“This is the second time you got impaled? Is that a kind of record?” Alex asked, trying to keep Fionn awake. Gaby rolled her eyes at the comment. But even Fionn had to admit that the question made him chuckle, which hurt a bit. “I hope it wasn’t the same guy,” Alex replied, now joking. “I mean that would be really bad luck.”
“Well…” Fionn started.
“No way!” Alex turned his head from the welding gun. “Who’s that guy anyway? Not a fan of yours apparently.”
Fionn exchanged looks with Harland, who nodded at him.
“It’s a long story,” Fionn said, weary and tired.
“Trust me, we are not going anywhere soon,” Sid yelled from inside the gaping hole in the hull. “Alex, be careful! You are going to burn my face with that! B’ax!”
“Sorry. Go on, Fionn,” Gaby said, apologizing on their behalf.
“He used to be a friend, ages ago before he turned into that… that thing. His name was, sorry, is Byron Castlemartell,” Fionn said.
At the sound of that last name, Sid came out from the hole and Alex stopped welding. Fionn now had all their attention.
“My world history is a bit rusty, but wasn’t he the elder son of old King Castlemartell? The one you fought alongside during the Great War?” Alex asked.
“Heir apparent to boot,” Harland added.
“Judging by the way he beat you up, there is a lot of bad blood there,” Alex said. “What happened? Didn’t he die in a tragic accident while visiting the Northern Provinces?”
“Ughh,” Fionn complained while getting comfortable. By now most of the fractures were healed and the internal bleeding was diminishing. The ringing in his ears kept coming and going, as his brain healed from the concussion. The talk was helping him keep focused and alert.
“Byron was the heir apparent to the throne,” Fionn started. “And at the time, a good friend and a great leader of men, even if he had certain, let’s say, uncomfortable views on magick users. We won many battles thanks to him. But while he was a good man on the surface, he had a dark side, a bloodlust for power and conflict that the war kept sated. The problems started once the war came to an end and the King fell ill. Most people expected Byron to inherit the crown and with it, the power to lead the Alliance. But I guess the King knew his son better than the rest of us, and stalled the matter until he found a way to change the rules and pass the leadership to another of his surviving children.”
“I bet Byron didn’t like that,” Sid interjected.
“Not at all, especially since he suspected that his father would choose someone else, like Princess Sophia, the youngest of the heirs. Despite her age, she was a member of the Twelve Swords and a fearless warrior. Of all the heirs, she was the one who took more after her father. And she had the support of several people, including Ywain, my best friend and previous owner of Yaha.” Fionn stopped for a second, noticing how the mention of that name briefly caught Alex’s full attention. “Yes, Alex, I think we are talking about the same person.”
Alex stopped what he was doing and walked towards Fionn.
“Ywain was by far the most powerful of us, having the Gift with him almost since birth. He was kind and certainly didn’t like Byron. After the war he planned to move to a secluded place and start a new life, maybe a family,” Fionn continued. “The King was fond of him. Ywain had started as the King’s squire and later became one of his personal guards. The first Solarian Knight so to speak. And he later became Sophia’s personal guard. I thought they would end up marrying, which would have pleased the King. That’s why Byron went for him first. He was the only one of us who could bypass Byron’s nullifying ability that canceled magick and Gifts alike. Ywain was the one who could challenge him on even ground. That was our first mistake. Half of the Twelve Swords got the Gift roughly around the same time, so we assumed Byron got it the same way, through the Light Explosion like me, or during an earlier event, like his sister. But we were wrong. What we didn’t know was that he got his abilities much earlier, in another way, one far more sinister as he belonged to a cult that worshiped the Outsiders. That frigging bastard played us for years!”
“Was he part of the Fraternity of Gadol?” Gaby interjected.
