Kings of Ghumai- The Complete series Box Set

by D N Meinster

  Doren choked on his own saliva as the thought hit him, starting a violent cough that lasted at least a minute. But no one came to check on him in the interim. For all anyone could know, it was the King choking. Yet not a soul entered or even opened the door.

  Hatswick had been here. Doren was sure of it. He’d done something to his father and perhaps even the servants in Castle Tornis. They’d been so preoccupied with gathering keys that they hadn’t even thought that their home might need protection. It’d been completely vulnerable to the powerful mage. There was no one here capable of defending Kytheras from such a threat. They’d taken the last mage from the kingdom with them on their quest.

  The Goddess had known what was happening here. She should’ve told them. They could’ve easily taken a break and shifted back to secure their home. Instead, all She did was warn them when it was time to return.

  Again, Magenine put Her priorities first and his family last. She cared more about the Keys and keeping Neanthal locked away than She did about the well-being of any Tunsev or the preservation of Kytheras itself.

  She’d taken away his mother and the father he had known when he was younger. Now, it seemed She’d allowed what remained of King Halstrom to be trapped or eradicated, even though he was finally capable of doing something about it.

  “Why do you do this, Magenine?” Doren whimpered. She could’ve warned them about the plague. She could’ve warned them about Hatswick. She could’ve warned them what was happening to Castle Tornis.

  But no, She remained silent. The only one She spoke to was Aros. And he was foolish enough to listen, even though She’d already taken his father and his girlfriend.

  He’d been right all along. Magenine didn’t deserve their worship. She stayed in Her Bastion even when it was Her Bastion that was under threat. She expected them to do everything for Her.

  Well, he was done. He’d have no more to do with this Goddess once they’d settled things with Hatswick. If Aros wanted to look after the Keys for the rest of his life, he could. Doren would have no part in that.

  He shook with anger as he allowed himself to catch his breath. He’d have to keep his feelings to himself for now, so as not to upset his friends. And Rikki might not approve of his newfound attitude, but he’d lay out the facts so she at least understood.

  Aros. Rikki. What if the Throne Room was a trap? Hatswick might think that’d be the first place they’d go. And he’d sent his friends straight there.

  Doren tucked his shield against his chest and spun in place, picturing the Throne Room in his mind. When he completed the spin, he was there.

  The Throne Room was a nearly perfect circle, lacking any corners as well as an actual door. Most of the walls were a magnificent assortment of stained glass that only became black stone inches from the ceiling. Amidst the vibrant display was a high-backed chair at the top of a set of steps, with crimson and tasseled cushions fit for the King. And, to Doren’s great surprise, that chair was presently occupied.

  King Halstrom seemed to have aged backwards in their time away. The neatly trimmed beard that covered his chin and cheeks seemed to have darkened over the decks. The wrinkles and crow’s feet that Doren remembered had vanished completely. His orange eyes sparkled as much as the sword attached to his green attire. And the white hairs amongst the deep gray seemed to have been weeded out.

  Doren stared at the King, trying to comprehend how wrong he’d been only minutes earlier. He was going to owe the Goddess an apology.

  Standing beside King Halstrom was a man dressed in white armor, with a smooth face accompanying his platinum head of hair. Doren hadn’t seen Julius in ages, as he intentionally avoided the Head Guardian so as not to encourage another lesson in swordsmanship. Nevertheless, he, too, seemed to have grown younger in the decks they’d been away.

  Had time changed its flow in their absence? Perhaps all the shifting they’d done had caused an adverse effect? Or maybe he was simply misremembering what King Halstrom and Julius looked like. Memory could be fickle, and he hadn’t exactly pictured them every day of their journey.

  “Dorenculous,” King Halstrom said, not shocked to see his son shift into the room.

  Doren gave a slight bow before turning to his friends. “What did I miss?”

  “We were going over where we’d been,” Rikki answered. “But we hadn’t even gotten to Belliore yet.”

  “So, not three, but four Keys?” Halstrom stated, noticing the Key hanging from Doren’s neck.

