Carnesîr kneeled next to Tallin and whipped the blade out of his thigh with a flick of his wrist. The effect was immediate, and Tallin felt strength rush back into his limbs. Carnesîr didn’t seem surprised by his condition.
Perhaps the elves have known about this weakness all along, thought Tallin. “Thank you, Carnesîr,” he said, between gasps.
“Glad to help,” said Carnesîr. The elf walked over to Skera-Kina and tapped her body with his foot. Skera-Kina didn’t move. Her body was twisted in a crumpled heap, and blood ran from her ears, mouth, and nose. “Is this wretched creature the one who caused all the trouble here today?”
“Yes,” said Tallin. “She’s a Balborite assassin named Skera-Kina. I’ve fought her before. She’s the one who killed King Mitca.”
“She looks… familiar,” said Carnesîr.
“How is Fëanor?”
“He’ll survive,” said Carnesîr. Tallin got up and recovered his dragon stone from the floor.
Amandila rushed into the room. “Please come quick! I can’t stop the bleeding. Fëanor needs your help.”
Carnesîr and Tallin returned to the oratory, where Fëanor lay on the ground, covered in blood. The giant hook in his chest had been removed, but the wound was awful, and he’d lost a great deal of blood. They all worked together to close the wound, and eventually Fëanor opened his eyes.
“What happened?” he said weakly.
“You were attacked by a Balborite assassin,” said Tallin. “If you had been a mortal man, you would have already been dead.”
“I came to check on Bolrakei, and I got hit from behind. I don’t remember anything after that.”
Bolrakei! Tallin had forgotten all about her. “The assassin was torturing Bolrakei when I found them. She’s still alive, but I’m certain she’s got a broken leg and a few other broken bones.”
“Let’s go take care of her then,” said Carnesîr, walking back into the corridor. When they returned to the torture room, they found Bolrakei exactly where they had left her: on the floor, still tied to a broken chair.
But Skera-Kina was gone.
Vengeance
Elias, Islar, and Nydeired arrived in Morholt before the others. It was an hour before dawn and rosy twilight illuminated the sky.
Look at that, said Nydeired. What happened to the land? There isn’t any grass.
“It’s a wasteland,” said Elias. “Where are all the trees?”
“It’s deliberate,” said Islar “Shortly after rising to power, Vosper sowed the land with salt to prevent the growth of anything that could hide approaching enemies. All the city’s food has to be carted in. The ground is dead. Nothing grows in this soil. It’s been like that as long as I can remember.”
Outside the city, there was a succession of shattered walls and barricades. These were left over from the Dragon Wars. Over the years, people had stolen bricks for use in other projects, but there were some that no one dared touch.
“Land over there,” said Islar, pointing to a high wall behind the city. “That’s the Wall of Tears.” Nydeired landed and crouched, hiding his body behind the wall as best he could.
“The others should be here shortly,” said Elias. “Are you sure this place is safe?”
“It’s the safest place outside the city that I know of,” said Islar. “No one comes here. Everyone is too afraid. They say it’s haunted.”
Broken chains and cracked bits of gray rock lay scattered on the ground. Elias reached out and touched the wall. Unlike the others, this wall was undamaged—none of the bricks had been removed. The bricks were a ruddy brown color. “Why do they call it the ‘Wall of Tears’?”
“Because hundreds of dragons died here. See the color of the bricks? That’s not paint. It’s dried blood.”
Elias jerked his hand back. His fingertips were tinged red. He quickly wiped his hand on his tunic. Elias scanned the ground again, and his eyes widened with horror. The chains… the broken pieces of gray stone… it all made sense.
Islar noticed Elias’ horrified expression. “I know what you’re thinking. It’s true. They’re dragon stones. They shatter and lose their color when the dragon dies. No one touches them, because it’s believed that the stones bring bad luck. There’s even stories that the dragons’ spirits come here at night to mourn their dead riders. That’s why they call it the Wall of Tears.”
“I would never have believed it, but my father told me that spirits are real. Have you ever seen one?” asked Elias.
