by Raymond Cain
Next, Flynn studied the red orb. The instant his fingers touched the surface, it flashed bright red. A loud c-chnk noise followed by the scrape of steel on stone reverberated behind the door. It sounded like tumblers sliding away and, in moments, the door swung open. Beyond it was a stone hallway into the mountain. The aquazite crystals around the opening brightened, preventing seawater from entering the tunnel. Evidently, they were enchanted in much the same way that ships were.
Flynn pushed himself into the invisible barrier and it felt like he was forcing his way through dense jelly. Once he stepped through, he was warm and dry in the air-filled hallway.
The air was stale and the hallway was lit by aquazite glowdiscs, much like the ones found in Seahaven. Flynn grabbed the hilt of his sword, taking comfort in its grip as he slid it out of its scabbard. After considering the foes he was about to face, he sheathed the sword and readied Stingray instead. He was an adequate swordsman, but it would be foolish to think he could best Theoric and his companion in a swordfight.
With his right eye staring down the sights on Stingray’s polished crystalline barrel, Flynn entered the hall. The gray stone walls had images carved into them that matched the description of the tomb mentioned in his parents’ journal. The first engraving portrayed an underground city full of people. The next few images revealed a humanoid race marching through the tunnels to attack the human city. Images of battle followed and it was a fascinating story, but he remained focused on the task at hand. He crept up the hall with Stingray at the ready.
A flash of purple light from an open doorway at the end of the hall urged Flynn to walk faster. The sound of stone scraping against stone echoed off the walls and Flynn loosened his sword in its scabbard, ensuring he could draw it quickly if necessary. He reached the doorway and peeked inside.
Inside the room, Theoric and the other pirate stood before a black steel door surrounded by ruby-like jewels. Eight small square pedestals, each one a handwidth wide, were situated in a semicircle around the door. The pirates stood behind the pedestals with their backs to Flynn. Neither gave any indication they knew he was there.
Set into each pedestal was a crystal handprint. There were four blue handprints that Flynn recognized as aquazite, and four red handprints crafted from red crystal. The imprints were clearly intended for people to place their hands on but Theoric placed jewels on them instead. Each jewel was identical to the one he used to poison Flynn.
The hand-shaped impressions cast a bright glow. A thin tendril of purple mist rose from each gem and spun in the air like tiny waterspouts. The eight mists swirled and grew into tight spirals that wrapped around each other like braided, purple hair. The mist moved toward the steel door and the ruby-like crystals set in the steel frame flickered in response.
“Stop!” Flynn demanded.
The two men turned around to look at him. The skull-masks they wore hid their faces and Flynn aimed Stingray at the one he suspected was Theoric. The pirate chuckled and removed his mask, confirming his suspicion.
“Shouldn’t you be dead?” Theoric asked conversationally. He seemed unconcerned by the weapon aimed at him.
“I’m not that easy to kill,” Flynn replied.
“We shall see,” Theoric said with a chuckle. “We shall see very soon. But as for your demand, I’m afraid the answer is no. I cannot stop what has already begun. The door is opening.”
The round door split into two semicircular doors that swung open. Theoric turned away from Flynn as though he was of no consequence, but the man in black chain mail kept his eyes locked on Flynn. The masked figure removed a mace from his belt loop and gripped it menacingly, positioning himself between Flynn and Theoric.
“Keep the weapon aimed at me if you like, Flynn,” Theoric said, his eyes locked on what lay behind the doors. “But watch this. You’ll find it interesting.”
Flynn found the Azuran’s lack of concern unsettling. But perhaps he could use the man’s boldness to his advantage by extracting information from him. “What is this place?”
“A tomb,” Theoric replied. “Made by your people, centuries ago. They lived in an underground city, not far from here.” The pirate tapped one of the pedestals as he continued. “There are dozens of humans buried below, many of which are likely adorned in jewels, but this vault is what I came here for. It was made by eight Gifted, and only eight Gifted souls can open it. Normally that would require eight special humans with their hands on the pedestals but as it turns out, their bodies are not required. Trapping their souls in gems is sufficient.”
