Thurvin gaped in confusion as the dwarf led the three prisoners from the antechamber, the same room where Thurvin had been hiding moments earlier. I was alone in that room.
“What is this?” Malvorian asked.
Thurvin stammered a reply, “These… These are the captives I told you about.”
Malvorian arched a brow at Thurvin. “I thought you had them locked in the dungeon.”
“I did. I swear.” Thurvin shook his head. “I saw them locked away not more than six hours ago.”
Malvorian chuckled. “It’s just as well. Let’s be done with this charade.” He nodded toward the dwarf. “You did well to bring them to me, Algoron.”
“I can’t believe you betrayed us, Uncle,” said the short, bald prisoner. Thurvin couldn’t recall the man saying more than a few words during their journey from Lionne.
“Uncle?” Malvorian asked.
“Yes, my lord,” Algoron said. “Rawkobon is my nephew. He has value and could be a boon to our cause, so I beg you to spare his life.”
“Value?”
“He hears the gemsongs. He can seek them out, help to acquire new sapphires.”
Malvorian leaned back, rubbing his palms together. “Very good.”
The third prisoner, the old man with the patchwork robes, shifted from the shadow that had been hiding his face.
“Vanda?” Malvorian exclaimed.
“You must be mistaken,” the old man said.
Thurvin had never seen Vanda’s face, but the voice sounded familiar. I can’t believe I hadn’t noticed.
Rising to his feet, the wizard lord walked closer, looking the old man up and down. “Vanda, why are you dressed in that outfit? What is with the lute?”
“I… My name is Salvon. I am a simple storyteller.” The old man shook his head. “You have me confused with someone else.”
“Listen,” Landish said, “I don’t know what’s going on here, but I have the true amulet. The one Despaldi wears is a fake. With the amulet protecting me, I killed Taladain. I deserve my payment. Give me the gold, and I’ll give you the amulet.”
Thurvin laughed. “You expect me to believe that?”
“I just want what is due to me. Two hundred fifty gold.”
“How much?” the short acrobat asked, her eyes wide.
He glanced at the woman before extending his open palm toward Thurvin. “Pay up, Whispering Man. As long as you pay, your secret is safe with me. Besides, think of how the street will respond if you don’t honor our contract.”
Thurvin laughed, Malvorian joining him. “I won’t have to worry about anything of the sort.”
Glancing toward his companions, Landish asked, “Why not?”
“Because you are about to die!”
Thurvin drew in his magic, augmented by the bracelet on his wrist, filling him with a rush. He extended his hand, formed an energy construct, and channeled the power through it.
Jace didn’t know why Rhoa, Rawk, and Salvon were in the palace, but things had spun out of control. All he wanted was to get his money and leave. “I just want what is due to me. Two hundred fifty gold.”
“How much?” Rhoa spurted.
He flashed her a look of warning, hoping she caught the signal. “Pay up, Whispering Man. As long as you pay, your secret is safe with me. Besides, think of how the street will respond if you don’t honor a contract.”
The two wizards laughed before Thurvin replied, “I won’t have to worry about anything of the sort.”
Turning toward Narine and Adyn, Jace flashed them a look of warning before he turned back toward Thurvin. By the gods, I pray this amulet protects me again. “Why not?”
“Because you are about to die!”
Thurvin extended his hands, his eyes alight with fury. Jace charged at the man. Ropes of raw energy lashed out and passed through him, leaving him unharmed. Thurvin gaped. Jace drew the knives hidden up his sleeves and released them. Both blades flew past the wizard. The first struck a guard in the eye, the other clanging off a hastily raised shield. Jace drew his dagger from his belt and lunged, slicing across Thurvin’s stomach, tearing through the wizard’s robes and skin as he spun past the throne.
Despaldi drew his sword and lunged, but he locked up mid-swing as Narine’s magic held him frozen, her illusion of Frella falling away to reveal her true self. Adyn attacked the guards in the aisle, her blades spinning as she ducked, dodged, and moved like a woman possessed. Clangs, grunts, and cries rang out. In mere breaths, both men were down…one dead, the other writhing in agony.
Malvorian stood and roared, “Enough!”
