Fate of the Fallen

by Kel Kade

  “I’m afraid not,” said the marquess. “The latest is that the third evergate, in the southwest, was destroyed. Two others in the north and east are not responding.”

  “They’ve also been destroyed,” said Ijen. He seemed surprised when everyone looked at him for further explanation. He said, “One was destroyed by the enemy, the other by the high sorceress.” He flipped through his pages, read a passage, then muttered, “No, we don’t know who they are yet.” He looked back at the marquess. “Once the enemy gains access to an evergate, they can create a key, a map of its paths. They will be able to access any paths still intact.”

  “Wait,” said Aaslo. “Do you know who the enemy is?”

  “Ah, no,” said Ijen. “We haven’t figured that out yet, so I can’t know.”

  Aaslo crossed his arms and turned toward the prophet. “But you’ve seen the prophecy.”

  “Yes,” said Ijen, tapping the book.

  “Then you know who the enemy is,” said Aaslo.

  “Ah, I’ve read the story.”

  Aaslo growled. “Well, who is it?”

  Ijen shook his head. “I can’t say. I won’t know that until”—he flipped through the pages, then pressed his finger to one of them—“here”—he flipped again—“or here. Actually, in most of the lines, you find out before I do.”

  Everyone stared at him; then Teza shouted, “See? I told you nothing good can come of talking to a prophet.”

  Aaslo shook his head and said, “So, if they have control of one of the evergates, they can use it to access the others?”

  “Yes,” replied Ijen as he tapped his book. “It is one of their methods of invasion.”

  “One of them?” said Teza.

  Ijen shrugged. “It depends on the line of prophecy.”

  The marquess pursed his lips. “With the magi gone, the evergates are useless. We should destroy the rest. How long will it take for the enemy to create these keys?”

  “I couldn’t say,” said Ijen. “It happens differently in every story. They must key each gate independently. Destroying the gates may cause delay, but it won’t prevent them from creating new ones once they know the paths.”

  “Is it safe to assume that takes a while?” said the marquess.

  “It depends on the strength of the magi. Working together, the strongest of the present-day magi might require a decade of intense effort to create one. The first magi, though, were said to travel the pathways in an instant, without need of evergates. As the power dwindled with each generation, the magi lost the ability to independently travel the pathways, so they created the evergates. Now, there are barely enough magi with the strength to keep them in good repair.”

  “You mean there are none,” said Aaslo.

  “Ah, yes,” Ijen said, “I suppose we have arrived at that part.”

  Aaslo said, “The high sorceress told me the foreign magus she fought the first night was much stronger than she. We should assume they possess the ability to create evergates in less time.” He looked to the marquess. “Can you disseminate this information and see that the gates are destroyed?”

  “I’ll send out riders immediately, but without use of the evergates, the missives won’t arrive at some of them for many months. There is also the small problem of compliance. I am only a marquess of Uyan, and most of the evergates are kept by people in far more powerful positions. Additionally, I hold no power in the other kingdoms. I doubt the authorities in Mouvilan will consider anything I have to say on the matter. Many are hoping the magi will return. They may not be willing to destroy the gates.”

  “Well, hopefully we can at least secure Uyan,” said Aaslo.

  Ijen said, “It will be difficult without the assistance of the magi. It takes great power to destroy an evergate.”

  Aaslo threw his hands in the air. “So not only did they abandon us to our deaths, they left us open and vulnerable to attack? This makes our reason for coming here even more pertinent.”

  “What does the blight have to do with the evergates?” said the marquess.

  After the cheerful reception, Aaslo hated to disappoint the man. He said, “I’m sorry to break it to you, but we didn’t come here to cure the blight.”

  Greylan finally stormed farther into the room from where he had remained by the doorway. “I told you he was useless,” he hissed as he stopped beside the marquess. His tense stance and feverish glare radiated fury. “He will drain your coffers and leave our people to perish.”

  Aaslo met the guard’s accusation with defiance. “I didn’t come for money. I need power.”

