by Dante King
“Protection spells,” Yarina said. “They’re fortifying the defenses of the Institute.”
“Are those spells effective?” I asked. I was too far away to sense them.
“Depends on which ones they’re using,” Yarina replied. “None can completely preclude the possibility of infiltration. But still, they’re a necessary precaution.”
“We should get an airship back,” I said after a pause, turning away from the window and setting off down the corridor.
Yarina, Winnie, and I made our way to the grand staircase that descended in a dramatic spiral to the first floor. I saw no familiar faces there or anywhere further down toward the exit, and that was probably for the best. I wanted to get to the Spire before the skies darkened, probably within the hour.
We reached the Goldleaf in the docking station minutes before it was scheduled to make its descent back to the airship port at the base of the mountain.
There were a few more passengers than there had been on the way up. I caught the scent of two young modification mages, an older, more seasoned necromancer, and a tall, handsome elf with stark white hair and large silver eyes.
“We need to be careful,” Yarina said. “Barlin Cyntria is a man of immense power, not simply because of his position as archmage, but also because of his political influence. He has connections everywhere.”
“Your point?” Winnie asked.
“We need to be careful not to offend him.”
“I’m not bowing down to any mage,” Winnie said. “No matter how powerful he might be.”
“No one is asking you to bow to anyone,” Yarina bit. “I’m asking you to be smart. Now, I don’t like what he has done to the doom mages of Trysca any more than you do, but we need to convince him he can trust us. That’s the only way we can get him to share what he knows.”
“There are other ways to get him to spill his guts,” Winnie said, glancing at my axe.
I put my hand on Winnie’s shoulder and smiled. “One battle and suddenly you’ve developed a taste for violence?”
“You can take this Cyntria guy,” Winnie said. “I’ve seen you fight, you’re amazing.”
“Kurt is a natural fighter, yes,” Yarina said. “No one is disputing that. But he is new to this game, as are you. You would do well to heed my advice.”
“Yarina is right, Winnie. We have to be smart about this.”
“Fine. I just hate these fancy powerful types in their extravagant mansions and their perfumed clothes. They walk all over the little people and face no consequences for the atrocities they commit.”
Yarina didn’t look like she disagreed, but her tone was measured. “One battle at a time, Winnie.”
With that, she turned to the view below us. The Goldleaf was slowing down as it approached the airship station, and soon the three of us were back on firm ground and heading into the city. I could sense eyes on us as we entered the outskirts. We did look like a team on a mission, in our impressive armor and with weapons held securely by our sides.
Yarina was either oblivious or uncaring, but Winnie was openly enjoying the attention. She winked at quite a few men and laughed out loud when it sent a young man tumbling into a wheelbarrow carrying fresh manure.
I had to admit, my new armor was propelling my confidence to new heights. Qilzid was truly a master of his craft, and I reminded myself to thank him again when we returned.
When we entered the Grand Esplanade, finally the tapering twin peaks that flanked the Spire’s embellished tower showed themselves in all their magnificence. They rose above all the other buildings in Trysca, casting most of the city center in shadow with the sun approaching the horizon behind it.
“Say what you want about the people living up there,” Yarina said. “Their home is the most beautiful thing the city holds.”
I glanced at Winnie and saw the grudging acknowledgement in her eyes. I wondered if magic had been involved in the erection of the Spire. It seemed too intricate, too grand, and too beautiful not to have been raised by inspired magic.
“How are we doing this?” Winnie asked as we neared the end of the Grand Esplanade.
I turned to Yarina. “What do you think?”
She bit her lip. “Barlin Cyntria is a proud man. But he has always struck me as a just and reasonable one too. I think if we requested an audience with him, he would grant it.”
“You mean he’d descend from his golden throne room at the top his tower to honor us with his presence?” Winnie asked.
Yarina shot her a glare. “Why wouldn’t he agree to speak with us? I am a member of the city guard and an acolyte of Rymi. I’m sure, if nothing else, he would simply be curious.”
