Fate of Wizardoms Boxed Set

by Jeffrey L. Kohanek

  “And what?” Rhoa growled.

  Jace sighed. “I thought to kill Taladain myself. Spare you the burden of having murdered a man.”

  Rhoa flinched in shock. Jace, this man who seemed to have no ethics to guide him, had done something considerate, or had attempted to.

  “Perhaps…I misjudged you.” The words came out haltingly as Rhoa wrestled with the realization.

  Jace grinned. “Most do. I actually prefer it that way.” His smile fell away. “Anyway, I figured it was the least I could do after–” He stopped mid-sentence.

  “What is it?”

  He shook his head. “It’s nothing. I just found some sympathy toward your situation.” His grin returned. “Besides, the contract for this job is massive. I’ll be set for life once I return to Marquithe.”

  “Marquithe?” Rhoa looked at Salvon. “Is that where we are going?”

  “This road leads to Starmuth, but we can continue to Marquithe.” Salvon gazed into her eyes and asked softly, “Is that where you wish to go?”

  Rhoa was still unsure of her future or the path she should take. “I don’t know.”

  Salvon tilted his head. “Do you wish to rejoin Stanlin’s menagerie?”

  She pressed her lips together and considered the idea. Stanlin had treated her well, and a kinship remained between her and the troupe members. However, she couldn’t help feeling as if she were a shiny toy Stanlin showed off to his crowds in return for coin.

  Perhaps there is more in life for me.

  “I don’t think so, Salvon. I don’t know what I wish to do, but I feel like my time with the menagerie has passed and should remain so.” She paused briefly. “However, if the troupe is still in Starmuth, I should let them know I am all right. I left in a rush, without warning or explanation. I never even had a chance to say goodbye.”

  “Very well.” The old man nodded. “Why don’t you two come down? We will sit with the others and eat. There, we can discuss our plans.”

  As they climbed down, Jace asked, “What is Rawk, exactly? I’ve never heard of magic that could shape stone as he does.”

  Rhoa froze, afraid to reveal Rawk’s secret.

  Salvon smirked. “I’m surprised it took you so long.”

  “Took so long for what?”

  “For you to realize Rawk is different from us.”

  Jace looked toward the fire where Rawk sat with the others. “I think I’m missing something.”

  “He is a Maker.”

  Rhoa froze and stared at Salvon. How long has he known?

  Eyes narrowed, Jace looked at Salvon. “You expect me to believe he is a Maker? They died off many centuries ago.”

  “Where is your proof?” Salvon gave him a knowing look. “Think on what you have seen, not what you think you know.”

  After a moment of consideration, Jace said, “I have seen some things that should not be possible.”

  With a grin, Salvon said, “As I thought.” The old man turned toward camp. “Try to keep this information to yourself. I believe he wishes to remain unnoticed.”

  Bless you, Salvon, Rhoa thought.

  Jace snorted. “Don’t worry about me, old man. A thief with loose lips is as good as dead.”

  Jace tossed the last log onto the fire, sending a wave of sparks upward, the embers drifting toward the moonlit sky until they faded to black. He sat beside Narine. The choice was not random. During dinner, he had watched her from across the fire, but the flames continued to interrupt the view, twisting the beauty that tugged at him. He had always had a thing for curvy girls, and this one was just about as enticing as any he had ever known.

  “Jace?” Narine said after a moment.

  Adyn sat to the other side of Narine, looming with a challenging glare.

  “Yes, Narine?” Jace replied.

  Adyn leaned over and punched Jace in his recently healed shoulder. “She is a princess, and you will address her as such.”

  He rubbed his shoulder, yet refused to be intimidated. “Is she? Did she not just flee the palace and concede the throne to her brother?”

  Narine snorted. “He has a point.” She sighed. “Besides, I can’t very well have others calling me princess if I wish to escape notice.”

  Adyn glared at Jace a moment longer before sitting back and crossing her arms.

  “Did you want something, Princess?” Jace asked with a grin.

  Narine smiled, bringing her aqua-blue eyes to life. “Yes. I wanted to make sure… You aren’t really a servant, are you?”

