The Shattering
By Emily M. Hanson
* * * * *
Chapter 1
It was all that Aliya could do to refrain from constantly glancing over her shoulder. After having left the city of Teracor to avoid being arrested for her unwitting role in an assassination attempt, she felt quite anxious about returning. Her traveling companions had convinced her that the king needed her as a witness to convict the real assassin when he was found. Despite her misgivings, she had returned with her companions.
Kip was a golden dragon. He preferred to be in human form around humans. Fenrek was a Melosean. As a race, Meloseans were much shorter than humans, averaging four feet, one inch to four feet, five inches. Five feet would be extraordinarily tall for a Melosean. Despite his sometimes irritable demeanor, Fenrek was not that hard to get along with, and he was talented with a dagger. Trin, the faery princess, was her father’s youngest daughter. The faery’s magic had served her companions well. Tanith, the flame-haired blade mistress, fought bravely in battle. Her sword was as sharp as her wit.
The familiar smells of fresh herbs, meats, and vegetables mingled with the scents of exotic spices, perfume, and farm animals such as chickens and pigs. Everything imaginable was sold in Teracor’s marketplace. Rare jewels and flowers from the East, brightly colored birds that squawked “hello,” and even amulets that some merchants claimed had been enchanted by wizards from faraway places could be found among various and sundry goods. The palace’s spiraling towers cast long shadows in the afternoon sun, looming over the marketplace and darkening the streets of Teracor.
“Halt,” said one of the guards. “What is your business here?”
“I am here on the urgent business of my father, Halbeyon Caronez II, the rightful ruler of the faeries,” Trin said. She revealed a sapphire and moonstone ring on her left hand, which had been previously concealed by her violet cape. The ring briefly glowed blue, a sure sign of faery magic. “King Ulven must hear my message.”
“Very well,” the guard replied. “Follow me.”
They were led to a chamber to freshen up, then to the throne room, where King Ulven Dekira waited for them.
“Your Majesty,” the guard said, “Princess Trin and her companions are here.”
“Excellent.” Ulven stood to greet them. “You look more beautiful than ever, Highness.”
Trin blushed. “Thank you, Sire. You’re also looking quite well. I must admit, I was not sure what to expect.”
“I’ve recovered despite the wishes of those who would have it otherwise. What message do you bring?”
“My father is concerned about the growing instability in this region. A war would be quite devastating. He urges you to prevent it. I must admit, Your Majesty, that I had another motive for coming.”
“Oh?”
“What do you know of a prophecy regarding the fall of Torgesia?”
His eyes narrowed. “Not enough, apparently.”
The faery princess nodded. “That is why we are here. Your Highness, this is Aliya, who was tricked by her guild into delivering the bloodroot.”
The king looked at the thief. “You’re awfully brave. Have you come to confess?”
“Yes, your Majesty, and to apologize. I would not have delivered the bloodroot if I had known what it was for,” Aliya said.
“Well then, perhaps I won’t behead you after all.”
She paled.
“Be merciful, Sire. You will need her alive in the future, and not just as a witness. We have reason to believe that she is part of the prophecy,” Trin advised.
“Oh?” King Ulven asked. “And what reason is that, pray tell?”
“She can command the stars.”
Silence fell over the room like a shroud. After what seemed like an eternity, the king said, “How is that possible? Tell me, thief.”
Haltingly, Aliya explained what had happened the night they’d attacked the brigands. She didn’t know how, but a drop of her blood had burst into flames when moonlight hit it, and she’d discovered her new ability. She hadn’t known about the prophecy before.
“That is most intriguing,” King Ulven responded. “Aliya, I will need you to stay here in the palace until my would-be assassin is found.”
She nodded. “As my king commands.”
“I also bring a message from my people,” Kip said.
“Which land are you from? I do not recognize your strange accent,” the king replied.
“We dwell in the mountains in the Masparan wilderness. The harsh lands shunned by men are home to us.”
No one lived in that region except for dragons. The king realized then that the golden-haired stranger had come a long way. “What is your message?”
“The draconic race wishes to establish better relations with humans. My people will send an ambassador when the time is right. We acknowledge that the struggle for peace is not easy, but there must be stability within our respective regions.”
King Ulven nodded. “Tell your people that I am open to the idea and will welcome the ambassador when he or she arrives.”
“I shall.”
“Is that all?” the king asked. “I am glad to see you again, Trin. It has been so long since your beauty has healed my sore eyes. Please know that you are always welcome here.”
“I am grateful for your hospitality, Sire,” she replied.
“Excellent.”
The king ordered his guards to escort Aliya to a chamber and keep her under watch. The others were free to go as they wished.
