She caught its movement out of the corner of her eye, but the creature suffered one of Sadyra’s well-timed arrows and fell harmlessly in front of her.
Larina glanced back at her freckled friend. Sadyra’s grim face twitched a small smile before she looked away, tracking another creature.
Thank the gods, Olmar’s eyes were open and full of wonder as they locked on Larina. His bushy beard and thick eyebrows were shrivelled by the flaming blast, his worn leather sailor’s cap lay crumpled on a block of scorched furniture.
“What did you do?” Larina asked, searching him for injuries.
“Och, lassie. Ain’t be knowin’ me own power.” A great smile split his blackened face.
Larina gave him a derisive frown. “Hit a volcano vent, more like. You alright? You can’t remain here lollygagging about.”
He pulled himself stiffly from the rubble, a pained expression on his face. “Just takin’ in me tactics from a unique vantage point.”
Larina snatched his cap and tossed it to him, Olmar’s grimace not lost on her. She shook her head. “I’ll give you a unique vantage point.”
“Where’s me ‘ammer?”
She pointed to it but didn’t attempt to retrieve it for him. “You might want to hang on to it.”
Notching an arrow, she sighted a demon bounding across the upper level, intent on something it wouldn’t reach.
Another demon dropped screeching from above, an arrow lodged in its thigh.
Larina ducked to avoid its path but Olmar’s warhammer intercepted the creature before it hit the ground. Bones shattered as the demon’s body bent around his hammerhead and catapulted away from her, dead before it hit the ground.
“Where’s Pops an’ Pollard?”
Sadyra straightened from her crouch atop a pile of debris, her ever vigilant eyes darting everywhere at once, tracking would-be targets. She pointed at something Larina couldn’t see beyond the remains of the second story.
“Pops is on the ground behind us. Pollard’s coming this way. He and two others.”
“Two others?”
Sadyra’s eyes narrowed. She jumped to a higher vantage point, dropped to a knee and notched an arrow. She snarled, “A Kraidic whoreson and another swordsm…” Her voice trailed off, the notched arrow slipping from her fingers.
“What is it? You look to be seein’ a ghostie.” Olmar stretched higher, craning his head to get a better angle. His mouth dropped open. “As sure as I’m the whelp of a tart, it cannae be.”
Pollard’s voice reached them, the happiness in its lilt plain to hear. “Lower your bow, Sadie. It’s Silurian! He’s come back to us!”
Two demons popped out of a hole beside Pollard but before the big man had a chance to react, the Kraidic warrior lopped the head off the nearest one while Silurian stabbed the second in the face with the tip of his glowing sword.
Pollard wrapped his sword arm around Silurian’s neck, almost lifting him from his feet. “I ought to strangle you. You know how much I’ve missed you?”
Silurian extracted himself, the look on his face less than happy. “My sister? Has anyone seen her? She was back here the last we saw her.”
Sister? Larina had no idea what he was talking about. She had heard so much about Silurian from Sadyra and the others, but she’d never met him before.
A muffled voice sounded beside Larina. “I’m under here.”
Larina jumped, an arrow loaded before she realized there was no one in her immediate area other than Olmar.
“I’m trapped under the ceiling.”
Under the ceiling? Her eyes were drawn to a gaping hole beyond the spot where Olmar had smote the demon under the floorboards. She approached it warily.
An orange glow illuminated the darkness. All Larina could see were delicate fingers wrapped around a wooden staff. She dropped to all fours and poked her head into the hole, half expecting to have her face ripped off, but what she saw left her breathless.
A blonde-haired woman draped in dark robes lay with her head turned away from her, clearly trapped by the weight of the wood.
Olmar clumped along the collapsed floor to join her.
“What are you doing, Lunkhead? You want to flatten her? Get off!”
Olmar froze, a puzzled look twisting his features.
“There’s a woman trapped under here.”
The man named Silurian looked down at them from the edge of what remained of the second story. “You see her? Is she all right? Mel!”
“She’s alive,” Larina answered. She poked her head in the hole again. “Are you Mel?”
“Yes.”
“Yep, she’s down here.” Larina bent into the hole again. “Are you hurt?”
