by Tony Donadio
The guard shrugged. “I assume so. Anyway she bolted off again in panic.”
Orion nodded. “She could be suffering from delusions, of course. Light, I hope so. But her story actually makes some sense.”
The lieutenant looked puzzled. “How’s that?”
“A bluesteel matrix with no dweomer imprinted on it will resonate with nearby magic,” Orion explained. “It’s a primitive magic detection charm. To glow so brightly, though — to say nothing of burning someone’s hand — it would have to be reacting to an incredibly powerful spell.”
The guard gaped at him. “You don’t think her story’s actually true, do you?”
Orion shrugged.
“I admit it seems far-fetched. But whatever is going on involves very strong magic. The glowing amulet proves that, at least. And Zomoran does have the power and motive to be behind it.”
“We need eyes on the Lower City,” the lieutenant decided. “Trevane, go back outside and keep watch. If anything new develops, come back here immediately and let us know.”
“Wait,” Orion said, before the guard could salute and run off. “We can do better than that.”
The others turned to him expectantly. He pointed through the open doors to the garden outside the classroom.
“That wall to the south. The academy lawn is right on the other side. I’ve climbed it many times. You can get an excellent view of the city from the top.”
The lieutenant nodded. He was warming to Orion with new respect.
“Good idea. You and I will go up and get a look at what’s going on. Trevane, you and Jenkins stay on watch down here.”
The guard nodded. “Yes, Lieutenant Caldor,” he said.
The three looked around the room. The class had remained rowdy and distracted after its outburst, and Dame Marjeune seemed to have had little success in quieting them down. Some of the students were joking loudly at the idea of demons appearing in the capital city of Carlissa, and others had resumed their banter and flirting. The noise had allowed Orion and the two guards to continue their conversation uninterrupted, without being overheard.
“Clever woman,” Orion remarked suddenly.
Trevane frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Dame Marjeune,” he explained. “She’s not really trying to get them under control. She’s just making a show of it so they don’t get suspicious. She’s letting them keep themselves distracted while we figure out what’s going on.”
Caldor grinned. “Good. That’ll keep them out of trouble for now. Let’s get up on that wall and see what we can see.”
He walked quietly toward the garden, and Orion fell into step behind him. As they did, Dame Marjeune spared them a momentary glance and an almost imperceptible nod. None of the students seemed to take notice of their nonchalant exit.
The View from the Wall
Orion slipped the toe of one boot into a crevice in the garden wall. He grasped a sturdy vine that ran down the length of the structure in one hand, using it to keep his balance.
He was familiar with the handholds from his time as a student, and they had let him rise swiftly once he started to climb. Lacking his knowledge and weighted down by his armor, Lieutenant Caldor labored a good distance below.
Orion stepped up, lifting himself along the surface. The stone wall was fifteen feet high and three feet thick, and he was near the end of his climb. The lip of the wall should be just above him. He reached over his head to grab it.
He was surprised to feel a hand reach down to grasp his. It was slender but strong, and it helped to draw him up. With its aid he scrambled onto the flat summit of the wall, and turned to look at his unexpected companion.
He saw a tall girl with a long tress of auburn hair. She wore a knee length brown skirt of fine material but simple design. It was hiked up around her thighs. She was sitting on the wall’s edge, looking out over the city and kicking her feet absently. Orion was startled to realize that it was the green-eyed student he’d seen earlier.
“About time someone else thought of coming up here,” she said cheerily. She pointed down and to her right. “The wall has a much better view than you can get from the entrance.”
Orion balanced himself to take a seat next to her. “How long have you been here?” he asked.
“About five minutes. I was curious to see what was going on, and getting impatient for the guard to come back and report. I saw the wall here in the garden, so I sneaked out to climb it.”
Orion looked at her carefully. She sat with ease on the narrow ledge. The simple cut of her dress emphasized the lines of a long-limbed, muscular physique. She spoke with just a hint of an unfamiliar and exotic accent.
“Private Trevane only left a few minutes before you came up here,” Orion observed. A hint of a smile touched his lips. “You seem to become impatient very quickly.”
The girl grinned at him. “Oh, have you noticed that?”
Orion heard a scrabbling noise, and saw Lieutenant Caldor clamber awkwardly to the top of the wall beside them. When he was done he gripped the stone awkwardly with white-knuckled hands.
“Hello, Kieran,” the girl said with a teasing grin. “Feeling a bit of vertigo?”
His eyes shot up to look at her, mortified. “What are you doing up here?”
“Apparently she got our idea before we did,” Orion observed drily. “She’s been watching the city for a few minutes.”
“You shouldn’t be up here, Lady Dal Meara,” Caldor said with disapproval. He tried to make his voice sound scolding and authoritative, but his obvious discomfiture was badly sabotaging the effort. The girl frowned at him and turned to Orion.
“The guards are always so formal and protective around us,” she explained. “Maybe I can get you to call me Diana?”
“All right,” Caldor said impatiently. He nodded his head toward the center of the city. “Since you’ve been up here, let’s have your report. What have you seen?”
