Mageborn 05 The Final Redemption

by Michael G. Manning

  “Where did he find that many sell-swords?” I wondered aloud. My emotions were at a dangerously low point at that time for it had been several days since I had last fed on a human. The casual mention of the death of my aunt and uncle registered within me as a dull ache but nothing more.

  “Many of them are Shaddoth Krys, the servants and lackeys of Mal’goroth,” Karenth informed me. “I am unclear whether Tremont is aware of this, or if he cares one way or the other.”

  I gave his words some thought before asking my next question, “Where is my family now?”

  “Inside the building before you. The Queen is with them,” he replied.

  “The Queen?”

  Karenth smiled slyly, “The people have taken to calling Ariadne the ‘Iron Queen’.”

  That surprised me. My memories of Ariadne were of a sweet girl with a gentle disposition. While she had grown into an intelligent and practical woman, I could hardly see anyone pinning such a name on her. “And she allows this?” I asked.

  “They do not do it in front of her. She still insists on being addressed as a princess, since there has been no coronation,” explained Karenth. “I cannot confirm this personally, but your wife received word from home that Lancaster Castle has been sacked and burned. They were hoping for assistance, or at the very least help from the Prathions. To the best of our knowledge, they have retreated to Castle Cameron.”

  “What about Roland?”

  “No one has seen him since the attack on Lancaster. He is presumed dead,” Karenth answered.

  A variety of feelings passed faintly through me, sorrow, irritation, and a vague sense of anger. For once it seemed an advantage having my emotions muted, but I knew there would be a reckoning the next time they returned to their normal levels.

  “How many of the Knights of Stone are in Albamarl?”

  “Just Egan, Cyhan and Dorian, but Cyhan is unable to fight,” he replied.

  That was my fault, of course. I stepped forward, approaching the front door of what had once been my house, or Mordecai’s house, depending on how you looked at things. It was too confusing for me to keep thinking about it in those terms.

  I knocked, just as any well-mannered stranger should. Now that my questions had been answered, the magic binding me was pushing me forward. It wouldn’t allow for any unnecessary delays.

  I waited for a minute and knocked again, hoping someone would answer. If not I might be forced to destroy the house to get inside. With the power taken from Karenth and an additional portion I had siphoned from the God-Stone, I had no doubt about my ability to do so. Or I could just use a circle. The thought seemed strange for a moment, and yet I wondered why it hadn’t occurred to me first.

  “What do you want?”

  The voice on the other side of the door was deep and masculine. My senses couldn’t penetrate the enchanted door, but my ears easily identified my childhood friend. Dorian was on the other side. “I am here to retrieve the She’Har woman. I need you to let me in.”

  “You aren’t welcome here. I know who you are,” said Dorian.

  “I am Brexus,” I responded, using the name I had given before. I wondered if my daughter had shared what Moira Centyr had told her when we departed last time.

  “You can call yourself whatever the hell you want. I’m not letting you in this house,” said my stalwart friend.

  My mind was racing, but the answers it provided weren’t helpful. “If you don’t open the door soon, I’ll be forced to break it, and there’s no delicate way to do that. Those you are protecting might be injured or killed.”

  “You’re bluffing,” he replied. “Even the Dark Gods have been unable to force their way inside.”

  “Don’t force my hand, Dorian,” I told him, clenching my hands into fists. Simultaneously I was gathering my will, and the words were already on the tip of my tongue. Whether I wanted to or not, I was about to destroy the front of the house, and the effort would probably injure many of those within. Something deep within pulsed, No! Don’t do this! While I agreed with the sentiment, it seemed foreign, as if it had come from someone else. It also held a lot more implicit emotion than I currently had.

  My hands came up to shoulder level, pointing outward, toward the door. They seemed to move of their own volition. Time was up, whether I wanted to wait or not.

