A Dagger of the Mind (The Imperial Metals) (35 page)

“You should have been loyal to me,” Grimsor said as he fought with Vye. Frost collapsed to his knees, and the blood turned to light. And the light spread over his body until he was just a silhouette of glowing energy. And then he was gone. Forever.

“The same fate will now be yours,” Grimsor said. “You could not defeat me with help, what makes you think you can defeat me alone.”

“Still not alone,” Vye said, “Flopson!”

Flopson popped up from behind the cliff. Where had he been? Who knows. How did he get there? None of your business. All we need to know is that he ran between Grimsor’s legs, somersaulted, and kicked his boots up into the demon’s crotch. As Vye had pointed out, there was nothing there to hit, but Flopson’s mischievous giggle was enough to infuriate anyone.

Grimsor swung at the agile jester, grunting with frustration. He missed, of course, as everyone does when they try to hit Flopson. And in that blink of a distraction, Vye landed a blow in Grimsor’s side...

---

Duncan felt his arms tire as Grimsor landed another strike against the Saintskeep. It wasn’t really his arms tiring. It was Landora’s. But Duncan knew his arms were nothing without her mind. Grimsor’s sword descended on Duncan one more time...

And with the hit, Duncan felt all the energy dissolve from his body. Landora had run out of juice. Her mind had collapsed out of him, and Duncan felt like a new tidal wave had hit his body alone. He was dizzy, disoriented... He had never been this drunk during his years at the Academy...

But something else happened at the same time. Grimsor doubled over. As though someone had jabbed a sword in his side. Duncan didn’t know that Vye was fighting him in his mind, but he knew an opening when he saw one.

He staggered forward, zig-zagging to his target. Wit
h each step, he overcompensated to the left or the right as the world spun around him. But he got in close, lifted the Saintskeep, and jabbed it into Grimsor’s heart. His hands crackled along with the sword. A roaring gust of wind blew over the field.

“Nuria!” Duncan shouted as he dove to the ground, “NOW!!!”

---

Grimsor recoiled in the Land of the Dead as Vye’s sword hit him. And a second later, he recoiled again as Duncan’s sword hit him in the real world.

“No!” he shouted, “No, I must return to my body!”

“Not gonna happen,” Flopson said, juggling three balls. Because, you know, why not?

“Let me through!” Grimsor pleaded as he fell to his hands and knees. He flapped his wings, but even those couldn’t lift him from the ground.

“Why would we allow you to leave?” Vye asked.

“I will hunt you!” Grimsor shouted. “I will punish your families and your descendants! I will pursue your bloodlines forever!”

“You don’t have forever,” Vye needled him. “You don’t even have a minute. And I want you to spend that minute understanding that after today, there will be nothing left of you.”

---

Nuria felt the energy the second the Saintskeep broke Grimsor’s skin. She didn’t even have to reach out for it. It was so evident that there was energy there, she just reached out and grabbed it.

It was a fully-realized spell. Complex. Powerful. But it was already formed. She didn’t need to learn it. She just needed to cast it. So she dug her mental fingers into the waves of energy and shaped the explosion to her liking. The Twins stood beside her, redirecting any energy she missed the first time around.

A bolt of lightning struck down on Grimsor, but instead of dissipating in an instant, it stayed. A strand of pure energy crackling down from the heavens. As though the Gods were holding him in an electrical leash. The demon howled in pain. He tried to move, but he couldn’t. He tried to fight back, but the Spell was so vast and commanding, he could do nothing against it. He was fighting against two thousand years of power.

The base of the lightning bolt widened, much like the smoke doors did when the mages used Shadow Portals. It opened up into a round circle of pure white-blue light. Blinding. Even hours before sunrise, the field was aglow brighter than any summer noon...

---

Vye stood beside Grimsor, who howled in this world as well. Flopson strolled over to the cliffside.

“Good seeing you again, stinky,” he said to her. “But I think I’m gonna wake up now.”

“Don’t be a stranger,” Vye said.

“I can’t be a stranger,” he retorted. “I’m Flopson.”

And he casually hopped off the cliff. Not to his death, of course, but back to the Dreamscape. And from there, to awaken in his mortal body. It was thousands of miles away, but it was safe and sound. And perhaps, Vye thought, now that the conflict with Grimsor was over, he would live a normal life.

