The Sorceress's Apprentice

by Joshua Jackson

  “Are those grenades powerful enough to collapse the bridge?” I asked.

  Athala choked off a laugh. “No,” she answered flatly. “They are little more than distractions and cause no serious damage.”

  “Except to your ears,” I muttered. “What if we attacked as a feint and pulled them away from the gate, then doubled back around and slipped in?”

  “They will not leave their posts,” Athala answered. “They would pursue as far as the edge of the plaza but anything after that would be handled by other soldiers.”

  I frowned. We couldn’t fight them and we couldn’t trick them. At best, we’d just bring in a bunch more soldiers, adding to our problems. That’s when a truly insane idea struck me.

  “The inside of the rampart, is it smoothed over or plastered?” I queried.

  “No, just stone and mortar. Wh—oh no,” Athala protested when my plan clicked. “You cannot seriously be considering free-climbing it with all our gear?”

  “It’s hardly the craziest stunt we’re going to attempt today,” I retorted.

  “All the more reason we should be trying any more idiotic tricks!” she rebutted. “We will get cut to pieces or smashed to pieces.”

  “You saying you can’t make the climb?” I challenged, goading her ego.

  “Of course not,” she snapped. “But we will get killed by arrows, spears, rocks, and whatever else they can find to throw at us.”

  “Not if they are all here,” I said with an unfortunately invisible smug smile.

  Athala was quiet for a moment. “What are you thinking?” she finally asked.

  It took the rest of the morning to set up my scheme. Athala worked her way to the other gate while I took a handful of her grenades. During our downtime at Miner’s Home, Athala had encased the black powder in ceramic balls, which she said would increase the explosive power, as well as adding shrapnel.

  The work was grueling on my nerves. The cloak kept me concealed but every movement risked exposure. Carefully, I deposited the little bombs around the plaza, all the while trying to avoid detection. Twice my heart nearly stopped when a soldier suddenly shifted his gaze to where I was. Going stalk-still, I waited, holding my breath as he stared right where I was laying. After several long minutes, he would resume his forward-facing posture.

  It killed me not knowing what was happening with Athala. Had she been captured? Killed? Was she still free? Not knowing her fate was far worse than worrying about myself.

  After setting the last one, I lit the fuse and quickly worked my way to the other grenades, lighting their fuses. I wasn’t too concerned with being discovered at this point; if anything it helped me. After lighting the second one, one of the soldiers noticed me and started toward where I was shimmering in and out of view.

  “Get back in line!” shouted one of the half dozen officers.

  “Intruder,” replied the soldier in that eerie voice.

  “What? I do not—”

  I sprang at the officer, decapitating him and dropping the lit grenade into the middle of the soldiers, retreating down the rampart, covering my ears and eyes. To my right, the first one went off, letting out a deafening roar with a blinding light. A moment later, the next one went off at the same time as the one I’d left behind.

  As the dust began to settle, I knew I’d only have a couple of minutes at most. I raced towards the dazed soldiers, striking down as many as I could. I especially targeted who I guessed to be the officers, knowing without their direction the mind-broken soldiers would be slower to react. Reinforcements began flooding the gate much sooner than I’d planned, forcing me to retreat down the slope of the rampart.

  “What is going on?” demanded the officer of one of the contingents.

  “What?” shouted an officer I’d apparently missed.

  “I said, what is going on?” repeated the new officer.

  “What?”

  Smiling, I lit another grenade and tossed it into the fray. I counted to three, and then lit one of my buried ones, hurrying to the final bomb. Just then, I heard a crash from the other side of the rampart. It would seem Athala was alive and well.

  Almost forgetting to protect my eyes and ears, the grenade went off, creating more chaos and confusion. Even covering my ears and shielding my eyes, I still felt slightly concussed from the blast. How it didn’t do more physical damage I’d never understand. Lighting my final bomb, I slipped just under the rampart lip and hurried back to our meeting spot.

