At the sight of Salu storming towards him, Pradmet backed up, hiding behind his throne. ‘Prithamon!’ he called with urgency, but the red-robed sorcerer stood without action, waiting for the old man to near.
Orrell picked up his sword and followed, with Leopold doing his best to avoid falling over the corpses beneath his feet. There was no way to avoid them.
‘Jessicah!’ the captain called up the stairs. ‘Are you all right? Please tell me they haven’t hurt you!’
‘I am well, David,’ she called back. ‘It is wonderful to be free again.’ She did not appear nearly as worried as one would expect; quite amused in fact.
‘Hold there,’ Prithamon called as Salu closed on them, but the old man kept going, intent on granting Prithamon the same violent ending as his subordinate on the Farstride. ‘Hold, I say, you intolerable man!’ he added, less patience in his voice.
When Salu was only ten steps from them, Prithamon was forced to act, putting this hand around Jessicah’s neck. She scowled, coughing as the sorcerer’s grasp closed around her throat. ‘A step closer and the woman dies.’
Still, Salu did not stop, and it was Captain Orrell who finally halted the magician in his stride.
‘Stop, you fool!’ he said, catching up and grasping Salu by the arm. ‘Are you fast enough to save her?’
Salu stopped, and met the captain’s gaze gravely. ‘No.’
‘Then stand still, for her sake.’
‘You did not save the boy,’ called Prithamon, appeased now that the threat of Salu had subsided. He returned his hands to be clasped in front of him, and Jessicah rubbed at her reddened skin, glowering all the while. ‘It is interesting that you now pause to save this woman. What strange values you place on life. I can fathom no sense in it.’
‘Life?’ old Salu repeated, as if the word was a mystery to him. He looked weary. Wrinkles crept across his skin. His chance to reach Prithamon had passed, and now he was spent, becoming a tired old man again.
‘We did save the boy,’ Leopold shouted towards their hosts. ‘I saved him. Your sorcerer was already cut in two by then. He is alive, safe and well upon our ship.’
‘Ah,’ said Prithamon with interest, his raised voice rasping. ‘So you did save him. I wondered if there was some reason to such madness. I must admit I was baffled.’
‘You have no idea what you are doing! Look at him!’ Leopold pointed to the burning form of Samuel. ‘He is desperately trying to hold on, but any moment those demons are going to win him over, and then we are all dead!’
‘What nonsense, boy,’ the officious Pradmet replied. ‘He is simply trying to frighten us. He only began issuing such fire when we tried to speak some sense to him.’
Leopold was incensed. ‘When you tried to awaken him, I’d wager. Well you woke the demons as well. Let us help him.’
‘It’s true,’ Jessicah admitted. ‘If you don’t do something, it will be as he says. The magician is full of evil.’
Pradmet reached over from his throne and gently stroked a lock of her hair before she could flinch away. ‘If we do as you say,’ he announced, ‘then we will have two magicians to contend with. Considering what one of them has just accomplished, we would be foolish to comply to such a demand.’
‘You may not have any choice,’ Leopold replied curtly. Forcing down his frustration, he continued more calmly. ‘We need to get him back to our ship. He has a casket there that will quench his demons. That is the only thing that can save us now. You must believe me!’
‘You will not be going back to your ship,’ the tall figure of Prithamon said assuredly.
‘Then let us help him,’ Leopold said. ‘With all your magic, you cannot calm that which rages inside of him. Let us bring the casket here. Afterwards, you can talk to him all you like. We will still be your prisoners. Take us as hostages. It does not matter, as long as we can get him in his box.’
‘Do you really think me so foolish?’ Prithamon replied. ‘He did not hesitate to endanger you before and I doubt he will care about any hostages we may hold. Your magician cares not for anyone but himself and I can say the same for you, after you fled and left your companions for dead. Tell him to stop this charade. Demons indeed! Demons are just beasts that can be hunted and slain. I have killed thousands in recent years.’
A loud shattering made them look towards the altar. Samuel was standing upright and facing them, his feet planted upon both sides of the broken slab, cracked down the middle as it was. Mage-fire poured from him fiercely, crackling, and the broken chains around his wrists and ankles turned to slag and fell away as they watched on.
‘It’s too late!’ Leopold exclaimed.
