by Dean Cadman
“Don’t worry, Rebekah, I’m sure your mother only accidentally dropped the necklace here, before she ran away,” Neala said, knowing full well that her words were little more than a kind-hearted lie. “Shall we go check your house?” she asked, offering Rebekah her hand. Rebekah nodded, and slowly they headed back towards the village streets. A few minutes later they arrived at what was once Rebekah and Kayden’s house. All that remained now, was a burnt out shell. Lusam scanned the inside of the house using his mage-sight, and thankfully found no signs that anyone perished in the fire.
“There’s nobody inside,” Lusam said out loud, then wished he hadn’t when both Rebekah and Kayden started crying.
“It’s okay,” Neala said, hugging them both tightly. “It’s good news that she wasn’t here when the fire started. That means she could have run away and hidden somewhere else. Come on, let’s go find Alexia and Renn, shall we? I think they might have found you a horse that you can ride on.” Neala knew it wasn’t much of a diversion, but it seemed to lift their mood a little, as they headed off to meet up with the others at the paddock.
Ten minutes later they arrived at the large paddock. There was no sign of Renn or Alexia, so Lusam guessed they must be with the horses at the far side of the small hill. Lusam noticed that they had already placed four saddles on the ground, along with two bags of food taken from the smokehouse. Lusam’s stomach reminded him loudly that he hadn’t eaten breakfast yet, as soon as he thought about the tasty food within the bags. There didn’t seem any point taking food back out of the bags. Not when the smokehouse was only a few hundred paces away, so he informed the others that he would go fetch them some breakfast, and headed off in the direction of the smokehouse. On his way there he met Alexia coming the other way.
“I thought you were with Renn,” Lusam said.
“I offered to help him, but he was confident he could handle the horses by himself, so I went to explore a bit,” Alexia replied.
“Yeah, I got the same speech from him yesterday,” Lusam laughed. “Have you eaten yet?”
“Yes, thanks. We both had something to eat at the smokehouse earlier, while we filled a couple of bags for the trip.”
“Yeah, I saw the two bags of food back there, but I didn’t see any point taking food back out of them for our breakfast—not when the smokehouse is so near,” Lusam said, then he began to explain what had happened back in the village when they had visited the docks and the children’s burnt out house. Alexia looked very concerned for Rebekah and Kayden, and rushed off to meet up with them as soon as Lusam had finished telling her the story.
It wasn’t long before Lusam had gathered enough food for their breakfast, and headed back to the paddock to share it out. When he arrived, he noticed Rebekah and Kayden playing together, pretending to ride two of the horse saddles on the ground. Lusam gave each of them some food, then went to join Neala and Alexia at the fence. He handed Neala a share of the food, and then noticed what they were staring at. At the bottom end of the field, Renn was attempting to corner one of the horses, so he could get a rope around its neck. The horse kept rearing up at him, and on two occasions it almost caught him with its front hooves.
“It doesn’t look like it wants to be caught,” Neala said, in-between mouthfuls of food.
“Don’t worry, he said he knew what he was doing,” Alexia replied, cringing as he narrowly missed being injured for a third time. Eventually he abandoned that particular horse, and attempted a similar manoeuvre on one of the others, with similar results. This time one of the other horses came up behind him, and lifted him clean off his feet with its nose, sending him crashing to the ground a few feet away. He landed with a loud thud, flat on his back and Lusam burst out laughing at him.
“It’s not funny, he might get hurt,” Neala scolded him, but not without giggling herself a little first. Alexia was in hysterics by the time Renn managed to get to his feet.
“Lusam, can’t you help him?” Neala asked, not taking her eyes off Renn, who was now up, and chasing another horse around the field, trying to get a rope around its neck.
“I suppose I could… but he told me: as long as he showed the horse who was the boss, he only needed patience to tame it. I think by the looks of that, he needs a little longer to convince those horses he’s the boss,” Lusam replied chuckling.
Alexia managed to stop laughing just long enough to ask, “What could Lusam do anyway?”
