“You mean the necklace will attempt to harm me?”
“Precisely,” Madera said. “You are strong enough, Taliesin, that you no longer require this necklace to remain human. Trust in yourself.”
“It will be okay,” Bonaparte said. “You can do this.”
Taliesin reached under the top of her armor with her left hand, felt around for the strand of hair, and received a sting when her fingers touched it. She pulled the necklace out from inside her armor, surprised to see the golden strand glowing with dark magic, and quickly handed it to Madera. The woman held the nail in her hand, squeezed it tightly, and her pale flesh turned red. Madera let out a soft cry and opened her palm to reveal a mound of iron where the nail had been and a black strand of hair. She turned her hand over, let the broken charm fall to the ground, and offered her injured hand to Bonaparte, who stroked it until Madera’s skin returned to its pale shade.
“Zarnoc and Ismeina made those necklaces,” Taliesin said. “They have helped everyone who has worn them not to turn Wolfen. But I do not really need it.”
Madera let out a soft sight. “The necklaces have helped others, but not you; not anymore. Broa hates you, child, and blames you for the death of Stroud. And, in a way, you are the reason he is dead. You wished to alter time; when Stroud tried to help you, Ragnal struck him down.”
“I had no idea. I’m sorry Stroud is dead. I thought he had turned my storm against me.” Taliesin lowered her head. She didn’t feel the need to cry, but she did regret the All Father’s death. “I have tried my best, Lady Madera, but sometimes it feels like my best isn’t good enough. How can I become a powerful sha’tar? What am I doing wrong? Can you help me?”
“That’s what Ringerike is for. The sword can help you reach your full potential, but you must trust it without question. For you, that will be hard,” Madera replied. “Something must be done about the Maeceni, I agree. For too long they have festered on top of their mountain, creating malice and discontent, turning brother against father, fairy against darkling, and man against magic. Korax always said the Maeceni had an insatiable lust for blood and power. Since his death, far too many humans have prayed to the Maeceni, not knowing their gods were corrupt and petty, or that by doing so, they fed them strength and power.
“The only decent Maeceni are Mira and Heggen. Well, not Heggen, not anymore, for he has changed for the worse, I fear. He wasn’t always evil, Taliesin. Once, Heggen courted me, and I thought perhaps we might marry, but it didn’t turn out that way. I have spent too long mourning the loss of Heggen’s love and Korax’s death, and even my failure to give my dear dragon what he needed. Love is a powerful emotion, Taliesin; it is stronger than hate, because in its pure form it is unstoppable. Love is the only quality you have in great abundance, for you love your friends with all your heart, and you would even sacrifice your own life to save them.”
“I do love them,” Taliesin said.
“Love can be used to defeat the Maeceni. They do not love anyone else and barely love each other. Heggen still frequents the halls of Nethalburg to claim the souls of slain champions, which he collects beneath Mt. Helos. I too have....”
Taliesin sprang to her feet. “What? Heggen still comes to Nethalburg? But I thought he stopped coming after he broke your heart?” She glanced at Bonaparte. “The map showed us an underground river that leads to Mt. Helos. Does that river flow past Nethalburg, and can I use it to gain entrance into the mountain?” She felt Ringerike vibrate against her back, confirming this was so. “If I can go through the backdoor, then I can let Talas Kull in through the main gate. I can lead Hellirin and Lorian troops right into the palace, and we can catch the Maeceni by surprise.”
“I told Taliesin about you and Heggen,” the dragon-man said.
“It’s all right; Taliesin is your friend, and you confided in each other. The ‘Shadow River’ is what we call it,” Madera said, and Taliesin resumed her seat. “Only those in the Mystic Realms know of this river, child, and you must have seen it on one of Zoltaire’s maps. The river is not used by the living. Again, had you brought the Moon Ring with you, you could have traveled on the river. It is a perilous journey, my child, and one no mortal has ever made it. Even darklings, curious to venture to Mt. Helos, are never seen again. I would not have you take that path.”
“If I enter the city and take a boat to Mt. Helos, will I die?”
