“You trying to trick me? Is this some sort of trick?” he asked. “That why you’re backing away from me?”
She started laughing, didn’t know why. There was nothing else, nothing else for him to take. Death was a good thing for her, she was sure of it. She was prepared for it.
“Mocking me?” he shouted, kicking her in the side. He grinned. He had such a fiendish, mad look.
She spoke quietly, mimicking him. Her instincts could be as sharp and cruel as his. It scared her to think that. It scared him too; she could see it in his eyes. The girl he had taken everything from had something left that he couldn’t take.
She realized she wasn’t afraid anymore. He had taken away everything, even her fear. There was nothing left to be afraid of. What could he do to her that hadn’t already been done?
She pulled herself toward him. “Do it,” she whispered.
“Shut up!” he yelled. “I’ll do it when I’m ready.” He lifted his boot. He was an instant away from breaking her right arm like he had broken her right leg. “When I say something I mean it.”
She knew she couldn’t block the blow, couldn’t move away in time. She waited, rage flooding her thoughts and giving her strength she wouldn’t have had otherwise. She had to try something, make a move immediately.
She watched his eyes, concentrating on what she saw there. She was fearless, trying to gauge his weaknesses. He had them. Everyone did.
“Your beloved princess isn’t going to save you this time,” he said with a wicked smile. “I have seen to that. She’s gone. I watched her go.”
Myrial sprang at him like a wounded wolf, attacking rabidly while dragging her leg. “You are one of the whisperers. What have you done?...What have you done?”
Sedrick dodged, cackled madly. “Nothing I shouldn’t have done long ago.”
Night arrived fully before the square calmed. A half-moon rose in a star-filled sky. The two trio teams were allowed the privilege of a much needed reprieve. Water was passed out, returned.
As quiet returned the six faced off. At first, Valam sided against Geoffrey, Brodst against Shalimar, and Seth against Nijal. Each side intentionally splitting up the more protective ring of three.
The three crossed pairs circled slowly. Valam thought it peculiar that Geoffrey had joined in now. But he knew Geoffrey must have also understood that whoever took this trio match would take it all. There was no doubt. Neither had ever seen the crowd this excited, ever. Not even after last year’s upset.
Ansh Brodst circled catlike, counterclockwise. Valam and Seth, clockwise. Then on Valam’s signal, they changed opponents. Valam took Shalimar. Seth, Geoffrey. Brodst, Nijal. The maneuver got the momentary confusion they had been hoping for—they had not used the move until now.
Seth was excellent with his hands, and thus the reason Valam had agreed to the mid-length blades. Geoffrey was slower on the defense. Seth moved in, a kick to the groin as he hacked across. He wondered at the effectiveness of the recently learned trick. Geoffrey faltered.
Ansh Brodst lunged inward at Geoffrey. Seth launched at Nijal. Both targets were caught. They fell, then jumped to their feet.
The men of the Free City had their own well practiced moves. They knew how to feint from a blade even if it meant going down.
The three formed a protective trio. A momentary lull ensued while Seth, Brodst, and Valam circled on the outside.
Valam grimaced and Brodst’s compulsory scowl deepened. They needed to split the trio up—on the outside, they were more vulnerable.
Valam, Lord Geoffrey will take you… warned Seth, just as the other attacked. Valam countered and rotated to separate the trio.
While it seemed an unfair advantage to use his powers, it wasn’t. Seth was not as skilled in defensive plays as the others and they needed anything that could give them a slight advantage. He found it increasingly difficult to keep focused on a single opponent as he tired, let alone three. He found it easier to follow the flow of his reactions and reach out with his will only during moments such as the previous lull.
Valam played at a jab while bringing a fist across to connect with Geoffrey’s chin. The free man countered. His blade ripped into Valam’s arm. New blood to join the reddened dirt of the circle.
Valam sighed and then strangely, smiled. It wasn’t his sword arm.
He wasn’t expecting an immediate follow through or the simultaneous side attack from another. The momentary frenzy of two on one was enough to throw him off. Geoffrey’s next blow hit Valam full in the chest. He went down, couldn’t get up.
Three circled two while Valam was carried out.
Valam? called out Seth in alarm.
“I’ll live, damn it! Worry about the match! Don’t hold back. No more holding back!” screamed Valam in his thoughts.
The crowd erupted violently. It seemed a rather large contingent of Kingdomers had pushed into the square.
As Valam was carried out he could have sworn that he saw a young girl with long black hair staring at him with worried eyes. He turned back quickly, but by that time she was lost in the crowd.
He was being carried to the death house. “I’m not going to die, damn it!” he barked.
“It’s either in here or out there where that mob’ll tear you apart. I’d be quiet if I were you, Prince Valam.”
Valam recognized the voice. He stared in wonder at the two who had carried him from the field. “Father Jacob? Keeper Martin?”
Chapter Fourteen:
Dragon King
The heavy gold medallion slipped from his hands. It seemed as though his life was held frozen while the rest of the world raced to catch up to the point where he was suspended in time.
