Champion of the Gods Box Set

by Andrew Q. Gordon

  As part of negotiating an alliance, Farrell offered to create a protective shield around Belsport, using skills he’d developed working on Haven’s defenses. No sooner was the shield in place than Meglar, alerted by the death of his wizard spies, attacked. After fierce fighting, Farrell was able to repulse Meglar but was injured and rescued by his peregrine brothers. Farrell returned to Haven to recover, vowing that those lost opposing Meglar would not have died in vain.

  Chapter One

  “WHY DON’T you go find Kerstand and go for a ride?” Miceral pulled a dark blue tunic over his head.

  Farrell liked the color, but the shirt prevented him from watching the muscles on Miceral’s torso ripple as he moved. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

  “No, I’m trying to help you find your way back to your old self.” Moving closer, he massaged the top of Farrell’s shoulders. “Ever since we returned from Belsport, you’ve been sullen and you keep to our apartment. Three weeks is long enough.”

  “I’m not sullen.” He needed time to go over all the decisions that had led up to his failure. Meglar shouldn’t have been allowed to get inside Belsport, and Farrell should have stopped him.

  “You don’t get to decide that.” Miceral scooped him off the end of the bed. “I’m the only objective party here, and I say it’s time to break out of your funk.”

  Farrell’s bare feet touched the cool stone. “How can I take Kerstand riding with me? His horse can’t keep up with Nerti.”

  “Nordric has agreed to bear the Prince of Honal,” Nerti said.

  His eyes narrowed as he realized what happened. “You enlisted Nerti in your scheme?”

  Miceral’s face lost its playful twinkle. “I’m worried. You took Ostert’s death very hard. We all mourn his loss, but it’s an unavoidable aspect of war.”

  “I know what happens in war.” Hearing the unwanted snarl in his voice, he let out a loud breath. “Ral, I’m sorry. Each time I lose someone close, it reinforces the magnitude of my failure to kill Meglar.”

  He laid a hand on Farrell’s cheek, rubbing gently with his callused thumb. “We’ve talked about this before—you’re not to blame.”

  “No and yes.” Placing his hand over his partner’s, Farrell closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The hint of chamomile soap mixed with Miceral’s scent always calmed him. “I understand I wasn’t ready, but it will always haunt me. Every death, especially someone I’m close to, makes me wonder if I could’ve done something more.”

  “Even if you could, it wouldn’t have changed anything.” Miceral pulled them closer together and kissed Farrell softly. “Learn from the past, but don’t dwell on it.”

  Farrell leaned in for another kiss. When he pulled back, Miceral spun him around and swatted him on the butt. “Now go collect Kerstand and go for a run.”

  “Yes, m’lord.” He did his best to give a foppish bow. “Anything to please the royal concubine.”

  Miceral raised an eyebrow suggestively. “Anything?”

  “Um . . .” His heart rate jumped as he stopped midturn. “Don’t you have to meet Horgon for the morning ‘complaint’ session?”

  “Well . . .” Miceral glanced at the clock and then smirked. “Father can wait a bit. I don’t want to be accused of failing in my duties as husband to the prince.”

  “THAT WAS the most amazing thing!” Prince Kerstand of Honal’s windblown hair and red face did nothing to diminish his enthusiasm. “I felt more secure than if I’d been in my saddle on an easy ride.”

  “It’s a feeling I never tire of, no matter how often I ride with Nerti.” They stopped at the foothills of the mountains that formed the southern boundary of the Plains of Gharaha. Scanning the area, Farrell felt a bit of his improved mood evaporate under the press of responsibility. “You three may keep running if you like. I need to check on something here.”

  Kerstand turned his gaze north and toward the vast expanse of open ground. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t be much of a companion if I leave you alone.”

  “Prince of Honal.” Nerti’s testy voice made Farrell swallow a laugh. “Do you not see me here?”

  “Well, yes, but . . .” The younger prince shot Farrell a pleading glance.

