Help me, Zollin. You have to help us.
He frowned. How could he help anyone, he wondered. He was alone in the darkness, lost in the underworld. He couldn’t help anyone, he couldn’t do anything. He frowned, but the voice kept insisting.
Time is running out. You have to help, Zollin. Please.
The voice was familiar, but he was having trouble placing it. Not recognizing the voice was even more worrisome than what the voice was saying. He tried to think but his mind was so sluggish. He tried to concentrate, but the effort was so hard. Then, out of the blue it hit him. Brianna! The voice belonged to Brianna.
The words started to make sense too. He needed to do something to help her. To help all the people he cared about, but he couldn’t remember what it was he needed to do.
“What do you want me to do?” he said, his mouth feeling strange as he formed the words, his own voice sounding strange to his ears.
Help us, Zollin.
“How?” he cried out. “I don’t know how.”
Save us.
“I will,” Zollin said.
In his dream he staggered to his feet. For a moment the world seemed to stretch, even though he couldn’t see anything, he could feel it. It was as if someone had picked up the world and was shaking it.
Then Zollin woke up. He remembered his mission to find and stop Gwendolyn. Fear and self loathing for his own weakness stabbed at his heart until abruptly he realized he was falling. In his panic he released the boiling cauldron that was his magic. He felt the walls racing past him as he fell and he slowed his descent dramatically; the strain made him cry out, his voice echoing off the walls.
The darkness seemed to squeeze him again, trying to beat him down mentally. He felt it trying to ooze back into his mind, but he pushed it out. He was so sick of the darkness that almost without thinking he produced a pure white light. There was no flame, just light, his magic radiating out of him and shone across the walls of the abyss. He looked down, but the depths of the abyss seemed to stretch on endlessly. The strain of levitating himself in his weakened state was starting to make him tremble. He glided over to the wall and found a place where he could support himself. The light, although only shining on the gloom of the dark abyss, made him feel better almost immediately. He wasn’t sure how long he had gone without food but he was suddenly ravenous. Unfortunately, although he still had food in his pack, he wasn’t secure enough on the wall to eat.
Slowly be began to climb down again, but his hands were shaking. He forced his mind to concentrate on the climb, but soon he was slipping. His grip felt so weak. He looked anxiously over both shoulders but there were no more ledges, no places to stop and rest.
Then, without warning, both feet slid out of the tiny crack they were wedged against. His grip held him for a second before he was falling again, only this time he bounced along the wall. He used his magic to push himself away from it, the heat inside him from his magic almost causing physical pain. He knew he had to slow his descent. His light was dimmer than before, but he could still see the walls of the abyss racing past. He used his magic to slow his fall, but he didn’t try to stop it anymore. Holding himself aloft was too much of a strain and it was counter productive to what he wanted to accomplish. He needed to get to the bottom of the giant crack in the earth, and falling was the fastest way to do it.
He slowed his descent whenever he felt his fall was growing too fast, but he knew that stopping himself before he got hurt was going to be difficult. He had grown too physically weak to control his magic. His mind flashed back to the arduous training Kelvich had put him through the winter they spent in the old sorcerer’s cottage in the Northern Highlands. At first Zollin had resented the work, especially when he felt that accomplishing most tasks was simple when he used his magic. But Kelvich had insisted and Zollin had been hungry to know as much about his gift as he could, so he obeyed and eventually the physical work paid off. His magic was strong, but wielding it could take a heavy toll on his physical strength. Now, as he fell, he couldn’t help but wonder if he would have the strength to stop his descent before it killed him.
The end of the fall happened quickly. He was letting his magical senses out, trying to feel the bottom of the cavern floor with his magic before it was too late. But once he felt it, there was so little time to stop his fall that the best he could do was slow it down. He landed, hitting the bottom of the abyss with enough force to break bones. But the floor of the abyss wasn’t stone, at least not what he had felt with his magic. He fell into a thick sludge that gave way beneath him. He lay in the black, tarry substance wondering what had saved him from injury and maybe even death, when the smell hit him. Bat dung, he realized. He was laying in a thick layer of bat dung.
