Five Kingdoms: Books 01, 02 & 03

by Toby Neighbors

  “They’re just trying to distract you,” Quinn yelled at his son.

  Zollin didn’t hear him. He swung his staff so that it was over his head and parallel with his friends. He envisioned an impenetrable screen of magic above them. The arrows hit the screen and bounced in mid air, falling harmlessly to the ground.

  The mercenaries had fired more arrows, but Zollin easily blocked those as well. He was about to blast the mercenaries out of his way when his horse bellowed in fear. Quinn’s and Mansel’s horses, too, were suddenly locking their legs and sliding to a stop. Zollin saw their mounts’ eyes wide with fear, their lips drawn back, their manes standing up along their necks.

  “What’s going on?” Brianna shouted. Lilly had slowed along with the others but didn’t seem as affected.

  Zollin looked up at the soldiers in front of them – their horses too seemed frightened.

  “I don’t know,” shouted Quinn.

  Zollin looked behind them and saw the riders approaching but still at an extreme distance. He didn’t understand why his horse was suddenly turning against his protests and trying to flee from the soldiers. At first, he thought the Wizard behind them had somehow cast a spell that was frightening their mounts, but then he heard the screams from the soldiers. Zollin looked over his shoulder and saw lions leaping down on the soldiers. There were several big cats, at least half as big as the horses. Zollin’s mount was still twisting in fear, trying to break from his control. The lions had bronze-colored hides and long teeth that curved up from their lower jaws. The soldiers were hacking at the big cats with their long swords, but their horses were dancing with fear, making their attacks almost useless. Two of the horses had fallen as the lions leapt upon them, tearing into their necks with fangs and claws.

  “What do we do?” Mansel shouted over the carnage.

  “I don’t think we have any choice,” Quinn yelled. “Get your bow out, Mansel. Brianna, do your best to hold the horses. Zollin, the Wizard’s yours. We’re fish in a barrel here, but we’ve no other choice.”

  Zollin slipped off his horse and ran toward the approaching riders. “Blast,” he yelled. Energy crackled from his staff toward the riders. Their horses reared, but the attack was thwarted. Zollin could sense the magic like an invisible wall between them. He knew any attack he made would be repulsed. So he changed his tactic.

  “So you’re the novice Branock warned me about,” Zollin shouted. He saw the look of bewilderment on the other Wizard’s face.

  “He said you were a coward, and now I sense your fear,” Zollin shouted again, hoping his lie was believable. This time he swung his staff theatrically and sent a shower of sparks snapping and popping against the invisible barrier. The attack was all for show with no real power, but he saw that the barrier was pulling back. He took a chance and aimed his next attack at the soldier on the right. This time the spell was not deflected, and the mercenary was sent flying from his horse. The other soldier reined his horse around and galloped away.

  Behind Zollin, one of the lions was now slowly stalking toward Mansel and Quinn. They raised their bows and let their arrows fly. The first found its mark and caused the lion to leap back. The other arrow, slightly behind the first, glanced off the lion as it moved. The rest of the pride was busy with the soldiers and their horses, gorging themselves on the fresh meat. Quinn turned and saw that Zollin now faced the Wizard alone, and he chanced an arrow at the rider. But the arrow bounced harmlessly away, and the Wizard never took his eyes off of Zollin.

  “I can’t stand Wizards!” Quinn spat, then turned his attention back to the lions.

  Cassis had now brought his horse to stop. His mind was reeling. He knew that Branock was crafty but the old Wizard had double-crossed them, or so it seemed. He knew better than to take the boy’s words at face value, but he also remembered the attack at the village, and he was taking no chances.

  Zollin could feel the hair on his arms and neck standing up as the air seemed charged with magic. Every sense came alive, his vision sharp, his mind racing through possibilities. There were rocks on the steep hills to Zollin’s right. With his mind, he flung them down and then immediately raised a mental shield between himself and the other Wizard. Just as Zollin expected, the other Wizard attacked at that moment. He felt the blast of power against his defenses like an ax blow against a shield. He tried to keep his features from revealing his shock at the strength of the blow.

  The boulders came crashing down and would have crushed Cassis and his horse, but the Wizard deflected the barrage. Zollin took that opportunity to try a new spell. He focused his mind on panic and sent the feelings straight at the Wizard’s horse. It was a desperate ploy – he didn’t even know if he could do it. But with the Wizard’s attention momentarily diverted, his defenses had pulled back, leaving the horse exposed. Zollin saw the whites around the horse’s dark irises, and then the beast reared, pawing the air and sending the Wizard toppling backwards. The horse, free of its rider, bolted away.

  Cassis was unprepared for the horse’s sudden buck, and it sent him crashing to the ground. Fortunately, his defenses softened his landing and the boulders were already diverted from their course. He fell to the ground but quickly gained his feet on the wet turf. He immediately sent a wild blast of fire toward Zollin, as much to distract the young Wizard as to actually harm him.

  Zollin was waiting, and he saw that the blast was going wide away from him and toward where Brianna was holding the horses. He was confident the attack would not harm her, but he feared the horses might panic and crush her, so he deflected the blast.