  “You see?” said Greylan. “He admits it freely. He seeks to use you.”

  The marquess’s expression sobered as he stared at Aaslo with discontent.

  “I’m not here for the marquess’s power. I need real power—power like the magi. The high sorceress told me of someone who might join our cause if given an incentive. According to her, these … people … have power greater even than the magi. They’re called the fae. If I can secure their assistance, maybe I can convince them to help you with the blight as well.” He looked at the marquess. “You wanted a solution that didn’t require burning all your land. This is probably your best bet.”

  “Then, I again place my bet on you, Sir Forester,” said the marquess. “What do you need from me?”

  “Only information. The prophet says these fae are in Ruriton.”

  “I think I’d know if they were,” said the marquess.

  Aaslo pointed to Ijen. “He knows where to find them—sort of.”

  Ijen stepped forward. “I cannot say specifically. I saw many trees. It looks like a forest on the water—”

  With a frown, the marquess said, “Only one place in Ruriton might be called a forest. There is a tract of mangroves along the coast to the west of here. It’s in the middle of the blight. If there were any people, they’re likely dead or gone by now.”

  “Even so, we must search for them,” said Aaslo. “They may be our only chance for survival.”

  “I’ll go with them,” said Greylan.

  “That’s not necessary,” replied Aaslo through gritted teeth.

  Greylan said, “I don’t trust you to return if you do find this power.”

  “And I don’t trust you not to stab me in the back,” said Aaslo.

  The marquess interrupted what was sure to become a heated exchange. “I trust that you will return, but I still want Greylan to go with you. You may need another sword arm. Speaking of which”—he nodded toward Aaslo’s bandaged arm—“why did the mage not heal your injury?”

  Aaslo sighed. “She did. That’s why I’m wearing the bandage,” he added as he removed the wrap.

  Both men recoiled and then looked at Teza. She held up her hands. “I saved his life! He would have died otherwise. I couldn’t fix his arm, so I replaced it.”

  “With what?” said Greylan with a look of horror.

  “A dragon’s,” said Ijen with a grin.

  Both men looked at Aaslo’s arm again. “I didn’t think dragons were real,” said Greylan.

  “They’re not,” replied Ijen. “At least, not in this realm. It most certainly came from another.”

  “Sent by our enemy?” said the marquess.

  Ijen tapped the book. “I can’t say. That part of the story is blank.”

  Greylan crossed his arms and looked at Aaslo. “You slew a dragon? It looks more like he slew you.”

  “It was a mutual slaying,” Aaslo retorted. He tipped his head toward Teza. “Except that I survived because I have her.”

  The marquess shook himself free of the arm’s thrall and said, “I’ve had rooms prepared for each of you.” He tipped his head toward Teza. “You will receive that bath you requested. I expect you may need additional supplies. Master Remmy will be serving Sir Forester and Prophet Ijen. Mistress Keila will be seeing to Fledgling Teza’s needs.” To Aaslo, he said, “I would like you to join me for a private dinner this evening, Sir Forester, if that is a
cceptable.”

  “Of course,” said Aaslo, noting Greylan’s disgruntled scowl. “Though, as much as I’d enjoy the rest, I plan to leave in the morning. I feel like time is against us.”

  “Indeed,” said the marquess.

  “Um, I think we have something to say,” said Peck as he hesitantly rose from his chair, with Mory following his lead.

  Aaslo and the others turned to him. The marquess said, “Speak, then. What is it?”

  “Uh, well, Your H-high Lordship, sir, um … we saw the enemy, I think.”

  “Where?” said Greylan, suddenly alert.

  “It was four days ago, north of here, not long after we entered Ruriton.”

  Greylan crossed his arms and looked down at Peck as if he didn’t believe him. “It took you four days to get here?”

  “Well,” said Peck, “we had to go out of the way to lose them, and Mory can’t swim.”

  “Lose them?” said Aaslo. “Were they following you?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe not. But I was worried they’d come after us on account of we stole their magic things.”