He did a quick check and despite some cuts and bruises from tumbling against the wall, he was unharmed. He struggled to get to his feet, but his boots sank into the guano. His impact had sent the thick sludge flying in all directions, making a crater. He could tell the layer of bat droppings was eight or nine feet deep. He wasn’t sure how he was going to move through the guano, but for the moment he was satisfied to sit and eat. He knew he had to be careful not to eat too much of the stale bread in his pack. It was all the food and water he had. His stomach had shrivelled after days with no food, so it only took a little to fill him up. He felt better almost immediately, even though he knew he would need to eat again soon, but his first priority had to be getting out of the mire he found himself in. And he knew that wouldn’t be easy.
* * *
“Of course I have felt him,” Gwendolyn said to the fiery spirit who paced in front of her. “The wizard can not hide his power from me now.”
“He comes to destroy you,” the demon said. “Are you not frightened?”
“Of what? I drove him away once before and now I’m much more powerful.”
“But the human won’t be bested so easily this time. And your powers are divided.”
“Controlling the army doesn’t tax me. I can squash this wizard like a bug, assuming he can even find me.”
“You are arrogant,” the demon scolded.
“You have made me so,” Gwendolyn said coldly. “Nothing can stop us now. Our power is too great.”
“The old one still lives, but for how long? His power is like a flickering candle. It could be snuffed at any time.”
“Do not concern yourself with my old master,” Gwendolyn said. “He has much more suffering to endure before I shall let him die.”
“And what of the dragons?”
“You worry over much. Your name means Destroyer, but perhaps I should call you the Worrier.”
“Do not mock me, Sorceress!”
“And do not try to frighten me,” Gwendolyn shouted. “I shall swat the wizard down like a mosquito, his power is nothing to me.”
“The great ones fell because they over reached,” the demon warned.
“I am not over reaching. Three of the Five Kingdoms are toppled. My army shall overrun any resistance the last two kingdoms may send against us. Then we shall open the portal permanently and bring all the immortals under our control. We will unleash terror and destruction across the other realms of this world and become gods.”
“I hope you are right,” the demon said, shivering at the thought of so much power.
“I am right,” Gwendolyn said. “No man shall live on this world while I rule.”
Chapter 6
Snow began to fall as they flew over the Green Glen valley. Soft, white flakes drifted down, turning the world white. Brianna couldn’t help but think of how beautiful everything looked. She could feel Wilam shivering behind her. She was cold too, but perhaps his trembling came from grief, or the weight of an entire Kingdom that now sat on his shoulders. His hands gripped her sides in a familiar way, a fact that annoyed her now. She didn’t know what he would expect or how she would respond to his advances. She didn’t want to hurt him and with Zollin gone she had no reason not to marry him, but she couldn’t th
ink of love and tenderness with so much pain in her heart.
They flew through the pass, Selix flying only twenty feet above the road. Part of Brianna wanted the trip to last all day, but before she knew it they were out of the mountains and circling the tiny village of Walheta’s Gate. They could see the cavalry that had arrived with Commander Hausey. He had spread his men out on either side of the village and they were busy setting up shelters and gathering wood for fires. Selix landed gracefully in the wide clearing in front of the town’s feasting hall.
Brianna didn’t move from Selix’s back at first. Wilam, still holding the crown of Yelsia on his head scrambled down. Commander Hausey, along with Quinn and Mansel, came from inside the feasting hall to greet their new king.
“My Lord,” Hausey said bowing.
Quinn and Mansel bowed as well, but they didn’t speak.
“I’ve heard the news about your father,” Hausey said. “I’m sorry.”
“Yes, well, we can mourn him when all this is over.”
“I await your orders sir?” Hausey said.