“You have Ringerike,” Madera explained, as if the sword was the solution to everything. “As long as you have the Raven Sword, nothing can harm you, Taliesin. Now that Ysemay is not inside the sword, it can do miracles. Korax died only because Zarnoc put Ysemay inside the sword. Had the wizard not done so, history would be quite different. However, the dragon cannot go with you—it is forbidden.”
“Madera, you cannot take Taliesin into your city,” Bonaparte said, “nor allow her to take a boat to the mountain. I fear she will be lost in the underworld without my protection. I say we wait for Folando and Dolabra to arrive. It will take the Hellirins and Lorians only a day to reach Mt. Helos; it is the safest way to travel.”
“But a small Hellirin escort could accompany me in a boat,” Taliesin said. “I’m not afraid to enter Nethalburg. Ringerike will protect me, and I am a sha’tar; surely that accounts for something.” The woman stared at her, while the dragon snorted smoke from his nostrils. Neither seemed convinced. “Is Heggen due to arrive any time soon? Could I stowaway on board his boat? Is that possible?”
Madera placed her hand on Taliesin’s arm. “You are rash like Korax,” she said. “You jump into danger, convinced your way is the best way, and do not listen to the wise Council of your friends. You do not need to take Heggen’s boat, for any boat will do, but I cannot allow you to enter Nethalburg without the Moon Ring. Mortals who enter change, Taliesin. If for some reason Ringerike were taken from you, there is a chance you could become a darkling, bound to Nethalburg and limited in the length of time you could remain above ground.”
“My mind is made up,” Taliesin said. “That’s what I’m doing.”
“I suggest you wait for my brother. He may help you with Dolabra’s blessing, but there will be a price to pay,” Madera said. She motioned at her armed men who shuffled their feet in the snow and grew anxious as the torches dwindled, and gloom set upon the clearing. “Akyres has long had his heart set on Skarda. He wants to expand our borders, and tunnels already extend into Talas Kull’s lands.”
“Everyone knows this,” the dragon grumbled. “Taliesin is not here to barter what is not hers to give; Talas Kull is her cousin and ally. Skarda is not for sale, but I will give half my treasure to be divided among the Hellirin and Lorian for their support.”
“If she wants my brother’s help, this is what he will want, dragon.”
From what Taliesin knew from Kull about the blood feud between the Hellirins and the Skardans, she should have expected the price. She needed no prodding from Ringerike to know Skarda was not hers to give away, but the sword also warned her no matter how kindly Madera acted, subterfuge was involved. Taliesin glanced at the shadows beyond the torchlight, for as far as she knew, Akyres Folando and Dolabra Vorenius were watching from the dark and waiting for Madera to close the deal. Every nerve tingled, and she slid on the left gauntlet, knowing they had overstayed their welcome and needed to leave.
“I’ll find another way to reach Mt. Helos and deal with the Maeceni,” Taliesin said as she glanced at Bonaparte. “I think it’s time we take our leave and return to Ascalon for the night.”
“It is too late to leave,” Bonaparte announced. “They’re here.”
* * * * *
Chapter Twenty-Two
Dark shadows flickered across the snow, and strange cries echoed from the entrance of Nethalburg, swaddled within the trees, as a cold breeze stirred the branches. The sharp crack of ice splintered the silence, and Taliesin stiffened at the sound of marching feet. Creatures tucked within the trees grew uneasy and faded from view. Captain Tillion came to att
ention, and at his signal, the guards and soldiers stood straight and held their torches higher. Taliesin repressed the urge to draw Ringerike as frost appeared on the leaves and on her red-scale armor. The tip of Bonaparte’s nose glistened with ice, and he snorted tiny flames until it melted and then stood and quickly pulled Taliesin to her feet.
“Show no fear,” Bonaparte whispered.
