by Dan Zangari
The party was moving once again. They traveled through the trees for a while until Melthas called for a halt. A cave was nestled within a hill, about a hundred phineals away. A moment later, a patrol exited the cave, marching toward the lake. The patrol consisted of fourteen soldiers, the equivalent of two squads in the Mindolarn army.
This must be the incursion point, Cornar thought, eyeing the cave. A path led from it down to the shore. Cornar hadn’t noticed the path when the soldiers were marching.
Melthas and the others watched the patrol move along the shore. The soldiers marched toward the castle, unaware of the invisible men.
The Castle of Laelin Lake was a towering off-white structure atop a rocky hill. It was grand looking, with towers rising high into the sky. At its highest point it looked to be over twenty stories tall. How was that even possible? Cornar knew of towering structures—the Fortress of Anigar and the ruins of Klindil rose that high or higher—but he thought no one in Kalda’s current era had the skill to construct such wonders. A stone bridge spanned the distance from the rocky hill to the foothills of nearby mountains. That bridge looked to be the only way into the castle.
Cornar caught a glimpse of his father giving a signal, gesturing with two of his fingers. The party continued, two by two, until they reached the cave.
Melthas gave signals with his hands, but Cornar didn’t know what the signals meant. The other members of the elite band dismounted and broke up into several groups. Then they filed into the cave, guiding their horses.
Unsure of what to do, Cornar got behind one of the groups. The cavern was roughly hewn but was lit by lightstones recessed into cracks in the ceiling.
Partway through the cave, Melthas noticed him and signed something that Cornar didn’t understand. He knew a little about hand-signing languages, but what Melthas was using was completely foreign.
Shaking his head, Melthas broke from his group. He handed his reins to Adrin and crept to Cornar. “What are you doing, Naedar?” Melthas demanded. “You’re out of formation.”
“Sorry…” Cornar frowned. “My head is still fuzzy from that fall.” Would that work?
“You’re with Vedin,” Melthas whispered. “First group on the left.” Cornar looked farther down the cave to the group mentioned by his father. They were turning down a side tunnel. Cornar quickened his pace and caught up to them.
“Are you okay, Naedar?” one of the men asked. Was this Vedin?
“My head is still fuzzy,” Cornar said, feigning embarrassment. Perhaps I can get some answers about specifics.
“He’s a liability,” said one of the men.
“Perhaps he should head back,” another suggested tersely.
“No,” the first said. He gave Cornar a refresher of their plan. They were to ambush patrols as they passed through the caves. Patrols came through a hidden path from the castle, through these caves, and down to the lake. Melthas and his Elites, however, couldn’t infiltrate the castle that way, as patrols marched one direction through these caves. They would have to pick off several patrols and finish their rounds in order to get inside. Adrin’s source had given them a specific patrol route to follow, as well as other routes they could use inside the castle.
After a while, footfalls echoed down the cave’s main vein. Within seconds, another patrol of fourteen soldiers passed. Vedin led the others back into the main vein, blocking a possible escape for the patrol. Two other groups would be doing the same at the cave’s mouth.
Gasps and startled sounds filled the cave as Melthas and some of his Elites attacked the patrol. The Mindolarnians were dead within seconds.
The group that had gone ahead on the right—led by a man named Jamar—appeared from their invisibility and undressed the soldiers. Soon, they were all clad in Mindolarn armor. One of the men cast a spell, washing away the blood on some of their armor with magical water.
Jamar’s group continued down the cave, marching like the Mindolarnians.
Once they were gone, Adrin moved to the bodies, casting a spell. Purple magic gathered in his hands and persisted around his fingers. He touched each of the bodies, completely disintegrating them. There was nothing left of the Mindolarn soldiers when he was done. The men around Cornar sneaked back into the side tunnel, waiting for another patrol.
Another patrol came and was dispatched like the first. One of the groups in the rear, by the cave’s mouth, took the armor and continued the dead men’s patrol.
Three more patrols were felled in like manner.
Cornar’s group donned the armor of the last patrol as Adrin approached. The grand mage stopped before touching the dead. “Naedar, you should come with us,” Adrin said.
