The Sword and the Sorcerer

by John Phythyon

  She glanced over her shoulder once at Elmanax. He was gone. Good. That meant he thought he had successfully manipulated her. Let him think it. When the time came, she would be ready for his betrayal. And then he was going to wish he’d found some other way to avenge himself on Gothemus Draco.

  Chapter 28: Different Portals

  For a moment, Calibot panicked. He couldn’t see anything, and he couldn’t feel Wyrmblade’s magic. What was happening?

  He forced himself to relax. His father planned everything down to the last detail. He wouldn’t have let Calibot into the tower with orders to get the Eye of the Dragon and then take away his ability to get it.

  “Anybody got a light?” Zod said, his voice tinged with sarcasm.

  “Calibot, can you try the sword,” Devon asked.

  “Sure,” he replied.

  No sooner had he said that than it ignited. For a moment, he was blinded by the sudden light.

  “That’s funny,” he said.

  “What?” Devon said.

  “I didn’t think that would work,” he replied. “Why would it have gone out in the first place when the door shut? I thought this might be some sort of magic-free zone.”

  “In your father’s tower?” Zod said with a laugh.

  “It would make certain another wizard would be unable to work magic when entering,” Devon said.

  “Gothemus wasn’t afraid of other wizards,” Zod said.

  “When he was alive,” Devon countered. “He knew enough to seal the tower so that it could only be entered by Calibot, whom he warned about Elmanax.”

  “He warned you about Elmanax?” Zod said.

  Nice going, Devon, Calibot thought. Now he’s got more information.

  “Yes,” Calibot said.

  “Perhaps it’s two different kinds of magic,” Alistair said. “When you lit the sword to open the door, that performed one kind of spell, while just causing it to work as a torch is another. So when the first purpose was fulfilled, the sword’s magic dissipated.”

  “That seems logical,” Zod said after a pause. “So now what?”

  Calibot took a moment to survey their surroundings. They were in a round room. It was large enough to accommodate them, but that was about it. Across from them, several paces away, was a door. So far, everything was as he remembered it. This was the waiting room. When his father had visitors, he made them stand here until he was ready to receive them.

  “Excuse me,” Liliana said.

  She pushed passed Calibot and headed for the door. He was about to protest, when he noticed that, despite her walking steadily, she didn’t seem to be making any progress. It was as though the room was elongating, moving the door farther away from her. He gaped at her for a few seconds. Then she reached it, opened it, and walked through.

  “Hey!” Zod shouted. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  Liliana didn’t answer. She just shut the door behind her. Zod took a step forward, but Devon put a hand on his shoulder.

  “I think it would be best to let her go, Lord Zod,” he said. “We’re here on a different errand than she is.”

  “And suppose she plans to sabotage that errand?” Zod growled.

  Devon took his hand off Zod’s shoulder and smiled into his fierce glare.

  “I don’t believe she will,” he said. “Liliana has been following your brother’s instructions from the moment she received the first one. Whatever she’s doing – whatever he’s told her is here for her – it has to follow his designs.”

  “You’re assuming those designs are in our best interest,” Alistair said.

  Everyone turned and stared at him in surprise. Even Zod looked taken aback.

  “Just because he was your brother, my lord, does not mean he is working with our good in mind,” Alistair said, looking unafraid. “His behavior has been, shall we say, strange since leaving for Eldenberg. Since his death, things have been even more unusual.”

  Zod continued staring at him for a moment. Alistair didn’t seem worried that he’d given offense.

  “You’re right about that,” Zod said at last. “But, for now, we keep playing Gothemus’s game. It’s the only thing we’ve got to go on.”

  Alistair shrugged. He gave the appearance of a man who was totally indifferent to his fate. Calibot wondered if he was actually worried and not showing it or if his faith in his master’s judgment was so complete he was happy to abide by whatever Zod decided.

  “Calibot,” Devon said, “do you know where the Eye of the Dragon is?”

