A Dagger of the Mind (The Imperial Metals) (34 page)

“Immortality?!” Flopson’s voice mused. “No, my dear boy. Longevity. Perhaps I could have done either, but they both have their price. And the upgrade from Longevity to Immortality wasn’t worth the service fee.”

“But there was still a price? Seeing your friends die? Outliving your children?”

“My friends had already died. And I cannot have children. Or, at least, I haven’t been able to since my transformation. Believe me, I tried.”

“Then the price was your mind...” Jareld concluded.

“There you go!” the voice of Flopson rejoined. “Give the man a prize!”

And he stepped into the light.

It was Flopson. Or, at least, it was the body and face of the man some of them knew as Flopson. But he stood up straight. And he wore a brown robe, with a belt and boots. His hair was short and dark. But the mischievous smile was still plastered on his face.

“I had to remember,” Flopson said. “I had to remember until it was time to forget. And they’ll let you remember, but you end up remembering everything. All of it. Two thousand years of names and places and things. I can tell you the order of moves of every chess game I’ve played, ever. I can tell you how many days I owned each pair of boots I’ve ever worn. And the human brain isn’t made for that.
”

Another rumble echoed through the room. Bigger, closer, and louder. Grimsor was close.

“So now, if you want me to remember something, I’ll just have to tell you everything. EVERYTHING!”

Flopson yelled, jumping in Jareld’s face. Jareld recoiled, instinctively. There was no mistaking the madness in his eyes.

“When my mind began to slip, I hid a part of it here. Deep under the ocean. Waiting in a living dream. My waking body can’t comprehend everything he knows or does. He can only see one piece of the puzzle at a time. I had hoped to keep this part of my mind safe. Protected. Sane.”

He started to laugh, the least comforting laugh in the history of mental breakdowns.

“Looks like it didn’t work huh?!” he said, slapping Jareld on the shoulder, like he was delivering a punchline.

“We need you to remember something,” Jareld said. “Just one thing. How do we defeat Grimsor?”

“You can’t.”

“You just said, we can banish him.”

“Hypothetically. Suppositionally. Abstractly. Theoretically, you could indubitably endeavor to ostracize and extradite the offending hellion. But if you do, it will have to be without my help.”

“How so?” Jareld pressed.

“He’s here!” a guard yelled, as the lookout fled back into the room. Landora arranged everyone to bottleneck the entrance, hoping to give Jareld as much time as they possibly could.

“Flopson! Tell me why you can’t help!”

“We trusted in steel and blood. A spell works best if the energy is collected in two parts. We put one in the steel. We put the other in the blood. When the two meet, they will release the energy.”

“So, what’s wrong? What steel? Who’s blood?”

Rocks cracked over the entrance into the cave. Grimsor was punching his way in, breaking the barrier wide enough for his massive frame.

“The steel is easy,” Flopson said, as though nothing were happening, “The Saintskeep, silly. The Sword of Kings wasn’t meant to be the Sword of Kings. It was just a vessel. A magically imbued clump of metal.”

The stones exploded into the cave, and there stood Grimsor, the fire on his horns burning despite the water. A stream of hissing steam bubbled up from the top of his head. Behind him, an army. Some of them his people. Some of them Rone and Turin soldiers. Men and women who had been in the dream.

“Keep talking,” Jareld urged Flopson.

“The blood is lost. The oldest son of the oldest son of, well, you get it. Etc. Etc. Rone. We picked him. A strong leader. His family ruled over the old continent. And when the people fled to the continent you now call home, we had to make sure his family survived. And he ‘discovered’ the sword again, with a little encouragement from yours truly.”

“So if an heir of Rone the Great wields the Saintskeep, he can banish Grimsor?”

“Stop saying his name.”

“He’s already here.”

“To answer your question, yes. If there were any male heirs left, he could stab Grimsor with the sword. It won’t kill him, but it will release the energy for the portal. Then you would need someone to shape the spell. Not hard. There’ll be plenty of energy. I always expected to do it myself but, you know...”

