The Celestial King

by L Ward

  Nath swallowed and Evan realised his teeth were gritted. “I’ll be fine as long as we return before sundown.”

  So it was beyond the midnight hour. Today was the full moon, barely half of the plan had been executed and they were trapped in a grotto by a torrential rainstorm.

  Evan felt sick. He focused his magic, and with a sharp prod sent Nath over the edge into what he hoped would be a lasting sleep.

  They settled back down, but only a few hours passed before he and Will were both woken by Nath again, struggling, agitated and seemingly in the midst of a nightmare. Evan had never seen this before.

  “Somethings wrong with him,” Will said quietly.

  “His lycanthropy has never been this bad,” Evan whispered.

  “There’s something he’s not telling us.”

  The words were expected but they still sent chills down Evan’s spine. “It’s probably the nighttime, maybe he’ll be better in the morning.”

  The tender glow from the fireplace illuminated Will’s chiseled face and he was sparing a don’t kid yourself kind of look.

  The restlessness continued until the early hours of the morning when the rain suddenly ceased and a dank lilac mist set about. Nath was still in a fitful sleep, breathing ragged, legs twitching restlessly, and when Evan looked closer he saw fine, silver hairs sprouting all over his neck and along his jawline.

  It wasn’t long before Nath woke, so agitated he paced the grotto, scratching his neck and scenting the air.

  They munched on what little was in their packs, Evan and Will exchanging worried looks every so often.

  “It must be too dangerous for them to send word,” he said. “Damn it!”

  “Nath, it’s mid-morning and if we don’t leave soon…” Will said slowly.

  Nath whirled on him, eyes blazing. “And, what? You propose we storm the palace as a trio, get captured and lord knows what will happen to us then?”

  “No—”

  “Or shall we leave and risk whatever hell on earth Undermouth will unleash? Mark my words, he will do it!”

  He’d never seen Nath this agitated. The fire in his eyes was becoming a storm and the shadow of a wolf slashed his handsome face.

  “What other choices do we have?”

  He fell silent, brooding and pacing around in the dirt. Evan watched, speechless and afraid.

  “We make contact and if we can’t do it, we infiltrate and demolish whatever creature is in that palace,” said Nath, jabbing a finger in the direction of the fortress. “We’ve little other choice.”

  ∞∞∞

  No response came.

  Evan and Will sat quietly, watching him pace and the dozens of thoughtful expressions cross his face. Around lunchtime, he threw in the towel.

  “We must leave, I’ve six hours until the sun fully sets.”

  Leaving the grotto was one of the worst experiences of Evan’s life. They emerged into the smoky wasteland, feet sinking in the boggy soot. Their attempts at contact had failed and Nath had taken their hands and uttered a prayer for their souls in case the worst had happened.

  It took two hours to creep within range of the monument, shadow creatures lurked beneath the battlements, puffing hot breath, eyes vivid red slits.

  They stalked into the deep craters that surrounded the palace, Nath barefoot sensing the vibrations of the earth like a router and following the lines to safety.

  Evan was terrified, but he trusted in Nath’s judgement and in little time at all they’d crossed the dusty valley to the ironclad gates. A layer of fog clustered around the palace, stinking of damp and rotted wood.

  Nath crouched low, gesturing for them to do the same. He ran a magic-coated finger across the bars observing their quick zaps, sparks littering the ground at their feet. His eyes wandered to the sharpened spires; something dark glistened, dripping down the metal, smelling sour and unpleasantly like—

  “Blood,” said Nath.

  “Whose?” asked Evan.

  “Human blood.”

  “Comrades?” Will asked suddenly.

  Evan looked at him, it was hard to see even though it was mid-afternoon. The faintest glimmer of light was buried behind dense, swirling clouds of condensed, angry magic, threatening at any moment to rupture and rain god knows what upon them all. “I hope not.”

  Nath pursed his lips. “I cannot be sure, but it’s human and it’s a warning.” He placed a hand on the gate, fingers crackling with his summoned power and watched it crumble to dust before their eyes.