“Yes. The same guys that I suspect started the incursion when you two met. They have been trying to bring forth the Masters of the Pits for who knows how long,” Fionn explained. “Byron was that good at concealing that fact. We never had reason to suspect him. Not at least until he started to quell rebellions of remote outposts towards the end of the war in a bloody fashion. The King asked Ywain to look into that and as far as we knew, Ywain suffered an accident during the taking of a city, falling into a chasm. Later we found that Byron had fought him and apparently had killed him.”
“But you suspect that somehow Ywain made it out alive after all?” Alex asked, confused.
“The fact that you have Yaha, and that you kinda look like him, but slightly more chubby — no offense — makes me think so. Or at least I hope so.” Fionn smiled.
“See? I told you to lay off the pizza,” Sid whispered to Alex.
“Shut up.”
“Anyways, Ywain’s disappearance and the following attacks on freefolk villages clued us into what was going on. Byron might have been a great military leader, but he was sloppy when anger got the best of him. A lot of times we were blamed for his extreme measures during the war. That’s how the Greywolf name earned the ‘colorful’ reputation it holds now,” Fionn concluded ruefully.
“Like the damn incident that destroyed a whole town?” Gaby inquired.
“No, that was totally mine.” Fionn laughed. “But in my defense, I had everything covered until Byron messed up and Ywain had to go back for that girl and her goat.”
Fionn felt fully healed but still weak. All of them were tired and hungry.
They took a break to start a fire and cook the food stored in the Figaro’s pantries. To no one’s surprise, it consisted almost entirely of hamburgers.
“Care to finish your looooooong story?” Alex said, making the ‘o’ sound long enough to leave him breathless.
“I never said it was short. I’m summarizing a decade of events in one go. When we found out about Byron’s betrayal, we faced him and he killed, or left for dead, most of us before we were able to trap his soul on the Outerside and his body in a mausoleum. We were desperate after seeing how much power he had amassed, how indestructible he seemed, and couldn’t think of another approach at the time, not one that had more of a chance at succeeding. That’s when he impaled me the first time…” Fionn paused and let out a sigh. “…and Izia died to seal him away.”
He felt Gaby’s gaze upon him. She was blushing and smiling faintly at him. He didn’t know what to make of it. Except that the way she looked at him reminded him of how his wife used to look at him when he was feeling under the weather. It felt… familiar.
“At least he is consistent,” Harland chimed in. “You have to admire that.” Fionn only cast him a sidelong glance that could freeze a bottle of water.
“My wife died there, most of my friends too, because I was arrogant and cocky and eager to fight in the war. In order to get accepted into the Twelve Swords, I taught him all I knew for combating monsters. And when he became one and betrayed us, I was so sure that I could take him on, while the rest tried to seal his power. I mean, it was my duty to protect them… and I failed.” Fionn punched the ground with anger and stopped. It was painful thinking of Izia’s body freezing to death while the spell took action and kept him safe and the seal closed. The last image he had of his wife was looking at her sweet face, her eyes closing with tears in them, while Fionn, unable to move to help her, was stuck in place. The memories turned into nightmares that never ceased and even to this day, falling asleep took a monumental effort for him. But not as big as waking up. Dreams were the only place where he could truly be at peace an
d see her.
“Will whatever you did back then to stop him work this time?” Gaby asked.
“I don’t think so,” Fionn shook his head and then lowered his chin onto his chest. “Only Izia knew the spell. It was an ancient shamanic incantation that she found who knows where. There were also some special components that can’t be found nowadays, you can thank extinction and progress for that. And even if we managed to duplicate the whole plan, Byron’s followers would find a way to break the seals again. I‘m not going to risk anybody else’s lives just for a half desperate measure. He has to be killed. For good. I already have lost so much because of him. People have suffered enough.”
Out of the blue, Gaby walked over to Fionn and hugged him. She let go after a minute.
“Ok…” Fionn was surprised by the gesture. Sam and Harland shared a look and smiled.