Flynn aimed Stingray at the pirate in black chain mail instead. He needed Theoric alive to ensure he could trade for Galyn. “A vault containing…”
Theoric looked over his shoulder at Flynn and gasped in feigned disappointment. “Didn’t you study the carvings on the way in here? I’d say you have some homework to do.”
The vault contained a golden crown encrusted with blue and red crystals. It was the most gold Flynn had ever seen and something about it seemed familiar.
Flynn’s eyes widened in shock when he realized where he’d seen it before. He staggered back a step and lowered Stingray, his thoughts turning back to one of the stories in the old book his parents read to him. A tale filled with death, greed, and betrayal.
It was the Emperor Crown.
Of all the stories in that book, the Emperor Crown was the one that seemed the most unbelievable. It claimed the man who found the crown was initially a good person but its power corrupted him over time. He commanded legions of marine creatures to do his bidding. The story seemed like no more than a myth and yet, the crown before him was identical to the one pictured in the book. If the crown was real, and Theoric had it… Flynn shuddered at the thought.
Flynn realized that he had let Stingray lower and he silently scolded himself as he raised it, aiming it at Theoric once again. The thought of an Azuran wielding so much power terrified him. “The crown stays where it is,” he said in a shaky voice.
Theoric raised an eyebrow. “I see you just realized what this is.”
“A trinket from a children’s tale,” Flynn replied.
Theoric laughed. “A trinket secured in an impenetrable vault, hidden for centuries, and locked by a mechanism that can only be opened by eight Gifted? Surely you can lie better than that. This is the Emperor Crown, and the one who wears it can control the mind of every simple creature in the ocean.”
Flynn’s mind was reeling. Unsure of how to proceed, he tried to buy himself time to think. “How did you learn about it?”
Theoric smiled broadly. “I discovered a pair of Seablades leaving this vault one day and captured them. I tortured them for information but they wouldn’t reveal anything, not when they were alive at least. Once we killed them, they were far more talkative. But getting information was the easy part. The hard part was collecting eight Gifted souls to open the door.”
“How did you find them?”
“With this,” Theoric said, removing a crystal compass from a belt pouch. It was identical to the one Flynn found on Malya’s corpse. “It points at Gifted people. All I had to do was wait for Seahaven’s Gifted citizens to leave their city so I could capture them.”
It pointed at Gifted people? That made no sense, especially considering that the identical compass pointed at himself. “You’re lying,” Flynn said through gritted teeth.
“It wasn’t easy taking the souls from eight Gifted without arousing suspicion,” Theoric continued. “That’s why I made each one look like an accident. Merfolk, landslides, sharks—it was hard coming up with something new after a while.”
Flynn kept Stingray aimed at Theoric’s head but he risked a glance at the pirate’s compass. The needle was pointing directly at Flynn, much like the other one did when Tasker held it. “I know you’re lying, because it’s pointing at me and I have no connection to crystal.”
“Not blue crystal, no,” Theoric said, knowingly. “Anyone that has no connection to one type of crys
tal is Gifted with another, which is why you’re Gifted with crimsonite.”
Flynn’s mind was whirling. Was crimsonite the red crystal? Could Theoric be telling the truth?
“Crimsonite? There’s no such thing. You’re just trying to confuse me.” It was an unbelievable tale, but Flynn’s conviction wavered when he recalled the flash he saw in the red crystal in the Sorcery Academy. Perhaps there was an element of truth to what the pirate was saying.
Theoric shook his head no. “That’s how I was able to find you on that wooden frigate and that’s why I tried to steal your soul. It would have been one of the last ones necessary to open this vault. But I didn’t have long to wait for Tanner and that blond boy, Arthur, to leave the city.”
Flynn’s confusion gave way to hate and he was sorely tempted to shoot Theoric, despite his need to keep the pirate alive. Temporarily, at least. “You’re lying.”
Theoric looked at him curiously. “Your name is Flynn, right?”
Flynn tried to mask his surprise but Theoric saw right through it.
