Steve winced but could say nothing to dispute it, for the king had a valid point. Even so, for reasons he could not readily explain, he remained doubtful to his very core. He knew he would have to think on this problem and made a mental note to research the prophecy everyone seemed so fond of quoting at the first opportunity.
Below them, the land gave way to hills, which soon rose higher still to form mountains covered in lush acres of trees and cool, blue streams. They pressed ever further and the mountains grew higher and higher, before long rising up to either side of the Jisetra and their guests to challenge the very clouds for the sky. The king’s garrison navigated the great passes and valleys with the surety, strength and adroitness of eagles.
“Wizard, if I may, I would like to ask you a personal question.”
Something in King Gorium’s tone struck a dubious chord in Steve but he nodded all the same. “Go ahead.”
“This other friend of yours, what is she to you? A wife perhaps?”
Steve laughed. “Oh, no, she –“
“Excellent!” the King exclaimed, then he seemed to realize he had just cut the young wizard off and said, “Oh, forgive my manners.”
“King Gorium, I get the impression there is something you aren’t telling me, and it has me a bit confused.”
“But that is good!” the King replied heartily—though an obvious deflection to the young man. “Confusion is a part of life; as are vengeance, fear, and love.”
The emphasis on that last word worried Steve by no small margin.
A soldier in the front of the garrison put a horn to his lips and then issued several notes that resounded off the valley walls and derailed Steve’s train of thought, for the spectacle ahead left him absolutely speechless. It was the size of a mountain.
No, it is the mountain, he thought stunned.
Steve’s eyes traced the valley floor leading to the base of a mountain like any other, heavily forested and teeming with wildlife. But five-hundred feet up, the forest gave way to rock; and a thousand feet higher, the rock gave way to a fortress carved from the very stone itself. Parapets, walls, grand terraces and majestic spiraling pillars standing among decorative wrought iron gates, and great towers; all speaking to the greatness of the Jisetrian nation.
“From where it starts, to the top of the mountain,” King Gorium said with pride in his voice, “and around all sides. It was completed eons ago, but took three and a half centuries to complete.”
For a moment Steve could not speak in the face of the awesome spectacle. Finally, “It’s incredible!”
The battlements, balconies, and bartizans shined like silver in the bright sunlight of morning; and the cone-shaped palace boasted bright, multicolored banners proudly snapping in the mountain breezes, boldly enhancing its brilliant splendor and lending a certain ostentatious display.
Steve’s stomach lurched as they descended suddenly. The mountains to either side seemed to rush past, seemingly chased away by the upward rushing valley below before they leveled off two thousand feet above the tips of the tallest trees. There, the base of King Gorium’s mountain home loomed before them like a small planet and Steve couldn’t help but recall Obi-wan Kenobi’s oft-quoted line of “That’s no moon.”
The guards upon the parapets saluted their king as he approached and King Gorium acknowledged this with a nod. One of the guards then turned and signaled to someone Steve could not readily locate, and three of a dozen massive drawbridges set side-by-side in the base of the fortress lowered. The king and the two winged soldiers carrying Steve moved into the lead of the formation and then swooped down toward the middle entrance. Steve closed his eyes as they dived, banked, and then swooped into the center opening with him swinging like a controlled pendulum below. When he opened his eyes again he found himself moving swiftly down a great tunnel with a third of the king’s garrison flying a staggered elevation formation, low, middle and high, close behind. Deeper they flew, farther into the bowels of the great fortress until emerging into a huge inner chamber where hundreds more Jisetra awaited in formations on the floor and standing in alcoves set into the walls. All at once, they roared with a mighty cheer.
The two Jisetra carrying him deposited Steve gently to the floor. Another stepped up to him and made two quick cuts to the harness, allowing it to fall away from him like a shed skin about his feet.
King Gorium moved up by his side smiling from ear to ear. “They are here for you, my young wizard friend.” Hundreds more filled the chamber as the rest of the rescue garrison flew in from adjacent tunnels.