“Good,” one of the men grumbled. “Don’t want him messing up our formation.”
Vedin chided the soldier for his rude remark, but the man just sulked. Soon, Vedin’s group was marching out of the cave, having taken someone from Melthas’s group to replace Cornar.
Adrin went about destroying the bodies and Cornar lingered beside him. Cornar glimpsed his father tossing something on the ground, but he couldn’t tell what; the light from the ceiling wasn’t bright enough.
All the soldiers with Melthas rounded up the horses. They moved back toward the cave entrance with Adrin, each gripping several reins.
Cornar watched Adrin cast a spell, mustering golden light. A conjuration spell? he wondered. Cornar stopped beside his father, watching as a wave of golden light washed from Adrin and enveloped the soldiers and the horses. The golden light pulled back toward Adrin, but when it faded, they were all gone. All that remained was a lingering odor, like rotten eggs mixed with citrus juice. It was an unmistakable scent that screamed, “Someone just cast a teleportation spell.”
Not a minute had passed when more golden light appeared, coalescing above a black dome on the ground. Cornar started upon seeing it. How was his father in possession of that?
Several silhouettes stood out within the light. As the light faded it revealed Adrin and the other Elites who had taken the horses.
“We need to move ahead,” Adrin said. “The next patrol will undoubtedly smell the effect of my crystals.”
Melthas guided everyone farther into the tunnel. Somehow, everyone managed to stay invisible. Adrin must have cast his invisibility on those who teleported away with him. That impressed Cornar. His father’s band of Elites was highly organized. It made him wonder how this mission would fail.
Soon, another patrol came. Melthas and the others slew them quickly. Once the Mindolarn soldiers were dead, Melthas and the others removed their armor. Adrin disintegrated the dead Mindolarnians, and then the last group of Elites marched out of the cave.
* * * * *
It had taken nearly an hour to reach the bridge leading to the castle. The Castle of Laelin Lake was even more impressive up close. The decorative stonework on the outside was exquisite. Much of the architectural detail consisted of sharp curves, like a talon or claw. Each of the towers looked like a cone cupped by a clawed creature. They looked… wicked.
Cornar and the others passed another patrol crossing the bridge. Melthas marched at their head, with Adrin right behind him.
They approached the castle’s main gateway and waited for it to open. Another gate was behind the first. When both gates were closed, this space became a kill box. Cornar was careful not to take in sweeping glances as he studied his surroundings. Arrow slits lined the walls of the gateway, occupied by archers and what looked to be mages.
A wave of white magic fell upon him and the others, but did nothing. It was probably a dispel.
“You’re clear,” a man said from beyond the second gate, making a gesture—undoubtedly a signal to raise the gate.
Once the second gate was open, Melthas led Cornar and the others into the castle wards, passing several buildings. They continued their patrol toward the towering main keep. Cornar swore it looked taller up close. Instead of moving to the entrance, Melthas took them to the right. They fil
ed into an alleyway where more of Melthas’s Elites waited.
“Jamar’s group is making rounds on the ramparts,” Kaemar said. He was one of the men who had led a group back at the cave’s entrance. “Vedin is making a round in the main keep. Someone overheard a banquet being held on the eighteenth floor.”
Eighteenth floor? Cornar fought the urge to widen his eyes. How tall was this place?
“Alegar is most likely there,” Adrin said.
“I agree,” Melthas nodded. He surveyed his troops and then turned. “We make a round up there, then find a quiet place to gather everyone.”
Melthas led his group back toward the entrance of the main keep. They entered the castle’s grand foyer without any resistance. After all, they looked like a typical patrol.
Grand was too modest a word for the grand foyer. It was downright ostentatious. The room was three stories of gaudy décor, all colored in red and gold. It was made of off-white stone—what kind Cornar didn’t know—although it didn’t look like anything natural.
Melthas guided them to the left of the grand foyer, toward a hallway. It was only one story tall, but it was decorated in the same fashion as the foyer. Melthas led them through the hall, turning a corner.
A wave of heat washed over Cornar as they turned.
“Cor,” Igan’s voice boomed through the hallway.