‘Not yet,’ Salu whispered.
‘Can you kill the sorcerer?’
Confusion overcame old Salu. It seemed his addledness was returning. The fight had all been too much for him. He turned from Samuel to look at Prithamon, and then looked to Leopold with the hopelessness of a lost child. ‘Kill him?’
Captain Orrell went to step forward, clenching his sword firmly, but Leopold stopped him. ‘It won’t be that easy, Captain. Don’t throw away your life.’
‘Jessicah!’ Orrell called up the stairs. His hair was wild and set with blood. His armour was broken, hanging from one shoulder strap, and his clothes torn all over. ‘Hold on! We will save you.’
She looked at him with a quizzical expression. ‘Save me? Save me from what? You can’t even save yourselves.’
Leopold noted the hurt in the man’s face. ‘Don’t worry, Captain, she is not feeling herself. We will save her, but we must save Lord Samuel first.’
Samuel stepped unsteadily from the slab and came lumbering towards them. He shambled as if drunken or confused. His footsteps smashed everything flat beneath them, pulverising stone and snapping bone, making a wandering path of ruin across the already disturbing scene of massacre. Cracks ran out from his feet in all directions and pitted the ground wherever it could be seen. Hunks of earth fell, creating deep furrows where the labyrinth of tunnels beneath collapsed.
‘What’s he doing?’ Pradmet’s voice was fraught with worry. ‘Stop him!’
‘This is part of the ruse,’ Prithamon told him. ‘He is of the Circle. Nothing they do can be believed. You remember Cang and his incessant deceptions.’
‘Gods, Prithamon!’ Pradmet leapt from his chair to tug at the sorcerer’s side. ‘What they say is true! Can’t you see it? Forget about capturing him. Kill him!’
‘Shut up, you fool! I will not ruin my greatest prize!’
Pradmet was enraged. His hat towered over Prithamon, but he was barely three quarters of the man’s height himself. He stood as tall as he could. ‘How dare you challenge me?’ he bellowed.
Prithamon was not intimidated in the least. ‘The Koian god slipped through my fingers and the cache in the Temple of Shadows only made up for some of that disappointment. With these two added to my collection, I can put that loss behind me. I shall have domain over the world.’
‘You are mad!’ Pradmet declared. ‘Kill him! Kill him now!’ He had no sooner finished his words than he gave a short squeal. Clutching at his throat his eyes rolled back in his head, and he slumped to the ground in an ugly heap upon himself.
‘And you are useless,’ Prithamon stated calmly. ‘Your death is small compensation for putting up with you. I had been planning something more satisfying, but that will have to do.’ He turned his attention to Samuel, still staggering towards them. ‘Give this up, Magician!’ he called. ‘We do not have to fight! Stop this charade. Let us speak like gentlemen.’ He waited for a response, but Samuel kept coming; slowly, relentless, like one of the walking dead. ‘Ah. Very well. Let us do it your way.’
The sorcerers, waiting in the sidelines, sprang into action, leaping in as if upon wings. Samuel turned his head and a cone of fire erupted from his mouth. Sorcerers darted aside. Three fell to the ground as smouldering corpses.
Wiping the dripping flames from his chin, Samuel followed the sorcerers with
his gaze. They hovered and flew, assailing him with spells from all directions. He replied with magic of his own. One sorcerer fell limp; another folded in half, backwards at the hip; a third hurtled into the wall with a thud and a crackle of bones. All the while, the billowing shroud of fire around Samuel expanded, forming hornlike appendages above him, growing ghostly limbs beside. A burning shape gathered about him.
The Eudan sorcerers continued their attack, yet all it accomplished was to delay his forward movement.
As the sorcerers were steadily whittled away, Prithamon’s confidence waned and his worry increased.
It was Jessicah who sidled up to him. ‘I will stop him for you, sorcerer. I will soothe the beasts in his head and then you can do as you wish with him. In return, I just ask that you give me him.’ She pointed to Leopold. ‘I would accept that token as my prize.’
Captain Orrell followed her gesture to Leopold with disbelief. ‘Leopold. What is she talking about?’
Leopold did his best to allay the man’s concern. ‘Don’t worry, Captain, I can explain later. We need to get out of here alive first.’
