by Ben Hale
The spike touched her chest and pressed into her armor, driving into the thick material. It became hard to breathe, the effort increasing as she felt the armor begin to give way. She knew that, when it did, the spike would tear through her body. . .
A hole exploded into view near the wall and a geyser of water rose into the air. Instead of falling back to the ground, it sharpened and drove into the floor, piercing it and disappearing from view.
At the sudden appearance of the magic, Wylyn’s eyes widened in shock. Serak glanced that way, releasing Lira and Jeric from their bounds. Lira swung her air blade with all her might, shattering the aquaglass shard before leaping into the air. Casting stepping stones to aid her flight, she cast wings of air and leapt high, soaring around the top of the chamber.
“She’s flying!” a dakorian shouted in surprise.
Lira cast a spear of air and dropped to the ground, using the fall to drive the spear into the back of a dakorian at the Gate. Badly wounded, he still spun and swung his hammer. She launched herself into a long back flip as the hammer came down where she’d stood.
Hammer blasts flew at her and she ducked and weaved. Distantly she was aware of another geyser of water, and then another, and realized Water was shattering the supports of the floor, intent on collapsing the entire structure.
Gouts of water detonated across the floor, rising and crashing into the floor again, shattering supports and flooring, tearing them apart one hole at a time. Lira dived to the floor and used the explosions of water to hide her approach, and then slashed her sword across the neck of a dakorian. It spun at the last moment and caught her blade, throwing her aside. She managed to keep her sword and landed on her feet, casting strength to deflect the incoming hammer. Then she rotated and drove her sword upward, beneath the bone armor.
She flashed a grim smile at the mortal blow, even dying he struck her with the back of his hand, sending her skidding away. Another dakorian appeared, his hammer falling toward her chest—and landing on Jeric’s sword.
He released the hilt and sent it spinning around the shaft of the hammer, the hilt smashing into the dakorian so hard the horn snapped, the bone tumbling away. The soldier growled and reached for the hilt of Jeric’s sword, but the weapon turned on him, morphing into a face and claws that ripped into the dakorian’s armor, gouging the bone and drawing blood. The dakorian recoiled and threw the hilt aside, but it leapt back into Jeric’s hand, who darted in, evading the meaty blows to land his own, a brutal strike through the chest plate, forcing the dakorian back.
All around was mayhem. Wylyn was shouting at her soldiers to take the Gate outside, but the floor was trembling, and an entire corner caved in, taking the wall with it. Tardoq barked an order and the dakorians converged on the Gate, attempting to wrest it from its moorings by brute force. Lira saw her chance and cast a thunderstorm.
Clouds formed in the ceiling above, the driving wind pulling the water from the geysers. The clouds darkened and rain began to fall. Wind shrieked across the chaotic battlefield as geysers continued to tear through the floor. Lira caught a glimpse of Wylyn and Serak retreating to the door. Serak clearly possessed a great deal of water magic, but he made no move to stop the destruction. Their eyes met, and she had the insane thought that Serak had orchestrated the entire moment.
Lira gritted her teeth and reached to the clouds, intensifying the storm until lightning crackled and thunder boomed. Dakorians sought to reach her but a geyser exploded into view, cutting them off. She felt a surge of gratitude and knew Water was watching over her. Then she leapt off the ground. Snagging a fallen dakorian hammer, she cast a quartet of air stones as she sprinted to the top of the Gate.
The dakorians had managed to break the bonds and had lifted the Gate, but she reached the top and cast a needle of air on the base of the hammer’s handle. Just as she leapt over the top of the arch, she plunged the weapon into the keystone of the arch, the shaft sinking into the Gate.
A hammer appeared and slammed into her back, knocking her from the Gate. She cried out and just managed to catch herself before she struck the floor. But the damage was done, and she felt blood seeping from the wound. Tardoq stalked forward and reached out, his hammer flying into his grasp.
“And so the slave dies,” he snarled, hefting the weapon.
