The Lion's Crypt (The Emberlyn Chronicles Book 2)

by Michael K. Rose

  The snow sprite smashed into the face of the lead Dourosh, sending him to the ground. Two more sprites zipped past Faric and dropped the next two Dourosh. He didn’t see but heard several more, and the yells of rage from their pursuers told him the sprites had no intention of letting up.

  They ran for another minute before Faric finally slowed and looked back. There was no sign of the snow sprites or the Dourosh. He squinted at the snow behind them, though. There was a dark trail following them. He frowned and looked at Arric.

  “Cousin, you’re bleeding!”

  Arric nodded and looked down at his stomach. “It’s deep. I cast a numbness spell to help me ignore the pain, but when that wears off, I’m not going to be able to go any farther.”

  “Then we’ll cast another. Keep the pain at bay until—”

  “Until what, Faric? Laeock was the one with the strongest healing magic. I fear this is beyond even your abilities. Healing magic always gave you trouble. Don’t try to deny it.”

  Faric shook his head. “No. We’ll think of something. When Anneli contacts me, I’ll tell her to teach me something. Something powerful. I will do nothing else but work on mastering it until I can heal you.”

  Arric smiled. “I know you would try, Cousin, but save your energy for other things. The magic of destruction is where your strengths lie. It’s no fault of your own; it’s just the role you were meant to play. It’s what makes you good at what you do.”

  Faric kicked at the snow and cursed. “No! What good am I if I can’t even save my own kin? Damn it, Arric!”

  Arric put his hand on Faric’s shoulder. “I’m not in the grave yet, and those sprites won’t keep the Dourosh busy forever. Let’s get somewhere warm and safe, and then maybe we can figure something out.”

  Faric nodded. His cousin was right. “You can still walk?”

  “That run did my injury no good, but I feel no pain as of now. I’ll keep reinforcing the numbness spell as long as I have the strength to do so. And I’ll help you fight if it comes down to it. I see we’ve both lost our bows, though, so if the Dourosh catch up, it’s going to be fierce.” Arric took a deep breath and held his hand over his wound. “That shelter we spotted a few days ago is still miles away, and it doesn’t look like the snow will let up again. Lead the way, Captain. I’ll follow as long as I am able.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Artifacts of Power

  Penny sat in the palace’s cavernous library, staring at the weapon sitting on the table in front of her. Even sheathed, she could feel the power emanating from it. It seemed to want to find its way into her hand once again. She hadn’t felt that when she’d taken it from Lanioc’s crypt; it had only begun after she’d wielded it during their flight from the ruins of Eranion. The whole way back, she’d felt the pull of the sword, but she had taken strength from William, who’d never wandered far from her side. If she’d been alone or with people she wasn’t close to, she felt certain she would have succumbed to the sword’s desire.

  Anneli came up from behind, sat beside her and placed a book on the table. The queen had spent half an hour searching through the shelves of the library but now seemed to have found what she was looking for. Penny looked down at the tome. It was beautifully bound in red leather, but it was far from the most ornate book in the library. There was no intricate tool work on the cover and no gilding on the edges of the pages. The simplicity of the book betrayed its antiquity.

  Anneli opened the book and leafed through the pages. The script was different from modern Lanoshi writing, but Penny could work out the letters.

  “In order to defeat Dourok, Lanioc crafted four objects of great power,” Anneli said, pointing at the text. “Each was tied to one form of magic. The Lion’s Crown, which you have seen, is tied to the magic of destruction; the Lion’s Shield to protection; the Lion’s Scepter to healing; and the Lion’s Orb to understanding.”

  Penny furrowed her brow. “The sword is not one of the four objects?”

  Anneli shook her head and turned the page. “The Lion’s Sword was crafted later, near the end of Lanioc’s life. Dourok had gone into hiding by that point, so no one knows what compelled Lanioc to create it. Perhaps he feared Dourok would reemerge to challenge him again. He imbued the weapon with all four types of magic, making it the most powerful object ever created. There are some who say that in doing so he put a piece of his soul into it.”

  Penny looked at the sword again. The idea that she and she alone had the ability to wield this weapon still made her feel dizzy. “And where are the other three? The shield, the scepter and the orb?”

  “Lost. I wish I could tell you more than that. They are simply lost. Two thousand years is a very long time.”

  “Could Dourok have any of them?”

  “It’s possible, but he could not use them. They were crafted to resist his magic. The only reason he would collect them would be to keep them out of our hands.”

  “And this sword… why was it the only object of the five to be placed in Lanioc’s sarcophagus?”

  “Because while it was believed that later rulers might be able to use the other artifacts, everyone knew this sword was too powerful. It would take someone truly special to wield it. And if that person ever came along”—she smiled at Penny—“she would know where to find it.”

  Penny though back to the still body lying in the sarcophagus. Apart from the sword and a suit of armor, that sarcophagus had been empty when the crypt had been sealed. Not even Anneli could say how Lanioc had ended up there or why he had not decayed.

  Anneli slid the book over to Penny. “In here is everything that is known about the sword, taken from accounts written during Lanioc’s lifetime. We cannot confirm that all these stories are reliable, but as you begin to train with the sword, you will soon be able to separate the true from the false.”