  Aros tapped on the Keys swinging on his waist. “Hatswick got one.”

  “Belliore’s Key,” Rikki added. “Which was my fault. If you’ll allow me, I’ll explain.”

  “I’m anxious to hear it, but there is plenty of time with which you’ll be able to,” Halstrom said. “A meal and rest would suit you better now, would it not?”

  Doren’s eyes lingered on the King. Something was off. It wasn’t just a faulty memory. He was certain.

  “I’m eager to catch up with you,” Halstrom said, acknowledging his son’s gaze. “But first—”

  “Why is the High Council chamber in such a poor state?” Doren blurted out.

  Julius turned his head to the King, but Halstrom would not break his stare with the Prince.

  “You have more questions,” Halstrom stated.

  “Where is Linus? And Phyllis?” He’d have expected at least one of his father’s most trusted servants to be at his side. Julius usually only went to the King when there was a problem, and those typically involved either himself or Rikki.

  “And?” Halstrom said, anticipating more.

  “Why does the castle seem more empty than usual?” Doren went on. “Why is Julius the only one with you?” He looked to his friends. “How active were the corridors on your way here?”

  Aros already had his hands on his clawblades. “We saw one guardian.”

  “Just one,” Rikki said, the channeling crystal on her staff coming to life.

  Doren returned his focus to the King. Was it possible he was being controlled? Puppeteered like Spira had done with the Outerlings? Maybe the whole of Castle Tornis had been enchanted by Hatswick. There was just one more thing he needed to understand. “And why are your eyes orange?”

  A grin sprang up on Halstrom’s face that was unlike any he’d ever had. With a wave of his hand, Aros’ clawblades flew off his back and into the entryway, accompanied by Doren’s shield and Rikki’s staff.

  “The High Council Chamber has not been used since we threw all the members into the dungeons,” Halstrom said. “Linus is no longer with us, as he detected issues in my character far too early, as you have now. Phyllis, however, is in storage, awaiting use.” The King rose onto his feet. “Castle Tornis is empty because its residents are confined to quarters unless I say otherwise. Julius is not here, because Julius is deceased. And my eyes are orange because they have always been and will always be.”

  Doren audibly gulped as he tried to grasp King Halstrom’s answers. As he stared, the façade of the King began to melt away from the being it covered. The hair atop his head disappeared completely, replaced by a woven ponytail that dropped all the way to his ankles. The beard transformed into a mustache and goatee, trimmed into the shape of an upside triangle. The green outfit turned black, with the leather stretching toward the floor, and a silver heart decorated the center of his chest. The only thing that remained in place was Aergo’s sword, still strapped to his waist.

  After his new visage was born, Julius began to change as well. A mustache and goatee rapidly grew on his face, and the platinum hair instantly became a mix of salt-and-pepper strands. His nose stuck out more while his eyebrows darkened, and the white armor fell away and was replaced by robes of black and gold. The sword grew into the length of a staff, one that wrapped around its channeling crystal and ended in a point, while matching the color scheme of his robes exactly. And, with a sweeping motion, a trilby hat appeared from the ether and was gently placed atop his head.

  No
ne of them moved, or cried, or shouted. They had no words, no reaction, other than utter despair.

  Hatswick had won. Neanthal was free.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Absence

  “King Halstrom is dead,” Neanthal croaked, answering the trio’s question before any of them could ask it. “Not that anyone here was aware of it. Besides Linus, I suppose. And he had to go before he could ruin this charade. I thought I’d be able to continue it, even after you stooges had returned. Alas, I underestimated you, even though dear Hatswick had warned me. I thought it was his personal failings that let you challenge him, but I can see that you three are formidable.”

  Doren knew Neanthal was speaking, but he hadn’t comprehended any word after he’d heard that the King was dead. He’d lost both parents now. He was an orphan; an orphan Prince. He had no true family left.

  To think he’d worried what kind of man his father would be upon his return. Instead, he’d never get the chance to find out. Halstrom was no more. He was gone. Sent to Magenine’s Bastion for the rest of eternity.

