“Clearly Clayden feels we need guards,” Kel said.
“So long as they stay out of our way, I’m happy to have them guard our rear.”
Connected to the water, Farrell noted the volume in the city increased steadily. Teberus and his wizards pushed massive waves over the walls. The Arlefors rode the water and spread out through the city. Fights broke out anyplace the enemy could find firm ground to make a stand. Those battles were brief.
Arlefors were at least as strong as Chamdon. Unlike Meglar’s mindless creatures, however, Arlefors applied training and control to produce superior fighters. Most of Meglar’s human soldiers fled at the sight of the Arlefors, but the rising water levels left few avenues of retreat.
The plan called for the Rastorian soldiers to engage Meglar’s forces while Kel and Farrell made for the hidden cache of weapons and books. Farrell focused on the water that sped them through the city rather than the battle between the Arlefors and Chamdon.
The Arlefor wizards behind them made sure their “guards” kept up with their charges. Twice the path Kel set put them close enough to high ground for a group of Chamdon to launch an attack. Farrell was thankful for Clayden’s foresight. With deadly efficiency, the Arlefors kept the Chamdon away from Kel and Farrell.
“Turn right,” Kel said.
Farrell directed the never-crashing crest of water they rode down a now-empty boulevard. In the days before Meglar’s assault, this avenue had coursed with merchants, vendors, and shoppers. Meglar’s people had turned once-pristine shops with all manner of wares from around the globe into barracks and storehouses.
Farrell flushed with anger, and Kel bristled with rage at what had become of his once-magnificent city. He tightened his grip on his staff. Random rays of sunlight struck the red jewel and seemed to set it on fire. The fingers of fiery light swirled around the top of the staff, mirroring the rage of its owner.
Farrell felt magic ahead of them, and a scarlet bolt of energy shot forward. It detonated on a makeshift shield their enemy erected across the street, shattering the barrier like thin ice. The energy twisted into a quartet of scarlet ribbons that slithered through the streets. Seconds later the strips of energy had wrapped themselves around an enemy wizard. They tightened like a snake and the wizard screamed as he died.
“My books will explain that spell to you,” Kel said. “Turn left here.”
Several Chamdon and a wizard handler stood at the far end of the block. The fight was almost unfair given the limited dry ground left in the city, but when the squad growled at them, Farrell lost any compunction about destroying them.
He increased the volume of water under his control and sent it rushing toward their enemy. The guards behind him rode the current forward and charged the Chamdon.
The water inundated the Chamdon seconds before the Arlefors attacked. Taking advantage of their natural habitat, the Rastorians disappeared beneath the water. A trident extended above the water with a Chamdon head impaled on one of the tines.
They continued uncontested for two long blocks before Kel directed Farrell to turn right. A moment later he commanded they take a left turn, which brought them into a dead end.
“Fill this alley with water and release our guards,” Kel said. “They may not accompany us where we’re going.”
A giant wave rolled around the corner and into the small alley. It crashed over their heads and kept the dead end full of water. Farrell wished their guards good hunting and sent them away with promises to meet them soon.
They sank into the water until they settled onto the cobblestones of the street below. Farrell drew a lungful of water and adjusted to the sensation while Kel focused on the street.
During their travel to this spot, Farrell hadn’t paid attention to their route. Now that they’d arrived, he realized Kel had led them north and east of the palace, almost to the edge of the old city. As a young boy, Farrell had disliked this section of the city because of the smell from the tanneries. When he was a teenager, he wandered the area in search of something unique. The items were cheaper than the goods sold in the shops along the main avenue.
Kel moved slowly in the water and stopped at a spot no more remarkable than any other. Farrell watched Kel put the butt of his staff on a flagstone and push. The stone sank into the ground and a different stone—three to the left and two up—rose.
“I had the help of some very clever dwarf craftsmen in building the city,” Kel said. “We laid out this room during the planning stages so it would appear to be an ordinary building of no importance.”
