Return of the Paladin

by Layton Green

  When he didn’t go on, Will said gently, “What happened?”

  “My parents smuggled me to Macedonia on a fishing boat. They paid someone to take me on board against my will. I was kicking and screaming the whole way. We lived near the harbor and, just after the ship left, I saw Takros swoop down from the sky in a flowing white cape . . .”

  Dalen stared down at his feet. Yasmina put a hand on his shoulder again.

  “He was riding a flying bull with wings, a fornostos. I thought it the most magnificent sight I’d ever seen and couldn’t believe how unfair it was that I couldn’t go with him. I hated my parents for sending me away and tried to fight my way off the ship. I did the one thing they told me never to do: I used my magic and cast a weak illusion, trying to scare the captain. It had the opposite effect: he understood the situation at once and his role in the affair, and it terrified him. To this day, I’m surprised he didn’t head back to shore and turn me over to my uncle. Instead he hustled me below deck—right after I saw my family’s home burst into flames.”

  Yasmina clapped a hand over her mouth, Mateo looked away, and Will felt sickened by the tale. He noticed that Mala’s face had gone rigid, and the emotion in her eyes surprised him.

  “My parents didn’t die in the fire, but they might as well have. With their home destroyed and no savings, they were forced to live on the street. They died before I could see them again, and I never got to . . . I never told them I was sorry. The family I was sent to live with in Macedonia—distant relatives of my mother—wanted nothing to do with me. They called me a filthy Minoan and turned me away.”

  “When you were ten?” Will said, incredulous.

  Dalen clasped his hands around his knees. “I survived. Aike. We don’t need to discuss the details. When I was twenty, I had scraped together enough coin to purchase passage—working passage, mind you—on a ship to New Albion. I wanted a new start, someplace no one would recognize my heritage. I found such a place in New Victoria, but a tusker raiding party found me just as fast.”

  Will looked at his friend with new eyes and mad respect for surviving the ordeal of his childhood.

  “You thought you’d been here before,” Mala said. “What did you mean?”

  “We visited my uncle once, when I was very young. It’s one of my earliest memories. He lived in a lonely manor on a hill just like the one behind us. Lucka, that was so long ago . . . but I remember the color of the beach and the sea so well, the shape of the island, those three peaks in the distance . . . I’d swear this is the same island.”

  “Then where’s the house?”

  Dalen shrugged. “This all happened a long time ago. With all the plunder he’s collected, he probably has a palace in Knossos by now. Krikey, the way you’re all looking at me . . . forget it. The past is the past.”

  “Could this be an alternate dimension?” Mala asked.

  Dalen shrugged, and Will could tell by the look on his face that, despite his brave words, the return to his homeland had shaken him badly. After a long silence, Will turned to Mala. “What do you know about Takros? Do you think he could have the Coffer?”

  “It’s quite possible. He’s known to be a voracious collector with an abundance of coin. Yes, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

  “If the Coffer is somewhere close . . . do we have a chance against him?”

  “By we,” she said, with a cold smile, “I assume you mean your little band of heroes, since I’ve no intention of confronting a Kalaktos conjurer anywhere, especially in his own abode. As to whether you can defeat him . . . I suppose that depends on whether you can get close enough to use that ensorcelled blade of yours.” Mala’s voice turned mocking. “A task fit for a hero.”

  “Even with the sword,” Dalen said, “I don’t see how you’ll get close to Takros. He’s one of the most powerful illusionists on Urfe. He’ll make you see things . . .”

  “We’ll deal with that when the time comes,” Will said grimly.

  Some time later, as the sun began to sink into the sea, the horizon a forge of molten light, Will and the others stood atop the highest hill on the island and surveyed the beautiful but desolate vista. The island was quite small, perhaps a kilometer across, and the deep blue water extended as far as they could see. Except for birds and insects, they had still seen no sign of habitation or wildlife.

  “Did the Nephili make a mistake?” he wondered. “Send us a few thousand years back in time?”

  “I don’t know,” Mateo said, “but we should shelter before dark.”

  “Aye,” Mala said, twirling the weighted ends of her sash as she scanned the hills in the distance.

  “Perhaps a return to the cove?”

  “Why not stay here?” she replied. “Judging from the sky and the terrain, there’s little chance of rain, and I’d prefer to keep to higher ground.”

  No one disagreed, and the party selected a spot shielded by boulders at the edge of the hilltop. They created a loose circle with their packs and dug into their rations before bed. It was not cold enough to risk a fire. As they ate, darkness crept down the stippled hilltops in the distance before merging into the ocean and swallowing the island whole.

  After dinner, Will and his companions recounted their adventures in Praha to Mala. She listened with interest, especially as they described the Old City and the encounter with the Nephili, and her eyes sparked when she heard about the treasures of the storeroom. “Skara and her obsessions,” she said when they were finished, shaking her head. “You’re certain she didn’t make it out?”

  “It didn’t look good,” Will said.

  “’Tis a pity.” Mala took a long swig of grog, leaned against a boulder, and swept a hand across the group. “That was quite a story, and you all look exhausted. Rest. I’ll keep first watch.”