  “Why didn’t you let me read this before I retrieved the sword?”

  “I didn’t want your head filled with things that would scare you. I felt it would be better if you went for the sword with an innocent mind.”

  “What would scare me?”

  Anneli chewed on her lower lip. “This weapon… it seems to be unique among all magical objects. When you wielded it, did you not feel some… intelligence?”

  Penny nodded. She’d felt it then, and she still felt it now. “Is it alive?”

  Anneli shrugged. “Lanioc alone knows. But based on the accounts of those who witnessed him with it, that is certainly the impression that we have been given.” She lowered her voice. “In that book is a story that his servants would find him wandering the halls of his castle at night, naked and carrying the sword. Whispering to it. Or to something.”

  The energy radiating from the sword surged, and both women looked toward it. Anneli scooted her chair a few inches away from the table. “Penny, the elders and I will do what we can to help you harness this power, but it is beyond anything we have experience with. You will have to walk most of this path alone.”

  “I—I know.”

  “Are you afraid?”

  “Yes.”

  Anneli chewed at her lip again. “Good. Fear makes one cautious. Never let your guard down around this weapon.”

  “Can’t we keep it in the armory? I don’t want it in my room at night. I can feel it.”

  “No. You must become used to that feeling, Penny. You must strengthen yourself against it. Keeping this sword near you all hours of the day and night will help you begin to understand how to control it.”

  Anneli leaned over to put her arm around Penny’s shoulders. “There is one more thing I must tell you. Something that isn’t in that book, because it was compiled by someone who didn’t have access to certain knowledge kept only by the elders.”

  “Yes?”

  “When Lanioc vanished—when he was overwhelmed by the magic—he had that sword in his hands. Some of the elders saw it happen. They say there was a flash of blue light, a glow across his skin like when you wielded the sw
ord, only much brighter. When it dimmed, the sword clattered to the stone floor, and Lanioc was gone.”

  “What was he doing when it happened?”

  “No one knows. The elders entered the throne room and found him standing there, holding the sword aloft. The detail about the sword was kept from the public. Everyone knew the sword was powerful, but this….” She shook her head. “That is a strange coincidence, don’t you think?”

  “What?”

  “He was holding the sword when he vanished, and when his body returned, it returned to the place where the sword had been laid. One man, Lanioc; one creature, the Ember Lion; and one object, the sword. All three connected somehow. All perhaps sharing the same soul. I can give you no answers on this matter, only questions, but that sword before you might know the truth. If it does, you’re the one to whom it will be revealed.”

  Penny felt the goosebumps rise up along her arms. “This magical spark I carry… am I… does it mean I also share the same soul?”

  Anneli shrugged. “I wish I had more to tell you. I truly do. But the day may come when I seek such answers from you. The winter is long, and the time will seem to pass slowly, but you must spend nearly every waking hour training, preparing. I fear you will know only exhaustion, but it cannot be helped. The life of every person in Lanion may depend on your mastery of this weapon. The lives of those in Emberlyn may yet depend on it as well. I know this is a heavy burden for someone as young as you, but I know you are equal to the task.”

  “You know it, or you believe it?”

  Anneli smiled. “I know it. The sword took over back in Eranion, but you were able to regain control. During your first experience with it, you proved yourself stronger than the most powerful magical object in the world. Do not overlook the significance of that, Penny. You will master this weapon.”

  Penny nodded, but she was not comforted by Anneli’s words. If Lanioc himself had succumbed to the sword, what chance did she have? If the man who’d crafted it had lost himself to its power, how could a peasant girl from the Bleaklands hope to do any better?

  As if in reply, the sword surged again, and both she and Anneli fixed their eyes upon it. She would have to be careful what she said—even what she thought—in the sword’s presence. It seemed to know her mind better than she knew it herself. There was danger here, but exposing herself to that danger had to be worth it in the end. Even if the only reward was the safety of the people she loved, that would be enough.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Training

  Penny stood in the center of the empty throne room, the Lion’s Sword sheathed and lying on the floor in front of her. Anneli had arranged that they not be interrupted—the doors were closed and locked, and two palace guards were standing outside them with orders to turn away all who requested an audience with the queen. Anneli stood in front of Penny wearing one of the long, semi-sheer gowns she was fond of. Penny had opted for her traveling outfit of loose-fitting shirt, trousers and sturdy boots.

  “We will begin slowly,” Anneli said. “You’ve already wielded the sword in battle, but frequent use as you train will prove trying, both spiritually and physically. There is an enormous amount of power coursing through that blade.”

  “I understand. I’ll be careful.”

  The queen gestured at the empty throne room. “You cannot train with live partners; since the merest touch of the blade can kill, the risk to them would be too great. I have therefore devised a solution.” She waved her hand and whispered a few words. A sphere similar to the light orb Penny had used in the crypt appeared in Anneli’s hand, only it did not glow. She repeated the spell, and a second appeared in her other hand.

  “With these orbs, I will try to make contact with any part of your body,” Anneli said. “If I do, I score one point. If you strike them with the sword, they will dissipate, and you will score one point.”

