by P. G. Thomas
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They were not the only ones in the Bright Coast experiencing a sleepless night, as on the north side of the Key River others watched for threats. Fifteen figures glided their boats close to a floating weir. After silently pulling them out, they folded them flat. Reaching the top of the stairs, they scanned the area to make sure they were safe, and then they carried their boats to a dark alley, hiding them behind trash.
In the dark shadows, the three shortest, who had normal ears and long beards, moved to the front. They were dwarves, the eyes that would lead the resistance fighters who stole through the night, hoping to steal more. Splitting into three groups, so if one were intercepted, the mission would be able to continue, they disappeared into the dark. Penetrating dwarf eyesight found the desired routes in the faintly lit streets and dark alleys, and sensitive elf ears swiveled in all directions listening for threats as they headed to their objective; the amphitheater. Some might have thought them mad, going so deep into the Darkpaye-controlled section of the Bright Coast. However, their leader Panry, he had no madness in his mind, only vengeance for wrongs that needed to be righted in his heart. He had done it before, survived, and rejected failure like Alron Icefeather had taught him, as the rule of Zymse had to end. Ten hours later, with too many close calls to count, all fifteen once again met at the selected spot.
As they huddled in the dark, Panry pulled out a small magic orb of light, “Oxron, let me go instead!”
“No, we all agreed that he who selected the short straw would get the first chance to kill Zymse, and Mother has blessed myself.”
“You do know it is a suicide mission. Success or not, there is not any way out. They will outnumber you, and we will not have any chance to help you.”
“If we fail, then you need to finish my task. I am Earth Guard as we all are, and we cannot fail Mother. If we do, Zymse will not expect any other attack, and your task shall be easier.”
Panry wiped the frustration from his face, “Icefeather, your father, Alron, is proud of you. Go now, but this night we will celebrate, and you need to be present.”
“I know, as he who draws the short straw also has to purchase the first round. After that, it shall be your gold that purchases my drinks, and I shall have much to celebrate.” As Oxron finished his sentence, he pointed to three other Earth Guards, and they disappeared into the dark.
Panry turned to the three dwarves, “Your job is done for now, and Mother thanks you. Wait here, and when Zymse is dead, your help with the journey south we shall need.” Then he tapped the shoulder of the solo Dawnfalcon, his partner and friend for so long. The other Earth Guards also split into pairs, and then there were only three dwarves standing in the dark, caressing the cold steel of their large axes for warmth.
Finding their designated spot outside of the amphitheater, Panry and Babartin waited for the patrolling guards. The trek to their destination had taken longer than expected, and soon, the first sun would start its battle with the night, so they had to get into place fast. From their packs, they removed the rare cloaks saved from the Earth Guard training halls before it was deserted and hastily donned them on. As the Darkpaye guards approached, the elves each extracted a long tube and waited. Then placing a small berry in it, raised it to their lips, and taking a huge breath, blew into the tube. With six guards, each repeated their actions two more times. When the berries slammed into the guards, they slapped their necks, like a mosquito had bitten them, driving the magical juices into their bodies. When all had received the message from the Earth Guard blowguns, Panry and Babartin waited a few minutes, and then they stepped out of the shadows in plain sight. The Darkpaye guards kept walking, and they never saw the rebels since Mother’s magic clouded their minds. When the guards had passed, both approached the outer wall of the amphitheater, and from his pack, Panry removed a small grappling hook attached to a thin diameter rope. He began rotating it in a circle, and when sufficient speed had been generated, released it. It rocketed into the dark sky, and when adequate velocity had been lost, it plummeted back to the ground, catching the roof. Fastening their cloaks, when the last button was touched, they both disappeared from view, being invisible to all, except for those who wore the same, as these were the legendary elfin Earth Guard Cloaks of Invisibility. Panry looked at the green ghost-like image beside him and then reached down, touched his Earth Guard boots, causing small spikes to extend from the toes. Grasping the rope, he started to climb up the outside wall, making it to the top as quickly as possible. Once there, he reached down, waiting until he felt Babartin’s hand, and then hoisted him to the roof before retrieving the hook and rope. As they surveyed the roof in the dark, they could hear the guards walking. He knew they would be unable to hear the other Earth Guards on the roof, as their elfin boots would make no sounds. In the predawn hours, Panry and Babartin stood silently, waiting for the suns to expose those who sought to guard their enemy, and began searching to find a spot that would provide their best shot. Caressing their short bows and swords hidden inside their cloaks, they knew this day that one or both would taste blood.