“He can talk to the animals. Well, not exactly talk to them, but he could, I’m sure, convince those horses to calm down before Renn gets hurt,” Neala replied scowling at Lusam, who was now bent almost double, laughing at Renn’s attempts to catch the horse. A moment later Renn managed to finally get the rope around one of the horses’ necks, but not before he also managed to get his leg caught in the other end of the rope. The horse reared back, dragging him clean off his feet, then half-galloped across the field, dragging him along behind it. Alexia and Lusam howled with laughter, but Neala didn’t see the funny side of it, as he bounced along the field behind the horse.
“Do something!” she shouted at Lusam. He could barely see the horses through his tears of laughter, but he managed to project a calming thought towards them, then coaxed them towards the fence where they were standing. Even Neala began to see the funny side of it, as Renn was slowly dragged the length of the field in their direction, unable to release his own leg from the rope. Lusam waited until the horses were almost to the fence, then magically severed the rope to free Renn. Six horses were now neatly lined up against the fence, completely ignoring Renn as he tried to remove the remains of the rope from his leg.
“You certainly have a lot of patience Renn… but I’m not sure you quite convinced them that you were the boss,” Lusam said with a straight face. Alexia and Neala almost fell over laughing at his statement, and even Lusam couldn’t hold out against the incredulous look on Renn’s face.
By the time they all finished laughing at him, Renn had already begun saddling one of the horses without saying a single word. Lusam couldn’t decide whether he was angry, or simply embarrassed by the prank. But having felt the flat part of Renn’s blade once before on his backside, he decided to give him a wide berth this time, just in case. Eventually he stopped what he was doing, and turned towards Lusam with a puzzled look on his face.
“How did you do that?… No, wait… I don’t even want to know,” Renn said shaking his head and attempting to brush off some of the mud—and other, less pleasant substances from his clothing—which elicited another round of raucous laughter from the others. Eventually everyone calmed down enough to saddle their own horses, and it was time to leave Prystone behind. Rebekah had chosen to ride with Alexia, and Kayden had asked to ride with Lusam.
They barely made it to the edge of the village, before Kayden was asking Lusam if they could fly to Lamuria instead. ‘It’s going to be a long trip,’ Lusam thought to himself, as the others began laughing at his predicament this time.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Zedd and Cole spent the first night within Coldmont’s walls. It had been late in the day, and far too late to begin their long decent of the mountain. They had refrained from speaking openly about any of their earlier transgressions, fearing that Lord Zelroth had ways of monitoring not only the strange book room, but also Coldmont as a whole. It had been a shock to Zedd when Lord Zelroth had revealed that they were actually inside the fabled home of the ancient Guardians themselves. He had, of course, read the various history books pertaining to its existence, but as far as he was aware, its precise location still remained a mystery to almost everyone else in the world.
Early the next morning they had begun their long decent of the mountain. They had discussed their route in detail whilst still in Coldmont, and decided not to return directly to Stelgad. Instead they would avoid the strange fog covered valley by descending in a more easterly direction. Once they reached the first town or village, they would procure themselves horses and supplies by whate
ver means necessary, then head directly to Lamuria.
Zedd had no idea how he would achieve what Lord Zelroth had commanded him to do: take command of all of his forces outside Lamuria. His new rank of Baliaeter was sufficient to take command of such a force, but Lord Zelroth had given him no indication of how he was to usurp the current Baliaeter already in command there. If he arrived and simply announced that he was taking command of the forces, he would certainly be challenged by the existing Baliaeter. And if that happened, Zedd didn’t stand a chance of winning a direct confrontation with him. Although his new rank was of the same level, his magical ability was certainly not—he would have to choose his tactics wisely.
Descending the mountain was far quicker and easier than their trip up it had been. Zedd simply levitated himself and Cole down the almost vertical walls, avoiding the many switchback paths they had been forced to use during their accent. Zedd could tell that Cole was very nervous each time they stepped off the mountainside to levitate down to the next plateau. He obviously thought Zedd would let him fall to his death, knowing that he couldn’t levitate himself if he did. It had crossed Zedd’s mind to let him fall, but the truth was, Cole was no longer a liability to him. In fact, his strong mental abilities had already been proven beyond doubt against the Darkseed Elite in Coldmont, and Zedd was confident he could make use of them again in the future. Everything Cole knew about Zedd’s indiscretions would now almost certainly remain a secret. Cole had already lied to Lord Zelroth, so he could no longer report Zedd’s actions to anyone, and it was extremely unlikely that anyone other than Lord Zelroth himself was powerful enough to read his mind directly. So as long as he didn’t annoy him too much, Zedd would let him live, for now at least.
