Sovereign of the Seven Isles 7: Reishi Adept

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Sovereign of the Seven Isles 7: Reishi Adept Page 52

by David A. Wells


  “Shame it doesn’t work on you,” Tyr said, drawing a dagger, “but this will.” One of his men yanked Isabel to her feet, turning her so she could watch Alexander die.

  “Leave him alone!” she shouted.

  Tyr leered at her. “Him I’ll gut, you I have other uses for.”

  Alexander scanned the battlefield quickly, smiling to himself when he saw Lacy. She had her eye on the prize. Three steps, then two, blade out and ready, last step and a clean lunge, driving the long curved blade into Phane’s back, through his heart and out his chest.

  His eyes went wide. Stunned confusion transformed into sudden awareness. Lacy twisted the dagger and yanked it out, stabbing him again, pushing him forward and driving him to the ground. She landed on top of him, plunging the point of the dagger through his body and into the dirt. She drove the dagger into him again, over and over, screaming and crying as she railed against him and everything that he stood for.

  The High Overseer saw Phane go down and seemed to make a decision, visceral fear shining in his colors. Having been possessed by a shade himself, Alexander understood how the man felt.

  “Retreat!” he shouted to the rest of the Acuna wizards.

  Jataan came out of the Wizard’s Den, a bit groggy, not quite fully healed, but awake and armed. He saw Tyr standing over Alexander and threw his dagger at the pirate lord, hitting him in the ribs just behind the upper arm, driving the point of his blade into Tyr’s heart. He stiffened, looking surprised for a moment before his eyes went blank and he fell over.

  Isabel hit the pirate holding her with an elbow, followed quickly by a force-push that launched him ten feet into the air. She looked for a blade on the ground as three more pirates converged on her. Jataan got there first, taking his dagger from the fallen island king and standing his ground between the pirates and Isabel.

  They stopped, looking at him, laughing among themselves as they advanced, murder in their eyes. All three attacked at once. He cut one’s throat, sliced the second across the inside of the arm, and stabbed the third in the heart before they knew what had happened. All three fell, dead or dying.

  Isabel scanned for a threat. She felt a wave of relief and triumph wash over her when she saw Phane down with Lacy on top of him, her dagger buried to the hilt in his back. Then she saw Alexander and her triumph crashed into despair.

  He lay still. Not breathing.

  “No, no, no, no,” she said, scrambling across the patch of dirt separating them.

  Chloe was sitting on his chest crying.

  “It feels like he’s gone, like his mind is gone, but I know it’s not,” she said. “It can’t be.”

  “Don’t you leave me,” Isabel said, laying her hands on him, tears falling freely. She threw open the portal to the realm of light and held up her love for Alexander to the Maker himself, showing him her most precious and treasured possession. She closed her eyes and poured her love and the Maker’s healing light into Alexander, letting the light of creation itself flow through her into his broken and drained body.

  A blade passed close to her … she ignored it, focusing instead on giving light to Alexander, letting it fill him and restore him. After a few moments, she knew instinctively that she’d done all that she could. She opened her eyes to a pitched battle, Jataan and Anja on one side, both injured, and dozens of Phane’s soldiers on the other.

  Jack stabbed a soldier that tried to slip into the Wizard’s Den, flickering into sight momentarily and shouting out in pain with the sudden exertion of the attack before vanishing again. Lacy raced up to Isabel; she crouched down and looked over her shoulder.

  “Men are after me,” she said urgently.

  “Help me get Alexander into the Wizard’s Den,” Isabel said, taking him by the wrists. Jataan saw what they were doing and moved to protect them from a cluster of soldiers closing in on them, fending off two attackers, killing each with brutal precision. Just as Isabel and Lacy had gotten Alexander inside the door, they heard Anja cry out.

  Isabel looked up and saw her flat on her back with a soldier sprawled out on top of her. Isabel started to get up, to go to her aid, when the soldier licked Anja’s face up the side of her cheek.

