Fate of Wizardoms Boxed Set

by Jeffrey L. Kohanek

  Algoron laughed. “You say it as if ambition is a bad thing.”

  She grew angry. “He will bring war to the world.”

  “Yes, and with war comes change.”

  Rhoa stood and glared at the man. “You would see thousands killed for the sake of change?”

  He shook his head. “Not just any change. It will bring about a new future.”

  “Do you speak of prophecy?” Salvon asked. “You have visited Kelmar?”

  “No,” Algoron replied. “But the man who put me on this path has been there, has met with the witches. He knows things. He knew of my banishment…and my unique condition. He has set Malvorian on a path to rule the eight wizardoms. With him in control, Malvorian will help me bring a new rule to Ghen Aeldor with him as their god.”

  Rawk gasped. “You are mad.”

  “No, Rawkobon. I am enlightened. How long have the Makers hid beneath the mountain, unable to see anything of the world? Is it not time for us to return to the surface where we lived so many centuries ago?”

  Rawk looked down at the cavern floor, his gaze rising to meet Rhoa’s. “I would have never met Rhoa if I had not left Ghen Aeldor. She is my friend.” His brow furrowed in thought. “There are other wonders I have seen, as well. Perhaps it is time for the Makers to return to the surface.”

  Algoron nodded. “Yet we are taught that Vandasal requires us to remain underground, away from mankind, as if they are some sort of disease.”

  Rhoa watched Rawk, who appeared to be considering Algoron’s logic. “It might be time for your people to return to the outside world, but the price is too steep to pay. Malvorian thirsts for power and cares nothing for your people.”

  Salvon stroked his beard, speaking in a thoughtful voice, “Ancient history is filled with rulers who seek more power. Only the last few hundred years lack acts of such ambition. Perhaps Malvorian’s conquest is merely an act long overdue. Inevitable, save for when it would occur.”

  She glared at Salvon in disbelief. “How can you justify Malvorian’s actions?”

  “Think on this, Rhoa,” Salvon offered. “Wizards rule man already. Would it be so bad if one wizard ruled over all the wizardoms? The people of Farrowen appear well-treated, their economy thriving. Even with the Immolation ceremony, Farrowen exclusively chooses from among condemned criminals, which is far better than the lottery that took your parents.”

  Mentioning her parents struck a chord. A shift in rule that would eliminate the lottery would be a gift to Ghealdans. Rhoa considered what she had seen of Marquithe and the rest of Farrowen, not recalling a law or situation that was worse than the other wizardoms she had visited. Why should I care if the other wizard lords are overthrown? There was one element to the scheme she could not resolve, though.

  “What of those who would die in the struggle?” she asked. “How many innocents must pay for one man’s power?”

  Salvon nodded. “I understand your concern, but sometimes people die so others might enjoy a better future.”

  She shook her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you are siding with him, Salvon.”

  The old man stood and put his hands on her shoulders. “I am not saying it is right, Rhoa. I am merely stating facts.”

  Rhoa released a sigh, her anger deflating with it. “I don’t understand any of this. I just wish to get far from Marquithe and the fighting.”

  “Yes.” Algoron rose to his feet. “I will guide you out of here. Malvorian believes there is only one way in and out of these caves. He doesn’t know I crafted an alternate route.”

  He placed his hand on the back wall. A circular section of stone rolled to the side. Rhoa gaped, the doorway having been invisible until the stone moved.

  “Follow me.” Algoron looked Rawk in the eye. “Leave the gem, Rawkobon.” He then disappeared into the dark opening.

  Rhoa glanced at Rawk, who stared at the giant sapphire while seeming to fight some internal struggle. She shifted between him and the gem, drawing his attention with her hand on his shoulder.

  “You can do this, Rawk. I will support you, but I need your help to get out of here.”

  With a sad nod, he turned toward the dark tunnel. Once inside, all light fell away.

  “Careful.” Rawk’s voice came from the darkness as he took her hand. “There are stairs.”

  Rhoa reached back and felt for Salvon. He gripped her other hand as they began an ascent. All was quiet, except for their footsteps on the stone and the rasping of their breath. After some time, the stairs ended. They followed a tunnel and stopped.

