by Justin Sloan
He nodded, jutting out his jaw in thought.
“So you’re in?” Alastar asked. “You’ll help us?”
“Seems like I’m committed now.” Stone glanced around at the empty waters around them, fog creeping in from all sides. “And we’re well on our way, so we might as well finish it.”
Rhona went to the helm and stared, amazed to see the shape of Sair Talem rising before them.
Alastar yelped, and Estair let out a low whistle. This was really happening. Soon they would be on Sair Talem, taking their quest to find the Sword of Light to the next level.
CHAPTER NINE
The group of clansfolk approached their second village, and Kia was quite sure the feeling of worry was as strong in the others as it was in her. If they had a repeat of the episode with the last clan, she’d have to prepare the type of fracas nobody here would like, least of all her.
As many times as her dad had told her to control her magic, to not lash out even if it looked like he was in danger, she would only agree in words, not in spirit. Of course she would come to his aid if he was threatened!
Because she hadn’t been able to do anything when her mom was in danger, and now she was gone.
If her dad thought for a second she would let the same thing happen with him, he was greatly mistaken.
The sun had set in the west, and Kia found herself thinking of Rhona and the others, wondering if they had made it yet. Maybe they had already found their precious magical sword and somehow this would all be over soon.
Not that she understood how finding a sword would bring an end to their troubles. In her opinion, hatred was hatred. If the paladins wanted to be at war with the clans, and the clans wanted to fight each other, and the king in the south wanted to ignore them all and leave them to their own devices while he did whatever the hell he did, she didn’t think for a second that a magical sword would really change any of it.
But what did she know of the world and its ways? She was just a little girl, after all, she told herself as she considered it all.
A series of torches flared to life ahead of them, lining walls that led into a village with small huts.
“I thought we were going to another wind clan first?” Donnon asked, glancing around to see if his companions knew what was going on.
“This is where they were supposed to be,” Oronth replied, frowning.
“Is it possible—” Donnon stopped, scrunched his nose, and shook his head.
“You’re thinking a fire clan fought them and took over?” Oronth asked, scorn heavy in his voice.
Donnon shrugged.
After a sigh, Oronth started walking forward. “Might as well ask them.”
But what they found wasn’t what any of them had expected. Instead of conquerors, they found collaborators. Apparently the local fire and wind clans had joined forces to deal with a group of paladins who had made it this far north, and had dealt the holy warriors some casualties.
“They show their ugly mugs up here again, we’ll tear off their heads and piss in their skulls!” a plump man in a sky-blue kilt proclaimed. He glanced down at Kia. “My apologies, lassie.”
She shrugged. “I wouldn’t do the same, but I get it.”
He blinked, caught off guard by that response, and then started laughing.
Soon they had briefed the chieftains of the situation down south and the plan for the clans, and it was hailed as welcome news. The clans agreed that joining forces against the paladins and any other potential threats was the best move, and confirmed they would help the other clans nearby as much as they could.
The next step, naturally, was a feast. The bonfires were lit and a goat was slaughtered, then put on a spit and cooked. Casks of mead were brought out, and soon Kia had to wander off so she didn’t see her dad at his worst.
She wouldn’t interfere with his celebrating, but hated the way he slurred his words and acted like an idiot whenever he drank too much. He had never done anything too bad, but she didn’t think it right that she should ever feel more mature than her own father.
Halfway to the tree she’d selected, she found Lannis flicking his wind spirit around the sky in the darkness.
“What are you doing that for?” she asked.
“Stormy wants exercise,” he told her with a shrug. When she shot him a look, he added, “Okay, not really. It’s just fun.”
“Good. I’m glad you’re not completely daft.”
“Nah, only a little.” He laughed. “You’re such a grownup sometimes, I figured you’d get into the mead with the rest of ‘em.”
She shook her head. “Don’t make me rethink my last statement. I’ll be ten soon, not sixteen as the clans require for drinking.”
“I had a drink once. Tasted like piss.”
“I don’t want to know how you know what piss tastes like.”
He snorted a laugh. “No, it’s a saying.”
She formed a small flame, then tried to shape it into a spirit. It became a large fireball instead, then vanished with a hiss.
“Huh?” When she saw Lannis looking at her quizzically, she explained, “I kinda skipped the spirit phase. Everyone thought it was unnatural, tried to keep it secret. Tried to make me create a fake spirit, but I’ve never been able to.”
“I get that they’re not real, but I think I’d like mine to stay.” He smiled at her, and then the smile faded. “Oh! I didn’t mean to rub it in or anything like that.”
She waved him off. “No, it’s not a big deal. It’s just, this guy, a paladin I know, not one of the bad ones… He was able to make a spirit of light and my dad says he followed it to find us. I don’t know what that means, like maybe the magic had some connection to his sister’s magic, or maybe there’s something deeper there, some other element to this magic that we just don’t get. But does that mean I’ll never have that ability because I can’t do the spirit thing?”
Lannis shrugged. “So, what? He could just focus on someone and the spirit would find them?”
She nodded.
