The Fragment of Power

by Ben Hale

  “Your ancestor fought in the Mage Wars,” Mind said. “Did you know that?”

  Moren blinked in surprise at the shift in conversation. “My ancestor disappeared during the war. How do you know her fate?”

  Mind stabbed a finger at the Titan. “She was the one chosen to become this Titan.”

  Moren’s eyes widened. “How can you know this?”

  “Your ancestor was forced to become this Titan,” He said. “The Verinai believed that a mind mage was required. She did in fact empower the Titan, but she did not move or speak, and died to prevent the Verinai from knowing their success.”

  “She fought?” Moren seemed stunned.

  “And won,” Mind said. “Elenyr found her, and spoke to her in the final moments of her life. She brought her child so she could say goodbye. And that is why your bloodline is beholden to her.”

  Moren’s entire ancestry had served Elenyr without understanding why. Mind was giving the man the reason. Mind chaffed at the man’s struggle to understand. Dawn was just moments away, and they still had to make the return journey. In the Titan, they could cross the distance in just a couple of hours, but every second counted.

  “I never knew,” Moren breathed.

  “This is your chance,” Mind urged. “If you do this, your family’s oath to Elenyr will be fulfilled.”

  Moren stared at the Titan, the truth settling on him like a mantle. His jaw tightened and he looked to his daughter, who nodded her head, an unspoken accord. Then Moren straightened and turned to Mind.

  “What do we do?”

  Mind directed them to climb up the Titan, to the access panel in the chest. Using his magic, he unlocked the latch inside and it swung open with a creak. Inside, the space was hardly large enough for a single person, the walls of the space glowing faintly, pulsing with long buried power.

  Mind reached into the threads of power. The musculature of the war machine had been patterned after a rock troll, and beneath the thick armor and great skeleton, the chest cavity contained a reservoir of power that still survived to this day. Mind used his gravity magic to compress the reservoir, shaping a new space inside, a place for two more occupants.

  “Get inside,” Mind said.

  The two mind mages clambered into the opening and squeezed into the recess Mind had created. Mind then claimed the center seat. He reached to the panel as he gave the final instructions.

  “This Titan carries an enormous load,” he said. “If I were alone, it would probably kill me. But the three of us can share the burden if we blend our magics into a single focus.”

  “A melding?” Stella abruptly appeared nervous. “Are you certain?”

  “All will be well,” Moren said. “Do as he says.”

  Sitting so close their shoulders touched, Mind met her gaze. “Anything I see in your mind, I will never reveal.”

  She hesitated, and then nodded, and Mind shut the latch. Then he closed his eyes and reached to the other two mind mages. After a lifetime of holding strict mental barriers, Mind lowered his shields, allowing the three to meld.

  As they merged, Mind caught glimpses of Stella’s life, events and places, joys and embarrassments. He saw Moren as well, his pride of his daughter, his fear of the battle they would face. They, in turn, saw him. Mind fought the urge to shield his vulnerability, but felt Stella smile when she saw his attraction for her.

  He reached for the Titan, his magic empowered by the two mind mages. The energy coursed through the Titan’s flesh, flooding into limbs and extremities, filling the armor and sinews. The melding was only as strong as the mind mages that performed the joining, and all three were committed. Mind delved deeper into the magic, giving himself into the Titan’s enormous reservoir of power. A smile spread on his face and he opened his eyes—but his eyelids did not lift.

  On the outside of the statue, the eyes of the Titan began to glow.

  Chapter 35: Return to Xshaltheria

  “It’s almost dawn,” Fire said, peering into the clouds below. “Are we almost there?”

  “We are close,” Senia said. “I can foresee our arrival.”

  “How many fiends are still in the fortress?” Fire asked.

  “Too many to fight,” Senia said.

  “I can fight a lot of foes,” Fire retorted.

  “They are still coming through the Dark Gate,” Senia said.

  “Still?”

  The news shocked Fire. Before the clouds had obscured the earth, he’d watched the entire landscape undulate and shift as the fiends advanced to the southwest. Much of southern Griffin was covered in their dark forms. If they were still coming through the Dark Gate, that meant they numbered well into the millions.

