“Very well.”
Trusting his grandfather could and would defend the ship, Farrell concentrated on the enemy. He called up a wall of water behind the trio. As the water washed over the unsuspecting wizards, Farrell began his attack. Using the water to cloud his opponents’ vision, Farrell struck Meglar’s cousin with a blast of sizzling, green power. She countered, but her attack went wide to the left.
The wizards on the Dauntless launched their own attacks, and soon arcane energy flew across the roiling sea. Farrell followed up his attack by launching a series of debilitating strikes. First he sent a handful of energy leeches, followed by a half-dozen energy bombs. The small but powerful explosions helped feed the leeches. Before he could launch a third, his enemy tossed something that resembled the purple liquid Farrell had used on Vedric. Farrell dipped down, cradled the substance in a cup of energy, and hurled it at the other two enemy wizards.
His primary foe had contained his leeches but warily eyed him as she plucked them off her shield.
“She’s reached out to someone,” Kel said. At the same time, he slapped at the woman with yellow-and-blue ribbons of energy.
Farrell ignored how Kel knew she’d signaled someone and used the distraction he’d provided to search for a threat. After a long moment where he found nothing, he “heard” someone use a great deal of power far away. The sound originated from the direction of Zargon. Seconds later he saw it heading toward them.
The water surrounding his adversaries dropped back into the ocean, and Farrell used the sea to propel him higher. He sucked in as much energy as he could and raised both hands over his head. No matter how often he experienced it, the amount of power his father could hurl across great distances always impressed him.
Surrounded by the vast, untapped energy around him, Farrell decided to meet the attack head-on. Pulling even more power, he readied a spell Teberus had taught him.
“Farrell!” The urgency of Kel’s call was mixed with irritation. “What are you doing?”
“Testing my ability to control and use energy on the same scale as Meglar.” As foolish as it sounded, he might never get a better chance.
The ball of energy he created was many times too large to fit between his hands, so Farrell readied it above his head. When he couldn’t cram any more into his containment spell, he hurled it at the incoming assault from Meglar.
The two balls met high above the ocean and exploded in a brilliant display of light. Farrell readied a second one and waited. Nothing materialized, so he held on to his weapon.
Returning his attention back to the fight, he found he was no longer between the Dauntless and their enemy. The two sides had drifted south and were engaged in a full-scale battle. He flicked his wrist and sent the giant ball of energy at Meglar’s cousin.
The detonation rocked the woman and shattered the shield of one of the two master wizards. He died a second later when he took a blast of wizard’s fire full in the chest. The second master’s shields lasted only a moment longer, and he screamed in agony and burst into flames.
Alone and without support, the remaining wizard searched her surroundings. “Yield and you will be treated fairly,” Kel said.
“Yield?” Her bravado impressed Farrell. She had to know she was doomed. “Do you know who I am?”
“You are Carifa, cousin to that fool of a wizard, Meglar.” The tip of Kel’s staff pulsed. “The better question is, do you know who I am?”
“A tired old wizard who should not insult his betters.”
“I’ll give you a message for your cousin, though I doubt you will live long enough to deliver it.” The red jewel burst into fire and tiny red dots flew out of the flames and circled Kel’s head. “Tell him Kel has returned, and I’m coming to reclaim what is rightfully mine.”
Kel stamped the end of his staff on the deck, and the specks of fire sped across the water, growing as they moved. The energy elongated into ribbons that Farrell had seen his grandfather use before.
Satisfied he wasn’t needed, Farrell guarded against another long-range strike. It took an effort not to watch the battle between Kel and Carifa, and he was glad he made the effort when a probing spell brushed over him. It was black and angry. He reached for the energy and struck with a spell he’d prepared for this possibility. The attack was part magic, part mental. He held on to the link to keep it open long enough for his strike to hit with full force.
Farrell remained alert for further attacks, although confident Meglar wouldn’t be willing to try that again. Unless Carifa could reach out to him, something that seemed unlikely, Meglar wouldn’t be able to influence the fight.