  A click sounded and a strip of light appeared, widening as a stone door swung inward. Algoron stepped out, followed by Rawk, Rhoa, and Salvon. It was a chamber with soft armchairs and a desk, the room lit by a single, enchanted lantern. Algoron crossed the room and opened the only other door, leading them into a massive building with a high ceiling, a dais at one end of the room, and rows of benches filling the remainder. On the dais was a throne, tall, dark…and occupied by a man in dark blue robes.

  “My lord,” Algoron said as he dipped his head. “I have located the prisoners.”

  18

  Into the Fire

  Jace paced the room, bathed, clean-shaven, and wearing fresh clothing. At least the wait for his meeting had allowed that much. Outside his window, blue beams of light connected the Marquithe Tower of Devotion with obelisks located in the other four major Farrowen cities. Jace’s brow furrowed as he peered out the window, sighting a fifth beam of light, pointing north. I have never seen that one before. The low hum of chanting across the city carried through the walls, each beat like a countdown. He dismissed his curiosity about the new beam of light and focused on his plan. It would soon be time to leave.

  In addition to allowing him time to clean up, the hour between receiving the message and Devotion had allowed him to examine his situation and consider potential ways to protect himself. The Whispering Man would know he possessed the amulet and was aware of the protection the enchanted item provided. However, Narine had proven Jace wasn’t as immune to magic as he might wish. Physical manipulation of other objects…most notably, sharp ones…could certainly cause him harm. Who knew what other loopholes existed?

  His best advantage lay with Narine and Adyn, of whom Jace doubted The Whispering Man knew. Even if Urlan had reported the women’s presence, their capabilities were likely to be underestimated.

  “There,” Urlan said from the chair in the kitchen. “Devotion is over. Will you untie me?”

  Jace stopped pacing and stared at the man. As soon as Narine had agreed to help Jace, he and Adyn had gone down to the alley and carried the unconscious man up the stairs. Urlan had stirred awake while Jace tied him to the chair, but it was too late by then. Left to his own design, the homeless man was likely to report that a wizardess was helping Jace, which would negate the advantage of surprise.

  “We are leaving, and so are you.” Jace squatted behind the man, untying him.

  “What are you going to do to me?” He didn’t even attempt to hide his fear.

  Standing upright, Jace said, “I am giving you a gift.”

  “A gift?” Urlan’s eyes were wild, bloodshot whites visible as they flicked about the room. “You aren’t going to hurt me?”

  Jace chuckled and opened the door. “Of course not. You did nothing wrong.”

  “Why tie me up then?” The man sounded doubtful.

  “To keep you out of trouble. Now, let’s go downstairs. I’ll buy you a bottle of brandy.”

  Urlan’s eyes lit up, his smile spoiled by gaps of missing teeth.

  “Wait.” Jace held his hand up, stopping the man. “The ladies will go first so you can’t run.”

  Adyn passed Jace, armed and ready as always. A stride behind her, Narine walked past, her expression resolute. Urlan and Jace followed, locking the door before descending the stairs.

  While the women waited outside, Jace brought Urlan into The Blue Hen, bought him a brandy, and rushed back ou
t the door. They then walked down dark streets lit only by candlelight seeping through an occasional window and enchanted lanterns at each intersection. He guided them uphill until they reached the wall outside the palace. Two guards were posted at the palace gate. One man was not much taller than Jace but carried twice the bulk, appearing heavy and thick in his silver-plated armor. Standing a few inches taller, the other man had short, black hair, a black beard, and a hardened scowl. Both wore the dark blue capes of the Midnight Guard.

  “I was requested for a meeting at the palace,” Jace said.

  “Your name?” the taller man asked.

  “Jerrell Landish.”

  The other guard nodded. “He matches the description.”

  “Who are these two?” The man pointed at Adyn and Narine.

  “This is Ada, my new bodyguard. Professional hazards require such things these days.”

  “And the old woman?”

  Jace looked at Narine, her body and face altered to appear startlingly like Frella.