* * * * *
Several hours later, Fenrek sat in the gloomy shadows of a tavern with a glass of ale before him. He never liked goodbyes, but it couldn’t be helped. He was headed towards Daranor to pay off the gambling debts he owed. Trin was on her way back to the faery realm. Kip would stay in the palace here for a while. Tanith would probably go back to her people. Their paths had split. It was likely that he wouldn’t see any of them again, at least, not for a very long time.
A stranger wearing a gray cloak, sitting at the far end of the table, glanced at him. “Copper for your thoughts.”
“Eh?” Fenrek turned. The stranger’s face was well hidden. All the Melosean could see were his eyes, which were as gray as the cloak. “Just thinking about my journey ahead.”
“That is most fortunate. I hope you are considering going to Daranor. It is said that Shen Mallen is an understanding man when it comes to debts that are owed to him, but his mercy only goes so far.”
Fenrek sighed. “You can tell him that I am heading to Daranor, and that I plan on paying my debt.”
The hooded man nodded. “I will, believe me. But you did not hear me clearly, Melosean. Shen’s mercy only goes so far. He is tired of waiting for you to pay him.”
The stranger pushed back his hood, revealing a half-Faery visage. He began to chant under his breath. The few other patrons in the tavern stood up and backed away, unwilling to be part of any brawl involving magic. At that moment, Fenrek drew his dagger. A black coil wound from the sorcerer’s finger like a serpent’s tail, snuffing out all the light in its path. It was blacker than a raven’s wings and colder than an ice dragon’s breath. Fenrek shivered and charged forward, wielding his dagger. But he got no further than a single step as the black coil quickly wrapped itself around his ankles.
Then the sorcerer summoned a shimmering blue portal. Fenrek had no choice but to walk towards it. Realizing that he could move, the Melosean tried to run in the opposite direction, but the magical coil that bound his ankles allowed him to walk only as long as he headed towards the strange doorway. The sorcerer followed him into the portal which vanished, leaving behind the astonished tavern patrons.
* * * * *
Tanith glanced at the castle guards as she left. Her white stallion, J’yar, was no doubt eager to get onto the open road. She knew him to be more comfortable in open spaces where he could run freely. As she passed a tavern along the way to the city gates, she heard all sorts of commotion. Frightened patrons darted into the streets.
“Gods, what is the world coming to?” one of them remarked. “First the King is poisoned, and now there are sorcerers running amok. Someone needs to do something about this mess.”
“Excuse me,” Tanith said. “Did you say sorcerers?”
“Aye, Madam. There was a short fellow having an ale. He was most likely a Melosean. A strange man in a gray cloak, who turned out to be a sorcerer, abducted him. No doubt, it was for some foul purpose.”
Could it have been Fenrek, Tanith wondered? “Did either of them say anything?”
“Aye. The sorcerer mentioned something about a man named Shen Mallen. It seems as though the Melosean owed him something.”
Tanith reached into her purse and gave him a copper. “Thanks for the information.”
“Someone should tell the King.”
“I agree completely,” Tanith said. “If you’ll excuse me, I must be on my way.” She leaned down and whispered to J’yar, “Go back. We should make haste. The others need to know what has happened.”
*Yes, Mistress,* he replied telepathically.
Tanith could pick up on the thoughts of horses and communicate with them. It was a rare talent. They retraced their route past the street vendors and towards the palace.
* * * * *
Meanwhile, Aliya was enjoying a hot bath for the first time in weeks. The faint scent of rose oil in bath water wafted through the air. The bath was a luxury after spending so much time traveling. Though the King was holding her as a witness, the rogue knew that she was very lucky to have her head intact. Her accommodations were worthy of a noble guest, but guards stood outside her door, preventing her from going anywhere.
Not long after she was led to her room, a servant had delivered a plate of fruit, cheese, and a steaming cup of hot apple cider. It was obviously standard breakfast fare, but it was already mid-morning and too late for breakfast. Still, the food was delicious.
Aliya had seen opulence in the houses of nobility from which she’d stolen a trinket or two. Never had she been able to enjoy such luxuries herself. She also feared that she would get bored sitting in the same room all day. However, King Ulven had made it clear that she was allowed to have visitors, as long as they didn’t cause trouble. If she asked, she might also be allowed to read a book or two from the library. Aliya was considering asking for The Adventures of Red Pockets, a popular book of tales based on the famous merchant’s journals, which had been discovered by his wife after he’d passed on.
There was a knock unexpectedly on her door. “I’m in the bath,” she shouted.
The stranger knocked again, but didn’t say anything.
“Oh all right, just wait until I get dressed.”
She climbed out of the tub, threw a clean towel around herself, and was about to put some clothes on when the door burst open. She couldn’t tell whether the stranger was a man or a woman, because he or she wore a thick brown cloak with a hood that covered most of the face.
“By the Gods, can’t you see I have no clothes on?”
The stranger made no sound, but made several strange motions with pale hands. Aliya suddenly found herself growing sleepy. “What ...what do you want? Gods, I’m tired.”