  “No,” Calibot replied, shaking his head. “He said it was in the topmost room, but I’ve never been there. I presume we have to enter the tower like usual, but ‘topmost room’ could mean anything. There are any number of hidden passages I might not know about. He never told me where he kept the Eye of the Dragon, nor did he ever let me see it.”

  “Me either,” Zod said. “Once he made this place, he locked the Eye away somewhere special. He never showed me where, and I never worried about it. There was no reason to.”

  Devon nodded and pursed his lips. He stroked his blonde hair for a moment and thought.

  “I guess it comes back to the sword then,” he said. “He told you Wyrmblade was the key to the tower. That must include finding the Eye of the Dragon. The sword guided you to his body in Eldenberg; maybe it will do the same for the Eye.”

  Calibot sighed. He supposed it made sense. Offhandedly, he wondered just how many extra enchantments his father had cast on the legendary sword and how he had made sure they would work.

  He closed his eyes and thought about the Eye of the Dragon. He’d never seen it, had no idea what it looked it like. But he was familiar enough with its legend. He knew what he was looking for, even if he had no idea exactly what it was.

  It only took a moment’s concentration before he could feel it through the door. The sensation was similar to the one he’d felt in Eldenberg. Devon was right again.

  “This way,” he said.

  He took a step towards the door. As soon as he did so, it moved. He should have been able to reach it in three steps or less. Instead, it was over a hundred yards away. For a second, he panicked again. This had never happened to him before. He’d always just gone through the door. It occurred to him this must be the same spell that affected Liliana; he’d just seen it from the other perspective. Attempting to get to the door moved it farther away. So much for the theory this room was a magic-free zone.

  There was nothing to do but walk for the door. He’d committed to this when he came in here. If he didn’t want to finish his father’s game, he should have gone back to Dalasport.

  He crossed the elongated room with his heart pounding. Part of it was fear – fear of what was on the other side of that door and fear of what he was becoming. The Calibot who had never heard of Liliana Gray, let alone his father’s death, would never have done something like this.

  At last, he reached the door. He waited a second to make sure his companions were with him. He looked into Devon’s eyes and read support and love there. Thank the gods for that. Then he pulled on the latch, and the door opened easily.

  What he saw astounded him. A giant room – far too big to fit inside his father’s tower – lay out before him. It was lit as though it were outdoors at noon. Bright sunlight bounced off its walls and its glass floor, which was opaque and covered in some sort of fluid.

  Calibot had no idea what to make of it. He’d never seen this room before. It certainly hadn’t been accessible from the waiting room when he was growing up. How could it be lit this way? How could it fit inside the tower?

  As soon as he saw it, though, he knew it was the right way to go. Some emotion he couldn’t identify surged through his heart and called to him. Thunderstruck, he stepped through the door without a word.

  Devon followed immediately. Zod and Alistair hesitated.

  “Is that oil on the floor?” Zod said.

  “I believe so,” Devon answered. “It certainl
y smells like it. Calibot, I think you’d better sheathe your sword.”

  Calibot put Wyrmblade in its scabbard absently. Then he wandered into the heart of the strange chamber. There was nothing in it.

  “Where’s Liliana,” Devon asked.

  “Why?” Zod said.

  “There are no doors,” Devon replied. “There are no other features at all besides the walls, the ceiling, the floor, and the oil. If she came through the same door we did, she should be here.”

  “Unless there’s some secret way out, only she knows,” Zod said.

  “Or she didn’t go through the same door,” Alistair said.

  “What do you mean?” Devon said.

  “Gothemus Draco was a powerful magician,” Alistair answered. “His understanding of magic and the universe far surpassed that of any other human being. His ability to not only anticipate his own murder but plan and craft an elaborate contingency against it is testament to his prowess. It seems logical, under the circumstances, that, when Liliana crossed the room and went through the door, it was a different door – or more properly, a different portal – than the one we’ve just passed through.