Farrell used his wizard sense to scan the area. “Incredible. Even though I know it’s here, I can’t sense anything—above or below.”
“Some of the most powerful spells Beatrice and I could devise protect the room below. Up here, however, dwarfish ingenuity guards the entrance.”
“Incredible.”
Kel tapped the raised stone with his staff. “Can you lift up this stone, please?”
The stone slid smoothly, and Farrell set it next to the opening. Kel placed the end of the staff inside the hole and moved it around. It caught on something and then sank another inch.
“Please be sure to keep the water out of the chamber below,” Kel said.
Farrell concentrated and the water rose, leaving a gap between it and the street. “Is that sufficient?”
Kel nodded and twisted his staff. A large rectangular swath of cobblestone, four feet wide and six feet long, sank before sliding under the street. They lowered themselves into the room below. Passing from the water back to air required Farrell to clear his lungs again. He thought he’d keep it inside to see how long he could, but then he couldn’t talk.
“Shall I release the water?” he asked as he expelled the water from his lungs.
“No, we must leave as we came in. We cannot open a Door in this space.” Kel scanned the room as if it were a lost love.
“When were you last here, Grandfather?”
“Before I found Bren and Geena.” Kel gazed lovingly at a sarcophagus in the middle of the room.
“Is that . . .?”
“Yes, that is my beloved, Teresa. She is the only woman I ever loved.” Kel swallowed loudly. “Unfortunately she was not blessed with a long life. Despite all my efforts, I was powerless to extend her life much beyond what others lived.”
Farrell kept silent and allowed Kel to have his moment.
“You are fortunate the Six sent you a mate who will live for centuries. We only had sixty-four years. An extraordinary amount of time for most, but not nearly enough for me. When she died, I knew I would never be joined again.”
Farrell’s nose tingled. “I’m so sorry, Grandfather.”
“Don’t be.” Kel turned back to the marker. “Three thousand years alone was worth the sixty-four I had with Teresa. When this war is over, be sure to bury me beside my beloved.”
“Assuming I survive, I’ll be sure to do as you ask.”
Kel wheeled about with fire in his eyes. “That is the last time I’ll listen to your defeatist attitude!”
Farrell flinched and stepped back. “What?”
“Everyone believes in you, except you!” Kel’s shout echoed in the chamber. “You need to believe you are going to win, or you will lose. And I did not live a lifetime alone for you to fail. That is unacceptable!”
Shocked by the harsh rebuke, Farrell held up his hand. “Okay!”
“You must believe in yourself or else you enter the fight at a mental disadvantage.” Kel’s tone softened only a little. “Doubt can paralyze you at the worst time. You know this. It’s no different than when you cast a complex spell. If you don’t believe it will work, it most likely will not.”
“I understand, Grandfather.”
Kel put his hand on Farrell’s shoulder and led him away from Teresa’s tomb. “Since the fall of Trellham, I’ve made the acquaintance of every major wizard on Nendor. I did this in part to keep track of them, but also to determine if they were cap
able of taking my place as Champion of the Six.
“If you believe nothing else I tell you, believe you are the finest wizard I’ve ever met. Better than Sanduval, Velchuck, Heminaltose, even Beatrice and myself. Velchuck and I were the radicals, the ones who pushed the boundaries. Beatrice and Heminaltose are both great wizards, but more conservative in their approach to magic. Their strengths were more academic, which made them excellent teachers and spell casters.”
Grasping his staff in both hands, Kel leaned forward. “Heminaltose taught you to be technical and precise, but you kept your innate curiosity. When books and study don’t yield the desired answer, you’re not afraid to attempt something untried. In that you are more like me than your master. Combined, however, you take the best parts of both of us to be better than either of us.
“That, Grandson, is a long way of saying you are better than all of us, including Meglar. Start believing in yourself.”
