Fallen Magician (The Magician Rebellion) (18 page)

The walls of the pass quickly fell behind them and as they reached a more open plain as the mountains gently sloped down Marian took one last look back at the city she abandoned, some miles away. Everec stood undisturbed against the moon’s faint light. There were no signs of the war that had just been waged there as if none of it had even happened at all, but the city was lost all the same.

At the touch of a hand upon her shoulder, Marian turned to see Donovan looking at her. “I lived in Everec most of my life. To lose my home and my friends is no small thing, so believe me when I say there was nothing you could have done to stop this.”

Marian forced a smile and thanked the man for his kind words, but she could not bring herself to look him in the eye and gauge if he was speaking the truth.

The group traveled through the night until they came across a small makeshift camp set up by some of the survivors who had left before them. There they made their tents and rested. It would be a long journey north to Warlord Nightwind’s palace and Marian dreaded telling the man that she had lost one of his cities more with every step that drew her closer to him. He had entrusted her to put an end to the orc raids and instead she lost the southern mountain region to them with barely any struggle. She could have fought to the last man, but that would have accomplished little more than driving up the death toll. Hopefully Lord Nightwind would see it that way.

Sari sat alone brooding just outside of her tent. Marian knew well how much the elf considered life to be a gift. Even on the occasions when it was necessary for her to kill, Sari was clearly aware of the heavy cost being paid. The fact that they had to leave many brave men and women behind must surely be weighing on her mind.

“
A copper for your thoughts?” Marian asked trying to sound casual. She took the elf’s measure and tried to ignore Sari’s sudden depression.

“
I was thinking about Sane. Do you think he is dead?” the elf looked up at Marian with tears in her big oval eyes. “He would never have abandoned me knowing that I was in danger. It just isn’t in his nature.”

The thought of Sane killing Bertran right in front of her sprang to Marian’s mind. “Sometimes people can surprise you,” she said without thinking. When she saw the hurt look in Sari’s eyes, Marian hastily added, “I mean I am sure he is still alive even if he was unable to help us.”

“
Do you think so?” Sari perked up at the thought. “Perhaps I can sneak back into the city using the tunnel and rescue him!”

Marian’s mind raced looking for a reason that the elf would accept for not going back into Everec without telling her that Sane was probably dead. Fortunately, Donovan came to her rescue.

“
That would be foolish,” he announced coming to sit beside them, “The magician is either dead, fled, or in league with the orcs. Any of those scenarios means that he does not need your help.” His words were harsh, but Marian was glad that she was not the one who had to say them. Seeing the elf’s face begin to twist in sorrow at his words, Donovan added apologetically, “I am sorry if my words cut you, but I would not see you throw your life away without reason.”

“
Nor would I,” Marian added.

The elf nodded, clearly disappointed.

It was nearly noon when the camp broke and they continued north. Sari spoke to no one for the rest of that day.

The powerful melody of
The Tale of the Undead Isle
emboldened the tired warrior’s weary spirit as Tomlin’s fingers danced across the neck of his ever-present lute. It was the song of a mighty berserker called Targan and his quest to save a beautiful maiden. As the story goes Targan traveled to Winterbane Isle on a perilous journey to rescue the lovely maiden from the home of a powerful necromancer and his army of undead walkers and spirits. Armed with nothing more than his mighty, but still agile great sword and his undaunted spirit Targan fought his way through the hordes of undead monsters and slew the evil necromancer, saving his ladylove in the process. Kellen felt the song wash over him like cool rainwater reinvigorating him. In his current condition as prisoner of the Collective he imagined himself as Targan and knew that he would somehow find a way to be victorious over his captors.

“
Thank you for that, Tomlin. You truly have a gift for song,” Kellen offered his hand through the cell bar in appreciation.

Tomlin reached out, but thought better of it and pulled his hand away. “We must not forget our places,
prisoner
,” Tomlin emphasized the last word, but his voice was touched with kindness.

Kellen withdrew his hand, but kept his eyes on the bard. “I told you before that I am not your enemy and I meant that.”

“
You keep saying that…” Tomlin trailed off. His eyes showed indecision and he cast his glance at a wall where a small window allowed natural light and fresh air to come into the partially underground dungeon. When Tomlin turned back to Kellen he said worriedly, “They’re going to kill you if you don’t tell them what they want to know.”

“
They will kill me either way,” Kellen said with surety. “The longer I can hold out, the longer I live.”

“
It does not have to be that way,” Tomlin pleaded, “If you tell them what they want to know, then I will speak with Alia on your behalf. She is the head of the Collective and will listen to me and Byrn is on our side as well. He does not want to see you die either.”

“
Byrn Lightfoot is a betrayer,” Kellen answered flatly, “He has betrayed his former master, his kingdom, and now me. Do not trust him. He will betray you too if it serves his purposes.”

“
Dammit, Kellen, what secrets does Baj hold that is worth your life?”

“
None, but once that is known your masters would kill me. Baj has no weaknesses that I know of or it would have been remedied. The one fault that Byrn exploited will not work a second time. The sewers are probably covered in runes by now and heavily patrolled.” A small thought tickled at the back of Kellen’s consciousness, but he pushed it away. Tomlin would help him. “Nothing short of an army with massive siege weapons could hope to get in and any magic users that somehow made it into the prison would be robbed of their powers in a matter of minutes.”

