The Dark Warden (Book 6) (36 page)

Ardrhythain shouted and thrust his staff with both hands. White fire ripped from the staff and struck the sphere of nothingness, and the globe shuddered, coming to a halt. Yet a moment later it resumed its slow, inexorable advance. Ardrhythain kept shouting, and for the first time strain appeared on his eternal face, sweat beading on his brow. The Warden’s voice howled around them, screaming maledictions. 

A deathly chill washed over Ridmark as the globe drew closer. This was magic beyond his comprehension, yet he had seen countless battles, and he could tell that Ardrhythain was losing this one. 

Yet he could think of no way to aid the archmage.

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Calliande staggered to her feet as Arandar rose, the worst of his wounds healed. 

She could not remember feeling so exhausted. Even in her past life, when she had still been the Keeper of Avalon, she doubted she had ever been so tired. Calliande reeled on her feet, trying to keep her balance. The great globe of darkness, the manifestation of the devouring void, rolled towards them, and Ardrhythain strained to hold it back. She sensed the clashing powers, the archmage struggling against the enraged Warden, and realized the two ancient wizards were evenly matched. 

Anything could tip the balance.

Calliande stepped forward.

“No,” said Ridmark, “stay away from…”

Before he could stop her, she seized Ardrhythain’s staff and poured all her remaining power into it, adding her strength to his own.

Compared to his power, to the Warden’s power, her own strength was nothing. So might a mosquito seek to attack an elephant. But the added force of her attack distracted the Warden for the merest fraction of a second.

That was all the time Ardrhythain needed.

The white fire blazed, and the great ball of darkness hurtled towards Urd Morlemoch with terrific speed.

All the strength drained out of Calliande, and she was unconscious before she struck the ground. 

###

“Run!” shouted Ardrhythain. “That will not distract the Warden for long.” The sphere of darkness struck Urd Morlemoch, and blue fire and shadow snarled around the fortress. “Run!” 

The others staggered to the east, running as fast as they could manage. Calliande collapsed to the ground, and Ridmark knelt, picked her up, slung her over his shoulders, and kept running. She was not heavy, but he was utterly spent, and his shoulders and back and knees screamed with the strain. He stumbled, almost fell, and then Morigna caught his arm and helped him catch his balance.

Then he kept running.

Strange, horrible sounds came from behind him, accompanied by the noises of tearing earth and shattering stone, and Ridmark fought an overwhelming compulsion to stop and look back. For a moment he remembered the tale of Lot’s wife from the Book of Genesis. Perhaps if Ridmark looked back the Warden would turn him into a pillar of salt. 

They climbed to the top of a barren hill, Ridmark’s legs burning with the effort. Ardrhythain stopped and turned, one hand raised to shield his eyes as he looked back at Urd Morlemoch…

The shock wave knocked Ridmark from his feet, Calliande tumbling from his shoulders, and a moment later the roar filled his ears as the ground shook and heaved. 

Later Ridmark’s senses returned, and he forced himself to stand and look back.

Urd Morlemoch still stood upon its hill, untouched and unbroken. Yet everything between it and the hill upon which they stood was a molten, burning wasteland. Hills had been shattered and thrown down, and a great plume of steam rose behind Urd Morlemoch as molten stone poured off the cliff and into the sea. 

“What happened?” Ridmark heard himself say. 

“The Warden’s spell collapsed,” said Ardrhythain. “The backlash of energy was…notable.”

Jager let out a laugh that had an edge of hysteria. “Do all high elves have such a gift for understatement?” 

“We’re out,” said Mara. “Away from the Warden’s influence. I doubt any of his creatures survived that.”

“Then…then we did it?” said Morigna, leaning on her staff. Ridmark put his arm around her shoulders, and she slumped against him, so tired that the display of weakness did not seem to trouble her. “We actually did it?” 

“Thanks to Ardrhythain,” said Ridmark.

Ardrhythain shook his head. “I intervened at the last possible moment. If not for your determination, if not for the valor of your companions, you would have been dead long before I could reach you.”

“Then we did it,” said Ridmark. “I know where I must go next…and I know how to stop the return of the Frostborn.”

Chapter 24 - Where The Secret Rests

Ardrhythain busied himself with healing spells.

Ridmark watched as he healed first Calliande and then the others. Calliande had patched up the worst of their wounds, but she had lacked the strength to heal every injury. Ardrhythain was able to finish the work. One by one the others lay down and went to sleep, and even Morigna submitted to Ardrhythain’s efforts.