No! Cornar wailed. Not now, can’t I sleep longer? He looked to Adrin. Can’t you keep me here?
Adrin glanced back to Cornar and shook his head.
Suddenly, myriad colors raced away from Cornar, like shooting stars. Everything went black for a moment, and he glimpsed a gigantic figure before him. It was not human.
Cornar blinked, finding himself back in the tunnels below Klindil. Damn it! he cursed inwardly.
“I think I passed out,” Gregan groaned. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” Cornar said, steeling his composure. “It was probably the heat.” He wished he were back in that yellow-sky realm. Then his stomach growled, and he recalled that he never felt hungry or fatigued in that dreamland. “Let’s get moving.”
Soon, they were all back in the magma chamber. Cornar strode at the head of the band, carefully descending the sloping ramp. He shielded his face from the heat, squinting. It got hotter the farther they went.
After an hour they rounded the bend at the far end of the chamber. To Cornar’s surprise, nothing was there—besides more lava. The ridge along the cavern’s edge stopped about three hundred phineals away, descending into the lava.
“Well, that was a short trip,” Vargos said, sighing.
Cornar looked about the cavern, searching for anything that might look out of the ordinary.
“Perhaps it’s buried under the magma,” Kalder speculated. He paced ahead of Cornar, peering into the boiling magma.
This couldn’t be a dead end, could it? Cornar struggled to remember the rest of the cave’s layout. He sighed, feeling defeated. The magma chamber curved again, sprawling around another bend to the right.
“Uh, Cor,” Igan said.
Cornar turned, seeing the wizard standing beside the cavern’s wall. Igan was touching what looked to be handholds. The handholds, however, weren’t just random notches in the wall. There was a pattern to them. With his eyes, Cornar followed their path, which rose two stories and stopped at a narrow ledge.
“Up there?” Solidin asked, pointing to the ledge. “Shall I scout ahead?” The elf stepped toward the handholds but Cornar grabbed him.
“If you fall—”
“I won’t fall.” Solidin grinned. The elf swiftly scaled the wall and pulled himself onto the ledge. There was barely enough room for him to stand.
“There’s a cave up here,” Solidin shouted. He hugged the wall, edging away from the party. He was dangerously close to where the ramp descended into the lava.
Don’t fall… Cornar sucked in his breath. “Vargos.” He glanced to the barsionist, but Vargos was already doing what Cornar had intended to command.
Vargos finished his spell and the barsion magic wisped along the ledge, creating a temporary footing for Solidin.
“Thanks!” Solidin shouted down to them. The elf soon disappeared beyond the narrow ledge.
As Cornar anxiously awaited Solidin’s return., Gregan said, “We should follow him.” Cornar nodded in agreement.
“I’ll make a ramp,” Vargos said, waving to the area behind him. “Go over there.”
The men complied, and Vargos cast another spell. More barsion magic formed a brilliant blue ramp that merged with the barrier extending the ledge.
From this vantage point, Cornar could see the cave. How had he missed it before? The six men quickly crossed the magic. Once they got to the cave, Solidin reappeared.
“It’s there!” the elf said with excitement. “Oh, and it is a grand sight!”
Solidin led Cornar and the others through the cave. It turned a few times, but soon emptied onto a ledge within an enormous U-shaped cavernous chamber. This second chamber, however, didn’t have a pool of magma for its floor. In fact, Cornar couldn’t see anything beneath them. And the entire space was lit… jagged veins shone pale-purple light along the cavern’s walls and ceiling.
“Now where?” Igan asked, looking about the cavern.
Cornar quietly surveyed the cavern with a panoramic gaze. Huge stalactites hung from the ceiling, glistening much like the walls. At their bases, they were about the size of a building.
While the others studied the space, Cornar’s eyes were drawn across the cavern, to the protruding curve in the wall. About a couple of stories below them was a wide niche, hollowed like a gigantic alcove. The glowing veins lit the alcove brightly, showing the exterior of a building chiseled out of the stone.
“There.” Solidin pointed to the alcove. “The temple is in that stalactite.”