“No. Not personally. But during my training, some of the older mages used to talk about it. Spirit conjuring is an uncommon gift. I’ve never met a human mage who could do it.”
“It’s an evil thing to trap a spirit,” said Elias.
“Yes, it is. It’s said that all necromancers have the ability to conjure, because they’re trapped spirits themselves. Spirit magic is the blackest magic there is. The spellcaster must force the spirit to do his bidding. The spirit is almost impossible to control, because of its rage.”
“Why risk it, if it’s so dangerous?” said Elias.
“Some spellcasters see it as a challenge. Controlling a spirit is exciting, I guess. Quite often, the spirit turns on the spellcaster and kills him. With the necromancers, though—they’re already dead, so conjuring spirits doesn’t frighten them.”
“Are all spirits evil?” said Elias.
“No, I don’t think so. Sometimes they appear spontaneously. During my training, we learned about a spellcaster that lost his wife and children in a fire. Overcome with grief, he called their spirits back to this world. The spirits didn’t harm him directly, but he wasn’t a true conjurer, and he descended into madness. He took his own life a short time later. No matter what the circumstances, spirit magic is always dangerous.”
Elias saw a shimmer of light as Charlight and Brinsop landed nearby. The others dropped their concealment spells and dismounted.
Sisren walked over to the wall and touched it. “I know this place. It’s been years since I’ve been here, but some things never leave you.” She hung her head. “Many of my friends died here in this godforsaken place,” she said, her voice barely a whisper, her cheeks wet.
“Is everyone ready?” said Rali. “The sun’s going to rise in about thirty minutes.”
“Rali’s powers aren’t strong enough to create a concealment spell, so he and Aor must go through the front gate,” said Sisren. “I’ll accompany them, just in case. Hanko can ride Charlight over the city walls, and Elias and Nydeired can do the same, approaching from the south.”
“What about Aor?” said Rali. “He’s so huge, and his tattoos will give him away.”
“Disguise him as a cripple,” said Islar. “Dress him in a heavy cloak and give him a walking stick. The tattoos can be covered up with soot. No one will look twice at a filthy beggar in Morholt. The capital is full of them.”
“Just one more thing. Sisren, it’s time you returned Hanko’s dragon stone,” said Elias. Hanko’s mouth dropped open with surprise.
“Elias, are you certain?” said Rali. “He’s still our prisoner.”
Hanko looked at Elias with pleading eyes.
“We can’t hope to defeat the emperor unless all of us work together as a team,” said Elias. “Hanko is stronger with his dragon stone, so it’s logical that he should have it. He’s already here. There’s no point in restricting his powers now.”
“I don’t trust him!” said Rali. “Once he has his stone, what’s stopping him from leaving? He’s supposed to return to Miklagard for his trial. Don’t give it to him. It’s too risky.”
“If we lose this battle, Hanko’s trial will be the least of our worries. Hanko attacked me because he was terrified of losing Charlight,” said Elias. “Now that Nydeired and I are bound together, I understand the fear he must have felt.”
“But he’s a traitor!” said Rali.
“I’m not excusing his crimes,” said Elias, “but we need to concentrate on what’s happening righ
t now, today. My father told me that the fate of the entire continent depends on this mission. If we fail, Vosper will destroy this land and all the remaining dragons will die. Hanko is smart enough to realize that the success of this mission is imperative to everyone’s survival, including his own.”
“I don’t agree with this, Elias. But you’re in charge of this mission. If you want him to have it, then you give it to him,” said Sisren. She handed the stone, still wrapped in paper, to Elias.
Elias unwrapped the stone and looked at Hanko, who could barely contain his excitement. “Here,” said Elias. “Take it.”
Hanko grabbed the stone from Elias’ palm, then kissed it. He placed the stone against his scarred chest and set the implant. His skin rose up to grasp the edges of the dragon stone, and it was done. Hanko closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, savoring the feeling.
“It’s been so long… thank you, Elias,” he said. Then he went over to Charlight, who was cooing softly with pleasure. They could finally communicate telepathically again.