Diana turned to follow his gaze. A thick grey pall had settled over the amphitheater, extending around it to cover the marketplace and nearby roads.
“Mostly that,” she said, pointing. “The cloud was already there when I came up here. People have started running out of it, looking really panicked.”
Orion squinted toward the center of the city. His eyesight wasn’t especially strong at a distance, and years of book-reading hadn’t helped to sharpen it.
“The guard said that people on the street thought it was from a fire,” he noted. “What do you make of it?”
“That’s what I thought at first, too,” she replied. “But it’s just sitting there, churning in a slow circle around the tip of the firth. It’s not moving or spreading, and there’s no sign of a flame anywhere. It’s like a storm cloud, hugging the ground over the amphitheater. And there’s some kind of purple glow at its center. You can see it through the mist every once in a while.”
“No demons, though?” Caldor asked. Diana gave him a surprised look.
“A woman ran by just after I got up here, shouting something about demons. I assumed she was addled.” She turned back toward the center of the city, looking intently at it. “You don’t think …”
“That’s what she told Trevane,” Caldor explained. “Something about a hellgate and a demon horde serving Lord Zomoran.”
Diana grabbed Orion’s shoulder. “Look!” she said, pointing. Her expression was suddenly alarmed.
“What is it?”
“There are figures circling inside the cloud, now. Lots of them. Figures with wings. Something’s happening.”
Orion looked. Even with his modest eyesight — Diana’s seemed a lot sharper than his own — he could see that she was right. Winged figures were beginning to fly out of the brume in all directions, circling radially into the city in ever widening arcs. The three gasped as a mass of them emerged from the western side of the cloud. It quickly formed into a line, moving with frightening speed toward the palace.
Demons had faded into
legend in Kalara over the centuries, but everyone knew the tales and images from the past. There was no doubt what they were seeing.
Orion stole a glance at Diana. Her playful demeanor had vanished, and her green eyes were wide. She was staring with a look of horror at the unfolding scene.
“So the woman was right,” Caldor said. His voice sounded weak, as though he were about to be sick. “It’s a demon attack.”
“Yes,” Orion agreed. He fought to keep his voice flat. He didn’t trust himself to let any of the emotion he was feeling into it.
“And the cloud’s finally starting to dissipate,” he added. “It must have been summoned by magic. To cloak the creatures as they arrived.”
Caldor turned to look at Diana. “You’ve got sharp eyes,” he said. “Now that the mist is thinning, can you make out how many there are?”
“There’s a dome of some kind of purple magic in the middle of the amphitheater,” she said. Her voice sounded numb. “I can see ranks of creatures already lined up in formation around it. Hundreds of them. Maybe thousands, and more keep coming out of it.”
She pointed. “There’s a group of them marching along the south road. Big creatures, most of them, right out of a nightmare. Mostly in red and black armor. And there’s another group taking the north road toward us.”
“Lady of Compassion preserve us,” Caldor whispered.
Screams began to echo in the city around them as others saw the scene unfold. A horn brayed nearby, followed by the frantic clanging of the academy’s tower bell.
“This isn’t just an attack,” Orion said grimly. “A demon force like this hasn’t been seen on the eastern continent since the Taming.”
“We need to get down to warn the others,” Caldor said. “There must be defended areas in the academy. We’ll need to regroup there with the staff for protection.”
He swung his legs over the inner side of the wall. Without waiting for an answer, he grasped the vine they had used to help scale it and began to climb down. He made much better time on his descent than he had on the way up.
Orion turned to Diana, “You should go next.”
“Someone has to stay up here,” she said. “At least a few minutes longer, to watch their movements. I’ve got good eyes. I can do it.”
“A sound suggestion,” he agreed. “Except for one thing.”
He pointed upward, indicating the winged demons that had emerged from the evaporating cloud.
“Those creatures are spiraling out in a rising and widening pattern. They’ll be flying passes over the Upper City in a few minutes. It’s not safe to stay up here. You’ll be a target.”
“So when they do, I’ll come down,” she replied stubbornly.
She laid herself, prone, on the top of the wall. “I’ll keep a low profile in the meantime,” she added. “Now get moving! I like Kieran, but he’s not exactly the sharpest blade in the armory. You’ll need to be there to keep him from doing anything stupid.”
He raised an eyebrow at her and grinned. “You don’t mince words, do you?”
She shook her head. “We don’t have time for it. Now go!”
“All right,” he said. “But be careful, and come down at the first hint of danger.”
She chuckled. “Oh, I will. You can trust me on that.”
Orion nodded. Then he swung his legs over the wall’s inner lip and climbed swiftly back down into the garden.
Chapter 5 - The King's Magic
Attack on the Palace
The resonant blare of a horn pierced the air over the palace. Danor recognized it immediately. An alarm was being sounded from the battlement. The same alert had sounded five months earlier, when Zomoran’s dragon had appeared over the shoulder of the mountain. Before that it hadn’t been heard in decades.
A short burst rang out, followed by two more just like it. As they did more of the winged shadows fell across the mountainside. Whatever they were, they were converging on the north side of the palace.
“'Ware!” the King cried. “Guards, to me!”
