Underdog Mage Chronicles_The Captive_Book Two

by R. D. Bernstein

  Porthos winced and braced himself as Drek brought his frost blade up against his neck. The iciness surrounding the blade was so cold that it burnt his skin at the touch.

  “You would be dead right now if I didn’t need your answers,” Drek hissed. “Tell me, human. Where are your people storing the crystals they took from the first portal opening?”

  “You might as well kill me,” Porthos replied. “I will not betray my people.”

  Drek grinned. “There are many ways to cause tremendous amounts of pain without killing you,” Drek warned. He re-positioned his ice blade to rest just above Porthos’ right shoulder. “Take your arm for instance. I am sure you find it quite useful, but you don’t need it to live. I can prove it to you if you wish. My blade can freeze and cauterize the wound.”

  “You are demons,” Master Porthos said.

  “We’ve been called much worse by many different worlds,” Drek said with a smirk. Then he shrugged. “The outcomes are always the same. Call us what you want, the Drakaran always get their way.”

  Chapter 14

  Lance woke with his heart racing a million miles an hour. He jumped up, staggered on his bad leg, and looked around. There was no sign of Master Porthos or the Drakaran. It was as if they vanished into thin air. No tracks, no blood… nothing.

  Lance was surprised to find the Drakaran book still tucked safely within the wagon. Either the Drakaran didn’t see the book, or he didn’t care. Lance made sure to check on each of the knights, but they were long gone. Lance noticed that Drek’s blades had cut clean through the armor and deep into flesh.

  With no obvious path to follow after Master Porthos, the only real choice Lance had was to continue on toward Shatter Island. Hopefully they would be able to send word for help and also translate the Drakaran book.

  Lance couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt at letting Master Porthos get captured or even killed. If he wasn’t dead yet, he would be soon. Lance wondered how, against all odds, he was still alive. It was possible it was an oversight, but it seemed more likely that the Drakaran were specifically after Master Porthos. There must be something the Drakaran needed from the new head Master, something only Porthos would know.

  Lance grabbed the book and unhooked the horse from the wagon. He needed to move fast if he hoped to save Master Porthos.

  * * *

  Half a day hard gallop found Lance standing at the edge of the bridge to Shatter Island. Giant waves crashed against the cliff’s edge. The salty smell of water stung his nostrils in a refreshingly good way. The bridge itself spanned a mile long between the mainland and Shatter Island. Lance had never seen or heard about a bridge so long. Unfortunately, it was made of wood and Lance found it difficult to trust in its reliability. The crashing waves slamming into jagged rocks below didn’t help.

  “Well, here goes nothing,” Lance said out loud, trying to give himself encouragement.

  Truth be told, Lance was tempted to turn around and head back to Delvin. He had faced unimaginable monsters, was held captive on another planet, and fought terribly powerful Drakaran, but his fear of heights remained. Funny how that worked. No, not funny. He gulped. It was terrifying. Either side of the narrow bridge gave a clear view of the hundred foot drop to the jagged rocks below, waiting like monsters reaching and clawing upward to grab a hold of a clumsy traveler.

  The bridge creaked loudly with each step the horse took. Lance considered leaving the horse and traversing the bridge on foot with less weight, but sending the horse back now would make it unlikely to find it again. Besides, Lance would undoubtedly need the horse again.

  Up ahead, Lance could make out the large monastery at the center of Shatter Island. Its four towers in each corner rose nearly as high as Delvin’s palace. The most noticeable difference was that the monastery flew no flags. Its walls were left bare, a symbol of its neutral standing among surrounding kingdoms. Lance knew little about the secretive and isolated monks, but he did recall that this was a place of both worship and study, supposedly home to some of the wisest men on this side of the world.

  Although he was tense the entire time, Lance made it across without difficulty. Up ahead, a monk walked forward to meet him. As soon as the man recognized Lance’s green robes as that of a mage, the monk bowed his balding head and said, “Welcome to Shatter Island.”

