by Ben Hale
Water flushed. Shadow smirked. Then he disappeared. When he was gone, Water motioned to the floor. “You can have the bed, I’ll take the floor.”
“That’s very kind of you,” Lira said.
She claimed Shadow’s chair and turned to face the windows. From floor to ceiling, the windows provided a stunning view of the underwater coast. Fish swam about and sharks hunted. Colorful coral was visible on the rocks beneath, and an octopus was just discernible.
“Do you trust Shadow?”
“With my life,” he said. She raised an eyebrow and he allowed a small smile. “He likes mischief, but he would never put us in harm’s way. Why?”
“I just get the feeling he isn’t being entirely truthful.”
“You get used to that.”
She chuckled. “Yet you still trust him?”
He hesitated, and examined the conversation. Shadow had been evasive, but that could have just been Shadow being Shadow. Still, he knew Shadow well enough to know that if he withheld information, it was always for a reason.
“We can trust him,” he said.
Lira measured the confidence in his gaze and then inclined her head before facing the window. For a moment they were quiet, and Water tried not to think of the bed sitting just inches from them.
“I’d forgotten all that magic could do,” she said, motioning out the window. “A group of mages probably built all these rooms in a matter of weeks. On Renara, such an undertaking would have taken years.”
“Do you think magic could defy the Empire?”
She cocked her head to the side and looked to him. “You’re still thinking about Renara.”
“I can’t get the image out of my head,” he said. “It just makes me wonder what it would take to stop the Empire from ever doing such a thing again.”
“Lumineia is not ready to fight,” Lira said. “But one day, when the people stand united and magic is harnessed, perhaps we can do what so many could not.”
“And the Eternals?” he asked.
“Will stand with Lumineia,” she said.
He nodded, his thoughts drifting to the future. When Wylyn was found and dealt with, he wondered if he would be permitted to join the Eternals. The prospect thrilled and terrified him, but he lacked the courage to ask.
“We should get some sleep,” Lira said. “It appears we are going to be captured by the Ravens tomorrow, and I’d like to do it well rested.”
She slipped into the privy to change, and he discarded his nobles’ clothing. Once comfortable, he unrolled the small bedroll from his pack and lay down. The light orbs dimmed and a moment later Lira’s bare feet padded to the bed, followed by her groan of delight as she slipped under the covers.
“This is shockingly comfortable,” she said.
“I’ll have to take your word for it,” he said.
Her head poked over the edge of the bed and she smiled. “Thank you for letting me have the bed. I’m not used to someone taking care of me. It’s nice.”
He sat up and smiled. “You really thought I’d make you sleep on the floor?”
Her eyes softened and she leaned in, brushing her lips across his. The contact was brief but sent lightning into his toes, his blood beating in his skull and hands, which suddenly felt hot and sweaty.
He swallowed, but she’d already withdrawn, the bed creaking as she settled in for the night. His heart pounded against his ribs and he forced himself to lay down. He didn’t speak until he could trust his voice.
“What was that for?”
“We were married,” she said, the smile evident in her tone. “It’s only fitting you get a kiss out of it.”
He smiled, and rotated to face the wall of aquaglass. Lit by exterior light orbs, the sea was alive with silent motion. Although he lay on the floor, he’d never been so comfortable, and he fell asleep watching the fish swim past their room.
***
The next morning they dressed and departed the room. Once again armed and dressed for combat, Lira did not speak of their kiss from the previous night. Realizing she was guarded once again, Water tried to focus on their task.
Shadow met them in the tavern, yawning as he took a seat. He plucked a seared potato from Water’s plate and tossed it into his mouth. Motioning a barmaid for his own meal, he leaned forward and spoke in low tones.
“The Raven’s current guildhall is in the home of a noble,” he said. “You’ll reach it through the sewers, while I’ll come from above. Once inside, you’ll need to get caught, allowing me to get into the archives. Once I have what I need, I’ll help you escape.”
“This isn’t going to make them your friends,” Water said, fending off Shadow’s hand as he tried to take another bite.
Shadow cast a thread of darkness that curved around Water’s hand and skewered a bite. The thread retreated and Shadow caught the food. He flashed a smug grin and then accepted his own plate from the barmaid. When she was gone, Water stabbed his fork through two of his potatoes, stealing them back.
“I don’t need them to be my friends,” Shadow said. “Besides, the Raven has other information I seek.”
Water frowned. “I thought you were just going to get the map.”
“That too,” Shadow said.
He flashed a smile and then began to eat, and Water glanced to Lira. Instead of angry, the woman seemed amused, and he wondered if she’d just resigned herself to trusting Shadow. Shadow ate quickly and the group departed the Shark’s Tooth.
Once outside, Shadow winked to them. “Good luck.”
He disappeared into the crowd, and Water could have sworn a woman joined him at the last moment. As he disappeared, Water came to a halt on the waterfront. He laughed lightly and motioned east.
“Ready? I don’t think Shadow will get us killed.”
“You hope Shadow won’t get you killed,” she corrected.
He grinned and the two set off, winding their way into the city to the alley Shadow had indicated. The overcast sky heralded rain, and lightning crackled in the distance. Normally Water liked a good storm, but this time it set him on edge.
