by James Somers
Laish was the first to ask the question that was on my mind. “By what means, exactly, are we teleporting?” he asked. “I noticed how very subtle it was when you brought us from Highmore into the cavern. This last time seemed the same, but I’m just unfamiliar with the method.”
Connic nodded. “It’s actually quite simple, though I suppose Leprechauns are more adept with the method,” he explained. “Nearly all Leprechauns are spell casters, so we’ve come up with some of our own ways of doing things magically.”
My interest was piqued now. As a spell caster myself, I was always interested in new techniques. As with almost anything, there was more than one way to get the job done.
“One technique in use is the portal envelope,” Connic continued. “Now, of course, you’re familiar with wrapping oneself inside and transporting the whole through the spiritual plane.”
We all nodded. This was the way we were all familiar with teleportation. It was, in fact, the only way I had been trained.
“With the Leprechaun method,” Connic explained further, “the spell caster actually pulls two separate localities together—pairing them up on a dimensional level. Instead of walking from one room to another, we’re pulling the room to us, so to speak.”
“That’s why our surroundings appeared to fade subtly from one to the other?” I asked.
“Exactly,” Connic replied. “It requires no more energy to perform, it’s simply a matter of thinking differently about it—perspective.”
“I noticed that it seemed far less flashy,” Sadie said.
“True,” Connic said.
“The matter of light being warped as it refracts through the portal envelope,” I added. I looked at Connic appreciatively. “The Leprechaun way certainly has a stealthy advantage.”
“I suppose that only matters if one needs stealth,” Connic replied.
I wasn’t sure how to take that reply. Was he being coy? At any rate, the Shade King’s advisor left off the topic, turning our attention to our surroundings. I searched for a reference point at the palace and found that we had emerged in the city at a place closer than we had been before. The royal palace appeared to be less than a mile away now, whereas it had seemed several before.
Amazing. I gave Sadie a side glance that said everything: we would have to incorporate this Leprechaun method of teleportation into our repertoire. Any technique this smooth in transition just couldn’t be passed upon.
From here, Connic started us off on our trek through the city. I watched the streets where we were and found all manner of pedestrians. There were street performers entertaining small children, demonstrating rudimentary magic which some of the little ones reproduced in turn. In fact, a more cursory examination made it clear that these were masters with pupils on the street rather than entertainers. Still, they appeared to be having a great time with it.
All manner of shops were scattered along the roads which appeared to run in a grid pattern throughout the city. Foods cast inviting aromas into the air. Sounds of laughter and scenes of joy were to be found almost anywhere I laid my eyes.
This was such a new experience to me. I had lived within shadowy cold Greystone. I had visited many times at the majestic city of Tidus, the radiant Xandrea, as well as many human cities across the globe. However, I had never seen the kind of ubiquitous joy that was to be found here among the Leprechauns in Rockunder.
Tales might have blamed their happiness on a penchant for strong drink. But this wasn’t so prevalent as I might have supposed now that we walked among the people. I found that I also couldn’t help but smile along with them.
Above us, or rather below us ,if Connic was to be believed, the crowds mingled and shopped and played. All the way around the cavern wall Rockunder bustled with the antlike energy of its Leprechaun citizenry. And not these only. I noticed elves and dwarves also in abundance.
As an underground metropolis, I might have expected Rockunder to be attractive to the dwarves. Their own cities sprawled below ground in the mortal world much like Greystone had on the spiritual plane. However, the elves surprised me a bit.
Though there were many tribes of elves living throughout the world, I was only familiar with a few. The wood elves were common, dwelling mostly in the more temperate forests. And, of course, there were those who had been living in Xandrea under my grandfather’s leadership. But my studies had shown me at least twenty other groups in existence.
As we followed along after our guide, my grandfather and uncle conversed with the Leprechaun. I half listened to what they were saying, snatching interesting tidbits here and there. However, my focus remained on the city and its people. Sadie was doing the same. We hardly spoke at all—occasionally gesturing toward some point of interest.