Chapter 23
The next morning, Darkath showed up early at the amphitheater with four guards, and his featureless rich wife clinging to his arm, hoping to avoid the crowds. However, he had failed to arrive early enough, as even the lines designated for immigrant citizens were long. After an hour, they finally arrived at the gate where an attendant was stamping each hand of those who wanted in. Without thinking, Darkath and his wife both extended theirs, accepting the mark of attendance, just like the four guards did.
Including Ryan, who had morphed into a guard similar to the others. [Virus detected. Engage countermeasures.] Once inside the building, he began to feel strange. Scratching the ‘O’ that had been stamped on his hand, he licked it, tried to wipe it off, but it remained. Stumbling out of the formation, he leaned against the wall grimacing in pain.
Seeing this, Darkath went to his side, telling the rest to stay with his wife. He saw Ryan’s pained look and then was astonished. He watched Ryan’s hand turn blue like it had been frozen, but then saw it turn bright red like it was placed in a fire, and the entire time, Ryan tried to mask the incredible pain.
[Countermeasures ineffective. Amputation Required.] The end of Ryan’s finger transformed into a thin sharp scalpel that cut around the ‘O’, and then he tried to pull the skin off. However, the stamp was not normal, and he could see wispy black tendrils extending from the layer of skin, which were trying to penetrate into his body. Through clenched teeth, a look of pain, a quick pull, he ripped the origin of the agony from his hand, dropping to the ground, and breathed a sigh of relief. [Amputation successful. Virus defeated. Engage healing.] As Ryan calmed down, the skin on his hand grew back, and slowly the pigments on the new skin began to darken, forming an ‘O’. He looked at Darkath, whispered, “Can’t you feel it burn?”
The actions of Ryan failed to astonish Darkath because he only had one thought: Zymse. His loyalty enchantment, he used the Darkening, and then looked at the mark on his own hand. I am doomed.
Ryan took up his position, following the rest to the main auditorium, where Darkath found a seat for his wife, instructing the three guards to stay with her. Then the two started walking to the distant stage, and once there, they headed to the side entrance. A guard inspected each attendance stamp, and when satisfied, he let them pass into the inner rooms of the stage. Even though they had arrived early, Zymse was still absent, so Darkath led Ryan to a social area where a large number of the immigrant nobles had gathered.
*******
All three suns had crested the morning horizon, and Babartin followed the transparent green image of his Earth Guard captain to their selected spot. Panry scanned the rooftop crowded with several dozen black-clad guards, and mixed in with them he saw similar translucent, hazy-green images of the other Earth Guards. Watching in the opposite directions, ensuring that no unsuspecting sentry stumbled into the unseen rebel assassins,
they began their long wait.
*******
Sunlight streaming into Eric’s bedroom window caused his tired eyes to open, ending the tossing and turning from the nightmares. Knowing that Lauren would be waiting downstairs in a state of uncontrollable anxiety, he pulled the covers over his head.
Ten minutes later, there was a knock on his door, and he heard an excited Amber speaking in elf, “Lauren and Steve are absent.”
Pushing the covers aside, dressing, without acknowledging her, he raced to Logan’s room.
As he burst in, Logan rolled over, “What’s wrong?”
“Lauren and Steve aren’t here. Did she tell you anything?”
He sat up, “No, after I went to bed, I never saw her last night.”
“Do your arms sense her? Is she in danger?”