Sleep quickly covered her like a thick wool blanket, wrapping her in its dark warmth. As she fell, the stranger caught her, then summoned a shimmering blue portal and stepped through it.
* * * * *
“Excellent,” said a feminine voice that reminded Fenrek of water ripples. He didn’t think she was talking to him, though. “You have done exceedingly well. My master will be pleased.”
“The Melosean awakens,” said a voice Fenrek recognized as that of the sorcerer who had abducted him.
“So he does. Look at me, land-walker. Or is your head too heavy?”
Fenrek lifted his head. He saw a creature unlike any he’d ever seen before. His captor was obviously feminine, though she was completely made of water. Strangely, her body remained intact. She had long green hair and wore a shimmering gown made of fish scales that sparkled in the flickering candlelight. Upon a closer look, her hair appeared to be seaweed. Her figure was enticingly beautiful. He wondered how such a creature could survive out of the water, and how any man could have convinced her to work for him.
Her laughter resembled the sound of a mountain stream gurgling. “It pleases me to see that you recognize my beauty. Perhaps I shall let you live for a while, so that you might amuse me. In any case, my master wishes to speak with you.”
“Your master?” Fenrek croaked. His throat felt as dry as sand. How long had it been since he’d had anything to drink?
She nodded. “Shen Mallen is my master.”
That was interesting. Shen was a gambler and a thief, not a sorcerer, and he wasn’t known to dabble in magic. However, he had hired a sorcerer to do his dirty work for him. Fenrek assumed that the sorcerer had probably summoned the water elemental, but why would she refer to Shen as her master, and not the sorcerer?
The door behind her opened and a man stepped through. Shen was tall and wiry-thin with coppery hair and light brown eyes. His nose was slightly beak-like and made him resemble a hawk. He wore black leather armor and a cape made of pitch-black material that was obviously meant to be worn for concealment.
Those types of capes were known as shadow cloaks. The wool used to make them was colored with dye made from black dragon scales boiled in water. Like all dragons, black dragons shed their skins once a year. It was therefore possible to find their scales, but quite difficult, since black dragons lived in remote regions.
Shadow cloaks cost more than what average folks earned in their lifetimes. Therefore, they were usually seen among the nobility and thieves. Because dragon scales were used in the dye, shadow cloaks were somewhat fire-resistant. It was difficult to burn them with ordinary fire, but a sorcerer’s fireball could incinerate them as easily as anything else.
At the thief’s side was an obsidian dagger with three rubies in the hilt, spaced evenly apart. They flashed with inner fire, reflecting the candlelight. Several runes could be seen etched between the rubies. Fenrek recognized one of them as the ancient rune for fire. He hazarded a guess at another rune’s meaning. It had to be either blood or life, and possibly had something to do with healing. The third he couldn’t figure out, but it resembled a man with his arms outstretched.
“Welcome,” Shen said. “I hope you aren’t too uncomfortable. I apologize for Dorian’s rudeness, but he was simply following my orders.” The flame-haired rogue stepped forward and knelt down, peering into Fenrek’s eyes as he lay sprawled on the carpet. “As you know, I am a merciful man, but even I have my limits. Do you have the money you owe me?”
Fenrek replied, “Aye. I have a gold ring with an emerald stone. ‘Tis worth my debt to you.”
“Good. Show it to me.”
The Melosean clambered to his feet and opened his belt pouch. The ring was still among his coppers and silver. “Here, you can have it. I was on my way to see you.”
“I do not wish to listen to your excuses, but thank you for repaying your debt. Now, since you were late in repaying me, I will ask you for an additional boon. Tell me all you know about King Ulven’s attempted assassination. Don’t make things difficult, or I will allow Belara to amuse herself with you. She is ingenious in her methods of extracting information.”
The water elemental smirked. “I am very creative, yes.”
Fenrek gulped. Dare he reveal Aliya’s strange gift? If he did, harm might come to her. He had no desire to cause harm, but he did want to live. He decided to try to lie.
“There is a thief,” he began. “I don’t know her name, but word has it that she’s involved somehow.”
“That’s a start,” Shen said. “But you’re not being honest, are you? I had people watching you in Teracor from the moment of your arrival. You know more than you’re telling. Belara, dear, he’s all yours.”
“Wonderful,” she replied. “It’s been so long since I’ve had someone to play with.”
The red-haired thief laughed as he left the room. “Have fun, my dear.”
Despite himself, Fenrek shivered.
* * * * *
Chapter 2
Tanith returned to the castle, where she found Kip and Trin searching for Aliya. "Fenrek has been kidnapped,” she told him.
“I feared this might happen,” the dragon replied. “Hopefully he is still alive. Have you seen Aliya?”
The flame-haired fighter shook her head. “No. Their disappearances may be linked.”
Suddenly, a breathless guard darted down the hallway. “There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you. Forgive my rudeness.”
