Shield of Winter

by Aaron Hodges

  Time to try for the walls, I think, came Dahniul’s voice.

  Braidon nodded, his eyes watering with the cold. All he could do was cling on as the dragon fought to break through the Magicker’s winds. He prayed to the Gods that Enala was doing the same.

  Then with a roar, Dahniul shot for the outer walls. The move caught the soldiers below by surprise, and they were on them before the first arrow rose to greet them. It made a sharp crack as it struck Dahniul’s breast, but bounced harmlessly away. Braidon ducked low, knowing there was little else he could do. The hiss of arrows filled the air, and he heard the dragon snarl as one sliced through the soft skin of her wings, but she flew on.

  Then the air was silent once more. Sitting up, Braidon saw they had made it past the city, past the walls. The cliffs of the island were already falling away, the glistening waters of Lake Ardath spreading out all around. Braidon shivered as the island shrank into the distance.

  Beneath him, Dahniul powered onwards, her great wings carrying them rapidly across the lake. Soon, the water below turned to open fields, a single river winding its way through their expanse. Ahead, the dark trees of Sitton Forest were approaching. Behind, Ardath became a speck of black amidst the silent blue.

  Yet as he watched the distant city, it seemed to Braidon that it shimmered, and a light appeared on the walls atop the citadel. He squinted, trying to make out what it was, what was happening. The light grew stronger, its intensity swelling until it blotted out the city.

  No… he realised, icy fear turning his limbs to lead. No…it’s coming closer!

  “Dahniul!” he screamed, but it was already too late.

  With a boom that seemed to come from all around them, the light came boiling up to meet them. Braidon cried out as it struck, an awful shriek filling his ears, a searing heat, a swirl of colours blinding him. He screamed as the dragon lurched beneath him, losing his grip on the golden scales.

  Then he was falling, plummeting down, and an ocean of green was rising up to greet him…

  Epilogue

  Quinn’s legs trembled as he approached the ruined throne, his mind whirring, struggling to come up with some excuse, some justification that would save him. But in the awful silence that had swallowed the throne room, his thoughts had gone blank, and with a growing sense of despair, he sank to his knees before the dais. Hours had passed since the confrontation with Eric, but there was still no sign of the fugitives.

  The Tsar towered over Quinn, his once magnificent doublet and leggings now scorched and torn. His eyes were dark as he looked on the lieutenant, giving away nothing of his inner thoughts. A slight twitch to his lips was the only sign of his displeasure.

  “Well?”

  The sudden break in the silence made Quinn jump, though the Tsar had barely spoken louder than a whisper. A vice clamped around his chest as he struggled to find the words to reply. With painstaking slowness, he unclenched his jaw and swallowed the lump in his throat.

  “She was dying.” Once the words were out of his mouth, Quinn realised they were the only argument that might work. “She was choking, bleeding to death. I feared she would die before you finished dealing with the intruders…”

  His voice trailed off beneath the withering stare of the Tsar.

  “Is that all?”

  Quinn gulped. “I…I…” He clenched his eyes shut, and bowed his head. “I’m sorry, sir. I failed you. I let your daughter escape. I am prepared to accept my fate.”

  Despite his words, Quinn flinched as the soft rasp of steel against leather announced the unsheathing of the Tsar’s sword. A cold draught slithered down his spine as footsteps padded down the half-melted steps, finally coming to a halt beside him.

  “It is I who failed, Quinn,” the Tsar’s voice came from overhead, touched now with unmistakable sadness. Quinn looked up in surprise, his heart palpitating as the monarch continued. “I should have dealt with Eric long ago, should have known Enala still lived, that she would come for them when she realised what I’d done.”

  “What did you do?” Quinn whispered, hardly daring to breathe.

  The Tsar lifted his sword into the air, and a brilliant white lit the blade. “I did what every Magicker since the fall of Archon has failed to do. I recreated the spell that brought the Gods into the physical realm.”

  “How?”

  A smile crossed the Tsar’s lips. “It cost me greatly, but we managed it, Eric’s son and I. Fool that he was, Calybe volunteered to be the host. We both came from the right lineage, but I guess he took after his father. Eric always was the type for self-sacrifice. Even at the end…” He shook his head, as though to dismiss the memory of the old man, before going on: “We cast the spell, and let the spirit of Darius enter Calybe. Together, we brought the God of Light back to life.”

  Quinn looked around quickly, as though the reincarnation of Darius might suddenly appear before them. Then his eyes were drawn inexorably back to the sword in the Tsar’s hand. It was the same blade the intruder, Godrin, had tried to wield. Merely touching it had crystallised the man. It couldn’t be, and yet…

  “But the God of Light…where?”

  “Here.” The Tsar smirked, gesturing to the sword. “That was Calybe’s mistake. He thought we could only find peace by bringing back the Gods. But it was quite the opposite.”

  “But the Gods–” Quinn began.

  “Were parasites,” the Tsar interrupted, “using their powers to manipulate us, to rule us. They were no different from any other Magicker who has sought to rule us throughout the centuries. No, there is only one way to buy peace—by wiping every last trace of magic from our world. I knew I could do it, if only I could recreate the Sword of Light. So when the God of Light possessed Calybe, I was ready. Darius barely had a chance to breathe fresh air, before I plunged my sword between his shoulders, and used the spells I had perfected through the years to send his foul spirit screaming into the blade.”

  “Then…that truly is…the Sword of Light?”

  “Yes.” The Tsar smiled faintly. “But though I have spent decades studying its power, still I have failed to achieve my goal.”

  His shoulders slumped, and he sank to the bottom step with a soft thud. In that moment, Quinn had never seen the Tsar look so mortal. His knees beginning to ache, he sat up slowly, sensing there was more behind the man’s words. When he spoke, he picked his words carefully, still half-afraid of incurring his ruler’s wrath.

  “But…?”

  The Tsar did not respond. Then he started to laugh, softly at first but quickly growing louder, until it seemed the walls themselves were trembling. Quinn shrank back as the Tsar stood suddenly.

  “My children have abandoned me, betrayed everything I stand for. I can no longer ignore their transgressions. For years I searched for another way. With Eric, perhaps it would have been possible. But now I am left with no choice.” He looked at Quinn, his eyes aglow. “Bring me my children, Stalker. They are the key to all this. Willingly or not, they will serve me in my final purpose.”

  For a second, Quinn hesitated, thinking of the girl he’d helped raise, who he’d taught and trained and spent long nights entwined with. Then he remembered how she’d used her magic against him, how she had betrayed him again and again. And he knew that he too could no longer ignore the truth. The Alana he yearned for was lost to him.

  He bowed his head. “It shall be as you command, sir.”

  The adventure continues with ‘Dawn of War’ – due late 2018. Signup below and be the first to read the epic conclusion…

  www.aaronhodges.co.nz/legend-of-the-gods-book-three/

  Note from the Author

  Wow, okay, that was…the hardest story I’ve written yet. Between the demon possession and Alana’s split personality, I always knew it was going to be a challenge, but I’ve really poured far more time into this book than I was expecting. Still, I hope the result was worth it, and you managed to understand everything that was going on! If you did have any questions, rememb
er you can always email me at author@aaronhodges.co.nz. But hopefully you understood everything.

  Oh, and if you were interested in some of the influences that went into this book, during its construction I travelled through much of Eastern Europe – including Prague and Budapest – all the way to the amazing land that is today known as Turkey (but which was once the Ottoman and Persian Empires!). If you look hard enough, you’re bound to see inspirations from many of these wonderful places