The Druids' Legacy

by Trenna McMullin

  “You ready now?” Ky’ara asked, setting her pack next to his. He nodded, checking his knife and sword one last time. He looked toward Lauryn, opening his mouth to say something, and then wilted under her glare. Jace held the door and the four of them filed out, leaving Lauryn and Nori to rest and search for answers.

  “Wait!” Lauryn called, catching the door before it could close and grabbing Joran’s sleeve. She threw her arms around him and buried her head in his neck for a moment, then pulled back a little and kissed him fiercely.

  “If you run into my father, wipe that smug look off his face for me,” she whispered harshly. He nodded, reluctantly letting go as she released her grip on him. She walked back into the room, sitting next to Norika and looking at the page of notes Ky’ara had made while they worked on the book earlier. Joran took a deep breath and turned to follow the others. Ky’ara felt a pang of regret, knowing she might very well be leading him to his death.

  Chapter 22: Confrontation

  They followed Jace through the mostly deserted hallways of the palace. Anyone they did encounter was in such a hurry they didn’t stop to ask why a guard was leading three strangers into the heart of the palace. The uniform was enough to keep them away. Ky’ara felt a rush of gratitude for Calistra’s forethought, both for sending Jace back as a spy and for mounting the attack on the city. If she succeeded today, it would be in large part due to those actions.

  Jace stopped suddenly and turned toward them. “The room where your friend was taken is at the end of this hall. I don’t know where they took him after that, but I suspect there is an entrance to the prisons nearby, since they didn’t ask any soldiers to help transport him elsewhere.”

  “Just get me close to where he was,” Joran said confidently, “I’ll be able to find him from there.”

  Jace nodded, looking like he wanted to ask a hundred questions about that statement. Instead he closed his mouth and led them through the door into a large room with some scattered chairs around the outer wall and an ornate carpet in the center of the floor. Joran frowned, walking slowly around the room. He looked at the door leading to the outside. “That’s where you brought him in?”

  Jace nodded, looking anxious. Ky’ara frowned. Why was Jace so invested in this? He seemed far too excited to be merely rescuing a prisoner he hardly knew. She caught Joran’s eye, and he nodded almost imperceptibly. He’d noticed the same thing.

  ‘I don’t sense a threat from him, but keep an eye out, just in case,” he told her silently.

  “Have you found anything?” Ky’ara asked aloud.

  Joran frowned. “He wasn’t taken out of the door we used...So either they took him back out the door he came in…”

  “I don’t think so,” Jace said hastily, “They would have needed guards for that, and I kept my eyes and ears peeled for anything related to prisoner transfer.”

  Joran nodded curtly. “Then he left the room some other way…” He frowned, then bent and flipped the corner of the rug up. His frown gave way to a self-satisfied smirk, and he pulled the rug away to reveal a trap door.

  “It’s locked,” Jace observed, his excitement quickly giving way to frustration.

  Joran rolled his eyes and pulled a set of lockpicks from his pocket, fiddling with the mechanism for a moment and then opening the hatch. Ky’ara peered down the hole. “There’s a ladder, and I see some light at the bottom.”

  “I’ll go first,” Jace volunteered, “If there’s a guard within sight of the bottom, he’s less likely to sound an alarm if he sees my uniform.”

  Joran and Ky’ara exchanged a look. “Ok,” Ky’ara said hesitantly.

  ‘I’ll go next, just in case,’ Joran said.

  Jace started down the ladder. The sound of a door opening startled Joran, Ky’ara, and Sukylar. They looked up. Iregh had just come through the door from the outside. His expression darkened when he saw them and he raised a hand menacingly.

  “Go!” Joran shouted, pushing Ky’ara toward the hole and stepping between her and the enemy mage. Sukylar was just as fast, leaping toward the mage with his swords drawn. He caught Iregh’s blast of magic on his blades and deflected it, drawing an irritated grunt from Iregh. The mage threw up an energy barrier before Sukylar could reach him, his eyes flicking to Ky’ara as she climbed through the trap door. One of Sukylar’s blades passed through the forcefield, stopping only once it reached the place where he gripped the handle. The tip of his blade was mere inches from Iregh’s face.