  Rhoa laughed from across the fire. “Him? Please. He is…” She shifted to a deep, booming voice, pumping her elbows as she spoke, “Jerrell Landish, the greatest thief of all time.”

  Narine turned toward him. “Landish? From Salvon’s tale?”

  “Well, yes.” He was unsure of how she would receive the news, but he had no choice but to acknowledge the truth.

  Her eyes gazed into his, searching for something. “Was the story Salvon told true? Did you truly do those things?”

  “Much of it is true. The part with the Minotaur wasn’t quite right, but otherwise…”

  Adyn snickered. “So you stole the smallclothes off of someone?”

  Jace shrugged. “It was for a bet.”

  “What of Montague?” Narine asked. “That story even reached the University in Tiadd. Did it really happen like they say?”

  “Depends. What have you heard?”

  “You dressed as a woman and seduced him before tying him up and stealing his clothes.”

  Jace’s brow furrowed. “Why would I want the man’s stupid robes?”

  Both women smiled and leaned toward him. Jace tried not to look at Narine’s chest, but the exposed bit drew his eyes anyway.

  “So the rest is true?” Narine asked, her eyes alight with humor.

  “Well, I did dress as a woman,” Jace admitted. “But I wasn’t after his clothes. The contract required me to steal the bracelet he wore.”

  Narine’s eyes shifted from mirth to curiosity. “Bracelet?”

  “Yeah. He wore it on his ankle. It was some sort of enchanted item only wizards can use.”

  She appeared genuinely interested. “How so?”

  “As I understand it, it allowed him to use extra magic. I guess that was how he rose to high wizard at such a young age.”

  Narine sat back, her brow furrowed. “Enchantments for magic augmentation. I have never heard of such a thing. Anyone with such a device would possess power beyond their normal means.”

  “I assume that’s why Gurgan wanted it.”

  Narine’s gaze flicked to Jace in an instant. “High Wizard Gurgan? With such a device, he might challenge Malvorian.”

  Jace laughed. “That’s likely what he had in mind. Even with the bracelet, though, the man didn’t fare well.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The way I hear it,” Jace said, “Gurgan left Malvorian’s throne room in two pieces, neither of which retained any blood.”

  Narine turned to Adyn, who shook her head. “I wish I had been there to see it.”

  “What of the Minotaur?” Rawk asked from across the fire. “Did you actually face a monster that was half-man/half-bull?”

  “I did.” Jace recalled the memory, like a nightmare he could not shake. It was an experience he would never forget. “The monster was ten feet tall. Strong, too. The man with me was a skilled swordsman, an experienced soldier, tall with thick arms and a barrel chest. Even so, the Minotaur tossed him around like a babe.”

  “Tell us more. I would like to hear of it,” Narine said, her eyes alight.

  Jace wanted to dive into those eyes and swim in their aqua waters.

  The story was something he had never shared. Strangely, it made him more uncomfortable than his other escapades. Yet, with her urging, he relented. Not only did he tell the story, he recited it as Salvon might, building up to the final confrontation with the Minotaur. She begged him to continue, so he did, telling the entirety of the
tale right up until he and his companion parted ways. The only parts he left out were secrets he held close.

  Jace had been alone deep in the castle when he opened the chest. True, a map had resided there, but he had also taken two other items before fleeing from a trap he triggered. One of those remained in his coin purse – the very same amulet that had recently saved his life. The other item he had sold long ago. It had somehow fallen into Montague’s hands before he stole it a second time, then sold it to Gurgan. Both men had fallen upon hard times after owning the bracelet. Jace just hoped the amulet didn’t carry the same misfortune.

  The night rolled on, and so did the stories, with each person in the group sharing something of their past, even Rawk. By the time the fire had dwindled to embers, Jace was overcome by a foreign feeling.

  This group, these misfits from different backgrounds, had formed a bond. With it came a feeling of belonging he had never experienced. He decided he would share a piece of his reward with Rhoa, Rawk, and Salvon once they reached Marquithe. Even if he gave them each twenty gold, he would have enough remaining to live well for many years. The princess was another story, something he intended to focus on during their journey.

