The Battle Mage (The Age of Oracles Book 3)

by Ben Hale

  From inside the sphere she activated the Requiem, the surface brightening and shimmering like a giant diamond. A murmur arose from the soldiers gathered outside and all eyes fell upon the bright sphere. Then Alydian dived into the magic, searching for the thread of mind magic that permitted the user to fall into a memory.

  She spotted it weaving into the branch above, its path traveling down the wood to the reservoir in the trunk where a memory orb could be socketed. Focused as she was, she severed it with great care and redirected it into the giant soldier. With painstaking effort she threaded the mind magic into the soldier’s skull . . .

  The giant’s eyes snapped open.

  She gasped as her vision shifted, her eyes opening to see the cavern from a great height. Dizzy, she stumbled forward, eliciting cries of alarm from below. She fell to her knees, knocking a half-formed breastplate aside as she struggled to right herself.

  Rebellion forces hastily retreated, giving her space as she struggled to control her new form. She managed to right herself and stand, marveling at the power of her new body. To her surprise her right arm felt stronger, reflecting her enhanced arm.

  She lifted her hand and flexed her fingers. Then she became aware of the soldiers below, their calls excited, their expressions lit with delight. She smiled and twisted, delighted to feel her body’s flexibility. Then she lifted her hand to look at her reflection in the water of her arm.

  “It looks like me,” she exclaimed in surprise.

  The thread of mind magic had linked to her idea of self, reshaping the great golem into a mirror image of herself. Even her hair was long, the water rippling through the strands. She smiled and looked down at the army arrayed around her.

  “Who wants a try?”

  There was a stampede to the sphere and she extricated herself from the great golem’s mind, the water returning to bland features. Then she lowered herself out of the sphere and picked Shalric to go next.

  He too stumbled but righted himself quickly as the water adapted to his shorter stature. His beard drew laughter from his dwarven soldiers, as did his shock of hair flowing down his back. Faster than Alydian, he adapted to the large body and stooped to pick up the armor, placing it about his body, and the embedded charms fused the steel to his aquaflesh.

  He picked up the giant axe he’d painstakingly crafted for himself and gave an experimental twist. His laugh was eager and he picked up a giant shield. Smashing them together, he turned to Alydian.

  “Bring me to war, oracle,” he growled. “And I will bring you victory.”

  The Demon Dwarf snorted. “He’s going to hurt himself.”

  “Let everyone practice,” Alydian said. “I’ll start on the second.”

  “Do you have time to make enough?” Ora asked.

  “I’ll have to,” Alydian said.

  She turned and descended to the reservoir again. This time alone, she began to craft a second giant, using what she’d learned from her first effort. As she finished crafting the arms, she realized she was building them a short distance from her destroyed prison.

  “You never should have caged me, Teriah,” she said.

  She finished the giant and linked it to another Requiem. Deep into the night she worked, forging entity after entity, attaching them to the Requiems. Each time she returned she found more of her companions using the spheres to duel, forcing Astin to designate a separate area of the training hall for the purpose. The floor trembled as the huge soldiers battled, and one of the mages added a muffling charm to keep their duels from being overheard.

  For four days Alydian poured herself into her magic, wearily crafting water entities until she dreamed she was in an endless ocean, the currents dragging her helplessly about. But as much as the giants inspired the others, their existence did not dispel her worry. It would all be for naught if Raiden did not find the source of the plague.

  Each morning she dived into her farsight to examine the day, as much to see Raiden’s progress as to ensure they would not be found. Apparently Teriah had grown tired of waiting around in Herosian and dispatched smaller forces to find Alydian. For now she might believe Alydian had fled to gather allies, but it was only a matter of time until she realized Alydian was hiding in the heart of the Empire.

  As she labored in the well, Astin and Devkin set to training the soldiers. Those who had chosen to follow Alydian were strong-willed and veteran soldiers, and all relished their time using the new magic. When she presented the twenty-fourth to the group she heard the name her friends had given the war machines.