“You’re insane?”

“That’s the one!”

Behind them, the battle was going very poorly, very quickly. Duncan’s soldiers were wiped out in seconds. Did they die? Wake up? He couldn’t be sure. The mages all attacked Grimsor, but even in the Dreamscape, his skin was impenetrable. There was no contending with him.

“We have to wake up!” Duncan yelled to Landora. “We can’t do anything here.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Landora said. She swam back into the cave, aiming for the darkest, deepest corner. If she could will herself to dream, could she will herself awake? There was no way to know...

---

Landora stumbled awake on the dais. Below her, Duncan and the others remained snoozing away. She ran to wake them up. She jostled Duncan...

---

Duncan faded away from the dream, just as Grimsor was about to split him in half with his sword. Nuria panicked. Had Duncan just died? Woken up?

Emily vanished. There was no time to think. Nuria fled back into the cave, to Jareld and Flopson. But then Jareld faded away. She froze, unsure of what to do next. The jester stood beside her...

“What’s the matter, little girl?” Flopson asked, “Bad dream?”

---

Landora sprinted down the corridor, legs pumping as fast as they could carry her. She was groggy, weary. It was almost worse to get a little sleep than it would have been to get none at all.

She reached the balcony. She shook the Twins awake, one with each hand. She jostled Corthos...

---

Nuria and Flopson backed further into the cave, watching as Xerxes, Xanathos, and Corthos all vanished, just as the others had. They were alone. And even though an army of enemies surrounded them, Grimsor stalked forward himself.

“We meet again, little girl,” Grimsor’s voice echoed.

“I take offense to being called a little girl,” Flopson said. Then added, “Oh, you meant her.”

“I’ve met you before too, little man,” Grimsor taunted.

“That’s better,” Flopson said. “Next time, if you’re not sure if I’m a man, just ask, and I’ll wag my genitals at you.”

---

Duncan staggered through the halls. He had sent Landora to wake up the balcony, while he went to the mess hall to wake the last group. But it was a harder task than he had originally thought. Running, right after sleeping, right after not sleeping, right after running a battle, right after escaping a volcano, right after riding across the Turinheld, right after sailing down from Aceley... Not as easy as it might sound.

He stumbled into the room to find many of the soldiers stirring. Some of them were still, and would never stir again. And there was Nuria...

---

“Do not resist me now,” Grimsor said to Nuria. “You know I can cripple you with fear. Submit, and it will be without pain.”

“I will not surrender,” she said. “I will destroy you.”

“Yeah,” Flopson said, “What she said.”

“How do you plan to defeat me? I am invincible.”

Grimsor reached out his hand, closing in on Nuria...

And then the room went dark. Something had blocked out the beam of light from the ceiling. It passed through the sunroof, and continued to descend. A human form. A woman.

Vye.

“Leave her alone,” Vye said as she landed on the sea floor. “This battle is between you and me.”

“Witch!” Grimsor called. “You were defeated!”

“No,” Vye said. “I was evaporated. Slight difference.”

“Where have you been?” Nuria asked.

“It’s not easy learning to exist as a non-corporeal entity,” Vye replied.

“Listen, if you don’t need me here...” Nuria said.

“Yeah, you should probably go.”

And Nuria vanished. Vye turned to Flopson.

“How about you?” she said.

“I’ll stay here,” Flopson said. “I owe Grimsor one swift kick to the balls.”

“He doesn’t have balls,” Vye pointed out.

“Then I’ll just have to keep kicking until I hit something that hurts.”

---

Nuria stirred awake. Duncan was elated to see her moving. He scooped her off the ground, hugging her.

“Thank Halinor you’re alright,” Duncan said.

“It was Vye,” she said. “She came to save me.”

“In that case, thank Vye,” Duncan corrected.

