by Ben Hale
“How long has Elenyr been ill?” Raiden asked.
Jester shrugged. “Years, decades even. They’ve been planning this Accord for longer than we thought.”
“But have we delayed it? Or aided it?”
“You can’t possibly think they have allowed us to kill hundreds of Verinai. That’s beyond callous.”
“Callous? Or clever?” Raiden asked, rising to his feet to stretch his arm. “Our actions have distracted the people, making it easier for Elsin and Teriah to carry out their plan. Armies and patrols have sought the Soldier, and inquisitors from every kingdom have been inundated with calls for justice upon us.”
Jester growled and looked away. “I refuse to believe that our efforts have been futile.”
“We’ve fought and bled for this cause, but did not know they had an oracle guiding them. They could see the future, and we could hardly see our own target.”
“Are you giving up?” the assassin said, his tone sharpening.
Within the idyllic setting of Crescent Moon Farm, he wanted to say yes, but he could not betray his vow to his brother. But doubt and regret would not be freed either. He stood and leaned against the rail.
“If Teriah knows what we intend, how can we make any decision?”
“We use Alydian,” Jester said with a knowing smile. “A prospect that should please you.”
Raiden laughed. “You know it would please me to work with Alydian. But we hardly know her—and she’s still an oracle. She could be manipulating us just like Teriah.”
“You know Alydian?”
The young voice caused them both to look up, and Raiden spotted a small girl wedged into a crook of a tree high above them. She was hardly more than five, but she’d climbed to the top of the tree without fear. The resemblance to her mother was striking.
“She’s a friend,” Raiden said.
The girl smiled and levered herself down from the branch, descending with ease. Reaching the deck of the boat, she came up to Raiden and pointed to the sword.
“Do you fight for her?”
Raiden and Jester exchanged an amused look, and Raiden found the answer was quick in coming.
“We do.”
The girl put her hands on her hips and glared at Jester—a pose that matched Holly to perfection. “How can you doubt Alydian? If you’ve met her, you know you can trust her.”
“We don’t doubt her,” Jester said, his tone amused.
“Liar,” she said.
“Elba!” Holly called up. “Are you bothering our guests? Come down and help me with the laundry.”
“Yes, mother!” Elba called, and then glanced at Jester. “Dishonestly doesn’t look good on you.”
Foregoing the stairs, she caught a rope and lowered herself to the ground before scampering away. Raiden laughed at the girl’s dominating poise, and Jester joined him.
“I don’t think the world can handle two of Holly.”
“It will have to,” Raiden said.
They watched the woman and her daughter hang clothing on a line before Jester spoke. “We’ve been dancing with Alydian for months. It’s time we made a formal proposal.”
“But what can she do?” Raiden asked.
“I don’t care what she does,” Jester said. “But I’m not leaving Red behind. She has saved my life too many times to count.”
“I as well,” Raiden said, and felt a trickle of foreboding. Had Teriah known they would not abandon their friend? Was this the course she was counting on?
Abruptly Jester caught his arm and yanked him to the trunk of the tree, stabbing a finger at the hilltop. Recognizing the urgency in his motions, Raiden followed his arm to spot the lightcast bird soaring down to the farm.
Had the Verinai decided to come after them anyway? Or had Teriah resolved to follow and kill them at the farm? The questions bombarded Raiden’s thoughts as he scanned the area, searching for any hint of Verinai. There was none, but that didn’t guarantee they were not present. In unison they yanked their anti-magic swords from their scabbards.
The bird abruptly banked toward them, as if it knew where they were. Raiden tensed, drifting into the shadows as he readied himself for battle. Then he noticed the bird was not entirely yellow. He squinted, and managed to make out the streaks of other colors, including the thread of white.
“Alydian?” he spoke aloud, rising and stepping into view.
