The Greater Challenge Beyond (The Southern Continent Series Book 3)

by Jeffrey Quyle

  “For the love of all the gods!” Jenniline said in exasperation, “is that all you’re going to do from now on is play with your stick?”

  “Until I shape it to do what I want, I’ll probably focus on it a great deal,” he answered calmly as he walked and looked at the energy flows that he was sending into the wand.

  “It wouldn’t hurt you to look at people when you talk to them, would it?” she asked.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m nagging you like a wife.

  “I’ve watched these married couples at banquets and balls and dinners all my life growing up. I didn’t expect I’d be that way,” she confessed. “It’s just that I think I really want you to succeed.”

  Grange looked at her appreciatively. He raised his wand, and released its power, sending a stream of flares flying up into the air, between the buildings, then above the buildings, a trail of floating lights in a variety of colors that glowed festively beneath the low clouds.

  “Those are nice,” Jenniline said after craning her neck to look up at them. “What can you do with that stick that is going to be useful when it comes to battle?”

  “I don’t even know,” he admitted. “It can hold a lot of power, but I need to learn more about being a wizard. That’s something that I can learn by listening to Brieed.”

  “Do you think it will help you when you go see the Bloomingians?” she asked.

  “I won’t go see them until I know how to use it,” he told her as they arrived at the palace gates.

  “I’ll move the rest of my things into your rooms tomorrow,” she announced as they walked to the point where they parted ways. “But I’ll spend tonight in my own rooms,” she added.

  “I’m going to talk to Brieed in the morning, if the clouds are cleared off and I can see the moon,” he said, and they parted ways.

  Chapter 17

  When Grange woke in the morning, the clouds were gone and the moon was visible. It had risen above the horizon, and he immediately went to the roof, where he sent a message to Brieed, letting the older wizard know that he was available and ready to receive instruction.

  He sent the message, then cleaned up, and ran to the dining hall, where he grabbed a quick collection of fruits and breads that he planned to take back to the roof, so that he could eat while waited and listened to Brieed.

  “Where are you stealing away to with those?” a fancily-dressed courtier asked as Grange headed toward the door.

  He paused, provoked once again by the reference to the story of his pickpocket origins, as released by Hockis.

  “Energy, cause a strong, small wind to strike that man and push him over here towards me, please,” he called softly.

  The courtier instantly cried out as he was blown out of his chair, and sent sliding across the floor toward Grange, bumping off table legs along the way. He arrived at Grange’s location, and Grange put a foot out to stop the man’s progress.

  “Did you have something you wanted to say to me?” Grange asked him.

  The man looked up, murderous anger in his eyes.

  “You can’t do that to me!” he shouted as he stood up, all eyes upon him.

  “I think I just did,” Grange replied coolly.

  The man looked at Grange and saw that he was unarmed, then pulled his own sword free and held it threateningly.

  “Ariana, come to me,” Grange said calmly.

  “Let’s talk about your bullying, foreign ways, shall we?” the courtier sneered.

  Grange held his hand out, and Ariana flew in through a window and slapped against his palm. His opponent’s jaw dropped.

  “Do you want to talk, or do you want to fence?” Grange asked as he moved his blade into position. “Because it looks like you want to do something else besides talk, and I’m ready to oblige you.”

  “We don’t need that now, not here, not this early in the morning,” a voice called.

  Grange turned to see who had spoken, and as he did, his opponent took advantage of the distraction to stab Grange in the thigh, making him drop the pastries he still held in one hand, and cry out in pain and surprise.

  He dropped to one knee, and called upon the energy to cast a protective dome over him as he caught his breath. He thought back to the time he had used the energy to heal Jadie’s wound when she had been injured during the great Melee at the arena in Kilua.

  “Energy, please heal this wound in my leg now, as you healed my friend in Kilau back then,” he asked, and was astonished at the disappearance of pain, and the simultaneous healing of the puncture mark in his flesh.

  He stood up, and looked at the astonished man who still held his sword.

  “Energy, please lift this man to the ceiling, and hold him there until I ask for his release,” Grange commanded.

  He waved his hand and dissolved the dome around himself, as his attacker went flying up to the ceiling and was plastered against its surface.

  “Who said not to fight in the morning?” Grange asked, interrupting the astonished silence that pervaded the hall.

  “I did,” Jenniline’s brother did. It was Halsten, the older of the two, the one who was the seemingly displaced heir because of Acton’s declaration of Grange’s eventual assumption of the throne.

  “We shan’t fight any more then,” Grange answered. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to return to an appointment.” He picked up his dropped food, and started to walk away.

  “What about him?” a woman’s voice tremulously asked. “When can Brady come down?”

  “He can come down any time he wants,” Grange gave a sly grin, then walked out of the hall.

  He ran back to the tower, then up the stairs and to the roof, where he settled into place to await the expected instructions from Brieed, He hoped to hear the voice of his mentor begin to arrive at any minute, telling him how to make his wand become the tool that he hoped it could become.

  “Grange, I hope you’re ready this morning. I’m going to give you the information you need to carry out the ceremony to consecrate your wand to your personal use,” Brieed’s voice spoke, as Grange listened eagerly.