But the victory was short-lived. Landora came running in.

“Duncan,” she said, “The enemy is back. They’re attacking the Castle again.”

“Shit,” Duncan said. “Alright. Sound the alarms. Once more unto the beach, dear friends.”

They ran out of the room to prepare the defenses.

It was three-oh-five...

Chapter
61: A Lesson In Fear

There was no tidal wave this time.

Grimsor had sailed his troops south, around the tip of the inlet, landing on the unguarded shores several miles from Anuen. His soldiers fell into rank and file and marched up to their target. This time, Grimsor would be there himself. There was no defeating him.

But he wasn’t just with his army, on land. He was also in a dream. He was a creature of nightmares, and he could be in both places at once. Just as Vye had done in the first battle. He could fight on both fronts...

---

“Insolent woman!” Grimsor called. “Your confidence is unfounded. I can destroy you here as easily as in the waking world.”

“You never defeated Frost,” Vye pointed out.

“He was a coward. He hid from me. But you come to face me. And now you die!”

He struck forth, his serrated blade cutting through the water, closing in on Vye. She lifted her meager sword...

And blocked.

“This is not possible!” Grimsor said. “My weapon is superior. Nobody can withstand my attacks.”

“It’s funny that you called Frost a coward,” Vye said, swinging her sword back at the towering beast, “Because I agree.”

“But you do not disdain him for his cowardice?” Grimsor said, slicing across Vye’s body with his weapon. But Vye recoiled without a scratch.

“No,” Vye said, “He did what he had to do. But now I have to do what I have to do. And I realized that you have never experienced fear.”

“I am the master of fear!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Vye taunted him. “Sure, you can cause fear. But you don’t really know what it is.”

She swung her sword at him, again and again. He easily parried, but Grimsor wasn’t used to fighting anyone for more than one swing. Vye finished her barrage and continued...

“I’m going to teach you a lesson.”

---

Grimsor made quick work of the south wall. Destroying castle walls was a piddly exercise for him. And with the stone destroyed, his army could march right in.

Duncan scrambled as many soldiers as he could to the courtyard. But he knew the numbers were against him. His soldiers hadn’t slept, except for an exhausting five minutes of dreaming. His numbers were reduced. And the only advantage they had, that of being in a stone fortress, had been reduced to ashes in seconds.

Jareld found him on the upper battlements, overlooking the demise of the city.

“Jareld,” Duncan called out over the shouts and fighting below, “I hope you have a brilliant idea, because I’m all out.”

“I have an idea,” Jareld said. “But you’re not going to call it brilliant once you’ve heard it.”

“Well, how far away from brilliant is it?”

“I need you to grab the Saintskeep, mount a horse, and charge up to Grimsor.”

“You know, the stories about you never mentioned your sense of humor.”

“I’m not done.”

“Oh.”

“Once you get to him, I need you to stab him, and then have Landora and the others open the Portal.”

“You heard Flopson, in the dream?”

“Yes.”

“You heard that only the heir to the line of Kings can unleash the sword?”

“Yes.”

“I’m just a guy.”

“True. And I’ve never been a fan of the whole bloodlines-ruling-kingdoms thing. But I have reason to believe you are the heir to the Rone bloodline.”

“What?!” Duncan objected. “My father is Lord Kelliwick. My mother is Lady Vivian, the third daughter of Lord Blaggathon. I have no connection to the Rones or the Deliems.”

“I’ve met Lord Kelliwick,” Jareld said. “Very nice fellow. Funny. Terrible at math.”

“Yeah, and...”

“So let’s do the math together. Your parents were married in early January. You were born in late August. Or eight months later, if we’re going to use numbers.”

“Maybe I was early.”

“Ten pounds, five ounces. Healthy as they come, according to the midwife’s journal.”

“You read my midwife’s journal?”

“Took some digging. Look, it’s simple. Alexander Deliem liked to import mistresses. And his last mistress before his death was your mother.”