  “You did what?” shouted Teza.

  Peck scowled at her and straightened the velvet jacket he insisted on wearing despite the heat and humidity. “We did it for Aaslo. I don’t know what’s going on, but we knew it was something important. We figured Aaslo was a part of it. So, when we saw these foreigners with monster guards killing people, we figured it might be useful to steal a bit of their power.”

  Ijen tilted his head as he studied Peck. “What did you steal?”

  “Yes, and what happened,” said Aaslo.

  “They’d set up camp near us, so we decided to check it out. There were three men, at least one was a magus, and a bunch of horrible-looking monsters. The magus was reading from a book in some other language and waving a stick in the air. I guess he was trying to figure out if any of the prisoners was also a magus because when he found one, the stick started glowing.”

  Teza said, “That’s not a stick, you dimwit. It’s a wand.”

  “All right,” he said. “The wand started glowing. Anyway, they killed all the prisoners except the magus. They questioned her about the other magi, but she said they’d all gone to another realm. Then, they killed her, too. So, we ran as far as we could.”

  “I thought you said you stole something,” said Greylan.

  “We did,” said Mory with an excited grin. “We went back.”

  Peck nodded. “Right. After we caught our breaths, we came up with a plan. Mory was supposed to be lookout, while I snuck into the camp. Only, he thought I’d been caught, so he snuck in too. But I hadn’t been caught. Neither of us was caught. Anyway, we stole the bag that held the book and the wand.” The last he said with a glare at Teza.

  Mory proudly exclaimed, “Peck did it. He’s really good at stealing things.”

  “Shhh,” said Peck.

  “Interesting,” muttered Ijen as he scribbled in his book. “What did you do with the stolen items?”

  “We hid them when we got to Dovermyer. We weren’t sure of the, ah, reception we’d receive if we got caught.” He glanced at Greylan. “And we got caught.”

  “Why were you skulking around the estate?” said the marquess.

  “Well, if Aaslo weren’t here, we doubted anyone would be welcoming the likes of us. That, and we didn’t know if you were on Aaslo’s side.”

  The marquess nodded and turned to Aaslo. “It sounds like you have two very loyal men.” He then looked to Ijen and Teza. “Of what use might the magical items be to us?”

  Teza said, “They won’t be of any use to you. Most magical items can only be used by magi.”

  Ijen nodded. “That’s true. I would be interested to examine the book. Perhaps we can glean a bit of their language. The wand might be of use. I wouldn’t recommend it, though. It leads us down a very dark line of prophecy.”

  “How is it useful?” said Aaslo, ignoring the prophet’s warning.

  “Wands are extremely difficult to make, which is why there are so few. Ultimately, though, they are just tools. Each is designed for a specific purpose. It sounds like this one is a scrying wand. It’s used to find things—or perhaps more specifically, people—of a magical nature.”

  “So, we could use it to find the fae?” said Aaslo.

  “Maybe you can use it to find me.”

  The prophet tapped his book and pursed his lips tightly, refusing to say more.

  “Tell me,” said Aaslo. “I should be the one to choose my path.”

  It was obvious Ijen didn’t want to say, but he finally relented with a defeated sigh. “It is said the fae are not completely of this world. We don’t know the nature of their power, so we cannot attune the wand to it.”

  “He’s holding back.”

  “You know something more, though, don’t you? Otherwise, you wouldn’t have hesitated to tell me.”

  Ijen tapped his book anxiously, then said, “It may be possible to tune a wand so that it understands the difference between the magic of this world and the magic of another. In order to do that, though, we would need something that possesses power from another world.”

  “I’d think the magi would have many magical things from other worlds,” said the marquess.

  Ijen shook his head. “Not at all. Most magi can only use the evergates to access other gates in this world. Only a few have ever been to another, and most of them did not return. It’s dangerous. Most realms do not support human life. Additionally, the path to return from another realm is not necessarily the path you traveled to get there. Even if you are lucky enough to find the path to a realm in which you can survive, you probably won’t find the way back.

