Calling On Fire (Book 1) (51 page)

“We have a location in the mountains where I’ve been building an army on and off for years. I have a good number stockpiled, but not enough yet.”

Erizen’s eyebrows rose. “You’ll need soldiers in the thousands to make any kind of difference against Moloch.”

“I know. And if I can take some dedicated time, I can create that many. We aren’t ready quite yet, but we will be soon.”

“We’ll have to set up a signal for when to spring the trap then,” Erizen commented. Toman nodded before continuing.

“So we lure Moloch to this location. Can you make it seem that the Greymakers were somehow disabled from our location?”

Erizen nodded.

“Good,” Toman continued. “Then all you need to do is disable the Greymaker and send him in our direction. We’ll do the rest. Not even Moloch can stand against a stone army in the thousands.”

Erizen pursed his lips and tilted his head from side-to-side in a maybe, maybe-not gesture.

“He could with a Greymaker.”

“But you’re taking care of that,” Esset reminded him strongly.

“Indeed.”

“I also have some animations for our defense. Add a few more amulets, like ones the sergeant is getting us so we can sense magic, and we’ll have the edge we need to beat him.” Toman crossed his arms and waited for Erizen’s response.

“Relying on brute strength against Moloch… It will be a gamble,” Erizen said after a thoughtful silence.

“Going against Moloch at all is a gamble,” Toman replied. Erizen nodded pensively.

“Well!” Erizen was suddenly his sharp, showman self again. “The risk to me is minimal. Even if you fail, I won’t be discovered if
I
play
my
cards right. Which I will. I will wish you luck. After all, it will benefit me greatly to have that condescending menace no longer looking over my shoulder. I have a few ventures that would be much more lucrative without him cutting into my business.” He looked pleased as a cat with cream on its whiskers.

“Now then, come look at my maps so I know where to send Moloch…”

Toman and Esset stood at the base of a small tower perched on a mountainside far away from any civilization. The mountainscape was dotted with hundreds upon hundreds of boulders and rocky formations, that is to say, with Toman’s creations disguised as such.

“One month.”

Esset tore his eyes from the spectacular view to regard his brother.

“One month, and I should have everything prepared,” Toman said.

“That’s not that long,” Esset said, studying his brother. Esset wanted Moloch dead for many reasons: ethics, morality, for what he’d done to them and others. But he knew that for his brother, it ran even deeper than that, and he worried about Toman’s wellbeing this close to a confrontation.
The
confrontation.

“No. And yet I wish it were sooner. But to be fully prepared, it’ll be one month of animating soldiers, no distractions.” Toman sounded calm and collected.

“Do you think Moloch will fall for Erizen’s act?” Esset asked.

“I wouldn’t worry about Erizen—he seems like the type who can take care of himself,” Toman replied.

“Yeah, but what if Moloch catches him and Erizen gives us up?” Esset asked. He didn’t necessarily think that—he just needed to talk away these thoughts.

“Honestly? Unless Erizen joins the fight against us—doubtful—I don’t think it’ll make a difference. Moloch hates animators, right? I think he’d come after us regardless. It’s just a matter of time, and we’ve made sure that he’ll learn where we are,” Toman replied.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Esset conceded. Something was going to go wrong—he knew it. Every time he read his summoner’s tome, the phoenix summon practically jumped off the page at him. But he couldn’t tell Toman that, just as he couldn’t suggest they back out now. He knew Toman wouldn’t change his mind.

The phoenix… He really hated that summon. He hated the fact that it even existed, that it was even an option. Its mere existence changed everything. To trade one’s life for brief but incredible power—no.

What about the Guardian? He’d summoned that once before. Surely, if things got desperate, he could do it again, to save Toman. The only problem was that the incantation for the summon seemed to have erased itself from his mind completely. He couldn’t even remember the precise conditions under which it could be summoned.

All summons had conditions, a contract between summoner and summoned that had to be followed. Esset knew the conditions of all his summons—but not the Guardian. He supposed it was possible that it was a one-time thing. Or maybe he could only remember under the conditions that the summon required. Somehow, that wasn’t reassuring.

Why was the phoenix so prominent in his mind? Was it simply because he was so worried about Toman, and himself, and Moloch’s demise? Surely that was it. That had to be it. That his knowledge of summons tended to come to him just when he needed it was purely coincidental. Now if he could just calm down so that he didn’t see the incantation for the phoenix written in fire every time he closed his eyes…

“You’re not having second thoughts, are you?” Toman asked suddenly, studying his brother. He knew something was wrong, but that was to be expected—it was entirely too possible that they were facing imminent death. He just wasn’t sure there was anything wrong beyond the obvious.

