David Wells - Linkershim

He waited for his enemy to act, to commit. In that moment, he had power like no other. Chief Overseer Bahar launched a spell into the coming throng, an arc of red-hot lightning hit the nearest bandit in the chest, coring him out in a ball of molten flame, then leaping to the next two closest men, doubling again and then again, killing thirteen people with startling quickness.

The brigands faltered for only a moment, taking force-lance blasts and getting back up, until they were close enough to pull the Lancers from their steeds.

One of the soldiers behind Alexander attacked, thrusting toward his leg, but he slipped sideways just enough for the blade to go wide and plunge into the dirt, then he swept his blade up, taking the soldier’s head, quickly catching the man’s body with his left hand while slipping to the side and pushing the corpse into another soldier coming for him.

“There’s still time to run away, Yasim.”

“If there’s time to run away, then there’s time to kill you,” the Royal Assassin said, leveling his hand at Alexander. Cold, numbing weakness gripped him, bringing him to his knees. He dropped his sword from lack of strength. Yasim smiled, seeming to absorb the strength that Alexander was losing.

Alexander saw it coming well before any of his enemies did, but only because he was looking for it, hoping that it would come soon. He heard a shout, half warning, half fear … then another, followed by several more. Yasim’s spell faltered when he saw it. Alexander’s strength returned quickly and he staggered to his feet.

The wyvern landed lightly with one foot on the ground, carefully gripping Alexander with the other and launching into the sky amid shouts of sudden confusion and anger from the Lancers and the Acuna, followed by a renewed battle frenzy with all sides fighting savagely for survival.

While certainly not comfortable, the ride wasn’t entirely unpleasant, lasting only a few minutes before the wyvern landed gently and set Alexander on the ground in a clearing filled with seven other wyverns, as well as his friends.

“Lord Reishi,” Jataan said.

“Well done,” Alexander said.

Jataan nodded deferentially. Alexander gave him an affectionate pat on the shoulder, then smiled at the Sky Knight.

“I’m Kiera, witch, Sky Knight, and now a member of your elite guard,” she said proudly, after sliding to the ground. She was tall and lanky, thin but wiry, with fiery red hair and sharp features.

“Thank you for the rescue,” Alexander said. “I’m glad you were able to pull it off without taking a hit.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, patting her wyvern’s knee. “I never had any doubt.”

“Outstanding,” Alexander said, turning back to Jataan. “Are we ready?”

“Yes, Lord Reishi.”

Alexander dumped the Sovereign Stone out of the little pouch into his hand. It pulsed with a soft red light. He put it around his neck, then opened the door to his Wizard’s Den, his friends following him inside.

“You’ll be needing this,” Jack said, holding up the dragon-scale shirt.

“Thanks for looking after it for me.” Alexander said, taking it with a smile.

“Truth be told, it probably took better care of me than I did of it.”

“I know what you mean,” Alexander said, taking off his tunic and donning his armor. He started to strap his throwing knife to his belt when Jataan deliberately cleared his throat.

“Mage Gamaliel sends gifts,” he said, presenting a staff in one hand and a dagger in the other.

“Luminessence,” Jataan said, holding up the staff, “was fashioned from the vitalwood and is imbued with powerful light-focused magic.

“Demonrend,” he said, holding up the dagger, “was fashioned from the steel of a fallen star and enchanted to banish any demon with a single hit. The Guild Mage bids you use them well.”

Alexander took Demonrend, feeling its weight and admiring its perfect balance. It was an ideal blade for a close knife fight, but it was also balanced to be thrown. He strapped it to his belt along the small of his back.

Luminessence felt warm to the touch, seeming to come to life in his hands, beginning to glow a few moments after he grasped it. The more he poured his will into it, the brighter it got, filling the Wizard’s Den with brilliance, then more, yet without ever blinding any of them. Alexander felt a connection to the staff begin to form. He willed the light brighter still, staring straight at it without harm or even discomfort, drinking in the light as if it were nourishment, then willing the light to subside.

“That was impressive,” Jack said.

Jataan nodded, frowning slightly. “I should have been blinded by such light, and yet I could see more clearly than ever.”

Anja and Lita nodded silently.

The staff was stout, just over an inch in diameter, six feet long, shod in four inches of silver on each end. The entire surface was carved with elaborately combined magical symbols. Its colors screamed of power and light. When Alexander willed it to produce dim light, the top shod began to glow softly, then winked out with a thought. It was as if the staff had become an extension of his body, sensing his will and obeying his thoughts as quickly as one’s hand moves by command of one’s mind.

“For the moment, I think I’ll leave Luminessence right here,” Alexander said, leaning it against the doorframe and stepping out into the night.

“Be ready,” he said, facing his friends in the Wizard’s Den. “There’s no telling what will be waiting for you when I open this door.”

“We’ll be ready,” Jataan said.

Alexander nodded. “Is everything else in place?”

“Yes, by morning the forward operating base will be burned to the ground and what remains of the Lancer contingent will take heavy casualties from our militia ambushes.”

“Excellent,” he said, closing the door and mounting up behind Kiera. After she helped him lace in, she prodded her wyvern into a roar, signaling the launch command. Eight Sky Knights took to wing, gaining altitude slowly as they floated east toward Mithel Dour.

Isabel drifted into awareness shrouded in a cocoon of distant pain, recoiling into the sanctuary of oblivion again and again before gaining enough sense of herself to hang on to consciousness. She was in a bed. Other people were in the room, but she couldn’t see them. A moment of panic seized her, flooding into every part of her body.

Was she blind?

Her hands came up involuntarily, sending a wave of pain through her body, but revealing that her eyes were bandaged.

“Ah, she lives,” Phane said.

It all came back to her at once. She was free of the constant nightmare induced by Azugorath while she’d been unconscious, but she was still Phane’s prisoner … and … she had managed to resist the Wraith Queen-no small thing. Phane had beaten her for breaking his mirror. She tried to smile but could only manage a wince.

“Take off her bandage,” Phane said.

Gentle hands began unwrapping the bandage around her head. She let them work. The light was painful, but she could see, at least as much as the swelling around her eyes would permit. Her face felt bruised and battered.

Dierdra looked at Isabel’s face and eyes, examining her injuries before nodding to herself with a sigh of relief.

“She’ll mend, Prince Phane,” she said, bowing out of the way.

Phane sat down on the edge of the bed, smiling at Isabel as if he were genuinely relieved that she was recovering from the beating he’d given her.

“I knew you’d pull through,” he said. “Never doubted it.”

“Glad to hear it,” Isabel said, thickly.

“You just rest now. Your friends will be along in a few days; we’ll talk again then,” Phane said, patting her on the leg with a cold smile before strolling out of the room, leaving her in Dierdra’s care.