  “You probably know that you have to perform the ceremony under a full moon in a clear sky,” Brieed began, “and of course, you will need to have your wand completely charged with as much as the power as you can compress into it.

  “On the night of a full moon, you will need a small quantity of blood,” Brieed said next.

  “Let me guess, virgin’s blood,” Grange muttered.

  “Not just any blood,” Brieed told him. “It has to be the blood of a virgin female.”

  “I knew that,” Grange remembered the time Grace had slapped him, because he had not assumed her to be a virgin.

  “The ceremony must take place inside a circle of fire, and both you and the virgin must be dressed in red,” Brieed continued. “You must have a chalice of wine that you both drink from, after which you must together hold a single sprig of evergreen in your teeth together.”

  “Do you mean that Grace did all of this?” Grange muttered skeptically.

  “I hope you’re getting all of this; I’m going slowly,” Brieed spoke.

  “With all of those things taken care of, the two of you must be drenched in water. Then when that is done, you release all the energy from your wand in one powerful purge. After that, the wand will answer only to you – you’ll be done,” Brieed told him. “And you and your wand will have the special relationship we all find so satisfying.”

  “So the summary is full moon, virgin female, in a circle of fire, her blood and yours touching the wand; you drink wine, hold the evergreen, get doused, then release your wand’s energy. It won’t take all night. Afterwards, you’ll be exhausted, and want to sleep,” Brieed offered.

  “I wish you were here with your wand; Palmland is now at war,” the wizard startled him by saying. “Our eastern lands have been invaded by the king of Skote, and Verdant is coming through the mountains, through that tunnel you warned us about, in the sout
h,” he said in a serious tone.

  “We could use your powers to help our forces,” he said.

  “And Grange, we should also try to teach you about the use of second level energies. Those are greater uses of the power to do things that cause other results to take place. We’ll start lessons on those actions some morning soon, if you’re willing to learn. These are advanced matters, but I think you will need them,” Brieed advised.

  “Now have a good day in your land of extraordinary adventure,” the wizard advised. “Send me a message to let me know you are ready to begin tomorrow.”

  The message was over, and it had ended on an unexpected note. Grange looked at the crescent moon, rising higher in the morning sky, growing dimmer as the surrounding sky brightened.

  “Master,” Grange directed his words and his energy towards the moon, imagining and directing the communications to go back to the room in the palace at Palmland where Brieed kept his office.

  “Master Brieed, I hope you are safe, and I hope all our friends are safe. When my duties here are finished, I will return to Palmland to help, if help is still needed.

  “Please tell me more when our next lesson occurs. I will pray to the gods for your safety,” Grange advised.

  The sound of movement rose from the staircase behind him. He stood up, then went down a level to where he slept, and went down one more level to where Jenniline’s quarters were to be. He found his counsel there, overseeing workmen who were carrying crates of her belongings.

  “You need to go to the meal hall and release Brady from the magic that has him trapped against the ceiling,” Jenniline told him mildly, as she oversaw the workmen’s placement of her goods.

  “You don’t seem upset by what I did,” Grange commented.

  “I – and everyone in the court – know that Brady is a cheat and a scoundrel; believe me, I know, better than I wish I knew.

  “I’ve heard a version of this morning’s story that makes me certain you were kinder to him than he deserves. But the servants are tired of listening to his screams by now, I’m sure. I would have told you sooner, but you were up on the roof listening to the voice in the air, and I didn’t want to interrupt,” Jenniline said.

  “What are your plans for today?” she asked.

  Grange looked at her speculatively. He wanted to start preparing all that he would need for the ceremony to consecrate his wand, even though the full moon was days away. He wasn’t sure there was an easy way to ask if Jenniline was a virgin, suitable for the ceremony. It was something he didn’t need to know immediately, he decided, and it was a question too delicate to pose without forethought.

  “I want to start collecting some things I’ll need for my wand, and I want to go to some temples to pray – my home in Palmland is being attacked,” he said.

  “Attacked? By who?” Jenniline asked with big eyes.

  “Skote and Verdant,” Grange answered.

  “We’ll go to the temples, then we can come back here and work in the armory, and perhaps start having conversations with the princesses as potential mates,” Jenniline decided.

  “Are,” despite his earlier resolution, Grange decided the conversation offered the opening to ask what he needed to ask. “Are any of them virgins?” he asked cautiously.

  “Grange!” Jenniline spoke loudly in a surprised tone, as the servants carrying the crates snickered outloud, then quickly left the quarters.

  “You can’t ask that question,” she said authoritatively. “You’ll be completely chased out of the palace – regardless of Acton’s command – if you even suggest that any princess is not a virgin. You must assume that they all are. They’re royal princesses!”

  He had managed to do what he had wanted not to. And that being the case, he decided he might as well explain the question.

  “To treat my wand, there is a ceremony I have to perform, and I need to have a virgin woman,” Grange explained.

  “For what – as a sacrifice?” Jenniline looked at him with an expression of disgust.

  “No – Great Shaine, no!” he replied. “But I do need a little bit of their blood.”

  “Just blood? A few drops?” Jenniline asked. “And there will be no other consequences, no harm, no enchantment?”