  Penny bent over and picked up the sword. It almost seemed to leap into her hand, and she held it by the scabbard for a moment, getting used to the increased energy pouring off of it. “Should I not become more proficient with a regular sword first?” she asked, wanting more than anything to put the Lion’s Sword back down.

  “You are beyond that. If you did not have this weapon, yes, further training with a normal sword would be beneficial to you. But you cannot wield this like a normal sword. To master it, you must train your mind and your will as well as your body. Anything you lack in skill or physical ability will be irrelevant if you can control the sword.”

  Penny let out a breath, nodding. She knew the queen was right. In the ruins of Eranion, during her very first experience with the weapon, she had easily outclassed every Dourosh soldier she’d faced. Even a palace guard, one of Lanion’s elite, may not have been a match for her. Her proficiency would only increase as she learned how to use the sword.

  “All right,” she said. “I’m ready.” She put her hand on the hilt and drew the sword from its scabbard. She set the sheath down behind her and turned back toward the queen, waiting for her. As soon as she began to anticipate an attack, the blade started to glow blue, and it spread across her skin. She was again overtaken by the strange sensation that everything was moving a second or so behind her, and now that she was not in the heat of battle like she had been in Eranion, she could feel the different types of magic flowing through the sword. The magic of understanding was causing the time delay, letting her know her enemies’ movements a second before they made them. Healing magic, she managed to sort out, was giving her increased energy and would, if she took an injury, begin to bind it without her having to cast a separate spell. Defensive magic was creating a shield around her body—not impenetrable, but strong enough to deflect minor blows; and the magic of destruction was what made the blade deadly at the slightest touch. It would not necessarily be fatal to those with strong magical affinities—those who had spent years learning how to resist such things—but rank and file Dourosh would have no defense against it.

  This information filled her mind, making the sword a bit less intimidating. These were spells, not unlike many she could cast. But she did not let down her guard. There was something else in the sword—the thing that seemed like an intelligence—that had yet to show itself. She wondered if it would during a training session like this, or if it took real combat, real danger, for it to manifest.

  “Good,” Anneli said. “You are handling it well. Here is the first orb.”

  Anneli tossed the sphere in her right hand, and it curved around Penny to come at her from the side. Penny spun on her heels and struck out at it, but the orb dropped suddenly, avoiding her blow. It arced back up and came in under her arms, striking against the magical shield just in front of her chest.

  “One point to me,” Anneli said.

  Penny turned back toward the queen. “I thought you would throw them; you didn’t say they could move like that.”

  “Never underestimate the abilities of your enemy.”

  Penny set her jaw and nodded. The queen released the second orb, and this time it rose up toward the top of the chamber before plummeting back down, directly toward Penny’s head. Using her one-second advantage, she waited until the last possible moment before sidestepping. The orb angled up an inch before striking the floor and circled around behind her. She turned swiftly, keeping it in her sight, and swung at it as it came in for the attack. The Lion’s Sword missed it by a fraction of an inch as it darted away again. It paused in midair, just out of reach of her blade.

  “Your body is betraying your movements before you make them,” Anneli said. “You must learn to control that or else your time advantage will be useless. I’ll have you work with my palace guard using a regular sword to help you with it.”

  Penny nodded as the orb began weaving back and forth in front of her. She focused on not letting her muscles react to every movement of the orb. She would have a second to respond when it did dart toward her. Anneli finally made her attack, and Penny swung the sword toward th
e orb, slicing cleanly through it, and it vanished in a shower of sparks.

  “Good,” Anneli said. “That time delay is an interesting spell. I have to admit I’m not sure how Lanioc managed it.”

  Penny looked at Anneli and grinned. “I like it. It will take some time to master, though. I see what’s happening now but also what’s happening a second from now. Reconciling those two images and knowing how to respond is not easy. I only have one second to decide what to do, after all.”

  “During the battle in Eranion, how did you manage it?”

  Penny looked down at the blade. “I didn’t. It took care of that for me. I felt like little more than an observer.”

  “It is possible that you must let go in order to use the sword to its full effectiveness. The key might then be to regain control when you choose to. Once I see you use it some more, I will have a better understanding of it. I will conjure two more orbs, and we will—” The queen frowned.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Faric. He’s trying to contact me remotely. That sort of magic is not easy for him, and he would not do it unless it was urgent.”

  Anneli closed her eyes and placed the tips of her forefingers against her horns. Penny, as quietly as she could, picked up her scabbard and sheathed the sword then sat on the marble floor, watching.

  The queen’s brow was furrowed, and every once in a while her lips would move wordlessly as she spoke to Faric through her thoughts. Four or five minutes passed before the queen reopened her eyes and fixed Penny’s gaze.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Faric was attacked. Our cousin is mortally wounded, and the rest of his scouts are dead.”

  “Is Faric injured?”

  “No, but he will have to survive the winter alone, once Arric… once he succumbs to his wound. But that is not the worst of it. He saw something in the North Wood, near the edge of the Great Forest. A city. Hastily built of timber, but a city nevertheless. Dourok has moved the bulk of his forces from the west to the north.”