jez saw the ax descending toward his neck. The manacles felt cold against his wrists, and the blade gleamed in the sunlight. It hissed as it cut through the air. He forced the image out of his mind. Lina was rubbing her neck, an indication that she’d experienced the same thing. Villia eyed each of them.
“The image will fade in time.”
Jez wasn’t sure if she was talking about Varin or him, but he nodded all the same. Haziel was looking from one person to another, obviously confused, and it took Jez a few minutes to explain what had happened over the past couple of days. The king’s memories since being rescued by Jez and Osmund were fuzzy, and he had no memories at all after Lina had escaped. As they told the story, Jez found himself hesitating. He thought he’d seen Haziel angry before, but the red-face scowl that the king’s face had so often taken on under Sharim’s influence was nothing compared to this. Haziel’s face was completely still, but Jez could practically see the rage boiling beneath the surface. When the story was done, the king spoke slowly.
“They think to take Ashtar from me?” His fists were clenched so tight Jez wondered if Haziel’s nails were biting into his hand, and he half expected to see blood well up from beneath his fingers. “I won’t allow it.”
“Your Majesty,” Villia said, “there’s little you can do. I recommend finding someplace to hide. If we manage to take the throne room, we can send for you. If not, you should find a way out of the city.”
“No.”
Villia started. “What?”
“No, I will not run.”
“But Your Majesty—”
“I am the King of Ashtar,” Haziel snapped. He sounded strong, nothing like the shadow of a man he’d been only moments ago. “I will not surrender my kingdom to a boy who stumbled into too much power. Rumar still stands, and so long as it does, I am its king. That boy may have taken my keep, but I will take it back.”
Without waiting for anyone to respond, the king forced his way through them as he headed for the door. The movement so shocked Jez that he just stared for a second. Haziel pulled at the latch, and it clicked, but Villia put a hand on the door. Though they were the same height, Haziel seemed to be looking down at her.
“Remove your hand.”
“If you’re captured again, they’d regain access to the royal magic. I don’t think you understand the danger.”
“The danger doesn’t matter. Ashtar is mine. I am charged to defend her, whether that be against mage or demon.”
“But what can you do?” Villia asked.
“The four of you can’t stop this demon alone,” Haziel said.
“Do you know what happened to your mages?”
Haziel’s hand went to his forehead, but he shook his head. “I don’t remember. I fear they may be dead, but that’s not what I was talking about. You need an army. I happen to have one.”
“An army that’s under the influence of Maries,” Jez said.
“When they see me standing before them, we’ll see where their loyalty lies.”
“Loyalty doesn’t enter into it,” Jez said. “They’re controlled by magic.”
“Actually, he may have a point,” Villia said.
“What do you mean?”
Villia shrugged. “It’s the royal magic. If the rightful king goes out to his men and calls them into service, it may well overcome whatever working Sharim put on them.”
Veilspeaker (Pharim War Book 2) Page 15