  After everyone but Mala was asleep, Will yawned and pushed to his feet, unable to stop his mind from spinning in a hundred directions. The clear night and absence of light pollution made it seem as if he could reach up and touch the stars.

  “Trouble falling asleep, Will the Builder?”

  He sat cross-legged on the ground next to her. When he felt her watching him, he turned to lock gazes with her extraordinary violet eyes. Her copper skin seemed to glow in the moonlight, and her wavy hair was unbound and loose on her shoulders. “Why are you here, Mala? You never told us.”

  After hesitating, she told him of the dhampyr twins and Ferala’s quest to find the Coffer, and how the amulet had allowed her to reach Will.

  “So there’s a vampire super assassin after the Coffer?”

  “You stand little chance against her, Will. She’s the most efficient killer I’ve ever met.”

  “And you came here to protect me.”

  “To warn you.”

  He laced his fingers behind his head and leaned against a rock, touched by her decision. The sound of katydids in the low shrubs was mesmeric, and the air smelled of lavender. “And now?”

  “I don’t see how Ferala could have followed you here. You’ve bought yourself some time, but if you do manage to recover the Coffer . . . be warned.”

  “Thank you,” he said simply. “For coming.”

  She looked as if she were going to retort, then gave a curt nod and returned to staring into the darkness. He reached out, cupped her chin in his hand, and gently turned her head. “I wasn’t sure I’d ever see you again.”

  She didn’t respond, nor did she turn away.

  “What happens tomorrow?” he said.

  “Whatever the dawn brings.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “And you know who I am, and where I stand.”

  She still had not pulled away, but the look in her eyes did not match the tone of her words. He said, “You know who I am, too. But I also know we both feel something.”

  “One kiss does not a wedding make.”

  He chuckled. “You’re not the marrying type.”

  “Ah, Will the Builder, light dawns at last.”
r />   He moved his hand to the back of her neck and drew her closer, breathing in her scent. “You know what I think, Mala?”

  “Pray tell,” she said, their faces inches apart.

  “I think we’re done talking.”

  When he moved to kiss her, her lips parted to meet his, but at the last moment she placed a finger on his mouth. “Lesson the Tenth,” she whispered, so close the warmth of her breath sent tingles shooting through him. “Never betray the watch.”

  Her loose hair was tickling his neck and arms, and the taste of her finger against his lips was like nectar. He wanted to take her in his arms and press their mouths together, and he sensed she wanted the same thing.

  But she was right. He couldn’t jeopardize the lives of the party, and felt foolish for putting either of them in that position. With an effort of willpower that caused a shudder to roll through him, he pulled away, and they both returned to observing the hillside.

  “There’s something I should tell you,” she said after a spell. “About your brother.”

  Will jerked his head around. “Caleb?”

  “The other.”

  “Val?” He leaned forward, intense, the passion ebbing. “What about him?”

  “When I was in New Victoria, I encountered a carriage driver named Gus—”

  “I remember him. He took us on a ride around the city when we first arrived.”

  “According to Gus, he is now your brother’s personal driver.”

  Will blinked. “I don’t understand.”

  “He claims Val is a member of the Congregation. A spirit mage, no less.”

  Telling Will the universe was made of Cool Ranch Doritos could not have surprised him more. “Val? The Congregation? There has to be some mistake.”

  “I agree it sounds implausible, and I’ve no idea of the veracity of the information. I thought I should pass it on.”

  “Did he say anything else? What else you do you know?”

  “Nothing, except I visited a residence on Magazine Street where the driver claimed your brother has been staying.”

  “Salomon’s Pad . . .” Will put a hand to his forehead, feeling dizzy.

  “I wasn’t in a position to ask more. Especially if Val has truly joined the Congregation.”

  “That can’t be . . . that just can’t be true.”

  Will jumped to his feet and paced back and forth beside the camp, trying to grasp what Mala had told him. How had Val escaped from wizard prison—or was that vision some kind of illusion? It had felt so real, and that was Val’s voice.

  Could there be any truth to Gus’s story? If so, then it meant Val had acquired much greater control over his magic. Yet it still seemed impossible. More likely, Val had tricked the carriage driver into believing he was a Congregation mage for some reason, or else he had convinced the Congregation to release him in exchange for some service Val was providing. Yes, these were scenarios Will could envision. His brother was incredibly smart and resourceful. Yet what kind of Devil’s bargain had he negotiated for his freedom? The longer Will thought about it, the more confused he grew.

  No, he decided at last, just before he dropped off to sleep when his vigil ended, what she told him couldn’t possibly be true.

  The next thing Will knew, someone was gently shaking him awake. He blinked and opened his eyes to find Dalen peering at him in the darkness.

  “Krikey, Will, wake up. You have to take a look at this.”

  Will sat up and reached for his sword. “What?”

  “Just come. Better if you see for yourself.”

  “How far are we going? What about the others?”

  “Not far.”

