by Jason Kenyon
And the beams from the mirrors to the Staff of Vortagenses returned to life.
‘Erm, that didn’t stop it?’ Archimegadon asked.
Bartell awoke from his reverie, looking just as surprised. He let out a laugh. ‘Your pathetic resistance is over, Forseld!’ he yelled, unleashing a storm of fire that filled Archimegadon’s vision.
Archimegadon was ready, and did a clumsy magical block like the one Belias had done back at Gale. The fire seemed to pass around him, and he took the opportunity to charge at his enemy, who was momentarily sure that he’d beaten Archimegadon. The Mage for Hire hopped up the steps of the dais and winced as the dark magical energies swirling around Bartell filled his ears with an unbearable vibration.
‘Don’t you ever give up?’ Bartell asked, his eyes alight with rage.
‘Not quite, old chap,’ Archimegadon replied, ducking as Bartell swiped at him clumsily with his sword. ‘That’s not your usual standard.’
‘I’ve been planning this for years!’ Bartell shouted. ‘Why are you being such an infernal pest?’
‘Erm, because you are trying to destroy everything,’ Archimegadon replied, neatly sidestepping another sword strike.
‘You have no reason to care,’ Bartell said. ‘I’ve every reason. Why ruin everything on a whim?’
‘It began as a whim,’ Archimegadon said, dancing neatly away from each of Bartell’s furious sword sweeps. ‘But then you went and made it personal.’
Bartell lowered his sword and stared at Archimegadon. ‘I didn’t expect a man like you to care about saving anyone but yourself.’
‘Ah, but you are planning to kill everyone,’ Archimegadon said. ‘That does include me, remember. And now, let’s…’
Bartell suddenly grinned quite savagely, and Archimegadon felt a swift sharp shock in his back that nearly blacked out his senses completely. He blinked, and when his sight came back he was flat on his stomach, staring down at the purple carpet round the Throne of Mirrors. His entire back was completely numb, and all his senses were screaming that something was terribly, terribly wrong.
‘Oh, what a surprise indeed!’ Bartell said. He was laughing so hard he had nearly lost his breath. ‘Sorry, Forseld, but you really had to see it from my perspective.’ He raised his gaze slightly and beckoned.
Elsim Redrock stepped into Archimegadon’s limited line of sight. In all the confusion, Archimegadon had forgotten to take account of the little clerk, and dark realisation of what had happened gripped his dulling senses. The clerk kneeled next to him and shook the blood on his blade over Archimegadon’s face.
‘Now, don’t you fear little Elsim,’ the clerk said with a giggle.
‘You idiot,’ Archimegadon struggled to say. ‘I saw you… with Belias… you will nev-never… be more than a slave… out of your own choice.’
‘Nothing wrong with picking the winning side, Master Forseld,’ Elsim said. ‘And I don’t know what you’re talking about. Who is Belias?’
‘Enough chatter,’ Bartell said. Archimegadon suspected from Bartell’s expression that he had worked out Elsim’s unwitting connection to the necromancer, which likely meant that Elsim would be amongst the first to fall if Bartell attained godhood as well.
‘Shall I finish the mage?’ Elsim asked.
‘You’re both filth,’ Archimegadon gasped, coughing red specks across the carpet, which showed only faintly against the deep purple.
Bartell smiled and drew his shining blade. He rested the edge on Archimegadon’s neck. ‘Let’s not give you all the pleasure,’ he said to Elsim, before turning his attention to Archimegadon. ‘How ironic, really, that after all this magical business, it ends with just a simple sword.’
‘Oh, no,’ Archimegadon said. He laughed painfully. ‘You see, Lord Bar… Bartell… every plan has… a crack.’
‘That would be sending you to stop me,’ Bartell said, chuckling, and he gave Archimegadon a mocking salute. ‘Either way, farewell, Mage for Hire. I am severing our contract.’
‘It seems,’ Archimegadon said with a cough, ‘that things are refu-refusing… to favour my sense… of the dramatic.’
‘What are you talking about?’ Bartell asked, puzzled and slightly wary.
‘Oh, ignore him, my lord,’ Elsim said. ‘He is buying time. Perhaps he believes his friends will return.’