“For now, we need to gather our forces and determine our strategy.” Wilam's voice was firm. “I would prefer to do that near a large fire.”
“Yes, my lord, this way.”
Hausey led Wilam into the feasting hall.
“Are you coming down?” Quinn asked Brianna.
She wanted to say no, but couldn’t think of a good reason. She nodded and Quinn waited with Mansel.
“Now you can rest, my friend,” Brianna said quietly to Selix.
The dragon growled softly.
“It might be better if the dragons didn’t stay too near the horses,” Mansel said.
“He’s right,” Quinn said. “Will that be a problem?”
“No,” Brianna said. “The dragons prefer solitude. Do not go too far though,” she said to Selix.
She slid off his back and Selix waited until they had moved far enough away that his huge wings couldn’t reach them. He flapped his wings and rose slowly in a swirl of snow.
“We should go inside,” Quinn said. “They may need some rational people to keep the peace.”
The three of them walked into the hall and were immediately met by shouting.
“I’ll not be ordered about like a servant,” King Zorlan snarled.
“He’s the King of Yelsia,” Hausey shouted back. “You’ll show him the respect he deserves.”
“He’s no king,” Zorlan said, his fat lips twisting into a sneer. “I’m the only king in this hall.”
“My father was killed, recently,” Wilam said, his voice low and menacing. “Keep this up and you’ll join him.”
“You’re the king of a fallen kingdom,” Hausey shouted. “If it weren’t for Yelsia you’d be dead by now, or worse.”
“The Kingdom of Falxis will not be subject to Yelsia,” Zorlan roared.
“You’ll be put out in the cold if you don’t honor King Wilam,” Hausey shouted back.
“Enough!” Quinn shouted, louder than everyone. “Enough fighting,” he said more quietly once the hall had settled. “We have a common enemy to deal with first. Then you can fight each other or jump head first in a dung heap for all I care, but Zollin brought this group together and we’ve worked hard to make it a place of cooperation. I’ll not have fighting in this hall.”
“Who are you to speak to me this way?” King Zorlan snapped. “You hold no rank, no title. I am the sovereign ruler of Falxis and you are all in my Kingdom. I will have the final say in this alliance.”
“No you won’t,” Quinn said. “The Walheta mountain range has always been neutral territory, shared by both Falxis and Yelsia. And I may not have a title or rank, but my son is the wizard who has saved both your lives. He is the author of this alliance and although he isn’t here, his purpose was the cooperation of many kingdoms for the common good. In this hall, you are all equal, be you man or dwarf, king or pauper.”
“My men could cut you all to ribbons right now,” Zorlan threatened.
“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Mansel said, drawing his sword as he stepped forward.
Mansel wore no armor or uniform. He wore tall riding boots, thick wool pants and a simple shirt with a padded leather vest over his thick barrel chest. The sword Zollin had transmuted from lumps of raw steel, was long and straight. It had a two-handed grip and a glossy black stone in the cross guard. Together, Mansel and his sword were an imposing sight.
“One man?” Zorlan scoffed.
“Two men,” Brianna said softly coming up between Mansel and Quinn. “One woman, and a pride of dragons.”
A roar shook the ground. It was so loud many of the armored soldiers took unsteady steps backward. King Zorlan couldn't help but cower slightly and even King Wilam looked concerned.
“In this hall there will be peace,” Quinn said. “We must work together if we’re going to defeat the witch’s army.”
“I’ll not be ordered about like a child,” Zorlan said, sounding exactly like a petulant child, his voice cracking just a little bit.
“No, you will be treated with honor,” Quinn assured him, “and given an equal say in all decisions.”
“But he isn’t equal,” Wilam said. “He has less than two hundred soldiers. He brings nothing but strife to this council.”
“That’s not exactly true,” Quinn said. “Don’t you see we need each other? It is true that the Falxis' forces were devastated, but a king must be more than his army. King Zorlan has a wealth of experience, both as a ruler and as someone who has faced our common enemy.”