“Like…” He closed his eyes, made a couple random motions with his hands—or she guessed they were random, because of the quizzical look on his face—and then opened his eyes and pushed out.
The spirit twirled around them once, and then it was off.
The two kids shared a look of excitement before running after it.
“Where’s it going?” Kia asked.
“Hopefully not far!” he replied, as they slid down a hill and then jumped over a fallen log in pursuit. The spirit led them up the next hill and along a path, then stopped at some ruins partially overgrown with shrubbery.
“I don’t get it,” Lannis said.
Kia was looking at the ruins, noticing a hole that led to pure darkness within. “The spirit led us to something, that’s for sure.”
“But what?”
They started following the ruins, the spirit dancing just ahead of them as if confused but determined.
“Who did you focus on?” Kia asked.
A muffled noise came, followed by someone saying, “Who’s there?”
Both kids froze.
“Just…let me try…” The voice came again, and a moment later an older man with a bald head appeared before them, his eyes pure white. Only something seemed off, like he wasn’t fully there.
“Mystic?” Lannis asked, amazed. “What…what are you doing here?”
The mystic looked at him, eyes still white. “Ah, the boy from the hillside! We were hoping for a…slightly older rescue party.”
Kia stepped forward, waving. “Uh, hi. Hello. Rescue party?”
“I am Larick, here with Voleny,” the mystic replied. “Trapped in here, I mean. We were traveling through the area, observing the highlanders, when this group took us prisoner. We could have fought, but believed it to be simply a misunderstanding. We would rather just escape and be on our way. I don’t suppose you could help?”
Kia scratched her head, and then it clicked. “Oh, you’re the
two mystics who helped Rhona and Alastar!”
“The same!”
“But…you’re standing here in front of us. How’re you trapped?”
He shook his head. “This is a projection of myself. We’re somewhere beneath the ground in a holding cell. There’s a guard, but perhaps you can create a distraction?”
“We’re kids,” Lannis exclaimed.
Kia shot him a glare. “What he means to say is, aye, this’ll be easier because we’re kids, and therefore more creative. No offense.”
“You get us out of here, and I promise all offense over being called less creative than you will be wiped from my mind.”
“You don’t seem very freaked out for someone who’s a prisoner,” she noted.
His projection smiled, and he explained, “I’m really not. Like I said, we could be out of here in an instant, if we didn’t mind hurting people. Had you not shown up we might have had to resort to that, but since you’re here, this clan is in luck.”
“So then…you wouldn’t want me to hurt them either, I take it?” Kia asked. “I could burn their whole village down.”
“No need, no need. Plus, the smoke might come down here and cause us to suffocate, so let’s call that Plan B.”
She laughed, then spoke to Lannis. “How about your wind spirit. Maybe it can cause the distraction.”
“This is a fire clan,” Larick’s projection said. “They won’t expect it.”
Lannis smiled. “Stormy’s only ever been for fun, never actually useful. This is exciting!”
“Stormy?” Larick asked.
“Don’t go there,” Kia cautioned as she leaned into the ruins, looking for a way in but seeing none.
“The village is just up ahead. Follow the ruins to the walls; you’ll have a good vantage point from there. If you can find the armory, we’re directly below it, in a tunnel off to the side.”
“And if we get into trouble?” Lannis asked.
“Then I suppose we’ll have to be fine with hurting these people to ensure that doesn’t happen. But like I said—”
“Best avoided. I got that.”
“Hang tight, Mr. Mystic,” Kia told him. “We’re coming.”
The mystic, who was starting to fade, smiled and said, “Oh, it’s Larick. Larick will do,” and then was gone.
“Not a completely boring night after all,” Kia declared, starting to walk along the top of the ruins with her arms spread for balance.
“True, but don’t you think they’ll see you if you walk up there?”
“Good point!” She hopped down. “Let’s get our sneaky faces on. Ready?”
He smiled in spite of the worry in his eyes. “I’ve never done anything like this, have you?”
“Are you kidding?” She stood tall, hands on her hips. “I helped take down a group of sorcerers who were attacking Roneland. I’m basically a hero. Well, at least a partial hero, but I mean to upgrade to full hero pretty soon.”
A look of relief came over his face, changing to doubt. “Wait, what? Really?”
“I mean, yeah. I wasn’t in the main part of the fight, but I definitely helped.”
He considered this, then the relief came back. “That should do then. Let’s save these powerful mystic guys!”
“It’s kinda fun, right?”
He nodded excitedly and off they went toward the town.
CHAPTER TEN
Master Irdin strode into the castle, passing underneath the large symbol of the exploding sun—a fragmented circle made of gold, spikes bursting out in every direction—and into the great hall of Abed. The Fortress of the Slain, they called it, telling stories of the spirits of the damned who still walked these corridors.
It had been in ruins when it was first discovered years ago. Master Irdin and the Sorcerers of Gallant, or the Dark Society, had been restoring it since their formation, and working to set up both the fortress and Abed Isle as launching points for the inevitable attack.
Now that day was nearly upon them, and he had failed his goddess. She would be here soon, and he would have to answer for his sins. For losing the woman with the dark magic.