  The door opened. Dorian stood aside, one hand on the handle. He wore his full plate armor, but the helm was under his arm. Instead, he wore a scowl on his face, and his eyes were focused so intently that I’m sure if I had been more sensitive at the time, they might have burned holes through me.

  “Mind your manners, Dorian. He isn’t what you think,” said an older woman’s voice from behind him. Elise Thornbear stood behind her son. She looked tired, and for the first time, truly old. Her eyes were red and her skin sagged, where it wasn’t puffy from bruising.

  What had happened to her? thought my mind, but my mouth was more practical. “The truth is complicated, but I am dangerous Dorian. You can’t trust me at this point. Your best option is to let me have what I want and send me on my way.”

  Gareth Gaelyn was still a massive dragon and didn’t bother trying to pass the door, but everyone’s eyes looked curiously at the woman who entered behind me. None of them recognized the Stone Lady now that she was flesh and blood—except for one.

  “Mother?” said my young daughter. “Is that really you?”

  I walked past her without pause, heading for the stone sarcophagus that still remained in the hall between the anteroom and the kitchen. My body was unable to wait, but my magesight was firmly fixed upon Moira Centyr. Her face held a curious expression, as though she might cry but had forgotten how.

  “I told you, little one, I am not really your mother. I am just her shadow,” answered Moira Centyr, but she put her arms around her daughter nonetheless. Her eyes were bright with welling tears.

  My daughter turned her head to look at me over Moira’s shoulder, “Someone else told me that too, but I don’t think either of you really understand. You’re a mother in every way that matters. I’ll claim you if I want.”

  Penny approached them carefully, listening to their words, a look of wonder on her face. “Are you really her?” she asked. A man I didn’t recognize stood behind her.

  Our daughter drew her in with one hand. “It really is her, Momma. This was the Stone Lady.”

  Their tearful reunion would have torn at my heartstrings, if they hadn’t been wrapped in heavy wool. Once again I was grateful for my near lack of emotion. Stretching out my gauntleted hand I spoke a word and lifted the heavy stone box that held Lyralliantha. It probably weighed several thousand pounds, but in my current state it might as well have been a feather. Levitating it seemed as easy as breathing had once been.

  All eyes were on me as I ignored them and proceeded to maneuver Lyra toward the door. Even Matthew had appeared, watching me from the hall. I couldn’t be sure what Elise Thornbear or my daughter might have told them, but his intense gaze made it clear that he thought I was his deceased father. Which I am—sort of.

  No one spoke to me, probably out of fear. It seemed I might complete my mission and escape without any more damaging personal conversations, but one person was too stubborn to be ignored.

  “You think you can just take what you want and leave?” challenged Penny. She had left the others and moved to block my exit.

  Something pulsed within me again, this time more painfully. No, never—I have too much to say. I love you. Forgive me. Again my internal voice seemed strangely out of sync with my own thoughts. “Move. I am not who you think I am,” my voice answered tonelessly.

  She didn’t move. “Elise told me about your letter. She says you’re still in there.”

  The magic binding me was insistent. Lacking any danger or logical impediment, my mind and body were betraying me. I would force my way past her if she didn’t move. “I am Brexus. Your husband is dead. Move or I may be compelled to hurt you.”


  Her warm brown eyes were wet with tears, and her face twisted as she stared at me. “No. You wouldn’t hurt me. Show me your face, and I’ll let you…”

  Too much time had passed. My armored fist came up with lightning speed. My body was moving against my wishes, and I was helpless to stop it. If she wouldn’t move on her own I would strike her from my path.

  Searing pain tore through me, burning along every nerve, as if someone had filled my veins with acid. My eyes were blinded for a second while my chest pounded with a furious pain. No! You will not do this! NO! I heard my voice speaking, but it seemed to come from another place, “Penny, please move quickly. I can’t restrain myself for long. Please, I’m begging you!” The words were tortured, filled with emotion that seemed foreign to me.

