by Layton Green
Normally he would have longed to explore the contents of the gallery, but at the moment he only had eyes for a single piece resting on a tall, three-pronged golden stand in the center of the room.
“The Coffer,” Mateo said, staring in reverence at the legendary artifact.
“This is a museum,” Mala said softly.
“Greetings,” said a voice with an accent similar to Dalen’s, resounding throughout the vast hall. “Especially to my nephew. An impressive performance, deducing the location of the entrance. I look forward to beginning your apprenticeship. We have many years to recapture.”
Dalen lowered his eyes, and Will saw his friend’s hands trembling at his side.
“You destroyed my family,” Dalen said.
“My brother transgressed against the laws of our people. He knew the consequences.”
“They were protecting their son!”
Will put a hand on Dalen’s shoulder and stepped forward. “You have something that belongs to us. We’re taking the Coffer back to Freetown.”
“One is curious how you circumvented my offshore wards and arrived on my island. I assume a portal of some type, yet I detected no magical signature. In any event, your claim of ownership is an interesting one. Did you not steal the Coffer from the tomb of the sorcerer king?”
“It belongs to my people,” Mateo said. “To the followers of Devla.”
“Ah, I see. The prerogative of divine right. I assume you have the proper papers, stretching back to the origin of the multiverse?”
Will spoke to Mala in a low voice. “Give me your Pouch of Possession.”
“I don’t think—”
“Do it,” he said, and somewhat to his surprise, she lifted a small velvet bag off her corded leather belt and handed it to him. When they had found the Coffer, he had seen the same pouch magically expand to fit the Coffer inside.
“See that it’s returned,” she said.
Will re-strapped his shield to his back, as it would do little good against a sorcerer, unless those runes had a power he had yet to unlock. He raised Zariduke in his right hand and gripped the pouch in the other, then started walking towards the Coffer. Before he drew within ten feet, a bottomless pit opened in front of him. Will reeled, stumbling backwards at the edge of the precipice. A sinuous gold dragon roared out of the pit and leaped at him, shimmering with power, and Will raised his sword in defense. He swung at the dragon’s head but the sword passed right through it, causing it to disappear with a snip of light.
Laughter rang throughout the hall. “You see what I wish you to see,” Takros said.
With a grimace, Will closed his eyes and started forward again, this time more slowly. “Not if my eyes aren’t open.”
“Is that really the wisest course of action?”
“Will!” Yasmina screamed. “Watch out!”
Will opened his eyes as someone jerked him backwards, just before a dagger-like shard of glass struck the floor at his feet. Instead of shattering, the shard came to an abrupt stop, poised on its tip on the reflective surface, then flew upward to merge with the chandelier directly overhead. Mala had pulled him back, yet as she helped him regain his footing, a searing light emanated from the floor, blinding him.
“Did you think my powers were limited to pure illusion?” Takros said. “Did Dalen not prepare you to face the might of a Kalaktos conjurer?”
It took a few moments for Will to see again, and when he did, spots of color still danced at the edges of his vision.
“As impudent as you are, I’m uninterested in needless confrontation. I’m a collector, as you know, and not an unreasonable man. I am willing to strike a bargain.”
Will exchanged a glance with the others, not trusting the situation. “Your terms?”
“Are non-negotiable. Your sword and my nephew for the Coffer. A fair trade, I believe. One priceless relic for another, and the return of my rightful property.”
After a moment, Dalen stepped closer to Will and whispered, “I’ll go. And do my best to get the sword when I can.”
Will put a palm on Dalen’s chest and gently pushed him towards the others. “You’re not going anywhere.”
“We can’t fight him, Will. Especially not here.”
Will ignored his friend and tilted his head towards the ceiling. “Neither of those is on offer, Takros. Ever. Why don’t you show yourself? Maybe we can come to an agreement in person.”
“As a rule, I prefer not to stand too close to a sword with the power to penetrate magical defenses. Even a weapon as powerful as this does not cause me concern in my own keep, but I’ve lived a long time, and am a prudent man.”
“Don’t you mean cowardly?” Will said. “Along with vindictive and murderous?” Mala grabbed his arm but he shook her off. “You took Dalen’s childhood from him. Burned the home of your own family.”
“Silence!” Takros roared. “You know nothing of our traditions.”
“I know any tradition that requires blind servitude and lets you get away with murder is a tradition that needs to be abolished.”
The violet light in the room started to pulse, throbbing as if alive, and streaks of silver light bounced between the floor and walls.
“Why anger him?” Mala whispered, but it was not Will’s sense of justice alone that fueled his words. Takros wasn’t going to give up the Coffer. If they were to have any chance of victory, he had to distract him and make it personal. He drew everyone to him and gave the Pouch of Possession back to Mala, whispering, “Go for the Coffer on the count of three. Dalen, disguise her as best you can.”
Mala frowned but took the pouch. “What are you doing?”
“He’s a collector like the sorcerer king. I’m going to hit him where it hurts. One, two, three!”