Other than conquering the rest of northern Roneland, which he had already done, that had been the major task of this portion of the campaign, and he had failed. Would it matter that the highlands from the Fort of River’s End all the way to the northern tip now bowed to Her? Would it matter one bit that he and Her sorcerers had enraged the remnant into a fury that was sure to put the south of Roneland into a panic and set up Her ally so that everything simply needed to fall into place?
The woman with the dark magic was still out there with her paladin brother, and they had friends. Friends who had helped them, resulting in the loss of Wodain and Elaise, two of his most trusted associates.
He imagined someone weaker than himself might have called those two friends, when describing them to a third party. He didn’t believe in friends, but he did believe in family. And that’s what each and every one of these sorcerers were to him.
Their goddess stood above them all, glowing down on them. Their Mother.
He would lead them into battle, defeat all chance of current and future uprisings, and all for Her. He would be their Father, one day sitting at Her side.
Unless, that is, She had his head for this failure.
Each step echoed through the great hall like a marching army. When he paused to look at the tapestry that now hung on the far wall, the silence that followed was like death itself.
“Do you like it?” a voice said, and he turned to see a man step down the stairs on the tapestry’s left. This man was nude, painted white from head to toe. It was necessary to be pure when holding an audience with Her; that was the way of it.
For a moment, Master Irdin cocked his head, considering the man, then recognized him by the scar barely visible under the paint on the man’s left shoulder.
“You’re one of them now, Floren?” Master Irdin asked. “One of Her acolytes.”
“One knows we lose our names when we become one of Hers, but aye. She has accepted me into Her service.”
A rumor had spread outside of this castle that She only took women and men—whom She made into eunuchs—into Her service, but the rumor was clearly untrue. Such rumors often had kernels of truth, but Master Irdin preferred not to think back on the events that had led to that rumor. How it had nearly cost him his life when he had stepped forward and begged that She not harm Wodain further. His blood loss had been severe, but they had found him help.
He hadn’t even been one of Hers. Back then, he hadn’t yet lost his mind, or at least not until that incident.
And now, despite everything Master Irdin had done for the man, Wodain was dead.
If there was a chance of escaping this unscathed, the woman with the shadow magic and all of her friends would suffer greatly.
But right now, he had his orders.
The acolyte gestured Master Irdin forward. When they were no more than a foot apart, the acolyte narrowed his eyes and said, “Today marks a new milestone in your path toward enlightenment. Today, your past sins are forgiven.”
Master Irdin perked up at this.
“How…how so?”
The acolyte smiled. “She has deemed your failure to be worthy of punishment, but sees your power, and has given you a chance to prove yourself. You will lead the assault on the manor of Laird Summers.”
Master Irdin sank to one knee, head bowed, becoming conscious that his bowed head was likely inches from the acolyte’s exposed manhood. He closed his eyes, cursing himself for such ridiculous thoughts. This was Her servant, and therefore nothing more than an echo of Her voice.
Footsteps sounded, then grew faint, and when he finally looked up again, the acolyte was gone.
Master Irdin stood and headed for his chambers. His hands were still shaking from nerves, but his heart was at peace. If She had given him a second chance, he knew it meant She believed in him. He wouldn’t let Her down, not a second
time.
She had gathered some of the best sorcerers in the land, and brought a few in from outside as well. This time there would be no small, targeted attack. No simple recon mission. It would be an all-out assault. He would conquer, and he would have the shadow-magic woman.
And this time they’d have Her ally and his army at their sides. If the man refused, well, Master Irdin had ways of getting what he wanted. Refusal was not an option.
At the doorway to his chambers, two sorcerers waited. He didn’t recognize them, but when he drew close and saw beautiful women under the hooded cloaks, cloaks that hung open to show leather garb that left little to the imagination, he smiled.
She really wasn’t punishing him much at all, was She? With a nod, one of the sorcerers opened his door, and when he entered, they followed him in.
He smiled as their cloaks dropped to the floor.
“You’re in need of a lesson,” the first woman said, pulling at the tie that kept her leathers in place.
He stepped forward, feeling pressure against the front of his pants as he reached expectantly.
Only, instead of pulling off her leathers, the woman pulled something out from behind her instead. Some sort of rod with a jewel at its tip. He frowned, then his eyes went wide as he recognized it. Magitech.
She smiled as the other woman’s eyes went white. He couldn’t feel his hands, and saw on glancing down that he had somehow been bound to a chair. He didn’t even remember sitting, but there he was.
“No, wait!” he screamed, but the first woman had already thrust, jamming the rod into his groin. Shocks went through him and he screamed, yet when she pulled the rod back he found himself more aroused than before, surprising even himself.
“Is that all you’ve got?” he asked.
The second woman waved her hands, and suddenly he was flung backwards onto a bed, hands bound to the bedpost, legs spread, robes gone.
A shared look of excitement and mischievousness passed between the women. The first woman stepped over to him, licked her lips, and jabbed the magitech rod at him again. Pain shot through every nerve in his body and he thought for sure he was on fire, but when she pulled back he was unharmed, and even more aroused.