  The enemy mage raised an eyebrow, studying the sword with the air of someone with much better things to do. “Interesting. Erythaenian steel I presume?” he said, pushing the blade to the side with the flat of his hand and murmuring another spell that tossed Sukylar across the room.

  ‘Are you sure you don’t want me to stay and help?’ Ky’ara asked, as the spell Joran threw at Iregh bounced off his shield.

  ‘You have more important things to do. Find Taren and get to the Destroyer!’ Joran said, throwing up his own shield and using the Sight to see if Iregh was using any tricks this time.

  Ky’ara felt torn. This was what Joran was here for, and yet leaving him alone to fight someone they’d both barely managed to defeat the first time around felt like abandoning him. Descending into the darkness without her Keeper by her side felt equally as wrong.

  ‘Taren is down there, about a hundred yards to your right, I can feel him. Now get out of here so I can focus on giving this shades-cursed magician a taste of his own medicine!’ Joran’s mental voice was accompanied by a magical shove that spurred her down the ladder and slammed the trapdoor with a resounding thud. Ky’ara dropped the last few feet to the stone floor of the passageway, turning to look at Jace’s concerned face.

  “Iregh found us. They’ll catch up when they’ve dealt with him,” Ky’ara said tersely, wishing she could believe her own words.

  Jace nodded, glancing worriedly up at the trap door. “We’d better get going then, in case…” he didn’t finish the thought, but Ky’ara nodded in agreement and moved down the hallway.

  “Joran said he could sense Taren to my right, but I was facing the ladder…” Ky’ara mused, looking to her left. The passageway was not built in straight lines, and seemed to wander mostly in the other direction. She sighed, cursing Iregh’s ill-timed arrival and setting off in the only direction they could go. Jace hurried behind her, peering down every passage they came to, listening intently and doing his best to determine whether anyone was down here with them. Once, he disappeared entirely down a side passage, and Ky’ara didn’t notice until he ran back out of it a few minutes later, out of breath and 20 yards behind her. She stopped, fixing him with a stern look.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Are we sure your friend is in that direction?” Jace said defensively, “We should explore more thoroughly, maybe Joran got it wrong.”

  “Joran didn’t get it wrong,” Ky’ara said, with more confidence than she felt, “And you aren’t looking for Taren, something else is up, and I’d like to know right now.”

  Jace opened his mouth to argue, then closed it and looked down at his feet. He sighed and rubbed a hand nervously over his hair. “I’m hoping to find my brother.”

  Ky’ara blinked, startled. She laid a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. “I really don’t think they would keep him alive this long. Even if he wasn’t killed outright...they’d have no reason to keep him around. I’m sorry.”

  Jace shrugged, seeming resigned. “I know, I just...he was my brother. I have to at least try to find out what actually happened to him.”

  Ky’ara nodded. “Why don’t we split up? You can search through these side passages while I try to go in the direction Joran indicated. If you find Taren, or your brother, try to free them, and meet me back at the ladder. I’ll do the same. If you don’t find anything, keep looking or wait back at the ladder.”

  Jace nodded, looking relieved that she hadn’t yelled at him, or told him he was stupid to hope. Secretly, K
y’ara was somewhat relieved. If she did encounter the Destroyer, she didn’t want to be worried about someone else’s safety. Somehow, she knew that this was something she had to do alone.

  * * * * *

  Lauryn growled in frustration and threw the book across the room.

  “Hey!” Norika yelped, shooting her an irritated look.

  Lauryn sighed, leaning back against the wall and looking up at the ceiling. “Sorry. I just feel like this is totally pointless! We aren’t finding out anything useful in this gobbledygook. There has to be some other way we can help.”

  Norika walked across the room and retrieved the book, grimacing as bending over made her head throb. She sat back on the bench and leafed through the book, looking for the page they’d been working on.

  “I’m not much use for anything at this point. But even I can recognize that if we both ended up here and you happened to find a book written in a language only I can read, there has to be something here that’s important.”

  Lauryn looked over at her and rolled her eyes. “I know, I know. I’m just not the best with words. I’d rather be doing something.”