  * * *

  Master Porthos screamed as the icy blade dug into his flesh, a trickle of blood streaming down his arm. The ice felt like his arm was on fire, even though the blade only pierced a tiny fraction of his arm. Drek held it there, neither pushing it further in, nor drawing it out.

  “Last chance to tell me,” Drek whispered. Drek whispered in Master Porthos’ ear. “I do not like repeating myself.”

  “Go to hell!” Master Porthos screamed in defiance.

  Drek sighed. “Wrong answer.”

  The sword dug deeper and Porthos let out a blood curdling scream. The pain was unbearable.

  “Ah! Wait! Stop! Okay, I’ll tell you!”

  Drek held the blade still.

  “Well?”

  It’s on Shatter Island, that way,” Master Porthos said in a defeated voice. “Now kill me and get it over with.”

  Drek smiled and patted the side of Master Porthos’ head. “I’ve decided to leave you alive to wallow in the sorrow of knowing you betrayed your kind. Remember this moment when humanity falls.”

  Chapter 15

  “This way, please,” the monk instructed, leading Lance under an open gate and through a set of wide, iron doors. Two monks on either side of the doors watched with curious eyes. Lance looked back to see one of the monks tying his horse to a wooden pole dug into the earth at the side of the doors.

  “We haven’t had a visitor in quite some time,” the monk said. “What brings you to our monastery?”

  Lance held up the book from the Great Library. “I was hoping someone here could translate this. We were also attacked on the road. You need to send word to Delvin that Master Porthos is missing and will need help.”

  The monk nodded. “I am Ellestar. I will ensure a rider is sent right away. As for the book, what language is it written in?”

  Ellestar led Lance down a long hallway, well-cleaned but devoid of any decorations common to the palace Lance was used to.

  “The book is written by the original founders of Delvin,” Lance explained. “It has parts written in what we think is a language called the Drakaran. It is vital to the safety of Delvin and the entire world that we figure out what it means.”

  Ellestar’s eyes widened in surprise.

  “Drakaran?” Ellestar asked. “Our history books tell of a people with that name that came here hundreds of years ago from a place far away. It is a language long ago forgotten. I’m afraid there are none among us who can speak or read it.”

  “There has to be a way,” Lance pleaded.

  Ellestar shook his head. “I’m sorry. I truly am, but the symbols of the Drakaran have not been seen or heard in centuries.”

  They came to a large wooden door which Ellestar swung open to reveal a spacious library. The size was equivalent to Delvin’s own Great Library. Rows of bookshelves lined the room.

  “The only person who might provide you some guidance as to where to search for answers would be Dellius. You will find him wandering about the library.”

  Ellestar shook Lance’s hand and said, “Good luck to you.”

  Lance nodded as Ellestar departed, making his way back down the hallway.

  Lance’s thoughts turned to Master Porthos. Hopefully the messenger would reach Delvin quickly and adequate help would be sent to find Porthos.

  He made his way between the shelves until he found an elderly man dressed in the typical brown robes of the monks.

  “Dellius?” Lance asked.

  The man turned around and smiled.

  “Ah, Lance Gundar. I have been waiting a long, long time for you.”

  * * *

  Lance was taken aback by the reco
gnition in the old man’s eyes.

  “How do you know me?” Lance asked.

  Dellius smiled. “I don’t. But I knew your father well and you have his look.”

  “I...I don’t understand.”

  “Your father was wise and powerful,” Dellius continued. “He knew you would wind up here one day, insisting it would be the fulfillment of the prophecy.”

  “The prophecy?” Lance asked. “My father left my mother and I when I was only ten. Then, several months ago I heard his voice in my mind.”

  “Be that as it may, he is now gone from this world,” Dellius said. “But he was a firm believer in the prophecy. He told me that one day there would come enemies from another world and that his son would come to Shatter Island to stop them. Several weeks ago Delvin brought us strange crystals and asked us to keep them safe. I knew then that you would be coming soon. Your father instructed me to show you the crystals. He said that although they are tools of our enemies, they are ironically also the key to their defeat.”

