by M. L. Greye
“I could go with you.”
Will shook his head. “No, tell your grandfather what’s happened. Then, bring us the shimmer stone.”
Zedgry fumbled with a pouch under the chainmail at his hip and pulled out his Enblith. “I don’t think this will take you directly to the castle.”
It was what Will was afraid of. “Just get me as close as you can.”
“You’re going to need this.” Zedgry reached behind his head and brought back the pale blue steel Will couldn’t have been happier to see.
“Alonavess.” Will grasped onto the hilt of his sword. It felt like he hadn’t held it in years. “Send me to Avyrithe.”
: : : : :
The soft whoosh of his arrows being released one after the other was deafening to Legann. The noise was louder than all the shouts, roars, and shrieks that enveloped him. His concentration belonged almost entirely to his targets. It was beyond satisfying to feel a bow in his hands again. In Ethon, he’d done a few archery classes, but aiming at standstill targets had been far too boring. He’d thought about getting into hunting, yet never really did because he knew he’d end up talking to the animals rather than shooting at them. This skirmish in Evedon was sort of like hunting, though. He was mostly taking down Velvitor beasts.
When Dagon arrived with Lillie beside him and his Nagreth following, Legann wasn’t surprised at all to see Dagon’s men turn on the Eves immediately. He was a little startled by Dagon’s reaction, though. By the uproar Dagon seemed to be creating below Legann, it looked like the Nagreth were disobeying orders.
“Lord Legann,” a nearby Eve’s voice caused him to break his focus. “Should we attack the Nagreth?”
“Yes,” he nodded hastily, but don’t shoot the Heiress of the Velvitors.” Legann pointed to Lillie. “She’s an ally of sorts.”
As the Eveon archer left to spread the word to the others, Treveri raised an eyebrow at Legann. “Of sorts?”
“Olinia made a deal with her.” Legann shrugged.
He returned his attention to his bow, striking down any foe that came close to the castle. Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to keep the rhythm of his flying arrows for long. Once again, he was interrupted, this time by Caiden.
“Is that Captain Sazx?”
“Where?” Legann strained to see where she was pointing.
It was Sazx. Even from this distance Legann was able to recognize him. He was facing a figure in violet, surrounded by a circle of humans – dressed as Ethons. Legann stared.
Suddenly, the Ethons and Sazx collapsed. They weren’t the only ones, either. Every Nagreth on the field fell. What was going on? Sazx was the first one back to his feet. He challenged the violet robed man in the center of the fallen Ethons.
“The Nagreth are no longer gray!” Treveri exclaimed.
“What?” Legann blurted, his eyes darting over the whole battlefield. He couldn’t spot a single gray face. “You’re right.”
Legann wasn’t entirely certain about what was going on. What could have possibly changed all of the Nagreth at once? Was Dagon dead now? He tried to find his uncle below him, but his eyes found Sazx instead. The man he was fighting was shaking – he was about to phase. On impulse, Legann released three arrows into the man’s shoulder, and Sazx swiped off his head. Even though Legann still slightly resented Sazx for making-out with his sister during Will’s absence, Sazx couldn’t say he didn’t ever help him.
The howls and screeches of many animals filled the air as the Velvitors cried up towards the sky. Legann blinked and then saw each Velvitor turn to a figure with short, spiky white hair. He realized with a start who Sazx had just killed. King Talik was dead. This meant that Lillie was now the Velvitor Queen. Her subjects were looking to her for instruction.
Lillie, who had stayed in basically the same location as when she’d arrived, raised her sword high above her head and let loose a Sinith behind her. She then disappeared through the open portal, followed by the few Velvitors she’d pledged to Dagon. The remaining Velvitors ran toward the portal, abandoning the battle. Lillie must have ordered a retreat.
“Let them leave,” Legann called out to his archers. “Our enemy has shrunk. Focus on the Nagreth.”
“What about them?” Once again, Caiden was pointing.
The Silver Heart had a sharp eye. The Ethons were making their way toward the castle, tossing aside whoever stood in their way. What surprised Legann, though, was that at their front, two figures rode atop an Eveon mount in Other World garb. If Legann hadn’t known any better, he would’ve thought the girl on the back of the horse was Hillary.
