“You don’t need to agree with me. We both know I hate mornings.”
“But it’s not morning. It’s dinner hour.”
He turned toward his friend. “It’s morning somewhere in the world.”
Peter finally smiled and glanced over Farrell’s shoulder to where Miceral sat. “Does he always have to be right?”
“Usually, but I’ve learned it’s best to nod and agree with him when he gets petulant like this.”
Peter nodded twice. “Yes, Farrell, you’re right. It is morning somewhere.”
Shaking his head, Farrell ignored them and began to eat. Suddenly the food was more interesting than the conversation.
After they’d eaten, Farrell pulled out one of Kel’s books. Miceral watched intently, so rather than float over the floor, he sat on the cushion next to Nerti. Having read the book several times, he didn’t expect to learn anything new, but it didn’t hurt to check. He’d only read a few pages when Penelope showed up at their door.
“Grenda and Nordric decided to rest, so I left rather than disturb them,” she said.
“You don’t need to explain,” Miceral said. “You’re welcome to visit.”
“This really makes no sense.” Farrell looked up from the book and noticed Penelope. “Hello, when did you get here?”
Her sour expression nearly made him laugh. “You didn’t hear me knock?”
“If I had, I wouldn’t have asked when you arrived.” He closed the book and stood up. “I was reading, so I didn’t pay attention.”
Penelope sighed and shook her head. “What makes no sense?”
“Why the Heart? Of all the remaining Gifts, why send me to get the Heart of Seritia next?”
“When did we determine you’re here to get the Heart?” She glanced at the book in his hands. “Did you find out something new?”
“No, but doesn’t it seem obvious that’s what we’ll find here?”
“Nothing is clear where the Six are involved.” She flicked her wrist toward a chair, and it slid toward her. “Are you sure there is even a Gift here to be found?”
“Kel said another Gift awaited me here.” He shrugged. “I’m going to take him at his word.”
“His message said, ‘Another Gift awaits you in Agloth.’ Kel never said it would be the Heart.”
“It is.” He had no hard proof, but he knew Kel had left him Seritia’s Gift.
“Assume for the moment you’re correct. Why doesn’t it make sense to come for the Heart next?”
“How will it help me defeat Meglar?”
“Just because you cannot see the reason, doesn’t mean the Six don’t have one,” Nerti said. “Once it is in your possession, the Six’s motive might become clear.”
He turned toward Nerti. “I can accept that, but how much time and effort will it take to figure out how the Gifts can help me?”
“Why does that matter?” Penelope sounded exasperated. “It will take what it takes.”
“This is getting a bit far off the trade route,” Miceral said. “Why don’t we figure out what is here before we debate the value of specific Gifts?”
“We’ve nothing better to do.” Farrell shrugged. “I’m going to rest a day before I go look for whatever Kel left behind. What else—by the Six!”
“What?” Miceral shouted.
Farrell stood up, aware the others echoed Miceral’s word of surprise. “Vedric. We never warned Jolella about his plan to attack Agloth.”
He ignored the new outburst his explanation brought and summoned his staff. “How could we have forgotten to tell her?”
“Calm yourself, Little One.” Nerti’s words came with a soothing touch. “Klissmor is telling her now. He will ask the holy mother for an audience as soon as she can accommodate us.”
Gripping his staff, Farrell watched the others relax with the new information. In the scheme of things, the few hours lost wouldn’t adversely affect Agloth’s ability to defend itself.
“Still, we should have warned them when we arrived.”
“Agreed, but the important thing is Agloth will have ample time to mount a defense.”
Despite the logic of Nerti’s words, Farrell found he couldn’t relax. Agloth might be able to defend itself, but for centuries the world had thought Yar-del would never fall. There were no sureties when the gods warred with each other.
For the next few hours, Farrell stumbled in his attempts to work out a plan to find what Kel had hidden in Agloth. He’d start to work, only to let every little noise distract him. Twice he shut his book and decided to give up, but doing so made him more anxious, so he tried again.
