Alexander reached the final pillar standing between him and the last platform before the guardian chamber. A sentinel stood in his path, eyes glowing, spear and shield at the ready. He marched toward it, assessing the field of battle with each step. This platform was different than the rest in that there were no railings, just a thirty-foot-diameter circle of stone with three bridges joining it on one side and a single span without railings arcing away on the other. A guardian before the guardian.
He stepped onto the platform, stopping to face the sentinel.
“You shall not pass,” a distant voice said. “This way is forbidden.”
Alexander stretched out with his all around sight. Soldiers and brigands were converging on his position from a number of directions. The Acuna wizard was nearly in position to throw a spell. Then a man went flying off the near edge of the guardian chamber, screaming into the dark.
Soldiers had reached the guardian ahead of him.
He strode toward the sentinel, reaching into the moments to come with his mind, seeing the thrust a moment before it became reality, spinning around it and past the sentinel, then breaking into a dead run, leaving the inanimate sentry behind as he sprinted across the bridge that would deliver him to the guardian chamber.
Danger flared in his mind an instant before a blow hit him square in the middle of the back, hard as a hammer. It knocked his wind out and sent him sprawling on his face, Luminessence clattering across the floor, coming to rest on the edge of the bridge, three feet of the enchanted staff hanging out over the void.
Alexander scrambled forward, all other thoughts pushed aside as he dove toward the edge of the bridge, catching the staff just before it slipped over, rolling onto his back and holding Luminessence to his chest with both hands. He lay there for a moment, schooling his breathing and calming his heart.
A man’s scream was cut short by a loud thump, then another man went over the edge of the open-ended chamber that Alexander was struggling to reach. He staggered to his feet just in time to see soldiers lumbering toward him, struggling to move quickly under the weight of their armor. Then the Acuna wizard began casting a spell.
He unleashed Luminessence again, filling the chamber with a flash of light so bright that everyone nearby had to look away or cover their eyes. The wizard’s spell went wide, a bubble of liquid fire whizzing past him into the guardian chamber and splashing against the ceiling, dripping orange-hot fire into the room below. A solider screamed.
Alexander was up and running again, pain in his back jolting him with every step, but he pressed on, reaching the guardian chamber just as Grant and a dozen of his brigands stopped at the threshold of an oversized door on one side of the room. A dozen soldiers were already dead, their bodies broken and burned. A dozen more were surrounding the guardian, trying to bring it down while trying harder to avoid its stone fists.
Alexander skirted to the right of the guardian, putting it between him and Grant’s men. It lunged, striking at a nearby soldier with both fists in unison, catching him in the chest and blowing him backward scores of feet, his still, dead corpse coming to rest against the wall. Another soldier stabbed the guardian in the knee, his sword sinking into the red-hot magic joining the stones and melting in a shower of sparks. A backhanded swat by the guardian sent the man flying silently off the far edge of the open-ended chamber.
When Alexander reached the midline of the room, the guardian spun toward him, hurling a lava-red stone the size of a man’s head. He turned to avoid it, but it grazed him across the chest, burning his tunic and heating his dragon-scale chain to the point of searing. He cried out, pulling the chain away from his skin, then emptying his waterskin on it, turning his face away from the sudden cloud of steam.
The Acuna wizard and his men reached the chamber’s edge, stopping to assess the situation before the soldiers began to advance toward Alexander. He flipped Luminessence to his left hand and drew the Thinblade.
“McGinty!” he shouted.
He inched toward the far edge of the chamber, drawing the guardian’s attention again. It threw a stone at him, the rock heating to orange-hot in an instant. Alexander dodged, feeling a wave of heat as it zipped past his head and hit the wall behind him, shattering into scores of glowing pebbles.
The guardian started lumbering toward Alexander.
At least it isn’t fast, he thought to himself, watching it sweep aside two Andalian soldiers with a single backhanded swipe of its misshapen hand. They fell still and smoldering. With each step, it gained speed, a juggernaut bearing down on him.
Alexander held his ground, reaching into the coming moments, waiting for the right time to move. The guardian seemed intent on simply running him over, building speed with each step until it was in a headlong dash that it couldn’t stop if it wanted to.
Alexander could feel the heat of the unnatural creature, see the magic holding the stones together, feel the thump, thump, thump of its footfalls … and still he waited, watching the advancing soldiers as well as the guardian. The soldiers hesitated, waiting to see if the guardian would do their work for them.
He calmed his mind and closed his blind eyes, waiting until the last moment. The smell of singed hair filled his nose, heat washed over his skin-he spun left, Luminessence filling the chamber with brilliance, blinding everyone except Alexander and the guardian, the Thinblade whipping around and catching the guardian across the back of its legs, cleaving them cleanly in two and toppling the creature into a clattering jumble of stones skittering across the floor. Alexander stopped, facing the jumbled mess of glowing stones spread out before him, letting Luminessence dim to a gentle glow. Everyone else stopped as well, all of them watching Alexander … until the glowing stones started to move, coming together, reassembling themselves.
