The group took off down the right corridor, and sure enough, there was a set of stairs after they sprinted down the hall. There was also another guard patrol. The giant rammed through them again, and the fiery wolf made sure none of them got their bearings until the three of them were past. With the screams of pain from the guards, Esset knew that they’d be encountering more opponents soon—there was no way they were going unheard. They needed to get out as soon as possible. Regular men weren’t too big an obstacle, but mages could be very troublesome, and even if Atli himself didn’t show up, he had plenty of other mages in his employ.
It was as though his thought had summoned them; they’d just reached the top of the steps and started to run down the left-hand corridor that Erizen had called out when the stone giant was stopped by a mage-shield. Sparks and bits of stone sprayed to the sides and back, forcing Toman and Esset to skid to a stop and throw up their arms to protect their faces. Esset was too slow and found himself rewarded with a few small cuts on his face from the flying stone chips. The golem was considerably worse for wear—its entire front was scorched and battered, but fortunately the end effect was smaller. The golem started to bash at the shield, sending more bits flying.
Toman and Esset crouched to make themselves smaller targets, and Esset grinned when he saw two mages beyond the shimmering surface of the shield; they were in the same corridor, down a ways. Banishing all the summons he currently had with him, he incanted a new chant, and a massive, fiery panther appeared—on the mages’ side of the shield. Their faces went white when they saw it, and their shaken concentration weakened their shield—a second later, the golem smashed through. About the same time, the two mages had personal shields thrown up to protect themselves from the blazing beast that pounced at them.
The panther roared in fury as it mauled their mage-shields, its voice the sound of a whirling maelstrom of flames. Not even air could escape the devouring hunger of fire, and one mage collapsed when the panther shattered his shield. Esset prevented his summon from killing the man, instead turning its attention to the other mage as the group sprinted past. The second the panther hit the second mage’s shield, the man’s resolution failed, and he turned and ran. The panther pursued a few paces before Esset called it back. With a snarl, the fiery cat obeyed and whirled to bound after the group instead.
They barreled through two more groups of guards, and after the last, Esset murmured a prayer as he ran—the panther had escaped his control for a matter of scant moments and managed to do more damage to a guard than he intended. The man wasn’t dead now, but the summoner wasn’t sure he’d survive, either. After the brief prayer and a swift lockdown on his control of the creature, they rounded a corner and saw the kitchen door.
“There!” This time there was no lock-picking or attempts at stealth. The golem bashed the door down with a single stomping kick and they flooded into the room. The sleeping servants screamed and pressed against walls or hid under tables as the group ran past, ignoring them completely. Esset restrained the panther from attacking them, steering it up behind the golem instead. The golem smashed through the outside door next, and stone griffons met them there. Guards were rushing forward, but the panther sprang to meet them, buying the trio enough time to mount up and take off.
The darkness of the night sky was their friend as the stone beasts winged them away from the castle, carrying them far upwards and over the city. They landed in a different location from where they’d taken off originally, on the off chance someone may have seen something. Esset was only too glad to land; his heart raced and his blood was hot despite the cold flight back.
“Well, did we get what we came for?” Esset asked, looking at Erizen’s griffon.
There was no answer.
“Erizen?” Esset asked. After a second and a flash of irritation, he tried again: “Lord Erizen?” Still nothing. Concerned, Toman and Esset went over to the stone beast, and that was when they saw the scrap of cloth tied to the creature’s ankle. Toman freed it and spread it over his hand. Black letters spelled clearly; “Good work, pups. See you later.”
“Figures,” Esset snarled, turning away.
“Well, it was part of the plan to part ways almost immediately after escaping and meet him back at his castle,” Toman pointed out. He wasn’t entirely happy either, but he wasn’t as ready as Esset was to assume the worst of the mage.
“We’d best make use of what darkness remains,” he said, pushing down his anger as best he could. Getting any angrier would be too much like letting Erizen win.