A great toll sounded, reverberating in his mind. The paralysis lifted. The haze in his mind fell away. He gulped, taken aback as he was left staring into the eyes of another. He bit his hand to make sure he was truly awake. He yelped in pain. Real pain, not imagined. He was awake, alive, beyond the unseen hands that tried to control him.
“Xith?” Vilmos asked, disbelief in his voice.
“Vilmos!” exclaimed Xith happily.
“Xith, is it really you?” Vilmos prodded the shaman with an outstretched hand. “Are you truly flesh and bone?”
Xith paused a moment. He hugged Vilmos. “What is this thing that I have done?” he muttered to himself. “Such a heavy burden for one so small and new to the world.”
“Where am I and what of—”
“Don’t worry about that now. Rest, save your strength.”
“There was darkness. I heard voices and… and…”
“The darkness has nearly run its course. You will be free soon and this business will be behind us for a time. Be thankful.”
“I can’t take any more, make it end. Please, make it end. I’m losing myself.”
“Yes, soon. Soon it will all be over.”
“How long have you been here with me?”
A prolonged pause followed. “Why do you ask?”
“How long?”
“A long time, a very long time. Days.”
“Who is tha-at?” began Vilmos, finishing his own sentence before the other could reply. “You are Ayrian, Eagle Lord of the Gray Clan.”
“Yes, I am,” replied Ayrian, emerging from the shadows. He carried a large bundle of firewood. As he piled the wood next to the low fire, the once proud eagle lord stared into Vilmos’ eyes. He stroked his beak with a clawed hand, then spread his arms in a wide arc which revealed the shadowed bulk of his great wings as though they were the folds of a great gray cloak.
Ayrian spoke then in the pitched calls of his people, “He knew who I was. He didn’t have to even think about it. I didn’t see a stirring of the old memories as we had expected.”
Xith replied in the same language, “Yes, I saw. They took him farther than we had anticipated. What’s done is done. We must undo it that is all. What they have altered we must continue, yet I think in time the remembrance will diminish.”
Vilmos stared at the shaman and the eagle lord, hearing only the strange calls and not the words, but understanding what was said just the same.
“Save your strength, Vilmos. Eat this, then sleep,” Xith said.
“No, please,” begged Vilmos. “I don’t want to sleep. No more sleep. Anything but that!”
Vilmos sat up, his eyes wide. Yet as Xith spooned hot broth into his mouth and it slipped down his throat to settle in his empty stomach the growing warmth began to lull him to sleep. Sagging eyes that sought to look out upon the world didn’t resist long.
Vilmos blinked, blinked again. The great doorway of the tower beckoned. He strained to move the huge door as it ground upon its hinges. He entered the tower without hesitation. A stair twisted and wound its way to the top of the tower. Odd though it was, he saw a single stair but knew that the serpentine tower had two spires.
The same beckoning call that led him to the tower door led him to the stairs. He could not resist the pull of the lure and did not try. As he started up and rounded the twisted staircase, he saw a girl with long black hair. She wore a flowing white robe that seemed out of place. He watched her climb as he climbed. He saw the stairs bend and shift around her, leading her in a constant circle. To her he knew it must seem that she climbed and was making progress toward the door at the top of the stairs. It was the same for him. He seemed to be making progress but neither was getting any closer to the top of the stairs.
He called out to her. She turned. He immediately recognized the green jewels of the eyes, the high noble cheek bones and the gentle curves of her chin. “Princess Adrina?” he shouted.
Adrina stopped climbing. She turned to look at the boy who called her name. Recognition didn’t come immediately, but the short black hair and brown eyes were not completely unfamiliar to her. “Vilmos?” she called back.
“What are you doing in my dream?”
“Dream?” Adrina asked, “This is no dream to me, more like a waking nightmare.”
“Exactly,” Vilmos said. “One from which I can never escape no matter how hard I try, and I have tried, believe me.”
Adrina sat on a step, still looking at Vilmos. “I’ve been climbing for hours. I still haven’t reached the door. It’s the strangest thing. One minute I was in Imtal reading from a scroll. The next, I was here. I have been stuck here ever since.”
“It’s an illusion—it’s all a damned illusion.” Vilmos kicked out at the wall. “The stairs aren’t letting you go anywhere. You have been walking in a great circle.”
“Impossible. I climbed and climbed. How can you be certain?”
“The stairs move around you.” Vilmos prepared to jump to Adrina.
“Stop! If you can see the stairs move, perhaps you can guide me.”
Vilmos agreed to try and though he did try, they did not succeed. The stairs continued to lead Adrina in a great circle. When Vilmos tried to reach Adrina, the stairs took him on a different path. He tried jumping to her. He went up the stairs until he was even with her, then tried to reach out to her. But he couldn’t reach her. He was soon locked in a never ending circle of his own. Frustrated, he sat down and pounded his fist into the stones.