  For the next several minutes, I huddled by our hidden gear, listening to shouts, screams and explosions detonating across the Eisenpalast defenses. Soldiers hurried past, quickly emptying the rampart. Every step made my heart stop, making me reach for my scimitar. It took every ounce of my discipline to hold still, trusting the cloak to keep me hidden. Then, it was quiet.

  “Ready?”

  I nearly leapt to the top of the Eisenpalast. “Adamah’s courts woman!” I snapped. “Don’t do that!”

  “Do what? You could not possibly know I was here so I was going to surprise you no matter what,” she pointed out. “Now let us go before they come back or I change my mind.”

  Pointlessly nodding, I grabbed our bag and crept to the crown. “Whoa,” I said, looking over the edge. It was at least fifteen meters down to a mostly empty courtyard. “That’s a long way down.”

  “I am well aware,” Athala said tightly from somewhere to my right.

  Not giving Athala, or myself, time to think I swung my legs over the edge. Dust and mortar crumbled as I put my weight on my foothold.

  “Uh, how sturdy is this wall?” I asked.

  “It holds the rampart up,” Athala said flatly. “It will hold you up as well. Hurry before they realize we are not at the bridges.”

  To my left, I heard shuffling and scraping as Athala followed me over the edge. Trying not to look down and fighting off vertigo, I worked my way down to the next foothold. Shifting the weight of the bag with my shoulders, I stepped down to the next stone.

  It was nerve-wracking work but not nearly as hard as it could’ve been since the retaining wall was constructed with plenty of evenly spaced cracks and footholds. In less than ten minutes, my feet touched the bottom.

  I expected to feel relieved but now a new anxiety gripped me. Looking up at the sheer wall surrounding us, I realized just how trapped I was. There was no escaping this place if things went wrong, or any more wrong than they already had.

  “Zimri!” Athala hissed. “Company.”

  I turned to see three soldiers walking towards us. Their shields and spears weren’t raised, which was all the opening I need. Drawing my scimitar, I sprang into action, quickly cutting them down, in large part thanks to Athala’s cloak, which made me a difficult target.

  “We do not have much time,” Athala warned.

  “Yeah,” I agreed, cleaning my blade. “Where’s the dungeon?”

  “Dungeon?”

  “Let’s get Ariadne now, since we’re here,” I suggested. “Katrina is probably expecting us to come for her first, especially after our ‘assault’ on the bridges. So let’s go where she’s not.”

  “I do not think she will be so easily fooled,” Athala said, taking her hood off. “She will know by now it was a distraction.”

  “Well, we’re here now so we might as well,” I shrugged.

  Athala said nothing, weighing the idea. “Follow me,” she finally said and we hustled across the courtyard and into the Eisenpalast. Inside, we found a surprisingly well-laid out network of passages, passages Athala clearly knew intimately well.

  Suddenly, Athala stopped in front of a heavily locked door and looked around.

  “This the dungeon?” I asked.

  “Ya…but…” Athala said slowly testing the door, finding it unlocked.

  “But what? Let’s go!”

  “Wait,” Athala held me up. “It is too quiet, there are no guards, and the door is unlocked. This is too easy.”

  I ignored her, pushing the unl
ocked door open, running down the stairs with Athala right behind me.

  “Ari?” I called into the darkness.

  “Zimri?” a weak yet familiar voice called. “Is that you?”

  “Ari!” I rushed forward.

  “Wait, no, Zimri, it’s a trap!” Ariadne called.

  Suddenly torches exploded into life around us and I skidded to a stop. A sense of oppressive, evil power gripped me, almost driving me to my knees. Beside me, Athala gasped, dropping her glass sword and gripping her head. It reminded me of the sensation I got when Athala used magic, only this was a thousand times more intense.

  Breathing in and trying to push the feeling away, I looked to the far end of the corridor. Ariadne was there, chained to the floor. Her clothes were torn rags, her body a frail shell, hair thin, and a haunted, empty expression on her face.