“Not yet,” she said defiantly.
She turned and focused her gaze on the hammer at the top of the Gate . . . and the lightning crackling in the storm above. His eyes widened and he roared an order, but it was too late. Drawn to the hammer, the lightning pulsed, striking the hammer and plunging into the Gate.
The Gate shattered.
The boom was deafening inside the confines of the chamber, and the Gate blasted apart, the pieces tearing through the nearest dakorians and cracking the floor all the way to the walls. The already unstable floor began to crumble in a groan of grinding stone and steel. Lira caught a glimpse of geysers, lightning, and thunder as the dakorians fled. She spotted Wylyn’s fury as the krey woman was dragged through the entrance. Then Jeric scooped Lira into his arms and raced away—but the floor crumbled beneath them. The rising lake reached up to engulf her and suddenly she was underwater.
The temple, the hill, the remnants of the Gate Chamber, all of it crashed into the sudden well of water. The dakorians scrambled for safety as the colossal groan filled the air. The pillars of the temple came down, the great stones and walls crashing into the Gate Chamber, the entire hill collapsing. When the boulders and broken pillars of the temple finally lay still, the sounds of chaos came to an end.
Nothing emerged.
Chapter 15: The Titan Chamber
Elenyr, Mind, and Fire departed Cloudy Vale and took their journey north, to Herosian. The capitol city had been built near the end of the Mage Wars, with much of the construction completed by the Verinai prior to their fall. Since then, the city had grown significantly, with villages and settlements surrounding the city proper.
High walls circled the city, the stones bleached white by the sun. Buttresses extended up to the battlements above, where soldiers patrolled. Dwarven-crafted ballistae further reinforced the city walls, adding to the formidable city.
Elenyr and her companions approached the city from the south, passing through endless tracts of farmland as they followed the large highway. Horses grazed in corrals, their owners laboring to train the steeds. Cattle ranged in the outer fields, the large herds feeding on lush grass that thrived in the region.
“King Porlin may not be present,” Mind said, motioning to the castle rising behind the city walls. “The Talinorian Games began yesterday.”
“We can find out easily enough,” Fire said.
Elenyr stepped around a cart carrying two children to reach the guards permitting entry. The quartet of soldiers recognized Elenyr and waved them through, and Elenyr passed beneath the thick walls to reach the city.
Elenyr motioned to the captain and the man approached. Although not all the city guard knew Elenyr and the fragments, most recognized them as mercenaries that completed bounties for the crown. Elenyr frequently dispersed her portion of the coin to the guards that assisted her, a fact that led to a wellspring of loyalty from the common soldiers.
“Erina,” the captain said with a nod, calling her by the name Elenyr had been using for the last decade. “Do you need assistance?”
“Where is King Porlin?”
“At Stormwall for the games,” the captain said with an apologetic look. “But I’m sure the captain of the guard would be able to assist you. Would you like me to dispatch a messenger . . .?”
“No, thank you,” Elenyr said. “We’ll find him.”
The man inclined his head and departed, and Elenyr turned toward the castle. When they were out of earshot of the city guard, Fire released an irritated grunt.
“We’ll have to track the king down.”
“Perhaps we can find another source of information while we are here,” Mind mused.
Elenyr fro
wned as she realized his intent. “The Assassin’s Guild? We aren’t exactly on the best of terms.”
“You did kill one of them,” Fire said with a smile.
“I was his target,” Elenyr said. “What did you expect me to do?”
Mind merely grunted. “You could have gotten answers. We don’t know who took the contract on your life.”
“He was a master assassin.” Elenyr rubbed the scar on her shoulder where the blade had pierced. “I didn’t have much choice.”
The assassin had lured her to a meeting by donning the persona of an old friend. When she’d arrived the assassin had struck. She’d phased to ethereal, but the blade had been enchanted with lightning magic, and even in her ethereal form, it had cut deep.
“Perhaps we can even discover the identity of the lightning mage,” Mind said.
