by Tony Donadio
“This is the Ring of the Killravens,” he said.
Gerard examined it with fascination. “I’ve never heard of it before,” he replied. “What does it do?”
“It is an artifact of power,” Danor explained. “And it has been passed down from monarch to monarch since the beginning of our family’s dynasty. Aldran himself found it in the ruins of Janthala, and tamed its power to serve our line. None but a Killraven can wield it.”
“A Janthalan artifact!” the prince exclaimed. “And you used it to defeat the demons?”
“Defeat?” Danor asked. His voice was bitter. “Hardly. You saw yourself when you arrived that we were within moments of being killed. But it did give me the strength to hold them off — long enough, fortunately, for you to rally the palace defenses.” A wry smile appeared briefly on his lips as he placed the ring back on his finger. “And to deliver that ‘bloody nose’ you mentioned earlier.”
“We need to find Randia,” Elena interrupted. “I’m going to scry for her.”
“Yes, please do that,” Danor agreed. He walked back to the edge of the platform and looked out again to the east. “While you search I’ll try to evaluate our tactical situation. Gerard, will you help me? My command of the tower’s enchantment is crude at best.”
“Of course,” the prince replied. “I’m not nearly as skilled as mother, but I’ll do what I can.”
Gerard strode to his father’s side. He drew his wand, and its tip began to glow with a soft, silver magic. He swept it before him in a wide arc. The shimmering dome flared brightly where the wand passed over it, describing a large circle on its surface.
When it was complete the inscribed section of the dome shimmered. The view of the city within it blurred, and then seemed to rush forward, much as their vision had before with the Queen. The image settled on the glowing hellgate, and the legions of demons still marching through it.
The King nodded in approval. At his request, the prince shifted the scene displayed in the silver portal, moving it about the city. Danor’s face fell when he saw what it had to reveal.
~
Elena turned away, satisfied that Gerard’s conjuring would be adequate for the King’s need. Her ability to use the tower’s scrying dweomer was greater than her son’s, and she would need every bit of it to find her daughter. Only the spell’s creator — the Archmage himself — was her equal at wielding its power.
Once again her eyes developed their faraway look, and once again she experienced a rushing shift of viewpoint. She found herself looking down at the palace from above.
A broken equine body lay on the palisade. The guards had covered it as best they could with a shroud of blankets, but she could see the outline of the pegasus’ mangled wings beneath its contours. The cover was soaked through with blood and gore.
There’s no sign of Randia and Stefan, she thought. They couldn’t have been riding her when she was killed. Unless the demons took them? But why? The enemy was out to kill the royal family, not to capture it. And Windheart would never have carried them into a flight of demons. No, something else is going on here.
She pursed her lips, frowning. Why was the pegasus here at all? She had to have seen the demons before she approached. She could have outrun them and escaped, but she didn’t. She was clearly killed above the palace, but she would never have left Randia and Stefan when there was such danger at hand. Unless she had no other choice …
Of course, she realized suddenly. That had to be it. Oh, my poor, brave Windheart!
I think Randia and Stefan are somewhere in or near the city, she said through the bond. Too near for Windheart to have picked them up and fled, or she would have done so. Her death must have been a diversion, to draw the flying demons away from wherever they were hiding.
She felt a surge of shock and horror through their link from the King and the prince. I can’t think of anything else that makes sense, Danor finally agreed.
They wouldn’t have taken Windheart just to go down to the city, though, Gerard thought.
No, they wouldn’t, Elena concurred. They would have gone somewhere else, somewhere more private.
The Queen sent her viewpoint rocketing dizzyingly up the side of Mount Cascade. Somewhere high up, where they might have been more easily spotted by flying demons, she thought. Somewhere in the bluffs or up the mountain, perhaps?
~
The King looked at his son. “Your mother will find her,” he said.
Gerard could tell that his father’s voice was trying to project reassurance. He nodded, and the two of them returned their attention to the scrying portal.
“I’m sorry that I never told you about the ring,” Danor volunteered suddenly, without warning.
Gerard looked at him in surprise. He hadn’t expressed any resentment over the matter. Only now that the King mentioned it did he realize how stung he had felt at being excluded from the secret. His father had read him better than he had himself.
“Did Aron know?” he asked tentatively.
“No,” the King replied. “Only your mother and grandfather knew. Your grandfather, because he is the one who gave it to me.” His voice took on a note of amusement. “And your mother, because it is impossible for me to keep a secret from her. Literally.”
“But you would have told him eventually?” Gerard pursued.
“It would have been passed down to your brother in time,” Danor agreed. “That responsibility must now fall to you.”
Gerard started in shock. Amid the crisis of dealing with the attack there had been no time to think about the future. Now the full meaning of Aron’s death finally hit home. Not only had he lost the older brother that he had idolized since childhood, but he was going to have to take his place. He was now heir to the throne of Carlissa.
“Your grandfather insisted on keeping it hidden,” Danor continued. “And it was hard to argue with his caution. Its existence was the most closely guarded secret of our dynasty. It was instrumental to Aldran’s rise to the throne two hundred years ago.”
