by Shannah Jay
Three in one, were they? They’d die together, then.
The circle of light around them shrank, growing smaller with each effort Pavros made, and then smaller again as each ingredient was laid out.
Ronan didn’t need to speak to know what his brother and sister were feeling. He could sense it in the grip that had tightened on his shoulders.
Tears ran down Kerril’s face as they struggled and he wasn’t ashamed to weep. If they were defeated, it meant not only losing his life—something he would do willingly to put Ronan on the throne where he belonged—but it would also mean that the people of Azaray would lose the last of their freedom.
If evil won, even the True Vale would be threatened.
It was the tears on Kerril’s cheeks which caught the apprentice’s eye, distracting her from her duties. It had been a long time since she’d been able to weep. She remembered how Kerril had saved her life on the river bank. During the past few hours she’d been feeling angry, jealous of how full of hope he’d seemed, and bitter at how defeated she felt.
Now, suddenly, the sword’s magic touched her, as did Kerril’s tears. She’d been hesitating, not daring to do it. But as the wonderful sense of joy and goodness touched her, she knew what she must do. Even if she failed, this was a way to end her own dreary servitude, while if she succeeded she would be helping a young man who had radiated such kindness and honest warmth that meeting him had lightened even her dark misery for a few short hours.
With hands that no longer trembled or faltered, she removed the next ingredient and pushed another into a slightly different position, using it out of turn. As it began to take effect, she sent all that was left of her own magic winging across to join the three struggling in the shrinking circle of light.
Thunder boomed in the distance and Pavros looked up in horror as the spell began to go awry. The ground shook beneath their feet. People wavered and faded around him.
‘Nooooo!’ he screamed and struggled to leave the link before it was too late.
Bezroll’s large hand was gripping his too tightly, however, and Beffris was babbling and screaming of monsters. Nezrim had frozen where he stood, his eyes glazed, his hand clamped tightly on the wizard’s wrist.
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Outside the circle Sevris stood like one transfixed.
The floor continued to shake, as light fought darkness.
Movement was impossible now and even breathing was difficult. This was not person against person, but good against evil, the ultimate battle.
Then, from the distance, came the sound of humming, growing louder, turning into a melody that chimed softly, that seemed to take on a physical presence.
The darkness shifted backwards just a little.
As the sound washed over the apprentice, she crumpled to the ground sobbing. Nothing had seemed beautiful for years but now music sang along her veins and filled her with joy so radiant that it was pain as well as pleasure.
The circle of light expanded and the ring of darkness grew smaller and smaller, then something rumbled beneath their feet and the three men who had supported Pavros were whirled away in the loudest clap of thunder there had ever been. Their screams grew fainter and then faded into nothing.
Only Pavros remained and the wizard was still too powerful to be reduced to nothing by the sword’s magic.
It seemed for a time as if a stalemate had been reached, as if neither side could win, then golden light began to glow to one side of the wizard and Hallie appeared there, with all the beauty of the True Vale showing behind her through a narrow gap that had been opened between the worlds.
The apprentice had watched in terror as Pavros seemed untouched by the magic, but hope filled her again as she recognised a Halishi from the old drawings in the books of spells and lore.
‘Now is your time ended, Pavros the Sorcerer!’ Hallie called in ringing tones that were heard by everyone in the palace and even those who crowded outside its windows and doors.
She pointed at him. ‘You have cast your last spell.’
The invisible barriers outside the palace crumbled, allowing Harrith and his rebels to gain entrance.
‘You cannot destroy me!’ Pavros screamed. ‘Nothing can kill me! Nothing!’
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Hallie’s eyes were full of pity. ‘It would be better for you if we could, for instead you will have all eternity to rage and rail helplessly against your fate.’ She pointed at him a second time and he froze where he stood, eyes still filled with hatred and evil.
More light poured into the hall, golden, humming with life as the True Vale had hummed with busy little insects and fluttering singing birds.
‘Where are you taking him?’ Kerril called out, for even now he had to know what was happening.
‘To the Touchpoint. It’s the only place with enough power to hold this vile creature.’
The light flared so brightly everyone shut their eyes instinctively. It surrounded Pavros and then moved slowly back towards the space between the worlds, growing smaller and smaller but still so bright no one bear to stare at it.
Then there was a chiming sound followed by silence so complete it seemed to echo with the absence of noise.
When people opened their eyes, the Halishi were gone.
Ronan took a deep shuddering breath and stepped forward, still holding the sword before him. He had expected to find his uncle waiting for him, but all that was left of Sevris was a pile of embroidered robes and the dead husk of a man whom evil had destroyed utterly.
‘Take what’s left of that creature away!’ Ronan ordered and men moved forward quickly to obey him.
With a steady step he moved towards the throne, climbing the stairs slowly and then standing in front of it, head bowed, making no attempt to sit on it.
