by Sela Croft
“I’m sure you’re correct,” I said. “But my abilities are useful. It would be to your advantage to have sorcery working for you, and not always against you.”
Alban crossed his arms. “Sorcery should have been mine all along. You are only righting a wrong by allying with me.”
I didn’t want to go too far, lest the king doubt my sincerity. “I didn’t say that I’m allying with you. Only that I will do this one thing for you, if you keep to your bargain and let me live.”
“Agreed.”
I’d won the first round, but the game wasn’t over. “To wield my abilities, I must be able to move. There are a few things I can do, as you witnessed. But there is much more available to you; all you need to do is release me.”
The king balked.
“Your guards are by the door, and I assume that more are in the hall. You have no reason to be concerned,” I said. “I merely wish to show you what you’ve acquired by procuring my help.”
The king couldn’t seem to resist that. He anticipated a demonstration of what he’d bargained for, and I was just as anxious to show him.
“Guards…release her.”
Within seconds, I was freed. I sat up and dangled my legs over the table. It had been a while since the last torture, so I’d partially recovered. I wished to make a show of strength, so didn’t let on that I had any remaining aches and pains.
To warm up, I did a few easy tricks. I levitated a couple of implements of torture then released them, so they crashed to the ground. Alban watched without interfering. Next, I created fireballs but didn’t put them close to the king. After the flash of fire, I extinguished each one.
I was certain the king was jealous—even of such minor demonstrations—because they were abilities he didn’t possess. He hated for anyone to be more powerful than he was. Even if someone was, he’d refuse to admit it.
“Why don’t you try?”
The king stared at me. “You know very well that—”
“You just haven’t attempted it before.” I paused for a beat. “It didn’t occur to you. I’m certain that you were being deceived. Sorcery is a skill that can be learned and practiced. But only if you have power.”
“What do you mean?”
“You are the most powerful one in the kingdom,” I said. “It was a trick not to enlighten you about the extent of your capabilities.”
“That witch Selene kept that from me. She didn’t want me to rise to my full potential.” Alban puffed out his chest. “She wished to keep it all for herself, to make me think she had great value.”
“I believe you are correct,” I said. “But you are too smart. You’ve figured it out. Now let’s see what you can do. Try to lift that knife.”
Alban stared at the knife and strained a bit. His jaw stiffened, and his brow furrowed. But the object didn’t budge. He appeared dismayed.
“Sorcery takes practice,” I said. “I’ll give a few tips, then I’m sure you’ll catch on. Try it again, only this time…feel your power.”
Alban looked encouraged and attempted to lift the knife. This time it lurched up but dropped quickly.
“You see,” I said. “Each time, you’ll be stronger.”
“You helped me. That’s the only explanation.”
“That wasn’t necessary. You made the knife lift by yourself.” By the king’s expression, I thought I’d made my point. He was quick to grab on to the idea that he would improve with repeated tries.
Alban glared at the knife, completely ignoring me. I surreptitiously made the knife rise all the way this time. When the king looked away, startled, the knife dropped to the floor.
“You lost focus,” I said. “You could have kept the knife in the air for as long as you wished.”
“What else can I do?”
“Would you like to try creating fireballs?”
“How do I do that?”
“Feel your power like before, but this time get an image in your mind of a fireball, just like one I made.”
The king looked toward the wall, then stared into space.
I created a medium fireball that fizzled when the king looked up, aghast.
“You learn very fast,” I said. “Your power is greater than any other I’ve encountered. I believe you should show your palace guards. They will be very impressed, and tremble before you as their master.”
Alban couldn’t seem to wait to flaunt his newly gained ability. He ordered the guards to call all the rest to the hallway, so he could demonstrate his great skill.
It wasn’t long before the door opened, then a guard waved toward the outer hall. Alban stepped out of the cell, and I followed. He stood before his stoic guards, like a magician about to perform a trick.
“You’ll do it even better this time,” I said.
Alban looked over the row of guards standing along the wall. There were twenty in all, including the two who had watched over me. He stared into space, squinting his eyes, then flames burst forth in the air.
The guards stared at the fireball, apparently unsure what to do.
“I am more powerful than you imagined,” Alban said. “You’d do well to remember that.”
An image of the first teams of humans moving toward the exit entered my mind; they’d made it that far. I blocked out any distraction. I couldn’t afford to lose Alban’s attention. I was aware that Curtis had obtained keys to the cells from servants who tended to the prisoners. It was important that the guards remain entertained, while the humans were extricated, along with any incarcerated vampires.
“Your king can do much more than that,” I said, loud enough to make the guards look at me. “He cannot be personally attacked, because he is able to create a shield that protects him.”
The king turned to me.
“It’s not much different than what you’ve already achieved,” I said. “Imagine a force field around you that is so strong that even all your guards couldn’t break through.”
Alban’s eyes glowed as he refocused. He was certain that he was achieving magical things. I created a shield around him, hoping it was strong enough for the demonstration.
I waved at the guards, who came forth timidly at first. They weren’t used to attacking their master. “There’s no danger,” I said. “The king is all-powerful.”