With both arms sweeping out, magic lashed through the room, taking out everyone’s legs. Narine, Adyn, Despaldi, Algoron, Rawk, and the remaining guard all fell to the floor, hard. Only Rhoa and Jace remained upright. Salvon was nowhere in sight, and Jace assumed the man had fled to the neighboring room.
When Jace took a step toward the wizard lord, the man twisted his wrist and launched the throne at him. Jace dove to the side, but it clipped his legs, sending him spinning to the floor, his back slamming against a bench.
Groaning, Jace pushed himself up. His leg hurt as he bent it, the pain not as bad as he feared. Not broken. Rising to his knees, he turned toward the wizard lord.
Malvorian glared at Rhoa, his fingers crackling with magic. “You are the acrobat, the one reported to have killed Taladain.” He sneered, “You may have dodged my magic, but you will not avoid this.”
He thrust his hands toward her, unleashing a stream of blue-tinted fire, bright enough to blind anyone facing it.
While climbing to his feet, Jace raised his arm to block the bright beam of light, spots dancing in front of his eyes. When he lowered his arm, Rhoa stood before Malvorian, unharmed. The wizard lord staggered back, his face twisted in confusion.
“I don’t understand. Nothing can withstand foulfire. Nothing.”
Behind Rhoa, the foulfire had burned a hole through the wall, three feet in diameter, the ragged edges still smoking. Rhoa took a step forward, and Malvorian held his palms out, locking everyone into a stasis, even Rhoa.
Yet Jace remained unaffected. We need to get out of here.
Moving quietly, he picked up a broken piece of the throne, an armrest, thick and solid. Gripping it, he circled behind Malvorian while the wizard remained focused on Rhoa, who appeared frozen like the others, her eyes flicking from Jace to the wizard lord.
Malvorian laughed. “Now, little woman, you die.”
With a mighty swing, Jace struck the wizard lord in the back of the head, the thud echoing in the quiet room. Malvorian collapsed and lay still. Immediately, the others in the room began to move.
Jace dropped the chair armrest with a sigh. “I’m glad that’s over with.”
“Look out!” Rhoa shouted as something struck Jace from behind.
He staggered forward as agonizing pain seared through him, leaving him unable to breathe. Looking down, he saw a bloody sword tip emerging from his stomach. The sword receded with a wet, sucking sound. He fell to his knees with his hand clutching the wound, gaping in shock. He wobbled, the room tilting until everything went black.
Narine held Despaldi motionless as Adyn stood beside her, a sword in one hand and a dagger in the other. Malvorian drove a wedge of compressed air outward, striking her in the legs. She fell and hit hard, the air blasting from her lungs. With effort, she crawled to her knees as the wizard lord gathered his magic, the man glowing like a beacon. He then unleashed foulfire. Narine gasped as the raging magic engulfed Rhoa. Yet, just as happened with her father, Rhoa was unharmed by the lethal spell.
Malvorian gaped. “I don’t understand. Nothing can withstand foulfire. Nothing.”
He then unleashed a stasis spell, taking control of Narine and everyone else in the room. Even Rhoa, who stood mere strides from Malvorian, appeared unable to move. It took everything I had to hold one man frozen, yet he controls everyone in the room without effort. It took immense magic to hold ev
eryone in place, especially after unleashing foulfire, a vastly draining energy spell.
Wait. Narine noticed movement beyond the wizard lord. The spell didn’t affect everyone.
Malvorian laughed. “Now, little woman, you die.”
The wizard lord did not notice Jace sneaking up from behind. The thief struck him in the head, felling the man in one blow. Narine stumbled forward, suddenly able to move.
“I’m glad that’s over with,” Jace said.
A man in armor appeared behind Jace and lunged forward just as Rhoa shouted a warning. A blade tip emerged from Jace’s stomach, slick with blood. Narine gasped, her eyes bulging in horror, his in shock.
“No!” Narine cried as Jace collapsed. Her hand clutching her own heart, she staggered as if she, herself, had been stabbed.
Rhoa struck the guard from behind, her enchanted blades searing through his back until the tips appeared through both chest plates, crackling with blue sparks. Eyes glazed, the guard was dead before he hit the floor.
