“I think we fight,” Alexander said. “I don’t want to run into that demon with a bunch of these creatures behind us.”
“Fair enough,” she said. “What’s your plan?”
“I thought I’d stand in the doorway and cut them to pieces,” Alexander said, drawing just the look he was expecting from Abigail.
“Perhaps fire,” Cassandra said. “It seemed to work before.”
“I’d rather not use another arrow, if I can help it,” Abigail said.
“And you needn’t,” Cassandra said. “We can throw fire.”
Magda nodded agreement.
They spent a few moments organizing their attack. Once everyone was in place, Alexander to the left of the door with the Thinblade in hand, Jataan to the right of the door, Cassandra and Magda at the door, side by side, Alexander willed it open.
Creatures tumbled through. Alexander and Jataan sliced into them quickly, scattering black carnage onto the floor of the Wizard’s Den. Magda released her spell, blasting the creatures back into the stairwell with a burst of magical energy that opened a space before the door.
Cassandra fired a gout of liquid fire into that space. It splattered on impact, rebounding against the creatures closest to the door, spraying orange-hot, sticky flame in every direction. The jet of fiery liquid streamed forth, unrelenting, filling the world just outside their door with hot death, then stopped as abruptly as it had begun.
Alexander closed the door.
“It might be a few minutes,” Magda said.
Alexander picked up part of a dead creature that had fallen into the Wizard’s Den and carried the carnage to the balcony where he casually tossed it over into the endless fog. Within a few minutes, he and his friends had cast the remnants of all the dead creatures away.
He waited for about ten minutes before opening the door. The stench and heat hit him first. What lay beyond was haunting and horrific. Hundreds of the creatures had been killed by fire and the superheated smoke that it created. They walked cautiously, picking their way past charred husks that looked as unnatural in death as they had in life.
It wasn’t until they reached level four that they encountered the first living creature, though it was injured severely enough that it was an effortless kill. Alexander felt a pang of guilt as he flicked the tip of the Thinblade through its head.
He stopped, leaning on Luminessence and sending his sight upward, winding around and around the spiral staircase toward the bedchamber hundreds of feet above. His reconnaissance complete, he returned to his body.
“There’re a few dozen of them still alive and active between here and the surface. The demon is back in the bedchamber and it looks like it’s killed twenty or thirty more.”
Jataan took point, short spear in hand. He worked systematically, deliberately identifying his next target, calculating the most efficient way to kill it and then attacking with such detached, calm precision that Alexander began to wonder what it would take to rattle the man.
He followed closely, offering a warning when one was coming around the ever-present corner. Jataan dispatched them all, cleanly, and with a thoroughness that left no doubt.
It took a while, but they finally reached the bedchamber, Alexander taking point and bounding into the room, Luminessence held high. The tentacle demon was attached to the ceiling, as if lying in wait.
Alexander poured his will into Luminessence, bringing forth its most brilliant light—so perfectly white and pure that it could wash evil from the world of time and substance.
Brilliance flooded into the room. The demon shrieked in pain and rage, its skin igniting under the life-affirming light. Its flesh bubbled and boiled, sputtered and hissed, burning away into a dark smoke that drifted to the ground and coated the floor in splotches of black.
It launched itself at him, moving with frightening speed, sailing through the air, tentacles trailing behind. Alexander’s battle sight warned him a moment before the attack, giving him the time he needed to dive out of the way, narrowly avoiding the demon’s wide-open mouth.
The monster hit the ground and tumbled across the room, hitting hard against the wall. A second later, it was up on its tentacles.
Alexander rolled onto his back. He held Luminessence with both hands, bringing the light back up as he staggered to his feet, willing it to shine with all possible brilliance. It drew on his strength, sapping his energy, but still he gave his will to the staff.
The renewed light hit the demon from a different angle, searing the flesh from several tentacles, causing the monster to falter and topple to the ground. A tentacle darted forward, but Alexander dodged it and cut it with the Thinblade. His light continued to pour forth. He began to feel as though Luminessence was demanding all that he had, every last bit of his life and energy.
All at once the demon seemed to deflate slightly and go still.
Alexander released his light, plunging the room into the shadows of normal illumination. The tentacle demon gave one last thrash, struggling to attack with tentacles that had already been burned away, before completely deflating and slumping to the stone floor.
Alexander sat down, all energy drained from him save for the momentary exhilaration of a meaningful victory.
***
Dawn had just broken in the hazy distance, low clouds diminishing the sun to a grey-orange splotch on the horizon. A flight of wyverns nearly a hundred strong soared in formation with a dragon floating effortlessly well above and ahead of them.
Alexander looked over the side of Ratagan’s wyvern and saw at least two thousand men marching along a freshly cut road through the rugged forest several thousand feet below. More of Zuhl’s soldiers heading for the Nether Gate. He made note of their position.
The journey went quickly, the wyverns flapping wings in unison to lift the entire formation, then locking their wings to coast. By late afternoon, they came in for a landing on one of Bianca’s flight decks. Handlers took Ratagan’s wyvern by the reins as Alexander dismounted and opened the door to the Wizard’s Den.
