The Accidental Archmage: Book Three - Blood Wars (The Accidental Archmage Series 3)

by Edmund A. M. Batara

  The Incans, momentarily surprised by the providential event, recovered swiftly and started another barrage of arrows and spears. Small fireballs erupted among the attackers. This time, the projectiles and magical assaults inflicted casualties among the Aztecah warriors. Whoever sustained the shield must have been sufficiently distracted to forget about maintaining it. As Tyler saw the attackers begin to fall, he straightaway exploded his own small fireballs among the milling warriors. Before more dust obscured his vision, he could see numerous burning figures either dead on the ground or run around the battlefield.

  Suddenly a massive blast completely staggered him. He dropped to his knees from the impact, though his shields held. Then the entire hilltop was bracketed with fireball explosions and lightning bolts.

  Dazed and in extreme pain, Tyler found himself flying backward, thrown by the explosions crowning the hilltop. He found himself on his back, a significant distance away from his original position. He could sense the two AIs scrambling to heal him and rebuild his shields.

  “What the hell was that?” his scrambled brain asked. X apparently thought it was a question.

  “Elder! You sustained severe injuries. It’s under control now. You’re lucky the damage of spells decreases with distance. Otherwise, we would have been all over the place. In pieces, of course.”

  I guess X is getting better at graphic descriptions, he thought.

  “Ask Hal to rebuild the shields while you focus on healing,” instructed Tyler. He felt his mind clearing though his body hurt like hell. The mage cast a healing spell on himself. The barrage of spells hitting the hilltop had stopped.

  “They’ll be coming, guys, be ready,” he said. With the aid of his staff, he shakily stood up. I didn’t let go of it despite everything, observed Tyler. Or maybe it didn’t let go of me.

  Abruptly, a faint sense of fear descended upon him. He looked up at the hilltop. Three figures had appeared. Tyler tried to sense if they were deities, but the combined aura of power that emanated from the trio defeated his attempt. Nor did he want to use his affinity ability yet. He examined his opponents again as he made sure his barriers were in place. They were rebuilt but slightly weaker than usual.

  Two men and a woman, he observed. They looked like the Incans.

  But the three made no move against him yet. The mage assumed they were also doing the same thing. Assessing their opponent. The men flanked the woman. Both bald males were bare-chested with a high metal decoration around their necks. They wore capes, one green and the other yellow, and trousers which appeared to be made of hide, as well as leather sandals.

  Feathered decorations covered their heads and large ornate earrings dangled from deformed ears. One of the two men, taller than the other and with toned muscles, was scowling while the other looked at him with curious eyes. All three had mahogany skin tones though the muscled man on the right of the woman had a darker hue compared to the others. They were unarmed except for small black metal rods of about two to three feet in length. But the men had coils of rope strapped to their belts and their right hands were each twirling a set of short cords ending in small balls. Their left hands carried the rods.

  Shit. I think I know what those are, thought Tyler. I saw them on that nature show! Bolas! They freaking want to capture me!

  The woman in the middle was clad in a hooded red cloak trimmed in black. Like the two, she wore hide trousers and sandals. But she also sported a dark cuirass which looked like quilted cotton. Her face though was covered with a black metal mask, with openings for the eyes and nose, which hid the upper part of her face. In contrast to the two men, she just stood there, rod in her right hand, and observed Tyler.

  “Who are you? You’re not Incan?” asked the woman. Her shrill and scratchy tone tore at Tyler’s ear. But as the woman spoke, the mage could discern that she was the most powerful among the three and doubted if she was even mortal. He now knew the origin of the aura of fear. Even her voice carried it. The mage couldn’t understand it. An irritating voice yet capable of instilling fear.

  Magically induced fear, he concluded. Either a demigoddess or a minor deity. A powerful one.

  “I think visitors should first introduce themselves,” answered Tyler.

  “A courtesy then. Before we rip your heart out,” answered the woman. “My right hand, the champion Chipahua, the Crocodile. My left hand, the champion Eztli, the Blood. And I am Yayauhqui, the Black Mirror.”

