Krystelle moved up next to him and laid her hand on his arm. “We can’t just give up on him. Not now. Not after coming so far. I can’t bear the thought of losing someone else because of Baledeva.”
“Who said anything about giving up? In this place, there has to be a way.” He darted his gaze around the room, searching for something—anything—that might provide a way to restore Cenric.
“Sebastian, you must learn to trust yourself.” The ethereal voice came from nowhere. Across Cenric’s body, Nynniaw shimmered into view.
“I can’t. I don’t know what to do.”
Krystelle looked about the room in confusion, “Who are you talking to?”
“Nynniaw, he’s right there. Can’t you see him?”
“There’s no one there Sebastian.”
Gazing down, Nynniaw hovered over Cenric with eyes that reflected an eternity of sorrow. Yet there was also hope in them. “I cannot speak more plainly. You must find the way inside yourself.”
Looking around the room, his gaze came to rest on the Moonstone. With utmost care, Sebastian picked up the Moonstone and positioned it on Cenric’s chest. Holding it there with one hand, he grasped Cenric’s hand with the other and placed it on the Moonstone. Repeating the procedure with the other hand, he looked up to see Nynniaw nodding in approval.
He heard Krystelle gasp as the dark clouds pirouetting across the surface of the moonstone began to swirl and glow with an otherworldly blue inner light. The same light emerged from within both men’s hands and tendrils of light stretched out, encircling the dying boy and weaving in and out of his legs, chest, and arms.
The bandages covering his wound fell away and the tendrils knitted the muscles and skin back into place. New skin grew and in moments there was no sign of the injury. Satisfied, Sebastian drew himself up, allowing the light of the Moonstone to dissipate, wisps of light retracting back into the stone.
Krystelle reached out a trembling hand and laid it on Cenric’s forehead. “The fever…it’s gone. How did you do that?”
Sebastian watched Nynniaw fade away, a knowing smile on his face. “How? I’m not really sure. I think he’ll be fine though.”
As if on cue, Cenric’s eyes popped open. Sitting up, he looked around the room. “Hey! What’s going on? Where are we? Is this Ha’vehl’on? How did we get away from Baladeva? The last thing I remember we were about to go through the door and he was right behind us. Did you figure out how to find the Moonstone yet?”
Krystelle and Sebastian shared a look and started laughing. Cenric was going to be just fine.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Leaving the promenade, the three of them followed one of the four main boulevards. It curved around a small rise before coming to a crossroads. Without hesitation, Sebastian led the party to the right from the intersection. A few more twists and turns and they arrived at the gate.
From this side, the gate back to the Ansetl-lea appeared to be an arbor formed by two birch trees. Between the arcing boughs, the air was solidified into a mirror smooth barrier. The texture and color were that of steel or the calmest pond, yet there was no reflection.
Stepping up to the barrier, Sebastian hesitated. He reached out one hand and tapped the surface. The surface rippled outward in concentric waves from where he touched it. Bracing himself, he plunged through, Krystelle and Cenric close on his heels.
Emerging on the other side of the barrier, they found themselves back in the Ansetl-lea. “Why is it so cold?” asked Cenric.
Krystelle shivered. “It is cold. It wasn’t this way when we entered the city.”
“Look,” said Sebastian, “Do you see those mountains? I don’t remember them being that close when we went into the city.”
“You’re right,” answered Krystelle. “I don’t remember them either, nor do I remember them from our journey here. Yet, there is something familiar about them...”
“They look like the mountains did on the way to the Dazhberg! That’s what’s familiar about them.” said Cenric.
Sebastian scratched his head, “That’s impossible. We traveled under those mountains. They should be in the other direction, and much farther away.”
Cenric shook his head, “No, remember it was elven magic that hid Ha’vehl’on. I’ll bet you don’t have to come out the same place you came in!”
“Then where are we?” asked Krystelle.
“Let’s find out!” Cenric ran towards the edge of the glade. Krystelle rolled her eyes at Sebastian and the two of them trailed behind the boy.