“Don’t shoot them,” Legann replied, frowning. The Ethons were left behind by the Velvitors, so they must not be valuable anymore. They were most likely heading to the castle for asylum. Someone needed to make sure they were allowed inside.
Legann slung his quiver and bow over one shoulder. “I’ll be right back,” he shouted.
Before anyone could stop him, Legann sprinted for the stairs down to the courtyard. He nearly slipped halfway down but managed to catch his balance, avoiding some sort of embarrassing catastrophe. At the bottom, he went straight for the guards of the castle gate.
“Open it!” He yelled, panting a little.
“Are you daft?” The nearest Eve blurted, staring.
None of the gatekeepers recognized him. What was the use of being High Royalty when no one knew who he was. Legann cursed. “I’m Legann Reien, Lantz of Caprith and Evedon. Just open the gate!”
That seemed to work. The Eves jumped into motion, and the gate was open in seconds. Legann faced the void with an arrow nocked. If anyone other than the Ethons tried to get within the castle walls, they would be shot. Fortunately, no one attempted to do so. A moment later the horse leading the Ethons popped into view.
Legann blinked. “Porter?”
Even though Legann had never personally met the man, he’d seen Porter’s face in Olinia’s head. What was he doing here, dressed as an Eve? If he came with the group Talik brought with him, then he should be in Ethon clothes, too. Legann felt like he was missing something, but he didn’t really have time to mull it over. Porter was to the gate. Legann stepped to the side, keeping his bow aimed at the battle, as the Ethons rushed inside.
“Is that everyone?” He shouted in Saerdian.
“Yeah, this is all of us,” Hillary’s voice called out in reply.
Legann risked a quick glance over his shoulder to confirm he’d heard Hillary. Her presence was more surprising than Porter’s. Yet, there she was – dismounting the horse from behind Porter and in an Eveon gown of soft yellow.
“You can shut the gate again,” she told him.
“Do as she says,” Legann nodded to the Eves.
As they obeyed, Legann lowered his weapon and turned to the cluster of Ethons. Most were gawking where they stood. Porter and Hillary, on the other hand, seemed unconcerned about their location. Legann realized with a start what Hillary was holding.
“Where did you get that?” Legann stared at the shimmer stone.
“From your sister,” she said.
“Why?”
Hillary forced a smile, but it ended up looking more like a grimace. “It’s to get us home.”
She turned away from him and slid her hand through the air. The thin sliver of a portal emerged in her wake. She motioned for the Ethons to go in. One by one they tentatively walked through until only Porter and Hillary were left.
“I can take the stone for Olinia,” Legann offered.
“No,” Hillary shook her head. “She made me promise to only hand it over to her when she goes back to my world.”
Legann frowned. “I get the feeling I may have misjudged you.”
“Good. I didn’t like being known as a DS brat.”
He chuckled. “It’s too bad I couldn’t have known the real you.”
“You still could,” she replied. “Come back with your sister.”
With that, she stepped through the portal,
not waiting for a response. Porter nodded his head in farewell and followed after her.
: : : : :
Olinia’s heart thundered inside of her chest as Dagon dragged her backwards by her hair. Evedon gave way to dark stone walls. The only light came from several torches on the wall, ten or so feet away. She squinted, trying to make her eyes adjust quicker. She couldn’t see a thing.
Dagon released her and summoned his Sinith to return. Olinia didn’t wait for Dagon to catch it before shoving him backward through the use of her internal force. Dagon staggered back a few feet but regained his footing fairly easily, yanking his sword free of its scabbard. He plunged it forward, meant to jab Olinia, but she’d stepped back. To her horror, another figure took her place just as Dagon’s portal snapped shut.
Sazx’s sword clanged to the floor as he doubled over. Dagon’s blade had sliced him through his middle. Olinia gaped as Dagon pulled his sword free and Sazx crumbled.
“No!” Olinia cried, dropping down beside him, too stunned to fully comprehend what had just occurred.
The former Nagreth stared up at her as he gasped, struggling for air. “I’m sorry, princess.”