  Evan expected an alarm to go off or guards to come rushing, but nothing happened. “I don’t like this. It’s too quiet.”

  Nath made a small, strange noise, eyes searching the darkened courtyard. “It’s far from quiet inside,” he said, beckoning them across the ragged cobblestones, chipped, shattered and covered in scorch marks as though some sort of explosions had taken place.

  They sidled along the building; it was massive, but not as big as Nath’s palace. Shadows slank up and down the walls, guards patrolled high above, but they kept to the darkness, bathed in celestial magic. The galaxy was their oyster and from the world, they were protected. For now.

  Evan half expected them to break in the leering oak doors laced with binding magical forces and guarded by a pinpoint shard, but Nath veered well away from them. He led them to a small grate rusted and chipped with time. With a luminous hand, he forced them open and they clattered down onto hard stone.

  Evan sucked in a breath.

  A tremendous roar from above announced the guards. Heavy footsteps slammed on the battlements and an earth-shattering thud hit the ground ten feet away.

  Nath snatched their arms and hauled them flush to the building. Evan felt his cool magic prickle over his skin. He held his breath, heart hammering, and watched the eight-foot ogre trudge closer, enormous spiked club heaved over its shoulder. The creature stank of rotten meat and unwashed bodies, it’s breath came heavy and acrid as it slouched past unaware of their presence. A second one joined and they marched up and down outside the doors, peering around corners and conversing in grunts. Idiots.

  Eventually they retreated to their posts and Nath slithered through the small hole and landed beneath the castle with a plop.

  Evan was sick to his stomach as Will followed rather forcefully, shunting his broad frame through the gap and snagging his clothes. His shirt tore loudly and Evan whipped round; barely five feet away an ogre stood, staring right into his green eyes menacingly. Without thinking, he scrambled for the hole, kicking up chips and dust.

  Nath seized him on the other side and with a painful tug he was through. A heavy fist slammed into the walls and a vile-smelling roar rattled his skeleton; spittle flew at them, landing on the cold floor.

  The spell shattered and they were visible, staring back at the ugly, sinful creature. A moment passed and it realised what it was seeing. It’s huge mouth gaped, ready to draw in a breath to bellow for assistance but the scream died in its throat.

  Will’s burning palms rose in the darkness, a flamethrower blazed toward it and as it gulped oxygen, it also inhaled the fire.

  Evan watched in horror as the creature’s eyes watered, turning into a pair of bloodshot, bulging orbs, it’s thick, khaki skin blistering. His stomach fell out of his ass as the skin melt from its jaw. Pain, he could feel it’s pain, but he refused to let his magic respond. He hated watching things die, hated their pain and suffering even though it was a necessity. One noise, one shriek from that thing and the whole castle would know, it was as good as announcing their arrival. His legs were like jelly as the light faded from its huge brown eyes and the smell of burning flesh made him heave.

  Darkness enveloped them as Will’s palm dropped and a hand came down firmly on his shoulder.

  “It must be done, Evan,” Nath said gently. “We mustn’t dwell on such matters, it likely won’t be the first death we encounter here.”

  Still shaking, he nodded.

  They were in a cellar full
of kegs that smelled of turpentine and alcohol. A faint lantern hung in the center casting immense shadows about the dingy, mildew-coated place.

  Will’s eyes were burning a fiery crimson. He flanked Nath, black flames crawling over his left fist, head darting this way and that.

  Evan followed them, palms outstretched, ready to protect.

  Their footsteps pattered quietly as they edged around the legs and came across a rickety staircase leading to a wooden door. Light spilled through its cracks and several sets of footsteps thumped past. He looked helplessly to Nath.

  “Servants, I think,” his voice was barely above a whisper, eyes pinpricks of light. “They smell human, and they’re weak.”

  The stairs creaked softly under Evan’s feet and he cursed himself as Will turned, shooting him a vicious glare.

  Nath pressed to the door, breathing deeply but quietly, listening, pointed ears pricked. “On the count of three we overpower them,” he whispered and whipped up a hand, counting one… two… three.