“How did you get here again?” he asked.
She could see him seated on the step, almost as if he was next to her. She knew he wasn’t. It was an illusion, because try as she might she couldn’t reach him either. It was as if they were separated by an unseen shadow world.
He shrugged his shoulders, waved his arms, waiting for a response.
Adrina shouted, “I was reading a scroll.”
“You don’t have to shout. I can hear you clearly enough. What did it say?”
“The scroll?... I never got to read what it said at first, as soon as I laid eyes on it the words started moving. Then there was this ring of words… Something about a castle.” Adrina pulled nervously at her hair. “No, a dragon’s keep.”
Vilmos stood, reached out into the gray world as he spoke. His hands passed right through the image of Adrina as if she wasn’t there, but he knew she was. “Dragon’s keep?” he asked.
She paced back and forth, muttered to herself, “Dragon’s keep, dragon’s keep.” She stopped pacing suddenly as a dark ring of words formed before her eyes. “Dragon’s Keep. Kingdom of the Sky. Through danger deep. Death’s door does lie,” she whispered to herself and then repeated louder for Vilmos’ sake.
“Kingdom of the Sky?” repeated Vilmos, then he whispered in a strange voice, “Find the strength of Uver. In Zadridos, you will find the key to the City of the Sky and there you can right the wrongs of the past.” His eyes flashed. He said aloud, “I am in Zadridos in Under-Earth, and if I am, why is Adrina here?
Adrina glared at him, confused. He spoke in strange voices. “Under-Earth is but a myth.”
He laughed. “A myth? Not to me, not to you. You’re standing…” His eyes went wide. “Dragon’s Keep, this tower has two spires. They are the tails of two great serpents, and where the serpents meet is the door I used.”
“Two spires, two stairs, two people,” Adrina said, looking at the stairs around her and above her and then to Vilmos. She heard her sister’s words. “Do not fear. Remember, two as one.”
“Climb!” she shouted. “Climb with me!”
Vilmos didn’t move. He was puzzled.
“Don’t you see?” Adrina asked. “The tower gives the illusion of one yet there are two—and there are two of us. If we act as one, maybe we can break the illusion, reach the door. Follow my lead.”
Vilmos turned eyes filled with astonishment away from the princess and concentrated on climbing as she called out to him. Before long he was at the top of the stairs and Adrina was just in front of him.
She smiled at him. He ran to hug her, but his hands passed through her instead of touching her. The surprise caused him to falter and loose his balance. He tumbled to the stone floor.
Vilmos stood on uneasy feet, then turned to the door and opened it before Adrina’s scream of “No!” registered.
A great clawed hand came out of the darkness behind the door. It snatched Vilmos up from the ground. Vilmos struggled against what felt like a great clamp squeezing the life from him. He had no weapon and used the only resource he had. He clamped down with his teeth on the fleshy part of the hand. For an instant the claws and the hand relaxed.
It was enough for Vilmos to break free. Adrina shouted, “Close the door, Vilmos! You must!”
Vilmos scrambled to close the door. The great hand sought to grab him again. He pushed and pushed with all his might, working the door against the hand. The hand lashed out, swept him off his feet.
The creature must have assumed it had a moment to snatch him up. But as the claws of the hand opened, Vilmos kicked at the door with all his strength. From behind the door he heard a terrible roar. The creature pulled back the hand.
He slammed the door shut, pushed his weight against it.
“The key, Vilmos,” a voice whispered in his mind. “We need the key to reach Over-Earth. You must get it.”
“Are you okay?” Adrina asked, adding almost to herself, “We must do this, two as one.”
Vilmos watched as Adrina turned to the door in her part of the shadow world. He was hesitant to follow her actions and it showed clearly in his eyes.
“Two as one,” Adrina said, asking, “Are you ready?”
Vilmos nodded. Adrina signaled to open the door. She started to open it. He hesitated, screamed, “Stop! Stop! Stop! What if the creature is still there? What if it attacks us both? What—”
“Trust me,” she said. “I don’t know how I know, but I know. If we open the door together.” She coaxed him back to the door.
He grabbed the door handle, but not because he was optimistic about what was behind the door, rather because he didn’t want Adrina to have to face whatever it was alone. He nodded that he was ready, took a deep breath, braced for what surely must follow.
As one, they opened.
As one, they breathed a sigh of relief. As one, they entered the room at the top of the tower, stepping into total darkness and a complete unknown beyond.
The darkness was fleeting. Hundreds of torches lining the walls from floor to ceiling sprang to life. Vilmos turned to Adrina, Adrina to Vilmos. She nodded; he acknowledged. They prepared to continue.
It was in that moment when it seemed nothing dark and sinister was in the room that they both realized the flames were not those of torches but of creatures—hundreds of tiny creatures that breathed fire. Soon the creatures, no bigger than a man’s finger, were swarming about the room, moving on wispy wings that were almost evanescent.
Complete Kingdoms and the Elves of the Reaches Page 69