  “Since you see me, you must be implying I do not count or else you would not have suggested that without your presence, Prince Farrell would be alone.” The unicorn queen inched forward, her horn aimed at Kerstand’s groin.

  “No!” Kerstand’s hands searched Nordric’s neck, trying to move the stationary unicorn beneath him. “Your Majesty, I would never . . . I mean, I never meant to suggest you were nobody. Never. What I meant to imply was Farrell . . .”

  Laughing now, Farrell gently rubbed Nerti, keeping his eyes on his friend. “Do you really want to debate this, or do you want to ask Nordric to start running? He can’t outrun Nerti, but I’ll do my best to keep her with me if you go now.”

  “Run off,” Farrell told Nordric, hoping to spare his friend more discomfort. As the pair raced away, he chuckled again. “Do you realize how intimidating you are when you’re displeased?”

  “Of course, child.” He heard the hint of laughter in her tone. “Nordric has already explained to him I am not really upset. He has taken far too much pleasure in teasing you when Miceral is around. Now he knows you are never alone, even when I’m not physically there.”

  She did that for him? Not that he needed help, but she’d certainly put Kers back on his heels.

  “Did I do something to upset you?” Nerti’s question broke his introspection.

  “Upset me? Why would you ask that?”

  “You never responded after you learned what I did.”

  Farrell leaned forward to hug her neck. “No, my queen, I’m not upset, just surprised. You are usually so serious with others. Who knew you had such a playful side.”

  “There are many things about me you do not know.”

  “No truer words have I heard than those.” She couldn’t see the playful grin on his face. “But I’m happy for the company.”

  Farrell turned his focus to the spells he and others had laid onto Gharaha. Here at the edges, farthest from the Sources, the spells would degrade first. He dismounted and placed his left hand on the ground. Power tickled his palm as he touched the different magics that protected Haven.

  Nowhere in Heminaltose’s vast library had he found any evidence of this much high magic in one place. The concealment spells gave him the most concern. He pushed past them to check the integrity of the other spells vital to Haven’s survival. Covering one spell with another frequently caused interference to such a degree that the underlying magic failed entirely. If that happened, he’d need to find a solution—fast.

  He poked and prodded at his work, looking for any sign of deterioration, any hint of discord among the various magics just below the surface. Finally, he stood up.

  “I told them it would work.”

  “Do you address me?” Nerti’s voice reminded him he was not alone. “If so, I do not understand the context of your statement.”

  “My apologies, Nerti. I’ve developed the bad habit of talking to myself while I’ve been out here working. Erstad and Wesfazial argued that a cloaking spell of this magnitude would degrade the spells it was meant to conceal. I tried to tell them I figured out a way, but they didn’t believe me. Now I can show them that I was right.”

  “Perhaps if you showed a bit more humility when you are right, they might accept it better.”

  Farrell laughed as he mounted. “I’ll try, but I fear I have been in your presence too long, my queen.”

  “If that were true, you would be far more modest than you are today.”

  Nerti’s playful banter and the condition of the spells left him buoyant on the brisk midwinter day. Feeling more like himself, he knew he needed to make things up to Miceral. Looking for Kerstand, he spotted Nordric at the far end of the plains, running as if he sought to outpace the cold wind whipping around the valley. Hopefully his friend
wouldn’t mind going back.

  “No matter how long you allow him to ride, it won’t be enough.” Nerti started to walk slowly toward the still-open Door.

  Remembering the times he’d ridden Nerti when they ran for the sake of running, Farrell smiled as he watched Kerstand. “I understand the feeling.”

  “I shall tell Nordric to meet us by the Door.”

  A few moments later, Nordric executed a gradual looping turn to reverse direction and raced toward his mother. Despite how fast Nordric ran, Nerti would still be there first.

  Farrell used the ride back to continue his examination of Haven’s defenses. He’d started to follow a line of energy back to the Source when his mind brushed against something that felt . . . it felt wrong. An instant later, it disappeared. After several attempts turned up nothing, he let it go.

  “Is something wrong?”

