by M. L. Forman
Whalen started to laugh as he forced himself to stand straight. He continued to laugh as he looked Jabez in the eye. Jabez sunk back into his throne in fear. Even when Whalen was powerless and wounded, Jabez was afraid of him.
“Your evil has reached its end!” Whalen shouted.
Alex raised the Axe of Sundering over his head, and with all his strength, he brought the blunt end of the axe down on the Orion stone. There was a blinding flash of red-gold light, followed by a thunderous explosion. Alex staggered back a step. The light flowed like water, sweeping over and past Alex. Quickly the glowing, water-like magic gathered around Whalen’s body. The wizard immediately stood up straighter, strength and light coming back to his face.
Jabez looked from Whalen to Alex, who brought up the axe, ready to attack now that his invisibility spell had been broken.
“You!” Jabez said in a shocked whisper. “It can’t be. You were destroyed by the dragon. This cannot be.”
“The dragon fire did not touch me,” Alex said, moving toward Jabez. “The dragon you keep as a slave did as I asked. Now it is time to repay the dragon’s kindness.”
Jabez jumped to his feet, but stood frozen in fear for a moment, and then moved faster than Alex expected. A bolt of lightning shot from Jabez’s staff, aimed for Alex’s heart. Alex blocked the bolt with the Axe of Sundering without thinking. The lightning bolt bounced off the axe, hitting the ceiling above Alex and causing several blocks of stone to fall. Alex stepped to one side so the stones did not hit him. He shifted the axe and moved closer to Jabez.
Jabez lunged forward, his hand reaching out, ready to cast a spell. Alex swung his axe, catching the tips of Jabez’s outstretched fingers and slicing them from his hand. Jabez pulled his hand away, screaming in pain and anger. A look of fear and unspeakable hate crossed his face as he started to work a new spell.
Alex moved, swinging the axe as he went, but Jabez leaped out of the way. Spinning around, Alex continued to follow him, even as he felt Jabez’s spell growing around him. Alex’s own magic was working as well, forming a protective shield around him as he moved. He swung the axe at Jabez again, making a wide spinning move as he did so. Jabez’s magic hit Alex on the shoulder as he spun, causing him to rotate further than he’d planned and slam into the wall. Jabez was quick to take advantage of Alex’s disorientation. He rushed forward with his staff, transforming it into a spear with a flaming tip. Alex ducked and rolled away, the spear tip following him as it gouged a line in the stone wall.
Suddenly a magical eagle dove from the ceiling with its claws aimed at Jabez’s face.
Alex looked at Whalen, who was whispering the words to a spell.
Jabez pulled back, throwing his left arm over his head to protect himself. His right hand came up, catching the magical bird by the neck. As the bird vanished, Jabez let loose another spell, sending a curse along the magical thread that connected Whalen to his creation.
Alex acted without thinking. His dragon magic caught the thread of Whalen’s magic, blocking Jabez’s spell like a bead on a wire. The curse hung in the air, and then Alex forced it back along the thread toward Jabez. Alex’s magic snapped the thread of Whalen’s magic, and Jabez sent his curse into the wall, where it exploded and sprayed the room with bits of stone.
“I see you are more than just a warrior,” Jabez snarled.
“Much more,” Alex answered, his voice sounding more like a dragon than a man.
Jabez didn’t wait for Alex to attack. Faster than Alex thought possible, Jabez sent a curse at him, a second curse toward Whalen, and a third curse at him again. Whalen didn’t move; he didn’t seem to be doing anything at all. Alex, however, was more dragon than wizard now. A combination of his wizard magic and his dragon magic reached out and caught all three curses at the same time. They bounced away from him and from Whalen, speeding back at Jabez, who was ready and slapped all three spells back at Alex.
Alex reacted faster than he normally would have. At the moment he was a dragon in a man’s body, and there was no need to think. The curses bounced back and forth between Jabez and himself, moving faster and faster as they went. Alex acted on instinct, and he added a fourth and then a fifth spell to the deadly game.
“Enough!” Jabez screamed in frustration.
