Still, the uncomfortable truth was that they were unlikely to get another shot at this. If they backed away, Halfren or someone else might attempt to capture the divine spark…
“We seem reasonably safe here at the moment,” Jason said. “If we wait until the army advances through the breach, Verrator might deploy some more of his guards from the castle to the streets. We should still take that opportunity to look around while we can.”
“And if we drop in on an army of Imperators?” Sarina asked.
“We know there’s nothing behind us, so we still have a clean escape route. I say it’s worth the risk.” Jason let out a deep breath. “But I’m willing to entertain suggestions.”
“That’s a first,” Tam muttered. He tossed another ball of light farther down the passage and pressed his lips together. “You’re probably right, though. At worst, we should still be able to escape if we need to. Let’s see what Verrator has waiting for us.”
“Agreed,” Sarina said. “Who knows, maybe we’ll get lucky and his own men will have turned on him.”
Jason grunted. The minutes ticked by, and they continued to study the adjacent chambers just in case the Crell had left any traps for them. But they didn’t find anything aside from the occasional footprint and rat carcass, and it wasn’t long before Selvhara confirmed the next stage of the siege.
The Asgardians are pouring into the breach now, she told him. Halfren insisted on joining them, and Captain Farkas sent most of her priests along with them. There aren’t many of us left outside.
Understood, Jason said, glancing up to the others. “The army is on the move. Let’s go.”
Two minutes later, they reached the secret doorway leading into the King’s Bastion. The markings were so well-hidden they were nearly impossible to see even up close; if his father hadn’t reminded him what to look for, Jason would have rushed right past it. But once his fingers slid into the appropriate groove along the wall, it was a trivial matter to find the release switch.
“Be ready,” he warned. “Stay behind my shield as long as you can.”
He pressed the button, then took a step backwards and sheathed himself in an Aetheric barrier. After more than a week studying with Selvhara at sea, his defensive channeling skills had rapidly improved, and at this point he was able to shape and bend the protective ward outwards to cover a larger area. It probably wasn’t as resilient as a paladin’s shield, but he was reasonably certain he could deflect whatever initial barrage the Crell had waiting for them…
But as the door slowly cranked open, he realized he needn’t have bothered. The King’s Bastion was completely empty.
“Okay,” Tam said, the flames in his palms flickering to match his shifting mood. “This isn’t what I expected.”
“Definitely not,” Jason murmured. “Get us some light.”
Tam nodded and flicked a bouncing ball of light into the chamber. Fifteen years ago, the Bastion had effectively been King Whitestone’s permanent “cell.” He had spent virtually all his time down here managing his kingdom through his trusted Hands. But now…now the Bastion looked more like an abandoned dungeon. Cobwebs coated the walls, and the old throne at the center of the chamber clearly hadn’t been used in ages.
“When was the last time someone was in here?” Tam asked.
Sarina crept forward and swept her eyes about the room. “Years, at least. Whoever left those footprints in the passages clearly never came this way.”
“I’m not sure if that’s good or bad. What do you think, Jace?”
Jason released a deep breath and stretched out through the Aether. He couldn’t detect any lingering auras here, but he did sense something above them—a collection of conscious minds, perhaps, or enough enchanted arms and armor to create an Aetheric wake. “I don’t know,” he admitted, “but I think this rules out our trap theory. Maybe those tracks you found were just some random guards fucking around while off duty.”
“Maybe,” Sarina whispered pensively. “Where does that passage lead?”
Jason glanced over to the corridor on the far side of the room. “That’s the real entrance. It leads up into an antechamber close to the old barracks and just a few passages away from the castle throne room.”
“Should we go this way or head back into the tunnel and try another hidden exit?”
“If no one has been in here, I’d say this is still our best bet,” Jason said. “We can take a peek outside and see what we’re up against.”
“Sure, why not,” Tam murmured. “Hopefully the rampaging Asgardians have everyone’s full attention by now.”