“Well, if we approach this from a different angle, the best course of action is the simplest one: do to him what you did to the monster at my university,” Alex stated, looking at the ground, doodling in the dirt. He was either too focused on the problem or was ignoring the hug. Now that he thought about it, Fionn never asked what kind of relationship Gaby and Alex had. But there would be time for that later, hopefully.
“I assume Ywain tried that and it didn’t work. He knew the basics of monster killing. It works for monsters because usually they are too prideful or dumb enough to let you get that close. And you need to be really fast. But Byron is a whole different thing. He knows how to deal with that kind of attack. And now he has more power than back then. Getting close enough won’t be easy.” Fionn got up.
“You now have the advantage of a century of technology over the man. And you have us.” Alex got up as well and smiled at Fionn.
“You don’t know enough of your abilities to take this on.” Fionn was starting to get exasperated. He wasn’t going to risk someone else’s life to finish something he couldn’t do the first time.
“Then teach us.” Alex defiantly got in Fionn’s face. The sight from the Gift allowed Fionn to see the storm inside Alex brewing, trying to be unleashed. Ywain had been the same. And Byron too, for that matter. But the last time he had seen this mix of darkness and light in someone, Ywain ended up dead and Byron betrayed him.
“Last time I did, it ended poorly for everybody. Including me,” Fionn countered. Deep down, he was afraid that training either of these two would end with disastrous consequences. Gaby was still concealing too much pain under her compassion. Alex, on the other hand, was a bomb of anger waiting to explode.
“Boohoo. I get it, you trusted someone and were betrayed. That’s life. But right now you are stuck with us. And you got beaten in Round Two. It’s time to win in Round Three. Don’t be a coward.” Alex was still challenging him and not backing down. Fionn knew as well as Alex that a fight between them would end poorly for the younger man. But Alex stood his ground. Just like Ywain used to do. “You want us to survive this? Fine, show us how, damn it!”
“Sam, you have been quiet, what do you think?” Gaby asked her.
“I want to fight Byron as badly as you,” Sam replied. “But I don’t know if we will be enough.”
The tension was high and the atmosphere was turning unpleasant. It was as charged as the Thunderplains.
“Alex is right,” Harland broke the silence. “I can’t see another way, considering our precarious situation. We need all the help available.”
“Even if he is, we don’t have enough time,” Fionn conceded. “Besides, I can’t beat him without Black Fang. Given what I saw during the combat, only my sword withstood a clash against his.”
Sid, who had remained quiet for the last part of the talk, stopped what he was doing and walked towards them. He was listening to the sounds of the wind in the canyon.
“Silly hoomans with your size measuring contest. Shut up and listen, we have company,” Sid pointed to the lights coming their way. He had his battle axes already out and Alex picked up his bow. Sam and Gaby stuck together, examining the visitors.
Two giant dragonwolves almost five meters in height, glared at them while silently padding out from the shadows. One was white as the snow, while the other had beige fur. Both dragonwolves were carrying large nets containing several trinkets and flasks that glowed with different colored lights. Two riders sat bareback upon the wolves, casually guiding them with minute flicks of their reins.
One of the riders was a stocky man, about Alex’s height. Blond and dark brown strands of hair mixed on his head. Beneath his clothes, several markings and tattoos in black and blue ink could be seen, which determined his tribe of origin and rank. He was from the Fire Tribe of the freefolk, one of the oldest. The other rider was a little girl. She was wearing an old green poncho with raven feathers knit into it. Her hair was a wild combination of black and red strands. Her face had some tattooed marks under the eyes, and on top of the wild mess of hair, two rabbit ears could be seen. She had bright, large eyes whose color changed from blue to purple, to golden, depending on the angle. But the brightest feature was her wide smile.
“Who are you?” Harland asked, keeping Fionn on his left.
“This is my assistant Stealth Drakglass and I’m Mekiri the Wise!” The little girl replied, increasing the volume of her voice to add a dramatic effect. Fionn could have sworn that he heard thunder but figured it was part of the concussion he was still nursing. Mekiri then grabbed a long, black stick from one of her bags and lifted it above her head. “And I think this is yours,” she tossed the stick to Fionn, who caught it. A question formed on his face as he looked upon the blade of Black Fang.