“I don’t understand,” Steve said confused. “They don’t even know who I am.”
“Oh, but they do, wizard, they do. Your coming has set the Great Wheels of Destiny in motion. When Eegrin burst into my throne room shouting the Third Power had arrived, I thought the boy gone mad. But once we understood your situation word spread through the fortress like demonfire. It would not surprise me if it has already spread to our lookouts on the ranges.” King Gorium turned to face his people and a renewed cheer erupted from all. “Hear me!” he cried above the din. “Hail to the Third Power of Mithal!”
A near-thousand swords left their sheaths as one and then stabbed upward like a legion of lightning rods. Their voices were like thunder in the massive chamber. “All hail the Third Power! Emperor of Mithal!”
Steve looked himself over in the full-length mirror of his room and whistled appreciatively. “Ve-ry nice,” he commented aloud. Despite the latest claims of the Jisetra, he knew he was not royalty; but King Gorium refused to believe otherwise and insisted he dress the part.
After their arrival Steve was fed, bathed and measured for a new wardrobe by order of His Majesty. A dozen winged tailors had scurried about him taking measurements so detailed he was certain they must be fanatics of their trade.
Then again, he thought, maybe disappointing the king just isn’t an option.
Whatever the reason, they had accomplished a superb job. Not even his favorite pair of Levis felt this made-to-fit. Eight golden buttons lined the front of a masterfully crafted, white silk shirt with sleeves that billowed slightly from the shoulders and cinched at the wrists with fine golden chains decoratively wrapping up both arms. White breeches belted around his waist displayed a golden-threaded, embroidered falcon in fierce pose along each thigh. The cape about his shoulders extended nearly the full length of his frame, ending within inches of the heels of his white leather boots. All in all, Steve had to admit, he looked like a million bucks.
He crossed the room with his cape flowing after him and then seated himself on the red satin comforter of a huge bed wide enough for eight people to lie side-by-side. Steve was beginning to wonder if there was anything in the king’s castle that didn’t exist on such a grand scale.
Unable to sit still, he moved across the plush carpet and opened the glass double doors to the balcony before stepping out into the crisp mountain air and the awe-inspiring view. He stared out at the valley below like a painter contemplating the impossible task of capturing the splendor he beheld. A green carpet of trees stretched out before him and rolled down the valley and up the face of the mountains to either side, where ice blue streams flowed from snow-capped peaks like veins in the landscape. To his right a waterfall spilled out over the granite face of a cliff where two eagles soared on the rushing zephyr that tousled his hair. He had to hand it to her, Mother Nature was a formidable artist.
Steve turned at a knock on his door. He left the balcony and then closed the doors behind himself. “Come in.”
Eegrin entered dressed in a formal emerald green uniform. A single braided rope of silver ran from his right shoulder to his left hip and back again. Admiring his human friend’s new attire, he smiled approvingly. “You certainly look the part of your status now.”
Steve sighed his lack of enthusiasm for the state he now found himself in. “The only status I have is that of a high school student. Not Third Power, or Emperor of Mithal, or any other ti
tle I might trip over before I get out of here.”
“Then you are forgetting the powerful magic denoting you as the Third Power. The Great Wheels of Destiny have…”
“I am not the Third Power!” Steve blurted in exasperation. “Everyone keeps talking about this prophecy—but you yourself said it was just a legend.”
Sunlight streamed in from the balcony windows as sunset changed the color of the sky and bathed Steve in an aura of golden orange in the fading light of day.
“You really do not believe, do you—after everything?”
“I know I’m not. It’s not that I want to seem ungrateful for everything your king has done for me, but what am I supposed to do about all of this—“ he said grabbing the sides of his cloak and flapping it once “—when everyone finally figures out I’m not their guy?”