“Putting aside for a moment that you just called my mother a whore, I’m still younger than Michael would have been by a couple of decades. I’m not the first son in a line of first sons.”

“If you were Alexander’s son, yes. But Lady Vivian spent three years in Deliem. For the last six months of her stay, Count Deliem was out of the country.”

“And you think she slept with Michael? You think she just switched from father to son without a thought?”

“I don’t know if it was without thought. But I do think it happened. And your mother confirmed the story when I asked her about it.”

“What?! When?”

“Oh,” Jareld said, sheepishly, “I paid to have her brought here to Anuen. She’s actually staying in a guest room at the Baron’s Estate.”

“You mean your estate?”

“Details, details. The point is, I think you’re Michael’s first and only son. So I think you are the answer to Flopson’s riddle. I think you’re the only one who can connect the steel with the blood.”

“You’re saying I have to go fight Grimsor?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not really a fighter.”

“I’ve tried that excuse before. It never works.”

---

Grimsor and Vye exchanged steel strikes over and over as the battle raged on in their minds. Each clash rang louder than the last. The metal flashed in the light with each flicker of the blade.

“I am eternal,” Gimsor said. “You cannot make me afraid. For I cannot be undone.”

“You can be banished.”

“But I can also return. Now that I know this realm is here, I will forever seek it out. For it is mine to conquer.”

“Then you haven’t learned your lesson,” Vye said. “I will introduce you to death, because you have never had to think about it.”

And suddenly they were somewhere else. A cliffside, overlooking a forest. The full moon beamed down upon them. The Lunapera. Vye’s nightmare of it. In the Land of the Dead.

---

Duncan lined up with the best unit of armored knights left in the Castle. Landora and Nuria rode behind them, the Twins taking a pair of smaller, faster horses so they could remain mobile. And they charged into the fray.

It was everything Duncan could do to keep the unit moving forward. He shouted orders to every standing soldier to form a phalanx around them. The knights rode ahead, scaring off Grimsor’s soldiers, battering them aside, and then galloping ahead to Duncan’s position, letting the enemy close in around them. They could only move forward. If they wanted to get back to Anuen, they would have to fight their way back.

Landora stayed on Duncan’s flank, using small spurts of magic to clear the path. But she was trying to conserve her energy. She was the strongest and most capable of the mages present, and she suspected she would need every ounce of strength to cast the spell.

The Twins also tried to conserve their energy, but it was harder for them on the outskirts of the forward unit. They shot flashes of light from their hands, hoping to blind or distract the enemy momentarily. They couldn’t harness their full training if they hoped to contribute to Grimsor’s end.

Finally, they arrived at the rear of the battle. The knights scattered, turning full around and forming a barricade behind Duncan and the others. They would fend off Grimsor’s soldiers as long as they could, but they would be facing incredible odds. They could probably only hold the enemy off for a minute before they were overrun.

“So,” Grimsor roared, spreading his wings and raising his sword, “You have come to fight me?”

---

But in the Land of the Dead, Grimsor’s certainty was beginning to falter. He wouldn’t let it show, but there was a crack in his assured veneer.

“It doesn’t matter if you take me to the Land of the Dead,” he sneered at Vye. “You have been here and come back. I can do the same.”

“Perhaps,” Vye said, “But I can hold you here.”

“Then I will destroy you. Your soul will no longer exist, in the world of the living, the dead, or even The Abyss. You will cease to be. You will become one with oblivion.”

“You bet,” Vye said. “Come on. Destroy me.”

“This maneuver is futile,” Grimsor growled. “You cannot keep me here forever.”

“I don’t have to,” Vye said. “I just have to keep you here until they open the portal back to the Abyss.”

Grimsor glared at Vye. What was she getting at?

“Are you not following me?” Vye taunted. “Your mind is trapped in the Land of the Dead... Your body is returned to The Abyss... Your two halves are sundered... Any of this scaring you yet?”

