by David Wells
Alexander laid the Stone against the palm of his right hand as he held the chain with his left. It felt warm to the touch. It was exquisite in size, color, and craftsmanship—but mostly the aura of magic surrounding it was intense.
Then it pulsed with bright red light.
Alexander wasn’t sure if it was the light of its aura until Lucky gasped. The intensity of the light grew until it seemed to be all-encompassing. It filled him up and surrounded him until there was nothing but blood red light.
Then he was standing in a chamber without walls or a ceiling. There was a round table with seven chairs. Each was occupied, save one. Each of the men seated around the table were looking at him with a mixture of curiosity and appraisal. Alexander scanned their faces and saw that each of them had one feature in common.
Their eyes.
They were golden brown with flecks of gold in the irises.
Then he saw Malachi Reishi, and his wonder turned to fear.
Chapter 48
Alexander slumped to his knees, holding the brightly glowing Stone. After a moment of intense brightness, it diminished to a gentle, blood-red glow the color of the sunset. Alexander’s eyes were wide open, but they were vacant.
Chloe spun into a ball of light momentarily, then buzzed up to Alexander with a look of worry and fear. “My Love, where have you gone?” she asked plaintively.
Lucky knelt before him to examine his eyes. He looked closely, felt for breath and pulse, then shook his head in disbelief and confusion.
“I don’t understand. The Sovereign Stone is supposed to be tied to the Reishi bloodline the same way the Thinblades are tied to the bloodlines of the Island Kings. How can this be happening?”
No one answered. They were all more confused by the strange turn of events than he was.
A sudden cry of pain from the scout in the staircase leading to the level below demanded everyone’s attention.
A moment later, Jataan P’Tal was in the room.
He slipped past the spear of the Ranger guarding the top of the staircase and sliced deeply into the inside of his thigh. The man stumbled backward and fell with a strangled wail of pain. The General Commander moved with such precision and speed that the next Ranger who tried to strike him thrust into empty air. Jataan P’Tal rolled around him and deftly knocked him off balance so he fell into another Ranger who was bringing his bow up for a shot.
The giant came close behind followed by half a dozen Andalian Lancers. Jataan P’Tal scanned the room and saw Anatoly standing in front of Alexander and Lucky. Anatoly was holding his axe high in a ready guard and wore a mixture of grim determination and resignation.
Jataan P’Tal glided through the Rangers as if they were children standing before a trained soldier. He didn’t attack but simply avoided their strikes and moved past them in jerky spurts of impossible speed. One moment he was walking like a man with a purpose, the next he moved with the speed of an arrow just released from a bow.
When he was within range, Anatoly attacked. Jataan P’Tal darted inside Anatoly’s guard and rolled around him with the flow of the strike so the blade of the axe chased behind him as he moved. As he rolled around the big man-at-arm’s left side, he thrust his knife just below the ribcage. It wasn’t a kill strike, but it was debilitating. Anatoly followed the momentum of his swing around from right to left and toppled over, his grievous wound spilling blood onto the floor.
Behind them the battle raged. The giant wielded his war hammer with punishing effect and the Andalian Lancers wielded their swords and shields with well-trained precision. The Rangers divided into two groups, those in the center of the room engaging with spears and swords and those on the periphery firing arrows into the enemy.
As Lucky knelt in front of Alexander, Jataan P’Tal slipped past his right shoulder and raised his knife for a kill strike. Lucky looked up and saw the threat, but he wasn’t even close to fast enough to stop the battle mage.
Jataan P’Tal began his thrust.
The knife moved toward Alexander’s jugular—but halfway to its mark, it stopped. The expression on Jataan P’Tal’s face flashed from surprise to confusion to realization and finally settled on hope.
Chloe buzzed up to within a foot of Jataan P’Tal and shook her finger in his face. “You will not harm My Love or I will send you away into the aether where you will be trapped as a ghost for all time.”
He cocked his head and gave her a little smile before he turned to his men and commanded, “Stand down!”
The giant stopped in midswing and brought his hammer up onto his shoulder. The Andalian Lancers stopped their charge into the nearest group of Rangers and withdrew without breaking formation.