“Looks like,” Toman agreed. “Come on, let’s go. We have a long trip ahead of us.”
They flew through the night and hid in a canyon next to a stream as dawn broke. They were both exhausted, but once they were camouflaged and in their bedrolls, Esset found he couldn’t sleep.
“Hey Toman,” Esset said quietly to get his brother’s attention.
“Mhmm?” Toman responded without looking at him.
“I’m pretty sure that guard didn’t make it.”
Upon Esset’s words, his best friend looked over at him. “Who?” he asked.
“You didn’t even see him, I don’t think. It was when we were pushing through one of the patrols—I lost control of the cat for a second. It mauled a guy…really badly,” Esset explained. He still stared at the rocks, and his voice was flat, but Toman knew better than to think that meant his brother didn’t care.
“We were fighting, Esset. It couldn’t have been helped,” Toman said, trying to reason with him. But he knew Esset wouldn’t accept that.
“It should have been,” Esset argued.
“No one’s perfect,” Toman said quietly.
Now Esset finally sat up and turned his head to look at Toman. “No, but I’m strong. Remember what Dad said, before we set out the very first time? We’re strong, a lot stronger than ordinary people. And that means we should be able to afford to do things right. We are strong enough to fight without taking lives.”
Toman let Esset’s argument stand for a moment, because it was true. “But not always,” Toman said softly. “We can only do our best. But we knew going in that we’d end up with blood on our hands. We were lucky the Baliyan war was mostly against undead, but even then there were times that we couldn’t avoid taking lives.”
“I know,” Esset said, looking away. “But this time—good grief, he was a guardsman. For all we know, he didn’t even want to be there. For all we know, he was a good guy, with a wife and kids who’ll never see him again. And I killed him.”
“Come on, Esset. You don’t know that—you could be borrowing trouble here. You don’t know he was a good guy; it’s just as possible he wasn’t. And it’s possible he’s still alive.”
Esset snorted at that attempt at reassurance. “Yeah, maimed for life, and so crippled he’s an invalid.”
“Esset—” Toman could see he wasn’t getting through at all; Esset had set his mind on being guilty about this. Toman was about to make him listen. “Esset,” he tried one last time. Then he reached out and grabbed the front of Esset’s coat and yarded him forward, putting them both in the sitting position.
“Listen up, Jonathan,” Toman began forcefully. “You need to get it through your thick skull that you’re human. You’re not some flawless hero from an old tale, unable to step a single foot wrong. You’re strong, but you’re not perfect. Is your hubris so great that you think you are? You know what the Book of Bright Hyrishal would say about that. No, you’re not some hero of tale, you’re Jonathan Esset, son of a scholar, a mere mortal who’s trying to make a difference for the better in this world.” He let go of Esset’s jacket with a little shove, landing his brother back in his seat with a soft thwumpf.
Esset was quiet.
“You know I’m right,” Toman pushed after a moment of silence. He had every intention of bullying an answer out of the summoner.
“Yeah,” Esset finally admitted softly. After a few moments, he added, “But that doesn’t me
an it’s good, or right, or that I have to like it.”
Toman sighed. “No…I know.” And it wouldn’t get any easier, either.
Toman and Esset flew nights and kept out of sight even after they’d crossed into Erizen’s territory. When they reached the castle under the cover of darkness, Esset flew in close first, looking for the boy whose face Erizen had implanted in his memory. He finally spied him wearing a page’s uniform and playing with a cup and ball in the garden inside the castle walls. Esset made another pass just to be sure he had the right person, and then he waved for Toman to follow him down.
The kid didn’t see them until they were almost atop him. The boy’s eyes widened and he jumped back, but he was soon grinning at the stone griffons, craning his neck to watch them when they took off after depositing their burdens.
“Okay, this way,” the boy whispered, waving Toman and Esset into a shadowy corner. A little gargoyle perched on a pedestal, and the boy walked straight up to it, patted it on the head twice and kissed it on the nose. A shadow shifted in the corner as a passage opened silently in the flagstones next to them. Esset rolled his eyes at the “key” to open the passageway. Erizen. It figured.