“Unless he has something to hide,” Winnie whispered.
Yarina and I exchanged a glance.
“Do you know something you’d like to share with us, Winnie?” I asked.
She pursed her lips. “I have heard things.”
Yarina sighed. “Are you going to pose us riddles? Or are you going to tell us what these rumors are?”
Winnie flashed a grin. “Say please.”
Yarina blinked, seemingly caught off guard. “Winnie—”
“Yarina,” Winnie interrupted her with a play-shocked singsong voice. “Say please. Manners are important.”
“Tell us what you’ve heard.” Yarina paused and rolled her eyes. “Please.”
Winnie’s face settled into a soft, satisfied smile. “I heard Barlin’s wife was sacrificed in a ritual. I also heard that he was the one doing the sacrificing.”
“I can’t believe I gave in for one of her jokes,” Yarina muttered.
“You don’t believe me?”
“And you do?” Yarina asked. “It sounds ridiculous.”
“I may not be as old as you are,” Winnie said, “but I’ve experienced enough in life to know that most people have secrets, dark ones too—things you could never imagine in a million years. I think Barlin and his daughter may have given themselves over to the Chaos Gods.”
“He’s an archmage of the Institute,” Yarina said blankly.
“What was that old saying?” Winnie said. “We used it a lot in my village…ah, yes—the fish stinks from the head. This Barlin guy is one of the big, important people at the Institute. The same Institute that has been infiltrated by corrupt magi. Put one and one together…”
Winnie was making some good points, but I was hesitant to give them real credence. We didn’t have any proof, and—perhaps this was the main reason—I couldn’t believe that of Lillian Cyntria. Or maybe I just didn’t want to believe it.
“I met the Archmage only this morning,” I told Winnie. “I met his daughter too. I didn’t sense corruption on either one of them.”
Winnie laughed and shook her head. “But did you sense power on them?”
“They were both incredibly powerful.”
“Powerful mages have historically been able to fool mage slayers. Just because you didn’t sense corruption, doesn’t mean there’s none to be found.”
“Well, I suppose we’ll find out soon enough,” I said as we approached the Spire.
The Spire was in the heart of Trysca, but it was set off from the buildings surrounding it. It could only be reached by a paved bridge, which led you to a wrought-iron gate of at least twenty feet high topped with prongs shaped like razor-sharp sword blades.
My hunter senses started to tingle as we stepped onto the bridge. I could sense magic…and not the good kind. Was it possible Winnie was right, were the rumors she had heard fueled by truth?
I slowed my pace slightly.
“What’s wrong?” Yarina asked, slowing down to stay abreast.
“I think we’re being followed. I can sense corrupt magic…the Spire is immersed in it.”
“I knew it!” Winnie said. “I knew it.” She looked around with an abrupt movement.
I touched Winnie’s shoulder. “He won’t show himself so easily.”
Yarina’s full lips were reduced to a
grim line. “What do we do?”
“We keep walking,” I said. “We’re not turning back now.”
The closer we got to the Spire, the more the surrounding air zinged with dark magic. A soft wind started to blow, and the evening sun was covered with a formless blanket of dirty white cloud. I wasn’t cowed, and I still felt a vague sense of disbelief. I had been so sure that Lillian was innocent in all this. I had looked into her bewitching blue eyes just that morning and had felt something stir inside me. Perhaps I had let myself be charmed by a pretty face, though a little earlier than Yarina suggested I might have. But there was still a possibility she had nothing to do with this. If corrupt mages could infiltrate the Institute, then it was possible they could infiltrate the Spire as well. Still, Archmage Cyntria’s connection to both places was a little too coincidental.
“Someone is following us,” I confirmed as the thick, clammy scent of corruption undoubtedly started to dominate the air. We had all but reached the tall, black gate.