“Master Colton is certainly right about this means of travel,” Magda said, smiling at Bianca as the Flight Commander approached. Then she turned to Alexander and said, “During our journey, I devised a modified spell, entirely due to the book you lent me, Lord Reishi, that I believe will give me the ability to bring Taharial back from his present state.”
“Are you sure you’re ready?”
“Honestly, not really,” she said. “I’ve only had one day of study. Usually, I take many weeks to think on a spell before attempting it, but today is not a usual day. With the help of my sisters, I believe that I can save my steed.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Alexander said.
“Lord Reishi,” Bianca said, stopping before him and bowing slightly. She was flanked by her command staff, all of her Wing Commanders’ colors shining with magic.
“Are your forces ready to fly?” he asked.
“Within the hour if need be,” she said.
“Good, have them prepare to attack Zuhl’s fortress island just before dawn. Ratagan and Horst will need to leave with me in time to get there two hours earlier.”
“I’ll see to the preparations,” Bianca said.
“We also need a place for Zora to land and rest,” Abigail said. “I’m sure a side of beef wouldn’t go amiss either.”
“Will a place on the surface do?”
“I don’t see why not,” Abigail said.
Bianca nodded to one of her Wing Commanders. The woman hurried off to attend to the dragon.
“I’d like to meet with the commanders and witches as well,” Alexander said. “My plan is going to require some careful timing and coordinated execution.”
***
Alexander had been thinking about the map table in the Reishi library. With it he could show his friends a scene from the world in real time.
It got him wondering about his own illusion magic. While the witches and commanders were assembling, Alexander opened his Wi
zard’s Den and sat down inside his magic circle. In two breaths’ time, he was floating on the firmament. A moment later, he was hovering over Zuhl’s fortress island. He focused on the shape of it, the features, the details, memorizing every aspect of it.
When he was certain that he had a firm grasp of the island in its current form, he projected into his Wizard’s Den and created an illusion of the fortress island on his table … and it was terrible. Ill-formed, lacking detail, missing important features.
He released the illusion.
“What are you trying to do?” Abigail asked, sitting back a bit from the table as if she might get something on her.
“Project an image of the place we’re going to attack.”
“Well, are you looking at it now?”
“No,” Alexander said, frowning deeply at his sister.
“What? I don’t know how it works.”
“I’m not sure I know how it works either, but you just gave me an idea,” he said, sending his sight to Zuhl’s fortress island. Then, while still holding his clairvoyance on the target, he split his focus, seeing there, projecting here, creating a perfect replica of the fortress island: a pair of drakini floating by on patrol, twenty-five hundred men encamped on the surface, three ships holding station half a league away … the whole perfect illusion filling the surface of the table in the middle of his Wizard’s Den.
“Impressive,” Magda said. “Is this depiction in real time?”
“Yes, it’s exactly as I see it,” Alexander said.
While creating the initial illusion took some effort, maintaining it was nearly effortless, requiring only that he kept the location being viewed present in his mind.
“That’s quite a trick,” Jack said.
“Used well, this capability is an insurmountable strategic advantage,” Jataan said.
The implications cascaded through Alexander’s mind. He lost focus and the illusion vanished, though the illusion he’d cast of himself remained.
“The commanders are assembled,” Bianca said from just outside the door. Everyone except Jataan and Alexander left the Wizard’s Den. Alexander remained in his magic circle and Jataan remained in the doorway.
Alexander’s illusion, every bit as real-looking as his own flesh and blood, appeared at the head of the council table. His friends and many ranking witches sat around the table. The walls were lined with chairs filled with lesser witches and Sky Knight commanders and squad leaders.
It seemed so natural the second time, like it should have been obvious all along. He looked with his clairvoyance at the fortress island and projected a perfect replica on the table, so real that it looked like you could reach out and touch it.
“We have limited resources but many objectives …” Alexander began, laying out his plan in careful detail, ensuring that everyone participating in the attack understood the objectives, their priorities, and the order of attack. He spent time focusing on specific locations around and within the fortress island, providing each unit with a clear picture of their field of battle.
He also offered insight into the probable response of Zuhl’s forces, examining their equipment and weapons up close, searching out the drakini and showing the Sky Knights what they would face in the air. Finally, Alexander projected an image of Ixabrax, collared and cowed, curled up in a ball in the wyvern birthing chamber.
The capability to project real images of places at a distance was unlike his other magical talents in its development, in that it came so effortlessly, almost as if the capability had been there for some time and he’d just never used it before. Or perhaps, it was a new combination of abilities that he was already using. Either way, Alexander came to believe that Jataan’s pronouncement was true.
By midway through his presentation, his audience had fallen silent, seeming spellbound by the clear, real, substantive, and absolutely accurate illusions of places that awaited. He defined objectives, assigned roles to each unit, made allowances for enemy reactions, and prepared for withdrawal from the battlefield.
Once the Sky Knights and the witches knew the plan, Alexander projected onto the bridge of the Angellica, startling a tired-looking Captain Targa.
“Lord Reishi. Your orders?” he said, recovering quickly.