As before, a dense thicket of trees surrounded the Ansetl-lea. In moments they passed through the brush and found Cenric standing at the edge of a low cliff staring across the valley at the Dazhberg. Encampments and cook fires dotted the broken terrain between where they stood and the distant mountain. From their vantage point they could see where the walls of the old fortress had been brought down by the Dragon Guard’s attack.
A tear welled up in Krystelle’s eye, “Eimhin wasn’t exaggerating. I didn’t truly believe the fortress could have fallen. I just never thought…” she trailed off.
Understanding, Sebastian laid a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t give up hope. Philon’s barrier must still hold them at bay. We just have to get the Moonstone to him.” She turned into him, weeping on his shoulder. He moved his hand from her shoulder to embrace her fully. After a few moments she pulled away, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.
“I’m sorry…seeing the fortress…those walls…it was just too much.” She turned away, looking back over the valley, back straightening. Casting a critical eye over the terrain, she unconsciously wiped her cheeks one last time. “Now…how do we get inside?”
“I’m afraid you won’t be getting inside,” that voice sent a chill up Sebastian’s spine. The three of them turned to find Baladeva standing behind them. “It was fruitless for you to hide from me in Ha’vehl’on. Eventually you would return here. All I had to do was wait. Now, hand over the Moonstone.”
“Never!” said Sebastian, drawing his sword.
“I do not think you understand. I am not asking.” Baladeva lifted his hand and Sebastian’s vision went hazy. Tendrils of black smoke oozed out of the Krenon’s hand, inching their way towards Sebastian, Krystelle, and Cenric. Instinctively, Sebastian put his hand on the Moonstone. It was cold to the touch and he could feel it pulsing with power. Those tendrils were coming close to the three of them now and Sebastian knew in his heart that they could not be allowed to take hold.
Reaching out through the Moonstone, he drew the tendrils away. Baladeva looked at him in surprise, “So, there is more to you than meets the eye. No matter. You will hand over the stone. One way or another. Perhaps I will kill the girl first to convince you?”
With the threat to Krystelle, something snapped in Sebastian. He tapped once again into the Moonstone, feeling the cold penetrate his bones. Willing that power toward Baladeva, he watched as ice sprouted the ground around the Krenon, encapsulating his feet. Looking down, Baladeva’s eyes grew wide as the ice began crawling up his legs. Focusing, the Krenon began summoning a counter to the ice and Sebastian reached deep into the earth, pulling more and more water up into the chamber.
Sebastian could hear a note of panic came through Baladeva’s voice as he rushed to complete the counter-spell. It was passing over his chest and the Krenon strained to keep his chin above the rising ice. It flowed over into his mouth and, moments later, had covered his head. Ice wrapped completely around the Krenon. Sebastian pressed in once more and felt a hardening as Baladeva himself froze. One more push and a giant crack echoed across the valley, shattering Baladeva’s body and sending icy shards to the ground with the jangle of broken glass.
When it was over, he stood there trembling. Krystelle laid a hand on his arm. “It is over. We are safe.”
Letting the tension drain from his body, he turned to her. “Krystelle…I…”
“Shhhh…don’t say a word. You did well. Just focus on tha
t.”
Krystelle and Sebastian stood there awhile, her hand stroking his arm. “I didn’t mean to…” said Sebastian at last, sagging into her arms.
She caught him up, “I know. It is ok.”
He took a deep, ragged breath. “I couldn’t stand the thought of him hurting you. I just couldn’t.”
Sebastian and Krystelle stood there awhile, her arms around him while he came to grips with what had happened. Yet again, he had used magic to kill. Never mind that Baladeva would have killed them to gain the Moonstone. He wondered what he was becoming.
While the two embraced, Cenric crept forward to the shards of ice that had once been the Krenon leader. Bending over, he picked up a small, obsidian stone from the remains. Not wanting to disturb the other two he slid it into his pocket, reasoning that he would tell them about it later. Turning back, he found them beginning to separate.