“It is of no concern,” Kip replied. “What has happened?”
The guard told him of seeing a strange, hooded person walk into Aliya’s room. By the time he’d gotten there to stop the stranger, it was too late. They had disappeared into some sort of magic portal.
“Can you describe it?” the dragon asked.
“Aye. It was blue.”
“I know that spell,” Trin said. “It is faery magic. There are only a few who are accomplished enough to cast it. I should return home. I’ll be able to find a few clues there.”
Kip nodded. “We should look for Fenrek,” he said. “We should inform the king of this ill news as well.”
Tanith and Trin agreed. After meeting with the king, they decided that Trin would return home to search for Aliya. The others would look for Fenrek. Their group had been shattered like a crystal on the cold, hard floor. Would they be repaired?
* * * * *
Aliya awoke to discover shadowy tendrils binding her to a cold slab of stone. She appeared to be in an empty cave. Stalactites and stalagmites jutted like dragons’ teeth, giving it the appearance of a gaping mouth leading into darkness. Dripping water echoed in the distance.
Something moved in the shadows. She hadn’t seen it before. It slithered towards her in the darkness that concealed its true form. As the serpent approached, Aliya could see small, crescent-shaped crimson marks among its black scales. Its eyes were pools of liquid fire. She screamed, a sound which echoed throughout the caverns.
Before she could blink, the air around the serpent rippled. A hazy light surrounded the creature. Then a man stood where the snake had been. Only very powerful sorcerers could master the art of transformation. That was common knowledge. Her captor smiled, but it was a smile of ice, not warmth. This sorcerer was Naborean. He was tall and muscular with dusky skin, amber eyes, and long dark hair that flowed around his shoulders. If not for the smirk on his face and the uncanny gleam in his eyes, Aliya might have considered him handsome.
"I am glad to see that you are awake," he remarked.
“Who are you? What do you want with me?”
“My true name is not something I give to strangers. You may call me Zoran, which means serpent in the ancient tongue. Zoru himself has given that name to me. What I want is your cooperation.”
“Who is Zoru? For what purpose?”
“Ah, you are inquisitive. Zoru is the serpent God who has called me to follow his divine plan. My purpose is not something you are ready to know yet, but which shall be revealed in due time. For now, it will suffice to say that my purpose has to do with making sure that the Shattering happens as planned.”
“The Shattering?”
“Aye. ‘Five lands bound by royal blood will be shattered by a single root.’ The prophecy speaks of it.”
Aliya struggled, but her bonds would not allow her to sit up. “Why do you need me here?”
“Because if you are not there to give testimony, the king cannot prosecute those responsible for his attempted assassination. Without evidence, there can be no trial, according to the law. There must either be direct evidence proving guilt beyond a reasonable doubt, an eyewitness, or a confession. Without a trial, the king will grow more paranoid, wondering if those responsible will try to kill him again. With his mind occupied, his opponents will be free to wrestle the kingdom from him. When that happens, that stage of the prophecy will have been fulfilled.”
“But why go to all this trouble? I don’t understand. What do you get out of it?”
Zoran gave her another icy smile. “That is something I am not prepared to disclose just yet. In the meantime, enjoy your stay.”
He left, choosing this time to vanish into the shadows. Frustrated, all Aliya could do was hope that someone found her eventually.
* * * * *
Golden candle flames danced on obsidian stone as the sorcerer Neteilu paced in his bedchamber. The girl-thief, Aliya, had vanished from his Sight. None of his scrying glasses or spells could find her. He knew that Fenrek, the Melosean, was being held captive in Daranor. Whoever had Aliya must have used some powerful enchantments indeed. It was important that he find her, or all his plans would go awry.
Finally, he gazed into a scrying glass. He glimpsed Tanith, Trin, and Kiperreth leaving Teracor. They were heading south toward Daranor, presumably to find their Melosean acquaintance. Neteilu frowned. He couldn’t let that happen. No, it was imperative that the group remained separated, at least for now.
His thoughts turned to Alriod. The young apprentice was supposed to make sure that a letter indicating Lord Brogan’s deal with the Thieves’ Guild was found by guards in the arrogant man’s chambers. Responding to the sorcerer’s thoughts, the scrying glass became murky for just a moment. When the fog cleared, Neteilu saw Alriod in Lord Brogan’s bedroom.
Alriod was a half-Faery, which was obvious by his pointed ears and pale blue eyes. That particular shade of blue did not occur in Faery eyes, and was even rarer among humans. Alriod’s hair was such a pale shade of blond that it appeared as white as the silk handkerchief on the dresser. It obviously belonged to Alenda, Brogan’s wife. Handkerchiefs for men were usually made of darker and plainer materials.
The apprentice placed the false evidence onto the bed, where it would be seen. Before leaving, he purposely stepped on the sleeping dog’s tail. As expected, Brogan’s dog began to bark and growl. Alriod cast a spell to create a magic portal. He stepped through it.