  “I’m his landlord,” Narine said, her fists on her hips. “He owes me half a year’s rent, and I’m here to make sure he doesn’t sneak off with the money he is to be rewarded until I get mine.” She leaned closer, looking up at the taller guard with a challenging glare. “You wouldn’t deprive an old woman of what she is due, would you?”

  The guard grunted and stepped aside. “Go on in. Ask for Captain Despaldi.”

  “Captain of the Midnight Guard?” Jace grew more concerned, recalling Despaldi’s quest to locate the amulet. I wish I had the fake one, as well, he thought, considering the deception he could cause with it.

  “Yes. He will escort you to your meeting.”

  “Thank you.”

  Crossing the plaza, leading the two women toward the building, Jace thought it odd that neither he nor Adyn had been asked to surrender their weapons, or at least the visible ones. He dug the amulet from his coat pocket and slid the cord over his head, tucking it beneath his tunic. Instantly, the illusion disappeared like a popped bubble, the image of ugly, old Frella replaced by Narine’s beauty, at least to Jace’s perception.

  He grinned, knowing magic no longer affected him. He patted his tunic where the amulet lay underneath. At least I have this to protect me.

  At the east end of the palace complex was the temple. Jace had visited the temple on three occasions, all of them Darkening ceremonies reminiscent of the one he and Rhoa had attended in Fastella. The memory stirred two separate thoughts.

  The Darkening of Marquithe was fast approaching, and any prisoners occupying the dungeon cells could find themselves the reluctant stars of the Immolation ceremony. While Jace agreed sacrificing criminals was preferred to the method used in Ghealdor, he often worried it might be he someday…if he were ever unlucky enough to get caught.

  Also nagging at him was worry for the friends he had left behind in Starmuth – Rhoa, Rawk, and Salvon. He had thought little of them since his hasty flight from the city, but he now wondered what had become of his former companions. I’m sure they are fine, he told himself. Their lives were heading down a different path than yours anyway. Still, he could not shake a sense of concern.

  Climbing the stairs, he spoke to the guard at the door, asking for Despaldi. The man opened the door and told him to wait inside.

  The receiving hall was massive with a tall, arched ceiling and stained-glass windows along the front. The floor was crafted from polished, black marble tiles, reflecting the light from enchanted lanterns much larger than the one Jace owned. It was among the few stolen items he had retained. That, and the dagger at his hip, a trinket he had discovered among a pile of discarded weapons in an old castle.

  Minutes passed as the three of them lingered in the hall. Rather than speaking, they remained acutely aware of their surroundings. The patter of footsteps arose, and Jace turned toward the sound. A man in his mid-thirties, tall, with dark hair and a thin mustache, approached. He wore a dark blue military uniform, pressed and pristine. A curved sword dangled from one hip, the man’s hand on the pommel. He was trailed by two of the Midnight Guard.

  The man stopped three paces from Jace. “Mister Landish, I presume.”

  Jace gave a shallow nod. “We are men of action, Despaldi. No need to pretend you don’t know me.”

  “Yes. Agreed.” His gaze shifted to the women beside Jace. “Who are your guests?”

  “Ada is my new bodyguard. She is quick with a sword and sharp with her tongue, both suitable to my needs.” He turned toward Narine. “This is Frella, the owner of The Blue Hen and my landlord.” His face soured as he turned toward Despaldi. “The woman insisted on joining me.”

  “Landish owes me rent,” Narine said in a gruff voice. “Once I get my coin, I’ll be out of your hair.”

  “I see,” Despaldi said, his focus returning to Jace. “Your ability to ruffle the feathers of others continues to outstrip your legendary feats, Landish.”

  “I do what I can,” Jace said. “Now, where is this meeting? I would like to get my gold and go home. I haven’t slept in my own bed for weeks.”

  “Follow me.” Despaldi spun on his heel and began walking across the hall. The two guards stared at them, waiting.

  Narine clasped Jace by the wrist. He turned toward her, and she whispered into his ear, “Something is ahead. Magic. Extremely powerful.”

  He pressed his lips together, gathered resolve, and followed Despaldi, the two women shadowing him. The guards followed, creating an uncomfortable procession.

