by Jon Bender
Her smiling face became serious, and she turned to lead him into camp. “Warin and Lexa are waiting for us.”
The conversation proceeded quickly as the plan was simple. They would attack that night. Jaxom and the others would drop onto the balcony and search for Corin. Warin and Adriana would strike at anyone who made themselves visible, drawing attention. Warin proposed simply destroying the cell wall and getting Corin out that way. Jaxom had considered that, but they could not be sure Corin would even be there. He also remembered Corin’s chains attached to the wall of his cell. They could hurt or kill him in the attempt. The only option was to find him themselves and then get back out. Also, Alexar would be less likely to kill his brother outright if he thought he could stop the rescue and keep his hostage.
With the plan finalized, they had nothing to do but wait for the sun to set. Jaxom took the opportunity to nap near the treeline. Adriana stretched out parallel to him, her head resting on his chest as they both stared up at the clouds. Jaxom had just drifted off to sleep when she woke him. It was time. The camp was broken down and every rider was mounted and ready. Sitting behind Adriana, Jaxom looked around at the faces of the men around him, every one of them filled with determination and resolve. They knew that failure tonight would doom their king. The others who were to enter the palace were also riding double. Besides Darian, who was attempting to make the rider he sat behind laugh with lame jokes, they shared the same serious expression.
It was fully dark when they finally lifted into the cooling night air. The durgen went first to give the dragon room to unfurl its massive wings. Soon, the lights of Taurn came into view, and Jaxom steeled his nerve. He was about to jump into a hornet’s nest of swords and magic. He tested his own magic, drawing in a small amount. Even with a trickle of power, he felt the urge to destroy and kill. He released the flow, promising himself to cast only when necessary.
They were directly over the city. In the dark, the palace glowed white like a specter. Shouts of alarm reached his ears as a few people on the ground spotted the group of flying monsters against the clear sky. Then they were over the walls, and the dragon let loose a pillar of rolling flame. The inferno engulfed the soldiers at the front of the gate and those stationed above it. The blazing light announced their presence as it turned the enemy soldiers to charred ruin. Almost instantly, bells began ringing. Half-dressed soldiers poured out into the courtyard. The dragon released more flame, killing them and setting buildings ablaze. From every door men streamed out as though an ant hill had been kicked open. Those carrying bows fired up at the dragon, but the arrows had no effect on the massive risen. The riders began returning the attack, loosing arrows of their own. Warin changed tactics. Flying low, he used the dragon’s long talons to rake the men running along the top of the wall. Those not impaled were knocked screaming to the ground.
Jaxom pointed to the balcony, and Adriana directed her mount toward it. Many archers began firing at them and the three durgen following behind, none finding their mark on the swift risen. Adriana commanded her durgen to hover just above the small terrace, and Jaxom jumped down, drawing his sword. He looked up just in time to see Adriana pulling her bow from the saddle and returning to the gate. Darian was second to leap down, quickly followed by Cribble and Laiden.
“Stay near me,” he told the apprentice, before moving through the small arch into the palace.
The bedroom on the other side was lavishly decorated with a four-post oak bed. Of all the situations Jaxom had expected, finding a bruised and crying girl with a limb tied to each post was not among them. Next to the bed stood a man wearing only a look of defiance and wielding a sword. Jaxom recognized him instantly from the dining hall as Ed’in, one of Alexar’s sons. Walking to the head of the bed, Jaxom brought down his sword, cutting one of the girl’s hands free. The prince sneered. Jaxom looked to Darian and nodded. The mage lifted his hand in the prince’s direction. In that moment, the naked man’s expression turned to fear, and he turned to run for the door. Darian’s spear of ice caught him in the side just below the ribs, pinning the prince to an ornate armoire.
Leaving the crying girl to free herself, Jaxom led them out into the hall. He heard shouts coming from every direction, and a pair of servants came around a corner to find them standing there. The two men took one look at them and ran back the way they had come.
“We need to move,” Cribble said.
“Follow me,” Jaxom said, leading them in a direction he thought would take them closer to the tower.