Finally, Jolella sent a messenger with a written note. She planned to meet with her advisors in the morning and would see Farrell and his companions after lunch.
Farrell decided to go to sleep rather than stew over the apparent lack of urgency the high priestess assigned the issue. It didn’t matter that an attack wasn’t imminent; he wanted to deal with the problem right then, and waiting until the following afternoon frayed his nerves.
Sleep didn’t prove relaxing. During the ride there, he had collapsed into deep, dreamless sleep almost the moment his head hit the pillow. Although still tired, the nap earlier in the day had taken the edge off his exhaustion. His dreams returned, only now they had a dark edge.
The images swirled in a mass of unsettling bright and garish colors. Slowly a vast, grassy landscape formed out of the chaos. Treeless like the plains of Lourdria, the prairie was empty except for a lone person who came into focus. Only the man’s back was visible, but Farrell knew him. He was the embodiment of evil.
A jolt of fear seized his heart as the man turned toward him and he recognized the face. The Eye had shown him this person. Vedric’s face twisted into a sneer.
“Hello, brother,” he snarled. The face that stared at him was similar to his, yet different. Vedric lacked the softer features Farrell had inherited from his mother. The squarer jaw and sharper cheekbones made him look older than Farrell knew possible. “Nice to meet you.”
Farrell took a step back. He felt no kinship with the man across from him. They had nothing in common, yet they shared a bond so deep and personal, Farrell couldn’t deny it. “What do you want?”
“Scared, brother?” Vedric stepped closer. “You should be. I’m Father’s heir, not you. When he conquers the world, it is I who will rule at his side.”
“You are welcome to your place beside him, though it will be short-lived.” He reached over his shoulder and drew his staff. “Go home and tell Meglar I’m going to stop him.”
Vedric threw his head back and laughed. “Oh, that’s funny. You’re going to stop him? Ridiculous. You’re nothing compared to him. A pale shadow, weakened by having the blood of that bitch from Kel’s line in your veins. Go hide and you might survive long enough to beg for some scrap of life in Father’s new world.”
“I’ll never submit to him. Never!” He broke his staff in half and swung the ends around before taking a defensive position.
A new howl of laughter greeted his act of defiance. “Your words are as weak as your skills. Maybe your powers impress the silly little wizards who’ve escaped Father’s reach thus far, but I’ve seen the face of greatness, and you’re nothing compared to him.”
“Bold words, little brother. But I’ve stood up to him many times, and I’m still here.” The bravado he tried to project did little to mask his internal doubts. Farrell repositioned his staff and said, “Either leave or prepare to be beaten.”
Vedric eyed him carefully. When he finished his assessment, he shrugged and spread his legs. “As you wish.”
He extended his hand, and a long, black, wooden staff similar to Farrell’s appeared with a soft pop. Red metal capped the ends of the rod, and a blackish-red nimbus outlined the top as he planted it on the ground. A blast of sickly energy shot from Vedric’s staff and struck Farrell’s defenses.
The powerful strike washed away against his shields, but something abou
t the attack irritated Farrell. Like thousands of stinging insects, the energy prickled his skin.
“You would do well to let me kill you quickly.” Vedric struck again. “Because if you survive, I plan to keep you alive long enough for you to watch all those you love and care about die by my hand.”
His anger boiled over in an instant, and pointing his staffs at his brother, a defiant shout ripped from his throat. The smile drained from Vedric’s lips, and he held his staff across his body. Farrell’s counterattack pushed Vedric back.
As he pounded on his brother’s shields, the bluish hue to his own energy grew darker. Ignoring everything but his enemy, Farrell moved closer and battered the invisible energy protecting Vedric with his staffs. With each blow, his scream grew louder. The look of fear on Vedric’s face and his ragged breathing only fueled Farrell’s rage.
Finally he delivered an overhand assault that shattered his brother’s defense. Gasping for air and showing the effects of Farrell’s assaults, Vedric raised his shaking hand. “Brother, mercy, please.”
Despite his plea, Vedric had lost none of his air of superiority. That arrogance, coupled with the residual stings from the fight and the threat against his loved ones, sent Farrell into a fury that reason couldn’t contain.
