by Cole Pain
He almost yearned for those emotions to rekindle: the biting flame of pleasure, the cutting blade of pain, and the searing scream of rage. But they only smoldered deep below the surface. Now all he had was the memory, the resonance. It was nothing compared to the emotions he had felt before. No pain could ever match the agony he had lived. No pleasure could ever compare to the ecstasy he had suffered.
From now on any emotion that claimed him would be drowned in the memories and washed away. He would be surprised if he ever felt anything again. He was a shell, nothing more.
Aaron hadn’t spoken, but they needed no words. Both knew they had to reach Ren. Chris could feel Ren’s mien. It was a beacon in his mind, calling him to hurry. That beacon was moving toward Zier.
When Chris looked at Aaron, Aaron made no move to leave. Golden eyes held his own with an understanding so rich, so deep, Chris could only nod. Aaron knew Chris couldn’t leave the castle until he had found Alezza and destroyed her.
Chris opened the door to the suite and gazed down the stairs to the halls he had once called home. Everything had changed. The preposterous array of colors Valor had lavishly thrown in every haven was gone. Instead, rich reds and verdant greens, the colors of Quar and Crape, carpeted the castle’s interior. Splashed amidst the new textures were ornaments displaying Zier’s colors of black and gold. The entire castle was a celebration of Alezza’s triumph.
Chris’ eyes shifted to the wall directly opposite him where a large, detailed painting of Alezza now hung. Her eyes sought the painter with a flirtatious glint. Her lips opened in a slight smile. Her hair twisted sensually down her back. The painting was a masterpiece, but the beauty that radiated from its strokes faded under Chris’ glare.
Beneath the surface, Chris felt his hatred boiling, but that hate was only a distant cry. His eyes swept the room, surprised to find none of Alezza’s guard in sight. Only green uniforms ambled below. The gold-braided uniform marking Harman’s high rank glittered in the torchlight.
A servant girl glanced up at Chris and gasped. When Harmon turned to see what had caused the girl’s outburst, shock riveted across his face.
Chris started down the steps, Aaron close behind. The hall filled with a tense silence as servants stopped and watched their descent.
When Chris reached Harmon he spoke only one word, but that word was so biting it seemed to pierce the air like an arrow. “Alezza.”
His voice was odd to hear now that he knew his identity, for it had changed. Where before his voice held slight buoyancy, now it was as flat as a blade was straight. It was a voice of a shell of a man. That fact brought neither sorrow nor pain. It brought nothing.
Harmon cleared his throat, eyes still shimmering with surprise, but beneath the surprise joy bubbled to the surface. “Gone, my lord. After Manda told me what she did I thought it in everyone’s best interest she leave until the mystery was solved.”
Chris nodded. The fact brought him neither disappointment nor joy. “Harmon, I leave you in charge of the castle.”
Harmon’s brow furrowed in confusion. “My lord, where are you going? We need you here. You’re the new leader of Newlan.”
“No, Ren is still the leader of Newlan. Soon he’ll return, and when he does I’ll return Zier to him. I’m riding to Zier, Harmon, to war.”
Harmon studied Chris in the soft light before he nodded, as if what he had seen had answered all his questions, but when Chris turned to leave Harmon spoke again.
“My lord? What of Alezza? Do you want me to send word for her return?”
Chris’ eyes flickered to Alezza’s portrait. As soon as his eyes grazed it, it exploded. Everyone but Aaron and Chris cowered on the floor and covered their heads as shards of wood rained down upon them.
In the lingering silence, Aaron and Chris walked from the castle. In the far corners of his mind Chris heard Harmon shouting orders for the troops to prepare.
They were riding to war.
Chapter 23
They rode hard through the night, the next day and the next night. They were exhausted, but they could afford no sleep. The darkness was growing in the sky. Each time Ren looked at it his skin prickled.
Ren spurred his horse into a gallop and careened down the steep cliffs toward the entrance to Grauss’ hideaway. Neki overtook him and led them down, finding footfalls and avoiding crevices that couldn’t be seen by the naked eye. A few times Ren heard a horse stumble behind him, but no one cried out, and before long they were standing in front of Grauss’ hideaway.