“How does it work?” Gerard asked.
“It is an amplifier,” Danor explained. “It magnifies the wielder’s power, and in keeping with his particular strengths and skills.”
Gerard frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Well, in my case, our family’s magic manifested itself not in a skill for wizardry, but in prowess as a warrior. It would have done much the same for Aron. For you it will undoubtedly increase your abilities with magic, and by many times.”
“Was the ring the source of Grandfather’s power, then?” Gerard asked. “Is it what made him the Archmage?”
“No,” the King said. His voice was suddenly filled with a profound respect.
“Your grandfather’s mastery of the ring was unparalleled, but he rarely used it — at least, not to my knowledge. And he never did so openly. He became Archmage on his own merits. None of the works that earned him that title were achieved through its power.”
Gerard nodded. The two of them fell silent and returned to their grim survey of the city below.
~
Elena’s sight was racing along the line of bluffs on the southern side of the valley. Perhaps somewhere here? she thought.
Flying demons patrolled the air above the city and before the cliff-wall, but she saw nothing that looked out of the ordinary. Except … was that a knot of them, hovering over one section of the bluff? And did it look like they were searching for something?
Her mind’s vision blurred again, and suddenly she was floating among the creatures. Scrying so close to them risked detection, she knew, but it couldn’t be helped. Excited that she might have found a clue to her daughter’s whereabouts, she looked quickly around.
She saw a demon lying on the rocks far below. Its face was caved in, sporting two arch-shaped marks. Pegasus hooves, she concluded with a grim smile. Her heart raced with anticipation.
She looked up. One demon was coming out of a narrow crack in the rock that lay behi
nd a patch of earth. A young tree that had been torn out by the roots lay at its side. Again she rushed forward.
As soon as she saw the hidden glade she knew that it was where Randia and Stefan had gone. The privacy of the little pool would have made it an ideal retreat for her aquaphilic daughter, and the perfect trysting place to bring her lover. Easily accessible only from the air, they would have needed Windheart to carry them up to it. The signs of a hastily abandoned picnic only confirmed her suspicions.
Several demons were searching the chamber. One of them, a large and powerful creature with an unusually strong aura of magic, turned in her direction. With a shock, the Queen saw that it held Randia’s lute in its hands. With another shock, she saw that it was grinning at her.
“Much too good for a common wizard,” it said thoughtfully. Its voice had a harsh, grating quality, like fingernails being scraped along a chalkboard. “Or one of those spineless priests. The Archmage himself, perhaps?”
It held up the lute and, with a wicked smile, crushed it in its massive claws.
“Or the Queen, searching for her brat? Yes, that must be it. Don’t worry, elf-witch. We’ll find her soon enough.”
Fury clouded Elena’s thoughts. Her power stabbed out, and the creature’s head snapped backward in an explosion of sudden agony.
Before the monster could recover and strike back, though, she was gone. The little pool faded around her, and she found herself back in the Sky Dome. The King and the prince turned to face her. Her eyes lost their faraway look as she met their gaze.
~
“I couldn’t find Randia and Stefan,” Elena said at last. “But I found where they went. A hidden glade in the southern cliffs. The demons are hunting them.”
“There are caves and ravines that run all through that part of the bluffs,” Danor said. “If Randia knows them, she might evade a search for some time.”
A smile touched Gerard’s lips.
“A hidden cave complex?” he asked. “If I know my sister she’ll have explored every inch of it. That gives me hope that she might still escape. Is there a way into or out of the city from there?”
“Some of the caves lead to openings on the side of the cliff,” Danor replied. “I suppose they might contrive to climb down into the Upper City, but it would be dangerous. They’d be better off hiding in the hills.”
“They may not have a choice,” Elena interjected. “Once the demons pick up their trail they’ll be hunted down, no matter how well Randia knows those caves.”
“Then we’ll need to find her first,” Gerard said. “Mother, do you think you could do that? Maybe make contact with her?”
The Queen shook her head.
“I don’t dare try. One of the demons spotted my scrying. They’ll be on the lookout for it now. If I found her, I might end up giving her away to them.”
“Then we’ll have to trust her to make her own way to safety,” Gerard said decisively.
A foreboding silence fell among the three members of the royal family. Danor broke it by turning back to the portal.
“They’ll start moving out, soon,” he said grimly. “They’ve already marshaled an overwhelming force around the amphitheater. Their general has us, and he knows it.”
The prince started. “Do you think the city is lost, then?” he asked. His voice sounded shaken.
“I don’t see how we can withstand them,” Danor replied. “Not against this many, and not without reinforcements. When their main force attacks it’ll overrun the entire valley.”
He leaned in toward the viewing port, looking at it intently.
“Can you get us closer?” he asked suddenly. “I want a look at this general of theirs.”
“You don’t think it’s Emil?” Elena asked.
Danor shook his head.
“Zomoran may be calling himself a Warlord now, but he’s no military commander. Someone else is directing this attack.” He paused, and then added: “Or some thing.”
“I can try,” Gerard said. The image in the viewport shifted, flying down toward the hellgate.
