The sorcerer seemed to blanch a little bit, but only smiled.
***
Byrn followed the guard back to his cell. He could feel the tiny cut of wood pressed against his leg through his trouser's pocket. His heart felt as if it might beat out of his chest and his face felt flush.
“You feeling alright?” asked the guard when they reached Byrn's cell.
“I am fine,” he told the guard wishing to hurry the man on his way, “just a bit tired from training.” The guard nodded and opened Byrn's cell allowing him entrance as if he had a choice.
The heavy iron door closed with a screech behind him followed closely by the sound of the locking mechanism. Byrn looked around the cell at the faint glow of the runes on the walls sapping the remaining magic in his veins that had built up from his time in training. Byrn had to act quickly if he was to have any hope of escaping.
“I have it,” he told the others.
Mantellus whooped in excitement.
“Are you sure you do not want to pass it this way?” the killer asked dubiously.
“Do not be foolish,” Ryonus chastised him, “Not only do you lack the necessary… mental faculties to cast the spell, but it would be impossible to get the rune to you in the first place.”
“I was only joking!” the fire magician laughed.
“Quiet both of you! Time is of the essence!” Xander Necros commanded and both men fell silent. To Byrn, Xander said reassuringly, “Go ahead. I know you can do it,” and the others voiced their agreement.
“I wish I shared your confidence in me,” Byrn lamented quietly.
The apprentice focused as Ryonus taught him on the index finger of his right hand. Pointing at his left wrist he willed his fingernail to grow until it formed a sharp, claw-like point and reached the skin. Byrn closed his eyes not wishing to think about what he was about to do. With a deep breath he slashed the nail across the wrist cutting the skin.
“Ah gods!” the young magician cursed at the sudden pain. Drops of blood dripped from the small cut. “I'm bleeding now. Not much, just enough.”
“It is time,” urged Ryonus. “Are you ready to cast the spell of transportation?”
“Yes, I think so,” said Byrn. He turned over the rune to see a destination written on it. It said, “Circle of Ilipse.” He heard of Ilipse. It was a city to the south although Byrn was unsure just how far south it lay. He had no clue what the “circle” was, but was sure he was about to find out.
Concentrating on the rune, Byrn's body began to feel lighter as if he could lift himself off the ground. Blood flowed from his wrist and circled his body in a light mist.
Suddenly he felt his body hit the floor. He fell to his hands and knees banging his right knee hard. The apprentice had failed the transportation.
“That did not sound good,” said Fredrik, a little concerned.
“Do not give up. Remember what Ryonus taught you. Lighter than air. Translucent. Gone,” Xander urged him on hurriedly knowing that Byrn was racing against time before the runes in his cell drained the power he had managed to build up during training.
Again Byrn concentrated on the rune as he willed his body lighter as if it weighed nothing. He imagined his skin was translucent like that of a ghost. And gone...
He fell to the ground again this time releasing an audible grunt of pain when he landed on the floor once more.
“I can do this,” Byrn told himself although he felt his body steadily growing weaker from the exertion. His left hand and arm were covered in blood and a sense of light-headedness threatened to overtake him.
The blood flowed around him encompassing the young elementalist in a red haze. He barely noted that the runes were growing brighter reacting to the amount of magic he was using as it tried to drain the blood source more rapidly in response. He wished he could make it to Ilipse as if getting away from Baj would make everything all better. He focused on the rune for the third time and felt his body lighten. Byrn looked at his hand clutching the rune and could see through it to the floor as the blood mist swirled around him going faster and faster. He closed his eyes and imagined himself plucked from the world like an apple from a tree.
When next he opened his eyes Byrn found he was floating weightless in a bright white realm of nothingness. A mixture of fear and awe filled him for the briefest of moments as he stared out into a nothingness that felt as if it somehow both ended at his fingertips and extended into eternity. It only lasted for a moment though before he felt his body being pulled downward or possibly upward. It was difficult to tell which direction he was moving in if he was really moving at all.
He blinked and Byrn found that he was staring into a great blue expanse instead of a great white one. His body felt heavy like it was made of stone. The very thought of moving seemed too taxing to comprehend so he just stared into the calm blueness. It took a few more seconds for Byrn to realize what he was looking at and once he did his body shot up to a sitting position finding strength the elementalist thought he no longer possessed. It had been more than a year since the last time he saw the sky.
Looking around Byrn found he was lying in a small garden surrounded by stone blocks arranged in a circle around him. No, they were not blocks exactly. They were benches.
A young girl no more than eight years old with blonde hair wearing a pretty blue dress sat on one of the benches looking at him curiously. If she was surprised by his sudden arrival she showed no sign of it.
“Hello, my name is Marisa,” said the young girl, “What is your name?”
Byrn smiled at her warmly and his heartbeat started to slow. Until that moment he had not realized that it had been beating with the same ferocity of a racehorse. “My name is Byrn. Can you tell me where we are?”
The little girl giggled, “You are being silly.”