Its movement dispelled the moment of stillness and the battle resumed, a crossbow bolt fired by one of Grant’s men shattering against Alexander’s back, his dragon-scale chain shirt preserving his life yet again. The six soldiers nearest him charged as one, a line of shields and swords moving in unison.
Alexander ran for the far side of the chamber.
“McGinty!” he shouted again.
The strange little creature rose up out of the floor, looking at the scene of battle with as much dismay as his incomplete features could convey.
“Bridge the gap!” Alexander shouted, ducking to avoid another crossbow bolt.
“Look out,” Chloe said, buzzing into view.
Alexander took a hit in the middle of his back that knocked him to his knees. He hadn’t seen it coming and his magic hadn’t warned him, but the strike was very real, a dagger point brought down full force. Chloe virtually ripped his mind away from his body and showed him the enemy he faced-Titus Grant. Grant raised his dagger again, this time aiming for the back of Alexander’s head.
He rolled to the side, avoiding the strike but leaving himself flat on his back looking up and seeing nothing, yet seeing Grant through Chloe’s eyes. Rather than fight, he blinded the brigand with his staff, flooding the chamber with light again, stunning his enemies with blindness, but noticing that the brilliance produced by Luminessence was less than before and it seemed to require more will and effort.
The guardian was nearly fully reassembled, yet still on its knees, stones skittering across the floor toward it, adding to its bulk and size as they became incorporated into its enormous body.
Alexander let the light lapse when he saw the bridge materialize behind him. He’d seen this magic before-Blackstone Keep. He spun and ran with every bit of speed he could muster. The bridge arced gracefully, spanning five hundred feet to the shrine where the well of memory resided.
Grant cursed, backing away from the bridge abutment even as he ordered his three closest men to give chase. Shards of red-tinged magical force whizzed past Alexander, narrowly missing his head. He ignored them, focusing on speed. A dozen soldiers followed on the heels of Grant’s men while the wizard and the remaining soldiers engaged the bri
gands.
A crossbow bolt grazed Alexander’s shoulder, drawing a thin line of blood. He took a sharp breath, trying to ignore the pain, his breathing heavy, his lungs and legs on fire. Nearly to the platform, exhausted from running, a volley of crossbow bolts arced through the air toward him. He dodged, turning to avoid a hit, but he wasn’t fast enough. A bolt hit him in the side of the left thigh, its point protruding from the inside of his leg just above the knee.
He stumbled and fell a dozen feet from the end of the bridge, crying out in pain and surprise, Luminessence clattering onto the platform and coming to rest not far from the well of memory. He looked back. Grant’s three men were bearing down on him, not thirty feet away, and a dozen soldiers were another hundred feet behind them, but behind them all was the guardian, building speed with every step, closing the distance with frightening quickness.
Staggering to his feet, then falling again when he tried to put weight on his wounded leg, Alexander revised his assessment of the guardian’s speed. He crawled the last few feet, bruised and battered, bloody and in pain, coming to his knees once he reached the platform, ignoring the sharp stab of agony as he swept the Thinblade through the bridge a foot away from the edge of the platform, starting at the nearest side and allowing himself to fall forward so he could reach the far side of the bridge with a single stroke.
Rolling onto his back, struggling to catch his breath, Alexander watched the guardian crash into the soldiers, trampling several and sending the rest flying off the sides of the bridge. Past the onrushing guardian and the rapidly closing brigands, Alexander saw Grant casually kill the Acuna wizard, stabbing him in the back.
Alexander was spent. All he could do was watch the three brigands and the guardian close the gap, but then a loud crack reverberated through the underdark and the bridge broke. The nearest of the brigands leapt for the platform, catching the edge, then slipping over until he was holding on for dear life.
“Pull me up,” he shouted.
With a derisive snort, Alexander reached out and brought the pommel of the Thinblade down on his hand and the man slipped free, falling into the darkness with a fading scream.
Alexander lay still for several moments, regaining his composure and his breath. Across the gap, Grant stood at the edge of the guardian chamber with what remained of his men, watching Alexander … but he was too far away to do more than watch.
Alexander sat up and carefully cut the shaft protruding from his leg, then gritted his teeth and pulled the bolt through from the barbed end, stifling a whimper. Blackness threatened to envelop him, but he brought himself back with a sheer effort of will, forcing his pain into the background and focusing on the task at hand.
McGinty rose up before him.
“Did you bring the memory?” The strange little creature almost sounded excited.
“Yes,” Alexander said, willing the door to his Wizard’s Den open.
McGinty seemed alarmed when he saw the people within.
“No others may be here.”
“They’re not here, they’re in there,” Alexander said. “Lita, bring me that strongbox, please.”
She obeyed dutifully, remaining within the Wizard’s Den. “You’re hurt,” she said. “Let me tend to that.”
“Later,” Alexander said, unlocking the strongbox and removing the vial containing the blood of the earth. “I won’t be long.”
He closed the door.
McGinty tried to frown. “Where did they go?”
“Like I said, they were never here; they were in there. Can you bring me my staff?” he asked, pointing to Luminessence.
McGinty seemed momentarily confused until Alexander waggled his finger at it, then he shuffled over and lifted it from the stone floor.
“This is vitalwood,” he said with as much surprise as he could seem to muster.