It took them a further two days to traverse the foothills of The Elveen Mountains, before they finally emerged from the treeline onto a road. Zedd had no idea where they were, so he decided to head directly south, towards Lamuria. They hadn’t eaten anything for almost three days, and were both very relieved to find a copse of fruit trees growing by the side of the road, not far from where they had joined it.
Four hours later they arrived at a small village. Zedd recognised it as one he had passed through on his way to Helveel several months earlier, and if his memory was correct, it would put them about three days north of Stelgad. Zedd’s first thought had been to simply destroy the village, kill anyone who got in his way, and take what they needed for their trip south. But once he’d taken a moment to think about it, he came up with a far better plan, one that would not require him to use up most of his dwindling reserves of energy. Neither of them had eaten much for days, nor had they had any meaningful rest in that time. What Zedd really needed right now, was a hearty meal and a proper bed for the night. There would be no point at all in arriving exhausted and bedraggled at Lamuria, especially if he did end up having to confront the current Baliaeter there. No, he wouldn’t waste his energy here. Not when he could use Cole’s instead.
“We should spend the night at that inn, and recover our strength before we continue,” Zedd announced, pointing towards the two storey building across the street.
“Oh, do you have some Afaraon coin?” Cole asked, sounding a little surprised, and hopeful at the same time.
“Of course not, you fool!” Zedd spat at him, making him cringe. “Why would I need their coins, when I have you?” Cole stared at him, not knowing what he meant, and too afraid to ask. Although Lord Zelroth had also promoted him to the rank of Baliaeter—meaning Zedd could no longer kill him using his ring—it didn’t mean he would survive a direct attack from Zedd.
Zedd sighed loudly, dismayed at his travelling companion’s stupidity.
“You have level eight mind control. Use it to get us a bed and a meal,” Zedd said slowly and clearly, as if speaking to a dullard. Cole nodded mutely, and stared towards the inn opposite. He had never attempted to control the mind of another person before. Only Inquisitors were allowed to undertake the mind control of another Empire citizen. He knew how to do it in theory, but knowing how to do something, and actually doing it, were two completely different things. Then there was the limiting fact that mind control only worked for a short period of time, depending on the individuals natural resistance. There was no possible way he could maintain that amount of control long enough to achieve what Zedd was suggesting. The more complex the suggestion was to the victim’s mind, the more chance there was of him or her discovering the deception.
“I don’t think I can do it. I would need to keep control of their mind for far too long. It’s just not possible to do,” Cole said. Zedd closed his eyes, and tried to calm his anger at the fool standing before him.
“You wouldn’t need to keep control of anyone, you idiot. I will ask for what we need, and suggest we pay for it in the morning. All you have to do is make whoever we speak to think that’s acceptable. Or is that beyond your ability too?” Zedd replied through gritted teeth. He didn’t wait for an answer, he simply strode towards the inn. Either Cole would succeed, or he would kill whoever was inside. It made no difference to him either way.
As it turned out, it didn’t become necessary to kill anyone. Cole not only managed to convince the innkeeper to allow them to pay for their food and lodgings the following morning, he actually kept his word, too. After the previous evening’s meal, he had suggested to a table of wealthy looking traders that he might join their card game, to which of course, they readily agreed. By the time Cole left the card game and retired to his room, the poor traders had little more left than the shirts on their backs. The next morning they didn’t even have to steal any horses or supplies, they simply bought them with some of Cole’s ill-gotten funds.
“So, how much money did you actually take off those men?” Zedd asked quietly, as they set off south on horseback.
“More than enough so we don’t have to sleep rough again, or worry about replacing these horses,” Cole replied grinning at Zedd.