They ducked behind a building and found a rusted grate atop a hole in the ground. Removing the cover of a sewer drain, they dropped into the storm sewers beneath, and Water used a thread of liquid to return the grate to its former position.
As a coastal city, Keese frequently endured raging gales, the rainwater dumping off roofs and flooding the streets. The water sluiced off the streets and into strategically placed drains that funneled the water back to the sea.
Damp and smelling of mold, the tunnel gradually ascended with the terrain, rising toward the eastern side of the city. Water took the lead and guided them up the slope, the angle of the tunnel heading toward the Duke’s castle.
Their boots splashed through the water in the base of the drain, and he guessed it had rained some the previous night. Muffled thunder echoed down to them and the soft patter of rain came through another storm drain.
“Looks like we’re going to get wet,” Lira said.
“It shouldn’t be far now,” he said, stepping around the water pouring through a drain.
The level of water continued to rise at their feet, ascending up their boots as the storm mounted above. Thunder rumbled, and a flicker of light signified more lightning. The rushing of feet signaled the people were seeking shelter.
They reached the side tunnel Shadow had described and followed it to a dead end. Water counted the stones and found one that seemed darker than the rest. He looked to her and she cast her sword, and then he pressed the hidden trigger.
The wall swung inward, allowing them into the darkness beyond. In the gloom he sensed a large space, the basement of a noble’s manor. He squinted, but could not make out anything in the darkness. The darkness to the space gave the room a chilling air, and he shivered. Then he spotted movement and came to an abrupt halt.
A figure stepped from the gloom and came to a stop twenty feet away. Tall and robed in silver an
d black, the man was one they’d seen before, and Water cast his staff of water as he spoke his name.
“Serak,” he said. “I take it the Order is working with the Ravens?”
“The fragment of Water,” Serak said. “I’m glad you followed my invitation.”
“What invitation?” Lira asked cautiously.
“From Grena,” Serak said with a smile.
Water bared his teeth as he realized the woman had been a ruse, a feint intended to draw Water and Lira to Keese. His anger rose as he understood the truth, the village had been destroyed—not by accident—but by intention, to give Grena the chance to trick Water and Lira.
Another figure appeared at Serak’s side and Water retreated a step when he recognized the Dark Dwarf. Clad in black steel, Thorg carried the insignia of earth and fire on his chest, and he raised his hands to Water and Lira.
Flames exploded from the ground. As thick as Water’s wrist, the flames arced upward and separated to become bars, the flames so bright he felt the heat through his clothing. The blast of light revealed two dakorians and dozens of Ravens in the room, along with more members of the Order. They were arranged on barrels and crates, and sitting on the stairs, all looking to the cage of fire.
The bars had not been cast on a whim, the forged fire requiring time to cast and prepare. Their presence indicated the cage had been crafted for a specific purpose, to trap someone vulnerable to fire. Shadow may have wanted them to get caught, but this was not by accident.
It was an ambush.
Chapter 32: Father of Guardians
Serak regarded them with a look of triumph, his expression indicating he did not wish to kill them. At least not yet. The window of opportunity might be sufficient for Shadow to find the archive and return. Still, Water surreptitiously examined the bars of fire, the barrier spitting sparks.
“An attempt to escape would be lethal,” the Dark Dwarf rumbled.
“Maybe we’re just here to talk,” Water said, and motioned to Serak. “Is that not your intention as well?”
A ghost of a smile appeared on Serak’s face and he approached the cage. “You are the fragment of Water, a guardian of integrity and honor, unlike your brothers.”
Water bristled at his tone. “You presume to know me?”
“I know all about you, and the other fragments.” Serak began walking around the cage. “In your first millennium you killed a bandit named Balir in his camp south of Griffin. Twenty years later you, Fire, and Elenyr helped quell the Urdia rebellion.”
Water scowled. “How do you know this?”
“The next century you accompanied Elenyr and Mind to negotiate a treaty between Talinor and the new kingdom of Erathan. An assassin appeared, and the three of you successfully defeated him.”
On it went, Serak describing Water’s life as if he’d been there, picking it apart, the events he’d participated in, the conflicts he’d resolved—even the clothes he’d been wearing. He spoke of events from a thousand years ago and events from his first century, of events in the north and the south, the east and the west. Times when he’d failed and times he’d succeeded. The telling left Water angry and uncertain.
“How do you know these things?” Water demanded, rotating to keep the guardian in sight.
Serak came to a halt after circling the cage, a flicker of irritation on his features. “You must understand, for many of the conflicts, you were the resolution.” He smiled. “I was the cause.”
Water stared at him, and suddenly saw a different face, a man standing beside a rebellion leader, or the guard at the assassination of a king. The features were altered but not so much they were unrecognizable. Serak had been following the fragments for ages, using conflicts to elicit a response.
Serak smiled at his shock. “Did you never wonder why attacks occurred, always while you were present? Did you not question why events were resolved?”
His questions recalled a conversation Water had once had with Mind, where Mind had wondered much the same thing, and suggested a foe was working against them, seeking to test their abilities, their strengths, their weaknesses. Water had thought the idea absurd, but an invisible foe had indeed been working from the shadows, always hunting, always watching.