“Sister didn’t give me my powers to protect Lauren. She gave them to me so I could kill Zymse. I don’t know if she’s in danger or not.”
“Get dressed and meet us downstairs,” then Eric headed to the ground level to see if Lauren had left a note or any clues. On the dining room table, he found the bag of magic, which was missing two of the flying horses.
*******
The suns were high in the sky, but in the dark corners of the theater, more than mice stirred. Having been watching for long hours, the image they thought they would never see walked towards them. Waiting as long as possible, he watched as the figure approached. Panry had told him to wait until he was beside his target before attacking, but he wanted the oppressor to see the elf who would free the lands from his evil. When Zymse was in striking distance, Oxron broke the invisibility spell by pulling back his cloak with a sword in hand and lunged. However, his attack suddenly stopped when a strange emotionless black-clad guard materialized out of nowhere, his hands and face covered with an elaborate scale-like continuous tattoo, and in his hand was Oxron’s sword, which he broke in half. The other invisible Earth Guards seeing Oxron appear had also stepped forward with weapons drawn, which caused more of the strange beings to appear. Releasing his broken sword, Oxron pulled out a long dagger, which he aimed at the neck of the guard. When it made contact, the thick rock-like skin deflected away the lethal blow. Then he felt a hand wrap around his neck, felt the pressure building, crushing his windpipe, and saw his Earth Guard comrades in a similar situation. Mother, I have failed you, and then everything went black.
*******
Ryan and Darkath had heard the announcement to take their seats, but they were at the back of the packed room. Darkath tried to push his way to the front with Ryan behind him, wanting desperately to see Zymse before the announcement. When they were close to the door, the flow changed, and guards started to push the guests back into the room.
A regally dressed man stepped inside the door who addressed all. “There has been an attack on the great Zymse Darpac, but as it was unsuccessful, he is safe. Orders have been issued to vacate the halls, so we can protect the new King of Calicon, and as such, you will have to listen to the announcement from here.” The man then exited the room with the doors closing behind him.
Ryan pulled Darkath to the side, “What do we do now?”
He looked at the ‘O’ on his hand, wondering what was going to happen, “We are outnumbered, and they will have increased the security, so we will have to wait until after the announcement.”
Ryan knew he could transform into anything desired, storming the halls to find Zymse, but he also knew such an attack would give his enemy time to react, calling for the Darkening. So he waited, wanting to be right beside Zymse for the surprise.
*******
When the stage curtains pulled back, a man dressed in flowing, expensive-looking robes walked out to greet the audience. As he did, he broke two small golden sticks in his hands, tucking the broken pieces into his pockets, and with each step he took, grew in height by a foot. After ten steps, the now large man stopped, looking out to the gathered masses, and welcomed all. His voice, magically enchanted, filled the large natural complex, and the crowd went quiet. “Today you will witness history because it is a glorious day. Today, we crown the new King of Calicon; the great Father Zymse Darpac, Lord of Darkpaye House.” The crowd had mixed reactions, and while some cheered, others hurled insults. The man on the stage continued, “Many years ago, Father Zymse arrived back in Darkpaye, and he told us of the bounties here. He spoke the truth, and all that followed prospered, including the misfortunate and misguided people of Calicon. It was through his gracious governance and generous guidance that these lands thrived. There is more that he can do, more that he wants to do, but first, he wants to take his rightful place as King of the lands. All please rise, and witness the coronation of your new King, his Royal Majesty, King above all others, Father Zymse Darpac, Lord of Darkpaye House.”
The crowd went quiet, and even though they failed to understand why, all stood. As the curtains parted at the back, Zymse Darpac walked forward. When he was standing beside the large Master of Ceremonies, he spread his arms out wide, smiled, and then grabbed his neck, trying to pull out the arrow from it, which had suddenly appeared.
