Selen pointed at Kallen. “What are you waiting for? Do something!”
“Sorry, but I can't.” Kallen pulled out a sheet of paper. “It clearly states here in our contract that I'm only supposed to fight Dengel. We'll have to renege if you want me to fight anyone else.”
“Never mind her. I'll—” Dengel's throat closed, his pupils dilated and he collapsed.
The Mental Meeting Room was no longer empty but populated by statues. One was of Aio and others of Oito and Revas. A fourth statue resembled the Dragon's Lair and a fifth, Eric's bridge house. More were shaped like his teammates: Tiza, Nolien, and Basilard or other guild members like Mia and Culmus. Dengel found his tenant standing between statues of Annala and Kasile.
“Giving yourself the home field advantage? It will do you no good.”
“I don't need it to beat you.”
Dengel sneered. “How amusing: the ant thinks it can defeat a dragon.”
“Have you ever been bitten by an ant? It hurts.”
“Enough small talk! Either you renounce this silly challenge or I will extinguish your soul!”
“No. I will defeat you. Then I'll defeat the Esrah duke.”
Dengel fired enough spiritual power to break Eric's soul into tiny pieces and erase him from existence. With both hands anchored to the statues, he weathered the attack. The living mage looked back at the dead one with a smirk. Dengel frowned and fired mana bolts instead. Eric ducked and dodged around every one. All the while, his right hand never left the statue.
“You can't hit me! You can't hit me!”
Dengel growled and charged. Eric yelped and ran away. Two silver-blue strands caught the dead mage's chest as he barreled past the statues. He noticed them, but was distracted by Eric shaking his butt. Enraged, he chased Eric to Aio's statue and didn't notice him tapping it with his right hand. A third silver-blue strand caught on his leg.
From Revas’ statue to Oito’s and then to Eric's team, the dragon chased the ant. Eric touched each one with his right hand and more strands gathered on Dengel. Then the elder landed a blow that sent Eric skidding along the ground. He loomed over Eric with a mana boulder held high.
“This ends now!” Eric grabbed Basilard's leg with his right hand and pulled himself out of the way. He jumped to his feet and ran to his bridge house while Dengel stumbled over the fallen Nolien and Tiza statues and becoming more tangled in the process. He started to untangle himself when—
“The Great Sage is dead!” Eric shouted from the roof of the bridge. “Because he wet his bed!”
Dengel jumped up and shouted, “Silence!”
“Your 'Glorious Patron' told you what to do, and when you didn't, he spanked you.”
Dengel fired a hailstorm of mana bolts that Eric dodged by ducking behind his bridge house and allowing the spheres to pass harmlessly overhead. Dengel jumped over the statue and brought his staff down with deadly force, but he struck only air. Eric was already back at Annala's statue.
The pair crisscrossed the mindscape and every lap multiplied the threads entangling Dengel. Every time he stopped to examine them, Eric taunted him again and his pride overcame his caution. At last, he brought the full force of his power to bare and slammed Eric against the Dragon's Lair, pinning him in place. He allowed just enough free movement for Eric to tremble in fear.
Dengel glowed with spiritual might. “Foolish little boy. You should have known better than to challenge Greater Mage Dengel Tymh the Sage.”
“I don't know what I was thinking.” Eric said. “You're so much more powerful.”
“I would advise you to remember that for your next life . . .” Dengel created a mana blade on the tip of his staff. “But you are not going to have one.” He thrust it into Eric's chest.
Kasile and Siron were surrounded. After the element of surprise wore off the soldiers became hard to kill. They enclosed the teenagers and parried all of their attacks. Siron tried to break their circle and get his back to a wall but they easily thwarted his attempt. The only reason he and Kasile were not yet dead was their restraint. Like the others, they hesitated to seriously harm their country's princess and their lord's son. A big man with a hammer knocked Siron over and a skinny one with a lance struck Kasile in the rib cage with its shaft. Their loyalty didn't preclude simple incapacitation.
