by Jason Kenyon
‘Is it worth just stopping until we’ve killed Zillon?’ Anjilo asked.
‘I’m not eager to wait for paladins to catch us, or for Salestis to carry out her plan, for that matter,’ Archimegadon replied, thinking back to the wasted time trying to trap Zillon before. ‘We should keep moving.’
‘Archie’s right,’ Mellara said. ‘Salestis isn’t going to wait for us.’
‘But we have to do something about him!’ Anjilo said.
‘I couldn’t see a sign of him,’ Archimegadon said. ‘Whoever he is, he is certainly good at hiding.’
‘If we go chasing after him, we’ll either make ourselves look stupid, or get divided up and give him easier pickings,’ Mellara said. ‘I say we press on, and let him slip up on his own.’
‘Wish I shared your confidence,’ Anjilo said, staring over at Zillon’s arrow, which was still sticking out of the grass.
*
The companions continued their journey across Valanthas. Archimegadon was feeling perhaps at his least heroic point in quite a while. Not only did he feel alone amongst the group right now, but he also felt completely powerless against both Salestis and Zillon. The shadows were making him more nervous than ever, just to make things more stressful, and he was only slightly relieved that Ithalna was suffering from the same onset of nerves.
At this point, he almost felt eager for Valia and her demons to show up, to offer him some protection. He wasn’t particularly sure how warm she felt towards him right now, though, but from what he’d heard of her at Stornis Hold, she currently had no intentions of hunting him down or otherwise doing bad things to him.
Mellara was trailing at the back of the group for once, leaving Tharanor to lead the group with Anjilo at his side. Archimegadon, finding the group’s silence a bit oppressive, slowed down and joined Mellara instead. She looked over at him with her crimson eyes.
‘Erm, greetings, madam,’ Archimegadon said.
‘You after something?’ Mellara asked.
‘My goodness, such hostility,’ Archimegadon said. ‘I am not after anything right now, no, beyond company.’
‘Hmph.’ Mellara looked a touch more pleased, though, and her expression softened. ‘So… what can I do for you?’
‘Well, I couldn’t help but notice that you’re here at the back of the group,’ Archimegadon replied. ‘You usually favour leading, after all.’
‘Can’t be that hard to work out,’ Mellara said. ‘It’s my damned arm, Archie. Still screwed up and it’s ages since. Every time I put pressure on it, it feels like something’s about to snap in it.’
‘Ah, I see,’ Archimegadon said. He wasn’t particularly sure what to say that would make Mellara feel better.
‘I dunno,’ Mellara said, apparently fine with continuing by herself. ‘After all this time, I’m not sure it’s ever going to get better.’
‘You should not worry,’ Archimegadon said. ‘Anjilo and Ithalna know their stuff, I daresay.’
‘Ithalna?’ Mellara asked with a snort. ‘You know, I wouldn’t be surprised if she deliberately messed up healing me, just to be sure I’m no threat.’
‘Erm, well I hope that isn’t the case,’ Archimegadon said, swallowing hard. ‘I doubt it, though – she wanted you as protection, after all.’
‘Perhaps,’ Mellara said, her eyes downcast.
‘Look, you shouldn’t worry,’ Archimegadon said. ‘Healing can take a while sometimes. It will improve in time.’
‘Yeah, right,’ Mellara said, giving him a dry look. ‘You don’t know anything about healing.’
‘I learned some,’ Archimegadon said. ‘While Ithalna was treating your arm in the first place, I might add. She showed me how she did it, and even shared the feeling with me. I did not sense any treachery.’
‘You weren’t looking for it, back then,’ Mellara said, and Archimegadon felt a shiver pass through him.
*
‘I do not know that I feel up to any sort of teaching right now,’ Ithalna said.
‘At this precise moment, I feel constantly on edge about that arse Zillon,’ Archimegadon said. ‘From what I can tell, so do you. As such, I feel it would be a pleasant change to relax and do something else.’
Ithalna reached up to tug at her hair, and her fingers closed over empty space. She blinked, and then adjusted her aim, remembering that she’d had her previously-long hair cut short.