“Why are you apologizing?” Olinia breathed, her throat burning as she fought to hold back tears. Sazx was dying. She could feel it. “You came to save me.”
“I failed.”
She shook her head. “This is my fault.”
“I chose this. I chose you.”
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
He didn’t seem to hear her over his own wheezing. “Olinia,” he managed to croak out. “Reclaim your birthright…”
As his voice trailed off, Olinia released a single sob. He was gone. “Oh, Sazx.”
“It is almost poetic that he should die in the world he once controlled,” Dagon commented. His voice was so indifferent that it sent a chill down her spine.
“May his name never be forgotten among the worlds,” she said softly, lifting her hand from Sazx’s middle. In the flickering light of the torches, her bloodstained fingers shimmered.
Olinia could feel herself trembling, but it wasn’t the time to grieve. Slowly, she balled her hand into a fist and stood before facing her uncle once more. “Why are we here, Dagon?” She asked, her voice low, barely able to contain her growing anger.
“This was once the Dark,” he told her. “But, prior to that, it was Avyrithe Castle. This was where your journey of life began, and this is where it shall end, coming full circle.” He grunted. “You shall be known as the princess who almost became queen. I will use you as an example of what happens to those who defy me.”
She smirked. “Then what will be said of you when you fail? Will you be the fallen Eve who lost to the Wend he never could quite kill?”
Dagon tossed a dagger at her chest. Olinia didn’t even blink. The dagger froze mid-air less than a foot away from her. She’d predicted his move before he’d reached for the blade. “You won’t be able to hurt me so easily,” she warned, glaring past the dagger.
“I had assumed as much.” He raised his sword from his side. It was still red with Sazx’s blood. “Shall we begin?”
Olinia plucked Dagon’s dagger out of the air with one hand and with the other she yanked free the knife in her belt. Will had urged her to put it on earlier. She’d have to thank him for it later, assuming there would be a later.
Before she really had time to think, Dagon was to her – his blade whistling down on her. She barely managed to block his blow with both of her blades. In that brief instant where they paused with their steel connected and eyes locked, Olinia realized it was very likely that she might die.
For a recently one-armed man, he was far quicker and stronger than she would have anticipated. Her arms had buckled under his force. The only way she’d kept his sword from hitting her had been to shove him back with her gift. She couldn’t keep doing that, though. It required more energy than she wanted to use. She would tire long before Dagon if she were to keep that up. No, what she needed in order to beat him was speed. Her slight frame could not out-muscle his. Not to mention, she had very little training in swordplay, and he had generations of it.
In order for her to survive, she’d need to move faster than he did. She’d need to predict his next attack, just as she had done with the dagger. Olinia winced, knowing full well what had to be done. She would enter the mind of the man who had destroyed her childhood and murdered her parents. It was the only way to know exactly what he planned to do next.
Gritting her teeth, Olinia urged her own mind into the expanse of Dagon’s. She was lucky. His mental barriers were far weaker than what she’d expected. Sazx’s mind had been harder to find than her uncle’s. She slid into Dagon’s thoughts easily. Either his barriers had grown weak with disuse or her gift really had grown stronger during her time in Ethon.
As Dagon shoved his blade off of hers, causing her to stumble slightly, Olinia found herself a little disappointed at the rate her uncle’s mind moved. His devious past led her to imagine his mind would be similar to Archrin’s – crisp, calculated, and unnaturally swift. She’d been wrong to expect it. Dagon’s brain was average compared to others she’d listened in on. Olinia couldn’t help but smile a little. He was mortal.
She saw his next move in his mind’s eye. When he swung for her shoulder. She ducked just inside his reach, slipping around his side. As she did so, one of her blades accidentally slid across his thigh, just below his chainmail, and drew blood. Dagon grunted and Olinia sensed his pain. She took a step backward, raising her daggers once more.
“I may have underestimated you,” he commented. “You aren’t entirely helpless.”
“Far from it.”