  Even Linus was lost to him. He’d been kinder than Phyllis and had kept his father’s trust and secrets. How much knowledge had he taken with him?

  It was getting difficult to breathe. Was Neanthal doing something to the air? He peeked at his friends, who seemed to have no trouble inhaling and exhaling. Then why was he?

  His legs weakened. They couldn’t keep holding up the rest of his body. As he began to wobble, he dropped down onto his knees.

  Aros saw Doren sink to the ground from the corner of his eye. But his focus remained on Neanthal. He was entranced; unable to look away. This had to be an illusion. Hatswick was tricking their eyes with his magic. There was no other explanation.

  It took five Keys to open the Door. Hatswick only had one. Aros and his friends had four. Thus, the situation in front of him was impossible. Neanthal was still locked behind the Door.

  If this was truly the Beast, then wouldn’t Magenine have warned them what had happened? Wouldn’t She have said more than to simply be on their guard?

  And then he remembered his vision in Terrastream. He’d seen the Door opening. Had She alerted him without him realizing it? Of course, that was likely. He always missed things. But then, it all came down to one simple question.

  “H-How?” Aros stuttered.

  Neanthal’s fiery gaze locked onto Aros.

  He swallowed before adding, “We have four Keys!”

  “And if you’d have managed to collect all five, I wouldn’t be here,” Neanthal replied. “But you missed one. Five Keys were required to open my prison, but one Key weakened the enchantment that held it closed. And that was all I needed. Amelia never could fully comprehend the extent of my abilities. She failed back then as you have failed now.” His eyes targeted Rikki. “Fitting, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Then it was all for nothing?” Aros asked, directing his question at Magenine but hearing a response from Her greatest enemy.

  “I’m afraid so,” Neanthal’s throaty voice provided a response. “Five Keys merely provided me five opportunities. If just one were obtained by my loyal Thalians and aimed at the Door, I could do the rest. But even they were unaware. And so I was stuck for over three hundred years. There’s only one other in this room who can understand how long that is.” He glanced at Hatswick. “Had Hatswick realized sooner that I only required one, he might not have bothered with replica keys or chasing the three of you. But I forgive him.” His lips widened in a toothless grin.

  “I made efficient use of my time. While I could only glimpse what was occurring on this plane, in mine I had full dominion. Amelia’s second mistake: giving me a world of my own. I plotted and created and readied for the day I would return to this physical realm.”

  Rikki tried not to give away how she was feeling inside, but the sense of hopelessness was overwhelming her every thought.

  It had been common knowledge that the Door could only be unlocked with five Keys. Her great-grandmother had made it so. To discover this was untrue only when it was too late to do anything about it was the most despondent revelation in her entire life. Her own imprisonment, learning what had happened to her parents, and even having her very mentor betray her were all secondary to this.

  One Key. Neanthal could be freed with one Key.

  She should’ve let those buildings fall in Belliore. She shouldn’t have minded the collateral damage that might result from her battle with Hatswick. If she hadn’t let him get away with the third Key, the true King Halstrom would have greeted them on their return.

  The Nasem family had failed all of Ghumai. Amelia’s magic wasn’t remarkable enough to keep Neanthal sealed away. Rikki’s magic wasn’t great enough to keep the Keys out of Thalian hands.

  It was all her fault. Everything that happened after Hatswick bested her was on her.

  How could Doren ever forgive her after this? No matter the relationship he had with King Halstrom, he was still his father. And he was not taking the loss well. He hadn’t moved off the ground since his collapse.

  Not that they would necessarily have a future after this. It was well within Neanthal’s ability to kill them before they had a chance to fight back. And neither she nor her friends seemed to be capable of battling against him.

  The journey was over and they’d lost. The only option left was to extend the time they had before execution. And that meant keeping Neanthal talking. After three hundred years in isolation, he seemed glad to oblige the chance to continue a conversation.