  Who knows what the future holds? Jace thought while laughing at something Narine said.

  Epilogue

  Lord Malvorian sat alone in his study, his eyes closed in meditation. Devotion had ended an hour earlier. The magic of Farrow surged through his veins, filling him with power. It was a majestic experience few would ever comprehend. Still, he longed for more.

  A knock at the door caused him to open his eyes. The room was filled with the aura of the magic he held, a blue-tinted radiance. With regret, he released the power, allowing it to slip back from where it came. Darkness charged toward him until he wove a construct and lit the candles on his desk.

  “Come in,” he said.

  The door opened, Thurvin entering.

  “My lord.” Thurvin dipped his head. “I have news from Despaldi.”

  Malvorian sat forward, eager to hear more. “Go on.”

  “A messenger has arrived with a missive regarding Starmuth. The man practically rode his horse to death to reach us as quickly as possible.” Thurvin’s sharp face broke into a grin. “Seven nights past, the Starmuth obelisk did not light. No Devotion took place. The citizens are confused, frightened.”

  Malvorian considered the missive and knew it could mean only one thing. A wizard lord would never allow an evening to pass without Devotion. The craving was too strong.

  “The thief did it,” Malvorian said in wonder. “He actually killed Taladain.”

  Thurvin nodded, moving closer. “I came to the same conclusion. Even if it didn’t occur at Landish’s hand, Taladain is dead.”

  Rising to his feet, Malvorian crossed the room and lifted a decanter off the credenza. He poured two glasses of brandy and turned, extending one toward his visitor. “Drink, Thurvin. You deserve it.”

  “Thank you, my lord.” The man accepted the brandy and took a sip. He then walked toward the window, stepping into the moonlight. “The autumn Darkening recently passed Fastella. The next won’t occur until spring. That leaves Ghealdor without a wizard lord for a long stretch.”

  Malvorian joined the shorter man and gazed up at the moon. “A window of opportunity has opened before us. It is time to move forward with our plans. Send orders to Despaldi and Henton. Have them prepare for a march. They are to make camp at the border and await your arrival.”

  Thurvin’s brow arched. “Me, sire?”

  “It is time to take the field.”

  “And you want me to accompany the army?”

  Malvorian put a hand on Thurvin’s shoulder. The man was small, his face narrow, like a weasel. He was not a powerful wizard, but he had a bright mind and had proven his loyalty. “When we conceived this scheme, I said you would be rewarded.” He released his grip, set his drink aside, and pulled the sleeve of his robes up. “The first reward is this.”

  Thurvin’s brow furrowed at the bracelet hanging loosely from Malvorian’s wrist. “Jewelry?”

  Working the clasp, Malvorian opened the bracelet and slid it off. “It is special, enchanted.” He held it toward the man, who took it with narrowed eyes.

  “What sort of enchantment?”

  “It is a well for storing magic.” Malvorian grinned when Thurvin flashed him a look of surprise. “Whomever wears it will have increased power.”

  The wizard studied the prize in his hand. “I had no idea such an enchantment was possible.”

  “Nor did Olberon.”

  “The enchanter knows?”

  “I took this from Gurgan after his untimely demise. When I discovered its power, I summoned Olberon. He had never seen anything of its like. The next day, he returned with five fellow enchanters to study it. Even now, they are trying to reproduce another such device.”

  “And if they succeed?”

  “I will then have additional tools for which to advance my plans.” Malvorian grinned before turning and walking toward the door, Thurvin at his side. “In the meantime, you and Captain Henton will lead our offensive. Take Starmuth first, then advance to Fastella before Ghealdor can prepare. What we attempt is unprecedented and will require magic as well as swords, which is why I am sending you.

  “I will also send a missive, demanding Forca and the entire guild join you. When you reach Lionne, you will meet with Montague and demand the same from Lionne. The high wizard will remain to protect his city, but the rest are to join the fight.”