A moment later, the guard arrived to check things out. As expected, he discovered the letter. The guard blanched upon reading it and exclaimed, “The king must know of this treachery!”
The shimmering blue portal appeared on the other side of the sorcerer’s bedroom. As the apprentice stepped through, Neteilu praised him. “You’ve done exceedingly well, Alriod. You are nearly ready to master the Challenges to become a full-fledged sorcerer.”
Alriod bowed. “Thank you, Master Neteilu.”
“We must discern the location of the girl. Aliya is central to our plan. If something has happened to her, the prophecy will not be fulfilled.”
“Yes, Master Neteilu. Perhaps the scrying glass can be of use.”
“Fool! Do you not think I have already tried that? Wherever she is, it cannot find her.”
“Of course. I am sorry. Forgive my impertinence.”
“It does not matter now. You must find her. Do whatever it takes, but do not alert anyone to us.”
“As you wish.” Alriod bowed again.
“Go.” Neteilu pointed in the direction of the door. Alriod would find her. He was certain of that. His apprentice could be resourceful when the situation required it.
* * * * *
Fenrek awoke in a dark chamber as pain seared through his body. He tried to remember what he’d told the water elemental, but couldn’t. What if he had told her everything? The Melosean knew that he had to escape and warn the others.
As he tried to sit up, his strength failed him. Fenrek attempted to curse, but his throat was too parched for speech. Desperation overwhelmed him. Not only was he apparently helpless, but neither could he escape. Belara had probably gotten what she wanted. Teracor was doomed because of him.
From somewhere within the room, he heard chuckling. It was distinctly feminine and, from the sound of it, probably the water elemental. Fenrek glanced around and finally saw her. Belara was nearly impossible to see in the darkness. Without light, her watery form was nearly invisible.
“You are a stubborn one,” she said. “Mark my words, I will get what I want from you, one way or another. Hmm...I see Isirak’s bonding spell has taken its toll. The side effects from it can be rather painful.”
Belara picked up a glass and held her finger over it. Water streamed forth, filling the entire vessel. When it was full, she approached the bed. “Drink this.” Fenrek hesitated. Belara added, “It is only water. It will not harm you.”
The Melosean took the glass and drank greedily. The water was more pure and sweet than any he’d ever tasted. When he’d finished, Fenrek gave the glass back to her. “Thanks.”
“In your previous condition, you would not have been able to tell me anything,” the elemental reasoned. She set the glass down. “What do you know about the prophecy?”
“I don’t know any more than you do. Really.”
“Oh, I doubt that, land-walker. The prophecy will affect my people just as much as it will affect yours, if not more so. When the battle begins, we will have no choice but to fight for the sorcerers who call on us. Many of us will die. At least you have a choice in the matter.”
“Tell me something. Why do you serve Shen Mallen if he’s not your true master?”
“How do you know he isn’t?”
“Because,” Fenrek replied, “I know Shen well enough to know that he hasn’t studied magic. He hired that sorcerer to do his dirty work for him. Isirak summoned you, did he not?”
“Yes,” Belara admitted. “Isirak summoned me, then released the bond, and cast a new one at the same time. I was bonded to Shen. He commands me as a sorcerer would, and I must obey him.”
Fenrek wondered if Kip would know how to break the elemental’s bond. If he escaped, he could find the dragon and ask him. “What if you didn’t have to obey him?”
“I would be in your debt. Shen Mallen is detestable. I cannot stand his arrogance, his rudeness, and the stench that follows him. Honestly, I don’t think he’s taken a bath since I’ve known him.”
The Melosean chuckled. “If you let me escape, I know a gold dragon who might be willing to help you.”
“Really?” She looked hopeful.
“Yes.”
“I wish I could,” Belara replied. “However, Shen would not be pleased with me. That wouldn’t be a good idea. Why don’t you just tell me what you know? I’m sure he’d let you go.”
Fenrek sighed. “No, I can’t, and he probably won’t do that.”
“Very well.” She refilled the water glass and placed it on the nightstand near the bed. “I’ll have to think of some creative way to get that information. Until then, you’ll have to stay here.”
He heard the water elemental leave the room and lock the door. He was alone again in the darkness. Fenrek wondered if his friends had any idea where he was, or even if they were trying to find him.
* * * * *
The road was a thin ribbon of dust that stretched far into the distance. Kip, Trin, and Tanith had been riding on horseback for several hours now. It was nearly mid-day. They were less than a hundred miles from the ocean, so the air was fairly moist and warm. They’d stayed overnight in two villages along the way. Last night was the final resting stop. There would be no more towns or villages until the adventurers reached their destination.