‘Well, that does sound like it might be a good idea,’ Ithalna said. ‘Once we next come to a stop I shall see what we can work on.’
It was a while before Mellara was happy for the group to pause, though. She seemed eager to travel through the night, but most of the party spoke up against that plan, seeing the dark as Zillon’s prime hunting time. There were also no settlements handy, which made it difficult for them to find cover amongst company.
‘I’ll keep guard with Tharanor,’ Mellara told Archimegadon.
‘Thank you, madam,’ Archimegadon said. ‘I am surprised that you are willing to go to this trouble just for me to have these lessons.’
‘You’re our only mage,’ Mellara said. ‘If she does teach you something useful, then I’m happy. With enemies like Zillon and the Syrakh, we’re going to need to have some good firepower at our hands.’
‘What if you decide to trust Ithalna?’ Archimegadon asked.
Mellara laughed. ‘Yeah, like that’s going to happen, old man.’
‘I suppose it is a shame that you didn’t get any of Anjilo’s explosive supplies,’ Archimegadon said. ‘You would have made an acceptable stand-in mage.’
‘Can’t have everything,’ Mellara said. ‘Now go and get on with that lesson.’
Archimegadon, Ithalna and Obdo found a slightly less-cramped spot between a few trees, where the foliage parted as though inviting people inside for secluded business. Neurion stayed with Anjilo to guard their supplies, and Archimegadon directed a glare at his back. It surprised him how much Neurion’s reaction had angered him, and he realised the extent to which he’d assumed his prior good reputation with Neurion would remain intact forever.
He wondered briefly whether he’d have felt similarly insulted if it was the work of mages that was undoing the kingdom, but then he remembered Sen Delarian’s sordid business back at Aldrack. It wasn’t really the same situation, but Archimegadon told himself that it clearly was, and satisfied himself that he was still very much in the right this time.
‘Why are you joining us, Obdo?’ Ithalna asked as she turned to face Archimegadon.
‘What, you think angry paladins are better company?’ Obdo asked.
‘I suppose not,’ Ithalna replied. ‘You have it wrong, though, both of you – Neurion is not angry, he is sad.’
‘That isn’t what it looked like to me,’ Archimegadon said.
‘I recommend that you think the matter over some more, then,’ Ithalna said. ‘After some consideration, I am certain you will come to the same realisation.’
‘After some consideration, I’m more interested in this lesson,’ Archimegadon said.
Ithalna folded her arms and tossed her head. ‘Now, if you wish for me to be doing you a favour, I advise that you take a better tone with me.’
‘This is part of your payment for me dragging you across this damned country,’ Archimegadon said. ‘I don’t much care whether you are offended or not.’
Far from looking more annoyed, Ithalna giggled. ‘Ah, you are ever becoming more of a mercenary. Perhaps soon you will be abandoning your stage name and taking a more violent outlook on your chosen profession?’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Archimegadon replied. ‘Look, let’s just get to the lesson, shall we?’
‘Very well.’ Ithalna picked up a fallen twig, which she waved through the air. ‘Let us return to the theme of wind magic.’
‘This again?’
‘You hardly mastered it the last time,’ Ithalna replied. ‘We have yet to get you casting a proper wind spell at all.’
> ‘That is a lie!’ Archimegadon said.
‘A proper wind spell would be one that is both powerful and directed where you send it,’ Ithalna said, smiling. ‘Not one that mildly rustles leaves, or blows into your own face.’
‘Perhaps that was deliberate.’
‘Some things never change with you, Sir Mage,’ Obdo said.
Archimegadon had actually been fairly enthusiastic about the lesson to begin with, but once Ithalna started, his mind drifted with ease to thoughts of holy knights and demons. He wondered what life had been like with paladins and mages working together to create the kingdom of Valanthas, using their powers to create, perhaps, rather than simply for warfare. It also occurred to him that the founder of Valanthas, Vortagenses, had been a necromancer in truth, so Valanthas had been built upon the foundations of all three major schools of magical power – Light, Elemental, and Dark magic.