“I don’t think so. I can’t move.”
“Hang on. I know someone who might be able to help.” Larina stood up. “Pollard, get down here.”
She nodded at Olmar. “I need you and the lummox to lift the floor. Get yourself in that hole you made.”
Larina waited for Pollard to find his way down but the giant sized up a landing spot and jumped. She cringed when his weight shook the floor. Men!
“Here, can you get in this hole?” Larina stepped aside and pointed. “Watch out for her arm.”
Two more thumps announced Silurian and the Kraidic warrior.
She kept a wary eye on the evil looking man with the red beard. What was Silurian doing with his sort? Didn’t he know the Kraidic Empire had aligned itself with Helleden?
“You two need to get off this section. Olmar and Pollard are going to try to lift it.”
Silurian and the Kraidic warrior did as they were asked. Silurian looked on with concern while the red-bearded hulk watched with skepticism written on his face. It was a large area of floor.
“On my mark, Olmar. Now,” Pollard said, crouching down and lifting.
The strain on the giants’ faces was obvious. Cheeks blowing out heavy breaths, eyes squinted, necks thick and arms trembling.
“They’ll never lift that. We’ll have to cut her out.” Karvus’ said to Silurian. Larina overheard him. By the angered glare Pollard and Olmar shot the Kraidic warrior, so had they.
Emitting simultaneous shouts of exertion, Pollard and Olmar straightened their legs.
Larina cupped her hands around her mouth. “How’s that, Mel? You need to move fast. They can’t hold it all day.” She glanced at the Kraidic warrior, his face alight with wonder.
“It’s slipping,” Pollard warned through clenched teeth. “I can’t hold on much longer.”
He’d no sooner said it before his hands pulled free and his section dropped with a ground shaking thud.
Everyone sucked in a quick breath. Everyone except Olmar. “Come on…lassie. Good ol’ Olmar…ain’t to be…holding this…much longer.”
His face went from deep red to purple. The veins on his temples bulged. Sweat dripped off his face. His entire body shook on the verge of collapse as a woman with dishevelled blonde hair pulled herself from the jagged hole.
Olmar waited until she cleared the space before he released the weight and collapsed to his knees.
Melody knelt beside him. “Oh my. Are you alright?”
Olmar glanced at her, his shaggy head bigger than her torso. “Aye, missy. As long as you’re safe, I am.” He winked at her.
Larina slid up to him, not happy with the way he eyed the newcomer. “Easy, Lunkhead. You’re delirious. She would eat you alive.”
Olmar glanced from Melody to Larina and gave her the biggest smile she’d ever seen. If she wasn’t so relieved he was alright, she would’ve slapped him.
Silurian jumped onto the flooring. His gaze flitted between Olmar and Sadyra, a smile lighting up his blood-splattered face.
Olmar teared up instantly. He lifted himself free of the hole and stared, his grin and the tears streaming down his cheeks were accompanied by shaking shoulders. “Silurian Mintaka. Never would I ‘ad thought to be seein’ ye again. Me ‘eart is growin’ big with ‘appiness.�
�� He held out his arms and crushed Silurian in an embrace, squeezing the breath out of the swordsman.
“Lunkhead! You want to kill him as soon as we get him back? It’s my turn.” Sadyra yanked on Olmar’s wrists until he reluctantly released Silurian.
Sadyra’s dimples went deep. Her large eyes misted over as she pulled Silurian into her embrace, openly crying on his shoulder.
Silurian cried with her. He whispered into her ear, “It’s okay, Sadyra. I’m back now.”
She nodded into his shoulder.
He held out an arm and Melody joined their embrace.
“Sadyra, meet my favourite sister, Melody.”
Melody rolled her eyes. “I’m his only sister.”
Larina smiled as Silurian took in everyone present. Pollard. Olmar. The Kraidic warrior briefly, before his bewitching ice-blue eyes widened in what she perceived as alarm.
A throwing knife appeared in her hand before she realized who had commanded his attention.
Pops picked his way through the rubble, lifting the hems of his robes to prevent them from snagging on the jagged debris.