The Knight leaped to his feet. Despite full armor, his stamina held steady but the same could not be said of his princess. After the eighth soldier, Kasile's claws wavered and bounced off the ninth. She shut them off and stole a sword from a dead man but the professional soldiers disarmed her easily and Siron had to save her. She dropped behind him and fired mana bolts but even those were useless against her enemy's armor. By now, her breath came in gasps and sweat soaked her gauntlets.
“Your Highness, I will finish them. You may rest now.”
Kasile stood up straight and said, “Whatever happened to 'ladies first'?”
“Your Highness,” Siron said drily, “I doubt whoever created that had battle in mind.”
“My son is right, Princess,” Selen called over the clamor. “Though some women may bear arms the same cannot be said of gently bred ladies such as yourself. Your body is exhausted, that much is obvious, but your spirit is weak as well, isn't it? Those spirit claws take more out of you than you thought, don't they? Surrender and I will switch your cell from the dungeon to your bedroom.”
He ducked a mana bolt. “Come on! Die by the hand of a 'gently bred lady'!”
“NOW!” Eric shouted.
Dengel's arm snapped back. His other arm was pulled forward, his legs sideways and head up. Eric stood triumphant. He lifted his right hand and a thread shimmered. It led from his hand to the statue of the Dragon's Lair, to the mercenaries he'd worked with, to the bridge house he lived in, and to all of his other friends. Dengel was entangled in these threads like a kitten that played with a ball of string. “Come into my parlor said the spider to the fly.”
“I am not aware how you made this without my knowledge, but it does not matter. I will break out in a minute. You have won nothing.”
“A minute is all I need to banish you.”
A seething pool of darkness appeared behind Dengel. He looked over his shoulder and gasped in horror. The darkness grew and expanded into a closed door. Eric pointed his left hand and an ominous click echoed in the void. The door opened into utter nothingness. The creature that struggled within the threads was no legendary mage, but a man terrified of dying; the threads held firm.
Wide-eyed, he shouted, “You can't! You need me! You are nothing without me!”
Eric tightened the web. “I can and I am!” The mage swaggered to his ensnared prey and looked him square in the eye. “For the record: I don't need your knowledge, I don't need your power, I don't need you. Now be gone.”
Eric palm struck Dengel with his left hand while releasing the threads with his right. Dengel fell backwards through the door and out of Eric's mind. Weary but full of satisfaction, Eric closed the door and locked it.
Outside, Siron was tiring and Kasile had reached her limit. The combination of limited training, armor, mana claws, and intense combat was too much for her. One soldier, furious at the death of his friends, finally pushed past the others and attacked with the intent to kill. He shield-bashed Siron aside just long enough for his sword to reach Kasile. It shattered her barrier, pierced her armor, and her scream was heard in the heavens.
More screams followed: Siron when he saw his princess injured, the soldier who stabbed her as he was run through, and finally, Selen when he was stabbed in the back.
“That's strange,” Kallen said. Her crystal impaled his heart and sucked a glowing grey mass into orbit around the central light. “I didn't think he had one . . .” She shrugged. To the remaining soldiers, she shouted, “Hey! Since your lord's dead, doesn't that mean his son is your boss now?” The soldiers paused, then sheathed their swords and backed away.
“Calm down, Loverboy,” Kallen said to the glowin
g Siron. “Help has arrived.” She pointed to the entrance were Tiza and Nolien stood. “Whichever one of you's the healer, you got work to do.” Nolien was at Kasile's side in an instant. The movement jostled a griffin pendant on his neck.
Finally, Kallen turned to Eric, who was just waking up, and said, “You know, it took you long enough. Did the old fossil give you trouble?”
Eric grinned and said, “No, I just got lost in my head. It's a little bigger than I thought.”
Chapter 21 No Longer in Need of Help
A blue jay and a crane flew by the castle and alighted on a ledge to rest. Inside the stained glass, they saw a peculiar sight: three mercenaries, an explorer, a duke, a princess, and a total of ten corpses. Their blood leaked from their armor and ran in the groves of the floor. Above it all, the banners of the noble houses danced peacefully in the breeze.