Two of Kel’s red bands had been sealed in balls of energy, but the others had wrapped themselves around Carifa’s shield. As they squeezed tighter, green-and-blue sparks exploded against her shield. Her counterspell failed as she used her hand to shield her eyes.
The distraction allowed the bands to bind her shield tighter. Carifa’s face betrayed the strain, and she looked like a frightened animal as she worked to escape her doom. Farrell felt a momentary pang of sympathy for her. She didn’t deserve it, and she’d have never give him the same concern, but her death would be violent and full of fear. Another mind sweep approached and readied another attack. Before he launched it, he realized this probe came from beneath the water.
Carefully he used the water to reveal himself to the Arlefor wizard. He didn’t spare too much attention as the battle was drawing to a close. Carifa launched a furious attack that fizzled before it got halfway to Kel. His grandfather appeared calm, but Farrell knew it couldn’t be good for him to engage in the fight for much longer.
A plume of water rose and surrounded him up to his waist. He separated his staff and pulled energy through his link. Twin bursts of energy struck Carifa’s shield, ending her counterattack. He ratcheted the intensity of his assaults. The transfer of energy from water through him and to his staffs was seamless. The wood beneath his hands grew warm as he upped the level of his attack beyond anything he’d employed before.
Between his attack and what Kel’s bands were doing, Carifa screamed in anger and fear as her shields shattered. Farrell’s attacks carried through, and her body burst apart, leaving nothing but tiny bits to float down onto the water.
Farrell made another sweep to make sure no one else was looking for them and then flew back to the Dauntless.
“Chosen?” A voice called from the water once he was back on deck.
“Who is asking?”
“Adres, son of Argus. Our wizards felt your battle and inquire if you need assistance.”
“Thank you, Lord Adres.” He motioned for Kel to join him. “The fight is over, but my grandfather and I need to travel to Rastoria, and we could use your help.”
“As you wish, Chosen. His Majesty dispatched us to provide you with whatever aid you require.”
Chapter Eighteen
Following the battle, Farrell and Kel rested on board the Dauntless. Adres returned the next morning to escort them to Rastoria.
As they descended toward the ocean floor, Farrell remembered how little light made it through the water.
“I can see why you were so adamant about taking a ship,” Kel said when they’d been swimming for half an hour. “It is farther down than I expected.”
“It is one of the deepest places in the ocean,” Adres said.
“What made your ancestors choose this location?” Kel asked.
“It is far below the surface and well out of sight of the other races. In addition, Rastoria and the other four cities are built near sources of abundant geothermal energy.”
“Geothermal?” Farrell was unfamiliar with that word.
“Energy from the planet itself,” Adres answered. “Our scientists believe the center of our world is a molten core. We use the energy to warm our city and for other energy needs.”
“Incredible,” Kel said.
Movement in the city caught Farrell’s attention. In the dim light, i
t took a moment to recognize a column of Arlefor warriors swimming toward them.
“The high priestess sent an honor guard to escort you to the city, Chosen.” Adres gripped Farrell’s hand tighter.
“Is something wrong?” Farrell asked.
“The typical tension between the throne and the temple,” Adres said. “The Western March is a military command that answers to the king. Her captain will assert temple priority and seek to take over as your escort.”
Farrell had been aware of the rivalry between Burcia and her brother, Clayden. “Temple priority? Does that even exist?”
“Depends on who you ask.” Adres sounded amused. “King Clayden does not recognize Burcia’s authority, and she continues to assert it.”
Though he disliked being put in the middle of the two sides, prudence dictated he not play favorites. The king and priestess would need to settle their squabble themselves.
Twelve Arlefor dressed in temple green approached their position. When they showed no signs of stopping, Adres and his Arlefors slowed to avoid a collision.
“Hail Adres, heir to the Western March and commander of the king’s army.” The speaker was a thick warrior who led the others.