It wasn’t lost on Larina how Silurian’s and Melody’s eyes were riveted on the grey-haired wizard.
Sadyra forgotten, Melody said, “Phazarus!” at the same time Silurian said, “Alhena!”
Gutted
Phazarus? Silurian frowned at Melody. That was the name of the previous Wizard of the North.
One never knew where Alhena looked but Silurian was sure the senior messenger to the Chamber of the Wise stared straight at him while greeting Melody like a dear friend. How could that be? The two had never met.
Melody wrapped her arms around Alhena and cried.
Silurian’s mind raced, his rubbery legs barely supporting him. What had just happened? The old man who came in search of him last year knew Melody? It didn’t make sense.
The battle they just fought with the demons flashed through his mind. He had assumed the magical blasts assisting Karvus, Pollard and himself were Melody’s doing. Thinking on it, the fireballs had come from the street.
But Alhena wasn’t a…
“Who is that?” he asked Sadyra.
“Who, Pops?” Her eyes met his and understanding filled her gaze. She stepped back. “Ohhh, you don’t know, do you? Of course.”
‘Of course, what? That’s Alhena, isn’t it?” He stared into the man’s milky white eyes. Even though his wispy white hair was much shorter and his beard barely fell from his chin, there was no denying those damned eyes. And people always said his ice-blue eyes were eerie!
He was certain Alhena watched him from over Melody’s shoulder—the old man’s thin lips curled in a sad smile.
Silurian swallowed, his voice barely audible. “Alhena?”
Alhena released Melody and nodded.
Melody stared open-mouthed at the old man. Silurian had told her so much about the man who had delivered him from darkness.
“We have much to discuss, my dear friend.” Alhena’s thin lips formed the words but Silurian had trouble concentrating.
Melody had called him Phazarus. There had to be someone else who shared the old wizard’s name. He struggled to imagine Alhena blasting the demons that had swarmed after Karvus and himself. At the time, he hadn’t worried about the identity of their benefactor, he had been thankful for the intervention.
His mind went over all the times he had faced danger in Alhena’s presence. The wolves in the trench. Seafarer’s appearance at the Undying Mountain Pools. The wicked storm that separated them in the Gritian Hills. The bar fight in Wharf’s Retreat. The transition at the portal. Losing the sailors at Debacle Lurch, and then again at the base of the sand cliffs—the same day they discovered Seafarer’s body.
He realized his jaw hung low. Stunned at the implications of the old man being a wizard.
Why hadn’t he intervened when the Voil Wizard Menthliot went rogue and almost brought the cliffs down on top of their heads? If what Melody said were true, Alhena was the old Wizard of the North. How had such a formidable wizard not seen through Thetis’ charade?
He swallowed hard. For some reason, Rook’s tale of Avarick’s heroism slammed into him. His eyes narrowed and his mouth shut tight. If Alhena truly was a wizard, something he had denied from that very first day on his doorstep, why hadn’t he helped them during the battle at the mystic river? So many good people had died that day.
His mind slogged through wet wool trying to come to terms with such a profound revelation. He fought to calm his rapid breathing. How many people were dead as a result of Alhena’s refusal to act?
Tears welled up anew. It didn’t make sense. The Alhena he knew would never allow such abominations to happen. Unless…
The Sacred Sword Voil slid from its sheath. Thetis had been a shape-changing creature Wendglow called a Morphisis—a beast capable of assuming another person’s identity.
The creature calling itself Alhena stood beside the only person Silurian truly cared about—the beast had taken on the guise of the senior messenger to the Chamber.
“Silurian, no!” Melody stepped in front of Alhena. “What are you doing?”
“Step away, Mel. Let me deal with the demon.” He absently noted his sword no longer glowed. The runes had reverted to lifeless etchings.
Sadyra grabbed his sword arm. “Master Mintaka, that’s Alhena. Your old friend. He’s on our side.”
Silurian ripped his arm free of Sadyra’s grasp, glaring murder at her. He had half a mind to slay her as well. Were they all demons?
Olmar stepped forward but stopped when Silurian pointed his sword at him. Silurian’s gaze flicked from person to person, his mind reeling. He couldn’t trust any of them.