  With a howl of rage that morphed into a roar, she transformed into a glistening, furious red dragon. The man scrambled away as she took her true form, but not quickly enough. She whipped her tail around, hitting him broadside, knocking him off the cliff thirty feet away.

  A moment later, waking at the sound of Anja’s roar, Tasia shot through the door, scrambling past Alexander, Isabel, and Lacy with fluid grace, transforming into her true form the moment she was through, bounding between Anja and the largest cluster of enemy soldiers and breathing a gout of flame that singed meat from bone in seconds, leaving forty men dead.

  The rest of the soldiers froze, suddenly confronted with two dragons, paralyzed by disbelief until Tasia breathed fire into another twenty men, leaving every one of them burned black to the bone across the entire front of their bodies.

  The rest broke and ran, fleeing for the edge of the cliff. A few of them even made it.

  Epilogue

  Alexander woke to a pair of beautiful green eyes staring down at him. She blinked a few tears free when he opened his eyes.

  “You’re back,” she whispered.

  “You saved me,” he said.

  “You saved me first,” she said, lying down on his chest and crying like a baby.

  He drifted off to sleep holding her and woke with her in his arms. He felt good, stronger than he had in days. He didn’t hurt anymore. He sent his sight into his leg, searching for the deformity in the bone, but finding it smooth and straight, as if it had never been broken.

  He opened his eyes with a smile and it suddenly hit him.

  His vision was healed—not his magical vision, but his eyes. Isabel’s light had made him whole again in more ways than one.

  Jataan was standing in the doorway. Lita and Jack were on cots, both asleep.

  “Report,” Alexander said without getting up. Isabel mumbled something and nuzzled in closer to him.

  “We’re secure in our position,” Jataan said. “Zuhl’s army has regrouped a league away and appears to be holding position. The Regency Army is fleeing south with a regiment of Rangers harassing them. Lita said that the taint in her wound was gone, so I gave her and Jack the last of the healing potions. Lord Abel presented himself and a prisoner to a Ranger patrol. They arrived a few minutes ago.”

  “I’d like to see them both,” Alexander said.

  “I’ll see to it,” Jataan said.

  “Are they awake?” Wren asked, peeking inside.

  “There she is,” Jack said from his bed, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he sat up and tested his wound, nodding to himself.

  “Who?” Wren asked, a bit confused.

  “The greatest bard in all of the Seven Isles, of course,” Jack said with a mischievous smile.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Your song during the battle,” Jack said. “Pure genius. Every soldier who fought in this battle will remember it for the rest of their lives. Talk about capturing an audience.”

  “I … I was just trying to help Isabel.”

  “All the better,” Jack said. “Come, sit, I want to talk to you about a song I wrote for you.”

  A few minutes later, Abel entered, followed by a large man dressed in white dragon-plate armor. The man was missing his left hand just above the wrist.

  “Alexander, I’m glad to see that you’re recovering,” Abel said.

  “I’m glad to see that you’re yourself again,” Alexander said.

  Abel nodded with a haunted look, shaking it off a moment later and turning to his prisoner.

  “I give you General Kergen, Zuhl’s most senior military officer. Peti had him under her power just like me and she brought us both here with that horrible spell she cast. After she died, Kergen tried to take me and lost a hand for it.”

  “Nic
ely done,” Alexander said, sitting up in bed.

  Isabel woke and looked around bleary-eyed. “What’s happening?” she mumbled.

  “I think I’m about to avoid killing half a million people,” Alexander said.

  ***

  Alexander stood in the center of Fellenden’s Gate platform, the Sovereign Stone resting on his tunic and the Thinblade in its scabbard. Zuhl’s head was mounted on a pike driven into the ground a few feet from the stairs leading up to him. Tasia was to his right and Anja was to his left, both crouched like cats in their true form on either side of the Gate. On the Zuhl side of the Gate were Ixabrax and Zora.

