The King's Summons

by Adam Glendon Sidwell

  A different sort of spark tried to rise up in her but failed to ignite. “Come on!” Anger rising to meet her hunger, the world flashed red, and then her hands coursed with heat.

  The snow flash-melted and boiled the bread.

  “Wow. Ember Mage cook in hands. Never see,” said Dreck.

  “Yeah, I just made this up.”

  The hard loaf softened and rose, plumping into a loaf that glistened as the last drops of water sizzled away. Blaze took a piece and handed the rest to Dreck. “One loaf a day—standard rations.”

  “Pitiful ration,” said Dreck.

  “Sorry.”

  Dreck wolfed the bread down in a single gulp.

  “Ten pounds meat standard orc rations.”

  “Good grief,” she sighed.

  Dreck shrugged.

  Her stomach no longer growling for food, Blaze and Dreck returned to their tortured pace. The trail steepened as the sun dipped toward the western horizon.

  Dreck took her pack and slung it over one shoulder. Blaze was too tired to protest.

  That’s everything I own. He better not lose it.

  With the temperature dropping, Blaze thought wistfully of the hot springs.

  I could almost tolerate those horrible goblins.

  Almost.

  Ever wary, Blaze could not ignore the fact that every place to which Dreck had led her turned out to be a disaster, if not a baited trap. First there was the spawning point, then the orc jotnar-capturing party, Hetsa, the goblin thief’s guild at the hot spring, and now . . .

  Black Blood Peak.

  It all came down to this. She had to get Princess Sapphire back to safety. Whether or not the war in the Reach succeeded, the prophecy could not fail. The Goddess’s last words as she bound her essence to the Dark Consul to force him out of Crystalia had been the prophecy of the five. They were the only ones who could end the conflict.

  For years it had seemed the Dark Consul was gone. But by the time his spreading network of spawning points was discovered, it was too late.

  Everyone knew the Dark Consul himself could not enter the realm of Crystalia—not while he was still bound by the Goddess’s essence—but his invasion continued through the hands of power-hungry magicians. The loremasters often spoke of the infamous Ikalos, whose meddling had merged the Nether Realms and Crystalia in the region surrounding the Midnight Tower.

  Once enough of the entire realm had been taken by the darkness, there would be no barrier of Goddess-born light to hold him back. He would return, and all of Crystalia would fall to corruption, evil, and destruction.

  His return was imminent—so said the loremasters. And when he did, all faced their doom, unless the five defeated him—all five, Princess Sapphire included.

  Yet what of the dwarves who would fall to the ice giants Cernonos was trying to corrupt? Should Princess Sapphire abandon them to save herself?

  Logic said yes.

  But what would the Goddess want?

  Ask the monk.

  Right.

  “So,” Blaze said. “In your five days of training—or however long you studied, since time doesn’t seem to be your strong suit—did you discuss whether the Goddess would rather let a bunch of innocent people die to save one, or save as many as possible and then doom everybody?”

  Dreck’s already heavy eyebrows furrowed even deeper, like ledges overhanging two caves where his beady eyes stared ahead blankly.

  That’s a no.

  “Dreck learn Goddess’s will is not destination. Must follow path.”

  “Great,” she said lamely. “I’ll keep that in mind next time I have to make a decision that might just doom all Crystalia.”

  “Wandering Monk not walk path to be alone. Walk path to find others.”

  Blaze felt like someone had just dumped a bucket of cold water on the furnace of her thought forge.

  “Like weaving cloth. Find Goddess in the pattern, not thread,” said Dreck.

  “Come again?”

  “Weave thread together, we survive. Save thread, lose blanket.”

  “Ok, that’s gonna take some time to sink in,” Blaze muttered. For a long time, Blaze tried to put the orc’s infectiously ignorant thoughts out of her mind. But each time she turned them over in her head, she found only sands of confusion slipping through her fingers.

  “Once upon a time,” Dreck suddenly began.

  “Oh good, a bedtime story,” Blaze toned sarcastically.

  “Not bedtime. Just story.”

  “Got it.”

  “Orc raiders burn village.”

  “Heard this one before—I was there, remember?”