  Lance didn’t know what to say. It felt like he was slowly putting the puzzle pieces of his past together. The worst part about it was the more pieces he put together, the larger the puzzle grew.

  “Did my father say anything else?”

  Dellius shrugged. “That’s pretty much it. Would you like to take a look at the crystals?”

  Lance nodded.

  Dellius led him through the library, out into the main hallway, and down to the end. There, he unhooked a set of keys from his waist and unlocked a heavy metal door.

  Inside, resting on the floor, were eight large Drakaran crystals, their smooth surface reflecting the light of the torches along the walls of the room.

  A voice suddenly yelled from down the hallway, “We’re under at…” It was cut short by a scream. Then there was only silence.

  * * *

  Lance looked down the hallway to see Drek marching toward them with both blades drawn. Mallagan shuffled behind him.

  “And so the prophecy continues,” Dellius said.

  “But I can’t take both of them, “Lance replied. “I doubt I can even take one. The last battle did not end well.” He rubbed at his head where Drek had knocked him out last time they met.

  The Drakaran were halfway down the long hallway, marching slowly but with their usual confidence toward Lance and Dellius.

  “Use the crystals,” Dellius advised.

  Lance couldn’t believe he didn’t think of it before. It was their only chance.

  He ran over to the closest crystal, picked it up and slammed it as hard as he could on the floor. It shattered into huge and small pieces across the room.

  “No!” Drek shouted as he ran forward, his pace incredibly fast. It was like watching death come straight toward him. Lance had to forcibly tear his eyes away from the incoming threat so that he could focus on the task at hand.

  He grabbed the smallest shard he could find and forced it down his throat.

  Drek leapt, his flaming sword outstretched, his killer gaze fixated on Lance. Time slowed to a crawl. Lance watched as Drek came toward him in slow motion.

  Lance’s reflexes were so fast, his senses heightened, and his magic enhanced by the crystal that he was able to sidestep the burning blade. As Drek flew by, Lance cast a gust of wind, slamming it into Drek’s back and sending him flying into the far wall.

  The force of the blow would have killed a human, but Drek merely moaned and rolled to his feet.

  “I will enjoy killing you,” Drek hissed.

  Chapter 16

  Master Porthos wiped the tears from his eyes and staggered to his feet. He didn’t have time to pity himself or feel guilty for betraying the crystal location. He had to get to Lance and help in any way he could.

  A rider suddenly appeared, heading at full gallop in his direction. As he came closer, Master Porthos thankfully recognized the brown robes of a monk.

  Porthos waved him down, and the horse slowed and stopped in front.

  “Master Porthos?” The monk asked. “I was given instructions to ride to Delvin and tell them you were missing.”

  “Well I’m here,” Master Porthos said. “There’s no time. We have to hurry back to the monastery!”

  The monk nodded and Porthos stepped up onto the horse’s back.

  The monk turned the horse around and a quick kick to its sides sent it into a gallop.

  “Hang on,” the monk warned.

  * * *

  Mallagan hobbled forward, still making her way down the hallway as Drek and Lance battled.

  Dellius backed away as Drek came toward Lance with his enchanted blades swirling in a blur of fire and ice.

  Lance shot a jet of energy out. Even with the enhancement of the Drakaran crystal flowing through his bloodstream, it was not enough to break through the wall of blades.

  Drek pressed forward. Lance stopped his attack and raised an energy shield. Drek’s blades landed heavy blow after heavy blow until suddenly, the shield shattered in a shower of sparks. Lance was thrown backward from the explosion.

  Drek leaped even as Lance was still in midair, fully intending to finish Lance off for good. The blade came down in a deadly arc.

  Lance dug into the recesses of his mind as he had done while in the arena. He pulled power from deep within himself, combining it with the Drakaran crystal shard inside his bloodstream. The result was an explosion of ultimate power.