  A steady stream of soldiers filed past, averting their eyes to avoid looking directly at any of the dragons. After Alexander had fully explained the options available to General Kergen and shown him the black slime, complete with a demonstration, Kergen seemed a bit taken aback. He fully expected that Alexander would kill his entire army if given the chance, so when Alexander, with the help of a few dragons, insisted instead that he lead his men home, he quickly agreed.

  Alexander had never been so relieved.

  He stood there all day, his eyes never wavering, his vision examining every nuance of the barbarians’ character. He looked right through them as they passed and they knew it. They knew that they were being judged, and not just by him. Four dragons stood in terrifying judgment as well.

  After the last of Zuhl’s soldiers had left Fellenden, late into the night, Alexander bid Ixabrax and Zora farewell and watched them fly off into the moonlit night together before he closed the Gate to Zuhl.

  ***

  Lacy stood on a grassy rise on the side of a rolling, forested hill. It was a perfect spring day with white clouds and a cool breeze. A stone casket rested before her. A jeweled tiara was fastened into the black lace veil she wore.

  She looked out over the crowd of assembled guests, people of great importance who had traveled from all around the Seven Isles as well as commoners from every part of Fellenden.

  Wren poked her in the leg from behind the podium and held up a simple gold ring, nodding for her to put it on. Lacy had decided long ago that there were people she trusted in this world and Wren was one of them. She slipped the ring on her finger and took a breath.

  “I didn’t know Master Anatoly Grace, but I did know a few of the people who loved him. These people don’t give their love or their trust lightly, but when they do, they give it completely.

  “That’s why I wasn’t surprised when I heard about the sacrifice that Master Grace made to save so many of our people. He didn’t hesitate. He didn’t run. He did his duty. He used the power he was given to protect the innocent. No greater thing can be said of a man.”

  Alexander took a deep breath to steady himself, tears flowing freely down his cheeks. He was standing in a line with his father and Hanlon. Conner, Torin, and Jack stood next to them in another line.

  “As a tribute to his honor and courage, Anatoly Grace will be interred in the Tomb of Fellenden’s Kings where he will rest among the most honored of our heroes.”

  A horn blew, forlorn and lonely in the silence. The cohort of six marched forward and lifted Anatoly’s casket. The horn blew again and they carried him into the crypt. A third and final horn blew as they passed out of the light, taking Anatoly to his final place of rest.

  ***

  “Wizard Oliver?” Jack said, hurrying to catch up. “I was wondering if I might have a word.”

  “How can I be of help?” Oliver asked, his eyes red and bleary, though no worse than Jack’s after listening to Lacy’s speech.

  “I understand that you were with Anatoly, I mean Master Grace, during his last days.”

  Oliver nodded, a bit of a haunted look in his eyes.

  “Would you tell me how he died? Anatoly was my friend and I want to write a song for him.”

  Oliver looked at Jack for a moment, more through him really. His eyes focused as he returned to the present moment and he nodded.

  “People should know what he did and why he did it,” he said. “I’d be honored to tell you the story of Fool’s Gap.”

  ***

  Alexander and Wyatt walked out ahead of Isabel and Ayela. All were somber. Jataan was well behind them, but ever vigilant.

  “It’s come to be called Trajan’s Rock,” Isabel said, stopping well away from the house-sized stone, half buried in the ground. “People come here in the hopes that they will feel different when they touch the rock. It’s a way for some to convince themselves that they have magic.”

  Ayela smiled sadly. “It was so senseless. He didn’t accomplish anything.”

  “No, but he gave his life trying to protect the world,” Isabel said. “That has to count for something.”

  “I’d just rather have him back,” she said, handing Isabel her bag filled with potions, powders, and concoctions before taking a moment to put her hand on the stone and say goodbye to her brother.

  ***

  At first, Alexander thought it was a good idea, combining weddings and coronations. Jack and Abigail were getting married and Wyatt and Ayela were getting married, which meant that both Jack and Wyatt would have to be crowned as well.