So now here was Salestis of the Light, using her power to crush Elemental and Dark magic both. Archimegadon wondered whether there was some grander reason behind her hatred of all other magic users, beyond the obvious reasons for hating dark mages of course. As he continued his efforts to weave a pattern of wind out of the stagnant forest air, he thought back to how Neurion had brought the Light to their defence in the depths of the Sideslip, defending the group from Marr’s sinister powers. Could the Light not step in and put a stop to Salestis’s madness?
‘Not a bad attempt,’ Ithalna said, interrupting Archimegadon’s thoughts.
‘Hmm?’
‘Are you drifting off there?’ Ithalna asked. ‘Look, Master Forseld – you have been stirring the air, and not simply by waving your hands about.’
Archimegadon looked down where Ithalna was pointing with the twig, to see the dirt on the forest floor gently shifting in a circular pattern, as though a vortex was building up. Emboldened, he tried to put more power behind his efforts, but instead a sudden gust burst out and sent leaves and dust scattering over Ithalna’s shoes.
‘Oops.’
‘They were already brown to begin with,’ Ithalna said, shaking off her foot. ‘Your focus is both better and worse than normal. When you are not paying attention, you do a better job of manipulating the air.’
‘He’ll be a master mage with no trouble, then,’ Obdo said.
‘Shut up, Obdo,’ Archimegadon said. ‘I did feel something there, though – I think I am beginning to understand what you were saying about currents and… erm… that stuff.’
‘Quite.’ Ithalna grinned. ‘You see? You shall soon be a true wind mage, and leave behind the brutality of fire.’
‘Tush, I merely do this out of politeness,’ Archimegadon said.
‘I’m so bored,’ Obdo said. ‘I was hoping to watch Sir Mage blow himself up or something.’
‘I am certain that we can arrange for that when we study more fire magic,’ Ithalna said.
‘You’re pretty good at magic yourself, from what I’ve heard,’ Obdo said.
Ithalna put a hand to the binding around her neck. ‘Yes, I was. I do not get much opportunity to display it of late, however.’
‘Did you do much magicky-ness as the Queen?’ Obdo asked.
‘Mere parlour tricks,’ Ithalna replied, with a bitter smile. ‘They amused some courtiers, but were hardly a very useful application of my talents.’
‘Did your father train you up in magic?’ Archimegadon asked.
‘He did indeed,’ Ithalna replied, ‘and when it was not him, he made sure that I had the best tutors in Arenfel at my disposal. I would like to think that my abilities were part of my own interest in learning, but much of it is down to privilege, I fear.’
‘Must be hard, being rich,’ Obdo said.
‘Ah, Obdo, you have no idea of that way of life,’ Ithalna said. ‘Where you might go brawling in taverns, as you tell me so often, I was confined to my quarters, to be waited upon by mute servants until required to pretty up my husband’s arm as he met foreign rulers and members of the nobility.’
‘It sounds so difficult,’ Archimegadon said, rolling his eyes.
‘I suppose it is hard to explain,’ Ithalna said. ‘Do not misunderstand me – I am not saying that it was a hard way of life. However, it was very tedious, and lonely. I had few people in whom I could confide, little by way of true entertainment, and was required to give up hours at a time to nod and smile aimlessly at my husband’s side just so I could make him appear all the more impressive to dignitaries.’
‘Hmm, I imagine that would not have been terribly interesting,’ Archimegadon said. ‘All the same, the safety of it must have been relaxing compared to scrounging out a living in the rest of the kingdom.’
‘Perhaps so,’ Ithalna said. ‘As one who has sampled some of your life, compared to my former one, I can comfortably say I prefer the situation as it currently is – though I would rather be rid of this neckpiece.’
‘I wouldn’t dare defy Mellara on that,’ Archimegadon said.
‘Neither do you trust me yourself,’ Ithalna said.
‘Perhaps in time,’ Archimegadon said.
He actually wanted to like Ithalna, but he dared not risk it. A woman like her would have been no stranger to court intrigues, and he couldn’t trust that this outpouring of her heart was anything more than an attempt to garner sympathy and maybe get the shackle removed. But as to what would actually make him trust Ithalna, he could not say.