Screaming again, he noticed his energy had turned nearly black, but it didn’t matter. Vedric needed to die. His shout formed into a word, and he yelled it as loud as he could as he brought his staff down toward his unprotected brother.
“Die!”
Before the blow struck, he heard someone call his name. “Farrell!”
Opening his eyes, Farrell found himself in bed. Vedric and the fight had vanished, and Miceral hovered over him, his hand on Farrell’s shoulder.
“You were screaming. What’s wrong?”
Covered in sweat and breathing hard, Farrell strained against the sheets twisted around his legs. “I . . . um . . . was having a bad dream.”
Or was it? What he’d just experienced reminded him too much of when he’d been trapped in his own consciousness to be coincidence. Did Meglar’s spell still have a toehold in his mind? Was it still affecting him despite what everyone believed?
Farrell’s thoughts were interrupted when Miceral sat on the edge of the bed. Still fully dressed, Miceral untangled the white cotton sheet from Farrell’s legs. As Miceral unwound him, Farrell struggled to calm down.
“That must have been an intense dream. We all heard you yell.”
Mindful of what was happening in his dream when he woke up, he refused to meet Miceral’s questioning gaze. “Could you make out what I was saying?”
“No, but you sounded almost frustrated or angry.” Miceral touched Farrell’s chin so their eyes could meet. “What was going on?”
“I was fighting Vedric.”
“Oh.” Miceral’s face betrayed his concern.
“Come to bed? I think I’ll sleep better if you’re next to me.” It was a shameless grab for attention, but Farrell was needy at the moment.
If Miceral realized what Farrell was up to, he didn’t let on. Instead he smiled and stood up. “Sure. Let me clean up and I’ll be right there.”
After Miceral closed the door to their room, Farrell rolled over. It might have been just a dream, but he remembered how he’d acted. Even if he’d been manipulated, he’d still wanted to kill his half-brother when it hadn’t been necessary. He’d beaten Vedric and could have secured him instead of killing him. That alone scared him. But he couldn’t shake the fear that Meglar might still have a connection inside his head.
Chapter Eight
Farrell woke the next morning having slept peacefully the rest of the night. Once Miceral had crawled in behind him and pressed close, Farrell relaxed and fell asleep. He kissed Miceral’s arm and slipped out of bed.
“Getting up early?” Miceral rolled onto his back. The sheet outlined his body and drew particular attention to his groin. Seeing his partner’s excited state—even if through the thin layer of cotton—almost made Farrell change plans.
“I need to empty my bladder.” He didn’t wait for an answer before moving to the small alcove that housed the latrine.
After he relieved himself, he headed back to the bed. Miceral sat up and swung his legs over the edge the moment Farrell exited the privy. Free of the cover, Miceral’s arousal was on full display. Without meaning to, Farrell stared at his partner’s midsection and breathed in sharply.
“My turn.” He paused to kiss Farrell on the cheek before moving on. “And when I get back, you can do more than look.”
Despite how long they’d been together, he blushed at the comment That wouldn’t stop him from taking Miceral up on the offer, but he still felt embarrassed that he’d been caught staring.
Chastising himself for being foolish, he stopped by his pants and retrieved the Eye from the pocket. He dropped the gem from its protective case into his palm and stared into the blue crystal. “Show me what Kel left in Agloth.”
The gentle presence of the Eye eased into his mind. The touch flickered, then disappeared without showing him anything. Not completely unexpected, though he had hoped it would work. He almost put the gem away but decided to try one other tactic.
“Show me where Kel left something behind.” This time an image filled his mind. The nondescript building he saw didn’t tell him much, so he directed the Eye to move back. Once he had a point of reference and felt confident he could find the location, he broke the link and stowed the gem.
“Find anything?” Miceral slid his arms around Farrell’s waist and kissed the back of his neck.
Farrell nearly missed the question. The calming effect using the Eye gave him vanished in an instant as Miceral’s touch sent a jolt through his body.