Jabez threw himself to the side, and all five spells slammed into the wall behind him, exploding like a bomb and shaking the entire castle. A large section of the wall collapsed into the room, filling the air with dust and smoke. Alex tried to keep track of where Jabez was, but it was almost impossible.
“Duck!” Alex’s O’Gash screamed inside his head. “Five feet behind you, two to your right.”
Alex ducked and spun, swinging the Axe of Sundering in a wide arc. Jabez’s staff whistled through empty air where Alex’s head had been, but the axe found its mark.
Jabez screamed and staggered backward, his free hand holding a deep gash across his stomach.
Alex closed in on his enemy. Jabez held up his staff to block Alex’s next blow, but it did no good against the Axe of Sundering. There was a flash of greenish-yellow light as the axe cut Jabez’s staff in two. Jabez looked terrified, as Alex moved closer still.
“You may have won this battle, but we shall win the war,” Jabez yelled, throwing what was left of his staff at Alex. “Your victory will cost you dearly. I’ll take you both with me in defeat, and most of Westland as well.”
“Do your worst,” Alex answered, raising the axe for a final strike.
Alex heard Jabez working a spell and he heard Whalen shouting something behind him, but he didn’t understand either of them. It was the time to end this evil. With all the strength he had, Alex brought down the Axe of Sundering. When the silver blade hit Jabez in the chest, Alex saw the shocked, surprised look on Jabez’s face.
Suddenly, a shimmering halo of light surrounded Jabez’s body, and Alex saw that each thin beam of light was like a thread connected to and stretching out behind Jabez. Alex remembered that Whalen had told him that Jabez’s magic kept him connected to all the people he had done magic for, tying his life force to theirs down through the generations.
One by one, the threads of light snapped, each one vanishing with a small popping sound. The ends of the threads still connected to Jabez turned from gold to black and then were absorbed back into Jabez’s body. The links to Jabez’s victims were broken. The Axe of Sundering had done its work.
Alex pulled the axe free of Jabez’s body, which crumpled into a heap of ash on the ground. Alex turned to check on Whalen, but he never completed his turn.
A wave of darkness covered him, and a thundering pain washed through his head. For a moment Alex thought that the castle of Conmar had collapsed on him, as pain beyond any he had ever known surged though his body. He felt the Axe of Sundering slip from his hand, felt the cold stone floor beneath him as he fell, and then everything went black.
“Alexander Taylor,” a weak, fearful sounding voice said. “I didn’t think to see you again so soon, and I’m sure you didn’t think you’d see me.”
Alex could feel the cold stone floor under him, and he pushed himself up and carefully shook his head. His ears felt like they had been stuffed with cotton, and his mouth was dry. Everything he could see was in shadow except for a single beam of light coming from a window high above him. The light hit the edge of the Axe of Sundering, making it shine in the darkness.
Alex looked around to see who had spoken to him, but as far as he could tell, he was alone.
“Who . . . who are you?” he asked.
The weak voice gave a nervous giggle that was quickly cut off.
Alex picked up the axe, and with some difficulty got to his feet.
“Where am I?” he demanded.
“Where you belong,” the voice hissed back at him. “In prison.”
A shadow moved away from the far wall and limped toward him. It waved its arm, and the light from the window flared white. Alex shielded his eyes from the sudden brightness. As
his eyes adjusted he looked around, trying to find answers.
Three of the walls around him were smooth, made of stone, and had a strange pearl-like color, but the fourth wall was made of gray-black bars. On the other side of the bars stood a man who Alex recognized now that he’d moved into the light. He was an old man with gray hair, wearing a long black robe that reached to the ground.
“Magnus,” Alex said. “I’m surprised the Brotherhood didn’t get rid of you after your failure in Nezza.”
Another fearful giggle escaped the old man.
“The Brotherhood protects its own. I have been waiting for this day since we last met, Master Taylor.” He sneered the word, making it sound like an insult.
“I defeated you once before, and I will defeat you again. You and the Brotherhood.”
“The Brotherhood is more powerful than you can possibly imagine. Do you honestly believe that you—alone—can do what no one else has been able to do in more than two thousand years?”