“
Then what are you holding back? I can tell there is some secret you are protecting,” the bard asked sounding genuinely surprised.

“
Byrn- he is a prince.”

Tomlin was rarely at a loss for words, but the revelation of Byrn’s heritage left him struck dumb. Finally, he asked, “Why wouldn’t Byrn say anything about this?” It was only the first of several questions that came to the bard’s mind.

“
Who knows?” Kellen shrugged, growing agitated. “Maybe his father didn’t trust him enough to tell him the truth when he made Byrn a free magician.” He scratched the back of his head banishing a minor itch.

“
I hate to break it to you, but that is not much of a secret. Even if Byrn was a prince, which sounds ludicrous by the way, he isn’t acknowledged. It would be a meaningless title.”

Kellen smiled knowingly, “You are far removed from the world of politics. In the right hands such knowledge could be very dangerous.” He began to scratch his head again and looked around for bugs. The dungeon was decidedly well maintained making a bug infestation seem unlikely, but what else could be causing that infernal itch?

“
Are you feeling alright?” Tomlin asked, but Kellen ignored him.

Snap out of it, you fool! He is using you!
A familiar voice shouted in Kellen’s head.

Stark clarity washed over Kellen like a fog lifting before him. Tomlin’s spell was so subtle that the knight never thought to raise his guard against it. The bard must have woven the spell into his song to enchant Kellen making him feel at ease and willing to talk, but even in his unguarded state there was a piece of the knight’s mind that resisted the magic. It had tried to warn him, but he failed to heed it until it was too late.

A gasp of pain let loose from Kellen’s lips as he fell forward clutching the bars as he struggled to stand. Tomlin grabbed at Kellen through the bars and tried to lift the large man to his feet. “Come on, old man, to your feet,” Tomlin grunted.

The Kenzai master’s fist flashed with a bright blue light as he seized Tomlin’s shirt and pulled him against the bars roughly. Now it was Tomlin’s turn to gasp as he felt his magical essence drained from his body in a matter of seconds. Kellen ripped the cell key ring from the bard’s pocket and released the teenager long enough to get his cage open. A stunned Tomlin made no attempt to escape and was tossed into the cell in Kellen’s place before he knew what had happened, but Kellen did not close the cage just yet.

“
Where is my armor?” demanded the knight; his voice boomed with threat and authority.

“
How did you-?“ Tomlin stammered feeling something he had not experienced in years. Fear.

Kellen bent down and gripped Tomlin by the throat. “My armor,” he repeated.

“
Alia’s study,” Tomlin choked out the words under the big man’s grip, “Up the stairs, two side hallways down on the left.”

“
If you are lying-,” Kellen threatened.

“
I’m not,” Tomlin’s eyes pleaded for mercy.

Kellen released his stranglehold and Tomlin fell to the floor gasping for air. The cell door slammed shut trapping the powerless enchanter. The bard tried to call out for help, but his throat was too sore to produce anything above a whisper. The Kenzai master took no notice as he ascended the stairway leading to the castle’s main hall. He must get his armor back if he was to have any chance of escaping this estate overrun with renegade magicians and finding his way back to civilization.

First solve one problem before worrying about another, he reminded himself.
Find your armor, and then worry about how you’re going to escape.

Kellen paused at the wooden door at the top of the stone stairway. Beyond this door dozens of magicians could be lying in wait… or it could be empty. “Only one way to find,” Kellen murmured as he pushed open the door with one hand balling the other in fist that glowed brightly with Tomlin’s stored magical essence in anticipation of an ambush. Instead he found an empty albeit large hall. At the right end there stood a large pair of oak doors that likely led to a reception hall or throne room. To the left the hall continued farther down out of view that would likely lead outside and was honeycombed with smaller corridors on either side.

Silently, the warrior entered the main hall, but stayed near the wall as he moved in the direction of Alia’s study. He moved as quickly as he safely could without making any noise and only stopping when he was behind support columns to listen for the footfalls of approaching magicians. In this way Kellen traversed the hall until he reached the path Tomlin had indicated. It was on the opposite side of the hall. Hearing no one coming, Kellen dashed across the open area between the columns coming to a halt only once he reached the opposite end.

Kellen stepped out from behind the support column, but immediately slipped back into the shadows when he heard the shuffling of footsteps behind him. The warrior sighed in relief briefly when he saw four brown-robed men entering the main hall from one of the other corridors. Early apprentices who had yet to identify their dominant school of magic traditionally wore brown robes. For a master of the Kenzai Order like Kellen this group would pose no threat to him as long as they did not raise an alarm and bring the wrath of the masters down on him.

“
Did you see that little rock golem that Master Byrn made?” asked one of the brown-robes excitedly, “I heard it was following him around like a little pup and doing tricks!”

Another brown-robe laughed, “Do not be foolish! It was just lifeless rock. Master Byrn was animating it as a joke making it act like a pet.”

The quartet continued down another hall taking no notice of Kellen crouched in a corner.

“
Still it was impressive,” replied the first amicably as they wandered out of earshot.

Alia’s study was not far down the hall and Kellen ran into no more of the castle’s magical residents. He tried the door carefully and found it unlocked. The door opened slowly and Kellen popped his head in to find the study empty. “Were they trying to make the Collective appear larger than they really are?” he wondered aloud.