Dariak focused, attempting to trace the lines of force from the jades, ever wondering what drew them to Kitalla as she leaped and danced about. He had never fully understood the depth of her skill and he regretted that their journey hadn’t allowed him the time that was necessary to do so. When he perished, his curiosity would have to fall to some other mage who could perhaps help Kitalla learn the true nature of her power and thus complete her reason for joining his quest in the first place. And together they could explore her connection to the Forgotten Tribe.
His mind was wandering, he realized, and he drew a few careful breaths, steadying his thoughts and bringing himself back to the present. Kitalla’s movements were powerful but carefully controlled. She rose up onto her toes, stretching her arms outward as she bent sideways, one leg rising in counterbalance. With a subtle bend and flick of her knee, her body turned ever so slightly. The tiny hops were barely noticeable as she pivoted around, holding her other limbs tight.
Dariak likened her stance to one of the massive trees in Astrith’s forest to the west of Castle Hathreneir. The trunks were immensely powerful yet they wafted ever so gently in the breeze. He needed that strength for himself now, as events drew closer to him. He didn’t know how he would be able to keep the two kings from warring when they arrived, but he had to find a way.
The group had striven to set up safe traps for the Kallisorian forces, including some covered trenches designed to slow them down. Dariak had used the water jade to gather moisture into large vats that could be emptied into the outpost or outside of it if fires raged errantly. The process had also encouraged him to tap into the earth jade to create sluices in the stone walls that would bring the water where it would be needed most. Each sluice had a control rigged up near the vats and anyone could open them to let the water flow. Though his own connection to magic allowed him to draw upon the energies more directly, his immediate goal was to remind the jades of their prowess.
Kitalla moaned suddenly, and Dariak shook himself alert again. The tall tree was wilting; Kitalla’s moves were no longer strong and sure. The jades had pulled too much from her and she hadn’t been able to stop the dance. Her body bounded about now, still generating the energies, but whatever peaceful landscape she had been envisioning was now likely ravaged with broken chasms and fire raining from the sky.
Dariak remained calm, drawing in a deep, steadying breath. As he exhaled, he pushed his arms out in front of him and swept them in complete circles, as if wiping dust off a long-forgotten table. He breathed again and repeated the gesture, focusing his thoughts upon the jades that surrounded him. At first they ignored him, but his continuous sweeps distracted them and they turned their efforts toward the mild energy cyclone he was making as he sat there.
With the influence of the jades distracted, Kitalla was able to disengage from the dance, letting her body sink to the floor, where she rolled around, trying to restore feeling in her limbs. Her chest heaved erratically as she fought to reclaim her breath.
Eventually the jades settled down and returned to their quiet states, each gently radiating a tiny sliver of its essence.
“That was close,” Kitalla huffed, pushing herself up from the floor. “What happened?”
“Kitalla, I’m sorry—” he started.
“Never mind that,” she interjected. “Just tell me what happened.”
“I couldn’t keep my mind focused.”
“I see,” she frowned. “So what does that mean? Are the jades getting too strong?”
He shrugged. “It could be connected to their increasing strength. But more than that, I think it’s got something to do with your skill itself. It’s as if your power is interfering with me directly.”
Kitalla’s brows furrowed. “But you haven’t been affected by my skill for ages now.”
“I know. I don’t know what it means.”
“I do,” she sighed. “It means I can’t help the jades anymore without risking them draining me completely.”
Dariak nodded. “I agree. Next time, I may not be able to intervene.”
Kitalla glanced down. “Dariak, what’s up with the jades?”
He turned and noticed it too. They weren’t sitting calmly by like he’d thought. Each jade was pulsating gently and with each burst the shard trembled slightly and made a soft humming noise against the floor. The earth and nature jades flickered brighter than the rest, with intermittent flashes from the water jade.
“It’s like the illusion,” Kitalla noted. “I was a giant forest, waving in the breeze with a river swirling through it. Look at them, Dariak.”
He made his way over to the nature jade and it was hot to the touch. “It’s as if they’re still seeing the illusion and empowering it.” He closed his eyes and focused his senses on reading the energies in the room. “Yes, those three in particular are resonating still. The others are periodically supporting them with energy.”
Kitalla closed her eyes and tried to see the energy flows herself, but she wasn’t as skilled as the mage at reading the patterns other than the ones she was channeling, particularly when she was exhausted. “What does it mean?”
“It’s almost like they’re talking,” he said slowly, feeling the vibrations in the air. “If I could only…” His eyes glazed over and his hand reached out as his voice faded away.
“Dariak, don’t!” Kitalla cautioned, reaching out and grabbing him. “They’ll pull you in, Dariak. You have to resist it.”
He blinked his eyes tightly a few times and shook his head. “Thank you. I—I wonder if my father felt something like that when he called all the jades together. All I wanted was to give myself over to them. And they would respond to me because I’m connected to them all. They would carry out my goals because they have the power to do so.”
Kitalla caught the haunted look in Dariak’s eyes. “It was an illusion, designed to make you forget yourself so they could use your energy to restore themselves.”
“You sound certain.”
She nodded. “It’s what they make me feel too. Can you stop them?”