‘Very well,’ Prithamon agreed, accepting the woman’s offer. ‘It seems I cannot defeat your magician as he is. Let him wear this—’ He produced a red-and-gold band from his pocket. ‘—and your wish is granted.’
She took it gladly and commenced ceremoniously down the stairs. She passed Captain Orrell, Leopold and Salu without so much as a passing glance.
‘Jessicah. Jessicah!’ the captain beckoned to her, but her attention was on the magician.
‘Samuel!’ she called. ‘Stop it, Samuel!’
On hearing her voice, Samuel’s head snapped towards her. Mirroring his movement in titanic slow motion, the enormous shape around him turned and followed. The magician’s eyes were two brilliant white points of light amidst an orange-red cloud of fire. In his black robes he resembled a rock of coal at the centre of that billowing inferno.
He followed her progress as she neared, holding Prithamon’s bracelet towards him.
‘This is the best way, Samuel. Put it on and your demons will be subdued. We have no other way to calm them. Come, Samuel. You know I am right. Take this and it will all be over. It will end the pain.’
‘Jessicaaaah ...’ The words came shambling from his mouth.
‘Calm yourself, Samuel!’ she called. ‘Do as I say. It will not hurt you.’ With each step nearer to him, his burning aura diminished, retreating before her footsteps. ‘Put this on. It will help you regain control of yourself. It will soothe your savage heart and quell the voices in your head.’
The fire around Samuel died down to almost a simmer as Rei came to a halt before him, in all her sultry glory.
There was no mistaking the way she stood, the way she moved. Jessicah was gone, and the eternal Witch Queen was in control—for how long could not be known.
She and Samuel stood face to face, within arm’s reach of each other. He reached out to take what she offered, dangling from the tip of her finger. He grasped the band and drew it back, studying it closely, not fully understanding—a child with a rainbow in his palm.
There was no mistaking the satisfied smile on Rei’s lips.
‘What will happen?’ Leopold asked, but old Salu could only shake his head in bewilderment.
The old man looked from contented Prithamon to Samuel, rubbing at his face with confusion. ‘I ... I don’t know what to do.’
‘Wear it, Magician,’ Prithamon called down from his perch upon the stairs. ‘This gift must be accepted willingly. Put it on. Only then can we speak as equals.’
‘I cannot allow this,’ Salu said, refocussing his wits. He passed his eyes over the countless corpses, to the streams of blood gathering and running down into the gutters at the foot of each wall, at the trail of mashed flesh behind Samuel. ‘Look at all the horror I have wrought,’ he gasped. Dismayed, he surveying the bloodied courtyard. He looked at his weathered, bloodsoaked hands and as he did he hunched over, completing the transformation into a stooped-over old man once again. His voice was hoarse and weary. ‘Look what I have become. A taker of life. A monster ... a demon ... no—worse than that. I never wanted any part in this world, but I was forced into it. I could have done wonders! I could have born stars!’ He grabbed hold of Leopold fiercely, taking him by surprise. ‘This is not the right way, Leopold! Only by stepping into the void can we rid ourselves of these demons. This struggle cannot continue or it will be the end of us all!’
He had something tight in his hand, one of Prithamon’s bracelets jutting between his fingers.
‘What are you doing?’ Leopold asked him.
His eyes were wide and wild. Once more he grabbed Leopold’s arm and nearly crushed it with his vice-like grip. ‘Leopold, you will be a noble king. I know it!’
He released his hold and snaked the bracelet around his wrist. He closed his pale eyes and something changed within him. A sigh escaped his mouth and his body went slack. He would have fallen, but Leopold and Captain Orrell caught the man as he dropped and carefully laid him upon the steps.
Leopold shook the old man by the shoulders. ‘Salu! What is it?’
‘What has happened?’ Captain Orrell asked, but Leopold did not know.
A low moan issued from Salu’s throat, fading to a trailing gasp.
Prithamon’s attention immediately shifted towards them. ‘Well done, old man. At least you have some sense. I am glad you have decided to join me. I will enjoy your power and add it to my own. Your friend will not be far behind you.’ The sorcerer smiled, but the moment was short-lived as discomfort appeared on his face. ‘What is this?’ He grimaced, then he screamed and bent over at the middle, crying out in pain. He ripped open his blood-red garment to reveal a gleaming device clamped around his waist. He threw his jacket aside, letting it billow lightly to the steps.
