Fate of Wizardoms Boxed Set

by Jeffrey L. Kohanek

  “Yes. And you are watching the best of his generation, even better than myself…and I was said to be the most talented in centuries.” His pride was tangible, forcing Brogan to rethink his evaluation of the red-haired dwarf.

  “Your people…,” Brogan said. “They cast you both out.”

  Algoron nodded. “Aye. They did not understand us.”

  Patting Algoron’s shoulder, Brogan said, “Well, I am glad to have you two with us.”

  The dwarf gave him a smile. “It wasn’t your fault the ladder broke. It was in poor condition. Anyone with meat on their bones would have had the same issue.”

  Brogan grinned, his gaze landing on Blythe. Her smirk caused his own smile to falter. He began to scramble for words when she saved him.

  “I’ll go first. Brogan can wait below to catch me in case I fall.”

  Stumbling to find the right words, Brogan chose to grunt. “Of course. I wouldn’t want you to fall.”

  She patted his cheek, smiling. “I know.”

  Upon reaching the ledge, Rawk climbed up and turned to look down at them. “Come on up,” he said, waving them along.

  Blythe went first, moving at an efficient pace, each reach sure and exact, never pausing but not rushing, either. Next was Adyn, who hurriedly climbed the wall with ease. Rhoa followed, scaling the wall like a spider and reaching the top faster than Brogan thought possible.

  “You next,” Algoron said, patting Brogan on the back.

  He gripped an opening level with his chest and another above his head. His big boot barely fit into the lowest opening, but he would not be deterred. With a long, slow breath of determination, he began his ascent, reaching for one handhold after another.

  As a big man, climbing had never been friendly to Brogan, his ever-present contention with gravity intervening, causing trouble others might avoid. But he refused to concede, his anger escalating in his own private fight, growls and grunts emitting with each upward reach. Despite his steadfast intentions, he began to lag, his arms growing heavy, his breath coming in gasps. He looked up, the ledge still ten feet above, and considered giving up.

  I will not give in, he told himself. Would Despaldi quit halfway up the wall? He is no better than I am. And he was determined to prove it.

  Gritting his teeth, he continued upward, emitting forceful grunts with each grip, spit spraying from his lips. Fighting through the weariness, Brogan pulled himself upward until his face cleared the ledge. Rawk gripped him beneath his arms and pulled, helping him up until he lay on his stomach. Two deep breaths later, he rose to his knees, then his feet.

  His gaze swept across the others lined up along the ledge. Other than Rhoa, each of them had their back pinned against the wall. When he saw Rawk at the far end of the line, he realized someone was missing.

  Above the rush of the river below, he shouted, “Where are Jace and Narine?”

  Rawk shrugged, glancing toward the dark opening of the tunnel ahead. “They were gone when I reached the ledge.”

  Algoron climbed up and dusted himself off. “All right. Let’s go kill some goblins.”

  Jace advanced down the dark tunnel as rapidly as he dared, his eyes focused on the gloom ahead. The dim light Narine held above his shoulder ate away at the darkness as they hurried along the narrow path, the rocky ceiling just tall enough so neither of them needed to duck. Brogan would definitely have to crouch, he thought. He suspected the tunnel had been shaped by dwarfs, the walls too smooth to be natural.

  The passage continually curved to the right. Jace imagined the path following the cavern wall outside, leading them back toward the tunnel they had taken when they first arrived at Kelmar. The rocky floor had a gradual but continuous upward slope. Although the incline was minimal, it was over a long distance, more than a quarter mile by the time it leveled.

  Noise ahead had him lurching to a stop. Narine ran into his back, nearly causing him to fall forward. Her arm wrapped about his torso as she tried to maintain balance, the added weight causing him to shuffle his feet to prevent falling.

  He turned back to her, whispering, “Did you forget? We are trying to sneak.”

  She pressed her lips together. “Of course I didn’t forget. I just didn’t expect you to stop so abruptly.”

  “Well, that’s what happens when a thief hears someone nearby. We stop and listen. Now hush.”