  Paladins.

  “Do you approve?” Devkin asked.

  Alydian nodded and smiled wearily. “It is fitting.”

  Devkin frowned. “You need to get some rest.”

  “There are forty Requiems and I have many Paladins to complete.”

  “We can’t afford to lose you,” he replied.

  “It is not so different from my cell,” Alydian said, her thoughts turning to her time in the anti-magic sphere. “I spent each day in training, and magic became akin to breathing.”

  “Breathing won’t kill you,” he replied. “Using too much magic will leave you magesick.”

  Alydian wanted to argue but on the last crafting she’d sensed a touch of nausea. To ignore it would be foolish, and so she acquiesced with a nod. Turning away, she made her way into the tower in the midst of the Requiems. Ascending to the officer barracks, she collapsed onto a bed and slept.

  Mercifully her dreams of water were absent, and she woke mostly refreshed. She yawned and sat up, and then noticed the tray of food on her bedside table. The fruit and bread could have been brought by anyone, but the glass of mint water revealed it had been Devkin. Only he would have known her favorite drink.

  She smiled as she ate, grateful for the time to enjoy the meal. It was likely the last moment of respite she would have before the end of the war, and she relished the moment for its rarity. Before she could consider it further a distant shout echoed to them, the sound tinged with alarm. Alydian leapt to her feet and sped down to the training hall. As she raced for the courtyard Devkin joined her.

  “The Empire?” he asked.

  Alydian shook her head. “I checked this morning,” she said. “Unless they figured out a way to block my farsight . . .”

  The doubt in her tone drove them to increasing efforts, and they rushed upward, reaching the surface just as General Astin reached them. He skidded to a halt when Alydian and Devkin appeared.

  “Two scouts have been spotted to the west.”

  “Alone?” Devkin asked.

  “It appears so,” Astin said.

  Alydian and Devkin hurried up through the fortress and made their way to the outer wall, reaching the top to join Shalric and Princess Ora. With the sun just beginning to set, the sky had turned shades of orange and yellow, illuminating two figures riding towards Dawnskeep.

  They peered out from a window in one of the citadel turrets, all looking concerned. Alydian dipped into her farsight, but saw no army approaching behind the scouts.

  “If anyone else is hidden,” she said, opening her eyes, “they intend to wait.”

  “They’re not trying to hide,” Devkin said. “I don’t think they’re Empire scouts.”

  Then Alydian noticed something familiar about them and a smile spread on her face. “It’s Toron and Galathon.”

  “The shadowmage?” Devkin asked. “What’s he doing here?”

  They hurried down the steps but remained in the shadows of the fortress wall until Toron reined his mount and dismounted. Dusty and bandaged, the man looked haggard and worn. Galathon looked equally as worn, and it was the first time Alydian had seen him without his reaver.

  “What news?” Ora asked.

  “Elsin,” Galathon said, spitting the word like a curse.

  “She’s dead?” Devkin asked.

  “No,” Toron replied. “Meressa is dead, and Elsin has become an oracle.”

  There were gasps and everyone
turned to Alydian. “Gather yourselves and make your final preparations,” she said. “It appears the final battle is upon us.”

  Chapter 38: Arrival

  Raiden collapsed onto the shore, relieved to feel the soil on his fingers. Jester actually kissed the earth, eliciting a laugh from Red. Winter and the Verinai were equally as relieved, but Marrow pouted.

  “I said I was sorry,” she said.

  “We lost a day because you took us in the wrong direction,” Raiden said, unable to keep the irritation from his voice.

  “She did save our lives with the sharks,” Winter said.

  Raiden snorted but couldn’t deny it. After the underwater citadel imploded the Verinai had managed to get them out of the ruins. They’d sought their ship first but it had been too close to the fortress. Aquaglass shards had shredded the ship and the Red Hand, so they’d left him to his watery grave.

  Marrow had insisted she knew the way back to shore. Leashing a pair of sharks to the sphere, she towed them half a day north until they managed to convince her they were going the wrong way.