  Norika looked at her sideways. “You think I don’t feel the same? Believe me, if my head didn’t feel like it was going to split open every time I moved, I’d be out there instead of in here with a book. But it is what it is. Let’s figure it out so you can go help, ok?”

  Lauryn nodded.

  Norika looked down at the book, frowning. “I’m not sure...I don’t think this is quite where we were...but I guess one spot is as good as any.” She studied the passage for a moment, mouthing the words to herself. “There are some words I’m not sure I know…”

  “Just start somewhere, we’ll muddle through it,” Lauryn said impatiently.

  Norika pursed her lips, but otherwise ignored the girl’s attitude.

  “A...something...makes more the strength which might often be gained by separating the buying between many. In many moments strength is gained connected with the number of...something...but one who is...that word again...may go past the strength of fifty who don’t. It can be guessed that with many...of those things...the strength may be increased...another word I don’t know...or the buying lessened to need only life and not death.”

  Lauryn stared at her. “Well that’s not helpful. Something that increases strength? I dunno how that would help her defeat the Destroyer, I don’t think that’s going to be a physical battle.”

  Norika shrugged. “I don’t think it has to be physical strength, the way it’s used in other spots in the book I think it is more like spell strength or magical capacity. Maybe ‘power’ would be a better translation.”

  “Either way, it’s not much use if we don’t know what increases the power. Are you sure you don’t know those words?”

  “I don’t know...this first symbol is similar to a few other characters...the closest I can get is ‘not required’...”

  “Not required? Optional maybe? Or, something you have a choice to do or not, and you choose to do it…what’s the second part of the term?”

  “It has the symbol for death as part of it, and maybe if you say this part over here is taken from the character for ‘person’ it could be something like ‘one who dies’...but there is more to it than just that.

  “One who dies...‘victim’ maybe?” Lauryn suggested. She shuddered, “Necromancy is horrible. Using death to power magic...my skin crawls just thinking about it.

  Norika nodded her agreement. “So, that phrase comes out as ‘chosen victim’? then...maybe he needed a specific victim? Something about them would make a spell more powerful?”

  “Maybe,” Lauryn murmured. She furrowed her brow. Somehow that didn’t quite feel right.

  “It sort of fits with the rest of it,” Nori said, looking down at the book. “A chosen victim increases the strength...I think that’s power...increases the power which might often be gained by separating the buying between many. In most moments (maybe ‘instances’ would be better?) power is gained connected with the number of victims but ‘one who is chosen?’ may go past the strength of fifty who don’t. It can be guessed that with many victims the strength may be increased... a lot, maybe? or the buying lessened to need only life (or maybe that’s ‘energy’) and not death.”

  Lauryn groaned, rubbing her temples. “I feel like it’s just a lot of words still. They get all tangled up in my head.”

  “Maybe it’s not ‘chosen victim’...maybe it’s if the one who dies chooses to die? Although I don’t know where a necromancer would find someone willing to die for their spells.”

  Lauryn perked up. “Willing to die...someone who dies like that isn’t a victim, they are a sacrifice. A willing sacrifice.”

  “What?” Norika said.

  “It’s something I heard Myrnai say once. That word, it’s not ‘chosen,’ it’s ‘willing’.” Lauryn looked at her intently. “Reread it, but substitute ‘willing sacrifice’ and use the word ‘cost’ instead of ‘buying’.”

  Norika read the passage again.

  “That’s it right there,” Lauryn said.

  Norika looked doubtful. “You sure you aren’t just anxious to get out of here?”

  “Ky’ara has been looking for a way to defeat the Destroyer. Even if she can use the power in the crystal, it’s no longer equal to the power of the Darkness, because that’s been increasing.”

  “And you’re going to tell her she can win if she sacrifices herself?” Norika said.

  “I think she may have already figured that part out,” Lauryn said grimly, “After all, Myrnai sacrificed herself to allow Ky’ara safe passage back from death. I bet Ky’ara thinks if she sacrifices herself she can undo the mistake that created the crystal in the first place.”