  One ceremony had seemed like a better plan to Alexander at first. Get it all done at once. But then it grew into something that he couldn’t control, mostly because Isabel was there protecting it like a mama lion. She threw herself into all of the frivolous things that she’d never bothered with growing up. Now that the world was back to some semblance of order, or at least the enemies that they faced didn’t threaten the whole world at the moment, she was having fun.

  Alexander couldn’t fault her for that, but he could hide from all of the bustle, which was what he was doing on the observation deck of the Reishi Keep when Kelvin found him.

  “It looks to be a grand party,” he said.

  “I like the way it looks from a distance a lot better,” Alexander said.

  Kelvin chuckled, looking down at the tents and flowers on the grounds below.

  A light and clear voice rose up to them, carrying easily.

  Alexander looked quizzically at Kelvin.

  “I gave her the ring,” he said. “She came to me just before the battle, a waif of a thing, asking to borrow my ring so that she could ride into battle for Isabel. She told me how her singing had brought Isabel back from the brink of darkness before and how she thought it would again … if only Isabel could hear her.

  “I told her that I would loan it to her if she would sing for me. By the end of the song, I gave her the ring. A voice like that should be heard … and I can always make another.”

  Alexander nodded with a smile. “She’ll make good use of it.”

  “The wizards are all moved in,” Kelvin said after a few minutes of easy silence between them. “I’ve been thinking about the device you suggested and I think it’s entirely possible, provided we can find a gem of sufficient quality and clarity. I’ve sent a request to Wizard Jahoda that he begin looking.”

  “Good. I want the Wizards Guild to always have the benefit of my sight when selecting candidates for the trials. We can’t afford to let magic fall into the wrong hands ever again.”

  “I agree completely, though I would like to expand our ranks. More magic in the world has the power to change lives for the better.”

  Alexander nodded agreement, staring at the party below.

  “Lucky just arrived,” Kelvin said.

  “Well, why didn’t you tell me?” Alexander said, hurrying off with a boyish grin on his face.

  “I suspect you’ll find him near the food,” Kelvin called out after him.

  ***

  “Dinner will be ready soon,” Isabel said.

  Alexander could see her in the kitchen of their little cottage in the foothills of Glen Morillian. He was inside his Wizard’s Den with the door open in the middle of their living room.

  “I won’t be long,” he said. “I just want to check on Varis.”


  “Is he the one on Tyr or Andalia?” Isabel asked.

  “Tyr,” Alexander said, settling in to meditate, slipping into the firmament with ease and flitting across the world to a medium-sized and heavily fortified keep on the coast of the southernmost isle of Tyr. A small fleet of ships was anchored in the protected harbor.

  He slipped into the council chamber of Lord Varis, watching and listening as he and his men made plans to attack and raid a fishing village to the north. They were planning to steal their catch, of all things.

  Alexander appeared behind him. All of the rest of the men in the room were startled but Varis just kept talking.

  “Once we have their food, we can make them work for us if they want to eat—”

  “Unlikely,” Alexander said.

  Varis, a greasy man with black hair and a gaunt, pockmarked face, scrambled out of his chair and drew his long dagger, pointing it at Alexander.

  “I’ve been watching you, Varis,” he said. “Up until now, you haven’t violated the Old Law too egregiously, but if you do this, you will have crossed a line.”

  Varis’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not even here. Everybody knows that you’re just an illusion.”

  Alexander sighed, shaking his head. He turned to the rest of the men in the room.

  “Yes, I am an illusion … this time. If I have to come back, I’ll leave with all of your heads. In fact, you would all do well to distance yourselves from this one.” He pointed at Varis. “I’ll be watching him.”

  Most of the men in the room couldn’t get out fast enough, leaving Varis holding his dagger and staring at Alexander.

  “You’re not even here,” he said.

  “No, I’m not,” Alexander said. “Be thankful for that.”

  He returned to his body and strolled out into the kitchen, kissing Isabel on the neck.

  “What’s for dinner?”

  ***

 

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