Stalactite? Cornar set his jaw. Wasn’t that the cavern’s wall? That wasn’t a stalactite—no… He gasped, seeing the cavern’s wall narrow the farther it descended into that bottomless pit.
It was a stalactite… but how was it hanging? And… it was massive!
Solidin and the men debated how they would cross the chasm.
Footsteps reached Cornar’s ears, coming from the magma chamber. He furrowed his brow, listening. There were dozens of footfalls.
“Everyone, quiet!” Cornar commanded. He took one step back toward the magma chamber.
Men in white armor appeared, startling Cornar. He didn’t recognize them. He jumped, reaching for his weapons. As Cornar grabbed the hilts, he realized the men were not men at all—they were elves!
By Heleron’s Trident! he gasped, glancing back to Solidin, who didn’t look surprised.
Cornar returned his focus to the elves. Some of them had a blue emblem emblazoned across their breastplates. He recognized that symbol… it was used by elves from Merdan—notorious soldiers of the Elven Aristocracy of Merdan.
“It’s them!” Igan shouted. “The Merdan elves… but—”
“The Sapphire Guard,” Cornar said, and gritted his teeth. These, these were the elves that frightened Krindal. And rightly so. The Sapphire Guard was a relentless bunch with an odd sense of morality. They would commit atrocities but see men like Krindal and Iltar—wielders of the necrotic arts—as the true evil in the world. They were chaotically zealous and would do anything to impose their standards upon all Kalda.
Had they killed all of Krindal’s men? Is that why Krindal had come to the Necrotic Order, to receive aid against these elves?
“Solidin, esul tigil mairali naidial,” one of the elves said in Elvish, holding out a necklace with a gem inlaid at its center. The gem looked like the stone Krindal used to activate the mapping tevisral.
That bastard! Cornar growled, spinning to face Solidin, his anger boiling. Without restraint, Cornar drew his weapons, but he was seized upon before the blades left their scabbards.
Solidin grinned as he stepped to the elves. He grabbed the necklace and pu
t it around his neck.
Other elves moved past Solidin, gauntleted hands outstretched. They squared off with Cornar’s men but didn’t advance.
Words of an incantation echoed from behind Cornar, cast by one of the elves. Vargos began casting his own spell, as did Igan.
“You’re outnumbered,” Solidin said sternly, “Forty to one. Just surrender.”
The elven mage finished his spell faster than Igan and Vargos. Gray particles zipped through the air. The magic struck the mages and warriors, abruptly stilling them with a mind-control spell.
Once Cornar’s men were stilled, elves rushed forward, pulling Kalder and the others back into the cave. A couple of elves unraveled scarves glowing a lime-green hue. They wrapped those around Igan and Vargos’s mouths.
Elven scarves, Cornar thought with a groan. They had a different name, but Cornar couldn’t remember what it was. Merchants sometimes peddled them on Soroth’s black market. Iltar had considered buying one a few years back. The necromancer claimed the fibers were made with a type of dust that had nullifying properties. Such scarves would inhibit anyone from mustering magic. Some governments used them to capture criminal mages.
“Calm yourself, Cornar,” Solidin said. The elf holding Cornar turned him to face Solidin. “I want you to know that this was not personal,” Solidin said. “I actually like you, a lot.”
“Why…?” Cornar demanded.
“To put it simply, I lost my tevisral that creates the map to the Keepers’ Temples,” he said, and sighed. “Those collapses outside Klindil weren’t the first, you know,” the traitorous elf said, setting his jaw. “The night before the earthquake, our camp experienced a tremor. We must have been sitting on top of a weakened part of the trans-tube line. When the tremor struck, half of our camp collapsed, including my tent.
“Luckily, we only lost a couple of the Guard, but my tevisral was crushed beneath the rubble, sheered in half. Needless to say, it wasn’t working after that.” Solidin paused, stepping closer to Cornar.
“I didn’t know how we were going to find the temple. I thought we might try following the Mindolarnians. But they have such a sizeable force, we would risk a battle. With their current numbers, I don’t know if we could slay them like last time. We were evenly matched in number then, but my company had the better skill.” His words rang with arrogance. “We could have slain them all, if it hadn’t been for that abominable prince.”