  We will be victorious, Isray rumbled.

  “I like your optimism,” Senia said, patting the white dragon on the neck.

  “As long as the Dark Gate shuts, we will be fine,” Lachonus said from the back of the group.

  “Easy,” Fire said.

  Lachonus laughed. “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s do this.”

  “Don’t take this lightly,” Senia said, her tone filled with disapproval. “Everything hangs on us.”

  “I’m not taking it lightly,” Fire said. “Life is just better when you focus on the amusing bits.”

  Lachonus grinned, and Fire decided he liked the man. Fire wondered how he’d been born of such a terrible woman, but perhaps his better qualities had come from his father’s side. Isray rumbled in irritation and banked to the side, dropping into the clouds in order to stay hidden.

  “What’s the plan to get inside the fortress?” Fire asked.

  “Draeken and his generals were spotted at Ilumidora,” Senia said. “Unless they have one of Serak’s Gates, they cannot return to Xshaltheria.”

  “So it’s just us and a million fiends,” Fire nodded. “That’s not so bad.”

  I can land on the east side of the mountain, Isray said. There are less defenses there, and we should be able to ascend to the fortress unseen.

  “And what about getting inside?” Lachonus asked. “From what you’ve described, there is a large gap between the rim of the volcano and the fortress. If we fall, we fall into the volcano.”

  “It’s nice this time of year,” Fire said.

  “Says the one who is immune to heat.”

  Fire grinned. “I should be able to shape the heat into a bridge we can use to reach the fortress.”

  Senia agreed with a nod. “Once we are inside, I’ll watch our immediate future so we can sneak inside the fortress and find the Dark Gate. When we get there, Lachonus will need to do his part.”

  “And what part is that?” Lachonus asked. “You’ve been irritatingly silent on the matter.”

  “All I know is that Draeken placed a sentry at the Gate,” Senia said. “One he crafted with his own hands.”

  “So it will be powerful,” Fire said. “Probably some sort of golem. Possibly a sentient.”

  “I thought a sentient takes years to craft,” Lachonus said.

  “For a normal mage,” Fire said. “Not a guardian, and Draeken is the most powerful guardian ever created.”

  “How am I supposed to kill a sentry like that?” Lachonus tapped the hilt of his sword. “I like my blade, but it’s not like it will do much against a being of magic.”

  “Look at your sword,” Senia said.

  Lachonus frowned and pulled his sword partly out of its scabbard. His eyes widened at the dark metal and he pulled it the rest of the way free. He touched the smooth black blade and whistled in appreciation.

  “It’s my sword.”

  Senia smiled at his surprise. “A new sword would not have had the same balance as yours. Plus it’s rather hard to find a katsana with anti-magic attached to the steel.”

  “When did you do this?” Lachonus asked.

  “I had it crafted last night,” Senia said. “My friend did not have time to cast an enduring charm, but it will last for a few weeks, or long enough for a single b
attle.”

  “Don’t touch me with that thing,” Fire said.

  Lachonus abruptly cursed, drawing their attention. His hand was empty, and he was looking over the side of the dragon. He grimaced and turned to Senia, his expression apologetic. Senia’s features clouded with anger.

  “Did you drop it?”

  “Is it bad if I did?” Lachonus asked.

  “I don’t have a replacement in my pocket,” Senia snapped.

  I’ll get it.

  Isray folded his wings and dropped out of the sky. Fire sucked in his breath as the wind billowed past them. Passing through the clouds into open air, he scanned the earth, and recognized the mountain range. It was the same that connected to Xshaltheria, and bordered the southern side of the valley where the alliance had fought the fiends.

  “I can’t believe a swordsman dropped his sword,” Senia fumed.

  “I would never drop my sword,” he protested. “But I would test the oracle’s skill.”

  Fire spun in his seat, just as Lachonus pulled the sword into view. He began to laugh as Senia glared at him. Isray opened his wings and pulled out of his dive, the rumble in his chest indicating he was less than pleased.