Eegrin nodded. “I admire such honesty and integrity. You speak your thoughts openly and without deceit. So many others would not hesitate to take advantage given the same situation. However,” he shrugged and held out his hands, “who you are really makes little difference, anyway. Third Power or not, you possess powerful magic, and King Gorium would have you his ally because of it.” He looked to Steve then, and to Steve it seemed rather reluctantly so. “Like all other characteristics, magic is hereditary.”
Steve had looked away to gather his thoughts but this brought his attention back like a cracking whip. He replayed those words over in his mind, deriving the obvious conclusion, but scarcely wanting to believe it. “What are you saying?”
Eegrin shrugged. “The king has a daughter.”
Steve turned on his heel and put his palms to his temples. He wanted more than ever to find a path here and now that could take him far, far away, but instead settled for a seat at the end of his bed. It seemed every time he turned around his world got just a little bit more complicated.
“What if I just say no?” he asked suddenly.
Eegrin gave him a pained look, “I do not think that is a possibility.”
“The hell it isn’t! I am not the arranged marriage kind of guy. Where I come from we play by a different set of rules.”
“That is your world,” Eegrin reminded him. “However, there is another way. My king believes you to be the Third Power, which places you in a position to refuse a marriage with his daughter.” He paused and then said, “All you need do is speak the name of the woman you do wish to marry.”
Steve breathed a sigh of relief. “No problem, then. I’ll just name someone who isn’t here.”
“The king will fetch her.”
“Then I’ll name someone from my world.”
Eegrin was shaking his head. “The prophecy states the Third will wed unto one of the royal houses of Mithal. No one from your world is eligible—at least not in the eyes of the king.”
Steve didn’t know what to say, though the disbelief on his face spoke volumes. “I’ve got to get home,” he said exasperated. “That’s all there is to it. On this world I could stand perfectly still and things would spin crazy around me.”
“Perhaps so,” Eegrin said reaching for the door. “But for now we must go and join the king in the great hall. Who knows? Maybe I am wrong and he will not ask you to marry his daughter, after all.”
Steve dared to hope. “You think so?”
Eegrin shook his head, regret full on his face. “I do not.”
Eegrin led him silently through a maze of corridors and inner chambers decorated splendidly in rich fabrics, fine tapestries, and beautiful works of art. Every Jisetrian they passed bowed respectfully to Steve, who himself did not know how to respond to the courtesy. He decided finally just to nod as the king had done rather than potentially make a fool of himself with some other gesture.
“Have you seen Sonya?” he asked finally, more so take his mind off his worries.
“I have not—at least not since I left her in the field in my rush to rescue you.”
“She’ll be at the banquet, won’t she?”
“Oh, yes,” Eegrin assured him with a nod. “I informed the king that, like you, she comes from Earth, and is also your friend. After all, any close friend of the Third Power of Mithal is a welcome guest of the Jisetra.”
Steve had to hand it to the king. He couldn’t help but be impressed at the great lengths taken to make him feel welcome. But that did not make him forget, however, His Majesty’s underlying motive to influence his decision to marry.
They stopped before a pair of double doors painted with the scene of an aerial battle pitched between the Jisetra and a winged serpent. The two sentries standing watch touched their fists to their chests just above their hearts in salute. Steve nodded in return, and the two guards opened the doors for their passage. Eegrin paused just a moment to say, “When we pass through, take three steps and wait. The King will wish to greet you formally.” Steve nodded at this and together they stepped inside.
The young wizard decided the answer to his earlier question to himself was no. There really did not seem to be anything that did not exist on a grand scale; and the banquet hall was no exception. Eegrin halted and Steve proceeded the three steps and then stopped, waiting, his eyes taking in the scene of splendor and decadence. Above him, crystal chandeliers of amazing complexity hung suspended like translucent puzzles in the air while great glowing orbs—powered by what magic he could only guess—shined down from their wall sconces and bathed the entire chamber in a full but soft light. In the center of this tremendous room, a black and white tile floor polished to a mirror-like quality and surrounded by scores of blue satin-covered tables at which sat over two hundred military officers, lords and ladies of King Gorium’s court.