Dariak closed his eyes and traced the lines of energy passing between the shards. He stretched his hands out and swept them in a path perpendicular to the energy, deflecting them outward and upward, away from the other jades. He hummed to keep himself focused on the task, but it took numerous tries to break the link between them.
A sharp pounding immediately rang in the distance. The door burst open and Verna splattered to the floor in surprise. “Are you all right?” she gasped, regaining her feet.
“Yes, why?” Kitalla asked.
“There was all this greenish light coming from the room but the door wouldn’t open. I’ve been banging on it for a while now trying to get your attention.”
“We didn’t hear anything,” Dariak confessed.
Kitalla bit her lip gently. “We may need to take a break from the jades for a few days, Dariak.”
“You may be right.”
Verna looked from one to the other, her face curling in frustration. “Don’t you even care why I came?”
“Oh!” Dariak gasped. “I thought it was because you saw the light.”
“No,” she replied. “Prethos is here, or will be by morning. And…” She let her voice drift off, her eyes sinking low.
“And?” Kitalla prompted.
“It looks like he isn’t alone.”
Chapter 38
Gabrion’s Return
Three hundred and fifty fighters arrived at the outpost, each bearing the crest of King Prethos of Hathreneir. In addition, there were over a hundred mages, whose robes also bore the king’s insignia. At the head of the procession were the king himself and Gabrion.
The companions met the arrivals with mixed emotions. Randler found a battle horn and used it to toot a triumphant tune. Ruhk and Verna stood erect, eying the newcomers, wondering if everyone would behave themselves. The Kallisorian healers tucked themselves away in their sanctuary, determined to let Dariak intr
oduce them at a later time.
As nervous as the healers were, the moment was even more intense for Dariak and Kitalla. For the mage, it signaled that his quest was nearly over. For the thief, it meant meeting Gabrion again, and she had no idea how to look him in the eye after the time she had spent in Carrus’ arms. Though part of her felt it was of no concern of his, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she had betrayed him, again.
Gabrion dismounted from his horse and approached Dariak, throwing his arms around the mage in a deep embrace. “I have been so lost, my friend.”
Dariak returned the gesture and held the warrior tightly. “You have been found once more.”
Kitalla stepped over, determined to put an end to her angst. “You seem to be one baby short since the last time we met.”
Gabrion accepted the taunt and gave her a sad smile. “He’s safe for now, but it won’t last if we don’t put an end to the fighting. I was wrong to leave you all. We have work to do here.”
Kitalla blinked uncertainly. “Gabrion…”
“It’s all okay, Kitalla,” he said, taking her hand and squeezing it gently. “I now know what you did to me was for the best. We wouldn’t have survived that attack otherwise.”
Prethos strode up. “Surely this is not the time for such things. I believe matters are more pressing.”
“It’s true,” Verna said. “You’re here now, but we’re bound to be very busy very soon.”
“Lupinoes?” Kitalla asked hopefully.
“No,” Verna answered seriously, her face a mask of stone. “A host of fighters come from the southeast.”
Chills ran down Dariak’s spine and he absent-mindedly shoved his hands into his robes and felt around for the jades. Time was slipping away from him.
Ruhk saluted his king. “Sire! We can show you to the command center of the outpost.”
“No,” Prethos denied, raising curious glances from the companions. “I am here in support of your quest, Dariak. You have my compliance with your rules. If I were to enter this structure, it would be an unforgivable act in the mind of Kallion. I will remain here with my warriors and take whatever action you deem necessary to your cause.”
“But sire,” Ruhk argued.
“Thank you,” Dariak cut in. “Your dedication is inspired, my liege.”
Prethos turned to Gabrion. “Your friend here has ensured me that my son is safe in the Undying Stone. He also reminded me that we have a duty to our futures, not just to ourselves. I am hopeful, Dariak, that your plan succeeds here this day. After the things I have seen among my people, I believe it is time for a true change in matters.”
“What if it means you lose your title of king?” Kitalla asked.
“Ever the prickly one, aren’t you?” Prethos returned with the hint of a smile. “Nonetheless, if your efforts here succeed, then I will do what is necessary to maintain the peace throughout Hathreneir. If that means abdicating my throne, then I will. Having my son taken from me, though harsh, was what I needed to realize how important he is to me. The events that have played out at the Undying Stone and in my own castle have made me understand that my land is not as safe as I had thought. My son’s future matters more than anything. Show us all a new way, Dariak and friends, and I will follow.”
Prethos saluted the companions and returned to his fighters, calling out orders to set up camp and basic defenses. With the Kallisorian forces not far away, he wanted his place on the field secured. A few tents were hoisted quickly in preparation for casualties and to dole out supplies. The fighters noshed on small snacks and drinks, though some skipped the food and turned to limbering up for battle.
Along the journey to the outpost, Gabrion had spoken at length to the king about their adventures and the lessons he had learned along the way. Prethos, in turn, had given Gabrion free rein over the fighters, allowing him to deliver marching orders and instructions for battle. Everyone understood that they were not to kill the Kallisorians if at all possible. The mages were ready with their healing spells and defensive walls. The fighters were armored well and protected with shields. They all knew it was likely that the Kallisorians would strive their best to slay them, but Gabrion had challenged them to be ever stronger by overpowering their foe without any fatalities.
