He took another breath, peeked back at Miceral, who gave him a salute with two fingers, and looked forward. Let’s do this.
With a quick flick, he pulled his staff from his back. The ends of the staff matched the color of the shield he extended in front of him. Turning the staff slowly side to side, Farrell watched the intensity of the shield flicker at the edges. Pulling the staff toward him, he moved it faster, and the wall buckled inward. He stopped moving the staff, and energy drained into the center. When the ends looked thin and flimsy, he sucked the remaining power into the middle and thrust his arm and the staff forward.
“Now!”
Instantly, the group jumped toward the bright center. As if pushed by Nerti, the energy shot forward, cutting a deep swath through their enemy. Shaken by the assault, those left standing gave way before the charging mass of red energy unicorns.
Klissmor ran just behind Nerti as the wedge tore through the few standing Chamdon in their way.
“Nerti, tell Klissmor I need to get to the back of the formation.”
Floating over her, he slowly drifted back until he felt Miceral grab his shirt. “Straight to the gate, Nerti. I’ll be just a moment.” Miceral hoisted him onto Klissmor, facing forward.
“I need to be sitting with my back to yours to work my magic.” He maintained the levitation spell until he faced the rear of the group.
Klissmor slowed his pace, causing them to drift behind the swift-moving peregrine. Farrell pulled a two-foot-long ivory staff from his pocket. With a few words, it flared to life. Before he could deploy it, Nerti’s voice appeared in his mind.
“Farrell, wizards have erected a powerful barrier.”
“I’ll be right there.” Holding the glowing rod at arm’s length in front of him, he opened his hand. The staff kept its elevation but drifted away several feet. Staring at the staff, he completed the spell. A blaze of fire eight feet high and twenty feet wide erupted from the ivory. It maintained its distance as the company charged toward Northhelm. “I’m done here. Take me back to Nerti.”
Klissmor increased speed, moving just behind his mate. Levitating off Klissmor, Farrell reached out for Nerti. Instead of sitting, he folded his legs under him and magically linked himself to the unicorn. He looked back at Miceral, giving him a wink and a smile before facing forward.
His wizard sight immediately found the threat. About seven hundred yards ahead, a score of wizards banded together, ten yards in front of a shield wall that radiated from inside the mountain. They had created a new barrier that would keep Nerti from reaching the gate. After a quick assessment of the shield’s strength, he decided on a plan using what weapons he had left.
Pointing his staff at the spot in the wall he estimated they would cross, he fired a stream of blue wizard’s fire at the barrier. Nine more lines joined his. All ten streams joined just before striking the wall. Farrell locked the energy copies into maintaining the assault, then stowed his staff.
When the enemy returned fire as he had hoped, he smiled. Focusing power from his right hand into his left, he created a multicolored sphere of swirling energy. He raised his left hand into the air, moving the sphere above and to the left of his head. Casting a second spell, he diverted the enemy attacks into the swirling globe in his left hand. He removed his hand, leaving the ball suspended directly above him. As more energy struck the ball, it expanded, getting brighter in the process.
Placing his hands in front of him, shoulder-width apart, he created a second multicolored sphere. He kept it hovering between his hands, siphoning energy from the globe overhead into it. Despite the influx of power, he refused to let the new globe expand. The pressure of containing that much force in a small space caused his hands and arms to shake. As he struggled to keep control, the energy whirled violently inside the globe.
Eventually, the enemy stopped firing. Too late they recognized their mistake.
“Farrell, we draw near.” Nerti’s voice held a note of urgency.
“If we collide with that wall, I am not sure we will penetrate it.”
“I’m working on it, Nerti,” he said tersely. “I’m working on it.”
Draining the first globe, he added more power from his own stores. By now, the energy raged inside its container, pulsing brighter and brighter. His entire body shook as he fought to maintain control. He never looked away from the ball, not even to check on the target.