The falcon swooped under the branches and alighted on the railing. A trace of light leapt from its eyes and brushed across Raiden’s chest. On instinct he retreated, but the spell merely marked him. Then the bird cocked its head to the side and began to speak.
“I hope this message finds you in time,” Alydian’s distinct voice said. “And if it does, I need your help. We both know what is going to happen and want to stop it. It’s time we stepped out of the shadows. When my message is complete the messenger will disintegrate, so please listen well. Our mutual friend has been taken by our mutual enemy, and it’s time we fight together. I have an idea, one I think you’re going to like . . .”
Chapter 38: Unto the Enemy
Alydian departed Dawnskeep the morning after sending the message to Raiden. She’d kept the message purposefully vague on the chance a Verinai intercepted it. To ensure it went directly to Raiden, she’d added a trace of Raiden’s unique energy drawn from her own memory, ensuring the falcon would fly directly to him. But she had no way of knowing he would get the message.
Dressed and armored as Alethean, she rode a horse next to Devkin and Grogith, slipping out a small entrance of Dawnskeep with little fanfare. Then passed through Horizon and then took their journey south. Ferin and Toala were tasked with making it appear as if Alydian were still ill, a task made difficult by the increased demands for her time. Fortunately, they had Elenyr’s support.
Alydian recalled the conversation with her mother the previous evening, where Alydian had told her everything she knew. Elenyr had accepted the truth regarding the Soldier surprisingly well, but she’d disliked Alydian’s plan. Ultimately she’d agreed but insisted Alydian take Grogith as well as Devkin.
“Swear to me you will return,” Elenyr finally said.
“I will, mother.”
For six days they rode hard, passing the city of Rualia before turning east. The forest gave way to mountains and they climbed the winding road that marked the border between Griffin and the elven realm.
The road was well traveled and maintained. They passed shipments of goods guarded by battlemages. The Verinai cast them curious looks, and some surreptitiously conjured lightcast birds that flitted back the way they had come.
“They know we are coming,” Devkin murmured.
“They are suspicious of me,” Alydian said softly. “But they do not know my persona.”
“Not yet,” Devkin said.
The road twisted between two mountains and then climbed into a high pass, traveling between two peaks before descending into the valley beyond. With a large lake at the side, the valley was ringed by mountains. Its position outside of any kingdom and the difficult terrain made the guildhall of the Verinai defensible and mysterious.
“Boulder Lake should be over the next ridge,” Alydian said, pointing up the slope. “The city lies beyond it.”
Alydian struggled to contain her worry. Verisith was a city that only a handful of non-Verinai had been permitted to enter. At one time the Verinai had welcomed all into their halls, and even helped train single mages. But that time had long since faded, and Verisith had been built after the Verinai had embraced their arrogance. Now Verisith was a city steeped in mystery and rumor.
Aside from Teriah, few of the council had visited Verisith in decades, not since Elenyr had journeyed to meet with Elsin about rising tensions between Verinai and the other mage guilds. Alydian wondered how Elenyr would be received now.
The road descended into the valley and wound through a dense forest before rising again, turning back on itself to negotiate an escarpment. They passed a
wagon surrounded by Verinai battlemages and then reached the top of the ridge, and the edge of the lake.
Surrounded by cliffs, the lake was mirror smooth and reflected the neighboring peaks. A breeze found its way in and caressed the water, sending ripples across its surface. The ripples swept outward until they encountered the boulder that gave the lake its name.
As large as a farmhouse, the boulder rose from the water, providing the base for an enormous statue. Black and forbidding, the statue held a sword that touched his feet. Its opaque eyes seemed to follow them as they entered the valley.
Grogith’s eyes lifted to the statue and he muttered a curse. “What a monstrosity.”
“It may be stone,” Alydian said, “but it watches the road. You can be certain Guildmaster Elsin can see us.” She pulled on the reins and guided her horse around the lake.
On the south side of the lake the cliffs opened into a canyon. Like a great sword had sliced into the rock, the chasm threaded its way between massive peaks, its high walls climbing four hundred feet.