Knowing that there was only one way up to Corin’s cell, he first had to get to the ground level to find it. He turned down the first flight of stairs he found. At the bottom, they emerged into a hall near the dining room. As they turned a corner, they found a group of soldiers and two mages headed in their direction.
The group paused in confusion before recognition dawned on their faces. The soldiers recovered first, drawing swords and rushing forward. One of the mages raised a hand and unleased a bolt of lightning over their heads. Unfortunately for two of the soldiers, who were taller than the rest, the cast struck their steel helmets, dropping them to the ground. Jaxom cast the barrier to deflect the magic, and the bolt ricocheted off, shattering a chunk of wall and setting a nearby tapestry on fire. The second mage slapped down the hand of the first and moved quickly after the soldiers. Jaxom was prepared to cast the blight to end the threat quickly but hesitated. He could feel himself already losing control, ready to unleash death just for the excitement of doing so. Releasing the magic, he readied his sword instead and stood shoulder to shoulder with Cribble. They met the charge as Darian flung ice daggers and Laiden whipped the coil about. Jaxom felt the ground tremble as a hole opened beneath his boot. Leaping away before it could close again, he barely blocked a sword strike for his arm. The storm mage found an opening in the press and released another bolt aimed at Jaxom. With no other choice, he raised the barrier again. This time the offensive cast rebounded into a soldier, causing the man to go stiff before being flung into the wall. Cribble stepped to the very edge of the barrier, driving his sword low into the side of man battering at the shield. There were only two soldiers left now, giving the mages more room to cast. The wall to Jaxom’s left began to shift and form into a roughly human shape. More bolts slammed into his barrier giving him no chance to deal with the new threat. A blast of cold stung his shoulder as the partially shaped golem was covered in a frost. The stone creation had pulled an arm and shoulder from the wall and had been reaching for Jaxom when Darian’s magic froze it in place with layers of thick ice.
Jaxom knew that unless he acted with more direct force, they would not survive this fight. Pulling more deeply on the power of death, he released the barrier and sent the blight toward the enemy mages. He felt the too familiar rush of excitement and pleasure at sending forth death from his fingertips. The swirling black and white smoke followed behind two dead soldiers who had stood, their eyes emitting a soft glow. The remaining Bruxan soldiers were cut down as Cribble lashed out with his sword and Darian created a flurry of flying ice shards. The risen men were smashed apart by flying pieces of stone and bolts of lightning, but they had served their purpose. Jaxom’s blight was now mere feet away from the mages. The storm mage raised a strong gust of wind that had no effect. The floor in front of the earth mage began to rise up, separating the hall, but it moved too slowly to stop his cast. Just as the mage’s head disappeared behind the ascending wall, the blight slipped over the lip. No longer able to see his targets, Jaxom used his magic to feel for his prey. The wall stopped its ascent with only a few feet of space between it and the ceiling. He could feel his magic working, burrowing through the enemy mages’ chests. He fought the urge to destroy their cooling flesh completely.
He cut the flow of magic, feeling satisfied with his self-control, but the feeling lasted only a second. It had not been self-control. He could resurrect the mages to fight for him, and the amount of the death they created would only fuel his po
wer. The thought froze him place. His magic was always at its strongest when he stood among the freshly dead, but it disturbed him deeply that he would consider killing just n to gain that strength.
Darian hurled a large, glistening blue spear against the wall. The ice shattered against the unyielding stone. Shrugging, his friend approached the barrier and began casting. Streams of white frost flowed from his hands, forming blocks of ice fashioned into a narrow set of stairs. Climbing them first and then crawling between the partially finished wall and the ceiling, Jaxom dropped down on the other side. He considered continuing on without the enemy mages. Then he thought of Corin. The risen mages could increase their chances of rescuing his brother. They were not a resource he could afford to waste. A few minutes later, they reached the final hall that led to the spiraling stairs. Rounding the final corner, they found dozens of soldiers and a handful of mages blocking the stairs. Behind them stood Alexar, a self-satisfied grin splitting his face. Next to the king stood his remaining son and the daughter who had spoken to Corin in the tower.