The duke bared his sword at the explorer. “Whose side are you on?”
“Eric. Explain.”
“No thanks, I know you'll want to gloat.”
“Gloat?” Kallen placed a hand on her chest. “Me? What about my modesty?”
Eric exploded in laughter. It poured out of him and simply wouldn't stop. After all the drama of the last twenty hours, the idea of Kallen having any kind of modesty was just too much.
“Eric's an interesting guy,” Kallen said as he rolled in helpless hysterics.
Siron looked from one to the other. “How does that answer my question?”
“We missed everything!” Tiza shouted. “You're an idiot, Tenderfoot. You said you knew the layout! We missed all the action!”
Kasile smiled wryly. “We could have used a spirited fighter like you.” She coughed and hacked.
Nolien said something foul under his breath and his staff shone brighter than before. “Please don't talk, Your Highness. Save your strength.”
Tiza stared at Kasile; armor and wounds and sword. She was in pain and yet she didn't complain. “You better do a good job, Tenderfoot, ‘cause I'm gonna beat her up later.”
Siron raised his sword. “STOP!” Eric shouted. “That's Tizan for 'I request an honorable duel'!”
Siron spun the sword and returned it to its scabbard. “Then why didn't she say so?”
“'There are two things men will never understand.’” Eric beamed as he quoted his mentor quoting the founder. “‘Chaos and women.’”
“Then you are the one she's chosen?”
It was the king. Up close, he was rather intimidating; head and shoulders tall than Eric, a scar across his forehead and muscles clearly visible under his regal clothing. His expression was stern and his tone accusing. An overprotective father that could have me hanged . . .
Reluctantly, Eric said, “I guess so, Your Majesty.”
The king glowed with non-light. It dove into Eric and spread over his soul and constricted. He screamed silently as it pulled him from his body. His vision blurred.
“That's quite enough.”
Eric fell to the floor in a heap, gasping for breath. Slowly his vision came back into focus, but hallucination sounded more reasonable then what he saw when it did. Tasio the Trickster floated five inches above the blood and polished limestone. His right arm was a golden net and his left flipped the bird to the thing trapped inside: a grey ghost-like cloud.
“Trickster!” the ghost shouted. “You shall not stop this! This will accomplish its mission!”
“Quiet, you!” Tasio scolded. “I didn't search all over this world just to listen to you rant.”
“Tasio, what's going on?” Eric asked. “What is that?”
Tasio's bright smile clicked on. “Oh, hey, Eric! Long time no see!”
Eric scowled. “Tasio, answer my question.”
“Mercenary Watley!” Siron exclaimed. “It is the behavior of mad men to speak with such disrespect to the God of Tricksters!”
Tasio waved away his concern. “Aw, it's all right. Me and Eric go way back.” He turned a mischievous smile on said mercenary. “Don't we?”
“Unfortunately. Now tell me what that thing is!”
“That is precisely what it is: a thing.” Eric's scowl deepened. “It's a bully. No, more accurately, it is a fragment of a bully.”
“This will accomplish its mission!” the bully fragment shouted.
“And a very dull fragment at that,” Tasio said with disdain. His ears drooped and he hovered slightly lower. “It must have lodged itself in there. Poor guy.”
He turned to Kallen. Eric had seen monsters regrowing limbs and a girl pull objects out of thin air, but this was the strangest thing he had ever seen. Kallen was kowtowing.
Tasio patted her on the head. “Ah, Kallen, how's my favorite follower?” An electric current flowed from the green hair and frizzed up his own.
Kallen laughed. She wasn't bowing to show reverence, but to hide the static spell she was chanting. “She is very pleased, milard, for it is doubly pleasing to trick the trickster.”
“That's my girl! Keep up the amazing work.”
Kallen smiled widely. “I will, milard!”
“And now I shall take my leave before this thing kills anyone else. Ta-da!” Both he and the ghost vanished without a trace. Anyone else!?