  Lance’s body glowed blue, his pulse quickening further. His bare hand shot upward with lightning speed. The sword crashed into it and stopped, his hand turned into stone. Drek opened his mouth in shock as Lance closed his hand, the enchanted fire blade snapping in half. It fell to the floor, turning black and useless.

  “Die!” Drek yelled as he swung his ice blade in a side sweep.

  Lance waved his other hand and the blade stopped in midair, turned to ashes and drifted away in the air.

  Drek’s expression of surprise quickly turned to hatred.

  “No human can defeat me!” Drek bellowed. “I’ll kill you with my bare hands if I have to!”

  Drek spun to the side, side-stepping a jet of flame from Lance and came up directly in front of the mage. Looking down, Drek gripped the hilt of a spear sticking straight through his stomach.

  “You… are just human…” Drek whispered as he fell to his knees and toppled to the floor.

  Lance looked up to see Mallagan staring at him with burning red eyes of hatred.

  “This is where you die,” Mallagan told him.

  * * *

  Dellius backed away from Drek’s dead body.

  “I’ll… I’ll go get help,” the monk stammered. “Fulfill the prophecy, Lance!” He ran off down a side hallway, leaving Mallagan and Lance alone.

  Mallagan and Lance stared at each other in silence for a few moments. The tension and amount of power in the hallway was palpable.

  “You are as strong as your father was,” Mallagan admitted. “But I killed him, and now I will do the same to you.”

  “I will end you now,” Lance countered. “And after I kill you, my people will open a portal to your world and destroy the ones responsible and the ones you love.”

  Mallagan laughed.

  “You are too young and inexperienced to make such a bold threat,” Mallagan stated. “You are not powerful enough to open a portal to my world, and you fail to realize that I love no one. Love is a weakness.”

  An image of Charlotte smiling came into his mind.

  “Love is also my strength!” Lance shouted as he made the first move. He was unsure how long the Drakaran crystal would maintain his enhanced abilities. He needed those abilities if he hoped to defeat this monster of a woman.

  Lance’s first attack was a bolt of lightning, followed by three sharp spears in quick succession.

  Mallagan was ready and waved her hand, the barrage redirected to her sides.

  “You can’t beat me,” Mallagan said, taking several steps closer.

  Lance th
rew a fireball, summoning a gale force wind behind it to speed it up.

  Again Mallagan raised her hand and the fireball fizzles out and dispersed along an energy shield.

  She came closer, her frail body walking slowly but surely. Her red eyes, lightened by age, kept his gaze.

  “Your attacks are powerful, but unfocused,” Mallagan mused. “You are merely human. I am Drakaran and we will always be superior to you in every way.”

  Mallagan raised both hands, black smoke forming around her fingertips. Lance raised an energy shield as the smoke solidified into black tentacles, crawling forward along the floor. Just before reaching the shield, the tentacles dipped along the grooves in the stone and wormed their way underneath. Shooting upward, their iron grip secured around each of Lance’s limbs. They thrashed about, dragging him to the wall and pinning him against it.

  Mallagan came to stand in front of Lance.

  “I did tell you this would happen,” Mallagan sneered. “I am tempted to take you captive again and bring you back to fight in the arenas for our amusement, but you have proved time and time again to be a dangerous thorn in our side. It is better to end you now.”

  Mallagan concentrated and the tentacles constricted further. Another tentacle formed and wrapped around Lance’s neck. He struggled, gasping for breath. His eyes bulged as his airways constricted and his vision blurred.

  He didn’t want to die. He had so much to lose, so much more life to live.

  But the grip was too tight and Lance began to lose consciousness, his vision fading from blurry to darkness.

  * * *

  Master Porthos wasn’t a stealthy man by any means. His heavy frame and loud breathing betrayed his movements, but he knew he had to get closer if he were to help. It was difficult to watch Lance struggle, but if he missed his one chance at surprise, the fight would be over. Casting a spell from far away could miss or be blocked.