Will stepped forward and held his sword in the air. “I’m coming for the Coffer, Takros! Give me a fair deal or I’ll take it myself!” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mala standing behind Mateo and Yasmina. As Dalen’s hands twitched, Mala blurred and then disappeared. Mateo and Yasmina raised their weapons to protect Dalen as Will strode to the nearest crystal pillar and cut downward with his blade, aiming for the emerald goblet imprisoned inside. Before Zariduke struck home, an unseen force lifted him into the air and held him high above the floor. The light in the room pulsed again, revealing Mala slinking towards the Coffer, the illusion dispelled.
“Fools!” Takros said, as shards from a chandelier above Mala dropped like falling knives. She leaped to the side, barely avoiding being skewered.
Will wanted to sever the magical force suspending him in midair, but to do so would mean plunging thirty feet to the floor.
“The Coffer for the sword and the boy,” Takros said. “I won’t ask again.”
“Save your breath,” Will said. He swept Zariduke in a wide circle, counting on Dalen to arrest his fall as the sword severed the ties of magic. He plummeted towards the floor, felt his descent slow, and landed hard on one knee. After pushed to his feet, he lunged with Zariduke to shatter one of the crystal cases.
“Enough! My offer is revoked, and all your lives forfeit!” Takros roared.
The violet light flickered in and out like a strobe light. Shadow forms streaked across the room, swirling around the party. Will whirled one way and then the next, trying to discern the nature of the threat, when he heard a crack above his head. He looked up to find that an entire chandelier had shattered, dozens of the dagger-like shards streaking towards him as if guided by an unseen hand. He had no time to reach for his shield or even drop to the ground and protect his vitals. As the shadow beings converged and the daggers arced into him, he realized he had grown overconfident. He could not win this battle, not even with Zariduke.
I’ve failed my friends, he thought as the blades pierced him. And I’ll pay the ultimate price.
As he cringed, he realized the shards had stopped driving into him, only pricking the outer layer of his skin. Will stood very still, thinking Takros had decided to halt t
he attack. The shadow beings looked frozen as well, trails of smoke suspended in the air around the party.
“Don’t ever,” an achingly familiar voice called out from behind him, “threaten the life of my brother.”
The magical daggers surrounding Will fell lifeless to the floor as the light in the room flared and the walls exploded, showering the vast hall with shards of silver. Streaks of rippling black lightning came next, twin arcs of destruction that disintegrated the chandeliers and the shadow creatures and five of the crystal pillars. As Will turned in awe towards the source of the devastation, he saw his oldest brother standing in a fine wool cloak and high-collared shirt near where they had entered the hall, his hands slowly lowering. Beside him was a lithe woman with a shaved head and a thin black robe cinched at the waist with a silver belt.
A majitsu?
“Val!” Will cried.
His brother held out a hand to quiet him. “Takros! My name is Val Kenefick, and I come on behalf of the Congregation of Wizards of New Albion.”
“So it’s true?” Will whispered.
A large bag at Val’s side lifted off the ground and flew forward, landing near the center of the hall, rattling as if filled with coins. He glanced around the ruined hall with a haughty expression. “I’ve come to take the Coffer, and bring you coin in exchange.”
There was a long silence inside the gallery. Barely able to process what was happening, Will looked back and forth between his brother and the shattered walls, which had exposed the courtyard as well as a nest of marble-walled rooms and corridors.
“The boy stays,” Takros said at last, still hidden.
Val glanced at Will, who shook his head.
“I’m afraid not,” Val replied.
The voice rose in anger. “You dare to enter my home and make demands? I’m unfamiliar with you, mage, but even if you speak the truth and represent the Congregation, the Sanctum is a very long way away.”
Val sneered. “Do you think our power is limited to the walls of the Wizard District? And do you not recognize the nature of the magic I wield? I’m a spiritmancer.” He tossed a circular silver disc, too large to be a coin of the Realm, toward the center of the room. “I represent the imperial might and interests of the Queen and the Protectorate, but if you doubt me further, then behold the seal of Lord Alistair himself. He commissioned this visit, and will come himself should I fail to return with the Coffer.”
The disc levitated and flew into the far recesses of the hall, where it disappeared. An even longer silence ensued.
“A bag of coin is far from sufficient payment for a relic such as the Coffer,” Takros said finally. “It’s worth far more.”
“You’ll find the contents of the bag greater than you expect,” Val said. “And I didn’t come to negotiate.”
The bag of coins also lifted off the floor and disappeared. After a moment, Takros said, “Very well. I wish no quarrel with the Congregation. Take the Coffer and be gone from my island. I’ll consider the exchange a favor.”
“The only favor that has occurred,” Val said, “is that I’ve spared your life.”
With that, the Coffer of Devla raised off its golden stand and floated over to hover beside Val. Will felt himself lifted off his feet, along with the rest of his companions, and the entire group, including the Coffer, took flight into the courtyard and up the high walls of the keep, soaring high overhead before descending to the beach near where they had entered.
Dawn had risen and a ginger sun lit the horizon. Stunned by the sudden turn of events, Will looked back to find no sign of the spired keep atop the hill, as if it had all been a dream.