  By nature, Jace was calm in the face of danger. Living most of his life on the edge had hardened him to such concerns. The twisting in his stomach reflected his estimate of the low probability of surviving this meeting. With Despaldi added to the equation, things had grown murkier.

  Two guards bracketed a tall set of doors, and Despaldi stopped a stride before them.

  “Nobody enters.” The captain’s tone was harsh, certain to be followed. “Nobody, regardless of what happens, regardless of what you hear.”

  The two men thumped fists to their chests. “Yes, Captain.”

  Despaldi forged ahead, leading them into a massive chamber, the arched ceiling four stories above. Benches lined the chamber, split by an aisle carpeted in dark blue. At the far end of the room was a dais, illuminated by two torches burning with blue flames. A throne sat on the dais, occupied by a man in robes.

  Narine gasped. Jace turned toward her as she whispered, “He holds magic, his strength outstripping even my father’s.”

  “Lord Malvorian,” Despaldi announced as he stopped and bowed his head. “I have brought the thief as requested.”

  Jace had feared Malvorian’s involvement when he was requested to meet at the palace, yet he had hoped otherwise. Now he had no choice but to deal with the wizard lord.

  How do I get myself into these things?

  What have we gotten ourselves into? Narine thought as she followed Jace down the aisle.

  The glow of power surrounding Malvorian forced her to squint. Still, she maintained her illusion, feeding it with a trickle of magic so slight, nobody should notice unless they actually touched her. She spotted two of the Midnight Guard standing behind the throne. At the same time, the two guards lurking behind her made her itch to turn toward them for fear of treachery. She suspected Adyn felt the same.

  We are surrounded and outnumbered with a wizard lord as judge.

  When they reached the front of the room, Jace bowed. “Lord Malvorian. I didn’t realize you would be attending this meeting.”

  Malvorian chuckled, yet it wasn’t a pleasant sound. “Little happens in Marquithe without my knowledge and blessing. Don’t doubt I have heard of your exploits.”

  “I am flattered,” Jace said, then looked around. “Is my contact here? I simply wish to close the contract and be on my way.”

  Another chuckle from the wizard lord, this one making a chill slide up Narine’s spine. “The Whispering Man?”

  “Yes.”

/>   Malvorian’s voice rose. “Thurvin! Join us!”

  A door to the side of the room opened. A short man with a narrow face and dark hair entered. By his robes, Narine knew he was a wizard.

  “Hello, Jerrell,” the man said.

  “Chancellor Arnolle,” Jace replied in an even tone. “Your rise to rule the city’s underbelly now makes sense.”

  “Yes,” Thurvin said as he settled beside the throne. “Having the proper connections is oft beneficial to one’s career.”

  “I see you have new jewelry,” Jace said. “Gurgan no longer had a use for it?”

  Thurvin appeared surprised, his brows shooting up as he glanced toward his arm.

  “My, my.” Malvorian nodded. “I am impressed, Landish.”

  “You don’t survive long in my line of work on luck alone.”

  “Yes.” Thurvin lifted his arm, twisting the bracelet. “With this, my power exceeds all but a wizard lord.”

  Jace leaned toward Narine and whispered, “The bracelet Thurvin wears is enchanted. It gives him added magic.”

  Her eyes grew wide. “Such a thing exists?”

  Jace ignored the question and addressed the room. “I don’t care about any of this. I am only here to collect payment due.”

  Thurvin laughed. “You deserve no payment. You were paid to retrieve the amulet, but we already possess it.”

  With a furrowed brow, Jace asked, “What are you talking about?”

  “Despaldi, show him.”

  The captain dug beneath his collar and pulled out an amulet just like the one Jace wore.

  “That’s not possible,” Jace said, turning toward the dais. “I have the amulet. I killed Taladain.”

  The door Thurvin had emerged from opened again. A short, stocky man with a red beard appeared, followed by three others.

  “My lord,” the man said in a deep voice. “I have located the prisoners.”

  As one, Narine, Adyn, and Jace gasped.

  19

  The Price of Power