  The moon hung low in the sky. Dalen was the last watch of the night. Will followed him a short ways to the southern edge of the hilltop, overlooking the side of the island where the Nephili portal had deposited them.

  Will peered into the darkness as waves lapped faintly ashore in the distance. “Am I missing something?”

  “Stare at the hill we sheltered under when we arrived.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Just do it. I’m going to bend the moonlight.”

  Will rubbed sleep from his eyes. “You’re going to what?”

  “Krikey, just watch.”

  As Dalen concentrated on the shadow of the hilltop barely visible in the distance, Will followed suit, uncertain what Dalen was trying to tell him. At first nothing happened, but then a shimmer took place in Will’s line of vision, as if the darkness was taking shape. The distortion grew in size until it formed the rough outline of a large structure atop the hillside. Will watched as the image coalesced into the wispy, silvery, inchoate image of a spired fortress built right onto the hilltop, a fairytale castle made of dreams and moonlight. The castle came in and out of focus, flared bright for a moment, and then disappeared when Dalen waved a hand.

  “Is that a new illusion?” Will asked with a yawn. “That’s really impressive, but couldn’t you have shown me in the morning? Or did you need the moonlight—”

  “Lucka, Will, that was no illusion!” Dalen was staring at the spot where the structure had appeared. “That’s a real keep under a permanent cloaking spell. A wizard’s keep. The work of a master.”

  Will’s jaw slowly dropped as he stared through the night at the seemingly barren hillside. “You’re telling me that thing has been there the whole time—that it’s sitting there right now?”

  “That’s why the portal brought us here. It was right above us the entire time.”

  “But who . . .” Will let the question slip off his lips, because the troubled look on his friend’s face told him everything he needed to know.

  “He’s on the island with us,” Dalen said quietly. “My uncle.”

  “Listen, I’m sorry I got you into this. I had no idea.”

  “How could you? Queen’s blood, don’t be a krakator. It’s no one’s fault but his.”

  After they stared into the distance for a while, Will said, “I have to get inside that keep, Dalen. But I understand if you can’t come with me.”

  The illusionist’s hands twitched at his side. “I don’t know what I can possibly do to stop him, but you’ll need me there more than ever.”

  Will gripped his friend by the arm, moved by his bravery. “So what do we do? How do we get inside if we can’t even see it?”

  “I’m unsure, but I’ll need to get closer to investigate. I don’t fly very well, but I can manage well enough to take a look around.”

  “Now?”

  “Illusomancers work with light and shadow, the sun or the moon or an artificial light source. There might be a moment at sunrise or sunset, a transition, when it’s easiest to glimpse the keep, but those will be the times it’s best guarded. I suggest going now, before dawn.” He flashed a weak smile. “Maybe he’ll be asleep.”

  Will rubbed his chin as he considered the situation. “Okay. I don’t mind if you fly above the keep to take a look, but we’re going down there with you. I don’t want you that close by yourself.”

  They woke the others and explained the situation as Dalen manipulated the light to allow the rest of them to see the keep. Everyone agreed it was best to go straightaway and find an entrance. As they broke camp and set off down the hill, Will was surprised to find Mala joining the group. “I thought you had no intention of confronting a Kalaktos conjurer in his own abode?”

  “I don’t.”

  “Then why are you coming?”

  “You seem to have forgotten we’re trapped on a barren island in the middle of the sea. I’ve no way home, my rations are dangerously low, and I don’t fancy camping alone on a sorcerer’s island. My choices, unfortunate as they are, seem to be starving to death on a hillside or searching this keep for a portal or some other way to reach the mainland.”

  “Or maybe you just can’t bear to see me in danger.”

  She patted his cheek, smirking. “As I said, I’ve no intention of facing Takros, but I’ll do what I mus
t to leave this prison.”

  He could see in her eyes there was more to the story, and he smirked right back at her, having learned much in the ways of Mala. No matter what happened, he doubted there was a white picket fence in their future—and that was okay. He was no longer a white picket fence kind of guy.

  It took them less than an hour to descend the hillside and traipse across the island to the beach where they had first arrived. The incline above them was quite steep, and having seen how the keep was built into the rocky slope, its walls rising steeply around the edges, he doubted they would be walking in through the front door. This was a wizard’s keep, built for magical access and egress.

  “Be careful,” Will said to Dalen, as the illusionist rose into the air to probe the perimeter. “Come back if there’s any sign of trouble.”

  “Don’t worry,” Dalen muttered, and disappeared into the night.

  “I can see it now,” Yasmina said, as she stared up at the darkened hillside. “The absence of life, the interference in the natural world, the pattern of birds and insects.”

  “You can see all that in the dark?” Will said.

  “It’s a remarkable illusion. I can hardly believe it was right in front of us.” She turned to him. “I won’t let it happen again.”

  “Hopefully we’ll never need that particular talent.”

  “I worry about Dalen,” Mateo said, moving to stand beside Will. “How he might react to the presence of his uncle.”

  “I think he’s stronger than any of us realize,” Will said quietly. “And I’m not talking about his magic.”