At last Ridmark stood alone with Ardrhythain and Rhyannis upon the hilltop as the others slept. A smoldering sea of molten stone surrounded Urd Morlemoch, giving off a reddish glow. The Torn Hills would be very different once it cooled.

Ridmark hoped to never return. 

“You should rest as well,” said Ardrhythain. “There is much work before you.”

“Later,” said Ridmark. “Someone needs to keep watch.”

“You shall be safe enough,” said Ardrhythain. “Most of the Warden’s creatures were destroyed in the fighting, and the rest shall be trapped in Urd Morlemoch until the stone cools. Along with the Warden himself.”

“He survived, then?” said Ridmark.

“I fear so,” said Ardrhythain. “His body is undead, and within Urd Morlemoch he is invincible, but he is trapped.” He sighed. “Though he could leave any moment he chose.”

“How?” said Ridmark.

“By laying aside his power,” said Ardrhythain.

“That will never happen,” said Ridmark. 

“No,” said Ardrhythain. “I fear not. Power is addictive, and so corruptive.”

He looked at Morigna’s sleeping form as he spoke.

“What happened to her?” said Ridmark.

“When she broke the spell around the menhirs,” said Ardrhythain, “she absorbed a portion of the Warden’s magic. It is hers to use as she wishes now.”

Ridmark frowned. “Then she uses dark magic?”

“Yes,” said Ardrhythain. “So does Mara. Her power comes from a dark source, but she does not use it with dark intent. Perhaps it will be the same for your lover. Or perhaps the power will corrupt her. I see both possibilities in the shadows of her future. She loves power more than anything, even more than she loves you, but her heart is fierce and her will is strong. I cannot foretell which shall prevail.” 

“Thank you,” said Ridmark, “for our lives.”

“No, thank you,” said Ardrhythain. “For I did not know what the Warden truly intended. I thought he simply wished to amuse himself. I did not know he could use the empty soulstone, and I never dreamed he hoped to conquer Old Earth and a thousand other worlds.” He sighed. “There is no fool like an old fool, and I am very old.” 

“When I was nineteen and I came here for the first time,” said Ridmark, “I thought I knew everything. Now I feel as if I know nothing.”

The archmage smiled at that. “Wait until you are my age.” He looked at Calliande. “What will you do now?”

“I will go with her,” said Ridmark. “I promised to help her regain her memory and her staff, and I vowed to keep the Frostborn from returning. By taking her to Khald Azalar, I can do both.”

“I can assist with that,” said Ardrhythain. “Shadowbearer will return from the threshold in a matter of hours, and will seek you and the empty soulstone. Rhyannis and I will be there to meet him. A year and month, Ridmark Arban. That is how long the conjunction of the moons will last, and that is how long Shadowbearer has to open a gate to the world of the Frostborn.”  

“That is how we will stop the return of the Frostborn,” said Ridmark. “Three of those months have already passed. To reach victory, we simply have to deny the soulstone to Shadowbearer for another ten months.”

“Yes,” said Ardrhythain. “I will keep Shadowbearer occupied for as long as I can, but he is my equal in power and skill. Sooner or later, he may elude me. That is why you most proceed to Khald Azalar and Dragonfall with all haste.” 

“So Calliande can recover her powers?” said Ridmark.

Ardrhythain smiled. “Once the Keeper of Avalon recovers her power, Shadowbearer will not be able to take the soulstone from her.”

Ridmark remembered the sort of power Ardrhythain commanded and tried to think of Calliande, kind, brave Calliande, wielding magic like that. “What was she like? Long ago, I mean. Before she surrendered her memory.” 

“You fear what the return of her power might do to her?” said Ardrhythain. “Do not be troubled. Power is addictive…yet she surrendered her power until both it and the Keeper of Avalon might be needed again. Not many could willingly lay down the kind of strength she bore.” He considered for a moment. “She was much as she is now, Gray Knight. But stronger and more confident. She rallied Andomhaim to defeat the Frostborn the first time, and she saw the danger that Shadowbearer posed to the High Kingdom, the danger that would become the Eternalists and the Enlightened of Incariel.” 

“You disapprove?” said Ridmark.

“We cannot control the future,” said Ardrhythain. “None of us can, whether high elf or human. We work for the best future we can, yes, but we are not God to mandate the fate of nations. Tell me, if you are successful, if you stop Shadowbearer, what do you think he will do?”