Trin hummed a childhood song as her white mare, Sela, trotted along the path. She didn’t mind being outside, but she missed her home. It would be wonderful to walk along the paths in her father’s gardens. Trin remembered the lilacs, roses, violets, and tulips that grew alongside more exotic species like the brilliant dragonsbreath, bright yellow and white starflowers, and shimmering moonroses. She would eventually return, but her memories would have to do for now.
Tanith grinned. Her long, flame-red hair was braided so it wouldn’t fly into her face, which was sometimes an annoyance. She loved being out in the open. J’yar enjoyed it as well. She could tell by his buoyant disposition and his mental humming in tune with Trin’s song. Tanith could hear horses telepathically. It was a rare talent.
It was possible, as her parents and others had speculated, that there might be Seeker blood flowing in her veins. The Seekers were a nomadic race known for horse breeding. They traversed the continent when the seasons changed, always looking for a mild climate. The true name of their race had been lost for centuries, along with their homeland.
Kip longed to be flying among the clouds in his dragon form, but he knew that his companions needed him. His mount was a black stallion called Onyx. The horse had been understandably nervous at first, sensing Kip’s true nature. The stallion bore him willingly enough now.
Ominous thunderclouds formed overhead, shrouding the sky. Storms were unusual during the summer, when it was often dry. Kip scanned the area around them. There was no place for them to take cover.
“We’ll have to ride out the storm,” he said. “I can cast a spell to keep us dry, but it won’t last very long.”
Tanith nodded. “Hopefully, it will be just a quick downpour.”
Trin glanced up. She had an odd feeling that the storm was more than it seemed. “Do you notice it, Kip? I don’t think that’s an ordinary storm.”
He looked up again, this time, stretching with his innate senses toward the gathering clouds. Kip couldn’t sense anything strange. “Looks like a normal storm to me. I’m sure we’ll be fine.”
Despite the dragon’s words, Trin shivered.
* * * * *
Lord Brogan squinted at his piece of roast boar, from which he’d just taken a bite. He thought it tasted funny for some reason. He was just about to complain to a nearby servant when two royal guards strutted into the room and announced they were placing him under arrest for attempted assassination.
“What,” Brogan spluttered, spewing meat everywhere.
Lady Alenda winced as some of the meat bits landed on her gown. “I’m sure there’s been a mistake, dear. Do calm down.”
“Calm down? I’m being arrested,” he exclaimed.
“Good riddance,” Lord Colfax remarked. He was a tall man with straw-colored hair, blue eyes, and a scraggly beard. He’d been one of Brogan’s chief opponents for…well, for as long as the other could remember. “At least, we’ll finally have some peace without your constant whining.”
“There now,” the guard said, clamping chains around the prisoner’s wrists. “Off we go. The King will see you in the morning, Brogan. Sorry about the interruption,” he told the gathering.
“Try not to annoy the guards, dear. I’ll see what I can do,” Alenda replied as her husband was led out of the dining hall.
The dungeon’s stench assaulted Brogan’s nose as he was securely chained to a stone wall. The Gods only knew what else was down there. Then the guard locked his prison cell and left him alone in the darkness.
* * * * *
Chapter 3
King Ulven glanced up as his advisor, Dracon Kaldaan, set a document on his desk. It was the notice of Lord Brogan’s arrest. Normally, it would be good news, but he had been counting on Aliya’s testimony as well. With only the evidence against Brogan, the trial’s outcome might be to his disadvantage. His opponents could use it to claim that his few supporters were either weak or had turned against him. If that happened, Torgesia would be shattered like a glass, just as the prophecy proclaimed.
“Interesting,” Ulven mused. “Have the guards been able to find the thief girl?”
“No, your Majesty. However, they could use the help of a sorcerer. It is possible that Aliya is being concealed by magical means.”
“I see. Do you know of a sorcerer who is trustworthy enough?”
“Other than the adventurers who have left to find their missing companions, I can only think of one such man: Cigmus the Grey.”
“That name doesn’t sound familiar,” Ulven admitted. “What do you know of him?”
“He usually works as a scribe, but he has received training in the art of magic and passed the tests of mastery. He’s kept a low profile in recent years. Cigmus was once an adventurer himself.”
“Indeed,” the king remarked. “I would like to meet this sorcerer before I hire him.”
“Of course, your Majesty. I’ll see to it that he is found.” Dracon bowed courteously and left the king to his work.
* * * * *
Just then, Cigmus the Grey was gulping down a tankard of ale. This particular inn was called the Silver Cup for no reason that he could fathom. But the drinks tasted good and the serving girls looked pretty, which was all he really cared about. A crash of thunder stifled the atmosphere momentarily, as tavern patrons glanced out the windows and saw the dark, brooding sky.
“It’s been raining half the day,” a bar maid complained. “When’s it going to stop?”
“The sooner you wash the far left table, missy,” replied the barkeep.
She grabbed a bucket and a rag from behind the bar. “Hopefully it won’t flood. My Grandma died in a flood. So did my Pa.”