Sarina searched the chamber one last time for traps before glancing back over her shoulder at Tam. Nodding in understanding, he opened his left palm and hosed down the ceiling with a cone of flame. The cobwebs ignited instantly, and within seconds the chamber was clear of debris. Catching the cue, Jason stirred up a gust of wind and sucked the smoke back into the tunnels behind them.
“Just in case someone is lingering back there to try and flank us,” he said, smiling. “Follow me.”
He dashed across the chamber and started up the narrow, winding incline on the opposite side. The passage had been designed almost like a spiral staircase but without the stairs, though Jason had never understood why. Regardless, thirty seconds later they reached another door, and he signaled for the others to pause.
“There’s definitely something on the other side,” he said, keeping his voice low. “Can you sense it?”
Tam frowned in concentration. “Barely. I’m not sure what it could be.”
“It might be a powerfully enchanted item…or a particularly potent channeler.”
“You mean like an Ascendant?” Sarina asked.
“Possibly,” Jason said. “I haven’t been around enough of them to know. But whatever it is, it’s probably dangerous. Make sure you stay behind me.”
Her green eyes narrowed at him. “I’m not helpless.”
“I know, but I can’t protect you if—”
“I understand,” Sarina soothed, grabbing his shoulder and smiling tightly. “Just try and give me a clean shot.”
Smiling back, Jason brushed his hand against her cheek. He held her eyes for a long moment, then sucked in a deep breath and spun around. He projected an Aetheric shield out in front of him, then tugged the nearby lever and bit down on his lip as the ancient pulleys slowly cranked the stone slabs apart. He expected a fireball—or at the very least a barrage of crossbow bolts—to strike his shield the instant the door opened. But instead the wide, spacious chamber on the other side appeared almost completely empty. The floors and columns were nicely kept and polished, and he could hear the distant sounds of battle echoing down from windows and doorways elsewhere in the castle. The only object of interest, however, was a wooden altar at the center of the chamber. Sitting atop it, glimmering menacingly in the flickering lantern-light, was a fist-sized purple crystal of indeterminate purpose.
“Galivar’s blood,” Tam breathed from behind Jason’s shoulder. “That must be what we were sensing, but what the hell is it? And where is everyone?”
“I don’t know, but stay back,” Jason warned. Taking another deep breath, he crept forward into the chamber and tightened his barrier around his body. He didn’t see, hear, or sense anyone, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. The energy radiating from the crystal was powerful—not as powerful as Dathiel had been, but something about the aura was disturbingly similar. It wasn’t a Godsoul, per se, but it was almost like he was staring at a fractured piece of an Immortal…
“Welcome to Castle Whitestone, Jason Moore,” a deep voice said. Stepping out from behind one of the chamber’s thick support columns was a man draped in ostentatious regal raiments. He looked young and virile, and his smile was almost pleasant.
Before Jason could reply, however, the air rumbled and a powerful burst of telekinetic energy buffeted against his shield. He dropped to a knee, but Tam and Sarina were knocked back into the passageway
. The door slammed shut in front of them, cutting off Tam’s cry of protest mid-word.
“My mistress is very pleased you finally decided to join us,” Sovereign Verrator said, taking another step forward. “Allow me to be the first to welcome you home.”
***
“Shit!” Tam hissed as the door slammed shut in front of them. He dove over to the release lever, but it refused to budge even with Sarina’s help. “Get back!”
She didn’t need to be told twice. Releasing the lever, she dashed down the spiraling corridor and clamped her hands over her ears. Tam unleashed a fiery barrage at the door, but flames alone were useless against solid rock. He swore viciously, then blasted it with a fireball so hot Sarina had to retreat farther down the corridor. The effect, sadly, was the same.
“You can’t burn through a rock wall!” she yelled up at him. “This place was designed to protect the king, remember?”
“Your bloody arrows aren’t going to work any better!” he growled back before blasting the door again. “I knew this was a terrible idea.”