  There was still snow on the mountain side and Zollin pulled it down. Only this time it wasn’t aimed at the other Wizard, but between them. There was a moment’s hesitation as the ice and snow rumbled down the steep hillsides. Zollin was relieved when Cassis raised his defenses to ward off this new attack. He had hoped the distraction would keep the other Wizard from attacking again. The snow and ice, along with dirt and rocks and some scrubby vegetation, fell in a towering heap between them. Zollin spun around to ensure that the lions weren’t overwhelming his father. The beasts were mostly engaged with the soldiers and the horses that they had killed, but one was circling around, staying high up on the hillside, crouching low. Zollin pointed at it and yelled for his father, just as the mound of snow and ice blew apart, showering them all and causing them to duck for cover.

  Zollin shrouded himself with a magical shield and saw that in that instant the lion had sprung. It was sailing down toward the horses who were dancing with fear from the explosion of snow. Brianna was trying desperately to soothe them as she held tightly to the reins, but she was oblivious to the danger. Zollin knew that he needed to return his attention to the Wizard who was advancing behind him, but he also knew and feared that the lion might find Brianna easier prey than the horses. He shoved with all his power against the lion, but the beast’s weight and momentum were such that though he managed to hurl the animal back, he was knocked off his feet by the force of the collision.

  Cassis took that opportune moment to attack. He hurled fire at Zollin, who raised his arm instinctively. There was a searing pain, but then Zollin raised his defenses and pushed the fire back. He rolled to his feet in time to block another blast. And then, just like with Branock, both Wizards attacked at the same time, their spells clashing together. Energy snapped and hissed along Zollin’s staff and up his arm. He felt the power welling up in him as his emotions fed his effort. He could see Todrek in his mind, could see Brianna and his father, even Mansel and their horses. He knew in that moment that the only way to stop Cassis was to kill him. He sensed the other’s intent in the ferocity of this attack. It was like a gambler knowing that it was time to bet his entire fortune on one turn of the cards. So Zollin pushed, pushed his magic against the resistance of his opponent’s spell. He felt the muscles in his legs and back straining. He focused his mind and will behind the spell.

  “You’re finished,” he shouted. “I’m going to kill
you!”

  Cassis didn’t answer. He couldn’t believe the amount of power that was flooding against him. It was taking all his ability to hold the spell, and fear was beginning to turn his bowels to water. He wanted to escape but knew that if he broke off the spell without first pushing his opponent back, he would be killed. Still, even though his mind was racing to find a way out of his predicament, Zollin’s raw power was overwhelming him.

  Zollin felt Cassis’ spell falter for a moment, and then it surged. But as it did, the Wizard’s staff burst into tiny shards. The magic that just moments before had seemed like a raging river suddenly ceased, and in the stillness of the moment, Zollin felt a stab of sympathy for Cassis. The Wizard looked older, tired and weak. He had fallen to his knees, his robes tattered, his black hair disheveled. Zollin was just about to speak when the older Wizard raised both hands and cast his final spell. Zollin had been holding his staff in front of him, and without thought, he blocked the spell, but he doubted if there was enough power in Cassis to have done any real damage. Zollin stood effortlessly before him while Cassis strained, the veins in his neck bulged, his face turned red, his lips peeled back in a snarl of anger and hatred. But the strain was too much, his magic draining him. The Wizard dropped dead in the mud.

  Zollin felt the magic suddenly disappear, like light disappearing into darkness when a candle is snuffed out. The sensation left a melancholy echo in Zollin. He turned and saw that his father and Mansel had dispatched the lion. The horses were still straining to break away, but Brianna, despite her small frame, was unyielding. Zollin looked at the horses and imagined calm happiness, then pushed his thoughts toward them. The horses immediately settled down and began nuzzling Brianna.

  “We should go,” Zollin said.

  Quinn turned and saw the dead Wizard lying in the mud. He didn’t speak, only nodded and gathered the horses from Brianna. With one last spell, Zollin scattered the lions with panic, and the group rode away from the carnage and into the mountains.

  Chapter 13

  Branock felt the battle. He was still working to repair the damage his rebounding spell had caused. He had managed to find a fallen log where an animal had dug out a shallow depression. He had wrapped himself in blankets and fallen asleep. When he woke, he was buried in snow, his hunger so fierce he was shaking. He had used his saddle bag as a pillow, and so he ate and slept. Using only as much energy as it took to uncover himself from the snow and chew the dry rations he fed on, he slept as much as possible. On the day the group had set out from their camp, Branock began working to heal more of his left side. He started with his leg, concentrating on each nerve, transforming the scar tissue back to health, even smoothing the skin. It was slow, tedious work that did not suit his power, but he was determined. The magic drained him of energy quickly. But by the time the battle between Zollin and Cassis took place, he was able to walk normally and use his left arm and hand with close to normal strength and dexterity. His face was still a mass of withered skin, his beard and hair burned away, his left eye a milky white.