  “Dreck father there,” said the orc.

  That was a surprise. And not a welcome one. A pit formed in Blaze’s stomach.

  “Dreck father fight Princess Sapphire. Dreck father fall.”

  Blaze’s heart seized up. Dreck’s father was one of the four orc warriors who had attacked Princess Sapphire!

  “Princess fight but not kill. Princess stop soldiers. Let orcs go.”

  The words felt like a stab to her heart. “What?”

  “Princess show Crook-Eye tribe way of Goddess. Not cut thread—weave together.”

  Blaze was speechless. This whole time she had wanted revenge on the orcs for raiding her village, thinking Princess Sapphire to be her savior—the one who defeated them. But Princess Sapphire had let the murdering orcs go—LET THEM GO! She must have stopped the king’s cavaliers from running them into the ground.

  Why?

  Blaze’s head spun. Her palms sweat. Heat trickled up her spine. The world went a light shade of red. The inner spark had lit without her permission. Now it filled her.

  She didn’t want it.

  The inner fire grew. To dangerous levels beyond her control.

  “Blaze look hot,” said Dreck. He looked scared.

  “That’s what all the boys say,” she said, a twinge of pain stabbing her heart. Her joke fell flat. But it had worked. The fire connection short-circuited. Blaze let the rage pass. She stumbled forward, burying her hot hands in the icy snow.

  Tears melted down her cheeks.

  She was crying at his story now. Crying at her stupidity. Crying at her anger. Crying at her anger about her anger.

  “Get up,” said Dreck.

  “Honestly. How rude can—”

  Dreck smacked her with his pole, and she scrambled to her feet.

  He pointed ahead. “Snow bear.”

  If she had thought Dreck was big, she was wrong. The animal that lumbered toward her was crunching on moose antlers like hard candy. It rose over five feet at the shoulders, and that was while it was on all fours. Its pelt was matted white fur, and its claws were as long as Blaze’s hand.

  “All right, monk. Weave your way out of this one,” she said.

  “Ember Mage turn.”

  “Right.”

  Blaze tried to light the spark, but the heat was slow in coming—she’d just squelched it. Now she needed time.

  “Listen bear,” she snapped. “You don’t want to mess with me.” She pointed a finger at it, like a hamster scolding a hound. “I’ve pretty much had my whole life screwed up and—”

  The bear let loose a roar that knocked piles of snow off tree branches and flung streams of saliva toward her.

  “Oh, it is on!” Blaze extended her hands. “Nobody drools on me. Go fire!”

  Nothing.

  This was not good.

  Dreck exchanged a look of concern with Blaze. Then he heaved a great breath and gave a strange cacophonous cry, like an angry cow in the midst of a stampede.

  The bear gave him a piece of its mind with an even louder roar.

  Blaze’s ears were now ringing nonstop. “Is that supposed to be helping or making it madder?” she asked.

  Dreck began another round of horrendous noise making, even worse than the first.

  The bear, which h
ad been trying in vain to cover its ears with its paws, gave up and charged at Dreck.

  If he was dinner, she would be desert.

  In four lumbering strides the beast was in striking range.

  The bear blocked out most of her view. Up close, it was far larger than she had imagined. Few times in her life had she felt so small—so helpless.

  She was just a teenage girl. She couldn’t even beat the local tavern brutes in an arm wrestle.

  And this bear was going to tear Dreck apart. There had to be something she could do.

  But no fire!

  In pure desperation, Blaze leapt onto the bear’s flank and flung her arms around its thick neck.

  She failed to hold on. The bear turned wildly, bucking her off, and she managed to snag one ear as she swung under it.

  Like a horse’s head turned by a sharp bit, the bear’s head veered downward. Blaze hadn’t been trying to rip its ear off.

  A heavy crack sounded as Blaze rolled clear. She looked up to see the giant beast slump forward and slide to a stop, its enormous tongue lolling out.

  Dreck shouldered his staff. He’d dealt the knockout blow. “Not sleep long. Good idea run.”

  “Bad grammar, but I agree,” Blaze said. They didn’t have time for anything else. Its hide was too thick.