Or, at least, normal for Flopson.

“You have defeated me,” Grimsor grumbled, as his body collapsed, “But I have one final victory. When I am destroyed, I will take you with me.”

“Sorry to rain on your parade,” Vye said, “But I’m not going to let you.”

“You will have no choice,” Grimsor managed to cackle, even through his intense pain. “Did you think you could just destroy a demon without consequence? When I am undone, there will be a great release of energy, both here and in the living world. And you will be utterly disintegrated by it.”

“I’ll just leave,” Vye retorted, but now she was unsure.

“If you do, then I will also leave to the Dreamscape,” Grimsor said. “If you want to be rid of me forever, you have to hold me here with your will. And then you will be gone as well.”

Vye looked around the Lunapera. Was it true? Was Grimsor trying to trick her? Did he just hope to take her out as he became oblivion himself?

But she knew it was true. She could feel his essence trying to force its way out of this realm. And she was holding it at bay. Locking him in. If she let up, even for a second, he would be gone.

“Very well,” Vye said, “Others died to defeat you. I get to die twice and finish the job.”

---

Nuria and the Twins held the forces of the epic spell together, opening the gate wider, forcing Grimsor’s body through it...

For a moment, the spell faltered. Just for a second. And Nuria could see that one of the Twins had dropped unconscious. He had passed out from over exertion. She and the other Twin redoubled their efforts, holding the spell formation together, but a second later, the other one dropped.

Nuria was alone on the field. The spell was almost done, but now she was casting it herself. And she knew she couldn’t do it. Not alone.

Around her, the armies had all stopped fighting. There was nothing to do but watch the light show. Duncan took advantage of the momentary lapse of battling, and got the remaining knights to carry Landora and the Twins away from Grimsor. They retreated up towards the Castle, nobody bothering to stand in their way.

Duncan rode one of the lighter horses up to Nuria. He dismounted behind her and put his hands on her shoulders.

“It’s too powerful!” Nuria shouted over the constant wind. “I can’t do this alone.”

“You’re not alone,” Duncan said, “I’m right here with you.”

“You can’t help with the spell.”

“No, but I believe in you, Nuria. You’re a remarkable young woman. You’ve already done the impossible. There’s nobody I would want on this battlefield right now more than you.”

“Not even Landora?”

“Not even her. She would never have thought to bring Vye back by invading her body. She would never have taken over a Statue to fight a mage. If Vye had chosen anyone else to train, anyone with less imagination, we would all be dead right now. It’s you. Only you...”

Nuria smiled. There was a look in her eyes that spoke of mountains of courage and self-assurance. She believed she could do anything now.

And so she did. She reached out, captured the full essence of the spell, and finished it. The Portal crackled with energy, opening to its full size. And Grimsor’s body was vacuumed into The Abyss...

---

Vye could feel the energy building up. The residual sensation of the Portal in the waking world was echoing in the Land of the Dead. And she knew Grimsor’s demise, and her own, was imminent.

“I’ll take it from here,” said Argos, who was suddenly standing behind her.

“What are you doing here?” Vye asked, startled.

“As Grimsor weakens,” Argos answered, “I am beginning to remember a time before he was in my life. Ages ago. And I think he led me astray.”

He marched up to the ailing demon, like an executioner stepping up to the gallows.

“I owe him this,” he said, “Go! Get out of here!”

Vye blanked her mind, trying to clear her way out of the Land of the Dead.

“Hello, old friend,” Argos whispered in Grimsor’s ear. The great demon shouted in agony. His body was gone. His mind was alone. Disappearing into oblivion.

And then he exploded...

Chapter
62: The Last King

The sun rose.

The enemy soldiers all retreated or surrendered. They had been driven so long by the will of Grimsor, and so sure of his invulnerability, that they were unprepared for his defeat. The ones who could get their wits about them fled on the rafts, though many were hunted down by Corthos and the fleet. Others simply collapsed and wept. The Council rounded them up and locked them away.