  “Why come back here?” Rikki asked. “Why pretend to be Halstrom?”

  “You cannot fathom what Magenine’s Bastion is like,” Neanthal replied. “All that was and all that will be are within Her reach. To defeat Her, I need more than demibeasts and Ifta. I need weaponry and men to wield it. In my absence, the Bellish have developed technology more advanced than even I could have predicted. All I need is the numbers. Though I have more now than before I was locked away, it is not enough. I need men. And who would the men of Ghumai follow? Not the Beast that they’ve heard about in exaggerated tales all their life. No. But they’d follow a king. And not any king, but the heir of King Aergo himself.

  “That was my thinking, at least. But Halstrom is not as respected as I’d hoped. And with the lands parted, they will all need to be conquered again. And why pretend to be someone else while I do it? That brings me to Amelia’s third mistake: the Great Parting. She’s prevented all of Ghumai from coming together to rise against me. Taking them over one-by-one will require some time but relatively little effort. And once they’re all mine again, the real war begins.”

  Rikki felt something slide down her back, and her eyes widened as she realized who’d been hanging onto her since they’d arrived. He’d been silent since then, but he whistled as he charged at Neanthal.

  Neanthal was taken aback as Ji-Ji slammed into his chest and chomped down onto his neck.

  Hatswick moved to intervene, but Neanthal held up a hand to stop him.

  He grabbed hold of the denhare and yanked him from his hold. Ji-Ji tore out some flesh along the way, but the wound faded like it’d never been there at all.

  Neanthal looked into the clouded white eyes of the denhare. “It can’t be. Jient?”

  Ji-Ji let out a burst of angry whistles.

  “Who freed you from the dark? This one?” He glanced at Rikki. “She does show some skill, doesn’t she? But why a denhare, my old friend?”

  Ji-Ji fidgeted and tried to escape as Neanthal held him at arm’s length.

  “Don’t worry, I won’t send you back there. You can go to the Bastion, now. And you can tell Magenine I’ll be seeing her soon.” Neanthal dug his fingers into Ji-Ji’s white fur, and with relative ease, yanked the denhare in two. Each half hung from his hands as the white eyes turned to black and the white fur became red with blood.

  “Ji-Ji!” Rikki cried. Her staff soared into her outstretched hand and a green bolt of lightning escaped it
and reached for Neanthal.

  Neanthal flew back as the electricity struck him, both halves of the denhare leaving his hands as he toppled into the King’s throne.

  Hatswick moved in front of Neanthal, and with a wave of his staff, he sent Rikki flying back into the pile consisting of her friend’s weapons.

  Rikki commanded the clawblades and shield into the air, and they floated back to their owners.

  Aros took hold of the blades and charged, but he froze in midair while lunging at Hatswick.

  Doren slipped the shield onto his hand but gaped at it like he was unsure how to proceed.

  “Enough,” Neanthal said, pushing Hatswick out of the way once he was back on his feet. “I knew you still had some fight in you.”

  Rikki kept her staff pointed at Neanthal, but she couldn’t decide what she might do that could cause him serious harm. But he had to pay for what he did to Ji-Ji.

  “Even this dullard went on the attack,” he said, acknowledging Aros before he sent him crashing onto the steps. “But it seems I have already beaten the last heir of Aergo. Good. The only power the Tunsev line had was to inspire. You won’t be any threat, Dorenculous.”

  Rikki whipped her staff downward and the stained-glass windows all shattered at once, but the shards remained airborne. With a subsequent twirl, she launched them all at Neanthal and Hatswick.

  Neanthal appeared to freeze them all in place by merely holding up a finger. “Amelia was always a challenge in combat. What you lack in her power, you make up for in your determination. I admire that, young Rikki.” He snapped and all the glass returned to their prior place, leaving the windows unmarred. “But it’s why I cannot have you getting in the way.” Neanthal reached out toward her, and his arm became a black cloud. The cloud expanded until it filled up the room, drowning them all in darkness. When it finally contracted, they were no longer in the Throne Room.