The guards pushed forth in a throng, with surprised looks on their faces when they were unable to get any closer than a foot from their master. The king stood firmly behind the shield, in awe of himself.
While the king was distracted, I waved my arms to control the weather on the mountaintop. Thunder boomed above, then bolts of lightning sliced into the icy slopes and hail pummeled the ground. It was my signature performance. If Draven was near—which I prayed he was—the sudden shift in weather would assure him that I was in the palace.
Chapter 22 – Draven
I’d prepared my troops then ridden through the castle gates faster than I’d thought possible. I’d informed my comrades that Alban had taken Mirela. There could be no other explanation. We rode hard, focused on arriving before the ultimate disaster.
I didn’t know what to expect, so brought any available soldiers with me. We raced to the mountain region, but halted before approaching. I didn’t want to alert the royals. There was no sign of Alban’s army, and I wished to keep it that way.
It might be possible to slip past the gatekeepers, get inside the palace, and save Mirela. That was my first priority. Battle might ensue, but I intended to get her out beforehand. It was a very dicey proposition. I’d already witnessed the royals in combat, and hoped to delay any encounter with them.
The lieutenants organized their men, taking factions to different areas. Instead of staying together, it was better to divide up. The royals would have a more difficult time taking us down. My soldiers were ordered to remain under cover at various locations around the base of the mountains.
Then I went with Quin, Spence, and Jon closer to the palace. We had a unit of soldiers with us in t
he event of a fight. The palace looked quiet, which might indicate that the Royal Army hadn’t anticipated our arrival.
With my men right behind me, I wove toward the mountain slope, staying out of sight. We approached the side, not the front, where other peaks blocked the view from above. I commanded my soldiers to spread out over the mountain and be prepared.
Then I took my closest comrades with me, along with a handful of other soldiers. If I brought too many, it would be difficult to stay out of sight. Yet I needed reinforcements, in the event that I had to face the palace guards. We moved slowly toward a path leading up to the fortified walls.
It was smarter to creep upward than to levitate, as it gave us a greater chance of not being spotted. The dark sky was filled with clouds that hovered above the spires of the palace like a fog. The stars seemed hidden in the inky black, and the moon cast a pale glow over the scene.
Then a roar of thunder made me look up. The air crackled and lightning bolts rained down from above, followed by buckets of hail. I turned to my comrades. “It’s Mirela.” My heart soared. My love was alive. I couldn’t bear to think of what condition she might be in. My greatest desire was to get her to safety.
We sped our pace, while keeping out of sight near the backside of the mountain. Then I paused, unsure what was happening. A stream of people flowed down a narrow path on the far side of the mountaintop. They were human.
I held up my hand. “Don’t attack. They don’t appear armed.”
Quin followed me toward the progression of people. When we got close, a thin, middle-aged man walked toward us, holding the hand of a petite woman. “Are you the leader?” I said.
“Yes, I am guiding all the servants out. My name is Curtis, and this is my wife Emma.”
“What is going on?”
“Are you Draven?”
“Yes, I am. I lead the Guardians.”
Curtis sighed. “That’s a relief.” He proceeded to relay the plan, describing how the servants had fled the palace.
“What about Mirela?” I said.
“I don’t know,” Curtis said. “She told us not to be concerned, that we should get out quickly. Then she would deal with the rest.”
“There are so many of us,” Emma said. “I’m worried for the sick ones.”
“Spence…Jon…get more soldiers. Help these people get to the bottom of this mountain,” I said. “And be discreet. I don’t want the entire Royal Army to descend upon them.”
The humans continued down the steep path and welcomed the aid of my troops. With their assistance, it was possible they’d make it to the bottom. That depended on not alerting Alban’s monsters, whom I hoped were holed up in their barracks like slumbering bears.
Quin and I continued toward the palace with a band of soldiers. I marveled at how Mirela had managed to free the servants. Yet, if they were to live much longer, I’d need to ensure that Alban didn’t have a chance to get to them.
My mind ran wild with what might be going on inside the palace. I didn’t understand why there were no guards posted along the parapet. As I crept closer, I prayed that Mirela was unharmed.
At last, we reached the palace walls then moved toward the back where the escape tunnel was. Curtis had described its location well, so it wasn’t difficult to spot. The opening was behind large boulders that were covered with ice.
Inside the palace, we were met with silence. We navigated the stairs without running into a single guard. Once I was in the hallway, I sensed Mirela and knew she wasn’t far. I began to move in that direction but was overcome with a strange sensation.
Alban’s presence seemed strong, and I perceived his power. But something was off. It was different than I’d experienced before. Concerned, I flagged my men to move faster. I thought of Mirela facing the evil king, and adrenaline flooded my veins.
Before turning a corner, I stopped. It was Mirela’s voice. “Your display of power is magnificent. But you haven’t begun to reach your limits.”
The hallway glowed as if electrified. Whatever the power being emanated, it was strong. Mirela kept talking to the king, flattering and encouraging him. I didn’t believe for a second that she had changed her opinion of him. But I had no doubt that the king was soaking in the admiration.