Lieutenant Wyatt called out, “Hold!”
His Rangers re-formed between the bulk of the enemy and Alexander. Wyatt pointed at Jataan P’Tal and the Rangers with bows all shifted to face him.
Alexander was still sitting on his knees with vacant eyes and the glowing Sovereign Stone clenched tightly in his hand. Chloe buzzed in a protective orbit around his head.
Lucky scrambled to Anatoly to treat his wound. He quickly dug into his bag, pulled out a jar of healing salve, scooped out the contents, and packed the thick ointment into the deep gash in his friend’s side.
Anatoly grunted in pain but didn’t protest or even try to move. Lucky’s face went white. Anatoly was one of his oldest friends, and he knew him well enough to know that he would never accept healing without some complaint. Yet he just lay still, trying to conserve his energy.
Jataan took a position in front of Alexander and faced the soldiers arrayed before him. He looked over at Lucky. “The wound is not immediately fatal. With attention he will recover.”
Lucky gave him a confused look before returning to his task.
Jack walked up to Jataan P’Tal with his hands out and open. “I’m Jack Colton, Master Bard of Ruatha—and I’m confused. For months you’ve hunted us, yet now, in your moment of triumph, you halt your attack. Why?”
Jataan smiled with a mixture of relief and purpose. “I am Reishi Protectorate. My highest duty is to protect the Reishi Sovereign, then to obey the commands of the Reishi Sovereign, and finally to preserve the Reishi line. The man behind me, whom I have hunted and come to view as a worthy adversary, is in the process of bonding with the Sovereign Stone.” Jataan stepped aside and motioned to Alexander. “I give you Lord Reishi, the Seventh Sovereign of the Seven Isles.”
In unison, Jack and the Andalian Lancers all said, “What?”
Before Jack could more clearly articulate his question, the Lancers started to advance toward Alexander.
The leader of the Andalians spoke as they moved in their tight formation with shields up and swords out. “The King of Andalia made a deal with Prince Phane,” he said. “We came here to kill the pretender and bring Phane the Stone.”
Jataan’s smile faded and he nodded to the giant. The moment the Lancers started moving, Wyatt signaled for his men to be ready. When they broke into a fast charge toward Jataan, Jack, and Alexander, the giant swung his war hammer into the right flank of the formation. It hit the shield of the first man with such force that it crushed his arm and propelled him into the man behind him. Two Lancers clattered across the floor and came to a halt at the feet of three Rangers who drove their short spears into them before they could regain their feet. On command, Lieutenant Wyatt’s archers fired into the now exposed flank of the Lancers and three more fell. Jataan slipped in with frightening speed and sliced the throat of the final man.
When he turned, Jack was standing in front of Alexander, looking at him with a curious expression. The Rangers were still on guard, watching Jataan P’Tal and the giant carefully.
“What about Phane?” Jack asked.
“Prince Phane is Reishi, but he is not the Reishi Sovereign,” Jataan said. “The one bonded to the Stone is the Reishi Sovereign.”
“So just like that, you serve the man you’ve been trying to kill,” Jack stated wi
th incredulity.
“My loyalty is and has always been to the Reishi,” Jataan said. “It would seem that the Old Rebel Wizard outsmarted us all. Had the Protectorate known of a living heir to the Sovereign Stone, we would have reconstituted the Reishi line millennia ago.”
“That’s the thing,” Jack said, still standing between Jataan and Alexander. “Alexander is Ruathan, not Reishi.”
“The Sovereign Stone says otherwise,” Jataan said.
A wyvern flew past the window of the tower room and roared. A Ranger posted at one of the other tower windows pointed off in the distance. “More wyvern riders are coming.”
Jataan quickly assessed the situation and turned to Jack. “We should move one level down. Lord Reishi is too vulnerable here.”
Jack frowned and looked to Lucky.
Lucky shrugged. “If he wanted to kill Alexander, he would have.”
Jack nodded and said, “Lieutenant Wyatt, have your men secure the level below and carefully carry Anatoly and Alexander downstairs.”