  But my attention was riveted on the woman standing next to her. She was short but a terrifying aura of power radiated from her, filling the room. Her blond hair was long and her face had an ageless, ethereal beauty, twisted in a cruel, arrogant smile as her blood red eyes appraised us.

  “Oh schaf,” Athala swore.

  “Welcome Zimri and Athala,” Katrina spoke in smooth, commanding voice. “We have been waiting for you.”

  Chapter 44-Athala

  “Welcome home, Athala,” Katrina greeted us, eyes glowing bright red. “It has been a long time since you were here.”

  A chill ran down my spine at the sound of her voice and the feel of her power. “Ya, Mistress,” I automatically said, feeling myself fall back into my old role.

  “How many nights did you spend down here?” she questioned, voice thick with false nostalgia. “More than the others, as I recall.”

  “Ya, Mistress,” I bowed my head. I didn’t share her same nostalgia; instead I recoiled at the horror of those nights spent freezing, naked, starving, and bleeding from beatings and punishments she’d doled out.

  “You were always different than the others,” Katrina went on. “Always playing with your tricks and experiments. I always found it quaint and a bit relieving, if I may be honest. You had such a knack for magic; Natas’s power flowed through you so naturally, I feared he might have chosen you to replace me. But you were so distracted with your little experiments, you could never truly embrace his power like poor Aidan. I would never have expected you of all the apprentices to be the last one standing.”

  Olympia had told me Katrina had known but hearing her admit it aloud triggered something in me. Rage suddenly displaced fear as I looked up to stare down my old mistress.

  “You knew!” I shouted. “You knew that magic is a lie, that it is Natas’s power, not ours. You ripped me from my home, you murdered my family, you literally beat the humanity out of me, and then you sold my soul to that demon!”

  “And gave you power like few in this world have ever tasted,” Katrina scornfully retorted. “I gave you the power of a god!”

  “Power of a god?” I challenged. “You think you have any power? You are just a slave, like you tried to make me.”

  “A slave!?” roared Katrina. “Is this the power of a slave?” Raising her fist, she picked Zimri up, suspending him midair and then flinging him down the corridor, into the stairs.

  “Zimri!” I called, panic rising in me.

  “Do not worry about your precious Alkite,” Katrina said. “He is not dead. No, I have a special plan for him. I will take his mind, make him my puppet. Through him, I will rule Alkilion until I take it for myself. Then I will kill him.”

  “Touch him and you will die where you stand!” I snarled, leveling my worst glare at her. She just laughed.

  “And how will you do that, child?” she taunted. “With no magic? Do you really think those little tricks that mountain sprite taught you will do anything against my power?”

  Icy fear gripped my soul as I looked back to where Zimri was starting to come to. Looking down at my collection of tricks, I knew she was right. How could my little bombs, my sword, and shield ever stand up to such raw power?

  “Trust me,” I heard Olympia’s voice whisper. “That power is nothing but a mirage. She cannot break the laws of nature, only twist them. Twist back!”

  “I do not know how!” I protested.

  “Yes, you do,” she insisted. “Remember what I have taught; whatever she throws at you, there will be an answer.”

  “You had better tell me,” I shot back as prepared to fight back.

  “She not dead yet?” Zimri asked far more cheerfully than he ought to have.

  “No, she wants you to be her puppet in Alkilion,” I answered.

  “So I heard,” he replied. “How do we take her down?”

  “Working on it.” I quickly looked around, trying to find a good start. I had the shields and sword against fire and lightning attacks, the most common and basic offensive weapons. But I still hadn’t cracked telekinesis and if she tried something more creative like an earthquake or a storm, I had no answer.

  “There is no need to fight, Alkite,” Katrina talked much more sweetly to Zimri. “Surrender to me and I will show you power beyond your dreams.”

  “I tried that once,” Zimri said, deftly raising his shield. “Wasn’t much fun. How about instead you give me Ariadne and then die?”

  Katrina’s face darkened. “I was not giving you a choice. You will be my servant in Alkilion.”

  “Make me!” Zimri challenged.