  My armored fist trembled in the air before me, scant inches from Penny’s surprised face. It was caught between two opposing forces, and neither of them seemed to belong to me, for the moment I was merely an observer.

  Before the inner turmoil could subside, she moved aside. The universe twisted around me for a moment, and the pain in my body disappeared. With an odd wrenching sensation, I resumed control of my body. My feet began moving forward, and using my magic, I directed the stone sarcophagus ahead of me into the open street.

  What are your instructions? asked Moira Centyr’s voice in my mind.

  Since she had nothing to do with my compulsion, I was free to command her as I wished. I sent my thoughts toward her, You’re free to remain. Help them if you would. When this is over, if I am able, I will free you completely.

  The dragon waited for me, and Karenth stood beside him. “That coffin looks extremely heavy,” noted Gareth. “I won’t be able to carry that more than a mile or two.”

  “You’re staying here,” I informed him. “Do as your conscience demands until I return.”

  “My conscience?”

  I brought out the enchanted stones that would form my flying construct. Lyra and her stone container would easily fit within, and I had enough power to handle the weight. “They are in the middle of a war, and you’re the only wizard who might be willing to help, unless you count that little girl in there.”

  “I am a dragon,” Gareth corrected me, as if the distinction meant something. “And the ‘little girl’ you mention in there, has more power than I ever did.”

  “You’re also an archmage, and you have a hell of a lot more knowledge and experience,” I answered. As I spoke, some part of my mind remained on Penny and the others. I watched them in my magesight, feeling a dull ache that was echoed by a sharper pain that came from some other place within me. Matthew and Moira stood beside their mother and Conall peeked out from behind her. They were all watching me and none of them seemed happy.

  “Why don’t you order me to do what you want done?” asked the dragon. “You still have my aystrylin.”

  I pointed at Karenth, gesturing at the opening of my flying machine, “Get inside. We can talk while we travel.” I followed him in, my body still moving with ruthless efficiency. I couldn’t have paused if I had wanted to. Reaching into my pouch I drew out Gareth’s aystrylin before I sealed the invisible door behind me. I tossed it to him, and then I spoke the words that would close the ‘doorway’. Sound traveled through it just fine though, “I’m tired of giving orders. Do as you will.”

  The dragons jaw snapped open, and he caught the small figurine in his mouth. His tongue tucked it away in one cheek before his mouth closed. With a roar he launched himself skyward, never looking back.

  “It appears you made a miscalculation with the dragon,” observed Karenth as I lifted us slowly.

  I shook my head, “He’ll be back.”

  “You think he’ll help you of his own accord? You’re a fool,” said the Shining God.

  His words registered, but I wasn’t listening. My attention was on the ground below us where a small group of people gathered to watch us ascending. Despite my numbness, I was still sad to leave them. Below were most of the people I had cared about in life. I felt an additional twisting pain in my chest as they grew steadily smaller below us.

  “No. I’ve been a fool up ‘til now, and I still have a lot to learn,” I responded. Before he could comment I asked him a question, “Do you ever hear voices?”

  “What do you mean?” said Karenth.

  I struggled to describe my meaning, “I think everyone has an internal dialogue or commentary of thoughts, but lately mine has been different. Sometimes it feels as though the thoughts in my mind are someone else’s. Add the compulsion that Lyra’s binding has placed on my actions and lately it seems as though I’m sharing this body with two or even three people.”

  Karenth grinned wickedly at me. “I know all too well what compulsions are like. You desire one thing, but your body and even your mind are forced along the path your master has commanded. It gives me no small amount of pleasure to hear that you are suffering as I have.”

  I ignored his obvious glee at my discomfort. “The compulsion, the geas, that part I think I understand at least. I want to do one thing, but my actions and at times even my thoughts, are channeled along the path that will accomplish Lyra’s goal with the least delay. Today something different happened.”

  “Such as?”