“I was sure Corin’s people would make some attempt to liberate their king, but I must admit that I’m impressed by your dragon,” Alexar said, almost purring. “When this is all over, I think I will demand it as tribute. I am too old to ride such a creature, but one of my sons could lead my army atop it.”
Power flowed through Jaxom, removing any emotion beyond anticipation and excitement. They were clearly outnumbered, but none of that seemed to matter. “Son,” Jaxom corrected. “You only have one now.”
Alexar’s face twisted in rage then returned to the grin as if it had never happened. “That’s a shame, but if he wasn’t strong enough to keep himself alive, he didn’t deserve to be.”
“Step aside. If you don’t, you and your men will all die here tonight.”
Alexar broke into hysterical laughter. “I have heard of your powers, but I do not think you are strong enough to accomplish that.”
Jaxom smiled.
“I am not one for retreat, but we are far outmatched,” Cribble whispered.
“I know I don’t say this often,” Darian added, “but I agree with Cribble. We should find another way.”
Jaxom looked at the men. Laiden never glanced up from the hall, his face cloaked in obvious fear. “We aren’t leaving here without Corin,” he said, his voice cold.
Cribble nodded grimly. Darian regarded Jaxom for a moment then shrugged. Without warning, the risen mages began casting into the front ranks of armored men. Their magic tore through the soldiers as bolts of lightning blasted them away and chunks of stone, torn from the walls, smashed into their bodies. Jaxom cast the barrier just in time to block the enemy mages’ casts of ice and fire. He could not kill directly while protecting his group from the barrage, but he watched in satisfaction as the risen struck them down at his command.
“Kill them!” Alexar shouted.
Even in the face of such destructive power, the soldiers charged forward, accepting heavy losses. Cribble and Laiden held them back as Darian added his own magic to the fray, striking down a mage who was not quick enough to stop the ice dagger aimed at his throat. Through the barrier, Jaxom saw the frustration on Alexar’s face as he stepped back behind the mages and away from the carnage. The king obviously had not counted on such an effective resistance.
Jaxom’s risen soon suffered from open gashes in their bodies. One sported several ice daggers in his chest. But injury meant nothing to the dead. Cribble was bleeding from a wound in his leg, and Laiden had not been spared either. The young apprentice held one arm close to his body as the other slammed the coil into any man who got too close.
Watching Alexar through the barrier, Jaxom saw the king’s frustration turn to rage. “You leave me no choice!” Alexar shouted over the fray. “I had hoped to keep your king alive until all of Ale’adaria kneeled before me, but I can see that you would rather have him dead. Since you are so eager to end your brother’s life, I will hasten your desire.”
Alexar’s voice dropped as he spoke hurriedly to his children. Both the prince and princess nodded before turning to the spiral staircase. The princess, still in her red dress, led the way to the stairs with four soldiers following and the prince a few steps behind. In that moment, Jaxom knew he had just condemned his brother to death. He wanted to unleash the rage he felt at his failure, but he managed to keep it in check when he remembered the emora. The princess was already out of sight when Jaxom smiled. Alexar turned just in time to see the large cat leap from underneath the stairs, taking down his last son. The young man’s screams could be heard above all the others as the emora’s claws shredded his chest and stomach. A deadly silence followed as long fangs ripped the prince’s throat away in a spray of blood that coated the cat’s chest.
Alexar met Jaxom’s eyes with pure hatred. The soldiers closed ranks around their king. The emora might still be able to get to Alexar, but that would mean leaving Corin to die. Jaxom crushed the thought with such ferocity that the bloodlust lost its sway for a moment. His actions had already risked the lives of his friends and Corin. Taking in his surroundings for the first time, he felt like a fog had been lifted from his mind. He saw Laiden leaning against a wall to support himself as he cast at the soldiers. Cribble was bleeding from a half dozen wounds but stubbornly fought on. One of the risen mages had been hacked to pieces, and he himself was bleeding from his chest. Before him lay two dead soldiers that he did not remember killing. Darian was the only one not injured, and he was struggling to cover the other two with his magic. They were all about to die, and he had led them to it.