  “Liliana said Gothemus left something for her in the tower. It seems feasible the tower recognized her, and so took her to the place Gothemus intended her to go. Likewise, it recognized Calibot or Wyrmblade, and took him where Gothemus wanted him. Because we went with Calibot, we ended up in his destination instead of hers or somewhere else altogether.”

  “Extraordinary,” Devon said.

  Calibot agreed. He had no interest in magic and even less in his father’s command of it. But it was impressive nonetheless. He couldn’t help but admire his father a little.

  “So,” Zod said, approaching them. “Where’s the Eye?”

  Calibot closed his eyes and concentrated for a moment. He was instantly alarmed. He didn’t like the answer he got.

  “It’s up there,” Calibot said, pointing at the ceiling.

  Everyone looked up. There was nothing to see but stone ten feet above them.

  “Care to be a little more specific?” Zod said.

  “That’s all I know,” Calibot said. “We have to get up there somehow.”

  “Damn Gothemus and his hellish riddles,” Zod said with a sigh.

  “All right,” Devon said. “There’s no obvious way up, but we know that’s how we have to go. Spread out and see if there’s some passage we’re not seeing – maybe a secret door.”

  Calibot grew more irritated. He was weary of puzzles, and he agreed wholeheartedly with his uncle’s comments. He didn’t want to look for secret doors or illusions or magic. He just wanted to get the damned artifact, figure out his father’s endgame, and be done with this.

  He turned and walked to the nearest wall. It was completely smooth and absolutely featureless. Nothing suggested it could conceal a door. He put a hand to it. It was warm – unnaturally so. It should have been cold, but it felt to Calibot as though a fire were burning behind it. It reminded him of a hearth.

  Briefly, he thought he might be onto something. He felt along the wall to see if it was cooler or warmer to the left or right. But there was no change. It was a consistent temperature no matter where he put his hands. Whatever magic this was, it was not a clue. His shoulders sagged with defeat.

  They spent nearly ten minutes searching the room. Alistair periodically tapped at the wall with his staff, and he would spend long moments staring at what looked to be nothing before giving up and moving on. Zod, Calibot noticed, was only half-heartedly searching. He gave the walls a cursory glance as he moved along them, but he wasn’t really scrutinizing them.

  When it seemed they had covered most of the walls, Devon starting examining the floor. He walked along it, kicking at the oil. Calibot had no idea what Devon was hoping to achieve by this, but he didn’t ask and he didn’t stop him.

  “Do you suppose the oil has something to do with it,” Zod asked after watching Devon for a minute.

  “Most assuredly,” Devon answered. “I just couldn’t tell you what.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t light it,” Alistair said. “There’s enough of it in here, we’d all be incinerated in short order.”

  Calibot didn’t like that at all. He’d put up with too much of his father’s bullshit to be burned to death now.

  “Hey, here’s something,” Devon said.

  “What?” Zod said.

  “There are sigils on the floor here,” he replied. “I can’t read them.”

  “Let me see,” Zod said, walking over.

  After arriving, he stared at the floor where Devon was standing. Calibot watched as his uncle walked around a spot roughly in the center of the room with a curious look on his face.

  “Have you ever seen these symbols before,” Devon asked.

  “Not that I can recall,” Zod said.

  “Calibot, come have a look at this,” Devon said.

  Calibot felt his heart quicken as he joined Devon. He didn’t know what they were looking at, but, as he had so often in the last week, he knew they were onto something. Alistair started making his way over from across the room.

  Calibot took one look at the symbols on the floor and understood them immediately.

  “They’re words,” he said.

  “What?” Zod said. “That’s no language I’ve ever seen.”

  “What do they read,” Devon asked.

  “Ignea scalam,” Calibot said.

  “No, don’t!” Alistair shouted, but it was too late. Sparks flew out of the symbols on the floor. The oil caught fire. It took only seconds for the entire room to be ablaze.