  Narrowed eyes stared back at him, her mouth twisting until he feared she might shout, but no noise emerged. He flashed her a glare of warning before turning way and listening.

  It was distant, but he heard rustling, grunting, and an unintelligible, guttural language.

  Waving her along, he crept forward, his footsteps silent. Despite her lack of physical grace, she was nearly as quiet, her slippered footsteps and the rustling of her dress unlikely to draw attention until they were quite close.

  An opening in the floor appeared a dozen strides ahead. He stopped again, gripping her to ensure she did not stumble.

  “Douse the light,” he whispered.

  She took his hand and darkness invaded, leaving him completely blind. He waited for his eyes to adjust, staring down the dark tunnel. Slowly, shapes began to appear. An edge here, a dark outline there, dim light pouring through the opening. He eased forward, and the noises he had heard grew increasingly louder. As he neared the gap, he released her hand, squatted, and began crawling. He saw the shadowy silhouettes of goblins, outlined by faint, flickering light. The monsters’ backs were facing him, clustered between the opening and the tunnel mouth, a hundred feet away. Many of the goblins were armed, the telling shapes of spears and bows visible.

  There must be two dozen of them.

  He backed away from the opening, turned, and reached around until his hand found Narine. She gasped in reaction to his hand placement. Smirking, he moved his hand until he found her arm, gripped it, and drew her close, whispering. “There are enemies in the tunnel below, too many to fight. Can you get rid of them?”

  “You want me to kill them?”

  “Yes. These aren’t people. They are twisted, evil monsters. Just set them on fire or something. Make it chaotic.”

  “Energy spells are extremely difficult for women. If not for the bracelet, I couldn’t manage much more than a candle worth of flame.”

  “Do you have a better idea?”

  A moment passed before she sighed. “Fine. Bring me close to the opening.”

  Squatting low, still holding her arm, he crept ahead, moved to the side, and pointed at the shapes visible in the tunnel below.

  Narine waved her hands through the air, the hair on his arms standing on end. Bright, hot flames shot through the opening, the roar of the fire rumbling mightily. The blaze engulfed the nearest cluster of goblins, the monsters shrieking, flailing, some falling to the ground, others trying to escape. She released the flames, the only light now coming from the tunnel below. Her shoulders slumped in exhaustion, beads of sweat on her brow.

  He put a hand on her shoulder. “That was wonderful.”

  Leaning down, he peered into the lower tunnel, much taller than the one they were in and easily wide enough for five men to walk astride. Behind the opening, he found nothing. Ahead were the scattered, charred remains of goblins, some still smoldering. He said a quick prayer to the gods and leapt down, bending his knees with the landing. With a better viewpoint, he peered down the tunnel.

  The gap between the rocky walls grew wider between his position and the mouth ahead. There, a cluster of goblins stood armed and ready. He did a quick count. Eight of the wiry monsters remained.

  They must have run away when she used her magic. It will only be a moment before they decide it is safe to come back.

  Jace looked up and waved Narine along. “Jump down.”

  “It’s a ten-foot drop.” She shook her head. “I’ll hurt myself.”

  “Narine… Just do it before these monsters return. I’ll catch you.”

  “You will catch me?”

  He glan
ced back and saw the goblins advancing warily. “Yes. Hurry. I would rather not fight them alone.”

  More monsters appeared from beyond the tunnel, joining those who had survived her magic, their numbers swelling greatly. He suddenly realized he had made a mistake.

  A yip came from above. Before Jace could turn back toward her, Narine slammed into him, driving them both to the cavern floor. The breath shot from his lungs, and his head struck stone. Pain seared, his vision going black.

  35

  Dying with Style

  Brogan walked the dark tunnel in a crouch, one hand gripping Rawk’s shoulder as he led the group, his other holding Blythe’s fingers, the next person in their human chain. They had gone a good distance, albeit slowly. Rawk and Algoron both claimed they could navigate safely. All Brogan saw was blackness, as if he were floating in a void. Only the solid rock beneath his feet and the painful impact when he hit his head on the ceiling above proved otherwise.