  Norika looked down at the passage. “But she doesn’t know the last part, does she? ‘With many willing sacrifices the power may be increased immeasurably or the cost lessened to need only energy and not death.’

  “If I can get to her in time, maybe no one has to die,” Lauryn said, feeling the exhilaration of discovery and the weight of responsibility warring for space inside her.

  “Except, wouldn’t knowing you aren’t going to actually die kind of negate the whole ‘willing’ part? It’s not being willing to sacrifice yourself if you know you aren’t actually sacrificing yourself,” Norika asked.

  Lauryn paused, feeling a certain kind of sadness take root in her soul. She turned back from the door, her face troubled. “Maybe...I think the key is to throw your whole self into it, and be willing to take the consequences if you fail.”

  Norika cocked her head to the side, her eyes conveying a depth of understanding even as her tone remained forcibly light. “That’s funny, I thought this was some deep dark magical secret...turns out, it’s just like everything else in life.”

  Lauryn considered this, the sadness inside her settling into a firm resolve. “I guess that’s how we know it’s true," she replied softly. "Be careful. Get some rest.”

  She let the door swing shut behind her and took off down the hallway in search of Joran and the others.

  * * * * *

  Joran gritted his teeth and held the spell against Iregh’s continued blasts. Sukylar stumbled back to his feet after having been tossed into the corner, and dove toward the enemy mage, swords flashing in the light of the explosions. Iregh spared him the slightest glance of annoyance. Joran used the opportunity to fling his dagger toward him, just as Sukylar made contact with the shield around Iregh and was flung back to the ground for what must be the hundredth time. This time he didn’t get up.

  “No!” Joran shouted, hoping Sukylar was just unconscious. Iregh grunted as the dagger sliced his arm, his robes turning red as blood seeped from the wound. He glared at Joran and sent a blast of power at the boy that knocked him from his feet even with the shield he managed to hold. Joran dove behind some rubble that had fallen from the ceiling during the fight, and rolled to his feet, feeling his shield flicker a
nd die as another blast caught the edge of it. He frantically tried to cast another one, but he was too tired to focus properly. He raised his sword and focused hazily on Iregh as the mage walked calmly toward the trap door in the middle of the room.

  Ky’ara was down there. Something inside him recognized this fact and spurred him into action. With energy he didn’t know he still had, Joran ran forward with his sword extended, swiping at the mage’s shield and throwing a chunk of rubble at him simultaneously. The rock made it through the barrier, but skittered harmlessly across the floor as Joran stumbled back and fell to one knee. Iregh raised his hand in front of him, fingers claw like, and muttered words under his breath as Joran felt his windpipe constrict and his feet lift off the floor. He flailed uselessly.

  “You are determined to be quite the little nuisance, aren’t you?” Iregh snarled, holding him there with his magic.

  Spots danced in Joran’s vision. He tried to gather the last of his magic, it trickled agonizingly slow, continually slipping from his grasp as he faded out of consciousness. This was it. All he could do was hope he’d bought Ky’ara enough time.

  * * * * *

  Ky’ara didn’t wait to see which way Jace went. She strode purposefully down the underground corridor, trying to ignore the distant twinges of pain and fear from Joran’s end of the link. She had to focus on finding Taren. The corridor eventually turned left and began to slope downward, almost heading back the way she’d come.

  As she went deeper a sense of unease settled over Ky’ara. Was she even going the right way? What if the Destroyer wasn’t with Taren? She should have searched the palace first. What was she even going to do once she found him? She didn’t know how to defeat the Destroyer. Maybe her death would correct the balance, but what if it just left everyone she loved defenseless against the power the Destroyer held?

  She shook her head in irritation and flicked away the doubts and fears that seemed to clutter her mind like cobwebs of finely spun darkness. The crystal began to glow faintly, and she tucked it back underneath her shirt, feeling the weight of the gloom lift off her as the jewel touched her skin. If anything, this proved that she was on the right track. Clearly the Destroyer was already trying to attack her. Ky’ara set her mouth in a grim line and drew her sword. She didn’t know if it would be helpful, but its weight in her hand was somewhat comforting.