  “We need to move,” Raiden said. He absently scratched his neck. The gills had long since faded but the scars itched.

  “Can we eat first?” Marrow asked. “She’s hungry. You won’t like her when she’s hungry.”

  Jester feigned panic. “Get this woman some food now!”

  Even Marrow laughed and Raiden acquiesced. “We eat on the road.”

  They had landed several miles from the destroyed Willowbrook, and took their journey south. Raiden intended on joining Alydian at Herosian, but they passed a knot of travelers fleeing east and Red managed to gain their trust. The revelations were crushing. The rebellion had joined the Empire, and Alydian had disappeared with the vestiges of the Griffin army.

  “We’re too late,” Lorth growled.

  “Not as long as Alydian is alive,” Raiden said.

  “But where did she go?” Winter asked. “She’s in the heart of the Empire with no allies and no refuge.”

  “Perhaps not,” Jester mused. “She would seek to regroup, and there’s one place that Teriah would not expect her to go.”

  Raiden caught what he was insinuating and nodded. “Dawnskeep.”

  “Teriah wouldn’t expect it,” Red agreed.

  “She’s still hungry,” Marrow whined. “Some dwarven fire cheese sounds nice.”

  “We’ll find you some,” Winter said. “Are you certain she would go to Dawnskeep? I’ve seen it, and Alydian left the place in ruins.” She shuddered and looked away. “If it was me, I wouldn’t want to go back.”

  “We’ll soon find out,” he said, and pointed east. “We’re only a few days away.”

  Steering clear of the roads, they hastened their way eastward. Empire patrols were everywhere, forcing them to stay off the roads. Raiden took the usual precautions and made no firm decision, but he checked their back trail constantly, feeling as if the whole might of the Empire snapped at his heels. The tension mounted until they reached Dawnskeep.

  The great fortress had been a beacon of peace for thousands of years, and the sight of the oracle tower on its side sent a chill into Raiden’s blood. As they approached he made out shattered walls and ruined streets, the shockwave of the tower’s fall having decimated the city.

  Jester sucked in his breath. “She shared the tale of her escape, but I couldn’t imagine this.”

  “Those she called family shackled her for a year,” Red said, her tone harsh. “I would have done the same.”

  Lorth pointed to the empty battlements. “We’re being watched.”

  “Who?”

  “I don’t recognize them,” he said. “But they aren’t dressed as Verinai.”

  “If it was the Empire, they wouldn’t be hiding,” Raiden said.

  “She’s ready to be among friends,” Marrow said.

  She looked up from her wedge of dwarven fire cheese, which she’d somehow retrieved during the previous night. Raiden still had no idea how, and upon question Marrow said she didn’t know.

  They passed into the city of Horizon and all fell silent, their eyes on the broken buildings. The ground groaned underfoot, prompting one of the Verinai to suggest they avoid an unstable section. Weaving through fallen inns and homes, they worked their way to the fortress. When they turned the last corner, there was a group ready to offer welcome, with Alydian at their center.

  Raiden’s tension melted away as their eyes met. She smiled, the expression joyful and a trifle shy. The others offered greeting, but his gaze remained fixed on Alydian, and he quickened his pace as they approached.

  “Raiden . . .” she breathed.

  He wrapped his arms about her and pulled her into a kiss. A smattering of laughter came from those present but he held her in his arms, soaking in the sense of relief.

  When they finally parted Marrow crowed in delight. “You two are as adorable as my sharks.”

  “Sharks?” Devkin asked, raising an eyebrow. “I wager there’s a tale to that.”

  “More than one,” Raiden said. “We found the source of the plague.”

  Raiden briefly described their discovery of the underwater fortress, and the ensuing battle with Master Skerl. By the time he was finished hope filled the eyes of the rebellion members.

  “If what you say is true, we can take back our army,” Devkin said.

  “Where’s the runestone?” Astin asked.

  “Verisith,” Raiden replied.