  He had already struck it once, eliciting growls and complaints about the lack of warning. When it happened again, he rubbed at his forehead and swore at Rawk and the tunnel itself.

  A roar came from up ahead, shrieks and squeals soon following.

  “Enough of this,” Brogan growled, gripping the hilt and pulling Augur out. His surroundings bloomed to life, Rawk just ahead, the dwarf staring at him in concern, the others standing behind him, waiting.

  “I will lead.” Brogan pushed past Rawk and hurried down the tunnel.

  He picked up the pace, rounded a bend, and skidded to a halt. Light appeared ahead, the orange of fire framing Narine’s silhouette. When the silhouette disappeared through a hole in the tunnel floor, Brogan rushed forward, moving as fast as he dared. He reached the hole, crouched, and peered through the opening, Rawk doing the same a moment later.

  On another tunnel floor ten feet below, Narine was sprawled out on top of Jace. Not far from the couple were the blackened bodies of dead goblins.

  Narine pushed herself up, knelt beside Jace, and patted his cheek. “Jace! They are coming. Jace!”

  “Narine!” Brogan yelled. Her head jerked up in surprise. “Pull him clear. We are coming down.”

  Sitting and easing himself forward until his legs dangled over the edge, Brogan prepared to jump. Below, Narine grunted as she pulled the unconscious thief aside. Brogan pushed off and fell, his feet slamming into the tunnel floor. The momentum sent him sprawling to his hands and knees, his falchion sliding across the floor in a clatter. His surroundings grew dark the moment the hilt slipped from his hand.

  The shadows of dozens of goblins obscured the tunnel mouth. The monsters were coming in his direction.

  On his hands and knees, he scrambled for his sword. When his hand gripped the hilt, the tunnel grew five shades brighter. He rose into a fighting stance and gauged the advancing enemy, armed with rusty blades, spears, and bows. Beyond the goblins was the bright halo of magic from the shaman. In his augmented vision, their magic was foul, twisted, a beacon of evil. A lust for blood filled his thoughts. He took a step forward, then another, eager to slay darkspawn.

  When Brogan drew his sword, Narine shifted her focus back to Jace. She grappled for her magic, the effort required forcing her to concentrate. Even with the added power of the bracelet, the fire she used to clear the tunnel had taxed her, the toll of an energy construct draining her to a dangerously low level.

  Women weren’t meant for such magic, she told herself. We were, however, meant for healing.

  The construct of repair solidified above Jace, and she mentally reached through it, probing him for injuries. She used the construct to flush the blood that had gathered at the back of his skull, then sealed the wound. While his brain was likely rattled, she needed him awake, so she twisted the construct to one of mental manipulation, planting the impression of shock. His eyes flashed open and he gasped, bolting upright, panting.

  “Easy…” She placed a hand on his arm. “You hit your head.”

  Adyn jumped from the tunnel above and landed a stride away, the thud of her boots on stone preceding the ring of her blades being drawn.

  The bodyguard looked down at Narine. “You know how I hate when you run off without me.”

  Brogan was five strides ahead, his sword ready as goblins came running toward him.

  “Stay here,” Adyn said, taking three steps before planting herself. “I will handle any monsters that make it past him.”

  The goblins charged. Brogan met them with a slashing sword, his heavy falchion hacking left and right. The blade cut through a spear shaft, lopped off a goblin arm, and buried in the shoulder of another. The next swing sliced across two torsos, shrieks of pain filling the cavern, joining Brogan’s angry roars.

  Blythe landed in a squat. Rising to a ready stance with bow in hand, she drew an arrow. “Brogan, Adyn, shift left.”

  Both warriors did as requested, and the woman began loosing arrows, taking out two goblins in rapid succession.

  When Blythe dropped from sight, Rhoa moved forward and prepared to jump. A hand gripped her arm.

  “Don’t.”

  She turned toward Rawk. “What’s wrong?”

  “It is already crowded down there. You won’t be of much help.” In the darkness, she could barely see his face. “This tunnel continues on. I think… I think we should follow it.”

  “Agreed,” Algoron said from behind her. “It leads toward Kelmar.”