  Nerti’s question forced him to put what he felt into words. “I don’t really know. For an instant I thought I felt something wrong, but it vanished before I could isolate it. Perhaps I just imagined it.”

  Nerti stopped walking but didn’t answer. Farrell used the silence to try again, with no better success.

  “I sense nothing.” She started to run again. “But as you said, it vanished when you searched closer. Keep alert should you feel it again.”

  Had he imagined it? Possibly, but it felt real enough. Then again, if Nerti didn’t sense anything, it might have been just an echo of something from somewhere else. He let it go when he saw Nordric running hard for them.

  “Gods of Nendor, that is amazing.” Kerstand’s smile proved infectious. “Riding that fast and without a saddle.”

  “Sorry it wasn’t a good outing, I’ll try to do better next time.”

  Kerstand shook his head. “We all had such hopes that spending time with Miceral would improve your sense of humor.”

  Nerti snorted, draining the smirk from Kerstand’s face. Despite his best effort, Farrell couldn’t stifle a laugh.

  “It appears not everyone shares your opinion that you possess the superior wit.” When his friend sputtered for a response, Farrell reached over and clapped him on the shoulder. “But I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. I value our friendship, even if you don’t laugh at my jokes.”

  STEPPING THROUGH the Door into his bedroom, Farrell scanned the suite to be certain Lisle had finished and left.

  “Hey, Ral. If you’re not doing anything too pressing, can you break away for the rest of the day and meet me at our rooms?”

  “Is anything wrong?” The concern in Miceral’s voice made Farrell feel guilty. His sullen mood had Miceral on edge.

  “No, just feeling a bit needy today. Something time with my favorite person will easily fix.”

  Farrell felt Miceral’s mental laugh. “The calendar is light. I’ll tell Father I’m spending the day with you and be home soon.”

  Chapter Two

  “DID YOU know there are permanent open Doors throughout Haven?” Farrell asked his partner as they walked down an empty corridor. Miceral carried the food they’d picked up from the kitchen.

  “What does that mean?”

  “I’ll take that as a no.” Farrell chuckled. “Have you never wondered how it’s possible to walk from either side of the mountain to our room in less than an hour?”

  Coming to an abrupt halt, Miceral stared blankly at him for a moment. “Amazing. It’s so obvious, but until now, I never made the connection.”

  “Few people do. There’s no point of reference underground, so it’s hard to gauge distance.”

  Squeezing Farrell’s hand, Miceral began walking again. “What prompted that question?”

  “Kerstand asked about it on the way to meet Nerti and Nordric.” Farrell pulled them to a stop and pointed to a spot on the wall. “See here? This is the Door for this section. The energy lines are embedded in the walls. But if you look closely, you’ll notice the rock on this side is not a perfect match to the rock on the other side.”

  Miceral looked where Farrell indicated. “By Lenore, there is a difference. It’s plain as day when you know where to look. Why did you build Haven like that? Wouldn’t it have been easier to just build as you go?”

  “There were several reasons. First was ease of travel. The eastern and western gates are more than a full day’s walk apart. And that means walking fast, night and day. By employing a Door, there was no need to open a tunnel the entire way.”

  Miceral nodded. “Sounds logical.”

  “So glad you approve.” Farrell rolled his eyes dramatically, drawing a mock glare. “The other major reason was space. After the survivors from Endor arrived, Erstad and I discussed the possibility that refugees from the other kingdoms would likely need sanctuary at some point. It was impossible to estimate how much space we would need, so we left unused space in between each new enclave in case we needed to expand one or more.”

  Farrell watched for a reaction as they passed another portal. Nothing.

  “There are also areas that can’t be used without expending a great deal of magic to alter the rock. Other places contained mineral deposits that we wanted to be able to mine. We had to work around all those things when creating new living space.”

  “All that makes sense, but why keep the Doors’ existence a secret?”

  “We didn’t hide them to keep them secret. They were hidden to prevent injuries.” Farrell noticed Miceral look at their linked hands. “Exactly. The damage to my hands was through strong shielding. Imagine if someone with no shielding touched an energy line.”