“Is that really what you want to know right now?” He twisted around so they were face to face. “Because I recall you saying I could do more than look when you returned.”
“I did at that.” He led them back to the bed. “But we can do that after you tell me what you learned.”
Miceral lifted the sheet, let Farrell slide in first, and then crawled in after him.
“Fine, but I can’t believe you’d rather hear about what I found first.”
“Easy for you to say. You know it already.”
“I hadn’t thought of it like that.” Farrell chuckled and rolled over so his back was pressed against Miceral’s chest. As he hoped, Miceral reached around and hugged him close. “The Eye only showed me where Kel hid something. It wouldn’t show me what’s there or how to get to it.”
“You don’t seem bothered by that.” Miceral rubbed his thumb across Farrell’s chest, giving special attention to his left nipple.
“Mmm, that does bad things to me, Ral.”
The massage stopped. “Sorry.” Miceral moved his hand lower and hugged Farrell tighter. “Why aren’t you concerned the Eye didn’t show you more?”
“Seritia has limited what the Eye will show me since we started the trip.” He covered Miceral’s hand with his. “I’ll admit I wish I could see more, but knowing where to look is the most important piece of information.
I’m reasonably sure Kel didn’t make this as tough a test as the first one.” “You base that optimism on what? A hunch?”
He knew he deserved Miceral’s skepticism because he had no hard evidence to back him up. “Pretty much, but I’m not grasping at the wind.
There’s a reason for my thinking.”
“I’m listening.”
He took a moment to collect his thoughts. “Without going into too much detail, what Kel did in the Council’s chamber was an epic bit of magic. Forget that he created a ring of almost impenetrable defenses watched over by an interactive image of himself. Those pale in comparison to spells that only admitted his successor. That bit of magic must have taken years of effort to create. Remember, not only could the room determine who it should admit, it ejected everyone who didn’t belong. We’re talking very powerful wizards. According to F
ather Gedrin, my mother made several attempts to gain access, and all of them failed. You never met my mother, but she was a very powerful and smart wizard. Even Heminaltose respected her. Add that she was desperate and had the knowledge gleaned from her prior failed attempts, and she still couldn’t last more than a few seconds. That’s astounding.”
Talking about his mother stung, and he stopped before it choked him up. Miceral hugged him a bit tighter, and he clutched at the closeness.
“I understand that what he did at Dumbarten was impressive, but I’m not following why that means it will be easier here. If anything, that suggests it will be harder because he’ll be doing it a second time in Agloth.”
“Not exactly. This may only be intuitive to a wizard, but he wouldn’t invest the same effort here. Whomever defeated the first one would be able to easily defeat the same spells now. So that means he’d need to come up with a whole new slate of defenses. More importantly, what I fought was meant to make sure Kel’s successor was a good enough wizard to take up the mantle. It wasn’t meant to protect what he left behind—the initial spell did that. It tossed out anyone who didn’t belong. And, had my mother or someone else tried to blast their way into the room, the Eye and the Arm would have been whisked away to somewhere else.”
“So you think this time the spells will know it’s you and let you in?”
Farrell smiled at Miceral’s skeptical tone. “No, I think Kel keyed the room to the Eye of Honorus—or the Arm of Khron. Only someone who has one or both of those in their possession will be able to get in. If not, the room will fight you, and if you try to force your way in—”
“Whatever is in there is sent somewhere else.”
“Exactly.” Miceral started to rub his stomach again, and Farrell wiggled and turned around until he faced his partner. “Now that I’ve explained that, can I do more than look?”
Without waiting for a reply, Farrell nudged his partner onto his back and rolled on top. He’d waited long enough. When their lips met, he forgot about Kel, Seritia, and Gifts of the Gods.
Bathed, dressed, and still on a high after his time with Miceral, Farrell stretched one more time before opening the front door to their quarters. As he knew there would be, guards waited outside the door. The three women appeared relaxed and taking advantage of the shade. Only a few hours after sunup and the temperature already was too warm for his liking. The guards snapped to attention when they saw him step outside.
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