Kelos had to hope so, as it was the only option open to them. He and his companions might be the only humans in existence who knew of the true nature of Kerberos, and the threat they all faced from Hel’ss. If he couldn’t win Keldren round, then their future was decided with the end of all things.
“Either way, Emuel,” Kelos said. “I can promise that it will all be over soon.”
KELDREN HAD SET a fire going, the coals banked so high that they threatened to spill onto the hearth and ignite the rug. The heat from the flames offered little comfort, instead intensifying the humidity in the poky little study and making Kelos break into a sweat. Keldren, however, appeared perfectly at ease, even swathed as he was in his velvets and linens, all wrapped about by an ebon cloak. What was it about magic, Kelos wondered, that attracted people with such ostentatious tastes?
“This is all for nothing, you know,” Kelos said, sitting opposite the wizard and fanning himself with a pamphlet on the uses of mountain herbs in divination.
“Sorry?” Keldren said, glancing up from his reading.
“All this,” Kelos said. “All your knowledge will prove to be for naught. In the end the elves will fall along with the dwarves.”
Keldren looked back to the book in his hands and didn’t say anything. He lifted the wine glass from the table beside him and drank, and carefully placed the glass back down again.
“You know the truth of this, don’t you, Keldren? Just as you have calculated the coming of Hel’ss to my own time, you have calculated the destruction that will come to the Old Races.”
“The Old Races? Hah! Is that what you call us? Rather an ignominious phrase to describe the two mightiest empires Twilight will ever see, don’t you think?”
“You are avoiding the subject.”
Again, Keldren’s eyes went back to the book in his hands.
“Keldren!”
“Yes, Kelos. I understand what you are saying. But these, these survive,” Keldren said, gesturing with the book. “My studies will go on to form the foundation of modern magical thinking.”
“But what if I told you you could witness for yourself how important your works become? Just think, you could know the true significance of your legacy to magic. What other master of the sorcerous arts could ever hope to claim such knowledge?”
“Oh, Kelos, bless you. You’re talking in mere fantasies. I must admit that I feared I had pushed you too hard. Besides, I am already fully aware of the significance of my studies. I am, after all, the finest magical thinker of my time. You said so yourself.”
“No, you don’t understand. I said the finest magical thinker of my time. It will be thousands of years before the true significance of your works will be appreciated.”
“But... but the work I am doing here is of vital importance to the elven empire.”
“Really, Keldren? Then why have they buried you so far beneath the city, within these rotten tunnels where your library is constantly at threat from mould and insect infestation? When did the king last directly call on your services?”
“I... I...” Keldren was getting to his feet and it seemed, finally, that the warmth of the room was affecting him, for sweat now beaded his brow. “I am Keldren Dremos Enthrold!” he shouted, throwing his cloak back like some second-rate stage magician.
Kelos waited for a moment before he spoke, allowing the wizard to fully appreciate the impassive expression on his face.
“You will be entirely forgotten by your own generation. Your name will mean nothing until two hundred years before my time, when this, your library, will be discovered far beneath the waters of Freiport bay, still protected by the magical wards that you set in place. It will be the greatest discovery of elven magical texts in the history of the human race, and a whole new branch of elemental magic will be founded on the works that here surround us.
“But you won’t ever get to appreciate that, Keldren, and no one in the elven empire will ever sing your praises. You will have been dead for thousands of years before this discovery; by then, the empires of the elves and the dwarves will be just so much dust.”
Keldren sat back down heavily and took up his wine glass, looked into its contents and then, with a growl, threw the glass into the fireplace. He shot Kelos a glare of such intensity that the mage scrambled to his feet, worried that he had perhaps gone too far.
“You dare speak to me in this way? You, a mere human? Has it escaped you that were it not for the elves, the human race would never have existed? We should have terminated your kind as soon as you dragged yourselves from the sea.”
“Without my kind, all this will have been for nothing. My race continues the work that you began and if you kill me, Keldren, you will never see the fruits of your studies.”
Keldren glowered, then sighed. “You’re right, of course. They don’t value me, you know. If they did I would at least be granted a post at one of the academies of magic.”
“In my time, Keldren, an entire university has been established in your name: The Keldren Dremos Enthrold School of Elemental Magic. Scholars come from all over the peninsula to study there.”
“That is wonderful, but I shall never get to see it. Like you say, our empire will crumble into dust.”
“But that’s what I’m trying to tell you! I can show you the future, Keldren. I can show you wonders you could never imagine and, in return, you can aid us in our fight against Hel’ss, using your vast magical knowledge. You may not be able to do anything to prevent the destruction of your own kind, but why not turn your talents to saving our race? A people who continue your good work?”
“And how are you going to make this happen?”
“If I can again perform the spell that brought us all to this time, then I’m certain that I’ll be able to propel us forward into our own era. But I’ll need your help with something first.”
“And that is?”
“I was only able to perform the spell in the first place because I had access to a vast reservoir of raw magic. Now, I understand that in the bay sits an entire fleet of song ships?”
“Yes? And?”