“Yes.”
“But the vitalwood died out, and the fay with them.”
“There’s one left,” Alexander said. “I found the branch that this staff is made from nearby it.”
McGinty held it out as if it were sacred, offering it to Alexander. He took it with a smile and leveraged himself to his feet, using the staff as a crutch.
“If the vitalwood yet live, then the fay may return.”
Alexander shrugged, pain and exhaustion rippling through his body. “Maybe … I don’t know.”
He hobbled over to the altar, leaning heavily on Luminessence, running his finger along the edge of the crystal bowl and sighing to himself before he started cleaning the debris from the well of memory.
“Forgive me, Isabel,” he whispered, pulling the stopper from the vial with his teeth and dropping it to the floor. He hesitated for just a moment, swallowing hard before tipping the vial and allowing the single drop of blood of the earth to spill forth into the well of memory. It splashed against the side of the bowl, scores of tiny beads rolling to the lowest point and collecting into a single drop.
The air became very still, as if the world itself was expecting something. The hair on his head stood up and then the four little mounds of dirt piled nearby started to stir, each coalescing into a creature of different form and shape. One took on a humanoid appearance while the remaining three seemed to vanish into the stone, molding it back into perfect form after they’d passed.
“They’re awake!” McGinty said, his voice filled with as much joy as Alexander could have imagined.
The sole Linkershim who remained on the platform seemed to regard Alexander carefully before refining its appearance to become a perfect imitation of him, except he was made entirely of stone and dirt.
“Thank you,” he said awkwardly, as if spoken language was foreign.
“You’re welcome.”
Alexander noticed movement in the distance, across the gap in the guardian chamber. He could see Grant and his men backing away while the opening on this end of the guardian chamber was being walled off. Two Linkershim, each formed a bit differently, drew stones from the floor and ceiling to build the wall, completely sealing off the chamber containing the well of memory from the rest of the world.
“We will remove the fleshlings from the underdark and unbuild Mithel Dour,” the Linkershim said. “But we will not harm them, as McGinty agreed.”
“Within the palace, there are two forges …”
“Those devices will be unmade as well,” the Linkershim said, a hint of anger in his inhuman voice.
“Good,” Alexander said.
“You will be welcome in the underdark, though not soon.”
“I’m honored. I look forward to seeing what you build next.”
“Other fleshlings will not be welcome. We shared our building with fleshlings before and they repaid us with death.”
“I understand your distrust,” Alexander said, “but please understand, not all fleshlings wish you harm. Most would admire your work.”
“You will not be disappointed. When the Linkershim build for joy, the result is worthy. And we have much joy now.”
“If you’ll show me the way out, I’ll leave you to your building.”
“As you wish,” the Linkershim said, transforming into a stone chair.
“Sit and you will be transported to safety under the sky,” McGinty said.
Alexander nodded, gently easing himself into the chair.
“It was nice meeting you, McGinty. Take care of the Linkershim.”
“You are an honorable fleshling, Alexander Reishi,” McGinty said, attempting to bow.
The chair and the surrounding stone floor sank into the platform, taking Alexander with it until he was completely encapsulated in stone. He lit the little space with Luminessence, watching the ground move around him, forming and re-forming according to the will of the Linkershim. He felt the sensation of movement, but couldn’t determine which direction he was going. Minutes passed. He started to feel a bit uncertain about his situation, the air grew thin and he felt a bit lightheaded.
Then, quite suddenly, he was
under the sky. The capsule melted around him and he found himself atop a mountain in an ancient temple overlooking Mithel Dour from across the lake behind the palace. The sun was setting, orange and red, behind hazy clouds on the horizon, framed by an ancient stone arch, worn and broken. A stone bowl occupied the center of the temple altar, while ancient statues of men and women stood nearby.
With the help of Luminessence, Alexander got to his feet, and the Linkershim transformed from a chair into a likeness of him again.
“Behold, the unmaking of Mithel Dour,” it said.
Alexander limped to the railing for a better view of the city. It looked like the palace was imploding, stones being drawn toward some central mass within, walls and ceilings collapsing in on themselves, yet not scattering as gravity and inertia would dictate, but instead coalescing into a form, a form that rose slowly, accumulating stones, adding them to its mass until it was a giant of epic proportions, standing easily a hundred feet tall where the palace had once stood.
“How can it be so big?” Alexander asked.
“That is many Linkershim working together as one.”
The giant smashed the back wall, allowing the lake to pour forth into the city in a great torrent, water splashing into the streets, flooding a foot deep-more than enough to send the inhabitants of Mithel Dour into a panic. It took only minutes for the entire contents of the mountain lake to wash into the city, driving the people toward the cliff wall.
Then the giant focused on the palace, dismantling it a stone at a time, but leaving one elevator intact to ferry those trying to escape to the city below. Buildings, so beautifully made so long ago, started crumbling when other Linkershim began arriving in the city to help unbuild it.
The people were in a panic until they reached the cliff wall and found that the river had been redirected over the waterfall and the exit tunnel was open. Water flowed gently from the streets into the tunnel, soaking everyone trying to escape the dying city.
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