Wyatt nodded and directed his men to their tasks. Within minutes, they were one level down in a room with no windows. The only ways in were the staircases leading up and down.
Lucky took the healing potion from Alexander’s pouch and started toward Anatoly, when Jataan stepped in front of him.
“What have you taken from Lord Reishi?”
“A healing potion; it’s the last one we have and Anatoly needs it.”
“It is more important to save it for Lord Reishi,” Jataan said.
Jack stepped up, shaking his head. “If you truly do serve Alexander, then you should know he’ll kill you himself if you let Anatoly die. It’ll be hard enough for him to trust you as it is.”
Jataan frowned and reluctantly stepped aside. “I’m not sure this is the right decision, but I will defer to your judgment. You know Lord Reishi better than I.”
Lucky went to Anatoly and carefully made him swallow the potion before gently helping him lie down.
“He’ll be unconscious until morning,” Lucky said. “How long will Alexander be enthralled by the Stone?”
Jataan shrugged. “I don’t know. We will wait for as long as it takes.”
Lieutenant Wyatt cleared his throat and drew everyone’s attention. Jack smiled at the simple technique he’d used himself so many times in the past.
“Commander P’Tal,” Wyatt said, “how many men are in the other tower? Are they likely to attack? And do they have any wizards with them?”
“Seven men, six are Andalian Lancers, two with force lances. They are led by Vasili Nero. He is loyal to Elred Rake out of Headwater and is mostly an opportunistic thug. They have no wizards. It is highly likely that they are moving to rejoin forces with me and will attack once they realize that I no longer serve Phane.” Jataan spoke like a soldier giving a report. “They will approach from the level below. I would prefer to engage them there.”
“I agree,” Lieutenant Wyatt said.
He picked out eight of his remaining fourteen men and sent them downstairs to ambush the enemy. Jataan nodded at the giant, and he trailed along behind them.
“My lieutenant, Boaberous Grudge, is a good man in a fight,” Jataan said in explanation.
Not ten minutes later, the sounds of battle came from the floor below. It didn’t last long before the Rangers and Grudge returned.
“Four Lancers dead, Nero and the other two ran away,” Grudge reported to Jataan P’Tal. A Ranger nodded in confirmation to Lieutenant Wyatt.
Chapter 49
It had been several days since Isabel had been brought before the triumvirate of the Reishi Coven. Guards gave her food and water twice a day but otherwise they ignored her. She tried to engage them in conversation but they didn’t respond. They averted their eyes when she asked them questions and remained mute when she railed at them or insulted them.
Every day she sent her mind to Slyder and scouted the fortress island looking for any information that might be useful. She stopped by Abigail’s cell window at least once a day and tried to have what conversation they could given Slyder’s limitations.
She learned that Abigail had killed the two guards who took her to the triumvirate. When she started advancing on the three witches with one of the dead guard’s swords, Magda cast a spell and Abigail woke up in her cell with a splitting headache.
Three days after she arrived, Isabel saw at least two dozen wyverns leave the island heading northwest. She knew they were hunting Alexander, but she also knew that they hadn’t found him yet or they wouldn’t be sending reinforcements. She worried about him and wished again that she could send him a message. It would give him strength to know that she and Abigail were alive.
On the fifth day she was floating high over the fortress island in Slyder’s mind when two wyverns returned from the northwest. Not an hour later, four dozen wyvern riders launched from the fortress island and flew off to the northwest in formation. The size of the force both worried her and made her proud. Alexander had probably bested the two dozen they sent before and now they were sending an airborne army against him.
Somewhere in the distance she heard a cell door open, so she drew her mind back from Slyder. There were four guards, two with spears at the ready. The one who entered tossed a set of shackles at her feet.
“Put them on,” he commanded.
Isabel slipped her wrists into the iron rings and held them out for the guard to lock. He did so roughly, then dragged her by the chain from her cell. She watched the path they took and knew from the scuff marks on the floor that they were headed back to the chamber where she’d been questioned by the witches. Something had happened. She found herself thinking through every conceivable possibility, worrying about Alexander as she walked.
