Read Lords Of Existence (Book 8) Online
Authors: Ron Collins
The Lectodinian forces were too vast.
Images of bloodshed flashed through his mind. He saw Elman with a knife in his chest, a knife that Will himself had thrown. He saw Ettril Dor-Entfar lying in a pool of his own blood. He recalled the night of terror brought by Hezarin and her liege Neuma, and he remembered Hezarin so publicly sacrificing Neuma when it became convenient to do so.
The map foretold of more bloodshed.
More sacrifice.
His gaze went to the model of the northern mountains.
Zutrian Esta, High Superior of the Lectodinian order, was probably sitting in the center of those mountains right now. He was probably looking at a map no different from this one. Will’s chest tingled. It was strange to breathe. He felt close to Zutrian Esta, somehow. His mind seemed to spread toward the north, then, and he felt a power rise up in him that he did not understand.
“I see,” he said almost to himself. “Amanda was right.”
That was when it got quiet and he noticed Amanda and Darien staring at him.
He smiled. Then he cleared his throat and took a firmer stance.
He knew what he needed to do.
Will set a gate and funneled the essence of All of Existence into it. He felt the familiar flavor of magic. But this was a free power, oddly unencumbered. It was a power that flowed straight from Existence rather than funneled through the plane of magic. It warmed him as it pooled in his chest. He channeled it and opened another gate. It felt strange to work with such freeform impulse, but he knew what he was doing as he followed the flow. He understood it as surely as if Garrick himself was piloting a raft directly behind him. He was comfortable with this power, familiar with it in an odd way.
He focused on a mountain to the north, a place inhabited by the only person on the plane who could change this.
Then Will put his hand into the air, spoke a word of magic, and stepped into time itself.
Chapter 20
Will emerged in the middle of a cavern.
It was a comfortable place, well lit by afternoon sunlight that filtered through the open gap that looked out over the rugged mountainscape. Benches lay scattered about, and the residue of magic combined with the bright light to give the space a sharpness. It smelled of warm oil. Tables and other counters held the trappings of spell work.
Zutrian Esta was dressed in a simple outfit of dark pants and a shirt of blue fabric.
“I told you,” he said, wheeling angrily toward Will, “I wanted to be alone!”
He started at Will’s presence, then stammered. “What …?”
“Zutrian Esta?” Will said.
The high superior stood taller and glanced to the closed door.
“Who are you?”
Will smiled. “It doesn’t really matter, does it?”
The Lectodinian prepared a spell.
Will let his mind follow Zutrian’s work, and timed his casting to divert the flow of magestuff away before it could bloom. It was easy, really. This link Garrick had left inside him was faster than the ties to Talin, and it was fueled by grander energies. It was almost the same as casting while in Existence itself.
Zutrian’s face grew ashen.
“What do you want?”
“I want you to call back your attack of Dorfort. And any other you might have planned across the rest of the plane.”
Zutrian laughed.
“You just felt what I’m capable of.”
Zutrian grew smug. “I don’t care who you are, boy. You can’t stop Dorfort from falling.”
“You’re right about that. I’m just one mage, and a new one at that. Even though I’m faster than you and probably stronger than you, I can’t defeat the whole of your forces alone. But, you see, Master Esta, I think you’re making one very big mistake.”
“And that would be?”
“You are assuming I would fight to save Dorfort.”
“But …”
“Oh, don’t get me wrong. I like Dorfort just fine. I want it to be safe. I have friends there.” He thought about Garrick. “Family, even. But you’re probably right about what would happen if I
fought
to save Dorfort. I’m sure you would win—even a simple boy like me can do those maths.”
Zutrian sat against the edge of the table. An indulgent smile crawled over his lips. “So … what are you doing here?”
“Here’s what you are going to do,” Will said. “You are going to contact your leaders, and you are going to call off the attack. If you don’t do this right now, I will kill you.”
“You understand,” Zutrian said, his face growing smug. “That killing me—assuming that were even possible—will not stop my Lectodinians. They will still control Dorfort, and therefore the whole plane of Adruin.”
“I don’t think you’re listening,” Will replied.
“I’m listening just fine.”
“Not really. If you were listening, you would understand that if I have to kill you, I will then go to your next in charge, and I will offer that same agreement. And if I must kill that leader, I’ll continue to work my way down your chain until I find someone who will decide to stop this thing. It’s really that simple. I figure this way, if nothing else, we’ll know your leaders are all truly committed to their cause.”
“You’re just a boy,” Zutrian said as a redness came to his cheeks.
Power rose within the Lectodinian, and Will shut it down once again. He didn’t know how long he could draw on Existence, but he hoped it was a good sign that he wasn’t feeling tired.
“I’ve killed mages who were planning to murder my friends before,” Will said. “I have no problems doing it again.”
Zutrian glared. He stood taller, and smoothed his shirts. “Be gone,” he said. “I have no more time to waste on you,” He strode toward the doorway.
Will flowed Existence through his gates, and the door slammed shut.
Zutrian whirled. He hesitated, then took a step toward Will.
Will cast a golden barrier between them.
Zutrian, racing forward, crashed headfirst into it before collapsing into a heap on the floor.
“Halsten!” he called.