Gritting her teeth, Sarina rushed back up to the door and grabbed his arm before he could try again. “This is pointless. All we’re going to do is cook ourselves alive.” She gestured back down the corridor. “These passages open up in secret places all over the castle. We should be able to backtrack and come at the Crell from the other side.”
“That will take too long. Jace could be dead by then.”
“Fine, stay here trying to melt through solid rock all you want,” Sarina hissed. “I’m going to find another way around.”
She turned and sprinted down the spiraling corridor as quickly as she could without barreling into the walls. By the time she reached the King’s Bastion, she could hear Tam swearing repeatedly as he chased after her.
“The entrance to the throne room isn’t much farther down,” she called back over her shoulder. “Let’s just hope it isn’t sealed up or—
Sarina had barely returned to the main passages when a crossbow bolt sizzled past her face. Reverting to pure instinct, she tucked herself into a ball and rolled forward, hoping desperately that she could tumble behind a rocky outcropping on the opposite side of the passage. A second bolt whooshed past her tumbling body, then a third and a fourth…
And then she smacked hard against the wall and flattened herself down behind her improvised cover. Several more bolts shot past, and she estimated there were at least three marksmen further down the tunnel. Apparently, the Crell had just been a lot more patient about springing their trap than she’d expected; these soldiers must have been camping farther down the passage just waiting to rush in and flank them when the time was right.
Sarina flinched as another shot deflected off the outcropping a quarter inch from her knee. She was tempted to hunker down and wait for Tam to catch up—he couldn’t have been more than a few seconds behind her. But then a familiar buzzing crackle echoed down the corridor, and she reflexively sprang to her feet and dove back into the open just as a bolt of lightning sizzled through the air and blasted her cover into a thousand smoldering pebbles.
Evidently the Crell had deployed more than a few crossbowmen into the passage…and that meant Sarina was in trouble. She glanced up, fully expecting another blast of magic to burn her to cinders—
And then the entire passageway seemed to explode in a storm of white-hot flame. The flash was so bright she couldn’t actually see anything, and the heat on her face was so intense she wondered if her hair might spontaneously ignite. But she could also hear Tam screaming with exertion, and she decided to take a leap of faith—a big leap of faith—and assume he was competent enough not to incinerate her while she took advantage of his distraction. Muttering a silent prayer to any god who happened to be listening, Sarina dropped her bow, drew her throwing knives from her baldric, and rolled forward.
The roaring flames sputtered out once she closed in on the Crell, and through the smoke and dim lighting she could make out two still-moving targets crouched behind a makeshift barricade of loose stones and debris. She hurled a knife at the soldier to her right, and through sheer luck the blade pierced his throat just as he leaned up to see why the firestorm had stopped. His remaining partner, unfortunately, appeared to be the Imperator who’d nearly blasted her just a few seconds earlier. The man spotted her tumbling towards him, and he lifted his hands to obliterate her with magic—
In desperation, Sarina hurled her other knife. But between the man’s thick armor and whatever spells he’d shielded himself with, the weapon bounced away without inflicting any real damage. The momentary shock did cause him to stumble, however, and Sarina pounced upon him with the ferocity of an enraged chagari. She grabbed onto his arm, wrenched it behind his back, and then drove his head face-first into the nearby wall.
Without his helmet, she probably would have crushed his skull outright; without his protective magic, she probably would have at least shattered his nose. But even with all his defenses, he was still dazed by the raw force of the impact, and she used the opportunity to sweep his legs and knock him to the ground. Before he could recover, she drew another set of knives and jabbed them as hard as she could into his chest. Blood sprayed across her hands and even her chin, but after a few more seconds and several more stabs, the man finally stopped twitching.
“Fuck,” Tam rasped as he rushed up beside her. “Is that all of them?”
“For now,” Sarina said, jerking her weapons free. Once the momentary rush of battle faded, she nearly choked on the smoke filling the air. “They might have reinforcements further down the passage.”