Finally, he let the pressure force his hands apart. The sphere, now glowing white, skipped along the streams of energy from the escorts. As he had hoped, the enemy wizards appeared too absorbed defending against the steady attack to notice what he had been doing.
The globe covered the few remaining yards in a split second. When it struck, the ball detonated on contact, shattering the barrier in a brilliant burst of light. Force met force in a violent explosion, creating a shock wave in all directions.
Riding directly into the maelstrom, the wave struck the energy escorts protecting the small company. The images shielding the group shimmered twice, then disappeared with a flash of light. A grunt escaped Farrell’s lips when his spell dissolved.
The impact and explosion seared everything unshielded in its path, leaving only the charred remains of their enemy. A few wizards survived the shield being blown apart, but they died when the shock wave ricocheted off the shield defending Northhelm.
Left unprotected, Nerti increased their pace. Farrell dropped his legs to resume his seat on her back, but still disoriented, he misjudged the distance between the two. He slid down but a powerful hand grabbed him before he hit the ground.
Gathered in a pair of arms, he heard Miceral say, “Relax, Farrell, I have you.”
He managed a wan smile. “Thanks.”
The strong arms continued to encircle him as they galloped toward their destination. Even through his grogginess, he felt a tingle of excitement from the contact.
“Feeling better, little wizard?” He could almost hear the smile on Miceral’s face.
“The sudden rush of energy in and out of me caused me some disorientation.” He stammered to cover his embarrassment. “The shock wave was unexpectedly strong, and when it cancelled the spells that created our escort, that power snapped back into me, giving me quite a jolt.” Squirming, he felt Miceral tighten his grip. Rather than resist, he settled back against the armored chest. “I suppose this makes us square. I saved you from the horde of Chamdon; you saved me from being trampled to death. I ought not overestimate my strengths again.”
“From my perspective, you can overestimate whenever you like, so long as I can be there to catch you.”
Unsure how to react to this blatant flirtation, he sought refuge in the familiar. “I’d better shield us before we’re attacked again.”
“No need,” Miceral said. “That little explosion of yours caused devastation on a massive scale. There isn’t an enemy soldier standing within five hundred yards of us. We are just about to . . .” Farrell felt the tingle of passing through a friendly shield. “. . . enter into our own protective area.”
“Stop!” Farrell shouted. “Let me off!”
Chapter Four
KLISSMOR STOPPED suddenly and Nerti did, too. Everyone behind them swerved to keep their distance. Farrell gave no explanation. He leapt down and turned back the way they’d come.
He raised both hands, and an enormous energy bowl formed over his head. A sudden blast of sickly black-and-red energy ripped through Northhelm’s shield, striking the protective dome and forcing him to his knees. A grunt slipped out of his mouth at the same time Miceral jumped off Klissmor.
“Farrell!”
Raising a hand, Farrell pointed at Miceral. “No! Stay back.” He needed to complete this. He’d been fortunate that the hastily wrought shield held the last attack.
When Miceral continued to close in, Farrell muttered under his breath and threw a barrier between them. He’d apologize later. Right now he needed to focus on defending everyone—including himself.
&n
bsp; Another attack ripped through the sky. He struggled to keep on his feet as he hurried to close the circle of energy. Once the ends merged, he launched the new weapon back along the path Meglar’s assault had traveled. Forming a second shield, he anxiously peered skyward. A flash of light on the far horizon brought the hint of a smile to his face. It didn’t answer their problems, but it helped. Without releasing his shield, he engaged his wizard’s sight, looking in the direction where the attacks originated. Seeing nothing, he relaxed.
The barrier dissolved between Miceral and him.
“What was that?”
“What happened?”
“What did you do?”
Questions darted at him from all sides. He waved a hand, dismissing them. He didn’t have time for an inquisition. Then his gaze landed on Miceral, a small frown cutting between the man’s brows, and the urge to explain made Farrell open his mouth. But a slight rumble beneath them had him shutting it again and searching the ground.