  “We can split our forces,” Alydian said, her eyes gaining a calculating gleam. “I’ll go to Verisith and break the stone.”

  “Not without me,” Raiden said. “Where you go, I go.”

  “I wonder why,” Jester said dryly, eliciting laughter from the group and a flush from Alydian.

  “Our army is already in Herosian,” Devkin said. “We’ll be inside their gates.”

  “You know of the titan charms,” Winter warned. “Men will not be enough.”

  “Then it’s a good thing we have our own war machines,” Alydian said.

  Raiden raised an eyebrow but she merely laughed and caught his hand, leading him into the fortress. Raiden noticed she glanced at the hole in the courtyard but her eyes did not harbor regret. They reached a set of stairs and descended into the fortress. Jester and Red both asked what Alydian had done but she rebuffed their questions with a smile.

  “Better to see it.”

  They reached the bottom of the stairs and Alydian picked her way over a pile of rubble to the entrance of the training hall. The great doors hung askew, one lying on the floor. Raiden’s question died on his lips when he stepped through the opening and saw the army. Arrayed in neat rows, the armored giants stood silent, and Marrow released an audible gasp.

  Each was huge, their heads nearly touching the ceiling. They were fashioned of aquaflesh like Master Skerl’s golems, but they were more humanoid, their bodies slimmer. They may have lacked the bulk of a traditional golem, but their sheer size and musculature exuded power. Plates of burnished steel covered their forms, giving them a rough-hewn look, the armor unfinished and raw.

  “Entity?” Winter asked, awed by the sight.

  “No,” Alydian said, her eyes sparkling.

  “Sentient?” she pressed, and then shook her head. “It’s not possible.”

  Alydian shook her head. “They have no consciousness, and are merely a powerful shell. They’re armor—but they’re very much a weapon.”

  “Then how do they fight?” a Verinai asked.

  A sudden shout rang out, followed by a crash that sent a rumble through the floor. The sounds of combat drew Raiden’s gaze to the side of the chamber, where three Paladins dueled, one throwing the other into the wall, raining dust down on the training hall. Laughter and shouts rang out when he tossed the second to the floor, the hall trembling anew. The victor stood over the vanquished, a smile on his liquid features.

  “Is that Toron?” Jester asked, his eyes going wide.

  “He arrive
d a few days ago,” Alydian replied. “He actually adapted to a Paladin better than anyone except Devkin.”

  “Paladin?” Red asked. “I don’t understand. How is Toron using that thing?”

  Alydian motioned to the great soldiers towering over them. “Few know this, but the Runeguard trained in Requiems, spheres enchanted so a soldier could place their consciousness into a memory.”

  Devkin nodded. “It allowed us to train in a situation where we could not be harmed but felt real.”

  Lorth snorted. “That explains why the oracle’s protectors were so formidable.”

  “It does not explain how the Paladins function without a mind,” Winter said.

  Alydian smiled. “It doesn’t need a mind. It uses yours.” She pointed to the glittering spheres hanging from the trees at the center of the training hall. As she spoke Toron was lowered from the sphere by a branch and placed on the ground. Raiden’s eyes flew to the Paladin that had been Toron, and watched the features morph to bland.

  “You linked the Requiems to the Paladins?” he asked, his voice astonished.

  “I did,” Alydian said. “The Requiems are built to latch onto your mind and make it real. I merely transferred the thread of magic to a Paladin.”

  “The soldier becomes the Paladin?” Lorth asked, his voice laced with excitement. “But can it use our magics?”

  “Unfortunately not,” Alydian said, and then glanced at his knots. “But your body magic will enhance the magic of the Requiem, and the Paladin will respond in kind.”

  Lorth veritably clapped in delight. “So I can make it stronger?”

  “You can,” Toron said, striding to greet them.

  He nodded to Raiden, Jester, and Red, but stepped to Marrow, who was staring at the Paladin in rapt attention. Then she noticed Toron and squealed in delight, throwing herself at her brother.