“Good. Just remind me never to play cards with you in the future,” said Zedd, kicking his horse into a gallop. Cole smiled to himself, knowing that was probably as close to a compliment he was ever likely to hear from Zedd, then he too spurred his horse into a gallop after him.
‘If all goes well, we should reach Stelgad in a couple of days at this pace, then Lamuria in another seven or eight,’ Zedd thought to himself, glad for a second time that he hadn’t killed Cole.
***
As Lord Zelroth entered the large hexagonal shaped room, the chained Netherworld creature shrieked fiercely in the far corner, violently testing its chains and their anchors with its great strength. The Aznavor was unique on this side of The Great Rift. It had been captured before the end of The Dragon-Mage Wars, and held captive by several early warlords in Thule, before Lord Zelroth had found it, and bound it in its current prison.
It was deep red in colour with shiny scales, and looked like a strange giant decapitated floating head, with a huge single cat-like eye in the centre of its skull. Its immense mouth was filled with thin razor sharp teeth, each one six inches long and curved inwards. It had no limbs, apart from six long tentacles that sprouted from its head, each one tipped with what appeared to be a blind eye. But Lord Zelroth had discovered their true use many centuries ago. The Aznavor was similar to a Vesdari, in the sense that it would consume any and all magical energy it came into contact with, but there, the similarities ended. It didn’t consume the magical energy as voraciously as a Vesdari, nor did it explode when it reached its full capacity. Instead, Lord Zelroth had discovered—by feeding it many prisoners of The Thule Empire—that it slowly bled out its magical energy again over time. At first he believed the magical energy simply re-entered the world at large, but later he discovered the truth: it was sent back to the Netherworld.
After Lord Zelroth realised the magic wasn’t being vented locally, he set about proving his new theory that the energy was being sent back to the Netherworld somehow. He believed that if the energy could enter the
Netherworld, then maybe he could force open that conduit and allow his God, Aamon to escape. It took the lives of three of his best Inquisitors before the truth was finally discovered. Each one of them had attempted to form a mind-link with the creature while it vented its magical energy, and each one had ended up fully drained himself. Once the Aznavor locked onto an energy source, it would never relinquish that source until it was fully exhausted. It wasn’t until the fourth attempt that they discovered if they fed the Aznavor to capacity first—to start the venting process—then gave it another life to feed on during that venting process, the Inquisitor could then safely mind-link with the creature. As long as the mind-link was severed before the prisoner died, the Inquisitor was in no danger. Soon after their initial success, it was confirmed that the energy that the Aznavor vented, was indeed being sent back to the Netherworld.
At first, Lord Zelroth attempted to use the energy stream to force open a crack in The Great Rift, but he soon found that no matter what he tried, he could not influence the energy stream in any way, whatsoever. One unintended side effect of all the new magical energy being sent to the Netherworld, had been an accumulation of creatures gathering on the other side of The Great Rift, to feed on it. Eventually, that had attracted the attention of Aamon himself, and he was then able to use the Aznavor’s energy stream to communicate with the outside world. Ever since then, Lord Zelroth had been communicating and taking his commands directly from his God, Aamon.
There were five prisoners in the room. Each one magically bound and guarded by a Darkseed Elite guard. Most prisoners were usually from the lower classes of society, but they were all magi, and capable of using magic to one degree or another. They were selected at random from a large pool of prisoners, and all knew their possible fate once they entered the Aznavor room. Lord Zelroth’s method of delivering the prisoners to the Aznavor had changed over the years. At first, he had brought only the number of prisoners required for each successful communication. But he soon realised that almost every prisoner wasted a large amount of their magical energy trying to escape, knowing that their death was inevitable when they were fed to the Aznavor. Now he brought more than he needed, selected them at random, and always made sure at least one returned back to the general prison population. Any prisoner who tried to escape, became next in line for the Aznavor. It was a simple, and very effective way of controlling the prisoners, without wasting their magical energy in the process. It seemed that even a one in five chance of surviving the trip to the Aznavor room was enough to keep most of the prisoners in line.