“We all go in this time,” Ren said.
Neki didn’t argue as he took Markum and placed him behind a large bolder. Ren tethered the horses out of sight. Morrus untied Zorc and motioned to the others. “I’ll carry the wizard. His weight won’t bother me.”
Ren nodded and within heartbeats the five of them slipped quietly through the crack in the mountain.
The only sound was the running water far below, now a steady drumming instead of the soft trickle it had been before. The fall rains had come early. Soon the rift would be filled with winter runoff.
The nightmoss shimmered brilliantly, so much so their torches weren’t needed. They walked in silence, each knowing how much depended on Grauss’ wisdom. Just before they reached the sage’s cavern, they heard Grauss’ scream.
Neki ran down the remaining path at full speed, calling his grandfather’s name. Ren and the others followed as fast as they could. When they finally stood in the cavern, Ren found Grauss swinging from one of his dangling chairs. By its movement, Grauss was frantic.
“Grauss?” Neki said again, a slight nervousness to his voice.
Grauss turned and surveyed them with a blank stare. His skin matched his white hair. He blinked a few times before recognition came to his face.
“Choice!” he shouted with glee as he reached above him and pulled the lever. The chair moved down the rope with incredible speed. Before it could land, Grauss jumped to the floor and ran to Nigel.
“Choice!” he said again as he clasped Nigel’s face with two bony hands.
The Black Knight looked surprised before he grinned. “Grauss the Sage. Now I know you’re more mad than I even dared dream.”
Grauss chuckled before turning to Ren, face suddenly serious. “I don’t see Chance or Fate.”
“They’re coming.”
“Coming? Have you seen the Raven? My boy, there isn’t much time!”
Ren looked down at Zorc’s limp body. “I know. That’s why we’re here. We need to wake the wizard.”
Grauss peered at Zorc as if he were death come to life.
“We don’t know what happened to him,” Neki began, relaying the story of Dresden. With each sentence, Grauss turned more serious. Soon a frown consumed his entire face.
Grauss ushered them inside and pointed to a nearby table. Morrus gently laid Zorc down as Grauss ran to a large crate. After throwing out the top layer of gizmos the sage buried his entire torso in the crate and selectively tossed more things over the side.
Ren stooped over him. “Can I help you find something?”
Grauss jumped, hitting his head on a large round metal device. After some exclamations and curses Grauss’ head reappeared. “My dear boy, don’t speak while I’m in the midst of something. I forget people are here. Silver dust is what I need. I know I have it in here somewhere.”
Ren reached into his pocket and withdrew the small bag of silver dust he had carried since Michel and Galvin had recovered the bags from Ista’s camp. “I have some.”
Grauss pushed himself up and peered at Ren as if he had gone mad. “Well, why didn’t you say so, my boy?” he asked, snatching the bag out of Ren’s hand and scampering back to the wizard.
“What’s wrong with him, Gramps?” Neki asked.
Grauss plopped the bag of silver dust on Zorc’s chest. “Nothing’s wrong with him. He just used a simple trick called the ‘wizard’s defense’ to avoid whatever magic was in that bottle.”
Nigel m
oved out of Grauss’ way. “And that is?”
“Sleep.”
“Sleep?” Neki and Ren asked in unison.
“Yes, sleep,” Grauss said, peeling the wizard’s eyelids back. “Some magic is so powerful it can only lock onto something or someone with a great deal of strength or learning. From what you tell me, the bottle the High Priest broke was made specifically for Zorc. It would have been extremely powerful. In order to divert it the wizard went to sleep, for that is when they are at their weakest, hoping the magic wouldn’t catch hold. And the magic, without its true maker present, didn’t know where to go, so it died out.”
“But he’s been asleep for days,” Nigel said in frustration.
“Yes, dear boy,” Grauss said. “Wizards fall into the wizard defense only in desperation for they never know if they’re going to wake up in greater danger than they were in before. Most wake within a sun’s click, but this wizard is different. This wizard is – ”
“Four centuries old,” Ren finished.