Around his middle was an oversized replica of his bracelets—a hinged device of red and gold—and he began shaking at it; the relic was locked tight and would not release. His shouts continued as he fought with it, growing more frantic.
The other sorcerers around the courtyard became stiff as statues. Those still hovering plummeted to the ground. Those standing pitched over, unminding if they landed on their faces and Prithamon’s screams grew louder, more desperate.
Leopold could feel the bracelet on Salu’s arm growing hot, and it was beginning to glow, searing the old man’s skin. He tried to pry it off, but it hissed at the touch, burning his fingers. Across the courtyard, on each Eudan sorcerer’s arm, their bands were doing the same, becoming incandescent rings of steel, smoking and cooking the flesh beneath.
The one in Samuel’s hand was likewise white-hot, but the magician did not seem to mind; his gaze locked firmly on Rei.
The contraption around Prithamon’s belly was also glowing hot, cooking him alive within it.
‘Get it off me!’ he roared in pain, but it was too late.
The band became intensely bright, and Prithamon gave a final ear-piercing shriek, a horrid boiling noise that bubbled in his throat as he fell back, stiff and steaming, his fingers bent into jagged, clutching claws.
Prithamon’s waist band, the bracelets on his sorcerers, the one on Salu’s wrist and the one in Samuel’s grip all turned to dust and blew away with the wind. Salu was left with an ugly welt around his wrist, while Prithamon’s belly was a revolting sight: pink broiled meat, split open and spilling smoking, fleshy innards down the steps.
‘What has happened?’ Rei cried with horror. She stepped away from Samuel and wailed as if in pain.
Captain Orrell ran to her side. ‘Jessicah, what is wrong?’ He checked her for sign of injury.
‘What is wrong?’ she asked, shoving the man away. ‘Get away from me, you clod!’ She looked to Samuel and back to the ruined form of Prithamon in disbelief. ‘What has happened to the bracelets?’ she cried, shaking her fists. She continued to scream as if in a demented rage. ‘How can we subdue him now? I will not be
denied again!’
Captain Orrell was mystified. ‘What is it, Jessicah? What is the matter?’
Leopold left Salu resting gently on the stairs and came down to be with the captain. ‘It is not Jessicah. It is the witch, and she is unhappy that she has lost yet again.’
‘Unhappy?’ she bellowed. ‘I am not unhappy. I am enraged! I am beyond enraged!’
‘Witch?’ Orrell repeated, blinking with confusion. ‘What witch?’
‘No time, Captain,’ Leopold told him. ‘Suffice to know that this woman is not Jessicah. She has Jessicah trapped inside her. This is Rei, the Witch Queen of Cintar.’
The woman was stamping her feet and furious, and Leopold grabbed her firmly by the shoulders to hold her still. She tried to spit in his face, but he saw it coming and shifted his head in time. He shook her violently so that her hair tumbled down in knots across her face.
‘Jessicah!’ he shouted, continuing to shake her. ‘Jessicah, can you hear me?’
The woman gave up struggling and relaxed in his grip. She scowled at him through her golden, matted hair. ‘Damn you, boy.’ Her voice was softly spoken yet full of malice. ‘You have betrayed me and I will not forget it. You could have killed him, but you let the chance slip through your fingers. Have your precious woman back ... for now.’
She had no sooner stopped speaking than she reached up and brushed her hair from her eyes, looking at Leopold with surprise. Leopold released her and stepped back, unsure.
‘What ... what is this place? What has happened?’ she asked.
‘Jessicah?’ the captain asked.
‘I think so,’ Leopold told him. ‘Here. Take her. Hold onto her tightly. Whoever she is, someone should guard her. Don’t let her go. I will see to Samuel and Salu.’
Captain Orrell stepped in and did as he was told, for the woman looked unsteady on her feet and clung to him like an anxious child. The captain looked nearly as bad, mentally and physically exhausted.
It was then that the last remnants of fire around Samuel flew back into him with the noise of rippling paper, and the magician gasped aloud, drawing in a sudden breath. His eyes opened wide with pain or surprise, then he too fell back onto the ground, hitting his head hard on the stones.
The Ancient Ones (The Legacy Trilogy Book 3) Page 39