Yet there was nothing illusory about his brother’s presence on the remote Minoan isle, standing in front of Will and clasping him warmly by the shoulder, his eyes full of love and relief. Val looked the same as ever, his trim dark hair and patrician features, the intelligent green eyes that missed nothing. Only one thing had changed: as with comparison photos of United States presidents Will had seen—taken before and after their terms—his older brother looked as if he had aged a decade in the months they had been apart. Touches of silver now streaked his temples, his face was more lined, and his stare felt heavier than before, as if the weight of a great secret bore down on him.
Val’s voice was husky. “I thought I’d never see you again.”
“Me, too.”
Dalen cleared his throat, and Will turned towards his companions. Yasmina, who had met Val before, was staring at him with a steady but cautious gaze. He seemed to relieve her worries by walking over to embrace her, after which Will introduced him to Dalen and Mateo. Dalen seemed in awe of Val and thanked him profusely for not handing him over to his uncle.
“Our cousin?” Val said to Mateo.
Mateo flashed a huge grin. “Well met, Valjean. Your two siblings have caused quite a stir in Freetown.”
“I’m sure they have,” Val said faintly.
Off to Will’s right, he found Mala standing with a hand on Magelasher as she eyed the majitsu who never strayed far from Val’s side. The mage-warrior was keeping an eye on everyone, though especially Mala, somehow sensing the adventuress was the greatest threat.
Val nodded at Mala. “It’s good to see you again. Thank you for protecting Will.”
“I’m not sure who is protecting who these days. Though you seem to have surpassed us all in that regard. Your intervention was quite timely.”
Val glanced at the keep. “I spent half my power in that display, and I’m not sure who would have won had Takros chosen to engage. He’s a very powerful mage, and I’m unfamiliar with the skillset of an illusionist. I hear it’s a deadly art in the right hands.”
Dalen paled at the admission, and Will shook his head in disbelief. “I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: I’d never bet against my oldest brother in a negotiation. How’d you find us, anyway?”
“It’s a long story, but once I learned that Takros stole the Coffer, Synne and I took a portal to a nearby city, just out of sight to the west. We flew the rest of the way. Once we landed, I picked up the spirit signature of Dalen’s magic and followed it through the illusion in the courtyard.”
The young mage looked sheepish. “I should learn to disguise that.”
“It’s a good thing you didn’t. Will, I need to talk to you alone for a minute.”
“Sure. Should we set camp first?”
“Walk with me.”
After hesitating, Will followed his brother, leaving the others milling about in confusion. Val even made Synne stay behind while he and Will walked to the edge of the shore, the sun warming their cheeks as gulls circled in the clear sky overhead. For the first time in months, Will felt as if things might be okay. Now that Val was back, surely they could work together to bring Caleb to his senses.
“You don’t look as surprised to see me as I am to see you,” Will said.
“I was shocked, believe me.” He smiled. “When have you ever shown less emotion than I have?”
“True.”
“I knew you were after the Coffer, so it wasn’t a complete surprise.”
“How did you know?”
“Don’t worry about that right now. Listen, Will, there are some things I need to tell you, and we don’t have much time.”
“We don’t? Why not?”
“Because Lord Alistair will open a portal soon, and he’s going to expect the Coffer.”
Will was too stunned to speak.
“I know it’s a lot to digest—”
Will put a hand up to cut him off. “Did I hear that right? Lord Alistair? Here?”
“He’ll arrive any moment.”
“Val—you can’t give him the Coffer!”
“That’s an even longer story. I’ll tell you everything, but first I need to tell you a few things. While we still have time.”
Will grew very still. “You’re really working with the Congregation? It’s not a trick?”
Val hesitated. “It’s no
t a trick, but . . . it’s complicated. You haven’t seen what I’ve seen.”
“Apparently not.”
“I’m doing it to help you and Caleb,” he said, lowering his voice as if Synne might overhear. “Among other reasons. There’s someone I wish you could meet, a woman, and I’ve had some experiences that have caused me to question the Revolution. In fact, I don’t think it’s a good thing anymore. And it’s definitely not something you should be involved in. But all that’s irrelevant now.”
Will put a hand to his temple. “A woman? Who? You don’t think the Revolution—haven’t you been in prison? I don’t understand any of this.”
“Nor should you. The Congregation freed me in exchange for helping them with a mission. I went to a place, an alternate Urfe, and I’ve seen what happens when the common . . .” He took a deep breath and looked away, as conflicted as Will had ever seen him. For a moment, Val looked as if he was about to make a confession, then thought better of it and stayed quiet.
“What is it?” Will put a hand on his brother’s arm. “Tell me.”
Val looked him in the eye. “I’m sending you home.”
“You mean to Freetown? I don’t think that’s a good idea, unless you mean with the Coffer—”
“Not Freetown, Will. Home. Earth. New Orleans.”
Will froze. “What are you talking about? I’m not going anywhere. I’ve got friends, duties, the sword and the Coffer . . . and I haven’t even told you about Caleb. You have to listen to me. He’s gone insane with grief . . . we have to help him.”
Val looked worried at the mention of their middle brother. “Where is he? I have to find him quickly, before things get any more out of control.”