“Greetings, Mesner.” Adres relaxed. “Have you come to join our escort?”
“Aye, cousin, that I have.” A smile, or what Farrell took to be a smile, crossed the temple guard’s face. “In truth, my orders are to relieve you and escort the Chosen to the king and priestess, but we both know you will never relent. Rather than embarrass Rastoria, I thought we could act jointly.”
The two swam closer and placed their right hands on the other’s left shoulder.
“If you would allow,” Mesner said, “I would appreciate it if you would allow me and my guards to escort the Chosen. That might placate Her Eminence for my failure to relieve you.”
“Do you think I shall fare any better with the king if I agree?” Adres dropped his hand.
“Why don’t you swim Farrell to the king together?” Kel asked. “Then neither temple nor crown could claim a superior position.”
“In truth, the high priestess will not see it that way,” Mesner said. “But at least the king won’t be able to say his people escorted the Chosen alone this time.”
Farrell decided he’d had enough. “If an agreement can’t be reached quickly, I can escort myself to the king and high priestess.”
The cousins accepted Kel’s suggestion, and each placed a hand under Farrell’s arm. The pair swam off, pulling him along.
This being his second time in Rastoria, Farrell took in details he’d missed the first time. The tall, slender towers were laid out in an interconnected star pattern, with the palace-temple complex at its center. Using his wizard’s sight, he saw the heat rising from the floor and spotted an especially hot area to the north in a sparsely occupied part of the city.
Brother and sister waited on the same landing where Farrell met them months ago. Clayden appeared in high spirits as Farrell approached his position. A soldier in the king’s colors placed a heavy belt around Farrell’s waist, and a priestess did the same for Kel. The pair buckled the weights and backed away.
“Welcome back to Rastoria, Farrell.” The king reached forward and placed his hand on Farrell’s shoulder. “Was our company not to your liking that you felt the need to bring a companion?”
“On the contrary, Your Majesty. You made my time so enjoyable, I brought my relative to experience it as well.” Farrell bowed deeply to the king and his sister before stepping to his right to allow Kel to join him. “Your Majesty, Holy Mother, may I present my ancestor, Chosen of Arritisa and the last Champion of the Six, Grand Master Kel.”
“A bit much, Grandson?”
Farrell ignored the taunt and stepped back. Burcia moved first and bowed to Kel. “On behalf of the Blessed Mother of the Seas, welcome to Her realm, Lord Kel.”
“It is an honor and a privilege to finally visit your astounding city, Holy Mother.” Kel returned the bow.
“The hands of the Six have blessed you, Lord Kel. Though you are no longer Chosen or Champion, you are still favored by Their touch.”
Clayden added his greeting, dismissed the guards, and led his guests inside the palace. Eight new guards towered over Farrell and Kel as they followed their hosts through the massive doors that led to the palace-temple complex. Globes of wizard’s fire danced on the quartz in the walls and created a shimmering effect as the party walked.
“Astounding,” Kel said as he stopped to stare at a ball of light hovering over a sconce. “These lights are centuries old.”
Farrell examined a globe but saw nothing unusual. “You can tell their age?”
“Indeed. It is one of the many things I have still to teach you.”
“Is there value in knowing how long these spells have been here?” a new voice asked.
Farrell smiled as Master Teberus approached from the side. “Master Teberus. I owe you my life. ‘Thank you’ will never be enough, but I thank you all the same.”
“I am pleased to see you survived your ordeal.” Teberus showed his sharp teeth in an eerie grin. “Many were very worried, myself included.”
Farrell motioned to his grandfather. “Allow me to introduce my distant relative, Grand Master Kel.”
“Kel will do nicely, sir.” Kel extended his arm in a traditional greeting.
“Well met, Master Kel.” Teberus looked at Kel’s arm quizzically. “I’m certain you mean this as a greeting, but I am unfamiliar with what to do.”