“It’s settled then,” said Elias. “Sisren, Aor, and Rali will enter through the front gate. Hanko, Islar, and I will fly over the city. I’m strong enough to conceal Nydeired and Brinsop, as long as we can find a safe place to hide once we get over the walls.”
“No place in Morholt is safe,” said Islar. “But the aqueduct system may be a solution. The water runs through concrete channels and passes into covered catch-basins throughout the city. There’s a large one right outside Vosper’s palace. I used to play in there with some of the other boys when I was younger. The basins are big enough to conceal us, but only temporarily.”
“But won’t it be full of water?” asked Rali.
“This time of year, the basins are only a quarter full, so the water doesn’t even reach your waist. But if by chance they’re full… well, I hope you know how to swim.”
“It’s a good plan,” said Sisren. “It’s been years since I’ve been inside this city, but I can’t think of any place safer that would be large enough to hide Nydeired.”
“The sun’s rising,” said Rali. “We need to get moving.”
Aor put on a long cloak and stuffed the back with straw, creating a false hump. Then he covered his visible tattoos with a mixture of ashes, dirt, and water. Sisren found a dead branch nearby for his walking stick.
They walked toward the front gate with Aor trailing behind them, faking a pronounced limp. Soon, they were in line with the other travelers and merchants entering the city.
Elias watched until they reached the gate and disappeared inside the city. “Let’s go,” he said, casting the elvish concealment spell that Islar had taught him. The drain on his power was immediate. “You’re right, Islar. Elvish spells are exhausting.”
Elias slowly expanded the spell to cover Nydeired, and then Brinsop.
Are you strong enough to do this? asked Brinsop. We have a fair distance to fly in order to reach the city.
“Yes,” said Elias. “But we’ll need to hurry. I can only hold this spell for a few minutes. Stay near us; fly as close to Nydeired as you can.”
Brinsop nodded and they all took off into the sky. Hanko and Charlight had already left, also hidden by a concealment spell.
Within minutes, Elias and Nydeired were over Morholt. The city was an architectural wonder. There were stone temples, a vast theater, and public baths. The center of the city boasted hanging gardens and an enormous fountain.
“This place is beautiful,” said Elias.
“You should have seen it years ago,” said Islar. “It was even nicer before. The emperor has let the city deteriorate. All he really cares about is his military.”
“Islar, where is this place? We need to land soon. I’m losing control of this spell.”
“There. That’s it!” said Islar, pointing to a huge basin in the distance. It was a concrete structure with terra-cotta pipes extending outward from every direction.
Nearby, Vosper’s palace made an imposing sight, with its high walls, black brick, and heavy iron doors.
Nydeired and Brinsop landed on the roof, and Islar jumped down and opened the service door. “Hurry!” said Elias. “I feel like I’m going to pass out!” They crawled inside, with Nydeired barely able to squeeze his huge body through the entrance. The basin was almost empty; the water only reached their knees. As soon as the door was shut, Elias released the spell and slumped against the wall. “Baghra’s garters! That was difficult! Toward the end, I thought I was going to faint. I still feel lightheaded.”
Sisren, Aor, and Rali arrived about thirty minutes later, also sneaking inside.
“Did you have any trouble at the gate?” said Elias.
“No,” said Sisren. “There were only a few armed guards. Other than a few taunts in Aor’s direction, they let us pass without incident.”
“I was a bit worried that the necromancers would be out there,” said Elias.
“Vosper doesn’t use his necromancers for regular guard duty,” said Islar. “They’re probably inside the palace with him.”
“Where’s Hanko and Charlight?” said Rali. “Shouldn’t they be here by now?”
“Yes, they should,” said Sisren.
“They left before I did,” said Elias. “Maybe something’s happened to them.”
“Or maybe Hanko’s deserted us, like the traitor and coward that he is,” said Rali.
“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” said Elias.
“We can’t stay here and wait for him,” said Sisren. “If we’re going to strike, it has to be now.”