A heinous smell assaulted Eric's nose: roadkill that had been left in the sun too long. He spun and watched in horror as a body rapidly decomposed. The King of Ataidar had become a reeking chunk of meat. Eric fought the urge to retch.
“The king is dead!” Siron declared. He knelt to Kasile. “Long live the queen!”
Kasile wanted to be queen. Eric knew all the things she planned to do after her coronation; all those agendas. She wanted to be queen but not like this. She was hysterical. Tiza had to hold her down to keep her from reopening her wound. Siron was instantly at her side offering comfort and Eric did what he could with their link. Kallen poked the body with her staff.
“Fascinating . . .All known processes of reanimation have been unable to prevent zombification . . .” She circled the fallen king. “Thus have never been able to deceive with any reliability . . .Perfectly preserved! . . .The theory was correct!”
“What theory would that be!?” Siron demanded. Kallen stopped and stared blankly.
She forgot we were here!
“Oh! The Theory of Organic Reanimation, it's easy.” Kallen returned to her pacing and poking. “If you can restart the OS and keep the meat from spoiling. it will function as it did in life.”
“I'll thank you not to refer to the late king with such disrespect,” Siron said coldly.
Kallen stopped again. “Do you mind if I call your dad a chunk of meat?”
Siron's throat closed. “I . . .I . . .I d . . .” He gulped and covered his eyes.
“I was checking for a heart,” Kallen said casually. “It would explain why he was so pale.”
“If you thought he was evil, then why'd you hire yourself out to him?” Eric asked.
Kallen winked. “A girl's gotta live.”
“Have you ever given a straight answer in your life?”
“The hypothesis would not be entirely inaccurate to explicate, that at some point in the past, I may or may not, have submitted a response that was not entirely and completely curved.”
Suddenly Eric's head hurt. It could been the strain of his duel with Dengel, but it was more likely talking with this twisted girl.
“Okay, then I will explain. Kallen's known about my tenant since the second challenge of the contest.” He blushed at the memory. “Possibly the first. She was waiting for me to toss him out, which is why she snapped this awful thing on my neck.”
Kallen produced the key and unlocked the collar while he continued.
“I assume she planned to betray Duke Esrah from the start and that's why she made a contract stating that she only had to fight Dengel. It would dissolve as soon as I banished him. So she was on our side to begin with, but wanted to make some money.”
Kallen shrugged. “Yeah, that's it, more or less. Hey you! G
irl With The Dirty Hair, are you still looking for a fight?”
At that instant, Tiza was about to bash a soldier on the head. She couldn't care less about a change in “tent government” or playing 20 questions; she wanted a fight. At Kallen's shout, she paused mid-swing and accepted. Well this should be interesting: unfounded confidence vs. endless arrogance.
While Kallen played with her new toy, Siron roused the servants to clean up the failed coup. The king's remains were carried away for royal cremation while the other ten corpses were prepared for the journey to Esrah and their own cremation. Others got to work cleaning the floor; Siron among them.
Kasile was still bawling when Nolien finished mending her wounds. She was a wreck by the time her ladies-in-waiting arrived to take her to her room. They removed her armor, cleaned her up, and wrapped her in a red-gold robe. The warriors were called in only once she had reverted to “polite princess mode.” With the composure expected of a new monarch, Kasile ordered all the remaining henchman of the previous Duke Esrah to await trial in prison, cleared her companions and the Dragon's Lair of all charges and offered a reward to Nolien.
“That's not—”
Tiza elbowed him in the stomach. “A bad idea! You know, Princess Tent Burner, he wouldn't have made it without me.”
“Neither of you would have come without my message,” Kallen said.
Siron rounded on them. “How dare you impose on Her Majesty's generosity!”
“Siron, stand down,” Kasile ordered. “All who helped preserve the honor of the Throne of Ataidar will be rewarded.”
“Excellent!” Kallen said. “If you need me, I'll be in the Royal Archives.” She stood up and walked towards the door. “Enjoying my unlimited access.”
“The Royal Archives!?” Siron screeched. “Only elite scholars are allowed in there!”
A Mage's Power (Journey to Chaos) Page 42