  The pair sprinted up an incline, then walked their way along a narrow ledge and descended into a deep ravine.

  Blaze’s terror at the encounter quickly turned to irritation. “Don’t even tell me you didn’t smell that thing, because even I could smell it.”

  “You actually listen. Not stop story,” said Dreck.

  “I was listening, so you didn’t tell me that thing was about to eat us! Keep that up and your wandering days are going to stop at—what is it now—seven, eight?” She brandished her fist. “Or was this the path the Goddess chose for you: near death by bear breath?”

  “Goddess not choose path. Monk choose own. Goddess fill with chances.”

  “You mean chances for death?”

  “Chances for make friend,” said Dreck.

  That felt like a piece of ice slipping into her lung. How could Dreck think they were close? Occasional allies, maybe, but friends? She still wasn’t even sure if she trusted him. The only reason she still traveled with him was so she knew where to go in this horrible, forbidden wasteland. In any other circumstance, she would be with anyone else, and Dreck? Well, Dreck would be alone.

  Dreck surely noticed that she said nothing after his comment. But he was a monk after all. He couldn’t hold a grudge. So, he had saved her life. His tribe—maybe even his father—had already taken her parents from her, and her village, and left her with a rage that had eventually gotten her thrown out of the Order of Ember and sent on a death-trap mission to these frozen slopes.

  And then Princess Sapphire had not only forgiven them after all that, she had turned to them for help.

  Dreck slowed as the trail flattened. “This meeting place.” He approached the edge of the overlook, crawled down on his stomach and peered over. Blaze, curious despite her exhaustion, lay down on the bare rock and looked out over the wide canyon below.

  Far down the canyon were the dim shapes of buildings.

  A city.

  “What’s that city near those frozen waterfalls?” Blaze asked. “Is that Dwarfholm Bastion?”

  “Nope,” Dreck said flatly. “You have a bad sense of direction. Do not travel alone. That is Foruk’s Falls. Reach by treacherous canyon—twelve hours by foot. Full day by wagon.”

  Blaze seethed. Farther up the canyon was another cluster of dwellings dimmed by the smoky haze of campfires or fog. “So Dwarfholm Bastion is that black and red smudge down there?”

  “Amazing,” Dreck said. “You are wrong every time. That is Rimefrost war camp. Dwarfholm Bastion underground.” He pointed to a line of peaks in the distance, beyond the ridge that defined the canyon. “See those black holes? Cavern entrances.” He jabbed a finger at the settlements. “Orc war camp between dwarf cities. See the white smudges? Orc tents.”

  Blaze tilted her head, frowning. “I don’t see any white smudges. I just see mounds of snow everywhere.”

  Dreck gave a low laugh. “You are dumb, but funny. You should do comedy.”

  “I am not funny. And I’m not dumb. You are just bad at explaining things.” She followed the orc, glaring at his back.

  “Maybe,” the orc said. “But my chief never tell me so. Perhaps he send message soon.”

  Rav was gone. Blaze had forgotten about that.

  “So, we’re basically waiting for Princess Sapphire. What’s the plan once she gets here?”

  “Dreck not know.” He rolled back his shoulders. The orc was impossible to read. Was he nervous? Glad? Confident? Eager?

  “What time is she supposed to be here?” Blaze said. Hiking, she could handle. Sitting still and waiting to get found, not at all.

  Dreck did not answer. He inhaled slowly, for what seemed like an entire minute.

  Good grief, how large are his lungs?

  “Orcs coming.”

  “Orcs. Which orcs? Crook-Eye Orcs—the orcs bringing Princess Sapphire?”

  Dreck held out his hand for silence.

  The low sun cast long shadows across the snow, like daggers and arrows in flight.

  Twilight.

  Blaze let her anxiety build, drawing it to a point within her. If it was the enemy, they weren’t going to get a friendly welcome from her. There weren’t many human teenagers with the stamina to hike all day in the Frostbyte Reach and still be ready for action.

  There was probably only one.