I could not escape the feeling that someone was watching us. Though, obviously, we might attract attention being escorted by the Shade King’s advisor. But this seemed to be of a more sinister nature. My eyes continually swept the crowd, searching for the source of this paranoia. But I couldn’t find anyone who appeared to be a threat.
Perhaps, we were all walking into a trap. The Shade King would have his revenge on us for the humiliation we had caused him. Might there be Leprechaun warriors all around us, waiting to pounce at some preconceived signal, killing us here on the street for all to see?
I couldn’t convince myself of it. Revenge on Donatus and Laish, the peacemakers of our group? It seemed unlikely. Perhaps, if Brody had been invited to this summit, I could have believed it of the Shade King. Maybe, after so much trouble recently, I was just conjuring delusions.
Still, it never hurt to be cautious. In the event some unexpected attack did come, I was well armed. I kept weapons at hand in my dimensional pocket. Sophia did the same, keeping Malak-esh readily available in a similar space invisible to anyone but the user.
“Now, here is something that I thought you might be interested to see,” Connic was saying.
My attention reverted back to our guide at that phrase. He was right. This was very interesting.
A largely open space spread out before us—an intricate grid of short grassed squares, rectangles and circles connected by a network of paved walking paths. Upon many of these, warriors trained in various forms of combat. Swordsmen dueled with one or more opponents. Others sparred in hand to hand combat, using advanced techniques that I was familiar with.
Further to our right, archers lined up opposite a high wall with hundreds of target stands available. Volley after volley released in rapid succession—enough arrows to slay and army. Sadie watched them with rapt attention, sharing her mother’s passion and skill with a bow.
My skill set had always tended toward swords and knives. But my hands and feet were just as deadly. Still, it was hard to get distance out of one’s body like you could a dagger, an arrow, or a firearm.
We followed Connic along the walking paths, pausing at intervals to watch the combat. Sadie stayed right with me. I noticed now that it was Connic doing most of the talking, discussing the prowess of Leprechaun warriors in the various arts of war. For their part, Donatus and Laish spoke very little at this point. A nod here and there. An appreciative comment about a particular maneuver, or some such, but nothing more.
Sadie leaned into my ear. “Do you get the feeling he’s trying to impress us?”
I nodded slightly. Sadie was right. Connic seemed to have diverted our tour straight into the middle of the training grounds for their Leprechaun army. Clearly we were meant to fear the possibility of war with these people. His tactics were less than subtle. But none of us acknowledged it—least of all my grandfather and uncle. Their silence here made perfect sense now. They wouldn’t be intimidated.
I paused to take a closer look at the city’s illumination as we passed beneath one of its thousands of street lights. The glow of firelight from the gas lamp was too steady, the eminence too even. “Connic, sir, what kind of light is that?”
Connic looked up, smiling fondly. “Ah, yes,�
�� he said. “We Leprechauns have long used gemstones infused with sunlight. I suppose it would be impossible for other Descendants, since it requires so many precious gems to light an entire city.”
It was hard to deny the fact that the Leprechauns appeared to be extremely wealthy as Descendants went. After all, with Superomancey at our disposal, wealth seemed unnecessary. But the Leprechauns enjoyed their gold and silver and precious stones simply for the sake of having them. And they proudly displayed this wealth everywhere in Rockunder. A million tiny suns shone throughout the streets of the city, lighting the entire cavern with ease.
“Ah, Prince Liam,” Connic said, turning our attention to one of the nearby training quads.
We followed the Leprechaun advisor around several other groups sparring with wooden Bokkens. Sure enough, we found the Shade King’s son surrounded by a group of boy’s who were older and larger than him. All were dressed in loose fitting uniforms that allowed for ease of movement—a sand colored top and breeches. This seemed to be the uniform of choice for the training grounds.