  “You want to test me?” Senia’s voice turned dangerous.

  “Not when you ask like that,” Fire said.

  Her eyes flicked to him, and Fire regretted speaking. Then his smile faded as he looked beyond Isray’s spiked head and through the gap between two peaks. He could just make out Xshaltheria.

  “Down,” he hissed.

  “I’m not falling for that again,” Senia snapped.

  “Down,” Fire snarled.

  Hearing the warning in his voice, Isray dropped lower, falling behind the string of peaks. Suddenly tense, the three remained silent as the white dragon found a roost behind a ridge. Fire dropped from the saddle and sprinted up the slope, slowing as he reached the top.

  The peak on his right rose into the clouds. Fire took a place behind a boulder and surveyed the valley beyond, and Xshaltheria rising in the east. Senia and Lachonus joined him, and the oracle lowered her voice.

  “What did you see?”

  Fire didn’t respond. The remains of the scattered tents and war machines were still present in the valley, visible in the horde of fiends marching west. The river that ran through the center of the valley was almost invisible beneath their sheer mass.

  The volcano sat at the eastern end of the valley, a dark haze rising from its mouth. The road and battlements had more fiends, the creatures marching from the gates at the western side of the volcano’s mouth.

  Isray morphed into Rake and he joined them, but Fire motioned them to silence. All four scanned the fortress, and then a large shape dropped out of the clouds and settled on the rim of the volcano. Rake sucked in his breath.

  “Gorewrathian is here?”

  “That’s what you saw?” Lachonus asked.

  Fire nodded. “I saw his wing as he turned back. Both of Draeken’s dragons are here.”

  “He must have sent them back to guard the fortress,” Senia said.

  “You didn’t see it?” Rake asked.

  She cast him a withering glare. “As Lachonus has just irritatingly demonstrated, I do not foresee everything. I can only catch glimpses of the future.”

  “Is this a bad time to point out that I saved us all?” Lachonus asked.

  “How did you do that?” Rake asked.

  “If I hadn’t pretended to drop my sword, we would have flown around the fortress and come from the east, where we surely would have been discovered by the two red dragons.”

  Fire grinned. “He has a point.”

  Senia rolled her eyes. “If I didn’t need you, I would kill you.”

  “So what do we do?” Rake motioned to the red dragons. “Gorewrathian is the king of dragons for a reason. He’s four times larger than Isray, and that doesn’t include Bendelinish.”

  Serak’s dragon appeared out of the clouds and curved around the fortress, obviously on patrol. Gorewrathian dropped from the volcano and flapped for altitude before turning into the valley. It soared south, towards the foursome, before sweeping along the mountainside.

  Fire ducked behind the boulder, crouching with the others as the great shadow passed above them. Senia grimaced and shook her head, but Fire realized why she was angry. She blamed herself for not seeing the dragon’s presence.

  “We need a new plan,” Fire said.

  “And it needs to be fast,” Lachonus said. “Noonday is only a few hours away.”

  “Can you see another way in?” Rake looked to Senia.

  Fire watched the doubt on her features. The entire plan hinged on them destroying the Dark Gate. They’d counted on Draeken retaining the bulk of his forces at Ilumidora, leaving Xshaltheria open to attack.

  Senia’s jaw set in a firm line and she settled into a hollow between the boulder and the rock. “I’ll have to,” she said.

  As Senia dropped into her farsight, Fire returned his gaze to Xshaltheria. The presence of the dragons changed everything. The four of them would be hard pressed to kill a single dragon, let alone a second—or the fiends. And that didn’t include Draeken’s mysterious sentry.

  His thoughts shifted to his brothers. The sun would rise soon, and when it did, the final battle would begin. Elenyr, the other fragments, everyone had hung their hopes that he and the others could destroy the Gate at the appointed hour. He grimaced as another person came to mind.

  He hadn’t seen Soreena since before the Stormdial, but she came often to his thoughts. He hoped she was in her druid village north of Erathan, far from the war. If they failed, there was no place far enough, but it was a consolation that the woman he cared for would not have to witness the end. He smiled as he realized such a hope was fool’s hope. Soreena was a leader and a soldier. She was probably already at Ilumidora, ready to fight for her tribe.