“Yes, Grandfather.” Farrell nodded as he spoke. “I shall try to—”
“No!” Kel stamped the butt of his staff emphatically. “Try is not good enough. You must believe you are better than Meglar, not just try to believe it.”
Farrell smiled sheepishly. “Understood.”
“Excellent.” Kel tapped his staff on the stone. “Now let’s get what we came for.”
The hidden chamber was larger than Farrell expected. It was wider than the road under which it ran, and Farrell estimated the room was thirty feet long on all sides. The roof vaulted more than twenty feet above their heads.
What stood out most was the amount of power he found in the chamber. Farrell needed to rein in his senses to avoid overload. He didn’t know how Kel shielded the room so well that he couldn’t detect its presence. However he did it, it was impressive.
“By the Six! There’s enough power here to confront Meglar.”
“That is not entirely accurate.” Kel moved his staff from right to left and back. The room shimmered, revealing shelves and cabinets Farrell had not seen when they arrived. “What you sense is the energy required to create the room and many of the objects I’ve stored here. This is my legacy to you and the world. All that I wrote or acquired, anything I created or recovered, I stored here.”
“Except, of course, the Gifts.”
“Those were unique in so many ways.”
Farrell slowly surveyed the room. Shelves crammed with books and objects stretched to the ceiling. A rack to his right held dozens of staffs of varying sizes and made of different materials. Cabinets lined one wall, but their doors were shut. Farrell’s wizard’s sight revealed they were magically sealed.
“Your workroom is a fair sight neater than mine, Grandfather,” Farrell said. He removed a pair of leather bags equipped with endless pockets and handed one to Kel.
“So I’ve been told on more than one occasion.” Kel flipped the sack over in his hand. “Will just these two suffice?”
“One would have been enough, but two will allow us to work faster. Though it’s going to be difficult to find everything once they’re inside. We’ll have to empty everything once we get back to Haven and sort it out then.”
“That won’t be as difficult as you think,” Kel said. “I’ve a very good idea what’s here and can get it organized without too much trouble.”
“That will be helpful.” Farrell searched for a place to start. “Since you sealed the cabinets, I’ll leave those to you and concentrate on the bookcases.”
Kel nodded, and Farrell set to work. He pointed his staff toward the closest set of shelves and summoned the contents. The books and other items drifted toward him, and Farrell directed them into the open bag.
Once he got into a rhythm, Farrell kept a continuous stream of books floating into the endless pocket. As one set of shelves emptied, he moved down the wall to the next. In short order he’d cleared the south and west wall and moved onto the north one.
“Don’t be a show-off, young man,” Kel said with a laugh. “This isn’t a race, and it won’t impress me if you manage to clear more shelves than I do.”
Farrell smiled but kept working. Kel had the harder job and had only finished two-thirds of the eastern wall. “The Rastorian army is waiting for us to finish before they can disengage their attack. I thought it prudent to finish as quickly as possible, even if it bruised your ego.”
With the flick of a finger, Kel sent a book at Farrell. It interrupted him momentarily, but Farrell steered it into his bag and resumed his work.
Fifteen minutes after they began, the chamber was empty but for the tomb in the center of the room. Kel walked over once he’d finished.
“Goodbye, Teresa. It won’t be much longer before I’m with you once more.” He bent and kissed the marble. He wiped the smooth surface with his thumb.
Farrell walked over to pay his respects. He placed a hand on the monument and bowed his head. “Goodbye, Grandmother.”
The simple act sent a chill down his arms and back. He looked over, and his grandfather smiled at him.
“I wish I could have met her,” he said as he joined Kel. “She must have been an amazing person to have captured your heart for so long.”
“She was.”
Farrell collected Kel’s pack and shoved it and the twin into his pocket. Suddenly, an annoying buzz filled the chamber. “What in Neblor is that?”
“Never swear by His dark realm, Farrell. If you call Him, you will attract His attention, whether you want it or not. Especially you.”
“Wise advice. Thank you.”