  When the battle took place, far to the north, Branock felt it as slight pulses. He knew what must be happening and cursed his luck. The boy had been in his hands, and now Cassis would either kill or capture him. He would have to return to the Torr empty handed and weakened, without the ally he had hoped to have. Then he felt the churning of Zollin’s spell that had shattered Cassis’ staff. It was like lightning hidden behind thick clouds whose thunder shakes everything around and resonates deep a person’s chest. He knew then that there was hope, although if Zollin continued into the mountains it would be hope deferred. Still, Branock knew that Cassis could never wield that much power – he himself was not that powerful. In fact, Branock had never felt such awesome, raw force. It was proof that if he could control the boy, he would be unstoppable, and if he couldn’t, that Zollin would have to die.

  His horse had wandered away to survive the snowstorm, so Branock turned south. He would need to return to the Torr and explain to his Master what had happened. He would have to think of a good explanation, but he had plenty of time to do that. First he needed to find a better mode of transport and to heal his disfigured facial features. Then he would worry about his Master in the tower.

  ***

  Wytlethane felt the battle, too. He had turned south soon after splitting up with other two Wizards. He was now comfortably ensconced in small inn. There were two other guests who had left as soon as the sun had begun melting the snow. Wytlethane decided to wait. Cassis would turn south with the boy, and then they could return to the Torr together, ensuring that his reputation with the Master was unspoiled.

  When the battle took place, he was resting in his room with a comfortable fire warming the small space nicely. He was dozing in a chair when the wave of power from Zollin’s final effort shook him awake. He stood and began pacing. It was obvious that splitting up was a mistake. The boy was more powerful than Wytlethane had anticipated. Now he would have to travel north again, to find Branock and then the boy. He was weary of traveling and wished nothing more than to be left in peace. But he knew the danger of allowing the boy to live. He felt Cassis disappear like a whiff of smoke. His alliance with Cassis had not been as beneficial as he had hoped. And if they returned to the Torr without the boy, the Master would most likely kill one or both of them.

  He began packing his things again. He would travel to Isos city before the winter snows made travel impossible. When spring arrived, he would go north by sea and enter the Great Valley before the passes had cleared. With luck, he would have the boy and be home by summer, and then life could return to normal.

  ***

  They were planning to camp just before dark, but snow began falling again, not large flakes and certainly not blizzard-like conditions, but the sight of snow spurred them on. They rode until they came to small tree just after dark. Quinn and Mansel cut branches and then, one by one, Zollin would ignite them to use as torches. In this way they rode through most of the night. The trail rose and fell as it rounded the roots of the mountains around them. The horses were tired, but Quinn was desperate to get them through the pass. The ground slowly became rougher as soil with stunted grass and weeds gave way to bare bedrock. Just before dawn, the last torch burned through. They didn’t have pitch, so the branches didn’t last very long. In the darkness, they huddled together. Zollin warmed the rocks they huddled on, but he was so tired he couldn’t keep them from cooling quickly. He had eaten most of his rations after the battle with Cassis, and now he dozed fitfully.

  Mansel and Brianna slept as well, but Quinn stayed awake, trying to keep his senses alert in case more lions appeared. As gray dawn broke over the mountain tops, they rode on. The temperature fell dramatically as they rose in altitude, and the mountains seemed to close in on the pass, keeping the trail veiled in shadow. The snow had stopped sometime during the night, but the farther they rode, the deeper the snow became. They put on all their clothes and wrapped up in blankets, but still they ached with cold until all they could think about was being warm again. When they happened along another stunted tree that was growing out of a crack in the side of a mountain, Mansel volunteered to go and cut it. The others waited while he made the ascent. The small tree was crooked, twisted and leafless. The wood was extremely hard to cut, and the thin air made Mansel’s stamina short, but eventually he felled the little tree. It tumbled down the steep slope until it caught on an outcrop of rock. Zollin lifted it free and let it tumble the rest of the way down. They broke the limbs and waited for Mansel. As soon as he arrived, Zollin cast the wood ablaze and they stood as close as they could, letting the heat thaw their frozen bodies. They ate what little food they had left and then rode on. It was another cold dark night, but no snow fell, and exhaustion overtook them. They all slept together, huddled for warmth on the rocky ground. They woke aching and tired but felt better than the day before. They rode on. There was so little vegetation that the horses began to plod along with their heads drooping.
But early that morning, they came to a long, upward-winding trek. They walked the horses, their feet aching, their lungs burning from the cold air, their thighs quivering and threatening to cramp from exertion. They stopped to rest several times, and when they were near the top, snow began to softly fall. They were too tired to talk, but when they finally crested the hill, they were shocked by what lay ahead.

  ***

  “You sent for us, Master of the Torr,” said the man in white. He was tall and skeletally thin, with milk-white skin and hair. He was so white that his teeth stood out in dark contrast with his lips.

  “Yes, I have need of your services once again,” the Wizard said.

  “You have always been a valued customer.”

  “This is a delicate matter,” said the Wizard. “My own associates have failed. If you are to succeed, it will take all your resources.”

  “For that right price, that can be arranged.”

  “Good. This is a Wizard. A young man. He is in the north. He must not come south alive. Is that understood?”