  Seriously, what’s with the names? Definitely unfriendly.

  “Giving my name is fair play, I guess. Call me Saruman. The Third.”

  Right after Tyler gave his name, the two men rushed him, bolas spinning in their hands. Immediately, his guides defended, aided by the slowness of the attackers due to the magical effects of Tyler’s bracer. A beam lashed out at one, followed by a fireball. Instinctively, the mage threw three fiery blades at the target. The attacks of his guides shattered whatever magical defenses Chipahua had and Tyler’s fire blades hit him in the torso and his neck. The Crocodile of the Aztecah messily exploded, showering the area in red and pieces of flesh.

  Unfortunately, Eztli came within range, his bolas already in the air. Tyler thrust his staff forward to block it, but the throwing weapon’s target was lower. His feet. The impact of bolas as they wrapped themselves around his ankles unbalanced him. As he fell to the ground, feet bound, the onrushing Blood was struck by a blast from X. The mage also fired off one of his own. The spell from X tossed back the champion a few feet, the concussion from the impact evident on the man’s face. Tyler’s blast hit the now unprotected Eztli and violently threw him off the top of the hill, his body smoking. But the mage wasn’t sure if the champion was dead. It did take three powerful spells to get rid of the other one.

  Unexpectedly, the woman started to laugh. A manic fit which rose in crescendo. It was torture to Tyler’s ears. The mage cast a blast at the laughing woman while X added a second one. Even Hal threw a fireball for good measure. The laughter didn’t stop even as the figure was engulfed in flames and viridian fire.

  I am so uber boned, thought Tyler.

  “Males! Weaklings!” shouted the woman. She turned to Tyler, pointed her rod in his direction, and glowing sickly green and pulsing black tendrils flowed from it. The colors swirled around each other while heading towards Tyler. The mage placed the most substantial barrier he could manage in front of the incoming spell. He didn’t know what it was but from how it looked, it was dangerous.

  Due to the bracer of Hephaestus, he could see how the woman’s energy spell interacted with the barrier. It didn’t shatter the shield and the block diminished the power of the magical attack. But the green and black tendrils consumed the barrier even as it dissipated. Only a tiny green and black wave remained, but it flashed towards Tyler.

  Helpless, Tyler could only watch as the remaining tendril swiftly and tenaciously bore its way through his weakened shields. He was hoping X’s repelling barrier would have some effect on it, but as the situation showed, it seemed to only work on material attacks. The small wave struck his body. Immediately, he felt enormously weakened to the point where opening his eyes took a lot of effort. But what was highly alarming was the scream of X and the agonized sound coming from Hal. He didn’t think that was possible.

  “Guys! What’s happening to you?” asked the extremely worried mage.

  “The energy, Elder. It hurt us.”

  “I know! How could it hurt you? You are constructs, for God’s sake!”

  “We are complete in form inside you, Elder. In preparation for transfer to an external form. Pain receptors included. That tainted energy had an Elder origin,” X answered.

  “How can that be possible? You said there were no original Elders left on Adar?”

  “There are none. But we may be in error concerning the lost ones. One or more may be on this planet. That’s the only rational conclusion.”

  “But you’re fine now, right?” he inquired, concern evident in his question. One o
r more?

  “We are, Elder. Though that was an unsavory first experience,” answered Hal.

  “Well, we’re screwed now. Boned. I am helpless. Weakened to the point of immobility. And none of our attacks seem to affect her. I am beginning to think there’s a smelly and ugly old priest in my future with a dagger in his hand.”

  The hooded demigoddess was still standing where she was, a nasty smile on her face. Tyler couldn’t think of any reason for her inaction except caution. She apparently wanted to see if the mage still had some tricks up his sleeve. After a few moments, she started walking towards him, rod at the ready.

  “Guy! Do something! Freak this! I don’t want to see my life flash before my eyes!”

  “It’s her shields, Elder. A different configuration. If we can break through, then she’ll be the casualty.” Then X added, “Instead of us.”

  “Then try to do it! Or we’re all priest fodder!”