“Of course it is,” Theoric continued. “I recognize you now. You have your mother’s eyes.”
Flynn clenched his jaw but said nothing. Theoric’s words were nearly enough to make Flynn forget about rescuing his father and kill the pirate instead.
“Malya was her name,” Theoric went on, “I remember her beautiful green eyes. And the way the life faded from them after I killed her.”
Flynn struggled to contain his anger. Stingray shook in his grip.
“As it turns out, I have your mother right over there,” Theoric went on. He walked to one of the gems and spoke as though he was having a lighthearted conversation with an old friend. The light from glowdiscs in the ceiling reflected off its facets, painting his face red with the glow. “Or what’s left of her, anyway. I had the rest of her once, but merfolk took her body away before I was through with it. That was unfortunate. Her corpse could have proven to be quite useful.”
Flynn was shaking with anger. If he wasn’t so desperate to barter for his father’s life, he would have shot the pirate. “There’s a man on your boat. I want him released.”
“You mean your father, Galyn?” Theoric said, and Flynn’s eyes widened at the mention of his father’s name. Theoric and his companion walked slowly around the room and Flynn circled away from them, mirroring their steps to keep his distance. “Quite the fighter, that one. He cut down three of my men before we subdued him. Without a doubt, the greatest human warrior I’ve ever seen.”
The masked Azuran shifted uncomfortably at Theoric’s words and readied his mace. Flynn knew that if he did shoot Theoric, the masked warrior would be upon him immediately. He hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
“Your life for his,” Flynn said, adjusting his grip on Stingray for emphasis. “You can send your friend to deliver the message and free the man. That’s my offer.”
“So that’s why you’re here?” Theoric said, incredulously. “For Galyn, not the crown?”
Flynn spoke sternly. “The crown isn’t going anywhere.”
“What do you want your father for, Flynn? He’s a traitor. He’s worked for me for some time now.”
Flynn’s hands were shaking but he kept Stingray aimed at the center of Theoric’s chest. “You’re lying.”
“Why would I lie? To ensure you’ll kill me? No, Flynn. Sure, I killed your mother when she started snooping around. But your father? I used him to hunt down the last few. . .”
Blinded by rage, Flynn pulled the trigger. His aim was perfect and the bolt flew toward Theoric’s heart. The pirate made no move to defend himself but his ally moved with uncanny speed. The man swung his mace into the path of the bolt, deflecting it away and saving the pirate.
“Well, it’s about time,” Theoric said, brushing off the front of his leather coat as though Flynn’s attack was no more than a speck of dust to be wiped away. “I thought you would never shoot.”
Flynn released Stingray and unsheathed his longsword. He considered running but the Azurans stood between him and the exit. It hadn’t occurred to him that Theoric’s seemingly random pacing was actually a ruse to place the two of them in front of the exit to prevent Flynn from escaping.
“As much as I would love to kill you, Flynn, I have a gift for you instead. I will give you what you asked for.” Theoric removed his colleague’s bone mask and Flynn was so shocked at what he saw, he nearly dropped his sword.
It was his father.
Flynn stared into his father’s eyes and saw no emotion there. There was no spark of recognition. The man’s eyes were dull, almost lifeless.
“Galyn,” Theoric said, “This is your son. Do me a favor and kill him for me.”
Galyn nodded, and marched toward Flynn the way a predator marches toward its food. Flynn held his sword down at his side. There was no way he could fight his own father.
He changed his mind when his Galyn’s mace came swinging toward him.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
No mace or sword could have done as much damage to Flynn as the blow he felt when he saw the empty shell that was once his father. It felt as though his heart was ripped from his chest. A mindless slave under Theoric’s control was a fate worse than death. At that moment, killing his father would have been merciful.
But Flynn could not kill Galyn, even if he mustered the nerve to do so. The man was a Seablade and one of the Citadel’s finest graduates. Even Theoric, a champion of the gladiator arena in Vekpottaic, praised the man’s skills with a blade. Flynn did not have the will, nor the skills, to defeat his father.