Distracted, Narine forgot about Despaldi. Freed from her magic, the man lunged toward her with an overhead swing of his blade. With death crashing down on her, she scrambled to draw in magic and form a construct, but she knew it would be too late.
But then Adyn was there, blocking the man’s overhand stroke. She kicked him in the stomach, driving him backward. He sliced at Adyn, his blade moving lightning fast as she used her sword and dagger to defend herself. Both fighters moved quickly. Adyn’s blades spinning and slashing, Despaldi’s flicking from side to side, blocking every stroke. Altering the path of his sword, the tip sliced her upper arm, causing her to drop her dagger and retreat. He surged ahead, sneering, his blade a flurry of cutting strokes and thrusts, forcing Adyn backward.
By then, Narine had regained control of her magic, but also felt her energy waning. Using a mental manipulation construct on Despaldi, she imprinted him with the impression of a soldier attacking from behind. He shifted and looked backward, the distraction allowing Adyn’s blade to pierce the man’s shoulder.
“Argh!” he cried and staggered backward.
Adyn pressed forward, the man’s left arm hanging limply while he fought her off. Spinning, she kicked low, but he leapt. Her blade followed, but he blocked it. Distracted by her assault, he did not see Rawk behind him.
The stone-shaper bent and used his magic to scoop a chunk of tile-covered stone from the floor and struck the much taller man in the back of the head. Despaldi fell face-first, his blade clattering to the floor.
Adyn darted in and grabbed the man’s sword before he could recover. Her eyes grew wide. She looked around and blinked until Despaldi stirred, the man moaning.
“This sword… It has magic,” Adyn muttered. She then recovered and held both swords ready. “Get up, Despaldi.”
The man rose to his hands and knees, wobbling as he stood. His head and shoulder were bleeding badly, the back of his head and forehead oozing crimson, the front of his uniform blood-soaked from his shoulder wound.
“Sit on a bench,” Adyn growled. When he hesitated, she said, “I will kill you if I must.”
Despaldi complied, sitting heavily, not appearing in any shape to fight.
Narine ran to Jace and knelt at his side. Tears ran down her face as she rolled him over. His skin was cold, and he wheezed. Thank Gheald. He still lives. Hovering her hand over his stomach, she drew in her magic while picturing a construct of repair. Channeling the power through the construct, she attempted to heal him, but his injuries were beyond her skill and she neared exhaustion. The result sealed the external wounds, but he still bled inside.
Through tear-blurred vision, she stared down at him and caressed his face. His eyes remained closed, his breathing shallow. Please, you cannot die. Not now. Not… I have finally found someone who makes me laugh. The irony of it all made her sob, her heart breaking over what might have been.
The others gathered, their sympathetic gazes on her. Beyond them, Malvorian lay unconscious, and Thurvin was curled in a ball, whimpering in pain.
Her gaze then landed on the bracelet clamped around Thurvin’s arm.
She pushed past Rawk and Rhoa, scrambling to kneel beside Thurvin.
“Help me,” he moaned. “My stomach… The pain… You can heal me.”
Narine grabbed at his arm, pulling it away from his bloody stomach as she fumbled with the bracelet.
“No. No,” he whined. “You can’t take it.”
She was desperate and would not be denied. Weakened by his wound, his attempt to fight back was pathetic. When the bracelet clicked open, she yanked it off his wrist and snapped it around her own. She hurried back to Jace while grappling for magic.
The force of the power flowing into her made her gasp. It was as if a dam had been removed – any prior use of magic a trickle now became a roaring river. With a construct of repair projecting from her open palm, she placed it over Jace’s wounds and channeled the magic through it. His back arched and eyes flew open, mouth gaping in a silent scream. Narine knew healing hurt, a brute force method of repairing the body, but she would not allow him to die, regardless of the cost.
The silent scream became a loud one, echoing throughout the throne room in a moment of violent agony. He then collapsed, unconscious, but his breathing normal again. Tears flowed down Narine’s face, but this time, they were tears of relief.
She wiped her eyes and looked up as Salvon approached.
“Where have you been?” Rhoa asked.