“To answer your question, that is an alert that someone other than one attuned to my tower is working high magic.” He appeared distracted. “If I judge it correctly, someone is scrying. We must go there directly.”
“Scrying?” Farrell couldn’t feel anything. “How can you tell?”
“My city, my tower, my spells, my room. There was little that escaped my attention when I was king.” Kel pointed toward the exit. “Of more importance is that we get there to find out who is being contacted.”
Kel flew toward the opening, leaving Farrell to follow. When the floor was back in place and the stone returned to its home, Kel sealed the room, and Farrell released the water.
“The room is yours once you have interred me beside my beloved,” Kel said. “When we have a free moment, I’ll transfer the key to you and explain how things work.”
Chapter Thirty-One
The central tower dominated Yar-del City. Dubbed Kel’s Tower by the citizens when Kel ruled, it formally acquired that name after he abdicated. From the observation room at the top, Farrell had been able to see for miles. The view was stunning. Having spent many days in Yar-del before its fall, Farrell did not need directions.
Farrell told Teberus they had recovered Kel’s property and were heading toward the palace complex. He advised the Arlefors to begin their withdrawal.
As they rode the water, they passed patches of dry ground littered with dead Chamdon and humans. Farrell assumed Argus and his troops had removed their dead.
Drawing more water through his link, Farrell crested the palace wall. The moment they cleared the fortifications, a pair of wizards attacked them.
“They’re brave,” Kel said as he released a counter.
“No, they’re scared and have nowhere else to run,” Farrell said.
He forced more water over the wall and covered the ground in a rising layer of liquid. When they reached the tower, Farrell created a pillar under their feet and sent them skyward. Halfway up the tower, a powerful strike hit their shields.
“I’ll handle this,” Kel said.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of oddly shaped darts. Round in the center, a thin dowel protruded on either end. A wickedly curved barb formed one end, and the other resembled a miniature dragon tail. The weapons flew from Kel’s hand and raced toward their unseen enemies. The darts disappeared over the lip of the platform at the top of the tower. Farrell heard screams followed by a flash and a si
zzling sound.
“Something I forgot I made but found in the cabinets,” Kel said.
Moments later they reached the observatory. A male and female wizard lay on their backs with their hands wrapped around Kel’s missiles. The tips had sunk into the stone floor, and the centers had burned holes in the chests of the victims. The looks of agony on the faces of the dead left no doubt how they’d spent their last moments.
“No mercy for Neldin’s minions.” Kel’s voice was cold as stone.
Farrell nodded his agreement but saw his grandfather in a new way. Gone was the cheerful, grandfatherly man who made Geena and Bren laugh. The wizard next to him was the Kel legends spoke of: brilliant, focused, adept, and deadly.
“This way.” Kel pointed toward the door facing due north.
Farrell used the tip of his staff to open the door, and a pair of magical attacks struck his shield. “Leave these to me.”
Separating his staff, Farrell advanced on his enemies. Three desperate wizards and a handful of guards huddled against the far wall. Farrell crushed the outer shield of the first wizard with a backhand swipe of his staff. The platinum end detonated on contact, shattering the barrier. Farrell struck with the other half, sending the defenseless wizard across the room. He was dead before he slammed into the wall.
The remaining wizards stood shoulder to shoulder. They abandoned their attacks and channeled their energy into defending themselves. Farrell used the moves Master Baylec had taught him to rain blows on the barely adequate shield. The fifth blow swept away the protection, and he quickly blasted the dazed wizards. Their bodies slumped against the wall.
Their wizards dead, the guards huddled against the stone, their weapons shaking as they held them out. An image of the helpless belcin flashed before his eyes, but Farrell banished it. These were soldiers of Meglar, and as Kel had said, there could be no mercy for Meglar’s soldiers. He made sure their deaths were quick.
“Impressive,” Kel said when he walked up behind Farrell. “Your training with Baylec is very useful.”
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