Randler tried to get Dariak to eat something, but the imminent arrival of the kings had sent him into a panic. The black-haired mage muttered randomly, pacing about the outpost. He fidgeted with the jades, pulling out one after another, asking them random questions and hoping that his urgent pleas would be met with answers.
Unable to console the man, Randler left him alone, seeking the others and trying to keep himself calm. “Is everything ready?” he asked.
Gabrion tilted his head once sharply. “The Hathren forces will not strike except to defend themselves. The mages are prepared to heal any wounds they can and to deflect any spells that may come our way.”
“Spells,” Randler echoed. “Do you really think Kallion will bring mages?”
“His father did in the War of the Colossus. It isn’t unlikely to happen again.”
Ruhk cleared his throat. “As long as the Hathrens are truly on our side now, then it gives us a chance.”
“Maybe,” Verna shrugged. “It’s still two factions vying for power.”
“Better than three!” Kitalla interjected, agitated with the conversation.
“Still, it feels a lot like the histories are mocking us,” Verna commented. “Like we’re all here to try to change things but the books are going to laugh at us saying, ‘oh look, they did it all again.’ How is it even possible we’ve got both kings meeting here now?”
Randler shrugged. “There are certainly cycles through history,” he said. “But they don’t all end the same way. This is our chance to write a new chapter.”
“What happens if they fight?” Ruhk asked.
“Our forces will defend,” Gabrion said.
“And if Kallisor persists?”
“Then Dariak unites the jades,” Randler whispered.
Kitalla met his gaze and the two of them realized they each knew the implications of that. They swallowed hard and Kitalla added, “Let’s try to keep things calm so the fighting doesn’t even happen.”
“It’s a shame Carrus could not be here with us at this moment,” Gabrion said solemnly.
They all tilted their heads down. “I wonder what he would say?” Ruhk muttered.
Kitalla forced a laugh. “He probably wouldn’t say much of anything. He’d just wait for it all to happen and then he’d step in and get things done.” She risked a glance at Gabrion.
They had only spoken briefly after entering the outpost, but enough had been said. The warrior saluted. “Carrus fought with all his heart, as I did until my grave error in the Hathren castle when Mira fell at my hands. Since then, I’ve been lost and confused about everything. Protecting Perrios reminded me of why I took on this journey in the first place. I have regrets,” he admitted. “Some very deep regrets. But I don’t intend to keep looking back now. We have work to do and it will begin before we even know what’s happening. I want you all to know that I’m back with you for a reason. I’m here to fight. I won’t let you down.”
“Gabrion…”
A horn sounded in the distance; the Kallisorian troops announced themselves. Dariak hurried downstairs to the others and the companions reached together, joining hands in the center of where they stood. They met each other’s eyes and confirmed their resolve.
“Let’s make history,” Kitalla said, exuding more confidence than she felt inside.
Chapter 39
King Kallion
Dariak, Randler, Kitalla, Gabrion, Verna, and Ruhk all stepped from the outpost into the midday sun. The sky was a vibrant blue and the few clouds wafting overhead floated without any concern for the events unfolding below them. The brisk winter air was stifled by the sun beaming down. It had been a mild winter, but the chills the team felt had nothing to do with the temperature
.
Each companion had their favored weapons available but not at the ready. Randler’s bow and arrows were slung across his back, while his legs were buttressed by Astrith’s magical crutches. Kitalla was ready with a plethora of daggers tucked into the various folds of her leathers. On his back, Gabrion had strapped a special spiked mace, a gift from King Prethos upon his arrival to the castle. Ruhk and Verna both had blades on their hips, his slightly longer than hers. They held themselves with such poise, they seemed more ready for a grand ceremony than a potentially fatal battle.
Dariak stepped forward, his pockets brimming with spell components. Under his cloak and around his waist was the belt Randler had fashioned for him long ago after the bard joined the journey. In each pocket was one of the jades, tucked away but ready for use if needed. The shards were arranged around Dariak’s hips in the same configuration they had devised when Frast had brought the jades together. The mage could feel the energies passing from one shard to another, both around him and through him. His stomach was queasy from it, but he needed to keep them close in case everything started to fall apart.
With the mage in front, the companions stepped forward to meet the king and his envoy of thirty soldiers. The rest of the Kallisorian forces waited in their lines for their king’s commands. There were so many of them, Dariak couldn’t even see to the back of the battalion.
The king had dressed well for the occasion. His body was covered from head to toe in vibrant silks and velvets, with all the stitching laden with gems. He glimmered in the sunlight, sparkling like a giant rainbow, ready to blind them all and then decimate them. His dark hair was coifed royally upon his head, with long strands of gray hanging from the sides of his head and ending with more gemstones. As his horse moved underneath him, he rattled like a bag of marbles.
A green-and-gold-bedecked page stepped forth with a scroll and began reciting, “Hail to King Kallion of Kallisor, son of the late King Kallibron, son of the late King Kalliforth, son of—”
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