Pollard stepped in from behind, wrapping him in a crushing bear hug, squeezing the breath out of his lungs. “I cannot allow you to go down this road.”
“You too, Pollard?” Silurian snarled.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. This is madness. We’re all friends here.”
Silurian squirmed in Pollard’s grasp but it was no use. “Alhena is a Morphisis. He’ll kill us all!”
Everyone stared at each other in confusion.
“Take my staff.” Alhena handed it to Melody and confronted Silurian.
“Release him, Pollard,” Alhena bade the giant. “He has been through a great deal, I am sure. Finding out I am not who he thought is understandably disconcerting.”
Pollard’s grip didn’t relent.
“You are correct to assume the worst. If I were in your boots, I would do the same. I assure you, I am the same man I have always been, but there is another side to me you never knew about.”
Silurian struggled to break free, mad at his inability to get at the demon when it stood so close.
Pollard’s grip increased.
“Pollard, release him,” Alhena ordered again.
“If I do, he’ll kill you.”
Alhena moved back a step. He held his palms outward. “You need to trust me, Sire.”
Sire? Only two people had ever called Silurian Sire. Alhena, many times when they first set out, and then Bregens on his deathbed.
“Do you recall our journey those first few days as we made our way toward the Undying Mountain Pools? While camping at the approach to the pass, you and I had a disagreement. You almost threw your dagger at me, and yet, the next morning I awoke with your waterproof blanket over me while you slept in the rain.”
Silurian recalled the incident clearly. He’d never forgiven himself for treating Alhena that way. “So what? Anyone could have spied on us that night.”
Alhena nodded once. “Highly unlikely, but possible. How about after the wolves attacked? You looked at me, my face covered in blood and called me a sorry looking wizard. Do you recall that? I almost spit I was so shocked by the truth of your statement.”
Silurian didn’t answer. Again, anyone may have overseen their fight. Why the wolves hadn’t attacked whoever that person, or thing
was, he didn’t know.
“Inside your hut, I carried with me a writ from the Chamber. Do you remember that?”
Silurian simply glared. He wiggled his shoulders but Pollard’s grip hadn’t let off.
“You threw the scroll at me and demanded I read it, to which I started to do…in my head. Who else would know that? In your own house? With the window I shattered when I had tried to see if you were home?”
The anger slowly seeped out of Silurian. His tense muscles eased. He gazed deep into Alhena’s eyes, desperately wanting to believe him.
Alhena smiled sadly. “You confided in me after we reunited in Madrigail Bay how hard Bregen’s death affected you. You told me of his passing and how grateful you were to hold his hand at the end. Who else in all the world would know that little piece of information.” He shrugged. “Except maybe Avarick.”
The clang of Silurian’s sword as it slipped from his hand made Alhena jump.
Alhena nodded at Pollard. “It’s ok. Let him go.”
Pollard loosened his grip but tightened it again to keep Silurian from falling.
Alhena relieved the giant of his burden, wrapping his frail arms around Silurian—the strength of his embrace belying his appearance.
Silurian didn’t return the embrace at first. Slowly, his arms wrapped around Alhena’s slight figure and he held on tight, openly weeping. He buried his head into Alhena’s shoulder. How he’d missed the old man. His first true friend in over twenty years. The one who had believed in him when all others had forsaken him.
“I hate to put a damper on this reunion,” Larina said, her eyes casting all around, “but we aren’t safe here.”
Silurian nodded his agreement into Alhena’s shoulder. He composed himself, wiped his eyes and his nose on his cuff and stepped back to study Alhena, their hands clasped together in front of them.
Sadyra, Olmar, Alhena and Pollard, all returned safely from the Under Realm along with another archer he didn’t recall. A chill shook him. He swallowed, afraid to ask the question he knew must be foremost in Melody’s mind. “What…what about Rook?”
Alhena bit his lower lip and looked down.
Melody gasped, her puffy eyes filling with tears as the relevance set in. She looked pleadingly at Alhena, as if begging him to change his answer.
Into the Madness Page 25