Bartell snorted. ‘You have no real friends, though, do you, Forseld? And that is the difference between my victory and your defeat. Elsim remained, and your friends ran off.’
‘Your real friends are dead, and the blood of both is on your hands,’ Archimegadon spat back.
Bartell did not look angry or lose his temper this time. For a moment he seemed regretful, and then he simply shrugged. ‘They were only ever liars.’
‘I think there was a time when none of you were,’ Archimegadon said.
And suddenly the vortex of swirling clouds around Bartell seemed to be drawn inside the former hero, though one of the beams of energy seemed to be shaking quite violently.
‘Ah,’ Archimegadon said with a smile.
‘And here we go,’ Bartell said as the aura of dark power filled him. ‘At least as you die, you shall know that you failed. Everything is mine.’
‘A crack, Bartell,’ Archimegadon said, his energy returning slightly as he managed a small grin. ‘You unutterable bastard, you and your minion are buggered now!’
Bartell looked around. The beams looked fine… just… fine…
Or…
The last one was most certainly not. And a slight whine steadily grew louder.
Archimegadon looked up at the mirror he had been standing by before. Light gathered around the crack he had made when he had struck the mirror during the darkness following Bartell’s accidental Kalahd. His last backup, and hopefully Neurion and Obdo had run well out of range of what was about to happen.
The room began to shake.
Elsim looked to Bartell for what to do, afraid to act without a command from his master.
Bartell ignored the clerk and dropped his sword to one side as realisation began to set in. He brought up the Kalahd ring and opened his mouth.
Archimegadon was faster. He threw every ounce of power he had left into one last strike against the tyrant and his henchman. His hands shook and stabbing pains shot through the numbness across his back as he turned over and pointed at Bartell and Elsim.
‘Flamebolt!’ he roared, and it exploded almost immediately as it came into existence right in Bartell’s face, throwing Elsim and Bartell backwards and smashing Archimegadon back through the air in the opposite direction.
For Archimegadon, it was essentially the end. His sight flashed and filled with strange colours, and it seemed as though somebody was turning down the lights. He lay broken across the floor in the middle of the glass, above the swirling vortex, staring vaguely at his nemeses.
Elsim, who had fallen on his backside near the mirror, had dropped his knife, but he had not been directly hit and was slightly less confused than his master. His eyes flicked across the floor and the moment they saw his knife not far from Archimegadon he scrambled towards it, his hand outstretched.
Bartell meanwhile had landed near one of the mirrors, and he struggled to get his balance back as he stumbled against it, looking rather dazed. Once he shook his head sudden rage seemed to take him, and he turned his attention to Archimegadon.
‘Not dead?’ he howled. ‘Then let’s…’
The cracks in the damaged mirror spread like lightning and it shattered.
‘Toodle pip, you ass,’ Archimegadon said.
Bartell remembered his ring again and opened his mouth one last time to utter the word and save himself. It was too late. The energy beams all shot back into their mirrors, which exploded outwards with tremendous force. Bartell, standing with his back to one, was shredded instantly in a cloud of red by thousands of glass shards.
The full force of the blast hit Elsim, and his body flopped lifelessly across the floor as he
landed messily some distance past Archimegadon and skidded to a halt in a crimson spray. His glasses shattered as they landed not far from Archimegadon.
In the middle of the room, the Staff of Vortagenses shook wildly as the unstable energy collected above it, and Archimegadon knew the final explosion was about to go off, ending everything once and for all. He sighed that it had come to this, and only hoped Neurion and Obdo had run far enough so they could tell his tale to all who would listen.
‘Master Archimegadon!’ Neurion’s voice interrupted his mild philosophising, and he cursed profusely.
‘You absolute… asses,’ Archimegadon said, turning to see Neurion and Obdo both there, with Felick lingering not far behind.
‘Not gonna leave you,’ Obdo said with a crooked smile. ‘Well, it was Neurion’s idea.’
‘You idiots, it’s about to explode!’ Archimegadon shouted, in spite of himself. ‘I wanted you to get to safety!’