“Don’t you worry,” said the barkeep. “Just do your job.”
Cigmus sighed. The gloomy weather was making everyone feel miserable, himself included. Well, there was only one way to deal with misery -- having fun. From his pocket, he took out a set of dice. “Anyone up for a game?”
“Count me in,” said one of the tavern patrons. “Name’s Colm, by the way.”
“Good. Anyone else?”
Apparently, no one else cared to join in. For nearly an hour the two men chatted about daily life as they tossed the dice and kept score on a worn scrap of parchment that Cigmus just happened to have. Then a local farmer came in with a distraught expression. He carried a flickering oil lamp. Everyone looked at him.
“What is it, Ysiof?” The barkeep asked.
“I need help,” he said in a voice that cracked with worry. “The wind has destroyed part of the roof and knocked over a lamp. Corra and the baby are still inside. Elius is trying to get the fire under control, but he’s losing the battle. We need help.”
Cigmus stood up. He dropped the dice he’d been about to throw. They clattered onto the table and displayed a pair of ones. But no one noticed. “Where?”
“Come with me,” Ysiof replied.
About a dozen locals followed him. The farmer’s house was on the edge of the village. Golden flames licked the walls as smoke billowed into the air. The rain had stopped but it was windy and the wind was feeding the fire. “There,” said the farmer, pointing to his house.
Cigmus reached into one of the many pockets in his robe and took out an old, slightly charred Darkwood wand. He chanted in the ancient tongue, commanding the fire to stop. The wind grew calm until the flames vanished. The fire had gutted out the walls and left a gaping hole. Ysiof ran inside, followed by a few peasants. They came out a few minutes later. The farmer assisted his wife, who carried a crying baby in her arms.
Elius, their older son, placed a hand on the sorcerer’s shoulder. “I cannot thank you enough for stopping the flames. If they had burned for much longer, I doubt that my mother and sister would have survived.”
“It was no problem,” he answered.
“Perhaps not. But you saved their lives, and I am grateful.”
While the villagers prepared to celebrate the rescue, Cigmus glanced up at the sky. The thick gray clouds were drifting southwest towards Daranor. One of them resembled a serpent ready to strike. He didn’t know what that meant, but it was surely not a good sign.
* * * * *
Aliya must have drifted off to sleep, for she awoke to hear the sound of chanting nearby. There was a harshness to the language. She couldn’t understand any of the words, but they didn’t sound good. She had learned quickly not to struggle against her bonds or they would tighten even more. So Aliya laid in the darkness, waiting for whatever fate had in store.
Zoran entered the cavern carrying a tray of food. He pointed at the bonds and they loosened just enough for the prisoner to sit up. “Eat. I don’t intend for you to starve to death.”
“Why not?”
“Because,” the sorcerer said as though he were explaining things to a small child, “you are an integral part of my plan.”
“Your plan?”
“Yes, girl. Now eat.”
Aliya shrugged as she picked up a piece of bread and chewed it. The bland taste almost made her choke, but she continued to eat. Zoran glared at her until she had finished the bread, a chunk of cheese, and half an apple. The wine he’d given her to wash it all down with was very bitter. He took the tray away and pointed at her bonds. They grew tighter, forcing her to lay down again.
“I will be back later. Right now, I have things to destroy, places to conquer, and people to kill.” Zoran’s icy laughter echoed as he left the cave.
* * * * *
Meanwhile, the adventurers were thoroughly soaked from the downpour. Fat raindrops fell around them and caused the ground to become muddy. There was no sign that the rain would end. Suddenly a silver lightning bolt arched across the sky and struck the ground only a few feet from them. Startled, Trin’s white mare reared and nearly spilled her to the ground. Fenrek’s stallion had obviously had enough. It ran several dozen feet before he could calm it down. The training that Tanith had given J’yar allowed him to keep his wits, but the horse was clearly nervous.
*I don’t like this one bit,* J’yar remarked telepathically.
“It’s just a storm,” Tanith reasoned. “Don’t worry.”
As she spoke, there was a hissing all around them.
“What is that,” Trin wondered.
“Snakes, and lots of them.”
Tanith was correct. A half-dozen unusually large serpents surrounded the adventurers. The creatures’ eyes burned with hatred.
“Where did they come from?” the faery asked.
“That is a valid question,” Kip pointed out. “These snakes are not ordinary. They had to have been summoned by someone.”
“But who? There’s no one around for miles.”
“That is something we’ll have to find out later.”
Kip and Trin began to cast spells. Tanith drew her sword. The giant snakes slithered through the mud, hissing as they moved closer. The flame-haired fighter struck one of the snakes in its soft abdomen. J’yar leaped back as green poison squirted out of its body.
“Watch out for their poison,” Tanith called out.