Grimsor growled, realizing the trap Vye had set. Of course it was ridiculous to think that the puny mortals back in the living world could open the portal. When Helios and Selene and the others had done it, they were the four most powerful mages in the world. The four who had met him in battle outside Anuen were runts by comparison.

But he did not want to take that chance. If, by some miracle, they did open a portal, Grimsor wanted to get back to the Dreamscape. His mind would go through the portal with him if he was in the Dreamscape, since the Dreamscape connected to his realm. But if he was here...

Grimsor charged at Vye, but before he could reach her, another man appeared in his way. A man who used to be his follower. Johann Frost.

“Frost!” Grimsor shouted. “What are you doing here?”

“Getting my revenge!” he said, and he and Vye attacked Grimsor together.

---

Grimsor took the first swing. His blade cut through the air, forcing Duncan and Landora to dive from their horses, lest they lose their heads. Nuria slipped to the side, hanging onto the saddle like a sidecar to her horse. As soon as the blade had passed, she hopped back in her seat and steered the horse away.

Duncan tumbled through the sand. Landora rolled next to him, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him away, just as Grimsor’s sword plunged into the ground. Everything was moving so fast that Duncan couldn’t process it. He was not used to fighting, and this fight was at the highest level of skill.

Nuria and the Twins spun around Grimsor, blasting him with jolts and bolts of magical energy. But Grimsor wasn’t even distracted by them. He shrugged off the attacks, concentrating on Duncan and Landora, who he rightly perceived to be the main threats.

Duncan hopped to his feet and held the Saintskeep up in front of him. Grimsor’s falchion hammered down on him, but Duncan held his ground. Grimsor battered again, but Duncan just held both hands on the blade, trying not to lose his grip.

“Strike back!” Landora shouted. “Don’t just stand there! Hit him!”

“I can’t!” Duncan shouted back. It was just too much for him to take in. Grimsor’s strikes came faster and faster, and with each one, another day was subtracted from Duncan’s life. He didn’t have the reflexes to deal with this kind of fight.

“Do you trust me?” Landora shouted.

“Yes!” Duncan said.

“Close your eyes!” she returned.

Duncan didn’t think about it. He did what she said. He shut his eyes, and suddenly he wasn’t alone. In the darkness, he could tell there was someone else with him. Someone familiar.

“It’s me,” Landora’s voice said in his mind, “I need you to let go completely. I need you to surrender your mind to me.”

When he opened his eyes, half a second later, he was just a puppet. He was in the same place, but time seemed to slow. He could judge Grimsor’s movements. His arms moved without his aide. He was doing more than standing and surviving. He was lunging, striking, dodging...

For a brief moment, he glanced behind him. Landora’s body was on the ground, unconscious. She was in his mind. She was puppeting him. But she was also vulnerable. Grimsor must have figured that out, for he leapt into the air, flapped his wings, and dove for her body, ready to crush it.

The Twins stepped in, grabbing a hold of Landora’s body and sliding it along the earth, out of the reach of Grimsor’s strike. Duncan charged at the monster, Saintskeep sweeping down on the Demon. But Grimsor turned just in time to parry the assault.

The fight had reached parity. They stood, toe-to-toe, exchanging blows. Neither could get the upper hand. But Duncan could feel in his body as Landora’s mind faltered. She was fatiguing fast from this mental exercise...

---

Vye and Frost were in a similar situation, battling with Grimsor’s mind. Even in the Land of the Dead, trapped as he was, Grimsor was a formidable opponent. Eventually, he landed a blow across Frost’s chest.

“Foul Spawn of the Nine Hells!” Frost shouted. “What have you done?”

“I have removed you,” Grimsor shouted. “The wounds I deliver, even here, cannot be healed. There is no recourse for you.”

Indeed, Frost’s chest was bleeding heavily. Even in this dreamlike state, there was no stopping it.