Abigail was already sitting in one of two chairs facing the triumvirate. Her hands were shackled behind her back and chained to the chair, and there were four men standing behind her with spears in hand.
Magda, Cassandra, and Gabriella were waiting. The guard directed Isabel to the empty seat but didn’t chain her to the chair.
She and Abigail shared a look. Abigail’s split lip was healing and her black eye had faded to yellow. She smiled.
“It’s good to see you,” she said.
“You too,” Isabel replied.
Magda pointedly cleared her throat and directed her gaze at them. Both Abigail and Isabel lifted their chins and returned her stare.
“We have verified some of what you’ve told us,” Magda said. “I paid a visit to Blackstone Keep and spoke with a Mage named Kelvin Gamaliel and a Ranger named Erik Alaric.”
“Did Erik look well?” Isabel interrupted, eager for any news of her family.
Magda frowned, clearly irritated by the distraction. “Yes, he looked well. He claims you are betrothed to the new King of Ruatha, a cattle rancher born Alexander Valentine and marked by Mage Cedric’s warning spell as a champion against Phane Reishi. He claimed that Mage Cedric hid the Ruathan bloodline and created the Rangers to protect and serve the House of Ruatha when it returned to claim the throne. He claimed that Alexander Ruatha has recovered the Ruathan Thinblade.” She shifted her gaze to Abigail. “Mage Gamaliel also told me that you are Alexander Ruatha’s sister by blood. Are these claims true?”
Isabel’s mind raced. She was trying to decide if confirming what the witches already knew would put Alexander in greater danger. She still didn’t know what their agenda was but she needed more information, so she decided to play along.
“Mostly,” Isabel said. “Alexander and I were married since my brother last saw us. Otherwise the information you have is correct.”
The three witches shared a look of serious concern. Isabel found herself wishing she could see people’s colors the way Alexander could.
Magda looked at Abigail. “Can you explain why Reishi blood flows through your veins?”
Abigail was stunned speechless. She looked to Isabel for help, but she was just as confused. Abigail sho
ok her head angrily.
“I was born Abigail Valentine and have only recently come to understand that my family descends from the House of Ruatha. I am not Reishi! The Reishi murdered my oldest brother. They are my enemy.”
“Yet the blood of the Reishi flows within you,” Cassandra said.
Abigail fixed Cassandra with a glare. “I’m not Reishi!”
Cassandra looked to the other witches, who both nodded. She took a deep breath as if marshaling her thoughts before she began. “The Reishi Coven was formed by Aliyeh Reishi, wife of Malachi Reishi, the last Reishi Sovereign. When she discovered that her husband had made bargains with the netherworld, she feared for the future of the Seven Isles. She stole the secret of Wizard’s Dust and had seven copies made, which she distributed, one to each of the Seven Isles.
“Malachi Reishi became so enraged at the theft that he declared war on all non-Reishi magic. In many ways, Aliyeh Reishi started the Reishi War, although certainly not intentionally.
“Her husband never discovered her treachery and she remained at his side, all the while working to aid the rebels and bring the war to an end. She knew better than anyone the evil in her husband’s heart.
“When Malachi Reishi was destroyed, she thought she had preserved the world until she learned that Phane had fled into the future by sealing himself away from the effects of time within his obelisk. He was her only remaining child, and she hated him; he had murdered her other children to ensure that he would be the only choice to succeed his father.
“She created this coven to prevent the Sovereign Stone from falling into Phane’s hands. In order to aid us in that task, she imbued the maternal line of the original members of our coven with the ability to recognize those of the Reishi bloodline.” Cassandra paused and fixed Abigail with her eyes. “You, and your brother, are Reishi.”
Isabel was dumbstruck. She had read the history of the Reishi War and much of what she knew, or thought she knew, matched Cassandra’s story. The part that made absolutely no sense was the idea that Alexander and Abigail were descendants of the Reishi. Her father was the Keeper of the Royal Bloodline; he was charged with protecting the secret of the Ruathan line. Even after Alexander arrived in Glen Morillian, her father never said anything about a connection to the Reishi.