There was no avoiding it any longer; the time for confrontation had come. I turned slowly, making sure not to flinch or rush; whoever the dark mage was, he needed to note my confidence. Just like I had given up on playing pretend, he had thrown smoke and mirrors overboard to face me. He was wearing dark trousers, a black tunic, and a long black cloak that billowed behind him as he slowly made his way to us.
He looked to be around my height, about six-three or six-four, and he had the heavy build and bulky walk of a man with innate physical strength. His eyes were dark, his nose slightly crooked, and his red-brown hair hung in long tufts around his shoulders.
“Visiting the Archmage, are you?” I asked.
The dark mage’s cold expression didn’t crack. “You are wasting your time. The Spire is ours.”
The dark throb I could feel around us was proof enough that he was telling the truth. But what kind of mage slayer would I be if I turned back now?
“Great,” I replied after a pause. “Then I will offer you my terms of surrender.”
“Terms of surrender?”
If he had expected fear or compliance from me, he had another thing coming. My hand twitched toward my axe, but I stopped it in its tracks. I could sense a fight coming, but I didn’t want to start it prematurely.
“Yes,” I said. “My terms are simple. Open the gates, let me pass, abandon your claim to the Spire—and I’ll let you live. A good deal, if you ask me. I’d take it if I were you.”
For a split second, the mage’s eyes narrowed, before his lips parted and a crescendoing laugh escaped them. “I reject your terms,” he finally said.
His magic was strong, it was aching to burst from him, I picked up on the frustrated little pulsations. It was still a mystery what form his attack would take.
I nodded curtly and pulled out my axe as Yarina to my left unsheathed her rapier. I stepped forward and Winnie came up behind me to my right, completing our usual formation.
“You call that a weapon?” he asked with a persistent lopsided grin. “I’ll show you what a true weapon looks like.”
I felt the thrust of the mage’s power, before a massive, gleaming scythe materialized in his hand. It was made of undiluted energy. It had all the corporeal qualities of steel, but it looked to be made of sunlight. I had no doubt it would burn if it made contact with our skin—if.
“Impressive, isn’t it? And it’s not the only weapon at my disposal.”
I sensed the sudden surge, but I wasn’t able to even warn Yarina and Winnie to take cover. I had been preparing myself for a duel, but he obviously had other plans. He was only interested in the thrill of complete, unchallenged annihilation. The spell exploded in a flutter of light just above our heads.
The effect was instantaneous. My movements became unbearably slow. Even moving my head took several precious seconds. It was a time-stop spell. I could sense Yarina’s panic and Winnie’s naked fear. They were as helpless as I was, but I had something they did not. The time stop was a strong spell and my Negation Aura was still not under my complete control, but I concentrated hard and willed my magic to do what was necessary to fight off the spell.
The dark mage of course had no idea who I was or what I was capable of. The smug expression on his face and his relaxed gait told me he thought he had already won. He swung his magic scythe, and I heard the melodic whoosh as it cut through the space between us. He was closing in, my body tensed with the effort I was putting into my Negation Aura.
“I must say,” the dark mage said, with a little chuckle. “You three have made my day very interesting. Now. Who shall I kill first?”
“I don’t like the look of you,” he said, looking at me through narrowed eyelids. “Maybe you should be the first to die.”
I heard a muffled scream from behind me; I was almost sure it had come from Yarina, but I couldn’t look back to see, it would take too long. The dark mage settled his gaze on Yarina, behind me to my left..
“Is he important to you, my dear? Don’t worry, I will kill him quickly. He won’t feel pain—at least, he won’t feel much pain.”
We were lucky he was wasting his time on his taunts. He didn’t notice, but his spell was weakening slowly around me under the sustained force of my Negation Aura. A few more seconds, and…
“And what do we have here?” the dark mage asked, as he circled around to Winnie. “I know you—you were one of Kalazar’s playthings. And yet here you are, standing next to a Paladin soldier and a human. What degradation..”