“The canyon of mages,” Alydian said, motioning to the symbols on the sides of the canyon.
Devkin’s scowl deepened as they entered the canyon, and Grogith appeared apprehensive. Although large light orbs were bracketed into the canyon walls, they could not overcome the sense of oppression the canyon exuded. The dark, cold walls felt like they could close at any moment, smashing them into oblivion. Alydian shuddered and blinked into her magesight to scan the stone, grateful she found no such magic present.
Shortly after entering the canyon they rounded a curve and a gate came into view. Built to span the gap, the gate contained a portcullis and a dozen battlemages. The captain brought them to a halt before the closed barrier.
“Runeguard,” he said, “what is your business here?”
Alydian bristled at his condescending tone, but Devkin didn’t seem deterred. “I am on direct errand from the Eldress Council and Alydian, here to speak with Master Mineva.”
“I will seek the direction of my masters,” he replied.
He spun his hand and a lightcast hummingbird appeared. It streaked away, leaving Alydian and her guards to wait. Her lips tightened at the delay. Elsin already knew they were there, but would want to communicate with her Verinai in Dawnskeep. They in turn would seek an audience with Alydian, whereupon Toala would mimic Alydian’s voice to confirm the order.
“Patience,” Devkin murmured. “Toala will do her part.”
Alydian drew a breath and released it, and mentally recited the oracle’s code as she waited. It was lengthy and boring, but passed the time as the portcullis was raised and lowered for another wagon to depart. After two hours she grew impatient, and even Devkin’s calm did not settle her, especially with the amused looks by the Verinai on the battlements.
A lightcast bird appeared and alighted on the captain’s shoulder. He listened to the order and then motioned to the guards.
“You are permitted to enter,” he said. “Captain Devkin, you and your party will be led to the keep, where Master Mineva is waiting for you.”
The way he said it, as if Devkin lacked the mental faculties to find it on his own, made Alydian’s blood boil. But she nudged her horse forward as the portcullis lifted, and they passed the barrier under the scrutiny of the guards. When they had left the wall behind, Alydian looked back—and caught a glimpse of the enchantments on the steel, which veritably shimmered with magic.
“They are more fortified than they appear,” Alydian said.
Devkin also looked back as the canyon took the wall from view. “They speak of peace yet prepare for war.”
The next wall was more ornate, and resembled a young dragon chained to the canyon walls. Visceral and menacing, the dragon’s stone features were so real that Alydian shuddered and looked away. They passed beneath the carving’s wings to reach the opposite side.
“Entity?” Devkin murmured.
Alydian shook her head. “A sentient,” she said. “A powerful one.”
They continued down the canyon, the view darkening as they descended. The next wall was built out of twin bears that held aloft the battlements, their gigantic forms also chained to the wall. Alydian swallowed as she looked at one of the beasts, disturbed by the glint in its opaque eyes.
The final gate was made of fire and light, the enchantments binding the power into solid form. Built so the wall itself could send gouts of fire into attackers, the wall shone in the gloom of the canyon, a beacon of destructive power that slumbered under its Verinai masters.
Alydian and her companions fell silent as they passed beneath the wall, and she could feel the heat on her face. She had last visited Verisith in her youth, and the canyon had been empty. The sheer volume of fortifications—before they even reached the city—bespoke intent, as if the Verinai were preparing for a specific assault. Even combined, the armies of Lumineia would be slaughtered in the canyon.
The canyon turned a sharp right, bringing the city of Verisith into view. A final pair of sentries were still being attached at the canyon’s end. At forty feet in height, the smooth black stone resembled great panthers, their features fixed in snarls of rage. They stood bound by long chains, allowing them to strike at anything in the breadth of the canyon.