Elias nodded. Sisren was right. They couldn’t wait. “We can land on the castle rooftop and take it from there. Islar, how many soldiers guard the bulwarks?”
“Usually five or six. Sometimes as many as ten, if there’s some foreign dignitary visiting. It may not seem like many, but Vosper’s soldiers are well trained. Be prepared for a fight.”
“There are plenty of us. We can incapacitate them easily,” said Rali.
“Don’t be so sure,” said Sisren. “We must defeat them quickly, before they can sound the alarm. The last thing we need is for the emperor to be alerted to our presence. We can’t afford to lose the advantage of surprise.”
“As soon as we land, drop your concealment spells and stop the guards,” said Elias. “Don’t use any magic that would call attention to us. Ready, everyone?”
“Not really,” said Islar, who looked very pale.
Elias patted the young spellcaster’s shoulder. “Just stay close to me and Nydeired. I promise I’ll do everything I can to keep you safe.”
“Okay,” said Islar, smiling.
They sloshed through the water and exited the basin. Sisren and Elias cast concealment spells, and they were back up to the roof of the basin. The riders mounted, and Nydeired and Brinsop landed on the palace rooftop within seconds.
Elias remembered the crossbow that Frogar had given him, and pulled it out of his saddlebags. He noticed that the stones on the stock were glowing.
There were eight guardsmen patrolling the rooftop. Elias pointed at one holding a blowing horn hanging by a leather cord around his neck. “That one first,” he whispered. “Get close to him, and I’ll drop the spell.” Nydeired crawled slowly to the guard, and Elias hopped from the saddle to the ground. Aor and Islar followed. The air shimmered, and the dragons and their riders materialized in front of the surprised guards.
“It’s a dragon rider!” screamed the guard, who rushed to sound the alarm. Elias aimed the crossbow and fired, knocking the horn out of the guard’s mouth. It went skidding along the cobblestones and over the side of the wall.
Then Aor grabbed the man by the neck, lifting him off the ground. The guard gurgled and twisted in the air. Aor held fast, and seconds later the guard lost consciousness. Aor flung the man to the ground.
Nydeired’s tail swung out, knocking three other guards off their feet. The men fell, screaming as Nydeired brought his massive tail down on them again and
again.
Sisren drew her knives and faced off with a guard. The man lunged, swinging his sword. Sisren avoided the attack by crouching down. She sprang back up, blocking the man’s wrist with one knife. She plunged the other knife deep under the man’s ribs. He collapsed, blood coming from his mouth.
Rali drew his short sword while circling another guard. Before he could swing, Aor came up behind the man and cracked his neck with a single move.
Sisren, Elias, and Brinsop made short work of the remaining soldiers. When they finished, five of the guards were unconscious and three lay dead.
Brinsop had suffered a stab wound to her right leg. Elias healed it quickly. “It’s bleeding a lot, but it’s only a surface wound. Nothing’s damaged underneath.”
Thank you, Elias, she said.
Sisren went to Elias and touched the crossbow. “Where did you get this weapon?” she asked.
“An old man gave it to me,” said Elias. “He told me it was elvish. I haven’t had much time to use it.”
“It is elvish,” said Sisren. “I haven’t seen a weapon like this in years. Those inlaid gemstones aren’t just for show. They’re a power conduit; the gems collect energy and store it. Keep that weapon close, Elias. You might need it.”
Islar pointed to a covered door. “That takes us into the atrium. From there, it’s only a short distance to Vosper’s throne room. He just sits there, staring out the window.”
They walked through the doorway into a large open space. There was stained glass everywhere, accented with rich ornamental wood carvings. They continued walking toward the throne room, swords drawn.
“Where is everyone?” said Sisren.
Islar gulped. “I don’t know. It’s making me nervous. The palace is usually crawling with servants.”
They got closer to the throne room and still didn’t see anyone: no servants and no guards. Then they heard a piercing scream.
“Have mercy!” said the man. Everyone froze.
It was Hanko.
A rasping voice floated out to the hallway. “I know you’re here… outsssside. Why don’t you come in and enjoy… my hospitality?”
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