“We still need to find a way into the Dazhberg,” said Krystelle.
Cenric looked at her with a mischievous gleam, “I’ve got an idea…”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Standing at his post at the Miltiades Gate, the guard observed two soldiers and a woman trailing behind approaching the gate. All in all gate duty was a good draw. It wasn’t likely anyone would try to approach the gate and the Dragoneers camped throughout the valley had learned in the first day or so after the battle that they weren’t welcome in the fortress.
In one of those strange twists that happens in warfare, the gate itself had survived the battle virtually untouched. The Krenon had claimed control of the fortress and demanded vigilance on the gate, never mind the gaping holes in the walls. He wondered how long it would be until things came to head between General Njord and the Krenon.
In the aftermath, only the more trusted units were allowed to lodge inside the fortress while the rest remained camped in the surrounding valley. They spent their time piling up stone and debris to fill the massive gaps, earning their pay and bolstering the fortress’s defense should the scattered Knights make an attempt to retake the Dazhberg. The work was slow going, and it wasn’t entirely clear if anyone cared all that much.
“Hold,” he ordered the trio, “State your business.”
“We captured this woman in the forest on the far side of the valley. Figured she must be some sort of spy and brought her for questioning,” said the bigger of the two Dragoneers. The little one kept looking around, first back at the prisoner, then up at the murder-holes, back to the guard, and then round again. The guard couldn’t tell if he was afraid the woman would bolt or was just in awe of the Dazhberg.
“All right then, we’ll send a message down for someone to come fetch her. You just wait out ‘ere.”
“Our captain said we was to deliver her personally, to be sure we got credit and pay,” the big one protested.
“No Dragoneers in the fortress. That’s the standing orders. You know it and so does your captain, or leastways you should.” The little one had his eyes closed now and had one hand pointed towards him. “Here now…what’s he about?”
The guard blinked. Had he been talking to someone? He couldn’t remember, all he knew was that gate duty was a good draw. It wasn’t likely anyone would try to approach the gate and the Dragoneers camped throughout the valley had learned in the first day or so after the battle that they weren’t welcome in the fortress. Still, why did the thought of Dragoneers approaching the gates make him feel so strange?
Making their way rapidly through the corridors, the three adventurers hoped they would not encounter any other guards. Based on the numbers they had seen in the valley it wasn’t likely that General Njord had a large garrison inside the fortress. Nevertheless, Cenric maintained his illusion to disguise Krystelle and ensure that any enemy forces they encountered would merely see a pair of guardsmen escorting their prisoner.
Even with his recent experiences, Sebastian still did not entirely trust magic. “How long until that guard figures out what happened?”
Cenric shook his head, “Can’t say. It’s different for everyone and I don’t have much practice. I just hope I didn’t scramble his brain completely.”
“Even if he remembers our passing, it will be some time before he’ll be able to raise the alarm,” said Krystelle. “We’ll be to the Aodhan Bret before they can possibly begin a search.”
Approaching the intersection of two main corridors, Sebastian held up his arm to pause the group. He peered around the corner, trying to look casual. Turning back, he had another thought, “What about your father and the rest of the high council? Where would the Krenon be holding them?”
Krystelle thought for a moment. “There are several possibilities, but the most likely would be deep in the dungeons. There’s no way we will be able to reach them and then return to the Aodhan Bret with the Moonstone. The chances of being discovered are too high. We just cannot do both.”
“We can if we split up. Krystelle, you take Cenric to the dungeons. See what you can do to free the prisoners, or at least the members of the council. If you’re challenged, continue our ruse from the gate. I can pass for a guardsman and one lone soldier shouldn’t be cause for attention. I’ll return the Moonstone to the Aodhan Bret.”
Cenric broke in, “Shouldn’t I be the one to return the Moonstone? I’m the wizard, remember? What if you can’t get through the barrier they made?”