“Each of those song ships is empowered by a magical gem. If we can gain access to a store of such stones, then I will be able to use the power within them to perform the spell once more.”
Keldren laughed and shook his head.
“I don’t understand. What’s so funny?”
“Oh, Kelos. I may be Keldren Dremos Enthrold, but I don’t have access to such stores. If I were to be found in such a restricted part of the docks, I would be arrested on sight. I’m just a lowly mage in a dank basement study; I don’t have the clearance to go wandering around the most jealously-guarded of the empire’s assets.”
Kelos was silent for a moment, staring into the flames of the fireplace. “Then... then I fear we are lost.”
“Come now, Kelos. That’s not the spirit. Is this truly the man who stood up to the great Keldren? What was this vast reservoir of power that enabled the sorcery in the first place?”
“The blood of a dragon.”
“Really? Good grief.”
“See? I told you we were lost.”
“No, no. Not at all. You see, serendipity may well have placed the solution within our grasp. As it would happen, one of my colleagues, living on the borders of the Sardenne Forest, has recently written to me concerning the sighting of a great lizard in the foothills of the World’s Ridge Mountains. Now, let me see.” Keldren sorted through a haphazard pile of papers that sat upon a low desk. “Ah, yes, here we are. ‘I, with my own eyes, saw a flash of scaled flesh, the swish of a vicious barbed tail, and heard the beast’s roar; a sound which chilled me to the core.’ Hah! Yes, Alymere always had a sense of the melodramatic.
“Anyway, if this does indeed turn out to be a true sighting of a dragon, then it sounds like a trip to the World’s Ridge may be just what we require.”
“I don’t know, Keldren. It’s an awfully long way.”
“Clearly, then, you
are not as well-read as you claim.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“The Zephyros Translocation. Volume Two, page one hundred and twenty-four of Elemental Sorcery and Applications of Natural Magery.”
“Yes, yes, of course! How stupid of me. I must admit that I have only attempted that particular spell once. Doesn’t it require the ink of a chasm squid?”
“It does indeed. Good job, then, that I live by the sea. Now, let us plan our journey, and then inform Silus and Emuel of the good news.”
As Keldren unrolled a map, a skein of dust detached itself from the ceiling and a coal shifted in the fireplace, rolling out onto the hearth.
But only when the door of the study flew off its hinges did the two mages finally look round.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
SILUS HAD BEEN on the verge of sleep when the floor of his cell collapsed, spilling him into the passage below. His fall was cushioned by the short, stocky man on whom he’d landed, and who swore profusely as he extracted himself from beneath him.
“Gods below!” the dwarf said. “Where did you come from?”
Silus pointed to the hole above them.
“See, Orlok?” a female dwarf said, emerging from the darkness. “I told you that wasn’t solid rock. Surely any fool could see that?”
“So suddenly you’d like to lead this mission, is that it, Greta?”
Beyond the bickering couple, Silus could see more dwarves crowding the tunnel – all heavily armed and armoured – and amongst them several frightened human faces. His heart surged with joy when he saw Katya and Zac within the huddle, and he pushed his way past Orlok and Greta to gather them up in his arms.
“I thought you were lost forever. I thought I’d never see you again.”
“Daddy!” Zac cried, throwing his arms around his father’s neck.
Dunsany, Illiun, Shalim and Bestion were also with the dwarves; all looked on the verge of exhaustion and all were covered head to toe in rock dust.
Behind Silus, the arguing stopped as Greta and Orlok became aware of the emotional reunion.
“Yes, human,” Orlok said. “We have liberated your kind. And now the streets above us will run with the blood of the elves.”
Silus tried to hide his smile as, behind Orlok, Greta rolled her eyes.
“If it’s elves you’re looking to kill,” he said, “there’s one not very far from here. Above us are another two humans requiring liberation from the tyranny of an elf mage.”
“We’ll chop him into offal!” shouted someone from further down the tunnel.
“Our axes will drink his blood!”
Weapons were struck against shields in a quickening tempo as the lust for battle overtook the dwarves. The noise was deafening, and it took Orlok some time to calm his troops.
“You’ll show us the way?” he said, once order had been restored.
Silus held out his hand. “If you can supply me with a weapon, I’ll lead you to him myself.”
“Silus, are you sure about this?” Katya said.
“You may want to arm yourself, too. Zac, stay well back, do you understand?”
The little boy nodded solemnly.
“Above us, you say?” Orlok said.
The dwarf secured his axe and put his hands to the wall of the tunnel. He looked back at Greta and smiled before closing his eyes. Beneath Orlok’s hands the stone began to trickle and flow, yet even as it began to pool around his feet, the dwarf was imposing his will on the rock. It rose from the floor like a fat grey snake, seeking the lip of the hole above them. Finding it, it flowed across the cell, until a smooth ramp rose from the tunnel floor. The stone groaned as it solidified and Orlok stepped back, surveying his handiwork.
“Not bad,” he said. “Not bad at all. Silus, after you.”
Now armed with a shortsword, Silus found the door of the cell to be little impediment to their progress. The wood splintered after two powerful blows and the lock fell to the floor. Looking behind him, he saw that the whole contingent of Orlok’s troops were at his heels.