  Blaze was nearly acclimated to the altitude, had eaten decent food, and still had plenty of energy to channel her inner fire. She was ticked off at the Order of Ember, at the Rimefrost Orcs, at the bear, at Dreck’s story about Princess Sapphire releasing the Crook-Eye tribe—at nearly everything. The slightest incident would put her over the edge. She regulated her breathing, staying just below the ignition point. She couldn’t afford to summon the fire too early and flame out before the danger arrived. The incident with the bear had nearly cost both of them their lives.

  She stretched her fingers, listening for the sounds of approaching feet.

  Like Dreck, these orcs knew how to move in silence. He sniffed again and made a fist, the bone spurs on his knuckles rising.

  That’s not good.

  There was a slight flash of blue on the edge of the wood. Strange. Blaze thought she recognized it, then it was gone.

  Shadows shifted in a cluster of quaking aspens to their right. The trees trembled and three full-sized orcs stepped into the clearing.

  Blaze had forgotten how much larger they were than Dreck. He was nearly as tall as them, but they were almost twice as wide, and surely twice as strong.

  Blaze could make out their tusks jutting up from their jaw. But the patterns on their faces—the tell-tale tattoos—were still in shadow.

  “Hail, orc-cousins,” said Dreck. He held up a hand in greeting.

  The three orcs did not reply but took two steps closer.

  “Dreck, what is going on? Where is the pr—”

  A small gesture from Dreck’s hand cut her off.

  This is not good.

  She could now see two of the orcs well enough to make out a curling tattoo over their eyes. Crook-Eyes. The one in the center—the largest—wore a helmet. It was lined by snow bear fur.

  Rimefrost Orc.

  She felt the spark inside grow. She nursed it.

  The two Crook-Eyes stepped back from the helmeted orc.

  So, if the Rimefrost Orc wasn’t their prisoner. That meant . . .

  I am.

  “Goddess-loving, Dreck,” said the orc on the right. “Better you not come here.”

  “You said we were going to meet your—what is going on, Dreck?” Blaze whispered.

  “Where my father?” Dreck said, his voice
and his staff steady.

  “With the rest,” said the Rimefrost Orc, “of the unworthy.”

  Blaze desperately wanted to ask if Princess Sapphire was among their captives, but she couldn’t risk it. There was a chance they didn’t know she was here. She had to find out what she could before she gave anything away.

  “What unworthy?” Blaze said. “How many?”

  “All who follow Goddess,” said the orc on the left. “Human.” He glowered at Blaze.

  Dreck’s face made the first expression Blaze could recognize. He was hurt by what this orc had said. He knew him.

  “So, you found out we were coming and came to capture us?” Blaze said.

  “Urkit tell Crook-Eye to send message.” The Rimefrost Orc beat his chest with his fist. “Urkit find true orcs—kill the rest.”

  “No,” Dreck said.

  “First you see new orc power. Then you die.”

  That’s it. Flame on.

  Blaze lit her inner fire. The world flashed suddenly red, as if the sun had set. This time, she did not light fire on her hands; she wouldn’t hurl fireballs, but massed all of it within herself, building a volcano on the verge of eruption. Any trace of cold disappeared. The snow beneath her feet began to soften.

  “I hate to break it to you,” Blaze said. “But three of you versus an Ember Mage—it’s not going to go well. And trust me when I tell you there is no more painful way to die than by fire.”

  The orcs laughed. More shadows shifted behind them. From behind every tree in the wood massive orcs stalked forward, some with clubs, others with hammers, others with bows as thick as Blaze’s thigh, or swords large enough to fell a tree. At least a dozen of them were armed with the same rune-marked shields that had repelled her fire earlier. She was outmatched.

  She looked over her shoulder. There were even more behind her.

  “Dreck—how could this happen? Was this a trap—did you know about this?”

  “Dreck not know. Dreck always suspect orc. Darkness here make friends enemies.” He looked at the orc on the left who remained just as unreadable.

  “What are we going to do?” said Blaze. “We can’t just surrender.”

  Dreck held out his staff in both hands and let it fall. “Dreck not fight.”

  “Oh, come on.” Blaze lit her hands. “Fine. I’ll do this myself.” Blaze hurled two fireballs before a net of cold metal wrapped around her from behind. As soon as the cables of woven wire touched her, the fire within shorted out.