by Wil Ogden
“I can help now,” Kehet said. He stepped back and changed into a Unicorn then leapt from the balcony.
“Wait!” Beldithe cried. Kehet felt a tug on his tail as he fell toward the ground. Suddenly the ground was much closer. He landed hard just a step away from Estephan. Beldithe lay on the ground behind him. “Gravity is unforgiving,” she moaned as she crawled to her feet. “Being able to move between worlds means I can use the same methods for somewhat shorter trips.”
Kehet nudged Beldithe’s shoulder to show his thanks and then rushed to Estephan. He touched his horn to the prince’s wounds. The bones slid back into place and then the flesh closed. The prince, however, did not awaken. He touched his horn again to the prince’s skin, but Estephan did not stir.
Frustrated, Kehet changed back to his human form to ask Beldithe, “Why isn’t this working?”
“You can mend flesh and remove fatigue,” Beldithe said. “As a god, you can even mend bone. You cannot make blood. Prince Estephan has lost quite a bit of it, probably so much that consciousness is difficult. He breathes, though.” Kehet noticed the slight movement of Estephan’s chest. “I suspect he will be fine after a few days of rest.”
“Can you heal a bit of a burn?” Marc asked and pointed to his chest.
“I’m sure I can,” Kehet said. “Well, mostly sure, anyway.”
“Wait,” Marc said. “Maybe I’ll want the scar. They say scars are stories.”
“Scars are stories,” Beldithe said. “I usually prefer the pure beauty of unmarred flesh, but there are always exceptions.”
“You’ve got the memory, my goddess,” Marc said. “I would not be averse to giving you another.”
“A tryst is nothing more,” Beldithe said. “I’ll treasure the memory of our night. Adding another would only diminish the one I have.” She stepped over and kissed Marc’s wound. The charred flesh healed instantly into a mottled scar. “You’ve already captured another heart. I shall not interfere again.”
“Who?” Marc asked.
“Is this really the place to talk about affairs of the heart?” Pantros asked. Kehet hadn’t noticed his approach. The thief then said, “Should we go home, maybe?”
Mirica stood by the gate and gestured for them to run.
Beldithe walked toward the gate, unrushed. Marc handed the Abvi Swords to Pantros and picked up Estephan. Kehet picked up the Prince’s sword. It was heavier than his sword, but not as heavy as it looked like it should be.
Demons were standing at the edge of Heather’s destruction, but none stepped closer. The walk to the portal was unhindered. Kehet passed through last. Aven had the portal closed just behind him. Beldithe was already gone when Kehet returned to Mealth. Heather lay on a pile of blankets.
Kehet stepped over, changing to a Unicorn as he did, and touched his horn to Heather’s arm. She awoke with a smile.
Kehet returned to his human form and knelt beside Heather. “You got to push your abilities,” Kehet said. “How do you feel?”
“Exhilarated and scared,” Heather said. “That damage was far more than Blackstone. If I did that here, now, I’d kill just about every Abvi in the whole kingdom. Nothing of this city would be standing.”
“I cannot stay here,” Heather said after Kehet didn’t comment.
“I’ll take you as far away as you like,” Kehet said.
“No,” Heather said. “Your place is here. You have worshippers and friends and kings who rely on you. I’ve learned of places where the magic of this world is weaker, where I cannot channel so much power.”
“Velamore,” Mirica said. “The city is supposed to be bereft of magic of any kind. I’ve heard rumors of there being a tiny bit of magical energy, but it’s a very small amount. Then again, no one goes inside the walls except those that are already there and no one ever comes out.
Velamore was a walled island people talked about like it was forbidden to mention, like ghost stories during harvest season. The island had a port town in a cove but outside the city walls. A few men claimed to have seen inside the walls and described a city run by diabolical mechanisms.
“You can’t go there,” Kehet said.
“I need to go somewhere,” Heather said. “Somewhere with less power to channel would mean I can’t explode. Since I can destroy things farther than I can see, I can’t just trust a place that’s remote.”
“I know a place,” Thomas said in a quiet voice as he knelt beside Kehet. “It’s a place where there is almost no magic. There would be nothing for Heather to channel.”
“Tell me more,” Heather said.
Kehet heard Thomas’ voice over his shoulder and looked back to see Tara and Thomas laughing with Marc and Pantros.
The Thomas beside him nudged his shoulder. “Don’t draw attention; I’m not ready to explain myself to me yet. Anyway, this place is both far and close. Like Demia it’s another world in another universe. The problem with such a place is that Kehet would not be able to enter that world, ever. You could go there, and return someday, but you could only make each journey once.”
“I’ll go,” Heather said.
“But…” Kehet protested.
“Anywhere I cannot destroy a city is a good place for me,” Heather said.
“I can go to Demia”, Kehet said then asked, “Why can I not go to this other world?”
“You are a god here. Gods are intimately connected to the worlds in which they preside. You can go to Demia because it’s a half this world. Demia is half every world,” Thomas said.
“How do you know so much?” Kehet asked. “Who are you if Thomas is over there?”