  He burst through the door, startling three warlock servants. They were tiny, starved-looking and wide-eyed. Nath seized the first, clamping a hand over his mouth, he punched the man in the back of the head with a glowing fist and threw him into the cellar alongside the unconscious man and woman Will forced down.

  A young man, couldn’t have been more than five feet with piercing red eyes and hands sparking with magic, turned on Evan. He opened a palm and Evan felt the sparks strike but they didn’t hurt, not even without his magic. A surge of power overwhelmed him, he punched the warlock in the face, grabbed the back of his servant’s uniform and threw him, spinning, down the stairs. He winced at the bangs and cries from below as the bodies mingled, soon joined by a broken and bloodied third from Will.

  Nath slammed the door and cast a barrier over it and their sounds stopped at once. “They won’t be bothering us,” he said smoothly.

  “Do you think anyone heard that?” said Will.

  Nath paused; listened. “If they did I think they’d be here by now there are servants all over the palace,” he said, grabbed their wrists and the feeling of being sucked through a tunnel returned with vengeance. Flashes appeared all around them and Evan’s vision distorted until he wasn’t sure if what he was seeing was real or not. Within moments they broke from the dimensional fold in a completely different part of the palace but there was no time to stop, they had to keep moving, light-footed and quick, Nath stalking like a predator down the corridors, sweeping them into darkness and up flights of stairs; he moved with surprising grace and purpose.

  “How do you know where to go?” Evan panted, desperate to keep up. Perhaps those runs would’ve been a better idea than shoveling palace delicacies and gaining another half stone from panic eating.

  “The only good things that came from exposure to this place and the full moon are my senses. I can smell everything, I can sense the horrors- for the most part,” said Nath, tasting the air.

  They pressed further along the cold stone corridors. Each one lined with a red runner and dotted with dark crimson torches burning low in their iron holders. It smelled strange, of scorched incense and something less human. To their right came a set of doors, one ajar, and the strong smell of cooking permeated the air. Nath pulled them quickly by but not before Evan spotted another group of servants, skinny and working over enormous ovens procuring an array of food.

  Turning a corner a sudden high-pitched screech broke their silence. Nath stood stock still like a hare scenting danger and footsteps thundered toward them- at least Evan thought it was toward them- shouts echoing along the corridors making it impossible to tell where they were coming from.

  Nath’s face turned this way and that, ears twitching and he cringed with discomfort. “Run,” he said simply, and they did.

  They ran until their legs burned.

  Feet pummeled the ceiling and doors burst open. Servants screamed and somewhere close by Evan heard the rupture of magical explosions. “They know we’re here?” he panted.

  “They know there’s a breech, it’ll only be a matter of time!” said Nath. “We’ll be leaving trails of scent wherever we go- especially me. We must get to the Curse Room-quickly.”

  “What’s that?” asked Evan.

  Nath gestured violently over his shoulder and they ran, alarms blaring.

  Doors burst open and they punched, kicked and magicked their way along the corridor, skidding up a flight of stairs. A troop of armed warlock guards, who did not appear starving or weak, flew at them in a whirlwind of ice and fire.

  Will slammed to a stop and threw up a wall of flames, and they turned on their heels and dashed down the right-hand corridor.

  “How far?” Will shouted over the din.

  “It’s larger than I anticipated,” said Nath.

  A door to their right burst open and a quad of banshees raced at them, rotted claws extended, gaping mouths fetid and resembling black holes. Evan clamped his hands over his ears and tried to run. He felt the agony tear through Nath’s body as the riotous noise blinded him a moment. He thrashed, screaming in pain, eyes turning a bloodshot level of fury.

  Will sent a jet of fire at them, they stretched and pulled a U-turn from the blaze. He kept firing, jet after jet, striking every wall and pushing the temperature beyond the limit; the walls blistered with heat.

  Sweat ran down Evan’s spine and magic exploded from his palms, coating Nath and numbing the pain. That’s when he felt it. Something deep inside Nath was stirring and he launched himself at the creatures with terrifying strength. His nails, extended like blackened claws, sliced through the air, dicing through one of them. The scream was piercing and black ooze burst all over the floor like an oil slick.