Don’t be such a fool, Antagules said. The explosion is going to take out most of the mountain. The village should be safe, but not much else. And now, a bit late… rescue!
A bright light flickered in Archimegadon’s eyes, and then the chamber of the Throne of Mirrors seemed to fade away, along with everything else.
Chapter Forty-One: Casting Shadows
‘Oh, wake up, you lazy old man,’ was the next thing Archimegadon heard.
He sat up to find himself lying on some horrible mossy rock in the middle of some pretty empty grasslands. His suspicious eyes followed a rock-strewn valley over to the sight of a tower far in the distance, and then turned to see the looming black shape of the old Mage Academy. They slowly made their way round to see Antagules glowering down at him, flanked by Obdo, Neurion, and, of all people, Felick Broadblade, who looked very awkward indeed.
‘Death would have been better than this awakening,’ Archimegadon said.
‘Don’t be so snide, old man,’ Antagules said. ‘Just because you defeated Lord Bartell, doesn’t mean you get to ignore manners.’
Archimegadon blinked. He had, hadn’t he? Somehow, sort of, by some luck and fortune and any other words he could think of for chance, he’d managed to stop Bartell right on the brink of attaining omnipotence and bringing the foretold age of darkness upon the world. The Clerics’ prophecy and the Light’s grim foretelling had both been wrong, and now, after these awful weeks, he could take a blessed break.
‘You know, for the first time in a while, I think I might be in a good mood,’ Archimegadon said.
‘Just as well,’ Obdo said. ‘Someone needs to be.’
‘Obdo,’ Archimegadon said, feeling shame wash over him. ‘I didn’t want… I didn’t mean for it to happen…’
‘We both told you not to give in to him,’ Obdo said, smiling a little regretfully. ‘Just as well you held off, too, this old witch was damn slow getting us out of there.’
‘I beg your pardon?’ Antagules asked.
‘Joking, ma’am,’ Obdo murmured. ‘We’re all very grateful you got us out of there.’
‘You’d better be,’ Antagules said. ‘I’ve half a mind to teleport you back there.’
‘I didn’t think you knew how to, anyway,’ Archimegadon said.
‘I made a few educated guesses,’ Antagules said, looking shifty. ‘If it hadn’t been that or death, I wouldn’t have even tried. Sen Delarian would have been your man to ask about teleporting, he was a dab hand at it. Wasted genius…’
‘But yeah, Sir Mage,’ Obdo said, yanking the conversation back, ‘there’s nothing to worry about. We knew we were going to be in a tough scrape, and damn, if anyone was going to hold off Bartell from killing us all, it was you.’
‘Erm, I’m not so sure about that, Obdo,’ Archimegadon said.
‘Modesty? From you?’ Obdo asked. ‘Something big must have happened.’
‘Well for a start, I thought I was about to die last thing I remember,’ Archimegadon replied.
‘Thank Neurion for that,’ Antagules said. ‘Though he cheated a bit – his powers are greater here, just as with us mages. I was all for letting you pass away. Would have saved us all a big headache.’
‘Charmed,’ Archimegadon said. ‘Well, Neurion, looks like I owe you a debt as well.’
Neurion’s eyes went wide, and Archimegadon noted that he’d fixed his broken nose, though it appeared to have a slight slant to it now. ‘Master Archimegadon, you are the newest Hero of Valanthas! You defeated Lord Bartell’s plans and stopped him murdering everyone! We all owe you a great debt.’
‘Don’t get carried away, boy,’ Antagules said, rapping him on the head with her knuckles. ‘But you’re right, in some ways. Well done, old man.’
‘Well, erm, thank you,’ Archimegadon said. ‘That was probably the most unpleasant episode of my life.’ He glanced at the Mage Academy. ‘One of them, anyway.’
‘I don’t think any of us enjoyed it much,’ Obdo said, looking at the two remaining fingers on his right hand. ‘But doesn’t it feel good to come out on the other side and know we won?’
‘I suppose it does,’ Archimegadon replied. ‘No crowds like when I stopped Delarian mind you, that’s a shame.’
‘It’s better for your head,’ Antagules said.
‘So what now?’ Archimegadon asked. ‘We’re in magic land, right?’