Water struggled with a rising fury as he realized he faced an ageless adversary, one that had orchestrated combats, just to test the fragments. How many had died because of Serak? How many pawns had perished because of Serak’s game?
Wars, rebellions, battles, Serak had been the unseen adversary, fanning the flames of anger until they became an inferno. And for what? Water clenched his fist at the realization that he’d been manipulated.
“How many have died because of you?” Water growled. “Thousands? Tens of thousands?”
“Dragons do not mourn the loss of the insects they crush—because they are greater beings.”
“And you think we’re greater beings?” Water growled, his voice rising. “That innocent people deserve to die?”
His body trembled with a desire to strike at Serak, and it took all his willpower to resist. Never had he felt such hatred, never had he felt such a desire to kill. Both emotions surprised him, but they roiled inside him like a living beast, prowling against his skull just as he prowled inside the cage.
“You cannot make us believe you’ve been the source of every conflict the fragments have resolved,” Lira said, placing a hand on Water’s arm.
“Of course not,” Serak said. “I did not have to be. A nudge here, a word there, and the nature of man was escalated.”
“Why?” Water asked.
“I was the first,” Serak said. “You were the last. Between us, we are the only guardians that have retained our sanity, which grants us a singular opportunity.”
“An opportunity with the krey?” Lira asked, her voice full of scorn as she pointed to the dakorians lurking in the shadows at the edge of the room.
“Indeed,” Serak said. “My beloved knew much about the krey, and knew the day they returned would spell the end of everything. The people would be enslaved and taken away, our lands destroyed, our world left desolate.”
His hands clenched and he felt the need to reach for the bars. He recognized the action might be lethal, but a darker thought had surfaced. With such anger in his chest, he could imagine ripping the cage to pieces, using the burning shards to slaughter Serak and everyone present.
Including Lira.
The cage held him bound, but he was not afraid of being trapped, or the captor. Instead it was a fear of self that stayed his hand. Water’s eyes flicked to Lira and caught the tension in her face, her expression finally cooling his rage. As the sheen of black faded from his eyes he seemed to regain his senses, and he realized just how close he’d come to seeing the slaughter become reality.
“Few know of these things,” Water managed to say.
“And for good reason,” Serak said. “If the people knew the truth, they would tear themselves apart. Still, their fate awaits, and the krey have returned. The day has arrived, and perhaps in a matter of weeks a krey armada will appear in our skies.”
“You invited them,” Lira growled.
“I did,” he said. “So I could be present when they return. If I had not, the krey might have returned after I had perished, and the world would not be ready.”
“We will stop them,” Water said.
The Dark Dwarf rumbled a laugh, the sound dripping with scorn. “You cannot stop them.”
Lira stepped to the edge of the cage. “You have no idea what we’re capable of.”
“Even if you could,” Serak said, his expression amused, “they will come again. Perhaps not in a year, perhaps not in ten, but one day, they will arrive. It is inevitable.”
“And so you stop fighting?” Water challenged. “Just accept your fate?” He shoved his darker impulses aside, burying it beneath a reminder of his purpose.
“I’m picking a side,” Serak said. “You and I are unique, and the krey value what is uniq
ue.”
“Have you forgotten that, to the krey, men are slaves?”
Serak took a step forward, his eyes lighting with triumph. “But we are not men.”
Water realized what Serak intended and glanced to Lira. He expected an expression of scorn, but it was worry that creased her forehead, suggesting there was truth to Serak’s words. Serak didn’t want to stop the krey. He wanted to join them.
“Think of it,” Serak said, approaching to the limit of the fire bars. “We are ageless just like them, yet we have power they do not know. They will want us. They will need us. To fight against them will only lead to ruin, and you will witness the death of your fragment brothers one by one, until all are slain, and you finally perish, alone.”
Serak’s words were persuasive, a whisper of truth that had led many others to spark the conflicts Water had resolved. He noticed Lira’s doubt, her eyes on him, and knew she questioned his resolve. By asking him to betray his brothers Serak had made a mistake, and despite the surge of darkness, Water began to laugh.
The sound rolled out of him, mocking and scornful. Serak folded his arms as Water continued to laugh at the absurdity of the suggestions, and the Ravens in the room shifted, the Order members scowling. The dakorians sensed the spark of conflict and drifted forward, hefting their hammers.
“You picked the wrong fragment,” Water said. “Mind, Shadow, or maybe Fire would have been tempted, but even they would have refused. You really think we’d fight to defend the people of Lumineia, and then abandon them? If Wylyn opens a Gate, the krey will destroy the Eternals, and the woman at my side has more strength than you have ever seen. You actually thought I would cast her aside to join you?”
“You don’t understand,” Serak said. “Staying with them will only invite their doom. Joining me is the only chance you have of saving those you care about.”
“Trust you to save them . . . or trust them to save themselves.” Water shook his head. “The choice is easy.”
He spotted a flicker of movement at the back of the room, a flicker of darkness that entered and dropped off the stairs, avoiding the Ravens on the steps. It disappeared into the shadows behind a group of Order members.