“Orlok, don’t you think that with so many people we may lose the element of surprise?”
“You’re right of course, human. The first ten, with me. The rest of you stay back.”
“Thank you, Orlok. And, please, don’t refer to me as ‘human.’ My name is Silus.”
Silus edged into the corridor. The passage was short and contained only three doors; the one through which they had come, one leading to the room with the ruined water tank, and a door at the far end that he presumed led to Keldren’s quarters.
Silus pointed to this last door and signalled for Orlok and his team to follow.
“Can you get us past this?” he said, looking at the sturdy door.
“Not a problem,” Orlok said, “though you may want to catch it when it falls, otherwise it’s going to make a hell of a racket.”
With a gesture from the dwarf, the stone surround liquefied, the hinges fell off the door and Silus braced himself.
As solid as the door looked, he hadn’t expected it to be quite so heavy. Silus took its weight against his outstretched hands, only to find his arms being shoved painfully back against his chest and his boots skidding across the flagstones.
“Someone?” he said, from beneath the iron-banded wood. “A little help?”
Katya and Orlok came to his assistance, and they managed to lean the door against the wall.
“You know,” Orlok said, stepping back and looking at the empty doorframe, “this place may have been built by the elves, but I know a good lintel when I see one. That’s a nice lintel. Look at that, that’s flush, that is. Nicely carved, nicely placed.”
“Orlok?” Greta said.
“Yes, my love?”
“Are you done?”
“Yes, my love.”
Although the corridor beyond contained many more doors, Silus knew the one to pick right away, by dint of it being the only one with light coming from beneath it, and by the stench of incense wafting from the room beyond. This time, Silus didn’t ask for Orlok’s help. Instead, he aimed a swift kick just below the handle. This door appeared to have been less well crafted than the last, as it fell off its hinges after just one blow.
In the book-lined study, Keldren and Kelos looked up from the map they had been perusing.
When he saw the elf, Orlok thrust himself into the room with a growl. He drew his axe and slammed the handle of the weapon hard against the floor. They all staggered as the room leaped beneath their feet. Arms of stone thrust themselves through the floor and wrapped themselves about Keldren’s torso.
His hands trapped his hands against his sides, the mage was still able to cast a spell, thin ochre tendrils snaking from his mouth with each word he spoke.
Orlok shielded himself behind the double blade of his axe. The runics inscribed in the metal deflected the sorcery, only for the tendrils to snake around the dwarf and alight on two of his men. They burst into flame, quickly filling the room with an acrid, choking smoke.
Keldren spoke again and, with a rush of cool wind, the smoke dissipated.
Silus was pushed aside by Greta as she launched herself at the wizard, screaming at the top of her lungs and wielding twin blades. With a gesture, Kelos summoned a wall of flickering green energy between Greta and the elf and she slammed into it with a sickening crunch before falling at Silus’s feet, unconscious.
“This will not end in more bloodshed!” Kelos shouted.
“That man is not your friend, Kelos,” Silus said. “For what he has done, for what the elves have done to us all, they deserve to die!”
“Not this one, Silus.”
“Oh, yeah?” Orlok growled, “and why’s that?”
“He has renounced the empire and has promised to help us return home.”
“Not good enough. Now, you can’t hold up that barrier forever, human, and my men and I can be very patient when we want to be.”
“What if I gave you a map of the palace?�
� Keldren said. “I can tell you the likely locations of all the senior ministers, and even show you the secret passages to the throne room. Behind me are hundreds of maps, detailing every level of the city, both public and hidden. If you let me go, I can give you all the intelligence you’ll need to take this city down before my people know what hit them.”
“Silus,” Kelos said. “You trust me, don’t you? Keldren is our only hope of getting home. And we must get home, my friend, for something truly terrible is coming to Twilight. And I’m coming to believe that, with the power within you, you may be one of the few people who have a chance of stopping it. The Final Faith is wrong about Kerberos; He isn’t the one true god. There’s one other – Hel’ss – and it means to decimate our world. We have to get back and warn Makennon.”
After studying the mage’s face for a moment, Silus nodded and turned to Orlok.
“I say trust them. Let Keldren go.”
“He is an elf!”
“And you are a thick-headed dwarf. Listen to me, you can kill as many elves as you like, but not this one.”
Greta got groggily to her feet and was about to launch herself once more at Keldren when Orlok gripped her shoulder.
“Change of plan, Greta.”
“Please tell me I’m going to like this.”
“Keldren here is turning rat on his own people. Aren’t you?”
For a moment the arrogance and hatred remained on Keldren’s face and he looked about to speak the words of another spell, but Kelos silenced him with a gesture.
“Remember what I have promised to show you, Keldren? Do you want to toil down here with no recognition from your peers for the rest of your life? Or do you want to know the truth of your legacy?”
Keldren closed his mouth.
“Thank you,” Kelos said. “Gentlemen, I believe we have an accord. Now, how about you shake on it?”
Twilight of Kerberos: Wrath of Kerberos Page 20