Grauss smiled, pleased the synergy had found the answer before it had been revealed. “Yes. He hasn’t slept in almost four hundred years. He can’t wake up. He’s making up for lost time.”
They all stared down at Zorc.
Nigel frowned. “Why hasn’t he slept in all those years?”
“No need. If he’s survived since the Wizard War a time weave was placed on him, and there’s no need of sleep during the duration of the weave. Now that time has once again started turning for him, his body is slowly starting to need more things, like food and sleep.” Grauss looked at his grandson. “Has he slept before this?”
Neki shook his head. “No time.”
Grauss grunted his confirmation.
“So that’s why he refused all food. His body was adjusting?”
Grauss nodded.
“No wonder he’s lost so much weight,” Neki said.
“The wizard’s defense is the most powerful sleep there is. Because he hasn’t slept in four centuries it will be nearly impossible to wake him until he’s slept his fill.” Grauss peered at the wizard. “He’s in dire need of food. He’ll starve if we don’t wake him soon.”
Ren heaved a sigh. “What can you do for him Grauss?”
Grauss blinked up at him. “I can’t do anything. One of you has to wake him. Mere noise or slight physical disruption won’t even cause him to stir. Magic needs to be used, hence the silver dust.” Grauss held up the small bag before plopping it back down on Zorc’s chest. “It’ll help intensify whatever you decide to do.”
Neki stared at him. “But what are we supposed to do?”
“Wake him. Do something to wake him.”
“How do we know what will wake him?”
Nigel placed a hand on Neki’s shoulder. “Think about it. What wakes you? Something tickling you perhaps? Being too hot? Too cold? We’ve kept the wizard well covered and relatively comfortable. Maybe that’s part of the problem.”
Neki released a guffaw. “Galvin drug him out of the Obelisk, the Druidonian almost ate him, and he was dragged across half of the Maker’s forsaken country. ” Neki waved his hands in the air. “What do you mean he’s been comfortable?”
Nigel grinned. “Relatively. I said relatively.”
Ren felt helpless. “You two need to wake him. I can’t do anything that simple.”
Grauss peered at Ren for a brief time before he nodded. “Yes, that makes sense. The synergy is so strong the simple things evade him. That’s what keeps him strong, and that’s why he needs the three defenders. Yes, that makes sense, but why didn’t I see it before?”
Grauss wandered off, intent on the new information.
Neki picked up the bag of silver dust and heaved a tremendous sigh. “Wake a man who hasn’t slept in almost four centuries, Neki. It won’t be hard, Neki. Burning cinders on dragon’s tails.” Neki paused to run a wary hand through his thick black hair. “The Adderiss may be more pleasant than this.”
- - -
Neki peered down at Zorc. “I think I burnt him.”
They had tried everything they could think of but the wizard hadn’t even stirred.
Ren stepped closer. Sure enough, red welts were beginning to appear on the wizard’s exposed skin.
“Well eternal damnation!” Neki stepped back and crossed his arms. “What’s going to wake him if that didn’t?”
“I don’t know, but we have to keep trying.”
Neki sighed and nodded. He stepped back to the table and touched one of the red sores on Zorc’s neck. “I don’t think Zorc will be too pleased with me when he wakes.”
Although Neki grinned, Ren could sense his exhaustion.
“Why don’t we take a break and get something to eat?” Ren suggested. As soon as food was mentioned, his stomach growled. They hadn’t taken the time to eat a full meal in almost two days.
Neki nodded, visibly relieved, and walked over to the small smokeless fire Grauss had lit. After heating some water he tossed in some herbs and dried chicken. Soon a savory scent of basil and dill wafted through the air.
Zorc moaned.
Neki dropped his spoon. Nigel and Ren glanced at each other as wide grins stole across their faces.
“Hunger,” they said in unison.
Neki picked up the kettle and hurried over to Zorc. “Well, we don’t need magic to help that along.”
Neki dribbled some of the broth into the wizard’s mouth. Zorc’s stomach made a horrible grinding sound. Before Neki could dip the spoon back into the kettle, Zorc’s eyes flew open.