He raced through the balcony doors. The guard posted there turned in surprise to face him. He had been watching the city below and hadn’t yet noticed the shadows.
“What is it, my liege?” he asked, drawing his sword.
“There,” the King replied curtly, pointing. “Coming out of the sun to blind us to their approach.”
The two looked up, squinting against the bright light. A flight of winged creatures was racing with terrifying speed toward the palace.
Even as they watched it split into two groups. One of them plunged toward the main gate, and the other banked directly toward the balcony they were standing on.
The color drained from the guard’s face. “They’re coming right for us!” he blurted.
“What is it?” a voice asked from behind. Aron, true to form, had sprinted across the room at the first sound of his father’s call. His sword, Flamebane, was already in his hand, the bluesteel of its enchanted blade gleaming brightly in the morning sun.
“Winged demons!” the King called out. He turned, pushing the prince back into the room and following close behind. He swung the balcony doors closed and dropped the bar to seal them.
“Everyone, away from the outer walls and windows! The palace is under attack! Retreat to the Great Hall! We mustn’t be cut off!”
By tradition, ten soldiers were arrayed throughout the room to protect the High Council when it was in session. They were the elite of the palace guard, and they obeyed the orders without hesitation. Four of them formed ranks around the King and the prince as screams of panic erupted throughout the conference room, and two more fell in at the Queen’s side.
Elena had ignored Danor’s order to retreat and was rushing forward to join him. Lord Rugon and several of the councilors had followed her example, drawing their weapons. The remaining guards arrayed themselves to protect the rest of the council as they stampeded toward the exit.
A window along the east wall exploded in a concussion of fire and lightning. Stone sprayed through the air, along with the remnants of the abandoned refreshment table that had been set near it. The councilors racing for the exit were knocked from their feet by the blast, and several of them were hit by the resulting shrapnel. Only the King’s warning had saved them from being killed.
Demons, one after another, flew in through the opening. Without pausing to attack they raced around to flank the fallen councilors, driving a wedge between them and the royal family. In moments the two groups were cut off not only from each other, but from the exit as well.
Another explosion tore the balcony doors off their hinges. Their remains flew into the room in shards of splintered wood. The King and his group were right in the line of the blast, but none of them were struck. A shimmering barrier of sky blue flared suddenly in the air before them, deflecting the debris and blunting the concussion.
Aron grinned. “Nicely done, mother,” he said simply.
A massive figure with jet-black skin stood framed in the ruin of the doorway. It was wearing a harness of red leather straps for armor, and held a great axe in one hand. It slowly furled its enormous wings, and, stooping to accommodate its great height, stepped into the room. More demons swarmed in behind it as the creature strode forward, finally coming to a stop before the wall of shimmering blue magic.
It appraised the barrier briefly, and then looked over the rest of the room. The felled councilors had staggered to their feet or been dragged into the far corner of the chamber. The high priest stood between them and the advancing demons, another wall of magic shimmering in the air before him.
The monster’s gaze returned to the King. It lifted its massive axe.
“I am Incanus Thad,” its voice boomed. “Wielder of Destruction, and Captain of the Horde of Warlord Zomoran, the Black Magus. He rules in Carlissa now. Prepare for death, because your line ends today.”
Danor stared incredulously at the enormous demon. His eyes narrowed dangerously.
> “So, you and your master think to slay me and my family?” he demanded. “And to so easily conquer the kingdom I have sworn to protect?” He swept an arm around in a gesture of mockery, indicating the monsters that now surrounded them. “You will need more demons than this to make good on such a boast!”
He raised his left hand. A gold ring with a blue gemstone appeared suddenly on its third finger, and began to burn with a bright yellow flame. With a flash that flame spread to envelop his entire body, like armor, in a sheath of fiery magic.
He gestured toward his sword where it lay at the center of the conference table. Guardian leaped from its scabbard. It too burned with golden fire as it flew across the room and into his hands. One of the demons stood in its way; it scythed through the creature’s midsection, cutting it in half.
The King lifted the enchanted blade over his head, and then pointed it toward Incanus Thad. His body blazed as though he had been transformed into a being of living fire. When he spoke, his voice echoed like the sound of a god returning from the Age of Legends.
“I am Danor Killraven,” he declared. “Descendant of Aldran, and son of Lenard the Archmage. You face the power of my family’s magic, monster. Defend yourself!”
The Queen regarded the unfolding scene with a determined expression. Everyone else in the room stared at the King in undisguised shock. Danor was renowned as a great warrior — but unlike his father, he had never shown more than a meager skill for wizardry. Clearly none of them, the demons included, had expected this display of magical power from him.
Incanus Thad bared its fangs and roared at Danor’s challenge. The blue shield parted to either side of it like a curtain as it leaped to attack. Its axe, Destruction, fell upon the King’s incandescent form with a powerful stroke that carried the great creature’s full strength behind it.
Danor braced himself, and Guardian swept upward in response. The two weapons met with a deafening ring and a blinding flash of fire and magic. The concussion knocked the array of demons standing before the King backward, and staggered the Captain of the Horde. Its axe flew up, nearly torn from its grasp.