Chapter 14
Mekiri the Great… Librarian
“What? Haven’t you heard of me?” Mekiri asked, looking at the confused faces staring at her. “I am greatly offended, especially by you, Greywolf. How quickly you have forgotten your roots!”
“Oh, I have heard of you,” Fionn replied with a chuckle. “It’s that I thought Mekiri, the greatest magus of the freefolk, would look different… you know… older? I mean, you were a legend even in the times of my grandfather. And he was quite old.”
“I knew your grandfather. Crazy old man. Good alchemist. And like you are one to talk.” Mekiri frowned, climbing down from her dragonwolf and walking towards Fionn. She was even shorter than Harland and looked young, really young. Like a six-year-old kid. It made for a stark contrast when she stood in front of Fionn, who out of respect knelt in front of her. She then smacked Fionn on the head with her cane. “Besides, why would I choose to look aged if I have enough magick to choose my looks? I could look like a dragon or a giant raven with six wings if I so wished. Human minds are so constrained by your assumptions of how the world should look. A shame indeed, your kind has much potential and imagination. At least the freefolk tried. Failed, but tried.”
Mekiri shook her head. There was a tinge of sadness and regret in her voice.
“Who is she?” Alex asked.
“Mekiri is a legendary magus amongst the freefolk,” Sam replied. “The greatest of them all. She is the one chosen by the Trickster Goddess to keep watch over the Ravenhall.”
“The what?”
“Ravenhall, the largest repository of knowledge from all corners, from all times in Theia.” Mekiri said to Alex. “Created during the Dawn Age, it appears inside the Maze to the weary traveler who honestly searches for knowledge.”
“Ah, that makes sense… not,” Alex replied, still looking confused.
“Forgive him, Great Mekiri. He is new at this,” Sam said, apologizing with a curtsey.
“Ah, at least one of you knows the proper forms.” Mekiri smiled at Sam. “You must be a student at Ravenstone. I have seen you from afar, little one.”
“Actually, I’m a junior researcher,” Sam said. Then she added somberly, “Not that it matters now with what has happened.”
“Ev
erything matters. Everything. Right, Greywolf? Or should I address you as Fionn?”
“I’m surprised you know about me,” Fionn replied.
“You too are a legend for our people,” Stealth finally spoke. “The child of two species who fought to protect them regardless of the cost. The monster hunter, the last of the Greywolf clan, the Wind Tribe. We have kept an eye on you,” Stealth explained, without elaborating further. Fionn was going to ask more about that but was rudely interrupted by Sid.
“Leave that alone, you hairball!” Sid yelled at Mekiri’s dragonwolf, which was chewing one of the wings of the Figaro, to the amusement of Mekiri. The little magus approached her dragonwolf and petted it.
“Now, now, that’s not a toy, Cookie. Let it go. You too, Moka,” Mekiri said to both dragonwolves. They stopped chewing the Figaro’s wing and lay in front of their owner. Then she turned again to Fionn. “I know a lot of things. Knowledge is power.”
“If you are so powerful, why don’t you help us?” Harland asked.
“Because I’m needed here to stop Ravenstone from crumbling.” Mekiri pointed at the damaged school. “And to protect the rest of the freefolk. That’s my job. Yours is to stop those who have been attacking us all over the world. Your world.”
“Makes sense. A whole nation of magick users could be the only thing to stop Byron and whatever he is planning to summon,” Harland said, stroking his beard. “Either way he has enough summoners now to move to the next step of his plan.”
“Besides, Fionn, what do you need me for? You have here all you need to fight back,” Mekiri added, pointing at Gaby and Alex, then to Sam, Harland, and Sid. “You have your Twelve Swords back… well half of them. You only need to look closely.”
“They are not trained,” Fionn replied. “Not in what they need to be.”
The Withered King Page 20