Alex gripped the handle of the Axe of Sundering more tightly.
“If I have to.”
“So brave, so proud, and so foolish.” Magnus took step toward Alex’s cell, and Alex saw that Magnus’s left leg and foot were made out of the same grey-black metal as the bars of his cell.
“I see you’ve recovered from your injury,” Alex said, nodding toward Magnus’s leg.
“This? Oh, yes. A gift from my master, Gaylan. Forged by magic and stronger than true silver. The same magical metal makes up the bars of your cell—and the walls . . . well, I’ll let you find out about the walls on your own.”
“How did I get here?” Alex asked.
“Jabez was connected to many magical people. At one time he was a member of the Brotherhood. We’ve been keeping a close eye on Jabez since he turned traitor. When you managed to break his magical connections with the Axe of Sundering, we knew exactly what was happening and where we could find you. Gaylan opened a portal, and we brought you and Whalen Vankin here. Just as our master planned.”
“It was a trap?” Alex asked.
Magnus shook his head. “No, it was an opportunity. One we had hoped for, planned for, and then seized when the moment arrived.”
“What do you want, then?” Alex asked.
Magnus lifted his shoulder in a small shrug. “You must have figured that out by now. You’ve seen what the Brotherhood has been working toward. Surely you are not blind.”
“You want to control the known lands,” Alex said quietly. “You want power.”
“We already have power,” Magnus answered, laughing at Alex’s answer. “Far more power than you dare guess. Now we will reach beyond the known lands, and you will help us achieve our goals. With you and your pretty little axe, we have the final pieces we need to win a complete victory.”
“Whatever it is you’re planning,” Alex said, “I will stop you.”
Magnus lifted his eyebrows. “How?”
Alex let loose his magic, sending a spell of destruction at Magnus and the bars that stood between them. The spell raced forward, but it never got even as far as the cell bars. The magic turned, divided, and melted into the stone walls and ceiling of his cell. Magnus stood, smiling wickedly at Alex, completely unafraid.
“Excellent,” Magnus said. “Now you learn the real power of your cell. The walls are made as the Orion stones were made. Your magic is now locked into these walls, and slowly, so very slowly, every drop of your magic will be sucked away.”
“You will never take my power!” Alex shouted, as he rushed forward and grabbed the bars of his cell. The bars burned his hands as if they were red hot, and he jerked back in pain.
Magnus laughed. “Looks like you need some time to cool off and consider things. Save what little strength you can, wizard. Gaylan will be along shortly, and if you play your part in our plans, he might just let you live.”
Magnus waved his arm again and the prison fell back into shadow. When Alex’s eyes had adjusted to the darkness, Magnus was gone.
Alex sat down on the cot that was at the back of his cell. He’d let the Axe of Sundering fall when he’d rushed the bars, and it lay on the floor in front of him. The weak light that filtered into the room made the axe appear to glow. Alex flexed his burned hands, trying to get rid of the pain. The heat from the bars hadn’t done any real damage to his hands, but it hurt all the same.
Leaning back against the wall, he took a good look at his surroundings for the first time. There was nothing there to help him, or at least nothing he could see. The axe might help, but Magnus had said the gray-black bars were stronger than true silver, and Alex wasn’t sure if he dared damaging the axe on them. He could actually feel his magic slipping slowly away and there was nothing he could do about it. A way out was what he needed, but all that he could think was Where is Whalen? Magnus had said that the Brotherhood had brought both Alex and Whalen here. He had to be close. Alex reached out with his magic to see if he could find Whalen, but the walls of his cell absorbed everything. He shouted for Whalen and thought he might have heard a weak groaning nearby, but he couldn’t be sure. He slumped against the wall, his mind racing, trying to make sense of what had happened and seeking a way to escape.
None of his thoughts gave Alex much hope, and slowly his mind slipped into a dark blankness, where no clear thinking could take place.
“All is not lost,” Alex’s O’Gash reassured him. “There is always a way out, even if you don’t see it at first.”