The boy scampered over to the edge of the trapdoor and waved for them to go down ahead of him. Toman ducked down first, shimmying down the ladder into the darkness. From the coolness of the tunnel, he knew the walls would be stone, and a quick touch confirmed the guess.
The boy hopped nimbly down behind them, and the tunnel went pitch black as the hidden entrance slid silently shut behind them. A moment later, the boy lit a small lantern—Toman didn’t know where he’d gotten it—illuminating the passageway ahead. Fortunately, the boy was small enough to dart by them and lead the way down the tunnel.
Toman and Esset had to jog to keep up with him and his bobbing lantern. The passage had a few forks and offshoots, but the boy never hesitated. Finally they reached a set of stairs and a peephole. The page blew out the lantern and set it down, then pressed one eye up against the peephole before triggering some unseen mechanism, prompting the stones to slide out of the way.
They emerged from behind a plush tapestry and into a hallway. The boy put on a very well-mannered behavior and led them sedately into the hall as if they’d entered the castle in a perfectly legitimate fashion.
It didn’t take long before Toman recognized the hall leading to Erizen’s study. The page walked them right up and tapped on the door, which opened to admit them.
Erizen reclined in chair behind his desk, two books open on his lap.
“Ah, you’re finally here,” he remarked, moving the books to the desk and waving the page away. Toman and Esset stepped inside and the door closed quietly behind them. Erizen picked up an ornate wooden box from his desk and held it out to them.
“Your portion of the spoils,” Erizen said.
“Thank you,” Toman said, accepting the box and peeking inside to make sure there were, in fact, two amulets inside. There were: two relatively nondescript stones on strings. The stones were black and very thin. Toman had no way of verifying that they were, in fact, immunity amulets, so they had to take Erizen at his word.
“Now, you’ve decided to work with me, and I with you, so let’s get down to business.” Erizen came around the front of his desk and leaned back against it. “Our dear Gretchen was right. It’s high time Moloch was dealt with.
“Moloch is a nasty piece of work, and he’s politically powerful as well as magically powerful. He’s cruel, unpredictable, and cunning besides. What makes you think you stand the chance of a rain drop in a bonfire of beating him?”
That was direct, but Toman found he liked it. It was refreshing. “Moloch bears a special hatred for animators—I believe we can lure him away from his political power base and some of his resources. If we can make him come to us, that should level the playing field somewhat,” Toman explained.
Erizen snorted. “Not enough. He has a Greymaker,” Erizen said.
“How much of a difference does that make?” Toman asked, knowing full well that they didn’t have enough information about Greymakers.
“Imagine someone who wants to put out a fire, but only has water from a well. They can pump up water, but it takes time, and there’s only so much water in the well. That’s your average mage. With the Greymaker…well, imagine a dam, holding back a mountain lake. All we have to do is open the floodgates. Not only will the fire be put out, the entire city will be flattened and the memory of fire erased.” Erizen appeared pleased with his analogy.
“That’s how much power the Greymaker generates?” Esset asked, surprised.
“The other lords mocked me for taking over a large, mountainous territory with few tenants. They didn’t laugh so hard when they found out how much power I could get from just land, using the Greymaker. They looked downright unhappy when I built the mines, too.” He wore a smug little grin.
“So how do we destroy the Greymaker?” Toman asked, pinpointing that target as the first order of business. They couldn’t allow Moloch to have that much extra power at his disposal. Even the immunity amulets wouldn’t help them if he were that strong.
But Erizen snorted. “You can’t.”
“So what, you’re telling us to give up? I thought you said you were with us on this,” Esset challenged him.
“Don’t test me,” Erizen warned. “All I said was that you can’t. I am a different story. I built the Greymaker; I can destroy it, easily. Although I don’t intend to. Simply disabling it will be sufficient.”