The soldiers moved aside while Captain Tillion and his guards surrounded Lady Madera, making Taliesin even more nervous. If they feared for Madera’s life because she talked to Taliesin and the dragon, Taliesin worried it would be impossible to convince General Folando and the Duchess to help her fight the Maeceni. She moved closer to Bonaparte as she saw humpbacked ghouls with long noses and bulbous eyes leading the army. Winged demons marched with shambling corpses covered in thick moss and armed with spears. This was the Hellirin infantry, and without glancing in the guests’ direction, they marched to the mouth of the cave and vanished. The next line of troops were skeletons in black armor that clattered and clanked. At the sound of a horn, they maneuvered into position and formed a large circle around Taliesin, Bonaparte, Madera, Tillion, the guards in black armor, and the few soldiers that had joined them. The hisses and snarls from the skeletons brought Madera gliding forward, and she lifted a hand into the air.
“The Raven Mistress and dragon are not to be harmed,” Madera said in a stern voice. “They are my guests and have come to speak with my brother.”
There were hundreds of soldiers in the Dark Wood, perhaps thousands, creating a tight press of bodies in the clearing. Out of instinct, Taliesin gripped the hilt of her sword with her right hand and lifted it an inch from the scabbard. A bright blue light surrounded her, and shined on Bonaparte and Madera. She clearly heard a sharp intake of breath from the soldiers, and the skeleton troops lowered their spears with jabbing motions.
“Don’t draw your blade,” Bonaparte said. “If you want the general’s help, there is a way Madera did not mention, for personal reasons. Akyres lives by the warrior’s code, Taliesin. Challenge him to a fight. If you defeat him, he must help you; it is the way of the Hellirin and the Lorian.”
Taliesin gulped. “Are you serious? What if I lose?”
“Don’t,” he said. “His honor means more to him than anything, even the love of his duchess. Once challenged, Akyres will have no choice but to fight you to avoid shame.”
“Has anyone ever challenged him?”
“Many. None ever defeated him, but they did not have Ringerike.”
“Good to know,” Taliesin said as she closed her visor.
“Move aside!”
At a loud shout from an officer hidden in the ranks, the soldiers parted to allow a large figure, dressed in dark purple armor, to ride to the front. Taliesin had seen General Folando before, from a distance, and realized he was the mighty warrior riding an armored polar bear. In his right hand, he carried a spiked mace that glittered with iridescent lights, but she didn’t know its name as it was not listed in John Mandrake’s book of illustrations and stories about magical weapons. A visor shaped like a human skull kept Folando’s face from view. The bear, however, flashed its yellow fangs as the general slid off its back and removed a triangular shield bearing the emblem of a crescent moon from the saddle.
“What is going on, Madera? Why is Bonaparte here? And who is his companion?” Folando’s voice echoed from his helmet, a deep, powerful voice that made Taliesin tremble inside her armor. He put the shield on his arm and lifted his mace as he braced his feet. “Do they come without an invitation?”
“Brother, these are my friends,” Madera said. “You know Bonaparte, and this is Taliesin. They have come to ask for your help against the Maeceni. Ragnal has taken Zarnoc and many others captive, and King Almaric now marches on the Magic Realms.”
“Yes, not that Boran convinced me to turn back. I haven’t met a commander or king yet who didn’t take it as a personal insult when an alliance was broken, and that is precisely what has happened!” Folando lifted his visor. The general was not a handsome man; thin lips were pulled into a grimace that would have terrified a child, black paint circled his eyes, and red war stripes covered the left side of his face. His thick eyebrows slammed together over ice-cold pale eyes.
“Will you not greet me with the customary kiss?” Madera asked.
“No, I will not, for I may have to kill your friends.”
“General Folando, I am blood of your blood,” Taliesin said in a loud voice. “Surely that gives me some right to speak with you?”
“Then speak!”
“I just came from Padama. Almaric Draconus has taken the Ebony Throne, and with the help of Ragnal, has already turned thousands of Caladonians into Wolfen. I have no doubt they have entered Fregia and now march on Nethalburg and Duvalen, but if you will agree to join me, we can march on Mt. Helos before they arrive, kill Ragnal, Varg, and the other Maeceni, and prevent the spread of Varguld.”
“If you want my help, then give me Skarda.”
“As I cannot do that, I challenge you to single combat!” Taliesin stepped away from Bonaparte and Madera and drew the Raven Sword. Blue light burst from the blade and surrounded Taliesin, and she noticed Folando’s eyes reflecting the same blue light. “If I defeat you, General, you must help me.”