The stone felt cold behind Alex’s back, slowly leaching away his body heat. The tips of his fingers and toes began to tingle.
Alex hated waiting. He would much rather be doing something—anything—than sitting and waiting for someone else to make the first move. He forced himself to his feet and began to pace around the small cell. The motion helped bring warmth back to his hands and feet, and it was only then that he realized how cold the entire cell had become. He exhaled, surprised to see his breath cloud in front of his face.
The shimmering bars appeared to have been coated with a layer of frost, and the stone walls were as slick as ice.
What was happening? Was it a trick of the Brotherhood? An attack of some kind?
Alex increased his pacing, hoping the extra movement would help keep the cold at bay, but the temperature was dropping too fast. The floor grew slippery under his feet, and the air around him crystalized into small snowflakes.
He moved to stand as close to the bars as he could. Ice had begun to build up between the bars, nearly closing in the one open wall to his cell.
“Whalen!” Alex called, his voice shaking with the cold. “Whalen, where are you?”
Alex knew that if he didn’t do something fast, he would freeze to death.
Magnus had told him to “cool off”—he must have cast a spell. But how did you fight cold?
With heat, Alex thought.
He returned to the cot and held his hand over the bare mattress. “Inferno,” he said, remembering the first spell he had ever learned.
Nothing happened.
Alex’s heart dropped. It was the simplest spell he knew, one that required the least amount of magic. And if he couldn’t even make that one work, what hope did he have to work any other kind of magic?
“The magic is still inside you,” Alex’s O’Gash said. “Even if you can’t feel it or access it. It is a part of you.”
Alex folded his outstretched hand into a fist. His O’Gash was right. His magic wasn’t something that could be taken away by someone else. It was a part of him as much as his bones or his blood or his mind. It was part of what made him who he was. Alex picked up the Axe of Sundering, placed the head of it on the ground between his feet, and gripped the handle with both hands. If the axe could be used to sever connections to magic, maybe it could also be used to make connections to magic.
Alex closed his eyes and turned his thoughts inward, searching for that spark of magic that no spell or wizard or member of the Brotherhood could extinguish.
He remembered the fire of excitement he’d felt when he’d first seen the sign in Mr. Clutter’s shop, calling him on an adventure.
He remembered the blaze of anticipation when he’d been measured for his weapons and learned he could be a warrior and a wizard.
He remembered the heat that emanated off Slathbog’s body when Alex looked the dragon in the eye.
He remembered the magical fire that filled him when he wielded Moon Slayer in battle, the burning sands of Nezza under his feet, the heat of dwarven forges, and the purifying beauty of the Oracle of the White Tower.
He concentrated on those memories, reliving them one by one, until the handle of the axe grew warm beneath his hands.
He pushed further into his mind. He remembered the intensity of his emotions: his anger at facing down enemies who threatened the innocent people he tried to protect; his determination to uphold his honor, no matter the situation; his belief that good would always overcome evil.
He grit his teeth and reached for his deepest self, his truest self.
Dragonfire roared to life inside of him. Visions of the dragons he’d met filled his mind, Salinor leading the way, and he remembered that he was also a dragon.
My brother, Salinor said in his mind.
Alex’s body trembled with the force traveling through it. Heat poured off of him in waves, driving back the cold that had threatened to overwhelm him. The magic he had sought rushed back into him, filling him completely.
He would never let it go again.
He would never let the Brotherhood defeat him.
Alex opened his eyes. Steam rose from the floor where the axe rested. The weapon glowed with a bright silver-blue light. Alex braced himself, then lifted the blazing Axe of Sundering up, swinging it over his shoulder. He took two steps toward the frozen bars and, with a roar that began deep in his belly, Alex brought the axe around with all his strength.
The white-hot blade cut through the magical metal bars as if they were made of wax, the ice melting at the axe’s fiery touch.
Quickly, Alex carved a hole large enough for him to walk through. Once freed from his prison, he moved swiftly down a long hallway. There was only one other cell door, and when he looked inside, he saw his friend. With three quick strokes of the Axe, Alex was inside the cell and by Whalen’s side.