The old man blinked. “Oh. I ran and hid in the antechamber.” He shook his head. “You don’t live to be my age without knowing when to fight and when to hide.”
Narine laughed. Rhoa, Adyn, and Rawk joined her while the short man with the red beard scratched his head.
“I don’t understand any of this,” the man said.
“Algoron,” Salvon said. “Perhaps it is time to find another pursuit. Your desire to help your people seems honest…” The old man turned his narrowed eyes on Malvorian, unconscious, and Thurvin, curled up and bleeding, “but it appears your co-conspirators have unworthy intentions.”
“Come with us, Uncle. Leave this place.” Rawk’s face soured. “And these people.”
Algoron shook his head. “I kept telling myself it was for the best, but what has happened here… I cannot remain a part of this.”
Rawk gripped the man’s shoulder as he grinned. “Thank you.”
“Can you two carry him?” Narine asked. “After what he just experienced, he won’t be conscious for hours.”
“Can’t you just…” Rhoa wiggled her fingers, “wizard him along or something?”
Narine rolled her eyes. “Come on. Let’s hurry before Malvorian wakes.”
“Perhaps we should kill him,” Algoron suggested.
“What good would it do?” Rhoa asked. “Another would replace him, and Farrowen’s conquest of Ghealdor would continue.”
While some nodded, nobody replied. Instead, Rawk and Algoron picked Jace up and carried him toward the antechamber.
“Where are you going?” Narine asked.
“There is another way out,” Algoron said. “One nobody knows about, nor can they follow.”
So they left Malvorian, Thurvin, Despaldi, and the dead guards behind.
The door to the antechamber closed, the room falling silent. With one hand across his midriff, Thurvin rolled to his side. His wound was not deep, but it ran all the way across his stomach, searing with pain.
“Despaldi,” Thurvin said through clenched teeth.
“Yes,” said the captain from his seat on the bench, his voice strained.
“All the wizards are gone from Marquithe, save one. An old woman on Huron Street. Her name is Bromilda. Send a carriage to bring her here. She might be unable to walk, but she can heal us.”
Despaldi rose and lumbered down the aisle, holding his bloody shoulder. When the door closed, Thurvin dragged himself across the floor, one arm clutching his torn stomach, the other pu
lling him forward. The pain was excruciating, but he grit his teeth and continued until he lay beside the unconscious wizard lord.
“This was your fault. You were too arrogant with your power.” Thurvin glared at Malvorian. The man’s eyes were closed, his dark hair matted with sparkling blood. In that moment, Thurvin made a decision. “I will not make the same mistake.”
He pulled himself onto Malvorian, placed his forearm across the man’s exposed throat, and pushed down with all his weight. Malvorian coughed and choked, his body convulsing. His eyes flickered open, rolling and bulging as he attempted to gasp for air. The man tried to fight back, one hand feebly grabbing Thurvin by the hair, the other attempting to push him away. Those hands soon fell limp. Even after the struggle had ended, Thurvin kept his weight on the man’s throat. He would not fail.
The bracelet had given Thurvin a taste of true power. Without it, the world felt flat and dull. Soon, he would have access to magic far surpassing that of the bracelet, power beyond every wizard in the world. In six days, the full Darkening would happen in Marquithe, too soon for Forca or any of the other wizards to return, leaving Thurvin to claim the throne uncontested.
In six days, Thurvin Arnolle would become the wizard lord of Farrowen…and beyond.
20
Jealousy
With her head dizzy from the rush of magic coursing through her, Narine followed Algoron and Rawk, who still carried Jace. The glowing orb of light in her palm faintly illuminated the dark tunnels, casting shadows in all directions. The bracelet hung loose on her wrist and had slid halfway to her elbow, but she couldn’t imagine ever taking it off. The power was such that just the slightest trickle was enough to feed the illusion spell, creating the light. It was intoxicating.
They came to an incline, the tunnel curving as it rose upward. The two men before her stopped at a dead end as Algoron settled Jace against Rawk.
“Don’t drop him,” Narine said.
Rawk grunted in reply, his arms wrapped about the unconscious thief as Jace’s arms and head drooped over his broad shoulders.
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