“And what if you encounter an armed party Cenric? You’d be defenseless. You need to go with Krystelle, she knows the castle and can find her way. I can find my own way to the Aodhan Bret and I’m sure I’ll find a way to break through their barrier. Krystelle?”
“I dislike splitting our party again, but freeing the council—and my father—may be as important as fulfilling our quest to return the stone. Fare you well Sebastian.”
“Fare you well.” He headed down the passageway towards the heart of the keep. Krystelle watched him for a long moment before turning in silence toward the corridor that would lead them to the First Dungeon and then to the deep cells.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Stealing a glance around the last corner, Sebastian got his first look at the barricade erected by the wizards to isolate the Aodhan Bret and protect the Sunstone. Simmering with energy, the barrier covered the entire entrance and merged into the surrounding stone. Someone had attempted to remove a patch of wall not far from the door and he could see the same barrier through the fresh opening. There was no going around it, and he doubted that going under would provide a different result.
A pair of guards sat on barrels to the side of the door, rolling a pair of dice between them. “Ah! Sevens, I win again,” said the first.
“Oy, that’s five in a row. You’s cheatin’ I say.”
“How’m I cheaten? Them’s your dice!”
“I don’t knose how, I just knose you is!” Standing up, he yanked the other guard to his feet. Sebastian saw his opening. He had seen his uncle deal with enough unruly farmhands to have a pretty good handle on the situation.
Drawing himself up straight, he marched around the corner, hand on his sword. “What is all this?” he said in his best command voice, stern but not loud. As anticipated, the two guards continued their bickering, ignoring him for the moment. He raised the volume, speaking as he would to the most stubborn mule in the pasture, “Here now! I’ll have a salute out of you or I’ll have your hides.”
That got their attention.
He strode over as the two disengaged and brought themselves to a semblance of military order. Scanning their insignia, he thought these two must be from the same group of Dragoneers as the guard at the gate. “Eyes front!” he commanded, not wanting them to take a good look at him. “Now then, what’s all this commotion about?”
“He wuz cheatin…” began the first.
“That’s a plain lie!”
“ENOUGH! Fighting on duty? Dicing? The General will have your hide and mine. Consider yourself relieved and report to barracks.”
“But we wasn’
t supposed to be relieved till third watch!”
“You’re relieved now! Be glad I don’t throw you in a pit for dereliction. Get out of my sight before I decide otherwise.” He stood his ground, glaring, as the two guards scurried down the corridor out of sight. Turning back to the blockaded entrance to the Aodhan Bret, Sebastian realized he had another problem to solve. “Now, how am I going to get through that?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Cenric and Krystelle continued in silence down the darkened corridors leading to the First Dungeon, each lost in their own thoughts. Krystelle had grown up in these halls, but had seldom seen them quite this empty. Visiting the dungeons was not something her father would have ever permitted, yet that wasn’t something that ever stopped her. Sometimes it was better to ask forgiveness than permission. Now she was glad for those long hours exploring every nook and cranny of the old fortress.
Approaching the entrance, she raised a hand for Cenric to stop and motioned for him to wait while she ventured ahead. Creeping up to the stone archway leading into the dungeon’s vestibule she expected the area to be under heavy guard.
Wanting a hint of what they might be up against, she paused just out of sight to listen. A fortress like the Dazhberg was never quiet, even in the middle of the night guardsmen hustled on and off duty and servants bustled about with chores that could not be done at other times.
Something was wrong.
It was quieter than she had ever experienced. In the distance she could hear the drip-drip-drip of water and there was the faint creaking of a metal gate swinging on a hinge that needed oil. The sounds she expected were absent. There was no creak of leathered armour, nor the sound of bored guards wiling away their shifts. There should have been something.
Gathering herself, she stole a quick look into the antechamber. It was empty. Startled, she took another look, longer this time. Stepping out into the open, she waved Cenric forward to join her. “I don’t understand,” she said, “the vestibule should be guarded.”
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