Chapter Twenty-Three: The Last Round
The next day managed, by some strange sorcery, to attract even worse weather than the downpour that had preceded Neurion’s outburst. When it didn’t clear after half an hour, Mellara lost patience and bullied the group into setting out again, though everyone was on edge about the possibility of ambush. Mellara assured them that she could still see far enough in the rain, but even her supernatural eyesight had trouble with such turbulent conditions.
‘You see, if you had a good wind mage around, she would be able to direct this rain away from us all,’ Ithalna said, walking cheerfully in the middle of the group with her hands clasped behind her back.
‘The only downpour that should worry you is the one that’ll come out of your neck if you don’t shut up,’ Mellara said, her hand hovering at the hilt of one of her daggers.
Archimegadon lamented the lost opportunity to avoid some of this dreadful rain, but supposed that Ithalna was likely exaggerating in an attempt to get her powers back. He found himself wondering if he held the key that would unlock Ithalna’s shackle, and grant her the ability to summon elemental powers once again. Moments later, his more reasonable side reminded him of just how dangerous she could potentially be, and he abandoned that train of thought.
‘Paladins,’ Tharanor said a few minutes later, and the group came to a quick halt.
‘I see them,’ Mellara said, following Tharanor’s gaze. ‘Let’s leave the path and go off to the right some, but slowly now – don’t attract any attention.’
Archimegadon thought he might be able to make out the distant shade of these supposed paladins, but couldn’t be certain. They surely could not recognise Unette from that distance – unless they had access to any sight-enhancing powers as part of their pact with the Light. Either way, he found himself following Mellara and Tharanor as they nimbly navigated their way off the path and across some sludgy terrain, cursing the sixth or seventh time he’d suffered such an indignity on this journey so far.
The wind grew noisier the further the party travelled from the path, and steadily the silhouette of trees came into focus, thrashing in the violent gales. For a moment he felt a pang of homesickness as he thought of the Forest of Gale, which, though not his home, had at least been one of his regular stops both as a handyman and a Mage for Hire.
While he was perfectly comfortable with letting Mellara take all the responsibility for their route, he did feel a bit lost since he didn’t personally know where they were in relation to anywhere civilised. It seemed that much of the northern region of Valanthas was
largely untended, perhaps as a result of its proximity to Malthair, where Tel Ariel had secretly raised many of his undead forces.
‘Lights ahead,’ Mellara said, motioning for the others to halt. ‘Doesn’t look like they’re moving – might be a settlement.’
‘For the love of all that is holy, let us please find somewhere dry to stay,’ Archimegadon said.
Mellara turned to face him, water dripping from her cowl. ‘Archie, you really – ugh!’
A sudden gust of wind blew rain into Mellara’s face, and Obdo gave Archimegadon a suspicious look.
‘That was not me,’ Archimegadon said. ‘The weather is bad enough, without my help.’
‘Ugh, whatever,’ Mellara said. ‘Let’s go and find somewhere to stay, if we can.’
‘Let me go first,’ Anjilo said. ‘If it’s a paladin camp, you guys could be in trouble.’
‘Nobody could recognise we are people, let alone criminals,’ Archimegadon said.
Fortunately for the sodden companions, the lights turned out to be lanterns hanging on a grim town wall. If anyone bothered to guard the wall, they were absent tonight, for the gates lay open and nobody came forth to challenge the companions. Archimegadon was nervous at first, but as they passed buildings they spied subdued lights indoors, and presumed that any guards had sensibly decided to stay inside tonight. While the town was quite expansive, it was built between two opposing mountains, and felt quite confined with the wall back at the entrance as well. The buildings had all been fashioned from dark stone too, and were more visible from the reflections of lanterns on the rainwater.
‘It was a dark and spooky night,’ Obdo said in a ghostly voice.
‘It’s a bloody awful night,’ Archimegadon said. ‘Is there any sign of a tavern?’
‘Think I can hear some noise up ahead a bit,’ Mellara replied.
Archimegadon tried to make out anything other than the spatter of raindrops, but gave up as Obdo started chattering with Ithalna nearby. Though he disapproved of too much association with the Cleric, Archimegadon supposed that he had little right to complain, given his ongoing magic lessons.