  The wizard lord stopped beside the door, turning to look Thurvin in the eye. “Centuries of stagnant peace have made the wizard race lazy, passive, and pathetic. Occasionally, one with ambition challenges another to become a high wizard – an event occurring too infrequently for my liking. It is time for the wizards to set aside their dinners, parties, and meaningless squabbles and take the world by storm. When we are through, the Wizardom of Farrowen will be just a portion of my empire. I will lead all wizards, and the wizards will rule mankind completely.”

  Thurvin said nothing for a moment before nodding. “It will be done, my lord. However, what of Devotion? You claim to have identified a means of collecting prayers from other wizardoms.”

  “Yes.” Malvorian opened the door. “It is time to reveal the most critical aspect of my plan.”

  The wizard lord stepped into the corridor and waited for Thurvin to follow before closing the door. He then led the shorter man to his lift and called upon his magic, the power flowing through him with a rush. A disk of blue light encircled his outstretched hand in the pattern of a unique energy construct. When his palm touched the control panel, the lift began to lower.

  Malvorian said, “While Landish’s success in disposing of Taladain is a boon, it also points to the risk the amulet presents. You are to locate the thief and obtain the amulet at any cost. Set Despaldi to this task if you must, but until we possess it, our plans are at risk. It’s bad enough the thief has it, but think of what might occur if it fell into the wrong hands.”

  Thurvin nodded. “I agree. The amulet presents a great risk. It will be ours.”

  The empty throne room was dark, save for the two enchanted torches to each side of the throne. Those pale blue flames never died. After the destruction rendered during the confrontation with Gurgan, the throne had been rebuilt, a minor feat for Malvorian. True, wizardesses were more adept at constructs of repair, but with the power of a god, he was able to perform deeds other wizards would find impossible.

  The lift stopped when it reached the throne room floor. Malvorian then twisted his palm and the lift began to rotate.

  Thurvin stumbled, startled. “What’s this?”

  Malvorian chuckled. “Watch.”

  As the rear panel turned from the wall, it revealed a hidden opening. Inside was darkness, inky black and foreboding. The light from the throne room torches shone just enough to reveal the hint of a descending stairwell.

  The w
izard lord released the energy construct and replaced it with a simple construct of illusion, transforming it into a ball of pale blue light that hovered above his palm.

  “Come,” Malvorian said as he stepped off the lift and passed through the doorway.

  The ball of light gave shape to the curving stairwell as the two wizards descended. The walls were smooth and seamless, as were the stairs. Down and down they went, deeper than both the palace basement and dungeon. Those levels existed in other parts of the palace, but this portion had been solid rock until recent years – until the arrival of the dwarf.

  The stairs ended at a short corridor. Malvorian followed it and stepped into the chamber. Thurvin stopped beside him, gaping at his surroundings.

  High above, stalactites clung to the cavern ceiling, some dripping water into shallow pools. Here and there, mounds of calcium had formed stalagmites, dotting the smooth cavern floor. In the distance, a few hundred feet away, was an opening.

  With Malvorian in the lead, the two wizards crossed the cavern, weaving around the pools and rock formations. The gray cavern walls glittered with metals and minerals, reflecting Malvorian’s light until he released it, the ball of magic fading into the ether.

  Dim light came through the opening ahead. Without pausing, Malvorian entered the narrow tunnel and emerged into another chamber. There, he found the dwarf, bent over a large, blue gem resting on a workbench made of stone.

  The dwarf had red hair and a thick, red beard tied into two braids. With beady eyes and a bulbous nose, he was not attractive.

  No matter, Malvorian thought. Nobody ever sees him anyway.

  “Algoron,” said Malvorian. “It is time.”

  The dwarf pulled his hands from the sapphire and turned toward the wizard lord. “Very well.” Algoron stood, dusting his hands against his trousers. “I have five gems crafted – enough to lay claim to all of Ghealdor.”

  A grin spread across Malvorian’s face. “I would see them.”

  With a wave, Algoron beckoned him to follow. Malvorian and Thurvin trailed the short, stocky dwarf across the chamber. At the rear, shelves had been carved into the stone walls. Algoron reached for one such shelf and pulled out a blue gem. When the dwarf spun around and held it toward Malvorian, the wizard lord accepted it with both hands, his eyes filled with wonder as he stared at the masterpiece.