“There,” Danor said suddenly, pointing. “About halfway between the dome and the marketplace.”
The image slowed to a stop. In its center they saw a demon with a snake-like head perched atop a long, serpentine neck. Its skin was scaly and its body reptilian, with long, slender limbs. Although it looked comparatively small and weak for a demon, something in its bearing — and in the deference it received from the monsters around it — filled them with dread.
“So powerful,” Elena whispered.
Danor glanced at her. She was staring at the creature, but with her eyes closed, as if looking at it with an inner sight. Her voice was trembling. “I’ve never sensed anything like it.”
Nor will you ever again, Queen Elena, a voice hissed menacingly.
The three started. They had heard the voice not with their ears, but in their minds. It spoke softly, but with a commanding intensity that struck them with fear and awe.
The King whirled back toward the portal. The demon had turned to face it from the other side. It’s single, great eye was looking right at them. A shiver ran down his spine as he realized, without a doubt, that it could see them just as well as they could see it.
“By the Light, Emil,” Elena whispered, in a voice filled with horror. “What have you unleashed on our world?”
“Who are you?” Danor demanded aloud. “What do you want?”
I am Borr, the mental voice replied. Demon Lord of the Horde. And what I want, Danor Killraven, is your kingdom. And your death.
The transparent ward around them suddenly flared a bright red. Elena’s eyes flew open, and she staggered. The viewing port that Gerard had drawn on its surface exploded in a shower of incandescent sparks. The dome went black, as though night had fallen on the city. They found themselves standing in darkness.
“What happened?” Danor demanded anxiously. “Elena, are you all right?”
“I’m not hurt,” she replied. She reached out tentatively to touch the now inky surface of the shield around them.
“The tower ward is holding,” she explained with relief. “The demon’s spell can’t penetrate it.” She turned to face them, eyes haunted. “But it’s blocking the dome’s scrying enchantment completely. We’re blind.”
On the Hunt
Gorath opened its eyes. The pain in its head was finally beginning to fade.
Red with fury at the Queen’s attack, it searched the glade for her presence. It found nothing. She had gone.
“Are you all right, captain?” one of the demons asked.
Gorath backhanded it almost absentmindedly. It spun through the air and landed in the pool with a loud splash.
“Send for more fliers,” it ordered. “Have them search this entire section of the cliffs. Have any sign of them or where they could have gone brought to me immediately.”
So, I am on the trail of your brat, it thought angrily. That much is certain now, Elena Starlight, if it wasn’t before.
Lord Borr will have plans for you, so I won’t have the opportunity to pay you back for that insult. But I can make her suffer for it instead. And if I return with the head of a royal that escaped our net, so much the better. Especially given how spectacularly the “Captain of the Horde” seems to have botched its job at the palace.
It grinned evilly, fangs gleaming in the rays of the mid-day sun that shone into the chamber from above. Yes, this turn of events might work out quite well for me …
A Memory of Death
Randia probed the hard surface of the wall as they went. The dim light from the opening to the ravine faded quickly, until it was little more than a dark shadow in a field of darker shadow that grew behind them. Then the wall turned a corner to the left, and the light was lost.
For a time they walked together in blackness. Randia seemed familiar enough with the way not to pause, and led them steadily onward.
After a while, though, her steps began to falter.
Stefan felt her hand start to tremble in his. Then, softly at first, he heard the sound of her weeping.
“Randi, are you all right?” he asked.
“Blackness,” she said.
Her voice was barely a whisper. There was nothing in it, now, of the confident princess he knew so well. Instead he heard a frightened girl, alone in the dark, shattered by grief.
“It’s all right, Randi,” he said. He moved closer to her and slipped an arm around her waist to hold her. Her entire body was shaking uncontrollably. Her breath came in panicked gasps as she clutched at him.
“Blackness!” she repeated, sobbing. “We fell into blackness, Stefan. The pain! They tore us apart!”
The flat, purposeful efficiency that had kept her going during their escape from the glade was shattering like crystal under the blow of a hammer. He caught her as her legs suddenly buckled beneath her. All the emotions she had been holding back seemed to be breaking loose at once, overwhelming her with grief and despair.
“I’m here,” he said simply. “Let it out, darling.”
He held her firmly in his arms as her tears flowed in the darkness. He stroked her hair, trying to soothe her.
She cried for a long time. Although he couldn’t see it, he felt her raise her face toward his when her sobbing finally began to subside.
“Thank you, Stefan,” she said.
“You’re welcome,” he said gently.
She slowly stepped away from him, trying to steady herself.
“Can you walk?”
“Yes.”
Once again they clasped hands. She reached for the wall on their left, and they continued to make their way through the cave.
They walked in silence for a while. Finally Randia broke it.
“I think I’m OK now,” she said firmly.
“I’m glad,” he answered. “You seemed … I was worried about you. I’ve never seen you like that.”
“I was an idiot,” she said. Her voice was rueful, but matter of fact.
“For what?”
“For holding my bond to Windheart as I did. I should have known better. I almost got us both killed.”