“No, I am serious. Is this the city of Ilipse?” he asked calmly not wishing to inadvertently scare the girl. At her age, if he saw someone appear out of thin air as she must have, then he would have ran away in terror.
“This is Ilipse,” said a golden haired woman walking up behind Marisa. She was a few years older than Byrn and very attractive although there appeared to be a hint of sadness in her eyes. She stopped behind the girl and placed her hand on the little one's shoulder. Byrn guessed that they were mother and daughter. “But it is not a city,” the woman added, “Ilipse is one of the magicians’ domains.”
Chapter 21
“Where did he go?!” Warden Saradan Dungeonlord shouted with rage. An impossibly large vein pulsed on the large man's thick neck as his normally pale face turned dark red mimicking the blood boiling in his veins.
Byrn's iron door was wide open revealing the empty cell that was giving the burly warden and his two guardsmen severe indigestion. The floor was covered with spatters of dried blood leaving the only clue to the prisoner's escape. Xander Necros suppressed a laugh as he watched the three men through the eye slit in his door investigating the barren room. He knew they had no idea how Byrn managed to escape. The spell he used was fairly difficult for someone of the young man's experience even under ideal circumstances. Normally a transportation spell is only attempted once a magician has become an adept in manipulation magic and requires the instruction of a grimoire until he becomes more comfortable with the process, but Byrn did it in just a few attempts while locked in an anti-magic chamber without the aid of a grimoire or staff. That spoke wonders for his natural talent and magical skill. He was a truly remarkable lad and if he managed to evade the Kenzai hunters for the next decade or so he could become one of the most powerful sorcerers alive. Given a few lifetimes his power might even be enough to rival the grandmaster’s own.
Mantellus showed no such restraint and let out a loud derogatory laugh. “Did you check the privy, Warden? Be sure to stick your nose way down there.”
Whirling around to face his ridiculer Saradan drew his sword and banged it by the hilt against the fire wielder's door with a loud clang. His attempt to sile
nce Mantellus was met with more laughter. Saradan Dungeonlord did not understand just how dangerous someone like Mantellus was. While many men grew used to killing or even grew to love it in the course of battle there were few in the world like Mantellus. He was a man who killed simply because he could. He took the same pleasure in murdering a defenseless woman, as he would take from bedding her. What many people in the kingdom of Aurelia failed to understand was that it was not the magic or the lust for power that made some magicians violent like the Firekin. They were simply deranged individuals with a very powerful weapon at their disposal. If Saradan understood this then maybe he would have been more cautious when he decided to open Mantellus' cell to teach the prisoner a lesson.
“I think we need to start interrogating the prisoners,” snorted the warden. He looked into the slit of Mantellus' door at the redheaded magician and with a gleam of hatred in his eye added, “Start with this one.”
The guard to the warden's right moved to the door with a ring of keys in hand. Sorting through them quickly, he found the one he needed and inserted it into the lock. With a twist of the guard’s wrist and the sound of tumblers falling into place the lock was undone. A lock was such a simple thing and yet it held so many powerful people captive for years on end. The guard turned the door's handle and began to pull it open when the fire magician kicked it slamming the door into the guard's face and knocking him soundly to the ground.
Before Mantellus Firekin discovered his penchant for magical mayhem he was a teamster making a living loading and unloading trader's wagons so he was a muscular man if a little lithe making the elementalist a strong and fast opponent with a bloodthirsty cunning. Xander considered him a formidable opponent for an unwary foe even without his magic. Like a bolt of lightning Mantellus flew from his cell. A deafening war cry bounced off the walls and doors in the confined circle of the cell cluster. Saradan failed to see the prisoner's fist come crashing square into his nose- breaking it and sending the warden reeling backwards.
The guard that was not hit with the door reacted quickly. The Kenzai guard pulled his baton free and swung it in a sidelong arch to bash the magician's skull in one fluid motion, but Mantellus ducked under the blow throwing the guard off balance.
Mantellus’ right fist flew up to the guard's face catching him in the chin and knocking him to the ground.
“Behind you!” shouted Ryonus.
Turning Mantellus saw Saradan's blade thrusting towards his gut and he sidestepped out of the way, but the sword still managed to catch him with a glancing slice. He screamed in pain as he fell on top of the guard he hit with the door who was clearly unconscious. Mantellus grabbed the man's club and used it to deflect the warden's downward strike. Then he brought the weapon into his opponent's kneecap. The warden was wearing plate armor with chain at the joints, but that chain provided no protection to the crushing power of the truncheon. Saradan staggered, but kept to his feet by using his sword as an impromptu crutch.
Xander Necros recognized the look on the elementalist's face. He was trying in vain to harness the power of the blood source pouring from his side, but found no magic there. Mantellus was weakening and getting desperate.
Forcing himself to his feet Mantellus charged the warden hoping to get inside of his sword making the weapon nearly useless. Tackling the man Mantellus punched him in the face repeatedly. In his blood lust he did not notice the second guard's approach.
Fortunately the other prisoner's did. “To your right,” shouted Fredrik and Mantellus instantly reacted grabbing the warden's sword and shoving it as hard as he could into the man's gut through his armor.