  Rawk’s hand gripped hers, drawing her with him. He circled the hole in the cavern floor and ducked into a smaller tunnel, the surroundings again lost to the darkness. Despite the power she sensed in his thick, strong hands, he held hers in a gentle but steady grip. She trusted him and moved without hesitation, knowing he would see her through safely.

  As before, the tunnel sloped upward. Soon, in a room that appeared to be ten feet across and just as deep, light appeared through a window. She passed Rawk and rushed toward it, the opening two feet wide and half the height. Reaching it, she peered through, Rawk at her side.

  The domed cavern and the city of Kelmar lay before them. Stone buildings burned, the streets thick with goblins. Directly below was the shelf with the bonfire surrounded by goblin shaman. Even as she looked down at the flames, the shaman worked their magic, raising another fireball and launching it toward the city.

  Between the bonfire and the tunnel entrance below, a cluster of two dozen armed goblins huddled, eager to enter the tunnel.

  “Back away, Rhoa.” Rawk turned toward Algoron. “Let’s open this tunnel, Uncle. Darkspawn stand below it.”

  Algoron moved forward with a deep chuckle. “I would like nothing better.”

  The dwarfs separated, moving as far apart as the small cave allowed. Running their hands along the wall, the two Makers worked their magic, the stone cracking, chipping, fracturing. When they could reach no higher, Rawk and Algoron ran their outstretched hands along the rock and toward each other until they met. They put their palms against the wall and pushed. Loud snapping sounded, followed by a low rumble. The wall tilted outward slowly, then collapsed, boulders, rocks, and debris raining down, stirring up a cloud of dust.

  “Die!” Brogan shouted as he leveled his falchion in a mighty attack.

  Two unlucky goblins stepped into the arc of his swing. The blade cleaved completely through the first monster and buried deep into the second, sticking in place. Brogan was forced to plant a boot on the goblin while yanking Augur free.

  A spear plunged toward him, too fast for him to react. The flash of Adyn’s sword spun past, the spear tip flipping sideways off the broken shaft. With her other blade, she stepped past him with a slicing lunge, eviscerating the attacking goblin.

  Adyn scrambled backward. “Now, Blythe!”

  A flurry of three arrows sailed past, taking a goblin in the throat, another in the chest, the third in the stomach.

  By then, Brogan had recovered. He flexed and roared, stepping over dead bodies while his blade whistled through the air.


  Jace blinked and fought through the cobwebs in his head. It felt like he had awoken from a deep sleep, disoriented and confused by the surrounding chaos.

  “You hit your head,” Narine said, her hand on his arm. “I healed you the best I could, but your brain remains bruised.”

  His memories came flooding back – the cavern, the goblin attack, the dark tunnel. Blythe stood just a few feet away, loosing arrows in timed volleys. Ahead of her were Adyn and Brogan, the latter surrounded by dead goblins.

  Slowly rising to his feet with a groan, the cavern tilted. He wobbled, and Narine steadied him.

  “Your head, Jace. You need rest.”

  “We don’t have time for rest.” Not while my friends might be dying. “You stay here. If anything happens to us, we need your healing abilities.”

  Taking a deep breath, he drew a throwing blade from each of his sleeves and eased forward, hugging the left wall of the tunnel since Blythe shot along the right.

  “Don’t die on me, Jace,” Narine shouted from behind him. “I need you.”

  Despite the danger ahead, a smile spread across his face. She needs me.

  Two goblins rushed Brogan, and the big man decapitated them in a single, ferocious stroke. Their headless bodies collapsed to reveal archers behind them.

  “Look out!” Jace bellowed.

  Adyn and Blythe were quick to react, the first dropping flat to the floor, the other pinning herself against the wall. Brogan tried to move but was too slow, his left shoulder lurching backward, an arrow protruding from it. The big man grunted as another struck his thigh. He fell to one knee, still gripping his sword.

  Jace leapt forward and released one blade, it spinning over Brogan’s shoulder and burying into the chest of a goblin archer. A twang came from behind him and an arrow sailed past. The other goblin archer squealed, dispatched by Blythe’s arrow.