“If you lose, you will become a Hellirin,” Folando snarled. “I accept your challenge, Raven Mistress. Everyone, move aside, and give us room to fight. We will fight here and now!”
“No bloodshed,” Madera cried out. She stepped between Taliesin and her brother. “Blood does not need to be spilled, brother. Let us speak to Duchess Dolabra. I’m sure when she hears what Taliesin has to say, she will agree to send you to Mt. Helos with the Raven Mistress.”
“Dolabra comes by sled,” Folando said. “It will be overlong before she arrives. I see the girl carries Korax’s sword. Interesting. You should not have brought her here, dragon. I have no doubt you told her to challenge me; I should fight you instead, Bonaparte.”
“Care to try?” Bonaparte said, growing. He stopped at ten feet.
Folando hissed. “My quarrel is not with you, old one. Move aside.”
“That’s right. This is between you and me, General Folando.” Taliesin pointed her sword at the general, wondering what King Korax would have thought had he lived to see his heir fight his former friend. “You know what this sword can do,” she said. “If blood must be spilled, then let there be blood.”
“Spoken like a Folando,” the general replied.
“Hold!”
The loud, sharp voice of a woman stirred the army, and Folando came to attention. He bowed low as Duchess Dolabra arrived in a sled pulled by snow leopards. In her white fur cloak and silver crown, she cut a regal figure, until she threw aside the fur pelt on her lap and stepped out of the sled. Dolabra’s lips curved into scythe-like smile and she waved her ring-covered fingers in the air. A skeleton-thin soldier on a large green lizard rode forward. Across the back of his lizard hung strips of human flesh and the pelts of dozens of giant wolves, ripped from the backs of Wolfmen they’d met along the way. The blue light from the Raven Sword illuminated the duchess’s pale skin and revealed gaunt cheeks that appeared bruised.
“This is what we do to those who dare encroach on our kingdom,” Duchess Dolabra said in a bitter voice as she pointed at her trophies. “I was not expecting to see you so soon, Raven Mistress. I know why you are here. No one has ever defeated General Folando in single combat; once I raise you from the dead, you and that sword will be mine. We will then march on Mt. Helos!”
Taliesin noticed soldiers slipping through the trees, attempting to surround her, and she pointed the sword at the duchess. “Your Highness, I intend to abide by the Hellirin rules of combat,” she said. “If I win, I get the army. Do you agree?”
“You do not have the ring,” Duchess Dolabra said. “I know Madera gave it to you a thousand years ago. Now you dare come here without it and challenge the greatest of
all Hellirin warriors to fight you. It will be a fight to the death! Kill Folando and the army is yours, Raven Mistress…but, I do not think you can.”
“If she kills Akyres, he cannot rise again,” Madera said, horrified. “In the past, the fight has stopped at first blood, Your Grace.”
“One must die. One will live, again. Those are my terms. Now fight!”
With shield and mace, Folando marched to a section cleared by the soldiers, and Taliesin followed. The soldiers, both skeleton and darkling fairies, held their torches high and formed a ring around the combatants. Taliesin and Folando bowed to the Duchess. As Ringerike generated a blue orb which grew in density around Taliesin, a purple light surrounded the general, coming from a magical ring, visible outside his gauntlet on his right index finger.
“Do you bleed blue, girl?” Folando snarled.
He did not wait for Taliesin’s response. The crack of his steel-tipped boots on the frost announced his brutal attack, and he slammed his mace into the blue orb. He made no audible sounds, not a grunt or a snarl. Folando was relentless, a machine that would not stop; each swing harder than the last, for he did not tire. Each of Folando’s strikes brought applause from Dolabra, who stood on the bench, surrounded by her soldiers, while Madera remained hidden behind raised shields. The duchess drank from a silver chalice and raised it high as the mace slammed into the orb. This time, the force behind the blow pushed Taliesin back a step. It did not seem possible, but her muscles ached. She had no idea what magical weapon Folando was using, but its power was immense; another few hits and she would be unable to fight.
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