The distance, while not the longest an elf short bow had ever fired, was still significant, and the elf legend of accuracy proved to be true once again. Panry looked to where the birth of Zymse death had been born, and he saw two Earth Guards with swords extended engaging black-clad soldiers. Babartin tugged at Panry, wanting to go to their aid, but he told him to stay, turning his vision back to the stage. Zymse you are tricky, but it does not be that easy.
Lauren, her eye pressed against an open knothole, had seen Zymse walk out onto the stage, and she was wondering what had happened to Ryan, but then she saw Zymse grab his neck and fall. Starting to jump up and down, she covered her mouth to hold back the excited, shocked screams of joy.
When the curtains at the back of the stage opened again, Zymse walked out, looking at the body still twitching at the front. As he looked up from his dying doppelganger, he smiled and then reached for the arrow, which had unexpectedly appeared in his eye socket, and he also fell onto the stage.
Lauren, still watching, failed to understand what had happened, and then she thought back to the night at Pintar’s where Ryan had transformed into her image. Wondering how many replicas Zymse had created, she was also concerned how many elf arrows would find their false mark.
Panry saw the second Zymse fall to the ground, whispered to Babartin to hold his position, and they watched the black-clad guards on the roof attack the next Earth Guard pair. There were only four Earth Guard archers left on the roof, and he knew that Zymse had more tricks, “Babartin, is your bow ready?” Then his sensitive deer ears heard his invisible friend nock an arrow.
When the curtains lifted, three identical images of Zymse looked out over the crowd, and then they all stepped forward. With each step, they split into two images, continuing to do so, until almost fifty different figures of Zymse walked forward. The Master of Ceremonies looked down at the two dead replicas on the stage. “Father Zymse wanted to provide entertainment for this day, realizing the rebels would rise to the challenge,” and then he pointed to the open roof on both sides of the large structure. As the crowd turned to look at one of the two different points, they saw the black-clad guards high above holding the struggling elves, who were then pushed off the roof. The Master of Ceremonies continued, “It would appear their expectations—have been lowered.”
Turning his head away, Babartin was unable to watch those he called friend fall to their death. Panry had his eyes focused on the stage, trying to figure out if one of the images was actually Zymse.
Even though Lauren heard the large man on the stage, she was unable to see where he pointed, failing to understand the references. Hearing the screams from both the crowds and the falling elves, she heard the sickening thud when the soft bodies met the hard ground and turned away in horror. Steve quickly moved to pull her into his chest, muffling any screams or curses she might cry out.
&
nbsp; Mother, your sons are brave, so welcome them into your home. Tell them all, I am sorry. Panry then let out a low soft whistle, barely audible, and the remaining Earth Guards stepped forward, dropping their cloaks, they fired their arrows at the stage. Numerous images winked out, but the rebels continued to fire arrows in quick succession, so fast that their hands were a blur. On the stage, image after image winked out, but on the roof, black-clad guards rushed the rebel assassins. At the last second, they dropped their bows, unsheathed their swords, and turned to battle the threats that now outnumbered them.
Only Panry remained unseen, and he cursed under his breath, as no image had flinched with pain. Zymse, you bastard, show yourself, as your death, its price is too high. With six images still on stage, he was unsure if he could shoot enough arrows before the roof guards would attack him. Panry, hearing the disturbing sounds around him, never removed his eyes from the stage, waiting for Zymse to grow tired of his games, and to expose himself. When the crowd turned from the spectacle on the roof back to the front, the remaining images began to wink out, and Panry smiled.
Then there was only one left, and Zymse grinned, “Thus ends the entertainment portion of today’s festivities.” The crowd, failing to understand all they had seen or heard, went quiet, but then he called to continue the ceremony.
Panry nocked an arrow.
Zymse took to his knee when a regally dressed young lady came out onto the stage, and in her hands, a pillow that held a royal gem encrusted crown.
Panry ripped his cloak open, raised his bow, and saw the madness in Zymse eyes. Shooting his arrow, he whispered a prayer to Mother. Watching the arrow speed to its target, he thought he had won—he was wrong.