Duncan and Nuria spent some time recovering from their wounds, but with Landora and the Twins healing them, they recovered quickly. When the Portal was completed, Duncan had grabbed the girl, mounted his horse, and galloped away as fast as the beast could carry them. They were clear of the blast, but still knocked over by the ensuing shockwave. The burst of energy swept through Anuen, breaking every glass item in Anuen and the neighboring city of Dalton. A very pregnant woman went into labor. An old man died. But other then that and the collapsed south wall, Anuen was still standing.

Jareld and Duncan worked hand in hand to get the City back on its feet. Duncan, during his recovery, would discuss his orders with Jareld. Jareld would advise. It was a meeting of the minds, as the two of them would figure out the best course of action. And then Jareld would execute those orders, helping the people recover from the disaster.

The Turin were helpful at first, though finally they decided to head back to their own lands. Grimsor’s defeat seemed to have cleared everyone’s minds. The Turin hoped that their Regent would also be fully recovered.

---

Landora visited Duncan in the War Room, which continued to be the hub of activity as every hand on deck helped sort out the mess.

“I hope the events of these last few weeks...” she said, “Will help keep the peace between our two peoples.”

Duncan could see that she was trying to keep a formal tone while in the company of all the other Council members and servants scurrying to and fro.

“I promised no harm would come to your people,” Duncan said.

“Well, lucky thing you turned into the King,” she quipped, “Or I still wouldn’t believe you.”

She leaned in, close enough for a whisper.

“When I was in your mind,” she said, “I saw your true feelings. You opened yourself up to me so completely...”

“Landora,” Duncan whispered back, “I have to help my people. And you have to help yours.”

“Haven’t you figured it out? What this was all about?” Landora said. “They’re all the same people.”

“I don’t know what you thought you saw in my mind...” Duncan tried to suppress the conversation.

“I want you to know that I love you just as much as you love me,” she said. “And you cannot pretend you don’t, because I know it to be true.”

They leaned their foreheads against each other, unable to express themselves as they wanted to at this time and place. But perhaps there were other times and places.

“Goodbye,” Duncan said, “For now.”

---

Jareld felt deja vu as the cleanup effort continued. He had seen the aftermath of a major battle years ago, at the end of the Argosian War. This one was different, in a lot of ways. A different city. A different kind of enemy. Jareld realized that he, himself, was different.

He spent his days with Duncan and the Council, doing everything he could to get the City and the Kingdom back on track. And he spent his nights with Emily, as they rekindled their romance. It wasn’t all easy. Jareld was different, but so was Emily. And they both realized it. Still, they loved each other. And they were both certain of it.

Late in the afternoon, after the Turin had departed, Duncan asked for a private audience with Jareld. There was a question which had been ignored for the past few weeks in the interest of keeping everything organized. There was an issue that was overlooked while everyone got back on their feet.

“I heard what you did, while I was gone,” Duncan said to Jareld in the audience chamber of the Castle, “You completely reorganized the government. Made it so we didn’t need a King.”

“Yes, but, at the time, I thought we would need a new form of government. Nobody will listen to me now that there’s a real descendent of the Rones.”

“They’ll listen to me,” Duncan said.

“How’s that?”

“I will take the rank of King,” Duncan said. “But then you and I are going to work together to implement your idea. I don’t want the Kingdom... the country to be dependent on bloodlines anymore. And I don’t want that for my children.”

“You don’t have children,” Jareld said.

“Not yet.”

“Well, even if your plan works, can you do me a favor?”

“What?”

“Have lots of kids. And only have kids with your wife. And make sure your wife only has kids with you. Because if I have to figure out this bloodline shit one more time...”

And the two of them laughed.

---

So it was. Duncan was crowned the King in a ceremony one month after the Battle of Anuen. And during his speech, he announced the end of the line of Kings. He declared that in exactly one year, he would step down, and in his place, an elected official would take over. The Council would remain to balance the power of the new Leader, but they would also be elected, not appointed.

The festivities lasted a day and a night. This time, Emily wouldn’t let Jareld out of her sights. Luke Vye arrived from Deliem, now with a clearer head, and in a smaller ceremony, he was appointed the new Count of Deliem in place of his dead sister.

Rajani arrived from the Turinheld with a delegation of her people. She had stepped down as the Regent, but she came to apologize for her actions. She knew it wasn’t her fault, but she also knew, politically, she couldn’t remain in charge. And the peace between the Turin and the Rone was too important to her.