Some of the older boys brandished weapons toward the prince. He had nothing but his hands to protect himself against whatever attack was forthcoming. Still, he looked entirely confident in the situation.
As we approached, the prince noticed Connic. Then his discerning eye fell upon me and Sadie, but particularly on me. I was reminded again of that day within the throne room of his father—a day of fear and humiliation. None of those emotions shone on his face now.
His sparring opponents seemed to notice his distraction. They chose this time to launch their joint assault upon the boy. He was slightly taller than me. I could only guess that he must be a little older, more like Sadie’s age, than my own.
He was a wiry sort and strong, from what I could tell. I couldn’t help but size him up against myself. Could I beat him, if it was him and me out there sparring? So far, I hadn’t seen anything about him that would lead me to believe otherwise.
After all, vampires are quite strong. And, grudgingly, I had to consider that I had received most of my training from Black in disguise. The fact was that he hadn’t neglected to do an excellent job of it. My parents had commented on the matter. And, even though they doted on their only son, I don’t believe they would have complimented Ishbe, or rather Black, for a job that was lax.
The first blow came at the prince and my attention was drawn back to the fight. Liam dodged this strike with a staff. Personally, I would have deflected it, as another boy was coming in with a wooden dagger. A nice forearm deflection would have sent the staff into the other boy disarming him nicely. But, perhaps, the prince didn’t have the strength to perform a maneuver like that without breaking his own arm in the process.
I smiled, maybe a little smugly. Sadie nudged me. I glanced at her, finding a glare that told me not to keep doing what I was doing. I raised my eyebrows as a token of my innocence, but she wasn’t buying into it. She knew me too well.
A boy with a pistol—surprising this—aimed the weapon at the prince. Liam’s attention had been on catching another boy’s wrist in a joint lock, but he was aware enough to catch the threat in his peripheral vision. While still holding the one boy’s wrist, the prince kicked back, sweeping under the weapon to make contact with the armed boy’s hand. The upward stroke of his foot jarred the weapon away and would leave the hand and fingers numb for a good ten minutes.
It was a nice maneuver. Not the way I would have handled the same situation. But there were any number of responses in any given situation. I had hoped he would pull the wrist-locked boy into the line of fire—assuming the pistol was fake.
Black had conditioned me to respond instantly without the need for calculation. He had taught me to move like water, flowing around obstacles. It had become second nature by now.
A kick came, but Liam was faster than his opponent. He kicked the boy at the inside of his knee, deflecting his opponent while hopping up to deliver his other foot into the side of the boy’s head. When the prince dropped, he did exactly what I would have done, going low to sweep the legs out from under his next closest opponent.
I smiled at that move in a complimentary way and noticed Sadie’s wry grin out of the corner of my eye. How could she know me so well? If it had been anyone else I might have worried that I was becoming too predictable. But I had known Sadie all my life. I had no memory of a time when she wasn’t my closest friend.
In less than sixty seconds, the fight was over. The prince was victorious, as I might have suspected he would be. After all, were we really meant to believe that Connic had not known the prince would be sparring out here? I could tell that the fight was real enough, but he hadn’t matched up with a group he didn’t know he could beat, obviously.
“Very nicely handled,” Donatus said as Liam came walking toward us.
Behind him, his sparring partners collected themselves from the ground. Several had nice welts and bruises forming. Even the prince had a few defensive wounds. I certainly couldn’t fault his victory, or his technique. He was good.
I couldn’t help wondering why that seemed to bother me a little bit. I didn’t even know him. Still, the looks we had exchanged foretold a rocky relationship to come. I realized then that I didn’t want it to be that way, and it didn’t have to be.
Stepping forward, I held out my hand, attempting to offer my own compliment. “I like your mix of styles,” I offered. “Wushu with a bit of Hapkido and Elfish Kalandra, if I’m not mistaken.”
The prince wiped sweat from the back of his neck with a towel. He glanced briefly at my proffered hand but did not take hold of it.