Commanding the emora to protect Corin, he reached out to as many of the dead soldiers as he could. They and the remaining risen mage ran forward without attacking. The press of their bodies formed a wall of flesh that forced the Bruxans back. Grabbing Laiden under the arm, he ran back the way they had come with a limping Cribble and exhausted Darian in close pursuit. He knew he should be feeling the effects of the continuous casting, but the fatigue was not there. A sobering thought burned through him. He was becoming more powerful at the cost of his humanity.
Jaxom ran on with no knowledge of where he was going, only trying to put distance between his friends and their pursuers. After several turns, he found himself in a narrow, unadorned hall. They plunged through the nearest doorway into a small room that looked to belong to a servant. Darian closed the door behind them and leaned against it, laboring for breath. Cribble moved to the small bed tucked into a corner and began cutting up the sheet with his dagger to make bandages.
“What now?” the Guard Commander asked.
“Rest,” Jaxom said, reaching out to the emora.
The cat was mid-jump from the tower wall when he took control of it. One of the four soldiers lay bleeding on the spiral stairs while the other three were slowly backing onto the landing, their swords out and directed at him. They had not yet reached Corin. Jaxom crept up the stairs, looking for an opening, as the three men backed further down the hall. The princess stood behind them with a long dagger in hand, her fear-filled eyes never breaking from the emora. The princess was now only steps from Corin’s cell. Jaxom had to act. Tensing the muscles in his legs, he leapt for the nearest soldier. The man swung his sword in a two-handed grip. Jaxom twisted in the air, receiving only a glancing blow on his flank, and brought the soldier down while raking his face. Before he could finish the kill, the other two rushed in to aid their comrade. Leaping to the next man, Jaxom felt the soldier’s sword slide through his ribcage and erupt out his back. The emora’s hind legs went limp and no longer responded to his command, but the front paws and fangs did. He ripped into the soldier, who struggled to hold the large cat’s weight aloft on the sword. The man fell, coughing blood, just in front of Corin’s cell. Inside, Jaxom saw Corin standing in the middle of the room, the chains binding him to the wall stretched to their limit. Jaxom tried to claw his way to the remaining soldier, but the sword still embedded in him became entangled in the d
ead soldier’s chainmail. The last man kept his back to the wall, watching the emora carefully as he inched by the cat’s immobilized body and into the cell. The princess followed him. Jaxom could only look on in despair as he prepared to watch his brother die. He had failed.
Corin gave Jaxom a sad smile before shifting his warm blue eyes to the princess. “You’re going to be the one after all?” Corin said softly.
“I’m sorry,” the woman said, her voice trembling.
Corin spread his arms wide. “Come on, then. You mustn’t disappoint your father.”
The princess took another step forward, the soldier moving with her in case Corin should try anything at the last moment. Jaxom watched as she took the final step, her hand spinning the dagger into a downward grip. He wanted to leave, pull back to his own body, so he would not see what was about to happen, but he felt as paralyzed as the emora’s body. The princess’s arm came gracefully up and plunged down as she spun to the side, the dagger burying itself in the soldier’s chest. The man slapped her away with the back of his hand and grabbed at the hilt of the dagger, stumbling into Corin’s reach. The king reached out, grasping the hand holding the sword and throwing the soldier to the ground. Ripping the blade free from the man’s hand, Corin drove the blade through his heart.
With both hands still on the grip, Corin looked at the princess, confusion written on his face. “I don’t understand,” he said, slowly standing upright.
The princess met his eyes for a moment before looking away. “My feelings for you are real. I couldn’t kill you. Not even for my father.”
Jaxom watched his brother’s clean-shaven face soften. The princess rushed to him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her face to his chest as Corn’s free arm pulled her tight.
“I need the key,” Corin said, after several seconds. She broke away and gave a small nod. Walking back out into the hall near Jaxom, she paused to stare at him. “Don’t worry. I know my brother’s eyes anywhere. He won’t harm you.”