His hand went to his endless pocket. After checking the distance to the entrance, the position of the rocks, and the contour of the ground, he settled on a suitable spot. He removed an oddly grooved stick with a large mushroom-like head, half the length of his staff. It looked to be made from a live tree branch, with sprigs of green along the stem.
Using both hands and all his weight, he firmly embedded the stick into the rocky ground.
He stepped back, checking his distance. In one fluid motion, he grabbed his staff in both hands and swung it directly at the top of the stick. When the staff’s metal knob struck the wooden top, sparks flew, and the stick sank farther into the ground, leaving only its wide head visible. A sudden burst of energy pulsed outward. When the flash subsided, a new shield replaced the one Meglar destroyed. Much better. He turned and walked back to the others.
“That ought to give us enough time to get everyone to safety.”
Miceral fell in beside him. A small grin replaced the frown. Farrell liked the way the man’s cheek quirked with the smile.
“Next time you could warn us we’re under attack.” Miceral’s deep voice sent a shiver through him
“There really wasn’t time for an explanation.” Reaching back, he returned his staff to its place.
Then, catching Miceral’s eye, Farrell gave him a shy wink before placing a hand on Nerti. Almost immediately he snatched his hand back. “Honorus help us!”
Moving so he could look her in the eye, he shook his head. “You’re exhausted beyond your limits.”
Nerti trembled slightly and tried to pull away. Despite his lack of familiarity with unicorns, he grasped her head with both hands and pressed his forehead to hers, just below her horn. He said nothing, and Nerti ceased struggling. For a brief moment, a light blue aura engulfed the pair. When it vanished, he released her and stepped back.
Nerti no longer trembled. He smiled and turned toward the distant gate. “Come, we should get inside. When Meglar recovers from the shock of having his attack shoved down his throat, he’ll probe this area to find out what happened.”
Before he advanced three steps, Grohl barred his way.
“What do you think you are doing, silly wizard?”
“Trying to get inside.” Checking around him, he found everyone staring at their exchange. “What are you doing?”
Grohl didn’t move. “And you expect us to let you walk?”
“Nerti can barely make it back herself, let alone carry me, and though magically weary, I am not—”
A low, deep growl forced him to step back. A hand grabbed the back of his shirt, yanking him upward. What the—? He landed in front of Miceral. The man’s arms snaked around his waist, pulling him closer. Torn between annoyed, embarrassed, and thrilled at the closeness, he opted for thrilled.
“You could have warned me you were going to do that.” He picked at a loose thread on his shirt. “You almost ripped my tunic off!”
A laugh rumbled from behind him, causing another shiver. Miceral leaned forward, his lips so close Farrell could feel the warmth of his breath. “When I want to take off your shirt, believe me, I’ll do it somewhere more private than this.”
Klissmor jogged easily toward the now open gate. Acutely aware of how they moved together, he let out a nervous breath. Good thing the others were well ahead. He hadn’t been this embarrassed in years.
“Farrell, are you blushing?” Miceral twisted to his left, and Farrell turned the other way. Not to be deterred, Miceral twisted again. “Your neck is turning red.”
“Fine.” He felt his cheeks warming even more. “Yes, I’m blushing. Your attention, while welcome, is also uncomfortable. I’m not sure what to say or do in response.”
Miceral’s grip seemed to slacken, but he didn’t say anything.
“You are supposed to kiss him, Wizard.” Nerti’s voice bubbled with amusement. “That’s what he wants.”
Honorus help him, could this moment be any more mortifying? Now Nerti was giving him advice? And how did she know Miceral felt that way? This mind-sharing thing was going to be a pain. “I heard that,” she said. “I’m just trying to help you.” He laughed and shook his head.
“I missed something, didn’t I?” Miceral said.
Annoyed at the unwanted attention, he tossed caution aside. “Nerti said I ought to kiss you.”
Miceral pulled him closer again. “A wonderful suggestion, I’d say.”