“I’m him, just a bit older and wiser,” Thomas said. “I’d say I know everything, but every time I do, someone surprises me. Let’s just say I’ve heard all the stories and told most of them.”
“So how do I get to this world?” Heather said.
“With this,” Thomas held up a crystal with a familiar shape. The crystal scintillated from one color to another, passing through the spectrums. “This is a key to anywhere and I am its keeper.”
“We use the same gate we used to get to Demia?” Heather asked then said, “Please tell me I don’t have to go through Demia to get to this other world.”
“Come,” Thomas said. “I have places to be and you, if I recall, are not one for long goodbyes.”
Kehet and Heather walked hand in hand out of the city. The crowds on the streets, still in the throes of celebration, made conversation impossible. When they arrived at the gate, the Abvi standing guard bowed to Kehet and let them pass.
“Goodbye, my love,” Heather said.
Kehet said. He pulled the ring from the middle finger of his left hand. “Take this. Think of me from time to time. I’ll wait for you.”
“Don’t.” Heather reached out and gave his arm a little nudge. “I don’t know when or even if I’ll be back.” She took the ring from his hand, though, then looked at Thomas, “How do I get back here when I’m ready to return?”
“I’ll know when you’re ready,” Thomas said. “The gate will be open for you on that day.” He held out a leather satchel. “This is heavy, but you’ll want to take it with you.”
Heather took the bag and nearly dropped it. “Gods, this must weigh half of what I do,” she said. “This is Pantros’s gold, isn’t it.”
“I’ll pay him back,” Thomas said. He handed Kehet a rolled paper tied in a blue ribbon. “My I.O.U. for Pantros.” Then, to Heather he said, “Don’t worry.” He reached up and set his crystal in the socket and called a name Kehet didn’t catch. The portal shimmered.
Without looking back, Heather stepped through.
Kehet and Thomas stood silently for a moment staring at the gate then Thomas took the crystal out and the portal vanished.
“I hate you a little bit right now,” Kehet said.
“She’ll be happier without the risk of destruction,” Thomas said. “You will find happiness too. I know your future and hers. This is where your pat
hs part.”
“Forever?” Kehet asked.
“There is only so much of a man’s future I am willing to disclose,” Thomas said. “Now, tell me what you are going to do without the ring.”
“The ring was a gift from you,” Kehet said. “From what I can gather about you, I don’t think the ring had any magic. I don’t need it to be who I am.”
“There are all kinds of magic, Kehet. Some are less mystical than others. The ring had no magical energy, but it did give you the focus you needed to believe in the change. Really, it was just something I gave you so you’d have something to give Heather when she left. Your melancholy won’t last as long as you’re thinking it will. Right now, the best thing for you is to go back and enjoy the company of your new friends. Me, I’ve got to put more leagues between me and my younger self. He’s just not ready for prolonged exposure to himself, myself, yet.” He waved and walked off, away from the city.
Kehet shifted and ran back into the city.
§
“No, it was an older Thomas that gave Heather your gold,” Kehet explained again to the young man whose satchel Heather took with her. “He said he’d pay you back. This is between you, Heather and Thomas.”
“I’m penniless,” Pantros said. “Well, mostly penniless. I have to go all the way back to Ignea to fill my purse.”
“I haven’t touched a coin since several days before I realized who I am. Penniless, as a temporary state, is nothing more than an opportunity to find out what resources you really have. As a permanent state, it’s probably a very sad life, but I’m sure you’ll find a pocket to pick if you get desperate,” Kehet said. He handed Pantros the rolled piece of paper. “Thomas left an I.O.U. for you.”
“If I did that kind of thing anymore,” Pantros said. “I had planned on being retired from the life in the shadows. I’m going to build a castle on the edge of a mountain in my Stewardship and relax and enjoy the view.” Pantros then unrolled the paper. He studied it a moment before saying, “This is not a letter of credit; it’s a letter telling me that a couple weeks after we left Ignea, Bouncer and the rest of the staff followed, avoiding a gang-war. They’re walking to Fork, but should be there by the time we get there. James is travelling by sea with several heavy chests. Someone told him where to find all of my stashes. He’ll be in Fork when we arrive as well. It mentions an inn by Westgate I’d have sworn was a boarded-up building.”
“Did I hear you mention a Stewardship?” Estephan asked as he stepped into the conversation. “You think after everything you’ve done you deserve a Stewardship?”
Pantros looked taken aback. Kehet recalled that the boy had stolen part of the crown and from some perspectives it was the boy who brought all kinds of trouble to the world. “But, I already gave you the jewels. I paid for the land,” Pantros said.
Estephan laughed. “We’ve fought side by side, Pantros. That makes us brothers and a brother of a King can be nothing less than a Duke.”
Kehet noticed that Estephan now wore the Crown of Relarch. Allaind must have crowned him while Kehet was off saying goodbye to Heather. Estephan stumbled slightly but Kehet nudged him back into balance.