“As I was saying, Master Esta,” Will said. “I do not intend to fight your forces, but I will ensure that the man or woman who is ultimately responsible for the pain and suffering that will happen as a result of his or her order—will be dead. Perhaps this is fine with you. Maybe you are actually willing to give your life for your vision. But you have to realize that what I am going to do means that your vision of a world ruled by Lectodinians will occur only if every member of your staff is equally strong in their belief in that future as you are, and then only if the people in your armies are so dedicated to your goals that they will fight to make it all happen without such a command.”
Zutrian Esta pressed himself to stand up in a series of slow, ginger movements. He was an old man, Will saw. A man who was afraid.
A rumbling came to the door, but it did not open.
Zutrian’s brow knitted.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Do you think every member of your staff is willing to make such a sacrifice? Do they all believe in you? Do you think they will all die for your cause?”
Zutrian stammered.
Will smiled, enjoying the expression on the high superior’s face as the picture he had drawn fell into place. He thought about Darien and Amanda back in the war chamber. He thought about Garrick, and about the rest of the champions across the Thousand Worlds.
“I don’t know what your people will say,” Will continued. “But, of course, the only question that matters right now is this one: Zutrian Esta, High Superior of the Lectodinian order of mages, are
you
willing to die for your cause?”
Zutrian gave him a cold glare.
Then he took a single breath, and cast his eyes downward.
Will smiled.
“All right, then,” he said. “Let’s get this thing shut down.”
Epilogue
Garrick opened his eyes. He was lying on his side. The sheets felt like stone weight against his legs. His ribs burned with pain so sharp that even shallow breathing hurt. He was warm, despite the cool breeze from the window, a breeze that carried hints of the Blue Lake from across the room.
The aroma of cold soup came from the stand beside his bed.
He felt empty inside, broken in some basic way that he couldn’t understand. Braxidane’s magic had been ripped from him when the planewalkers had died. That did not surprise him. He assumed it would happen. But his own magic—the structure of his gates, and the ability to call to the plane of magic—was also torn and tattered. He felt its loss as if it were a broken bone somewhere deep inside him.
Unlike a real bone, though, Garrick didn’t think this would heal.
His magic was gone.
All of it. But the planewalkers were gone, too. Forever. He lay back and let the ramifications of that roll over him. It felt good. He had won his freedom. Whatever that meant.
Both Amanda and Darien had been in to speak with him earlier, so he knew the walls around the government center still lay in ruins, but that the city of Dorfort still stood. He knew the Lectodinians had stood down, and that Will had something to do with it. The jangle of war harnesses in the lane outside all morning stood testimony to the fact that Dorfort was still on alert, but fear of imminent war seemed to have been quelled.
A nurse brought him a fresh tray, then retreated.
Once he thought he was alone, Garrick rolled over to find Will sitting in a chair propped against the far wall.
“You’re awake?” Will said.
Garrick nodded. “As that is.”
The boy seemed taller. His angular body seemed bigger.
“I understand the Lectodinians have not come,” Garrick said.
“No,” Will replied. “I had a conversation with Lord Esta. I don’t expect they will be attacking anyone any time soon.”
Garrick smiled despite his pain. “I knew you could do it.”
“Nothing more than you would have done.”
“Hmm.”
Will sat forward and the chair came to a rest on the floor. “What did you do to me?”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t be like the planewalkers,” Will said, his voice growing firm. “You knew I would be linked when you were finished.”
“No.” Garrick shook his head.
Knowing Will was here was beginning to make him feel better. He sat up, and motioned Will to help him with the soup. Will spooned some. The simple tastes of broth and fowl made him happy.
“I didn’t know if it would work,” he finally said. “But I admit I hoped. You’ll be a fine mage, Will. You are young, but you are the right person for this responsibility.”
“But I have no sponsor now, thanks to you and the champions.”
“Even better.”
“What do you mean?”
“You are a champion like none other, Will. Your magic comes from Existence itself, but you are tied to no one. You are beholden to no higher power.”
“Will you teach me what you know?”
“What I can. You should learn from everyone, though. That’s how Sunathri would have had you learn. You’ll be a stronger mage for it.”
Will nodded. “You will always be my superior,” he said.
“I’m not sure that’s such a good thing.”
“I am.”
Garrick smiled, and this time spooned the soup himself. He put the bowl down, and stretched his arms, wincing at the pain. At least he could breathe a bit now. That much was good.
“The people won’t see it, though. People don’t change.”
Will shrugged. “Darien says that people change as the world around them does.”
Garrick thought about that.
Perhaps it was true. It would make him feel better if it were true, anyway.
There would still be problems. Conflict would still happen, and some men would always strive to take advantage of others. It was the way of people. But at least now there would no planewalkers to interfere, and with Will holding the politicians at bay perhaps the people stood a chance to decide for themselves what was right. Garrick thought about Sunathri, a woman he now knew beyond doubt that he would have loved had they had the proper time together. She would be happy.
He nodded to himself and looked at the boy. Will was Adruin’s champion now. He was a young man who would shape the world in whatever way was to come.
“You’re a good man, Will,” he said.
He hoped that would last forever.
* * * * *
This is the end of
Lords of Existence
. You can find other work by Ron Collins (including all other episodes of the
Saga of the God-Touched Mage
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The Saga of the God-Touched Mage includes:
Glamour of the God-Touched
Trail of the Torean
Target of the Orders
Gathering of the God-Touched
Pawn of the Planewalker
Changing of the Guard
Lord of the Freeborn
Lords of Existence
APPENDIX