‘To simplify it excessively, yes,’ Antagules replied.
‘I trust you can actually send us back?’ Archimegadon said.
‘Of course, same way as last time,’ Antagules said. ‘Though I won’t send you back to the spot you teleported from, that would probably be painful. I’ll try to drop you near somewhere nice. Melethas?’
Archimegadon shivered as he thought of the Mage Academy, and his first meeting with the traitorous Valia. ‘No thank you, madam. I shan’t be returning there in a long while, I can assure you of that.’
‘Where, then?’ Antagules asked.
‘I’m sick of the whole damn region,’ Archimegadon replied. ‘Pop me onto the Central Way near Ferrina, if you could.’
‘I’ll see what I can do,’ Antagules said. ‘You others?’
‘I’d better go to Belden, I think it was,’ Obdo replied. ‘My cousin Albarte was running away there.’
‘Verrinion Cathedral for me,’ Neurion said. ‘I want to see if there’s anything left of the order there. I want to become a proper paladin, and help restore what’s left after Bartell killed Grand and the others.’
‘And you, Felick?’ Antagules asked.
The mercenary had been staying very quiet for the whole proceedings, and now looked terrified that someone had spoken to him. ‘Me? Well, uh, I guess dump me in Telanne, it’s a long way from Aldrack. Don’t wanna hang around there any more.’
‘You’re not my favourite,’ Antagules said, ‘but from what I hear, you did a brave thing. Helping stop Bartell saved more people than you may realise. I’m not sure what else you have done in your life, or whether it would absolve them, but it was something.’
‘Right, uh, thanks,’ Felick said. ‘I’m, well… it’d be better if I left. If you could show me the door.’
‘Thank you, Broadblade,’ Archimegadon said. ‘You’ve tried to kill me on several occasions, but you did come through when it mattered.’
‘Like I said, he was gonna kill all of us,’ Felick said. ‘Just saving my own neck, Arkermechadon.’
Antagules led the mercenary away to the portal where she’d sent Archimegadon back from before, leaving Archimegadon, Obdo and Neurion alone.
Neurion shifted.
‘It’s sad,’ he said finally. ‘That we have to part ways.’
‘Not like it’s the end,’ Obdo said. ‘Valanthas isn’t all that big. We can meet up and have a drink sometimes. If I can afford it. Not sure what use I’ll be missing two fingers.’
‘I have a feeling you’ll get on just fine,’ Archimegadon said. ‘There’s never really any stopping you.’
‘Not for long,’ Obdo said, ‘least that�
��s how I try to do things. Besides, I stole all of Belias’s money when you guys weren’t looking.’ He looked regretful. ‘Got used to hanging around you two.’
‘You have your cousins, if you can ever find them,’ Archimegadon said. ‘You’ll forget us in no time.’
‘There’s no forgetting what we just went through,’ Obdo said. ‘No way at all. We’re, like, bonded… or something.’
‘Probably not the word I’d use, though I suppose so,’ Archimegadon said. ‘But we all have our lives to return to. Neurion’s going to train to be a paladin, and, well, I might even try to get proper mage training. Or just head back on the road and scare off wolves for grobs.’
‘So I guess this is where you ended up before?’ Obdo asked. ‘When Belias tried to kill you.’
‘That’s right, yes,’ Archimegadon replied. ‘Where I found out about Vortagenses.’
‘He wasn’t much use,’ Obdo said.
‘We all underestimated Bartell,’ Antagules said suddenly, making them jump. ‘Vortagenses, Delarian, Akarith… each of us misjudged what they’d made him into. It is just as well Archimegadon managed to stop him, or right now I think his reign would not have been a happy one. He held a lot of hate for a man who was so successful.’
‘And smiled a lot for one who held such hatred,’ Neurion said. ‘I did not realise people used it as a mask so much.’
‘So what happens to Bartell’s demon power?’ Archimegadon asked. ‘Now that it’s free of the mirrors?’
‘It’ll just fade away in the air, and return to the natural cycle of magic energy,’ Antagules replied. ‘After exploding like that, I’d imagine it’s mostly burnt out anyway.’