  “Another problem with using the wand in this way is that you are looking for something alive. That means you would need to have something magical and living from another realm. I don’t know of anything like that in all of Aldrea.”

  “Does it have to be the same realm as the fae?” said Aaslo.

  “No, just something not of this realm.”

  Aaslo felt a sudden thrill of hope. He reached into the sack tied to his waist, where he had been keeping the things he couldn’t afford to lose, in addition to Mathias’s head. He pulled out the black seed Magdelay had given him and held it out for Ijen. “Can we use this?”

  Ijen’s face drained of blood, and he abruptly sat on the floor with his head buried between his knees. He gently struck his forehead against the book and mumbled, “Yes, that will work. I didn’t realize we were already on that line. It’s not too late, though. We can choose another route.”

  “What is it?” said the marquess.

  “It’s a seed from another realm,” said Aaslo.

  Greylan said, “You just carry those around with you, eh?”

  “I carry many strange things,” said Aaslo. He turned to the prophet, who was still crouching on the floor. “You tremble before the wind even touches your boughs.”

  Ijen blinked up at him. He collected himself and stood tall as he said, “The wind has wracked my boughs for decades. You can afford to judge me because it has not yet reached you.”

  Aaslo glanced at the book in Ijen’s hands. “Perhaps you are right, but I cannot believe there is no way to escape the clutches of this prophecy.”

  “Prophecy is absolute,” said Ijen. “One of the lines always comes true.”

  “Until one doesn’t,” replied Aaslo. “Maybe it will be this one.” He turned to Peck and Mory. “Are the items well hidden?”

  “Yeah, boss. Nobody’ll find them. Do you want us to go get them?” said Peck.

  Aaslo said, “Teza, is it possible to track the items? Can someone use magic to find them?”

  “Uh, I don’t think so. Not unless they have another scrying wand that’s tuned to such items. Why are you asking me? He knows more about it,” she said, pointing to Ijen.

  “He doesn’t trust me,” said Ijen.

  “Neither do I.”

  “He th
inks I might lie so that I can find the items and destroy them.” Ijen looked at Aaslo and tapped the book. “It’s okay. You’ll eventually realize I’m only trying to help.”

  “Help you into the grave.”

  “Help comes in many forms,” grumbled Aaslo. “Not all of it good.”

  “I agree with the forester on this one,” said Greylan. Everyone looked at him in surprise. “The items should be remanded into our care.”

  “You mean your care,” said Aaslo.

  “Naturally,” said Greylan. “I’m tasked with the security of the estate.”

  Aaslo looked back at the two thieves. Peck looked eager to please, but Mory was staring at the air beside Aaslo again. The boy seemed different from the last time Aaslo had seen him, but he supposed being attacked and watching a bunch of people get killed would change a young man. Unfortunately, Peck and Mory were in danger so long as they were the only people who knew where the items were hidden.

  He turned to the marquess. “My men and I will get the items. Teza will retain possession of them.”

  “Me? Why me?” said Teza.

  “Because without you, they are useless to us,” said Aaslo. “And, Prophet Ijen is right. I don’t trust him.”

  “Harsh, Aaslo. What happened to all that forester wisdom?”

  “Should I apologize for being honest?”

  “No, that’s not necessary,” said Ijen. “I completely agree with your decision. I want nothing to do with that wand or book.”

  Teza glanced toward Ijen with trepidation. “Well, now I don’t want them either!”

  Aaslo shook his head and motioned toward the thieves. “Come on. Let’s go.”

  CHAPTER 23

  Myropa wouldn’t know who was summoning her until she arrived. Most of the time, the gods’ calls felt the same to her. It had been easy when the only one who concerned himself with her was Trostili, but now others expected things of her. When she crossed the veil, she found herself standing in a puddle of water. Drops dripped onto her head and face, and she realized it was raining. She had never seen it rain in Celestria. She turned, looking in every direction, but she saw only the drab grey of rain and wet stone.