A glowing arrow sprang from the dragon’s hand and pierced its intended target. The snake hissed but remained upright. One of the other snakes opened its jaws and squirted venom, aiming at Trin. Sela tried to move out of the way, but the poison struck the mare’s leg. Seeing that her horse was in pain, the faery leapt off. The wound festered as the fast-acting poison took its toll. Quickly, the faery cast a spell to heal it, but she was interrupted by a swipe from a serpent’s tail. It hit her with enough force to knock her down in the mud.
Tanith skillfully slashed the serpent that had just attacked Trin. Her sword cleaved through the snake’s soft skin, and it crumpled to the ground. Green poison seeped out of its veins. Tanith sheathed her sword and helped Trin to her feet before the venom could reach her.
Kip leapt off his mount. “Stay back,” he told the women. “I’ll be more useful in my natural form.”
The air around him shimmered as the dragon shape-shifted. Flesh became gold dragon scales and arms became great wings. He towered over them, casting a large shadow over the hissing snakes. As lightning flashed, Kiperreth’s gold scales glittered like a thousand stars.
“Wow,” Tanith said. “I am impressed.”
She thought at first that the rumbling reply was thunder, but it was actually the dragon’s chuckle. A mighty swipe of his claws took out the nearest serpent. In this form, Kip was impervious to snake venom. Trin attempted to heal her mare, chanting in the musical faery language. Sela’s wound glowed purple as the spell ran its course and purified the poison.
Three giant snakes remained now. Tanith sliced through one of them with her sword as Kiperreth’s razor-sharp claws tore apart the others. When there were clearly no more opponents to fight, the dragon changed back into his human form. “Everyone all right?” he asked.
“I am fine,” Trin answered. “And Sela will live.”
Tanith checked herself over for any bruises. “Everything’s in one piece here.”
“Good. Our opponent has revealed himself. When we get to Daranor, we should talk to the local priests. The serpent is a symbol of Zoru, the snake God. He was thought to have been destroyed by the other Gods over a millennium ago, but perhaps he has found a way to return. If that is true, it would be most unfortunate.”
“I remember hearing stories about his destruction when I was much younger,” Trin volunteered. “The other Gods imprisoned him in the sun for his crimes, where he would burn for all eternity. He must have found a way to escape. That coincides with the prophecy. Zoru must be the darkness.”
“Indeed,” Kip agreed. “We should make haste.”
They continued on their way to Daranor as the feeling of boding evil grew.
* * * * *
In Teracor, the trial went about as well as King Ulven had expected. Lord Brogan had been proven guilty with the evidence of the letter about arranging a meeting with the Thieves’ guild. It was too bad that Aliya hadn’t been there to testify. When the king retired to his chambers, he found several people waiting for him.
Lord Darek was a stout fellow with a bad temper. Lady Torana, his wife, was a beautiful brunette with a taste for plotting. Lord Garaveb was the king’s military advisor. He was a tall well-built man with a sharp wit.
A mysterious blue portal appeared suddenly, and the sorcerer Neteilu walked through. “I see I’m just in time,” he replied.
“What are you doing here?” Ulven said. “Who is that sorcerer?”
“Your supporters have grown weak,” Lord Garaveb replied. “Even your closest followers are plotting against you.”
The king mentally noted the lack of any royal titles whatsoever. “What do you want me to do?”
”Rot,” was the reply as Lord Darek stabbed Ulven with a previously concealed dagger that dripped with poison.
“No…” The king crumpled to the ground in pain. “Why?”
“Because you are weak,” the military advisor responded. “Fortunately, there is someone else who will gladly take your place. But you needn’t worry about that. Where you’re going, you won’t have anything to worry about.”
“Well done,” Neteilu replied as Ulven’s spirit passed through the veil of the physical world. “Now, I’m afraid I must kill you. I can’t allow traitors in my new government.”
“You’ll do no such thing!” Garaveb drew his own concealed sword. “You may be a sorcerer, but even men like you can die from a well-placed blade.”
As he lunged forward, the sorcerer revealed his palm. A glowing red blast of energy hit the military advisor squarely in the chest. He collapsed from the searing pain. Darek attacked with his blade and suffered the same fate. Then Torana glanced around as if looking for an escape route.
“My dear, don’t even think about it,” Neteilu advised her. “These doors are locked. The guards have been drugged. There is no place to go.”
“What shall I do?”
“Obey me, for I am your king now. If you grovel well enough, I may decide not kill you.”
Seeing no choice, Lady Torana knelt before the sorcerer. “You are my king. I swear allegiance to you.”
“Excellent.” Neteilu was clearly enjoying this. “Get up.”
She stood. “What will you have of me, your Majesty?”
“I think you will make a very lovely queen.”
Neteilu’s evil smirk pierced Torana’s heart. It was as if something had shattered inside her heart, scattering the pieces across the room. These were very dark times indeed.
* * * * *