“If being able to take the Greymaker offline is such a unique ability of yours, won’t Moloch know immediately that you did it?” Esset asked reasonably.
“Oh yes. But not if I accuse him first,” Erizen replied with a sly smile.
“What?”
“I will pretend to be enraged and go to Moloch to accuse him of tampering with my Greymaker. If anyone other than me could do something like that, after all, it would be him, as the only other owner of a Greymaker, the only other person privy to its particular workings. I would have to shut down my own Greymaker temporarily, which is undesirable, but I am confident I can stockpile enough power that I would have something to fall back on if something goes wrong.
“Anyways, I accuse him of disabling my Greymaker, so when his goes down, the rumor will already be circulated that there is someone else capable of such a feat. I will mention that you two were sighted just before the damage of my device, so it will be a logical conclusion for him to assume you were the culprit of his machine’s downfall as well.” Erizen folded his hands before himself, concluding his part of the plan.
“That…could work,” Toman conceded.
“Clearly,” Erizen replied arrogantly.
“If we prepare everything else beforehand, that can be our catalyst for getting him to come after us in our stronghold, too,” Esset put in. “Can you cut him off from any reserves he may have from his Greymaker, or is that beyond the scope of your abilities?” Esset asked Erizen. He deliberately played to Erizen’s pride in his wording.
“Unnecessary. The Greymaker’s resources are too vast to catch and hold without the Greymaker spell structure to hold it stable. He would need days of preparation to horde the power,” Erizen replied primly. Esset hoped he wasn’t just saying that so he wouldn’t lose face. “Now, what about your side of the plan?”
“The simplest plans are usually the best—fewer things can go wrong. We were going to take a direct approach,” Toman began.
“We have a location in the mountains where I’ve been building an army on and off for years. I have a good number stockpiled, but not enough yet.”
Erizen’s eyebrows rose. “You’ll need soldiers in the thousands to make any kind of difference against Moloch.”
“I know. And if I can take some dedicated time, I can create that many. We aren’t ready quite yet, but we will be soon.”
“We’ll have to set up a signal for when to spring the trap then,” Erizen comm
ented. Toman nodded before continuing.
“So we lure Moloch to this location. Can you make it seem that the Greymakers were somehow disabled from our location?”
Erizen nodded.
“Good,” Toman continued. “Then all you need to do is disable the Greymaker and send him in our direction. We’ll do the rest. Not even Moloch can stand against a stone army in the thousands.”
Erizen pursed his lips and tilted his head from side-to-side in a maybe, maybe-not gesture.
“He could with a Greymaker.”
“But you’re taking care of that,” Esset reminded him strongly.
“Indeed.”
“I also have some animations for our defense. Add a few more amulets, like ones the sergeant is getting us so we can sense magic, and we’ll have the edge we need to beat him.” Toman crossed his arms and waited for Erizen’s response.
“Relying on brute strength against Moloch… It will be a gamble,” Erizen said after a thoughtful silence.
“Going against Moloch at all is a gamble,” Toman replied. Erizen nodded pensively.
“Well!” Erizen was suddenly his sharp, showman self again. “The risk to me is minimal. Even if you fail, I won’t be discovered if I play my cards right. Which I will. I will wish you luck. After all, it will benefit me greatly to have that condescending menace no longer looking over my shoulder. I have a few ventures that would be much more lucrative without him cutting into my business.” He looked pleased as a cat with cream on its whiskers.
“Now then, come look at my maps so I know where to send Moloch…”
Toman and Esset stood at the base of a small tower perched on a mountainside far away from any civilization. The mountainscape was dotted with hundreds upon hundreds of boulders and rocky formations, that is to say, with Toman’s creations disguised as such.
“One month.”
Esset tore his eyes from the spectacular view to regard his brother.
“One month, and I should have everything prepared,” Toman said.
Calling On Fire (Book 1) Page 36