  “As you wish,” Katrina smirked. Beckoning with her finger, Zimri suddenly started flying towards her.

  “Not again!” he shouted as he struggled against the telekinetic pull, driving his sword into the dusty ground for leverage.

  Suddenly, I seemed to understand exactly what was happening. Acting before I had time to think my way out of it, I opened my water flask and threw the contents at Zimri. As the water hit him, it suddenly exploded in a plume of steam. A moment later, Zimri burst out of the cloud, scrambling towards me. His face was flushed red and mist soaked his face and hair.

  “What was that?” he asked.

  “Olympia’s inspiration, I think,” I answered. “We must get out of here. It is too cramped in here and if she touches us…”

  “Yeah, the mind thing,” Zimri agreed, grabbing my bag. With a quick motion, he lit a fuse and rolled a grenade towards the steam.

  We sprinted out of the dungeon, back through the passages, and came out into the lower courtyard. Almost instantly, we were met by a hail of arrows. Zimri managed to get his shield up in time and the arrows plunked harmlessly off the dragonhide. Unfortunately, we were now trapped.

  “Where to now?” Zimri asked as we retreated inside, closing the door behind us.

  “Throne room,” I said, rushing past him. “It is big and open and where I thought best to confront her in the first place.”

  Zimri trailed behind as I led us down the hall towards the central stairwell and nearly got myself skewered by a soldier ambushing us from a side passage. Zimri knocked me to the ground with his shield, earning a score across his forearm. He decapitated the spear and then the soldier two moves later.

  Another attacked from the rear but Zimri pivoted in time to intercept the strike. Standing over me, he quickly dispatched the soldier with a slice across the throat.

  “You okay?” he asked, pulling me to my feet.

  “A little bruised but probably better than you,” I pointed to the line of blood staining his shirt.

  “Just a flesh wound,” he smiled. “I can’t have you having more scars than me. What would that say?”

  I smiled despite our desperation. “Perhaps you ought to lead and I will direct you,” I suggested.

  “Sounds good. Straight?”

  I nodded and we were off again. Zimri had to down three more soldiers between us and the stairs and another four on our way up to the main hall. He might not have been Titan, but he was damn good all the same. These mind-broken soldiers stood no chance against the trained and battle-hardened Alkite kn
ight.

  “Oh come on!” Zimri groaned as we entered the foyer before the throne room. Half a dozen officers in black armor, Katrina’s personal guard, barred our way.

  “Cover your ears,” I warned, lighting one of the grenades and tossing it towards them.

  Zimri and I shut our eyes and covered our ears as the bomb lit up the room. Yawning to clear my ears, I turned to see our enemies picking standing back up, reassuming formation.

  “Uh-oh,” Zimri breathed.

  “We learn too!” one of the black soldiers shouted back.

  Zimri and I exchanged looks and another insane idea came to me.

  “We surrender!” I declared, winking at him.

  “Wait…we what?” Zimri gaped at me.

  “We cannot defeat them,” I pointed out.

  “I’m offended,” Zimri retorted.

  “We cannot beat them,” I repeated with a roll of the eyes. “And the Mistress wants you alive.”

  “I don’t intend to…oh!” His eyes lit up and he dropped the sword and shield. “Right, we surrender. Take us to the Mistress.”

  Two soldiers collected our gear while another two tied us up, pushing us toward the throne room.

  “She is waiting for you,” one of them said.

  “How’d she get…nope, never mind,” Zimri amended. “I don’t think I want to know.”

  We were led into the throne room. Katrina sat on her throne, looking as regal as ever with Ariadne chained like a dog at her feet.

  “Has the clever girl run out of tricks?” Katrina demanded icily, arching an eyebrow.

  I smiled back. “Not quite.”

  I dropped down, tucking as much of me under the invisibility cloak as I could. It wasn’t enough to truly vanish but it was enough to baffle my escort. For just a moment, both of our guards were focused on my sudden disappearance but that moment was all the time the Alkite knight needed. Whipping around, he sliced his bonds on the nearest spear blade.