  Tyler cast another healing spell on himself. He felt a slight recovery. And invoked another healing dose. And another. The combined beneficial effect appeared minimal. All the while, the woman was walking closer. She didn’t seem to be in a hurry.

  Fucking melodramatic bitch, Tyler thought. But his recovery was slow. He still felt weak. At least opening his eyes wasn’t an effort anymore.

  As he watched Yayauhqui come closer with each step, he was sharply startled by a blast of golden energy hitting the woman. The glowing flare of power was concentrated and gave off a sensation of serenity and purity. It gave back Tyler some of his strength and he started to sit up, only to be defeated by the bolas entwined around his legs. He still didn’t have the strength to get to the binding ropes nor the weapon to cut them. The mage immediately thought of adding some of his offensive spells to the golden radiance shrouding the dark demigoddess but thought better of it. Tyler didn’t know if firing off any of his offensive abilities would interfere with the purifying flash. It did look effective against Yayauhqui.

  He turned his head to see who cast the spell and saw another woman in a form-fitting white and gold dress reaching down to her knees, an attire which emphasized her shapely form. A small breastplate of leather and metal squares was worn on top of the dress. Short tan pants reaching down to her knees and some jewelry on her arms and hands completed her attire. She was tall, with a light complexion. The recent addition to the unfolding tableau also wore a gold and silver headband with a long black ponytail. Clutching a carved ivory staff, she continued her glowing assault on the Aztecah demigoddess.

  Yayauhqui seemed hurt by the golden beam. She was doubled over, nearly dropping to her knees. Finally, she was forced into kneeling. When that happened, the energy directed at her changed into a cloudy white. It was as if it was encased in a transparent but elongating tube. Tyler could see it erupt from the ivory rod and strike the woman bowed on the ground. As it hit, the Aztecah was blown off the hill and followed her compatriot over the top.

  Concentrated wind blast, he decided. Nice spell. He lifted his body up by his elbow. The woman rushed to him.

  “Hurry, First Mage. Before they recover! They will have other mages with them when they come back. We can’t stand against a host like that!” said his savior.

  “Can’t stand. Feet bound. Weakened,” replied Tyler. It was a struggle to speak those few words. He could sense his alarmed guides still trying to figure out the strange magic Yayauhqui exhibited.

  The woman noticed the bolas. She brought out a small knife and tried to cut the cords.

  “Enchanted. Don’t move yet. I will have to remove the enchantment first.”

  Tyler felt a warm sensation in his legs and then sensed that the ropes were being cut. Unexpectedly, a great deal of the weakness lifted when the binding was removed. He cast another healing spell on himself. It helped. The woman pulled him up.

  “Quickly! Put your arm on my shoulder. I’ll try to bear your weight. Where’s Lord Viracocha?”

  Tyler tried to answer. His throat was dry. The words came out slurred and raspy.

  “Went to observe his temple. Companions are trying to free it.”

  “In what direction?” she asked. The two were starting to move downhill.

  “Left side of the hill. Your name?” He was already being half-dragged through the bush and his legs were failing to keep up with the pace set by the woman. But his focus was coming back.

  “Lady Asem. High Priestess of Thaut. And I know. It’s a man’s name. But questions later. We have to get out of here.”

  I didn’t know it was a man’s name, Tyler’s brain protested. Then apprehension set in. He suddenly realized the danger. Being dragged through thick vegetation, near lack of balance, weak, poor vision. The risk of tumbling down the rest of the way if his legs gave out or his feet got snagged by an errant root was very high.

  As the thought passed through his anxious mind, his right foot caught on something on the ground. He slipped and started to roll down the hill.

  The second he started to fall to the ground, carried by the momentum of his fumbling legs, Tyler saw Asem jump nimbly and gracefully to the side to avoid being entangled in his sudden rolling trip down the hillside. For his part, he made a desperate effort to drop on his side and avoid a broken neck.

  The rest of the trip downward was a revolving blur. Tyler closed his eyes and prayed he wouldn’t hit something hard. A hard impact answered his thought. As he opened his eyes, he saw his body had hit a tree though he didn’t feel any broken bones, only the impact of the sudden stop. But the plunge down the incline was painful due to small rocks and other protrusions.