The king himself sat at a table entirely separate at the far end of the chamber. He wore regal robes of emerald and crimson with a thin band of gold resting upon his brow. He rose from his crafted oak throne and boomed in a loud voice, “My friends, this day is cause for celebration! I welcome you, Steven, mighty magus and Third Power of Mithal, to the kingdom of the Jisetrian people.” The surrounding court rose from their seats as one and waited.
Steve’s gaze had already found Sonya, seated immediately to the king’s left and dressed in an exquisite off-the-shoulder gown of royal blue. Her smile as their eyes met warmed him. After a few too many moments of silence, Eegrin moved up beside his friend and nudged him from his distraction.
“Ah, yes. King Gorium,” he said, “on behalf of Sonya and myself, I thank you for your hospitality. I also want to thank you and all the Jisetrian warriors involved in my rescue for your timely assistance, without which I might not have survived.”
“On behalf of my people, I assure you it was our great honor,” King Gorium replied. “You freed one of my men, and for that I’m thankful to you.”
Despite his words, Steve could not help but ponder what level of assistance King Gorium would have rendered had he not believed he was rescuing the Third Power. An unsettling thought but he wondered all the same.
The king gestured idly and then everyone took their seats once more. With a look and nod from their monarch, the musicians took up their instruments and played a favorite piece of the regent’s that had become a traditional opening for his banquets and balls. Simultaneously, a young woman to the King’s right left her seat and made her way toward the two young men across the hall.
“I thought as much,” Eegrin muttered below his breath.
Here we go, Steve thought steeling himself. One thing was certain: his winged friend had not given him the wrong impression about her. The approaching young woman appeared every bit as beautiful as described. Long, strawberry red hair framed a face marked by regal shape, high cheekbones, and a voluptuous figure. Just then, however, he realized King Gorium’s deviousness as she walked toward him with her crimson wings folded neatly across her back.
“Not good,” Steve muttered. Left and right, and all about, his gaze scanned the other guests; just as he was the only man dressed in white, so too was she the only woman. Her
intricate, white off-the-shoulder gown featured gold embroidery, hand-beaded pearls, and a full gathered skirt of a royal magnificence unequalled by any other woman in the room. She stopped in the center of the checkerboard marble floor and, this time, Steve needed no instruction. With a deep breath to steady his nerves, he walked forward.
He stopped before her and King Gorium’s voice called over the soft melody in the air. “May I introduce my daughter, Princess Vessla.” She curtsied with a shy smile and he met this with a practiced bow of his own.
Earlier that day Eegrin had taught him a traditional, yet simple, dance commonly known by all of the high court of Jisetra; and now, as he and the princess came together and touched hands, he was particularly thankful for his friend’s time. Though a far cry from anything he had ever done on the dance floor at The Oz, this integrated elements almost avian in movement, and its simple grace he found enjoyable to perform. Even given his practice, however, he was not without missteps, but Princess Vessla’s royal proficiency compensated expertly for his mistakes, her lithe form responding to make most go unnoticed.
Steve tried to maintain his focus on the dance but found it exceptionally difficult. The back of the princess’s dress was open to allow for her wings, and those times of the dance when his arm encircled her waist he found her soft skin under his touch a distraction.
The music then ended, to both Steve’s relief and dismay, and the two of them proceeded together back to the head table.
King Gorium greeted them with his usual good cheer as Steve helped the princess with her chair. “You have learned the Dance of Morinkine well, Steven,” he commented.
Steve rolled his eyes as he took his seat by the King’s daughter. “Thanks, though I know I have a lot of room for improvement.”
Princess Vessla reached over and touched the top of his hand, “I would be happy to teach you, Wizard Steven. You move very well and I think you would prove to be a most adept student.”
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