“My apologies,” Estephan said. “They say I should be in bed, but I had things to do once Allaind insisted on making me accept that I am King of Relarch.”
Pantros said, unsure, “If I’m a Duke, then that makes my land a Duchy?”
“Smart boy,” Estephan said. “Now, if you two would be so kind, could you carry me over to that fountain and sit me next to one of the maidens. It seems I need to start looking for a queen.”
CHAPTER 34: LADY GLACIA
Again, Glacia stood on her balcony overlooking the scar left by the mortal. She felt deep satisfaction that her endeavor had succeeded after so many years of plans and preparations. The thief, the archer, the swordsman and the new King had taken careful manipulations to fulfill her scheme. The Wizard had not been part of the plan. The damage had been a little more than she’d anticipated, but acceptable. Most of the damage was to the King’s Palace and his territories.
She was wondering if he’d even notice when, for the first time in ages she saw him walk out onto one of the many walls. He glanced down at the destruction and turned and walked back. He knew, but she was puzzled by how little he seemed to care. Osris of ages past would have flown into a rage, screaming for punishment of those involved. Not that she was worried no one would be able to trace the events to her. Only one being in Demia knew she had anything to do with it at all.
As if he’d heard her think of him, one of her heralds called out behind her, announcing the arrival of Kirvel. Being seen in public with such a low ranking demon would be suspicious so she stepped into her audience chamber and met him there. She poured herself into her throne and gave a sigh, letting the small demon know she was already bored of his presence.
Kirvel bowed, but not as deep as one of his station should. “Milady, is this where you give me my reward?” he asked. He had nerve, Glacia thought.
She’d had a small sack of iron coins on the floor by her throne, waiting for him. She tossed it to him. He didn’t make much effort to catch it and it bounced off his chest, knocking him back a couple steps.
“Money?” Kirvel asked, though he took the sack from the ground by his feet. “I was expecting territory of my own. Maybe even Murdread’s territories.” Again the nerve of the imp nearly caused Glacia to lose her composure. But it was his brash demeanor that had caught her attention so many years earlier. He was the perfect combination of ballsy, ambitious and unimportant for her to manipulate.
“I give territory to minor lords with little or no ambition,” Glacia said. “If I gave Murdread’s land to you, in a decade or so I’d be doing the same thing to you as I did to Murdread. No, an ambitious little imp like you needs to take their own land.”
“What?” Kirvel asked. “I don’t want to take land. I’m fine with being given a leg up.”
“I’m not taking off your head and sending you back to the spawning pools,” Glacia said. “You could consider that your leg up.”
Glacia waved her hand, opening the portal near Kirvel to the far side of Demia. Though the imp starting saying something in a shocked tone, Glacia didn’t hear the words. She motioned to one of her guards. The large demon was simple but understood his job. He grabbed Kirvel and threw him through. “Good Luck,” she said, then closed the portal. If the ambitious imp did manage to make something of himself, it would be millennia before he or his influence made it around Demia. By then she’d come up with a way to use him again.
EPILOGUE
Though Kehet and Heather’s love was not meant to be, Beldithe’s blessings fell heavily on the other heroes of this tale.
Thomas and Tara complimented each other perfectly and opened the new place in Fork that Thomas had promised. They called it the Inn of the Moonsong.
Pantros, when learning that his tryst with Thomas’s sister was fruitful, invited her to join him as Duchess of Phyreshade, which was the name he gave the castle he was building. She accepted.
Pantros built his castle and a town sprung up around it. While digging out the stone for the castle, a gold vein was discovered. While the lion’s share went to the crown, with his share, he never had to steal again. That’s not to say he didn’t, but he didn’t have to.
Sheillene eventually came understand that she loved more than poking fun at Marc’s size.
More tales of adventure and more tales of love came after, due in no small part to the events of this tome, but those shall wait for another day and another story.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Wil Ogden was destined to be a wastrel but thwarted fate. During his second junior year in high school he discovered he had a muse and a talent for writing. Despite taking almost a decade to complete a bachelor's degree by changing majors eleven times, he managed to grow up. Along the way he worked as a blacksmith, a record store manager, a candy store manager, too many years in food servic
e, a four year stint in the USAF, and finally settled down into Information Technology, which he uses to pay the bills and support his family of himself, his wife, two sons, a daughter, a dog, three cats, three chickens, a snake, a chinchilla and two parakeets.
Some of Wil Ogden's short stories are available in various Bards and Sages Quarterly editions and at Eternal Haunted Summer online.
"The Nightstone" is his second attempt at novel publishing. "Of Maia’s Mist", his first novel, which shares the same world as "The Nightstone" and many of the characters, follows this story by a few decades. It’s not quite a sequel. Expect another novel with a story that occurs after "The Nightstone" but before “Of Maia’s Mist" to be released in the near future.
Other published stories by Wil Ogden pertaining to the Heroes of Mealth:
(chronological order – not order of publication)
Sheillene: Choosing Fate (Novelette)
The Nightstone (Novel)
Of Maia's Mist (Novel)
And more forthcoming…