  What a shithole of a day.

  “Guys, damage?” he asked as his world swirled around him in a vertigo dance.

  “You’re slowly healing, Elder. Though the repelling field helped in avoiding a broken ribcage or a severely injured back. Same as back in the cave with the rock, the field saw the onrushing tree trunk as a threat.”

  “It’s a pity the field doesn’t act on energies too,” replied Tyler as he waited for the planet to stop whirling around him. He closed his eyes.

  “We don’t have sufficient data to answer your comment, Elder.”

  And this part of the world is out of my coverage area, he sarcastically thought. I should learn to adjust quickly against these Aztecah. Viracocha was right. They’re much more dangerous than any I have encountered before. And that corruption taint. Add to that the fact that my guides could get hurt. That one I didn’t expect.

  “Any finding yet on that strange energy?”

  “We are still analyzing and trying to see how it is configured. It is raw Elder energy. But transformed, in combination with the natural energy available, into something dark. Strangely, some human element can be detected in its composition. Not evolved energy as with the original Elders. Powerful but not as potent as evolved energy in its many variations. It is the corruption which gives it strange effects. We are moving carefully, Elder. We cannot risk contamination of our systems.”

  Then the mage felt a hand on his shoulder. A healing warmth suffused him.

  “By my father, First Mage! I thought you had broken your neck!”

  Asem, the name came to his mind.

  “Can you tell if I can stand up without breaking something?” he asked, the difficulty in using his voice now gone, though he found some difficulty in breathing.

  “You won’t die if that’s what you mean,” said the priestess. “Come on, try to get up. I’ll brace your body.”

  Tyler slowly stood up. His staff gripped in his right hand and Asem lifting him on the left. With the mental fog dispelled, he could feel the priestess’s smooth and soft skin. Funny, I thought she’d be more muscled. And she smells fresh. Like a perfect morning.

  Suddenly, Asem stopped all her movement.

  “I have to let go, First Mage. Two individuals are coming,” she whispered as she took a ready stance with her staff.

  “They could be my companions,” he quietly advised. Though I didn�
��t get any message from the Incan. Or maybe that green and black energy scrambled everything. Or the several concussions.

  Then he saw Astrid emerge from the thick undergrowth, followed by Tyndur. The mage noted that the Valkyrie must have seen them already as she proceeded directly to where Tyler and the priestess were hidden.

  “Asem, stop. They’re my companions.”

  The two glanced at the recent addition as they arrived but made no comment.

  “Where’s the guide?” asked Tyler while giving the priestess a quick glance and a barely discernible headshake. He didn’t want the priestess to give away the truth that the Incan guide was a deity.

  “He left by another route, sire. But I think he’s a bit unhinged,” answered Tyndur. “After we cleared the main chamber, he told us to get out. A relief force was coming, he said. As we got to the entrance, I could see him burning everything inside with his fireball. No, not a fireball. More of a fire stream. He scorched everything inside.”

  “Any difficulties? Injuries?” the mage asked.

  “None, sire,” said Astrid. “They were only ordinary warriors and mages. Though I didn’t know Tyndur here had a berserker streak.”

  “It’s nice to cut loose once in a while,” countered the einherjar. “But that Incan mage really let everything go. Even when I told him I still could hear fighting in the lower temple chambers. I guess they’re all crispy dead now. The stone effigy of the temple god was smashed into pieces. Terrible sculptors they have here, if I may add. The Aztecah had smeared some sort of paste in the main hall. They’ve nearly finished doing it when we got there. Here, I brought a sample.”

  Tyndur held out a small covered clay jar.

  “It feels repulsively filthy. Even when in the jar. My entire being recoils from it,” he added.

  “I sense something spiritually repugnant in it, First Mage,” commented Asem.

  Tyndur and Astrid looked at Tyler.

  “She’s the Lady Asem. From Kemet. A High Priestess of Thaut. His daughter,” replied the mage to their unasked question. “My Lady, Tyndur and Astrid. My companions.”