“I…had not considered it,” said Ridmark.

“He will vanish into the shadows,” said Ardrhythain. “The next proper conjunction of the moons will be in two hundred and fifty-one years. He will disappear and prepare for his next chance, and prepare his servants anew…just as he did with the Enlightened of Incariel for the last century.”

“Then we cannot stop him?” said Ridmark.

“In two hundred and fifty years you will be long dead,” said Ardrhythain. “Even you, Ridmark Arban, cannot try to take responsibility for events in two and a half centuries. No. Your responsibility is what you do now.”

“Very well,” said Ridmark. “Then I shall go to Khald Azalar and help Calliande to find her staff.” 

“A wise choice,” said Ardrhythain. “Remember, you can still ask a boon of me.”

“A boon?” said Ridmark.

“For rescuing Rhyannis from Urd Morlemoch,” said Ardrhythain, and Rhyannis bowed. 

“After everything you have done for us,” said Ridmark, “it seems churlish to ask for a boon.”

“Very well,” said Ardrhythain. “Perhaps you will not need to ask it of me. I hope you will not need to ask it of me. But if that day comes, the boon will await you.” He glanced at the sky. “I must depart, but there are two more things I can do for you. What happened to your staff?”

“My staff?” said Ridmark. “I…am not sure. I dropped it when the urvaalgs attacked. Likely it burned with the rest of the land around Urd Morlemoch.”

“Then you shall have need of this,” said Ardrhythain, holding out his black staff.

“Your staff?” said Ridmark. “I am not a Magistrius.”

“I should hope not,” said Ardrhythain. “No, you shall find this staff lighter and stronger than your previous weapon. Additionally, it has taken on a magical aura of its own. It is not as potent as a soulblade, true, but it will wound creatures of dark magic.” He shrugged. “I have seen you fight. You are better with a staff than with an axe, and I can make myself a new staff easily enough.” 

“Then I accept,” said Ridmark, taking the staff. The black wood felt warm beneath his fingers, and it was indeed lighter than his old staff, which had been wood sheathed over a steel core. Yet the new staff somehow felt far stronger. Certainly he could swing it with greater speed. “Thank you.” 

“There is one other thing I can do for you,” said Ardrhythain. He waved his hand in a circle, and a pale ring of white light appeared around them, encircling the hilltop.

“Another ward?” said Ridmark.

“Aye,” said Ardrhythain. “Until you leave this hilltop, you will be invisible to any foes, and no creatures of dark magic or undead can cross the boundary. You may rest undisturbed, Ridmark Arban. I suggest that you do so. It is a long road from the Torn Hills to Khald Azalar, and you shall need your strength to face what is to come.”

Ridmark laughed at that.

“What is it?” said Ardrhythain. 

“I…was certain I would die in Urd Morlemoch,” said Ridmark. “Just as I was certain that I would die wandering the Wilderland in search of clues about the Frostborn. That was why I tried so hard to keep anyone from coming with me, because I knew death awaited us.” 

“It almost did,” said Ardrhythain. 

“It almost did a dozen times from Dun Licinia to Urd Morlemoch,” said Ridmark. “And yet…here we are. I knew that survival was always a possibility, but I never thought I would actually survive Urd Morlemoch.” He considered for a moment. “I suppose that means success is even possible, that we can recover Calliande’s powers and stop Shadowbearer from summoning the Frostborn for another two hundred years.”

“It is possible,” said Ardrhythain, “though not assured. Many perils lie before you, and the future is never assured.”

“I know,” said Ridmark. “But if we are triumphant…”

He looked at where Morigna lay sleeping. He knew they still faced dangers. And even if they stopped the Frostborn, the Enlightened of Incariel had sunk their corrupting roots deep into the realm of Andomhaim, and Ridmark had promised to help Arandar rescue Accolon and Nyvane from Tarrabus’s grasp. For that matter, it was entirely possible they would be killed before they got anywhere near Khald Azalar. 

Yet if they survived, the thought of slipping away with Morigna into the Wilderland, of leaving the realm behind entirely, was an appealing one. 

“If we live,” said Ridmark, “I suppose I shall have to decide what to do then.”

“Such is the nature of life,” said Ardrhythain. “Farewell, Ridmark Arban. For now. You have done well, but there are foes ahead of you, and challenges you do not foresee. Be vigilant, keep your trust in God, and turn not from your purpose.”