“No, the apology is mine.” Kel let his hand drop to his side. “Well met indeed, Master Teberus. We all thank you for helping save Farrell.”
Teberus turned to Farrell. “Is this the distant ancestor you were convinced survived?”
“He is, yes.”
“Excellent. Your adventure was worth the risk.” Teberus nodded to the king and priestess as if mindful he’d taken over their audience. “Back to my question, Master Kel. Why does the age of the spell matter?”
“For purposes of the spell, it doesn’t matter at all,” Kel said. “But it is something I’d never encountered before. For these lights to be working centuries later means the wizard who cast the spell powered them indefinitely. That is a talent we don’t possess on the surface. Also, by everything we know, the spells ought to have degraded long ago.”
“Having finished with the pleasantries, Clayden glanced at his uncle, “tell us, Chosen, what brings you back to Rastoria?”
Mindful of the power play between the siblings, Farrell chose his words carefully. “The last time I was here, I left in a rush. I came back with Kel to finish my visit. I also need to ask the high priestess a question.”
Surprised, Burcia looked to her brother before speaking. “How may I assist you, Chosen?”
“May we speak in private, first?” Farrell waved his hand to include Kel, Teberus, and Clayden. “I don’t know how things work in Rastoria, and I don’t want to have a discussion about the will of Arritisa in public if that violates some protocol.”
Clayden’s laughter surprised Farrell. He expected irritation, not amusement. “The test of wills between my sister and I does not extend to you, Chosen. She would never withhold anything vital to the defense of Rastoria and will share with me whatever is appropriate.”
“Thank you for your trust, brother.” She smiled for the first time since they’d arrived and swept her arm toward an open door. “Will Lord Kel be joining us?”
“No,” Kel said. “My reasons for coming require I speak to King Clayden and Master Teberus. Farrell and I have spoken of his mission and he does not need my help.”
“Chosen, if you will come this way.” Burcia pointed toward the open door. “We can use my private chapel.”
Two temple guards moved behind him, and Farrell struggled to keep up with the high priestess. The spells that allowed him to survive underwater did nothing to help him walk. After the guards stopped for the second time, Farrell used a little ma
gic to aid his progress.
Burcia whirled around, her hands raised as if to strike. “Chosen, what happened? Are your spells failing?”
He waved his hand absently. “No, they’re fine. They just don’t help me walk through water. I used a bit of magic to aid me. Did I do something wrong?”
“When I sensed your spell, I thought we were under attack.” Burcia relaxed and lowered her hands. “We do not use magic to move the water inside Arritisa’s temple.”
“My deepest apologies, Holy Mother.”
“There is no need, Chosen. How could you know?” Burcia motioned the guards forward. “They will aid you.”
Before Farrell could react, a guard on each side placed a hand under his arms and hoisted him off the ground. They glided through the water after the priestess. Burcia stopped in front of a door, and the guards put Farrell down. She dismissed the pair and pushed the door open.
“A humbling experience, is it not, Chosen?”
He bristled, but ignored the slight. “Indeed. I’m not used to others helping me walk.”
“No,” she laughed. “I meant the power of Her water is a humbling thing. We take for granted the gift it is to be allowed to reside in Her realm.” Burcia swept her left arm gracefully through the water toward the interior of the room. “Please come in and be welcome.”
Plowing through water, Farrell entered the small chamber and sank to his knees. Floating over a small stone altar at the back of the chapel, a white manta ray softly flapped its fins.
“Hello, My Chosen,” the avatar said.
Farrell kept his head down and saw Burcia kneel beside him. “How may I serve You, Most Holy?”
“Patience, child. Allow Me to greet your companion.”
The light from the avatar drew closer, and the water moved gently. “How are you, beloved?”
“In Your presence I can never be anything other than elated.”
“It pleases Me to find you well, Burcia,” the avatar said. “However, today the purpose of My visit is to speak with My Chosen.”
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