  I described my experience of a few minutes past, when Penny had put herself in my way. “At the time I just wanted to get away. I didn’t want to hurt her, but the geas tried to strike her. My fist moved to do just that, but then something stopped it.”

  My companion looked incredulous, “Are you suggesting that you were able to resist the binding?”

  “Not really. It didn’t feel like me. I was just an observer, while something else fought for control of my body. Then I started talking, but it felt strange.”

  “In what way?” he asked.

  “The words sounded like something I might say when my emotions are closer to normal, but I don’t think I was the one talking,” I admitted.

  Karenth’s eyebrows went up. “You’re suggesting that his soul is somehow trying to control or communicate with you? That shouldn’t be possible.”

  “Why not?”

  “The binding around him is similar to the one you put around Celior. I don’t understand the specifics of She’Har spellweavings, but if the function is the same as the enchantment used to create me, then he should be unable to communicate or do anything else. It’s questionable whether he’s even aware at all. His soul is probably asleep, dormant within its cage,” postulated Karenth.

  “But you’re an artificial consciousness,” I countered.

  “So are you,” he rebutted me.

  I nodded, “Right, but Mordecai wasn’t. Don’t you think it’s possible a living soul might be different, that he might find some way to reach out from the place where he is?”

  “It’s more likely that your tortured psyche is beginning to unravel under pressure,” he answered dryly.

  Chapter 26

  We flew for several miles without much conversation. I was having difficulty regaining my inner composure after seeing Penny and the twins. And that was with my capacity for emotion at a fairly low level. The special pain that had emerged within me when I encountered them had vanished, leaving me with a dull ache that was entirely my own. I needed to feed, but I worried that doing so might unleash a storm of guilt and grief within. It was a moot point for now though; the geas wouldn’t let me stop until I had delivered Lyra to her lover.

  “Where are you taking us?” asked Karenth, interrupting my thoughts.

  My mind snapped back into focus as I turned to face him. “I am taking Lyralliantha to her kianthi. You will remain in Lothion. I have several tasks for you.”

  “Then why bring me this far? Couldn’t you have given your instructions before leaving?”

  Karenth was probably the sharpest mind among the four beings we called the Shining Gods. Which is probably what annoyed me about him. “Take my hand,” I commanded, and when he did so, I began channeling
some of the power that I had absorbed from the Iron Heart Chamber and the God-Stone back into him.

  “Why?” he asked, his eyes growing large.

  “Because a weak servant is less useful than a strong one,” I answered. “Once I’ve given you what I think is necessary, I want you to return and see if you can find your siblings. Tell them you escaped from me, that you know the location of the God-Stone. Lure them to me, using whatever additional lies you feel they will fall for.”

  “My siblings…” he said, letting the words trail off.

  I sighed, “Millicenth and Doron.”

  “We aren’t related you know… we were cre…”

  I cut him off, “I know. From a human standpoint, we think of you as siblings, just accept it.”

  “What is your plan?”

  I smiled, “You don’t need that information. Just lure them to the place I tell you. Once I’ve gotten within earshot, they’ll be mine.”

  Karenth frowned. It was obvious he disliked my plan.

  Ignoring his expression I continued, “I also need more information. We didn’t have much time before. How well do you think Ariadne’s resistance is holding up? Will she be able to oust Tremont on her own?”

  “If it were only Tremont, probably. The man’s a fool, but he’s got unusual allies,” replied the subdued god of justice.

  “You told me about the Church supporters and the Shaddoth Krys, are there more?”

  “The supporters of the four churches have been misled. Without me or Celior they were easy to dupe. Even Millicenth and Doron have been reluctant to show themselves for fear of being captured by Mal’goroth. The Shaddoth Krys however, obey only one master,” said Karenth.

  “You’re saying that Tremont is in league with Mal’goroth?”

  “I’m saying that one hand guides them all, and whether he realizes it or not, that hand is not Tremont’s,” answered Karenth.