  He put his hand on the boulder and felt the cold stone, ignoring Lachonus and Rake arguing about different options. Fire set his gaze on the dragons in the distance, and accepted that whatever the cost, he would make sure the Dark Gate was destroyed.

  Chapter 36: Walls of Glass

  As dawn approached, Shadow dropped from the aquaglass wall and threaded his way through the lethal field of traps and pitfalls. From there, he entered the ranks of fiends. Disturbingly, they stood silent, or occasionally rocked in place, their blank eyes fixed on the city of Ilumidora. Some were still occupied in tearing down trees, but the rest resembled statues of flesh, waiting on the order of their master to attack.

  In his elemental form, Shadow slipped among them, using the darkness to weave threads of magic from krakas and sipers, to quare and skorpians. The threads of magic were invisible in the dark, but they would be as binding as chains until the sun came up. More and more he cast, binding them together, wrapping the chords around broken trees and under fallen logs.

  He stifled a chuckle as he wrapped a shadow rope around a kraka’s horns and then tossed a loop over the sword of its neighbor. Then he fastened the thread to the claw of a skorpian. When the predawn glow touched the eastern horizon, he retreated back through the landscape of pitfalls and scaled the aquaglass wall. On the other side, the ranks of soldiers tasked for the night watch failed to see him, even when he passed right in front of their eyes.

  Shadow reached the top of the wall and clambered over, and found Elenyr leaning against the battlements. Shadow chuckled to himself as he straightened, but did not wonder how the Hauntress had known his intention. She always knew.

  “Did you enjoy yourself?” she asked.

  “Not as much as I will at sunrise,” he said.

  She inclined her head. “We don’t have long to wait.”

  They both turned to watch the fiend army gradually materialize as daylight approached. The fiends began to stir, a swell of motion across the landscape as far as Shadow could see. Captains and officers barked orders, and archers notched arrows. Crossbowmen laid bolts into
place and ballistae operators armed their war machines. The grinding of stone echoed across the city as boulders were rolled into catapults.

  “Where’s Light?” Shadow asked.

  “While you were out playing, he built his own war machine.” She pointed to the cavalry ling up behind the northern gates.

  One contraption stood out from the rows of horsemen. The machine had been built atop a wagon, and looked much like a carver, a spinning wheel of spiked blades that could cut through steel and bone, only this wagon had three carvers, all pointing in opposite directions. Willow sat on the front of the wagon, holding the reins of two wolfsteeds, the animals of light stomping their horse hooves on the road. They tossed their wolf heads, as if eager for the coming conflict.

  Light was atop the wagon, his feet in the air as he ducked under the top of his machine. Elven light mages lined up with imbued light orbs, and he sucked them dry, using their magic to finish crafting the machine. The depleted orbs were taken away, making room for elves and a new supply.

  “Ten gold says it doesn’t work,” Shadow said.

  Elenyr smiled. “Make it twenty.”

  “You think his machine will function?” Shadow snorted in disbelief.

  “I will always bet on my sons.”

  Shadow chuckled at that. “But aren’t you betting against me?”

  “Perhaps,” she allowed. “Does that mean you are rescinding?”

  “Twenty gold it is.”

  Her smile turned smug, causing him to frown. “What do you know?”

  “King Dothlore and two of his engineers helped in the design.” She smiled and turned to Rynda, approaching along the battlements.

  “That’s not fair,” he protested.

  “You didn’t ask,” she replied.

  Rynda reached Elenyr and swept a hand to the stirring fiends. “Let them come.”

  “You sound excited,” Shadow said.

  “Why should I not be?” Rynda asked. “This is the greatest battle in the history of our world. I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

  “Me either,” Shadow said.

  Rynda regarded him and then grunted her approval. Then the light pierced the horizon, a sliver of yellow that signaled the charge. The fiends began to paw the ground, a rising snarl filling the landscape. Shadow shivered in excitement as the horde charged—and promptly fell on their faces.