Neki grinned down at him. “You’re one tough wizard to wake. I nearly turned your robe into cinders.”
Zorc pushed himself up. “The Chosen?”
Neki pointed to Ren. Zorc turned.
The wizard’s eyes were just as Markum described: timeless, and filled with ageless understanding and depth. Ren felt like one of Grauss’ experiments under the watchful gaze of a master.
Then Zorc did something unexpected – he grinned. Zorc grinned to such an extent it was comical. Ren smiled back, too relieved to move.
“You’re whole?”
“Yes, I’m whole.”
Zorc drew in a deep breath. “I’ll be staggered. Tell me how. The Druids seemed to have closed you already. How did you escape?
“No, no,” Zorc said, shaking his head as an afterthought. “Start from the beginning. I haven’t heard everything.”
Neki forced a bowl of the chicken stew in front of Zorc. Zorc grabbed it and without bothering to cool its contents shoved a spoonful into his mouth. His pointy eyebrows rose to meet his widow’s peak as he swallowed and sat where he stood. “All these years I thought I’d imagined food tasting this good. But I was right,” he said, raising his spoon in the air for emphasis.
He motioned for Ren to begin as he held his empty bowl out to Neki. During Ren’s recount, Zorc mumbled curses directed at Ista under his breath, but didn’t interrupt. He only nodded on occasions when he agreed with Ren’s chosen course. Zorc hesitated when Ren had said he had met the Quy, raising his eyebrows even higher, in respect if nothing else.
When Ren mentioned the Oracle, Zorc leaned over and grabbed his hands. Pulling him forward, Zorc searched his eyes. A current of energy passed through Ren. Zorc’s eyes shone with intense power, but when the wizard released him they softened.
“I’m truly sorry you had to learn what you did, Ren. It would have been better if you hadn’t known what needed to occur before it did, but it seems what you did was necessary. Although I don’t know why, you’re whole, and now you know how to unlock the door. This will help you defeat the darkness.”
“You read my mind?”
“Not exactly, but close.” Zorc’s voice sounded almost as ageless as his eyes appeared. It was hollow and slightly deep, but soothing. The knowledge it conveyed contrasted greatly with Zorc’s young appearance, although some streaks of gray did frame his face and run the length of his hair.
“I read your emot
ions and those emotions brought me images. I may not know exactly what the Oracle told you, but I have an idea. Emotions tell us more about a person than the person’s own thoughts. Emotions are stronger than thoughts. They bring pictures of feelings instead of just words. Although pictures, like words, can be interpreted many different ways, if you know the emotions of the person, images take on a life of their own. For instance, because you know Markum’s personality, his emotions, you are able to interpret his dreams easier than you would written prophecy. Written prophecy is without images and can be interpreted a billion different ways. The written word’s interpretation is based on the decoder and the decoder’s opinion of what the words bring to mind, which won’t be the same as the emotions of the seer.
“The internal elements are the driving force of the Quy, and learning to use them will be your first lesson. The love inside you was strong already, now the pain inside you is intense, and the anger is waiting to be released. The path you have walked may have been a tool to show you how to elicit these emotions. You need all emotions to be in balance, to be strong. It’s my job to show you how to use emotion wisely.”
Ren frowned at the thought that everything he, his friends, and the Lands had suffered had only occurred to teach him emotion.
“Will we be able read someone’s emotions?” Nigel asked, interrupting Ren’s thoughts.
“Maybe, depending on your strength and your talents.” Zorc turned back to Ren. “Continue.”
When Ren had finished, Zorc stood, pulled something from his robe, and tossed it on the floor. There was a silent impact to the air as three shining silver dragons rose from the ground in a circular configuration, necks stretching in a roar, wings billowing up and out, and blue sapphire eyes shining with brilliance. The pewter creatures stood as tall as Zorc’s waist. Ren half expected the dragons to come to life, but they remained still, watchful. Zorc placed a small round globe in the midst of the stand. It immediately exploded to full size, cradled among the dragon’s wings.
It was the Silver Eye.
Grauss hastily began scrawling notes on a parchment. Morrus, clearly uncomfortable, took a step back.