Farrell’s blood rushed someplace other than his face. Don’t notice, don’t notice. Miceral pressed a fraction closer; his warm breath tickled the nape of Farrell’s neck again. He felt Miceral having the same “problem” and smothered a smile. Maybe this wasn’t so bad. He relaxed into Miceral’s embrace a little more.
Nerti’s presence entered his mind. “Don’t fear him. He means you no harm. Trust that Klissmor and I would know, and I would not allow him to hurt you.”
He covered Miceral’s arm with his own and interlaced their fingers. From behind, he could almost feel Miceral beaming.
People milled about the entrance, waiting for their arrival. Seeing the gathering crowd, he tensed. Miceral’s grip tightened when he tried to remove his hand.
“Please don’t go shy on me again. It took a great deal of effort to get you to even let me touch you. No one will care. After what you just did, you’re going to be revered by all. It isn’t every day someone is chosen by the Queen Nerti to be her rider, saves the life of a peregrine prince, and rescues a company of Muchari.”
“So everyone in your party is important?” he asked, half in jest.
“Not everyone.” Miceral’s voice lacked any hint of humor. “My companions are my escort.”
“Your new friend is the son of Horgon, leader of the Muchari.”
“Great.” Meant only for Nerti, he said it out loud without thinking. Despite the sarcastic tone, he felt the arm around him tighten for a momentary hug.
When they finally came to a stop, an older man walked over. Sparing him the barest of glances, the man locked eyes with Miceral. “So, who is this you come riding home with, holding him like your mate? It is unfathomable to me that you waited all these years for some silly, soft human.”
Miceral tensed behind him. Farrell tried to get free of Miceral’s grasp, but the arm didn’t budge. “It is disappointing that my father is the only one who cannot accept what Lenore Herself has set for me. Farrell has been chosen by Nerti, who outranks even you in this community.”
“First you leave against my direct orders, and then you bring home”—the man motioned with his left arm toward Farrell—“this.” Horgon glared at his son.
Using magic, Farrell broke free of Miceral’s hug and dismounted. Throwing both arms out to his sides, a shimmering wall of energy surrounded himself and Horgon. When several warriors drew weapons to strike the barrier, peregrines and unicorns interposed themselves around the wall.
He ignored everything going on outside his bubble. When Horgon made a move toward him, he froze the elder Muchari, lifting hi
m off the ground. Levitating himself, he stopped when he could look Horgon in the eyes.
“How dare you treat me like this? Who do you think you are to come to my home and use your cowardly arts on me?” Horgon screamed, trying to free himself from Farrell’s spell.
“Silence!” he yelled. “If not, I will silence you myself. I am Farrell, Prince of Haven, Chosen of Honorus and here at the request of Lenore. Other than Meglar, who is trying to destroy your people, I am the last grand master wizard in the Seven Kingdoms and your only hope of survival. If you wish to live, you will not speak to me in any tone other than one having all the respect due one of my station. I came here at the invitation of your goddess to assist you and your people. I did not fight through Meglar’s entire army to have some small-minded person degrade me.”
Horgon’s eyes burned with anger, but he kept quiet.
Farrell wanted to say more, but a tremendous boom shook the ground.
“That would be Meglar. You live because of this silly, soft human. So next time you open your mouth, keep in mind I can leave and let you deal with that on your own.”
He stepped down, turned away, and dissolved his shield with an absent wave of his hand. After he walked a few paces toward Miceral, he released his hold on Horgon, letting him fall to the ground.
Miceral walked over and took his hand. “Impressive, my fragile little wizard. Who knew there was so much spunk in one so shy?”
The smile on Miceral’s face helped quell Farrell’s anger. “I have a poor control of my temper at times and should not have assaulted him in his own house.”
“No, Father has had it coming for a while. The unicorns and peregrines do not approve of his refusal to accept Lenore’s plans for me. To them it smacks of heresy. It has created something of a rift, as you can see. It’s good for him to see that there are many who don’t care for his ways.”
Champion of the Gods Box Set Page 5