The sword floated out of his hand and he didn’t try to hold it back, only waited to see if it would recognize him as king in full view of all present. He didn’t hunger to rule Azaray, couldn’t see how he’d be good enough or clever enough for such a difficult task, but if the sword chose him, then he’d do the very best he could.
With a singing sound, the sword raised itself upright and hovered in front of the handsome young man in torn and tattered garments.
As the song of the sword rang out, everyone in the hall fell to their knees instinctively. Tears of joy began to roll down most faces, so sweet was the singing, and so sweet also the hope it gave back to them.
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‘You are the king,’ sang the sword. ‘The true-born King of Azaray. Hail to you, King Ronan! May you rule long and wisely.’
The young man raised his face to the gleaming sword. ‘I shall try.’ His words were quietly spoken, but rang out as clearly as the sword’s song. ‘I’m not worthy, but I shall try with all that is in me to rule this land fairly.’
‘Ah,’ said Harrith, who had found his way to Kerril’s side, ‘My old sergeant told me about that. They always say they’re not worthy, the good kings do. They know that no one is perfect.’
The sword’s song finished with a rippling series of chords and everyone sighed with regret, for the music had been beautiful beyond belief and they knew that most of them were not likely to hear it again, not until there was need for a new king to be chosen.
Slowly Ronan moved forward to sit on the throne.
The sword remained where it was, hanging above his head, shining now with rainbow light that was reflected round the hall by the jewels in its hilt.
Shayla and Kerril stepped forward to bow to their brother, then kneel and place their hands in his to swear allegiance to him and his heirs.
Then Kerril ran lightly down the steps at the side of the throne as others pressed forward to declare their loyalty.
The wizard’s apprentice was still lying where she’d fallen in the pain of giving her all to the struggle.
People were walking round her. No one was trying to help her. Perhaps
they didn’t realize what a difference she’d made to the final struggle. Perhaps they still thought of her as Pavros’s minion.
Kerril raised her in his arms and when she sighed and opened her eyes, he said simply, ‘Thank you. I know what you did, what you risked. You made a difference today.’
She blinked at him. ‘You were so kind to me by the river. And he was so evil. I couldn’t let him destroy you.’
‘What will you do now?’ he asked, helping her to her feet.
‘I don’t know.’
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Shayla joined them. ‘We’ll find you a room in the palace. No need to decide anything yet.’ She was so tired she could hardly stand upright. She looked at Kerril and smiled wearily. ‘We did it. Three in one.’
‘Yes. Three in one.’ Then he looked across the room at his brother. ‘But I think we’ll never be quite as close to him again.’
Then light shone around them and Hallie appeared beside them. ‘That’s why we’ve found you another to make up the three. Dirina will work with you from now on, and the three of you will help Ronan to settle in to ruling Azaray.’
She smiled at them. ‘Then, in the not too distant future, once there is no more need of the Three in One, you’ll be able to follow your own destinies.’
The apprentice stared at Hallie, her eyes filled with tears of joy. ‘Am I really allowed to stay here and be part of it all?’
‘Oh, yes,’ said Hallie, sighing a little. ‘It never stops, you see, my dear. Life goes on and the wheel of fate spins out both good and bad. We must always remain vigilant. But first,’ her voice became brisk again, ‘we must get you three some proper training. Magic must be learned just like everything else.’
The light faded and when they looked up again, they realised she’d left them.
They looked towards the throne, where people were queuing to swear allegiance to Ronan.
‘What shall we do now?’ Shayla asked.
‘I wouldn’t mind finding something to eat, actually,’ Kerril said. ‘I’m starving.’
Shayla burst out laughing. ‘I know everything is all right again when you’re worrying about your stomach. Come on! I’m hungry, too.’
He grinned and as Shayla led the way out, looking for the kitchens, he put his arm round Dirina to draw her with them, leaving his brother to take control of the kingdom.
‘Three is a good number,’ he said quietly to her as they walked. ‘You’ll like being part of a Three.’
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EPILOGUE
To this very day Pavros, the most evil wizard ever known in Azaray’s ring of worlds, lies entombed in the black rock known as the Touchpoint. Only its magic can keep all the worlds that are now and all that are still to be created safe from his evil.
And the Halishi still keep watch—though inevitably they sometimes forget how time is passing outside the True Vale.
Children are the only ones to remember the wizard now, though even they have mostly forgotten his name. Generations of youngsters from Azaray and the other worlds in that ring have gone to the huge black rock which appears in all the worlds. There, they have traced the outline of the angry face and listened to the old tales.
When they’re standing close to it, they can’t help believing those tales and prophecies.
And children all over the worlds still sing the old song of Three in One as they play, still believe that in times of need, the magic sword which hangs so quietly on the palace wall will come to life again and three people will appear to save Azaray—as they always have done and always will.
Also at by Shannah Jay:
Envoy
Tenebrak, The Founding
Quest
Lands of Nowhere
Shadow of the Serpent
The Price of Wisdom
Document Outline