“It’s been eight years,” Fire said. “Why did they not send another assassin?”
“If they wanted to complete the contract, they would have sent another by now,” Elenyr said. “Mind is right. The assassins have connections across every kingdom. They could help us locate Wylyn.”
“There’s just one problem,” Fire said. “We don’t know the location of their guildhall anymore.”
“I do,” Mind said. Elenyr raised an eyebrow. He shrugged. “I may have picked the memory from the last assassin I encountered.”
Elenyr swept a hand forward. “Then by all means, lead the way.”
Mind inclined his head and then took the lead, guiding them into the city. The city was the largest on Lumineia, its wide streets making it feel even larger. Towering trees added shade and beauty to the streets, while shallow streams trickled their way under roads and walkways.
Shaped like a circle, Herosian was broken into rings, each marked by a road and a smaller wall. The castle comprised the center, while the first ring contained the military. The larger homes and opulent fortresses of the nobility comprised the second ring, while the third and fourth contained all the commerce, taverns, and inns. The last three circles were filled with homes, the poorer living further from the city epicenter, their homes interspersed by factories and mills. Indeed, many defined their status by the ring in which they lived.
Passing through the seventh circle, the trio worked their way through the crowd to reach the rings of commerce. As they passed the wall of the fourth ring, the buildings gained a marked shine, the shops containing jewelry and fine linens, many of which were enchanted. Renowned swordsmiths displayed their wares, the streets free of urchins, while nobles of the kingdom rode in gilded wagons. The tinkling of laughter by courtesans mingled with the exuberant laughter of men partaking at the tavern.
As they approached the military circle, Mind veered off the entrance road and followed the circular road that curved around the third district wall. One man spotted Elenyr and his eyes gained a glint of desire. He approached with a swagger in his step, but Elenyr met his gaze. The man blinked and swallowed before veering away, feigning ignorance.
She spotted Fire’s grin. “Does something amuse you?”
“Just wondering why you turn all men away.”
“I don’t have time for romance,” Elenyr said.
“You have nothing but time,” Mind countered. “Unless you still have feelings for Jeric . . .”
Elenyr grunted in irritation. “Where’s the entrance?”
Mind flashed a faint smile, as if Elenyr had confirmed his suspicions. Then he turned and ducked into a garden of a large estate. Avoiding the guards, he guided Elenyr and Fire to a small structure that bordered the third circle wall. The opposite side would be much more austere, the military circle lacking the trappings of the circle of nobles.
Mind reached the structure and motioned them inside, the interior containing tools for maintaining the estate’s gardens. The small room smelled of soil and steel, and equipment hung from nails on the walls. The building leaned against the city wall, and the builder had apparently decided to forego building the rear wall, leaving the stones of the third city wall visible.
Mind reached up and counted down and left before pressing one stone. It slid into the wall with a whisper, and Mind pressed other stones, each sliding into the wall before locking into place. The order was apparently important, because Mind mumbled to himself as if counting. Then he reached up and pressed the last stone, and light flowed from the crack.
The light glowed and reached to the other stones, the shape becoming the symbol of the assassin’s guild, two blades touching at the tip, hung above a skull. A third dagger was just visible, the hilt protruding from the skull, the blade showing beneath the jaw.
The image glowed, and then faded, and the section of wall swung inward, providing a view of the inside of the wall and a staircase descending from sight. Elenyr inclined her head to Mind as she stepped inside.
“Well done,” she said.
“Assassins always think they guard their minds,” he said. “But their thoughts are easy to find.”
“Do you read everyone’s mind?” Fire asked.
“Not yours,” Mind said, unconvincingly.
“And me?” Elenyr asked.
“Never,” Mind said, a little too quickly. As the door swung shut behind them he seemed to notice her look, and shrugged. “Sometimes. But you actually do guard your memories.”