Devkin threw Alydian an uneasy look, and she nodded in agreement. The world was just beginning to realize a war was coming, but the Verinai had been preparing for decades, and they intended to win. The fortifications, the training of their guild members, all showed that the Verinai had forged their guild into an army, and they had done so without anyone knowing.
Alydian passed between the two great panthers and the Verinai soldiers working to complete them, coming to a halt on a shelf of rock that faced a plunging ravine. The fissure fell away into darkness, and even with Alydian’s magic she could not discern the bottom. On the opposite side of the gap the fortress of Verisith occupied another shelf of rock.
Backed by a mountain and surrounded by cliffs, the city was only accessible from the canyon of mages. A trio of waterfalls cascaded from holes in the cliffs, the water feeding sparkling streams and ornate fountains.
The entrance road split to either side and descended to twin bridges that spanned the chasm. Taking the right one, Alydian led her guards down the slope and over the bridge to the city wall. Instead of a portcullis, a wall of aquaglass barred the way. As thick as the battlements, the barrier drained into the ground to permit them entry.
When they entered the city a group of Verinai were waiting for them, with Mineva at their head. Garbed in a flowing dress of crimson accented with black, she was resplendent and intimidating.
“Captain Devkin,” she said, her eyes flicking to Alydian. “Your messengers arrived shortly before you did.” She motioned to the pair of Runeguard standing nearby. “But they declined to say the purpose of your visit.”
Devkin smiled at Mineva. “Oracle Alydian sent me to speak to you regarding the events at Griffin. As I’m sure you are aware, the assassination of King Talin has incited the kingdom to rage. I hope that your recollection of those events will aid in locating the Soldier. The man attacked Alydian and nearly killed her, so she is keen on bringing him to justice.”
Mineva studied him for a moment before smiling and gesturing behind her. “I’m sure you are tired from your journey. We can speak inside.”
Alydian’s eyes flicked to the pair of Runeguard that had preceded her, and across the gap their eyes met. Jester smirked, his eyes sparkling with mischief. At his side, Raiden smiled at Alydian and inclined his head, sending a flutter into Alydian’s chest.
The Soldier had arrived.
Chapter 39: Verisith
Alydian wanted to speak with Raiden, but with so many Verinai about, they were certain to be overheard. He too seemed eager to talk, and Alydian wondered what he had to say. His smile was fleeting but she sensed it was meant for her, and she struggled to keep her excitement from bleeding onto her features.
Then
she noticed the rigidity to his frame, the faint note of force in his smile. Was he displeased to see her? Did he not feel as she did? Her excitement crumbled, and then he looked her way again and the fleeting smile returned. Relief flooded her. He did feel something—but why the tension? What else did he know?
Struggling to contain her impatience, Alydian turned her focus upon Verisith. The road curved away from the gate toward the center of the city. Alydian had only visited the city once in her youth, and despite her feelings toward the Verinai she found herself in awe. Buildings were elegant and beautiful, with walls of magically carved stone that lacked seam or joint.
Shops and factories dominated the street and bustled with activity. The factories resembled homes, yet they were full of enchanted plants grown for consumption and export. Stone mages crafted glass spheres at an astonishing rate, while the next factory imbued them with light.
The upper levels of the city were dedicated to homes, and broad terraces interconnected them with numerous arching pathways. A pair of streets sloped up from the city floor and curved to the upper levels, allowing wagons and riders to reach the higher levels of the city.
They reached the center throughway and turned toward the keep. Extending from the cliff at the rear of the city, the keep seemed to have grown directly from the mountain. The first two floors were open, with expansive pillars that supported the higher levels. Balconies were in abundance, their size suggesting they were private quarters for high-ranked officers in the guild.
The keep’s structure curved in impossible sweeps, the supports seeming too frail to hold up the balconies. Light seeped from the stone to display beautiful figurines of Elsin and other Verinai in an epic victory over reavers and dragons. Then the light morphed and another image appeared, this time of a small force of Verinai overpowering an army of magicless.