  “Not as far as I know,” Grange answered, remembering the results of his wand christening with Grace, when Shaylee had interrupted them. “Everyone will be fine eventually.”

  Jenniline looked at him pensively. “I suppose I’ll have to trust you on that; you’ve seemed dependable so far,” she spoke.

  “We need to get down to the meal hall and take care of Brady,” she reached out and tugged on his arm.

  They descended the stairs and returned to the mostly empty meal hall, where a few servants were cleaning, a handful of observers were looking up at the man on the ceiling, and Brady was crying piteously.

  Grange stood in the shadows of the doorway. “Energy, please let him down to the floor gently,” he directed.

  Brady gave a shout, as he began to descend. When his feet touched the floor he grabbed tightly onto the edge of a table.

  “Where is that monster! I’ll show that Bloomingian what it’s like to fight fair!” the man screamed.

  “I’m right here,” Grange answered, stepping out of the shadows and into the room, where Brady saw him for the first time.

  The man saw Grange and blanched. “You’re lucky Halsten said there’s to be no fighting inside the hall,” he blustered, as he backed away from Grange. “I’ll show you how a man fights fair in the armory sometime,” he made one last preposterous threat, then turned and left the hall in the opposite direction at a rapid pace.

  “I feel better, I guess,” Grange told Jenniline, as the other residents of the palace filtered away, the spectacle over.

  They left the hall. “You go visit your temples and say your prayer. I’m going to start arranging interviews for you with the princesses. You may not ask them if they’re virgins!” she said strongly. “I’ll take care of that issue.

  “You come back after lunch and we’ll either go to the armory or have a chat with a princess,” she told him. “Or both,” she added.

  On a whim, Grange went back to his tower suite, where he grabbed his flute. He wanted to go back to the tavern where they had been the night before. He knew the musicians wouldn’t be there in the morning, but he thought he might find out where they were, and be able to play music with them, or at least demonstrate his skills.

  He left the palace grounds and went to the first temple he found in the city, a temple to Shaine, the goddess of punishment. It had been near her temple in Fortune that he had first tried to return the purse he had stolen from the old lady, the purse that had contained the locket with the picture of Jenniline. In retrospect, it had turned out to be the first clue of the adventure he was now perilously following, though he hadn’t known at the time what was awaiting him.

  Inside, the temple was garishly lit with red lanterns that cast a lurid light upon the priests and the worshippers who mingled and walked about.

  Grange seldom actually prayed to Shaine – he had no desire to wish ill upon others in the normal course of life, but the knowledge that invaders were threatening his friends on Palmland had motivated him to seek pain and suffering for those invaders, and discouragement for them to follow their course.

  He strolled to the front of the sanctuary, and knelt on the cool, hard stone floor, then bowed his head and began to softly speak his prayer.

  “Shaine, I ask for your help, to punish and prevent the attacks of Skote and Verdant against Palmland. Please use your powers against those who lead the attacks, and make them turn around,” he prayed fervently.

  There was an unexpected crackling noise overhead. Grange looked up, Sand began to fall onto his face, and he stood up, then stepped back from beneath the shower of fragments. Thumb-sized pieces of mortar began falling, and a light cloud of dust puffed around the joints of the stone blocks above the altar of the temp
le. The sanctuary was disrupted by another, louder, shot of noise, and an entire block of stone fell out of the ceiling, falling to land directly upon the space where Grange had knelt as he prayed.

  The sanctuary erupted in screams, while Grange also backpedaled away from the spot. Thick, heavy, viscous fog flowed down from the opening in the ceiling, dropping in a swirling column until it struck the top of the fallen ceiling stone. The column grew thicker, then brighter, then suddenly disappeared instantaneously and completely.

  In its place stood a tall, slender woman, her skin as pale as any member of the Southgar race, though she was dressed completely in black leather, with a black veil barely obscuring the features of her cruelly beautiful face. Her eyes glowed red.

  “Grange, Champion,” she said in a smooth voice as she stepped down off the stone block, and began to walk towards him. “You ask me to punish Skote and Verdant, do you?”

  “As the champion of humanity and the gods, shouldn’t you be worried about protecting humans instead of harming a few of the silly ones?” she asked.

  “Did you even think to ask yourself why they are attacking?” she came to a stop just one step in front of Grange, towering over him as he stared up in slack-jawed astonishment.

  Her hand shot out and slapped his face with such force that he was knocked from his feet, and was flung backwards, landing on his back on the stone floor, the air knocked out of his lungs.

  She stepped forward, in front of those astonished worshippers who remained to witness the supernatural event, and she placed one booted foot on Grange’s heaving chest.

  “I am the one who sent Skote and Fortune into battle against your friends in Palmland,” she told him. “Your friends do not pay proper attention to my temple – I do not have enough worshippers in that land to satisfy me, and so they are the ones being punished.”

  “Don’t you presume to meddle in the affairs of the gods,” she let her foot rest heavily upon him for a moment, then lifted the boot off him and left him gasping for air.

  “You will see to your role in humanity’s fate, and you will not seek to meddle in the things we gods do,” Shaine told him imperiously.