  Chapter 29: The Eye of the Dragon

  Calibot watched in horror as the fire swept across the room and engulfed Alistair, who was a mere ten feet from them. He screamed horribly, dropped his staff, and then fell. His staff was ablaze before it hit the ground.

  “Alistair!” Zod cried.

  The wizard wailed in agony for only a few seconds before falling silent. Then his staff, consumed by the flames, exploded in bright green fury. Calibot had to shield his eyes.

  And, strangely, he, Devon, and Zod were not harmed. Standing in a circle near the magic words, they were somehow shielded. The fire moved away from them and didn’t touch them.

  Calibot thought he might be sick. His poetry had truly come to life before his eyes. Only this wasn’t funny. There was no humor in it all. It was frightening and tragic.

  And it was his fault. He’d spoken the power words. He was the knave who, like Drake and Drudger, had foolishly set off magic he didn’t understand. In his ignorance of the consequences, Calibot had set off a bomb that killed his uncle’s advisor in horrific manner. Drake and Drudger looked like renowned scholars by comparison.

  He had little time to contemplate all that, though. The magic wasn’t done. The flames swept around the room, arcing and undulating as though they were dancing with one another. Then they came together in the middle of the chamber only a few feet from where Calibot was standing. They formed a pillar that shot from the floor to the ceiling. Then, as though some giant had tipped it, it fell over until it was at a forty-five-degree angle, still reaching the top of the room. Once there, it formed itself into the shape of an enormous staircase leading up and ending in a black hole in the ceiling. Despite the flames, no light penetrated the darkness. It was impossible to see where it might lead.

  “By the gods,” Devon whispered.

  No, Calibot thought. By my father.

  He shook his head as he stared at the still-flaming steps. It didn’t look as though they could be ascended without getting burned, but Calibot was certain that was exactly how the magic worked. Leave it to his father to use sorcery where something much simpler would have sufficed.

  Zod ran to the smoking remains of Alistair’s body. There wasn’t much left – mostly a blackened skeleton. It was grisly.

  His uncle knelt by the body of his fallen advisor and grieved. He didn’t weep, and he didn’t tou
ch it. But he grimaced with a mixture of sadness and fury. Calibot had never seen him like this.

  “Damn you, Gothemus,” he said quietly. “You deserve to be in eternal torment for this.”

  He got up and came back to them wearing a determined expression. He faced Calibot bitterly and squared his shoulders.

  “Let’s go,” he said.

  “Where?” Devon said.

  “Up,” Zod answered. “The damned thing is up there.”

  “Shouldn’t we make sure it’s safe?” Devon said.

  “It’s safe,” Zod growled. “As safe as anything in this hell house of his is safe. This is what he intended. Walk up his pretty staircase made of fire. Like I said, it was his favorite kind of magic.”

  Calibot sighed. He supposed his uncle was right. They didn’t have any choice. They’d come this far, and the Eye of the Dragon was most assuredly up the stairs. There was nothing to do but go get it. If he hadn’t wanted it, he shouldn’t have brought them in here.

  He swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and put one foot tentatively on the first step. As he and Zod suspected, the flames did him no harm. He shook his head and thought again regretfully of Alistair. If only he’d been closer to them when Calibot triggered the magic. If only Calibot had waited.

  He climbed the stairs in silence. As he neared the top, he felt his heart rate quicken. He still could see nothing through the black hole. The ambient light from the staircase flames simply stopped at the top. It was as though they were staring at pure darkness. He halted just short of it.

  “Now what?” he said, turning back to his companions.

  “Go through,” Zod said.

  “Through what?” Calibot replied.

  “It’s a portal,” Zod said.

  “How do you know,” Devon asked.

  “Because that’s how it works,” Zod said. “Don’t ask me to explain; I don’t know. I just know Gothemus, and that’s how he works.”