  “MOVE!” Will roared, pulling Nath down the other end.

  They raced through the castle, past a gothic ballroom and empty chambers, beyond windows overlooking a smashed-up courtyard and along a corridor with doors bursting open all around them. Nath shouldered a servant to the floor, knocking him out cold as he charged them with a quartz staff, uttering curses under his breath.

  “Guards!” Will shouted.

  Evan’s heart slammed once into his ribs and froze. Behind them was a testament to palace security. A barricade of guards rushed their rear, staffs ablaze and eyes like fire. Curses shot over their shoulders, snapped their ankles and struck Evan’s back. His armour split and blood wetted his back, but in moments the pain was gone and the dampness a mere memory of it. He enveloped them in energy, not enough to drain him, but enough to fight off the worst.

  “Capture him! Governor’s orders!” one yelled.

  Nath skidded and turned on them, lunar light burst from his fingertips, colliding with them. They froze, blinked and crumbled to the ground, the entire front row gushing violently with blood, their comrades tripping over their bodies.

  If he hadn’t been so terrified he would have been sick. Nath’s fingers wrenched his wrist and they turned the corner at break-neck speed, flashing into another rift where all sound was lost and the pressure around Evan’s skull was enormous.

  “There!” Nath called, voice muffled and distorted.

  Up ahead was a glossy black door, radiating a deep violet power and humming with immense secrets.

  “That’s where they’ll keep it.”

  “Keep what?” said Evan.

  “The source of Undermouth’s power. His monster!”

  They reached the doors, bursting from the rift in an explosion of colour and sound. Nath snarled inhumanely, fingers outstretched; his eyes glowed with ethereal light and stars coated his skin, kissing him with blessings. He was summoning Lunara’s light.

  Evan’s breath died at once, he watched in what felt like slow motion as Nath’s fingers grazed the door, the energy collided with Nath’s own and a blast of heat struck them off their feet. His magic drew around them encapsulating them as the floor gave way beneath them and they fell down, down, down.

  Chapter 43

 
; Evan’s world was entirely dark, he opened his eyes and dim torch fire bobbed around him. He lay on the hard stone ground, blinking back the stars. A throb of pain echoed in his skull for the briefest whim before it disappeared. He gazed up; high above them a circle of light shone and stones littered the ground, shattered and crumbling around them. Panic seized his heart in its icy grip and he searched desperately for Nath.

  Will lay on his side a few feet away, unconscious but breathing.

  He moved, placing a hand on the side of his skull, sensing the concussion inside. His magic flowed like a river into Will’s injuries, pulling taught the damage and refreshing his cells like a hot shower on a cold night. Autumnal eyes fluttered open and he blinked blearily into Evan’s face and groaned. Evan examined him closely. “No lasting damage,” he said. “Sit up slowly and tell me if you feel dizzy or faint.” He turned his attention on the room.

  The atmosphere was dense and cool, thick particles of magic drifted past the low-simmering torches. He couldn’t see to the end, it was in darkness, but he sensed something there, moving. A worm of worry burrowed into his skull. “Nath?” he said quietly. He felt Will sit, then stand beside him, shaking off debris from his cracked and singed armour. There was no sound down here save their breathing and the crackle of lights.

  Evan stepped forth, stretching his fingers into the darkness. Tendrils of danger lapped back at the and he smelled the sharp tang of fear and something else, something less human. “Nath?”

  Will raised a fist full of embers and the room illuminated in soft tangerine.

  Nath stood at the other end before a great set of doors forged from ebony crystal and embedded with gemstones. Ripples of crimson magic threaded between them, vibrating the air and creating a peculiar haze that set Evan’s teeth on edge. His body was hunched over, clothing tattered, the entire length of his right sleeve stained with blood.

  “Nath, what is it?”

  His breath replied, ragged and shaky and when Evan stepped closer, Nath flinched closer to the door, further into the darkness. “It’s here,” his voice was scratchy, close to a snarl.