“How many men can you deliver to the seawall of the fortress island an hour before dawn?”
“Fifteen hundred,” Targa said.
“Good. I want you to divide your fleet,” Alexander said. “I need a transport group to deliver the soldiers to the island and an assault force to attack one of Zuhl’s ships. Who would you have command the assault fleet?”
“As much as I hate to admit it, that blasted pirate, Finley Raisa, is the best man for the job.”
Alexander smiled, laughing. “I haven’t seen Captain Raisa for a long time. Here’s what we’re going to do, Captain …”
Chapter 30
Alexander held on to Ratagan’s wyvern, leaning into the saddle and struggling to breathe, the wind roaring past his ears, the creature diving toward the sea below with a kind of speed that seemed entirely reckless. Then the wind slowed, stillness and crushing weight filling the void left by the absence of roaring. The world evened out, the ocean a few dozen feet below sliding by in the darkness.
The fortress island loomed above them as they floated through the night just above the waves, ocean spray kissing Alexander’s sweat-slick skin with increasing frequency. He sent his sight forward, searching for enemy sentries in the lowest level of the fortress, guards protecting the seawalls and docks. He found them acting according to their patterns … predictable.
He had scouted them, watched them, timed them. He knew where they would be, how they would react to an alarm, who would come by what route to provide support. He knew their plan because he’d spent time watching them execute their plan.
Horst came in first, coasting out of the light sea fog, causing the vapor to swirl as he passed into the lantern light. The guard was standing on a small watchtower, scarcely ten feet tall, located in the center of a sea wall that was currently unoccupied by any vessels. Horst’s wyvern flared its wings, thrusting its tail underneath itself and into the chest of the guard on the tower, yanking the man away from the seawall and flicking him into the surf, before landing silently.
Ratagan’s wyvern flared hard, landing softly a moment later on the seawall. Alexander patted Ratagan on the shoulder, then pulled his locking bolts loose and slipped off to the ground. Both Sky Knights quickly launched and turned in unison, silently coasting into the fog just yards over the wave caps.
Silence descended on Alexander. He reached out with his sight and found the enemy right where he expected them to be, two dozen men guarding the dock level, and only a two-man patrol close enough to matter. Zuhl was overconfident in his security.
He surveyed the seawall platform, twenty feet of level stone between the side of the fortress island and a twenty-foot drop to the water. It ran for a hundred feet in either direction before opening on each side into enormous enclosed docking facilities capable of housing dozens of ships. Three men guarded each enclosed dock.
Alexander opened the door to his Wizard’s Den. His formidable assault team filed out in turn: Chloe, Jataan, Anja, Jack, Lita, Amelia, Dalia, Bree, Kat, and twenty soldiers led by Lieutenant Carson. Alexander worried about the young officer’s enthusiasm, but he’d been the first to step forward when Alexander had asked for volunteers.
He motioned for silence, then he went to his magic circle, slipping into the firmament and projecting himself into the midst of his people, creating an image before them of the entire battlefield, the fortress island, all three enemy ships, and two friendly fleets—a troop transport fleet hugging the coastline, slipping by one of Zuhl’s three enormous warships, and an assault fleet comprised of faster, better-armed ships traveling in a broad arc that would bring them into weapons’ range of Zuhl’s outermost ship at dawn.
He pulled back, showing the two flights of Sky Knights and wit
ches flying to join the battle. Then he showed Zora, ridden by Abigail and Magda, floating high above the entire scene, waiting for their moment.
Finally, he narrowed in and showed the two guards strolling up the corridor just ten feet inside the fortress wall. Jataan remained in the threshold of the Wizard’s Den, nodding to Anja. She frowned briefly before drawing her broadsword and slipping off into the darkness.
Alexander watched her take up a position at the edge of an access corridor between the seawall and the interior corridor. The two men were oblivious to her presence. She waited until they reached her range, then swept out, taking the nearest man’s head in a stroke before bringing her blade back, one-handed, and cleaving the second man from the side of his neck to his lower ribs.
Alexander reached out with his sight, looking for any hint of a threat. Finding none nearby, he sent his presence to Captain Targa.
“Execute!” he said, fading out of sight and appearing before Captain Raisa.
“Execute!” he commanded, vanishing again, bringing his sight back to his physical location and searching for pathways leading upward. It took only seconds for the magic of his clairvoyance and the magic of his connection with the Reishi Keep to meld and give him a perfect mental map of the entire fortress island.
“Lieutenant Carson, you and your men will coordinate the landing,” Alexander said. “Everyone else, with me.”
He returned to his body, closing the door to the Wizard’s Den a moment after stepping out of it, stopping only to get his bearings before heading upward into the fortress.
Down a corridor, up a staircase, across another corridor and up another staircase brought them to yet another corridor. Alexander stopped at the top of the staircase, his friends crowding in just below him. He sent his sight forward. Three men sat at the end of a long hallway, fifty feet away.
“Are there others near those soldiers?” Jataan asked, after Alexander had described the situation.
“Two levels up and several hundred feet east, there’s a guard post with six men.”
Sovereign of the Seven Isles 7: Reishi Adept Page 34