Galyn swung his spiked mace but Flynn made no attempt to dodge it. He was too stunned to move and part of him believed that no matter how powerful the magic that stole his father’s mind, Galyn would not kill him. As the mace came swinging toward his face, he closed his eyes and waited to see if he was right.
The mace passed in front of Flynn, close enough to blow his hair back in the breeze. A glimmer of hope surged through him when the attack passed him by. Perhaps a small part of his father did remain in the animated body standing before him.
Theoric picked up a soul gem from one of the pedestals and peered intently into it. “Kill him, Galyn,” Theoric snarled, and a tiny black mist inside the gem swirled in response to the words. “You cannot resist. I command you to kill him.”
Galyn’s face was a mask of anguish. The man stepped forward but his movements were stiff and jerky. Flynn’s heart soared at the sight. It seemed Theoric did not have complete control.
“Fight it, Dad,” Flynn said, tears streaming down his face. “You can fight it.”
Galyn shook his head no and if it were possible for him to cry, Flynn was sure the man would have been doing so. Galyn swung his mace, faster and more accurate than his last attack, but slow enough for Flynn to dodge out of the way. If Theoric had full control over Galyn, the attack would have crushed Flynn’s skull.
Theoric rolled his eyes. “Stupid priest,” he muttered. “I knew he lacked the expertise for that spell.” The pirate put Galyn’s soul gem in his coat pocket and unsheathed a pair of jewelled cutlasses. “Back off, Galyn, I’ll do it myself.”
Galyn stepped back and Theoric stepped forward. The Azuran’s purple eyes flared with anger and pale blue light from the glowdiscs in the ceiling glimmered off the cutlasses’ razor-sharp edges.
Flynn’s heart beat like a drum and energy surged through him. He knew how dangerous his opponent was but he felt hatred, not fear. He stepped forward and lunged with his sword, a vicious attack threatening to impale Theoric through the chest. Theoric easily swept the sword away with one of his cutlasses and Flynn deftly stepped back out of reach for a counterattack, but none came.
Flynn pressed forward, launching a barrage of attacks that put Theoric on the defensive. Driven by rage, Flynn slashed furiously at the pirate and as his anger increased, so too did the power of his attacks. Out of the corner of his eye, Flynn glimpsed his father. He hoped Galyn might h
elp him defeat the Azuran but Galyn just stood there, motionless. Galyn’s previously blank expression was replaced by one of concern.
Theoric blocked one of the slashing attacks and in the same motion, he swung a jeweled hilt forward, smashing Flynn in the face. The blow knocked Flynn back a step and split his lip. Knowing that a skilled opponent would surely seize the advantage after such a blow, Flynn wisely stepped back out of range. Once again, no attacks came.
“Toying with me?” Flynn asked, hoping to buy more time to regain his senses.
“Prolonging the moment,” Theoric replied, smiling. “And giving Galyn a show.”
Mention of his father reminded Flynn what was at stake and he drove forward with more zeal than before. The clatter of steel on steel echoed off the walls and dozens of perfectly executed attacks were dodged, blocked, and parried by the Azuran. Before long, Flynn’s chest was heaving with exhaustion and Theoric seemed barely winded.
The Azuran slashed across at neck level and Flynn parried the blow with surprising ease. Too late, he realized the attack was just a feint. The pirate followed the attack with a kick that smashed Flynn in the side of the head. His crystal breathing helm went flying and he crumpled to the floor. Stunned by the blow, Flynn brought his sword up defensively. Theoric kicked it out of his hand, sending it bouncing across the flagstones.
Flynn’s head felt like an ogre’s club struck it. He looked at his father for help but the man stood resolute. Galyn remained fixed in place, the eyebrows on his otherwise expressionless face wrinkled together in a look of pain and concern.
Theoric shook his head in disappointment, and he turned to Galyn. “Is this truly your son? Surely you could have trained him better than this.”
Galyn offered no reply. Flynn hoped mightily the thrashing he’d just received would help his father overcome the enchantment he was under, but Galyn stood obediently against the wall, awaiting his next command.