Elenyr smiled at the defensiveness in his tone, pleased that she’d managed to disconcert him after his comments about Jeric. “Be on your guard. Do not forget these are master assassins.”
“There are seven of them and three of us.” Fire flexed his fingers, calling fire that illuminated his expression. “I’d say they’re outnumbered.”
Elenyr chuckled but did not disagree. Since Mind could feel the presence of another mind, she motioned him to the take the lead and fell into step behind him. The staircase descended below the city and then intersected with what looked to be an ancient sewer. Now dry, its stones had aged, but it still carried a trace of rank that made Elenyr wrinkle her nose.
Out of fear of discovery, the assassins moved their guildhall every few generations. Elenyr had seen most of them since her days as high oracle, especially those located close to one of the capitol cities.
Three thousand years past, one assassin had built his guildhall in the dwarven realm. Another had chosen to hide in the ruins of an old Verinai village. Most assassins, however, chose to build near a seat of power, and preferred the capitols. Then the tunnel turned—not toward the city, but toward the castle, and she frowned at the sense of familiarity.
“I’ve been here before,” Elenyr murmured.
They came to a halt, and Fire motioned to the tunnel. “When?”
“With Shadow,” Elenyr said. “We came to meet with the Assassin’s guild fifteen centuries ago.”
“So they’re reusing an old guildhall?” Mind asked, glancing to Fire.
“Looks like it,” Fire said. “What will we find?”
“A secret lost to time,” she said.
They exchanged a confused look, but Elenyr stepped in front of Mind and led them down the corridor. Now that she recognized the direction, she strode with purpose, guiding them beneath the military circle of Herosian. The tunnel turned downward, heading deeper. The tunnel was lit by ensconced orbs that gave light only when they passed, the tunnel fading to darkness in their wake. Then they reached the end of the cavern and Fire sucked in his breath, murmuring a curse of astonishment.
A massive cavern was situated directly beneath the castle of Herosian, the enormous pillars on the exterior supporting the foundations of the castle. As large as the fortress above, the cavern was lit by twelve giant symbols placed around the exterior of the room, each a symbol of the twelve common magics.
Blue light filled the space, revealing an underground river flowing through an opening on the northern side, feeding the lake at the base of the cavern. A large island rose from the center of the hidden lake, and on it stood a small castle.
Much newer than th
e cavern, the fortress contained seven towers, each dedicated to one of the assassins of the guild. A massive statue stood at the center of the castle. At least fifty feet tall, the statue was of a knight, it’s sword larger than the assassin towers. Although the cavern was ancient, the statue looked new, the stone lifelike, the muscular torso of the statue showing every curve of flesh.
“The assassins didn’t build this place,” Mind said, and nodded to the statue. “And unless I am mistaken, that is a titan.”
“It is,” Elenyr replied. “It and the cavern were built at the end of the mage wars, by the Verinai.”
Mind frowned. “You once said the Verinai built the titans beneath the castle at Herosian. They used this chamber?”
“They did.” Elenyr pointed to the statue. “Titans were sentients of magic so mighty it took ages to complete. The Verinai used four to destroy my home.”
“And that one?” Mind asked, motioning to the statue.
“That’s the original titan,” she said. “Draeken may be the last of the Verinai, but that titan is the last thing built by your people. Be grateful it will never rise.”
“Why?” Mind asked.
Elenyr’s gaze was hard. “Because I killed it.”
Chapter 16: Assassin Council
“How did you kill a titan?” Mind asked.
Elenyr spotted movement outside one of the towers and motioned them to silence. “A tale for another time. Just know it cannot be awakened.”
“So we only have seven master assassins to contend with,” Fire said.
“Perhaps not all of them are here,” Elenyr said.
“They are,” Mind said, his eyes narrowing. “It looks like we have interrupted a meeting.”
Elenyr squinted, and made out the group of men and women entering the structure that formed the titan’s footstool. A quick count revealed they were all present, and their black clothing was ceremonial, suggesting Mind’s guess was accurate.