Together, the Rone and the Turin celebrated, sharing stories of their victories and losses. If the Peace Festival felt forced, the Coronation of King Duncan the First felt like a party.

Of course, Landora had come down with the Turin entourage. She was now the official leader of the Turin-Guarde. Along with the Twins, they were training a whole new generation in the arts of magic. She boasted that they already had four new students.

But, of course, she wasn’t there to boast, or for diplomatic reasons. For a few hours, she and Duncan disappeared into the Castle. Nobody really noticed. There were too many songs to sing, dances to dance, and drinks to chug. It was Nuria who went looking for them. And when she found them, she wished she hadn’t.

There they were, naked, holding each other in their arms, looking into each other’s eyes. And Nuria knew at that moment what true love was, for it was so clearly in the space between those two that it could have no other definition. But she also knew what jealousy was, for it burned her to the core. In her mind, you could only look at one person that way in your whole life. And Duncan was wasting his chance looking at Landora.

“I have to teach the new Turin-Guarde,” Landora whispered. “And you must rule your Kingdom.”

“Only for a year,” Duncan said.

“But even then, how will we be together?”

“I will live in the Turinheld, of course.”

“You would do that?”

“For you, I would live on the moon.”

“You will be far from home. From the ones who love you.”

“But I will be with the one I love,” Duncan said.

Nuria fled into the hallways, stifling back tears. She had saved the Kingdom because Duncan had made her believe in herself. Because she loved Duncan. But she hadn’t realized until just then that sometimes, love could be a lie.

---

Back at the party, Jareld and Emily sat together on a bench, laughing with a group of partygoers. A man stumbled up to the crowd, seemingly too drunk to stand. He bumped into James Avonshire before he caught his balance.

“Excuse me,” the man said, “Can you tell me where the stage is?”

“The stage?” Emily asked.

“Yeah,” the man said, “I’m supposed to do a juggling act.”

“Flopson!” Jareld said, recognizing the man. He embraced the jester, who seemed to sober up now that his entrance had been made.

“What’s up, stinky?” Flopson asked.

“Nothing much, smelly,” Jareld said.

“No reason to start calling people names,” the jester quipped. Jareld introduced Flopson to everybody, then directed him to the stage. It was only when he was gone that Sir Avonshire looked down at his feet.

“That’s strange,” he said. “Where have my bootlaces gone?”

The rest of the group checked their own footwear. And, indeed, they were all missing their laces.

“Ladies and Gentlemen!” Flopson called from the stage, holding up a cat’s cradle of bootlaces, “Welcome to the Coronation of the newest King, Duncan Smelly the First! Enjoy him while you can, because we’re bound to have another one in a couple of years!”

---

When
Duncan returned to the
festivities
,
he pulled Jareld and Emily up to the stage. He hushed the crowd.

“I know I’ve already made my speech tonight,” he said, “But I think we all need to thank the historian Jareld for getting us out of another mess.” The crowd cheered. “And let’s not forget Lady Emily for her part in getting the Council out of the woods.” Another cheer. “And now, at the risk of making too many declarations on one day, I’m going to make one more. And I think everyone’s going to like this one. Jareld, kneel before the throne.”

Jareld did so. Duncan raised a sword over his shoulder. A plain old sword. The Saintskeep had been destroyed in the battle. The hilt was being kept as a piece of history, but all the magic had gone out of the weapon.

“Master Jareld, do you pledge yourself to the betterment of the Kingdom of Rone, and swear to always fight for the people of that great country?”

“I do so pledge myself,” Jareld said.

“Then I hereby knight you Sir Jareld of Brimford,” Duncan said, placing the sword once on each shoulder. “Rise and join the ranks of the knights of the Kingdom.”

He stood, and the crowd cheered once more. Duncan waved everyone to get back to the dancing and drinking. And Jareld mouthed a quick, “Thank you” to the King. Knighting him was a small and overdue gesture, but it meant something very important for him. He could now marry Emily.

So the two of them agreed that they would be married in a couple of months. And Jareld would sell the manor house he owned as the Baron Dubon, and they would buy a house in the countryside, with a balcony overlooking a field of grass. Of course, they would only be able to visit there occasionally, as they now both had jobs in Anuen. But it would be waiting for them when they were ready.