As he spoke, the last traces of his spell slid off me like water and my body lurched free. Thankfully, the dark mage was so fixated on Winnie that he didn’t notice the movement. I regained my position, pretending I was still under his spell. I was grateful my axe was in my hand. I could use the saved time when I decided to strike.
“You are a traitor,” the dark mage hissed at only a few feet from Winnie’s face. “You have betrayed us all, and for that—you will pay.”
I heard a whimper escape Winnie’s lips. My instinct was to turn and defend her, but I needed the element of surprise if we were going to win this fight. I needed the corrupt mage to be sufficiently distracted.
“Any last words?” he asked. “Oh, wait. I almost forgot that I don’t care.”
He raised his magical scythe, ready to decapitate, and I jumped at the chance. I twisted around and sent my axe whizzing through the air and toward his spine. It made contact, cutting through his clothes into his flesh before dropping to the ground. The mage grunted with pain as he dropped to his knees and the scythe vanished instantly, leaving behind a thin plume of mist that floated up and diluted into nothing. I leapt up to him in a second to knock him out with a knee to the back of his head, spinning him around with the force of the blow and swinging him down onto his back. I picked up my axe, walked up, and stood over him, my eyes boring into his.
“Your magic is strong,” I said. “But I’m stronger.”
The dark mage gritted his teeth as he tried to conjure up another time-stop spell. He still didn’t realize I could feel his magic coming and sidestep it with ease. He was weak from my attack and his spell was not as strong as the one that held Yarina and Winnie in place. I danced out of its way easily enough and swung the blunt end of the axe into his stomach.
He grunted again as his face drained of color.
“Any last words?” I asked.
He was foaming at the mouth, his lips and throat straining to respond. I was sure it would give him some measure of satisfaction to spit out a last insult, but he had just threatened me and tried to kill my friends; I wasn’t in a very charitable mood.
“Oh, wait,” I said pointedly. “Now I remember. I don’t care.”
I smashed my axe right into his face, the blade slicing it open down the center, crunching bone and sending nerves and blood splattering around. His body ceased all movement instantly and the spell he had cast on Yarina and Winnie shattered. They gasped and breathed heavily as they ran over to me in real time.<
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“Are you okay?” I asked, looking up and cracking my neck.
Yarina looked shaken but still in control of herself. Winnie looked like she was carved from stone.
I took a step toward her. “Winnie—”
Before I could say anything more, she burst into tears, her whole body shaking with the intensity of her relief. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her to my chest.
“Sshh,” I said. “You’re okay. You’re safe.”
She burrowed into me with large gulping sobs.
“Hey now, don’t cry. I’m your protector remember? I’m not going to let anyone hurt you—either one of you.”
Yarina smiled, and under the circumstances she didn’t seem to mind that I had my arms around Winnie. Soon after, Winnie’s sobs died down. She wiped her tears away slowly, seemingly glancing at the shiny traces of her moment of weakness with some disbelief, and looked up at me.
“You saved my life,” Winnie said. “Again.”
“You’re worth saving.”
I saw the spark of love and loyalty cement itself in her eyes. That moment, I became sure that Winnie would follow me for the rest of my days.
“Thank you,” she whispered into my chest. “You’re the first person to give a shit about my life.”
I leaned down and kissed her softly on the forehead. “As long as we stick together, we’ll be fine.”
“The Spire has been taken,” Yarina piped up. She was looking toward the spire. What should we do?”
“We continue with our plan,” I said firmly. “We can’t turn back now. Winnie—if you need to stay behind, Yarina and I will under—”
“No,” Winnie interrupted fiercely. “I am with you. Always.”
I kept eye contact with her for just a second. She clearly wouldn’t be budging.
“Then let’s go,” I said, gently letting go of Winnie.
I turned to the gate and walked the few steps we were removed from it. It open without a creak. Before walking through it, I looked back at Yarina and Winnie.