He dove for her again, and Olinia reacted, managing to stay out of the path of his sword within a heartbeat of it crashing down onto her. They continued on in this way for what felt like forever to Olinia. It was as if it were a sort of dance. Dagon would advance and Olinia would retreat one way or another. Somewhere along the way, Dagon had ripped her dress from her knee to mid-calf, leaving a thin red line up the side of her leg where his sword had meant to do much more damage. Olinia had hardly realized he’d done so, though. She was far too focused on keeping herself one step ahead of Dagon’s blade.
Dagon moved out of instinct mostly, leaving Olinia only seconds to react. She had no idea how to defeat him. Flinging him against the wall had crossed her mind, but she never seemed to have enough time to do so between his attacks. He wasn’t gripping onto her skin, so she couldn’t burn him, and if she were to somehow find a moment to create an earthquake, she had no guarantee that she could escape the crumbling castle before it crushed her as well. She was stuck dueling her uncle until one of them faltered. Unfortunately, the odds weren’t really in her favor.
On Dagon’s next strike, Olinia shuffled sideways to avoid a blade in the stomach, but her heel caught on a slightly raised stone in the floor. Unable to regain her balance, Olinia plummeted backward and her daggers clanged onto the floor beside her. Dagon saw the opening. As he swung downward, Olinia thought she’d seen her own death in his head, but his sword never finished the blow.
Will had run into Dagon’s path, blocking the strike with Alonavess, and leaving Dagon’s chest vulnerable to Olinia. For once, Olinia acted out of her own instinct. She flew the nearest dagger into her outstretched hand and plunged it into Dagon’s chest, sliding it between the thick links of his chainmail.
The clatter of Dagon’s sword hitting the floor reverberated through the dungeons as he gasped. Will glanced down at Olinia, his face a little stunned. Olinia ignored him as she rose to her feet. Dagon reached for the knife’s hilt, but his fingers never found it. He collapsed backwards.
Olinia stood there silently for a moment, watching the life drain from Dagon’s open eyes. She was vaguely aware of Will putting his arm around her. Then, softly, she said, “Goodbye, uncle.”
23
------------------
It amazed Will
what had been accomplished in just three months. The Eves had really outdone themselves for their future queen. The last time Will had stood on the front steps of Avyrithe Castle, it had been a depressing, dilapidated mess – a reminder of its troubled past and almost two decades of sorrow. What he saw today, though, was a complete transformation.
All the vines had been pruned and the weeds removed. The paths were mended and walls patched. Shattered windows were replaced and crisp new flags in the colors of Caprith with the Balnorrean Knot stitched into their middles flapped from every tower. The castle had been rebuilt both inside and out. It was now fit to be the home of Caprith’s new sovereigns.
“You still sure you want to do this?” Dallyn asked in Eveon.
Will turned and found Dallyn and Olinia’s brothers joining him on the steps. Zedgry grunted. “Why? Did you come up with an exit strategy?”
“As if he’d want to bail now,” Legann retorted.
His use of Ethon slang made Will smile as he answered back in Eveon. “With this kind of turnout, I don’t think I’d be allowed to leave even if I wanted to.” He tossed a quick glance out at the crowd below them.
Legann chuckled. “Yeah, crazy how just one little skirmish could change the powers of the Other Worlds so much.”
Faint notes of music drifted up to Will and his companions, causing them to silently shift into their positions. The music was the signal that they were about to start. Will smoothed out the front of his silver tunic and clasped his hands behind his back as Dallyn and the brothers did the same behind him. He then gazed out toward the castle’s gate, finding himself suddenly anxious.
In front of him, two rows of chairs, divided down the middle by a royal blue carpet that led up to the stairs, were filled with familiar faces. Behind them, hundreds of Capriths dressed in their finest attire, stood chatting with anticipation. Will wasn’t the only one to have noticed the music.
Will fought the urge to straighten his tunic again by distracting himself with the faces of those in the white chairs. In the very front, by the aisle, Archelda and Yrond sat smiling. Within the next week or so, Olinia’s grandparents were to make their first trip to their former world of Balinorre in generations. Following Dagon’s death, Zedgry led a vatte or so of Eves into the Vrenyx and rather peacefully reclaimed Balinorre. There was talk in Yrond’s Council of rebuilding the once great city that Will’s great-grandmother single-handedly destroyed, but Yrond and Archelda wished to revisit the world before making any final decisions.