  “I’d rather not after seeing the raw meat they turned your hands into.”

  Somehow they returned to that day Farrell wanted to forget. Despite the urge to withdraw into his thoughts, he pushed ahead. “The hardest part was opening a Door in what is essentially a nondescript stone corridor. It took many frustrating months before Erstad came up with the current system. It’s a bit technical, so I won’t bore you with the details.”

  “You can tell me. I like listening to you talk about magic.”

  “Why?” He scanned Miceral’s face looking for some hint of sarcasm.

  “Because you get so excited when you try to explain something clever.” Miceral’s smile made Farrell blush. “And you’re good, very good, at magic, and you enjoy talking about it.”

  “Hopefully there are other things I’m good at you’d rather discuss.”

  Raising an eyebrow, Miceral leered at him. “Those things I’d rather do together in private.”

  “Lecherous old man.” Farrell moved closer for a kiss. “But I like your thinking.”

  Laughing, Miceral brought Farrell’s hand to his lips. “Figured you would.”

  Farrell decided to change topics. “Here’s something not widely known. Heminaltose didn’t create Haven.”

  “Really?”

  Farrell noted the dust kick up as they walked down the rarely used corridor. “The Great Hall was already here, albeit smaller than its present size, but Heminaltose built most of what we consider the main complex.”

  “Who built the Great Hall, then?”

  “Dwarves.”

  “Dwarves?” Miceral’s expression surprised Farrell.

  “You couldn’t tell? I mean, who else builds doors like the eastern gate?”

  “Right, but . . .” Miceral craned his neck, checking out the tunnel again. “There hasn’t been a dwarf spotted in the Seven Kingdoms in centuries.”

  “Millennia, actually.” Farrell tried not to smile. “These tunnels we’re in right now are at least five thousand years old.”

  “Does any of this have to do with where we’re going?”

  Now he couldn’t hold back a grin. “Maybe.”

  Miceral laughed. “Maybe? That’s all I get?”

  “Well, it is privileged information, but as concubine to the Lord of Haven, I suppose you’re trustworthy enough.” He paused as Miceral’s deep, loud laugh that echoed off the tunnels. “For years after Heminaltose dis
covered this place, he and his students catalogued and charted everything they found.”

  They turned a corner and came upon a dead end. Farrell touched a stone in front of him, and the wall vanished in a flutter of light. “This marks the southern boundary of Haven. Heminaltose closed it to almost everyone to preserve what’s south of here.”

  He summoned dozens of globes of wizard’s light and sent them into the pitch-black corridor. “These tunnels are miles long. Master Heminaltose created permanent Doors at various intervals to help with travel and exploration.”

  After they walked a few paces, Farrell pointed back to where Haven ended. A statue of Honorus stood to the left and one of Lenore on the right. “With this spot firmly in his mind, he would open a Door to this location, then bind it to make it permanent. If you would like to see what permanent Doors look like dormant, give me your hand and you can look through my eyes.”

  Miceral hesitated “You know how much I dislike mind magic.”

  “I know, but the amulet already gives you the power to enter my mind. All you need do is concentrate on me as you would when we speak mind to mind. Once you have a link to me, focus on looking through the link.”

  “I can do this anytime I wish?”

  “Anytime I don’t resist.” He wiggled his eyebrows for emphasis. “Even the smallest resistance can thwart all but the strongest minds. But since I won’t be resisting, you’ll have no problem.”

  “It’s that easy for you?”

  Farrell cocked his head to the right. “What’s that easy?”

  “Trusting me. You’re not worried about what I might do when inside your mind?”

  He shook his head and looked down. “No, I’m not. I couldn’t be with you like I am if I doubted you. I thought you knew that.”

  Miceral reached out and tilted Farrell’s chin up. “I’m sorry. I do know how much you trust me. Sometimes I get so caught up in my dislike of someone else in my head that I forget the someone is you.”

  “I know.” Farrell inched closer and pressed their lips together. “Forget I asked and let’s keep going. I think you’ll really like what’s ahead.”