The guard fell forward towards Mantellus and he grabbed the sword with his left hand as he shoved the body away with his right forcing it to fall away from him with the same indifference that another man might have pushing aside a shirt on a clothesline.
Mantellus got to his feet slowly. The battle was over and he had won, but his strength was nearly spent. Hefting the sword he turned it blade down and put it to the warden's neck.
“Do you want to beg?” he asked. There was hatred in the killer’s voice, but also a disturbing bit of playfulness.
“Just open the cells,” Fredrik told him before the warden could respond.
“Fredrik, sometimes you are bore. You know that?” Mantellus sliced his prey's throat.
The fire elementalist paused over the unconscious guard's body for a moment. The man was no longer a threat. Xander wondered if Mantellus paused to consider whether to end the Kenzai guard's life or simply to savor the moment of a defenseless kill. In the end the reason did not matter, because the result was the same. The fire weaver shoved the blade into the guard's throat as well.
Mantellus retrieved the key from his cell door and used it to open Fredrik's cell next to his. Once Fredrik was out Mantellus took the opportunity to rest and sat abruptly on the floor against the small partition between the two cells leaving the rest to his fellow elementalist.
Fredrik released the remaining prisoners of the cluster from their cells and took the sword from Mantellus. Elementalists were naturally more aggressive than other magicians and tended to be better fighters with both weapons and magic making him the natural choice to wield the piercing weapon while Ryonus and Tell took the two truncheons. Being the oldest of the group Xander was content to assist Mantellus to his feet and help support him, putting the younger man's arm around his neck, careful not to put undue pressure on his wound.
For the first time in years the magicians were free from their cells. Maybe it was a just reward from the gods for helping their youngest member escape from Baj or simple luck. The cause for their good fortune mattered little to the necromancer who was just happy to have the chance at his own freedom. They headed in the direction they saw the guards take Byrn on many occasions thinking it would lead to the entrance.
After a minute they came to another cluster.
“Anyone in here?” asked Tell.
Several eye slits were pulled open simultaneously and the magicians were greeted by shouts of agreement. There were five magicians in this cluster and the group of escapees became ten. At the next cluster they picked up four more and so on until there were over thirty admittedly underpowered magicians roaming the halls of the prison before they were confronted by a group of seven armed guards. For a tense moment Xander was unsure how the conflict would play out. The guards were outnumbered four to one, but the magicians were unarmed and most were probably unaccustomed to fighting without magic.
It was Fredrik that led the charge brandishing his new sword and bellowing out a war cry, followed shortly behind by Ryonus, Tell, and more than a dozen other magicians overwhelming the guards. The guards fought bravely and managed to fell four or five of the magicians, but they were quickly overwhelmed arming seven more men with the clubs used by the prison guards. Only the warden had apparently been aloud to carry a sword within the prison’s confines.
Making their way through two more cell clusters the breakout added another twelve magicians to the escape. With so many of his fellow magicians freed a spark of hope that his rebellion could be reborn began to burn in the old necromancer's heart. All they had to do was get out of the prison's influence and their power would quickly return.
The ear piercing sound of an alarm whirring broke Xander's train of thought.
“It sounds like they are aware of our escape,” gasped Mantellus, his breathing had become labored. Holding his bleeding side he added with a slight chuckle, “I do not suppose there are any necromancy based healing spells known to a grandmaster...”
“There is in a manner of speaking,” Xander frowned, “but it would take twenty years for you to learn it. I think you are better off seeking a more traditional remedy once we get out of here. Maybe we could kidnap a priest.”
A few minutes later they reached the main entrance to be confronted by three-dozen guards surrounding them on three sides. Xander realized that every guard in the prison must have conve
rged on this location once the alarm sounded, waiting for the prisoners to arrive. The main entrance was much larger limiting the effect that wards here had. The gathering of magicians could feel their powers returning ever so slowly. If they could hold back defeat off long enough, they might be able to make good on their escape.
“Surrender now and we will spare you,” said one of the guards confidently, “Challenge us and you will die.” As if to confirm this every guard drew a sword from their scabbards. Clearly they had an armory nearby filled with the lethal weapons in case a prison break like this ever happened.
The blades glowed in a faint blue hue, drawing what little energy the magicians had recovered. As the small energy that the necromancer managed to recover started to drain away he knew defeat was inescapable. The only question was whether or not his fellow prisoners understood this and would surrender or fight and die in vain.
Ryonus stepped back with his hands raised in a sign of surrender. A pragmatic man he could always be counted on to make the smart decision, excluding the lapse in judgment that ended his father's life. “This fight is lost,” he whispered to Xander and Mantellus, “but that does not mean we have to lose everything.”
The master of manipulation placed his hand on Mantellus' injury and spoke a minor incantation causing a sharp pain to shoot through the wounded man’s body so fast the elementalist did not have time to scream out before the pain had dissipated. Xander was about to ask Ryonus what he had done when the battle broke out.
Rogue Magician (The Magician Rebellion) Page 12