“Wonderful.” His eyes flicked down to the scorched bodies, and he leaned down and retrieved her bow. “How about this time we go together? And try not to rush forward without warning me first. I could have hurt you.”
“I trusted you,” she said, shrugging. “Now come on—Jason still needs us.”
***
Balling his hands into fists, Jason swallowed the sudden rush of dread and forced himself to remain calm. He probably couldn’t summon enough power to blast through the wall and reach Tam and Sarina, not without harming them in the process, and splitting his attention while standing in front of the Galvian Sovereign seemed like suicide. So instead he focused his attention on the man in front of him…and wondered why in the void the most important person in the entire country was standing here all by himself.
“The mistress knew you would not be able to resist the lure of a vulnerable Sovereign,” Verrator said. He calmly stepped in front of the wooden altar and picked up the strange glowing crystal. The soft light glinted strangely off the many jewels encrusted within the high collar of his black-red robe of office. “Like your father, you are clearly drawn to power. Perhaps you believe that once I am dead, you will be able to sit upon the Galvian throne and rule your people.”
“I’m not really the ruling type,” Jason muttered. As he stretched out through the Aether, he felt an odd tingling sensation in the back of his mind. At first he believed it was a result of the crystal’s obvious power, but then he belatedly realized there was something else distorting his senses…
“Perhaps not, but your father is, yes?” Verrator asked. “Long has General Moore dreamt of reclaiming his people’s glory. Long has he believed that one day Galvia would stand on its own once more. But you and I both know that to be folly. Galvia is part of the Imperium now, and nothing is going to change that.”
“I guess we’ll see soon enough,” Jason said. “Without a Sovereign’s boot crushing their neck, the people will rebel.”
Verrator smiled. “They haven’t yet.”
Jason frowned in confusion at the strange response, and a cold tingle crawled its way down his spine. “What do you—?”
He cut himself off as the truth belatedly became clear. Taking a deep breath, he once again stretched out through the Aether…and this time the fog clouding his senses actually cleared. Verrator wasn’t standing here alone—there were nearly two dozen
Crell soldiers scattered about the chamber, all pointing their swords or crossbows at Jason. They had been hidden by some kind of telepathic illusion, and as Jason finally pierced through the veil, he realized the man in front of him wasn’t a handsome, youngish-looking man, either. His skin was freakishly pale, and his eyes were solid black orbs. He barely looked human, and he certainly didn’t look like a Sovereign.
He was a Shadow.
“Where is the real Verrator?” Jason croaked. His mouth had gone completely dry, and his knees were wobbly. He’d assumed that merging with Malacross would have made him immune to telepathic trickery, but evidently not.
“He is long gone,” the Shadow replied. “All will be made clear when you are brought before the mistress.”
“I’ll pass on that, thanks,” Jason muttered. He flicked open his hands and summoned electricity to his palms. His barrier couldn’t possibly protect him against so many, but if he could stall then perhaps Tam and Sarina would find another way to reach him. “I’ll die first.”
“No,” the Shadow said. “You won’t.”
He touched his thumb against the crystal…and suddenly Jason’s entire body was racked with pain. The electricity crackling in his palms vanished, and his grip on the Aether faltered. It was as if the entire world had started shrinking around him…
“Malacross,” he breathed, collapsing to his knees. No matter how hard he struggled, he could no longer sense the presence of the Godsoul. Somehow, someway, the strange crystal had separated them…and now he was defenseless.
“Secure him for travel,” the Shadow commanded. “Get him out of the castle before the Asgardians arrive. I will deal with his companions myself.”
***
“Jason…”
Gor glanced away from the battle, his orange eyes narrowing. “What?”
“I’ve lost contact with Jason,” Selvhara told him. No matter how hard she tried, she could no longer touch his mind. “It was very sudden, like some kind of barrier was erected between us.”
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