“The witch bested him once,” Wilam said, taunting.
“And I bested you,” King Zorlan shot back.
“And now we must all work together or die,” Quinn said. “There will be no quarter given this time, not for king or commoner. We must stop the sorceress’ army or there will be no more kingdoms or kings. Everything we have ever known will be lost.”
“He’s right,” Commander Hausey said, speaking to King Wilam, but loud enough that everyone could hear. “We have to work together.”
“I can set my grievances aside until this ordeal is over,” Wilam said.
“Fine,” King Zorlan said.
“Good,” Quinn said. “My king, let me show you to your quarters.”
Quinn led Wilam upstairs.
“You think this is going to work?” Mansel whispered to Brianna.
“It has to,” she said with a sigh. “We have no other choice.”
Brianna was tired and she settled into a corner of the large feasting hall. Quinn and Mansel were busy making adjustments for the dwarves to the tables and one of the renovated guest rooms. Nycoll brought her a mug of cool ale. She sipped it appreciatively. Nycoll sat beside her but didn’t speak. Both women watched as soldiers hurried around the feasting hall. Finally, Brianna broke the silence.
“Is it just me, or does it seem like King Zorlan is up to something?”
“Who knows what kings do,” Nycoll said. “I for one would rather be someplace less important.”
“Me too,” Brianna said. “I never would have dreamed of this when I was younger.”
They sat in silence for a while longer.
“I wish I had something to keep me busy,” Nycoll said. “I’ve organized all the supplies and cleaned. Now I just feel like I’m in the way.”
“Perhaps Mansel should take you into Yelsia. You deserve some peace.”
“No,” Nycoll said firmly. “I won’t take him away from this. I let my discomfort keep him from his place in the world once. He was willing and I know that if I asked him now he would take me away again, but that is not his destiny. I just wish my fate wasn’t to watch the men I love die.”
“Mansel isn’t going to die,” Brianna said. “He’s more capable than any man I’ve seen with a sword.”
“But skill with a sword won’t keep him alive forever,” Nycoll argued. “It only carries him into the heart of the fight.”
“I�
�m sure things will work out,” Brianna said, although she didn’t believe what she was saying.
“My place is to be here for him now. This is his hour. I shall make his life as comfortable as I can and savor every moment with him that I have left.”
Tears stung Brianna’s eyes. She wished she could say the same thing about Zollin, but it was too late. He had left her in pain, feeling betrayed. He had been betrayed, she realized. He had been faithful and she had not. She couldn’t help but think her actions had driven him to his desperate act.
Soon the smells of roasting meat and baking bread wafted from the kitchens. Brianna’s stomach growled in anticipation, but she knew it would be some time before dinner was served. When Nycoll went upstairs to check on Mansel and Quinn, Brianna decided to go for a walk. She felt odd as she paced around the small village that was suddenly bustling with people and horses. The soldiers were scavenging through the remains of the town; some sought timber from the broken down houses and shops, others combed through the destruction looking for anything of value. She felt the eyes of the soldiers on her, but didn’t worry about them. They were free to stare, she thought, although all they would see was a broken young woman wrapped in a thick cloak to keep the snow from soaking her clothes.
The snow storm continued, piling the frosty white flakes over half a foot high upon the ground. Brianna felt the dragons close by, they were gathering on the summit of a nearby mountain. She called out to them and felt a large pride. Selix was there, as were most of the dragons that had come south with Zollin. They were a playful bunch and none seemed to mind hunting or scouting for Brianna. Selix was resting, but the big golden dragon sent her a mental image of the view from the mountain top. She saw Walheta Gate and the sprawling line of soldiers to either side of the village. The rolling foothills spread out beyond the village. Everything was white and peaceful, in direct contrast to her heart which was in constant turmoil.
Five Kingdoms: Book 07 - Wizard Falling Page 4