“No god can outdo me now,” Alban said. “I have the ultimate power. It’s all I’ve been missing. The kingdom is mine.”
I’d heard the king’s ranting many times, but he sounded like a raving lunatic. The brightness in the hall increased to a nearly blinding level. I feared for Mirela, so I peeked around the corner. Energy pulsed around her, and I deduced that Alban was in a manic state.
The king waved his hands furiously, then barked at his guards, “Out of my sight! I don’t need you. My strength cannot be challenged.”
The guards began to scurry away, apparently unwilling to question the mighty king. Mirela would be alone with Alban looming over her. I waved my men forward, then fighting broke out as soon as the guards became aware of our presence.
While my soldiers engaged in battle, and Quin fought alongside them, I raced toward Mirela. A beefy guard blocked my path and brandished his sword. I yanked the whip from my belt and snapped it around his neck. While he was down, I plunged my sword into his chest.
Another guard leapt toward me, but I dodged. When he spun to attack, I jumped and kicked both feet into his gut. The force knocked him back without taking him to the floor. But in the split second that he was thrown off, I dug my knife into his heart.
While the fighting continued behind me, I levitated then flew toward my love. The heat and light surrounding her was intense. Alban was shouting, but Mirela looked at him calmly. She was like a marionette dangling a puppet on a string.
Alban continued to spout insanities, while Mirela egged him on. Whatever she was doing had clearly affected the king. He appeared to be in a trance, high on his own power. But I was intent on rescuing Mirela, before his monsters heard the ruckus and descended upon us.
Chapter 23 – Draven
Before Alban’s monsters realized what was going on inside the palace, I had to get Mirela out. It was fortunate that the Royal Army wasn’t capable of making independent decisions. The monster forces had been trained to wait for their king to command them. If he didn’t give an order, they might not take action—the downside of creating an utterly subservient army.
The energy that filled the room seemed as if it was too much for the space. Light pulsed, growing ever brighter. I witnessed the effect Mirela had on Alban, although I wasn’t sure exactly what she’d done. Her attention was focused on the king, so she didn’t look my way.
There was one guard standing close to Alban, wide-eyed at his performance. The king was shouting, but most of it was unintelligible. The light of the room made his white hair glow, and energy seemed to radiate around him like a full-body aura.
The king’s blood-red eyes were as shiny as rubies, and his parchment skin looked translucent. He stood tall, almost godlike, surveying the room. It was a frightening sight, for I had not seen him in such a state before. I stared at him, wondering if he’d even notice if I crossed the room to Mirela—since he was so engrossed in what he was doing.
Mirela had her hands held out toward the king and didn’t take her eyes off him. I took a step toward her, but my motion caught the king’s attention. The guard focused on me, so I stopped. He was closer to Mirela, and I didn’t want to give him a chance to reach her before I did.
Alban looked at me, and his face contorted with rage. “You have the nerve to enter my palace! You are not my son anymore. I will take your life, as surely as I’d take that of any enemy.”
“I’ve come for Mirela,” I said. “She can’t survive in this putrid place. You have no right to detain her.”
“You dare to defy me,” the king said. “You don’t realize my power. You never did. You’ll be sorry for that; I promise you.”
I took another step toward Mirela, but I was still too far away. The
guard leered at me.
“Let her go,” I said to Alban. He was in an unpredictable mood, with wild, staring eyes. I had to save Mirela before it was too late.
“I will never let her go!” Alban shouted. “Her sorcery is mine. She promised it to me. You cannot have her, and it won’t matter anyway. My guard will see that you don’t leave my palace. You’ve lost, my pitiful son.”
I judged the distance to Mirela, wondering if I could get to her before the guard did his worst. “You’ve misjudged the situation. I will leave here with my love. You cannot stop me.”
“Mirela is mine!” Alban yelled. “She taught me how to do sorcery; she dispelled the lies. You see for yourself what she has enabled me to do.”
In a flash, I understood what Mirela had accomplished. The king believed that he was capable of sorcery, and Mirela was manipulating him without his knowledge. Her eyes didn’t leave the king. She clearly intended to stand there for as long as she was needed.
While the king believed he was performing magic, he was distracted from all else that was going on in his palace. Yet I knew in my heart that continuing this fiasco would destroy Mirela. I witnessed the magical energy spiraling upward, out of control. But still she pushed him, maybe beyond tolerance.
Alban behaved like a madman, waving his hands and shouting. Random objects flew into the air then crashed against the wall. Fire burst forth at the ceiling, only to disappear. Then the king called out, “You cannot harm me, Draven. I have created a shield to protect me. I’m impervious to attack.”
I didn’t care a whit about Alban. I knew the king well enough to realize that he wouldn’t stop. Having tapped into the heady feel of power, he would crave more and more. He fancied that he was immensely strong and infallible.
“I am all-powerful now,” Alban said. “I’ve been enlightened about what I’m capable of. Mirela gave me what I deserved, what is rightfully mine.”
The guard stood motionless, watching. He remained closer to Mirela, while Alban kept his eyes on me. No matter how fast I moved, the guard would reach her first. And I had no idea what Alban might do next.