“And you are?” Liam asked.
I let my hand drop slowly, feeling a bit maligned. My grandfather gripped my shoulders from behind, giving them a slight squeeze for encouragement.
“Allow me to introduce my grandson, Cole,” he said.
The prince ran a cursory look over me before addressing Donatus. “He’s a vampire?”
“His mother was Greystone’s queen,” Donatus answered. “However, his father was my son, prince to Xandrea.”
The prince shot me another look. I could see that he didn’t care for vampires. Or, perhaps, he was just bothered to know that he wasn’t above me in station. I was a prince also. He had no right to look down on me in any way.
“A half breed?” Liam asked, attempting to make it sound innocent.
The prince turned to Sadie quickly, taking her hand as he bowed slightly at the waist. “And you, Miss—?”
“Sadie,” she said. “Another half breed, I’m afraid. My mother is the Lycan Queen. My father is the Superomancer who nearly killed your father.”
The prince straightened. “I’m apologize for my comment,” he said to her. “I meant no offense.”
Sadie cast a cold glare at him as he met her eye. “Yes, you did,” she said. “However, I’ll let is pass this time.”
Liam let go of her hand then, but delicately. He was a prince, after all. He would continue to follow decorum, even when it goaded him to do so. Strangely, his disrespect had remained on me, even when Sadie admitted that Brody was her father. I wasn’t sure what to make of this hatred aimed at me, when he had never actually met me in the throne room.
Connic quickly intervened as the situation threatened to take a nasty turn. “My lord, I’ve been instructed by your father to escort his guests through the city on a tour before we convene at the palace to discuss the possibility of a treaty.”
“Yes,” Liam said, still staring at me. “Father mentioned the matter to me yesterday. He requested that I should be present for these talks.”
“Then we can expect you to attend?” Connic asked.
Liam’s eyes flicked ever so briefly to everyone in our group, before turning to Connic. “Yes, I’ll freshen up and be along shortly,” he said.
“Very good, my lord,” Connic said before turning back to us. “We should continue our tour, if you’ve seen enough here.”
�
�Quite enough,” Laish said, casting his own glare at the Leprechaun prince.
Connic, looking a bit uneasy, started off again, leading us out toward the edge of the training grounds. We each fell in line behind him. However, I did spare a glance back at Prince Liam as we departed.
He shot me a patronizing glare, waving me along with his hand, as though I was a child who should toddle along after his mother. I fumed inwardly, but turned away to catch up to the others. I had no idea how to win over this Prince Liam Shade. And I was fast beginning not to care.
Black, in disguise as the elf informant, watched as the Shade King’s advisor, Connic, led his tour group of Descendants through the streets of Rockunder. Keeping his eyes and ears open to new developments had been easy enough, but Black was still disappointed with what he was hearing. Talk of peace was in the air, and it had everything to do with Donatus and his brother, Laish.
The showdown between Brody and Brian Shade in the king’s throne room, months ago, had pushed an already volatile situation to the very brink of war. His meager efforts to alarm the Shade King had been easy enough. After all, he was like any man—jealous of his power and possessions, unwilling to share simply for the sake of peace. All that had been necessary was to suggest that these refugees from England intended to take what Brian Shade felt rightfully belonged to him.
However, the months following Shade’s cowardice had not produced war. His willingness to tolerate the building of the town at Highmore was simply icing on the cake. Did this Shade King possess no spine? He wielded a great army, yet, so far, he refused to take action.
Black watched as the young prince sparred. This exhibitionism was growing tiring. Shade obviously hoped to gain some advantage in the negotiations by this—showing off his army as they trained. The boy showing off here had to be incidental. Still, there was something about him. He had courage.
Black could also see contempt in Liam’s eyes for the Descendants. Oddly, the boy seemed to have a particular dislike for Cole. Perhaps it was because the young vampire was so close to his age—a close male rival to vent his rage upon.