Esset locked eyes with Toman. “None,” he lied with perfect confidence.

After all, they were brothers.

One month had passed, and the signal had been posted; it was time to set their plan in motion.

Erizen knew how thin a line he would be walking, but he also knew that this was the most minimal risk he could take and still have a chance at that reward. Blast Gretchen, she was right—he liked this. Nothing could make his blood sing more than a true challenge, a true risk. On the other hand, he’d never had this much to risk before, back when Gretchen had known him. He felt a sneer play his lips; honestly, what was he thinking? He was also more powerful than he had ever been, and he had never allowed his own cunning to dull.

He twisted his lips into a malicious smile instead. No, Moloch would get his comeuppance, finally. And the prize Erizen would get was security; he had no interest in governing territories larger than what he had now, or hording more treasure or power. He had a secure base here, and enough power to hold his own against anything—anything except Moloch. Moloch, that unpredictable menace, who could choose to destroy Erizen just for the thrill of it—and probably would one day—or who would certainly turn upon him if Erizen were deemed a threat. It would be worth the risk to remove Moloch from the face of the earth.

Erizen tweaked his spell so that if things went sideways in his confrontation, he could trigger it to slingshot him right back to his castle. He didn’t think anything would go wrong on his end, but he was still alive among a nest of dark mages because he was careful, almost to the point of paranoia. Not that it was paranoia if everyone really was out to get you. But he missed the reassuring presence of the Greymaker—he’d already disabled it, to be sure that everyone would notice its absence before he confronted Moloch.

Erizen ran scenarios through his mind, trying to rouse a bit of genuine anger in himself—unrelated anger, to be safe—to make his performance more genuine. He just hoped that the two puppies that Gretchen had such faith in would be able to pull this off. If not, he had preparations in place to flee. He hoped they realized that if this went sideways, he was going to cut them loose. Then again, chances were, if this went sideways, they’d be dead pretty quickly. There wouldn’t be anything he could do anyways.

Ruby, the current favorite of his harem, stepped into the room. She knew better than to disturb his spell-casting; she simply waited for him, although she posed herself against the wall in a way he rather enjoyed. Yes, there were definitely perks to cultivating loyalty in his subjects. Especially the women… Erizen directed his attention inwards again. Transportation spells were typically complex at the best of times, but the number of fail safes he was building into this one made it all the more so.

It’s too bad I won’t be there to see Moloch’s face when those two scrawny puppies take him out
. Now that would be entertaining. Unfortunately, not so much so that it would be worth the risk.
Such is life
. He finished the final touches on the spell and relaxed, creating a loop in the magic so it would sustain itself until he chose to turn his attention back to it.

“Ruby, love,” he purred to the woman clad in less than two square feet of red cloth.

“My lord Erizen,” she breathed back. Erizen was possessive of those who he saw as belonging to him, and that possessiveness was apparent as he kissed her, claiming her for his own. She melted against him, perfectly willing to succumb to whatever he had in mind for her. Even if it were nothing at all.

“Mmm, you tempt me at a most inopportune moment,” Erizen chuckled.

“I am at my lord’s disposal,” she replied, her dark brown eyes gazing at him.

“You know to take care of things in my absence,” Erizen replied. He let her go, his mind already consumed with his project again. Pleasures of the flesh were enjoyable, but they could distract him only momentarily from his true joy—challenges of the mind. And this game—this game would be the game of all games.

“Yes, my lord,” Ruby replied from behind him. “I will see to everything. Good luck, my lord.”

Erizen laughed haughtily. “I don’t need luck.” He stepped into the center of the room and triggered the spell. The game had begun.

“
WHAT ARE YOU PLAYING AT, MOLOCH?
” Erizen roared. There was an automatic retaliation when his transportation spell penetrated Moloch’s barriers, but his shields absorbed it easily. It was difficult to make a damaging spell that triggered automatically, so mostly they were just used to distract and make sure that at least an intruder didn’t go unnoticed.

“Lord Erizen, you are out of line,” Moloch said in perfect calm, folding his hands in front of his body. Erizen had landed in his great hall, and Moloch was standing there, receiving some audience—not mages, Erizen could tell immediately, and therefore of no consequence.

“You are the only one with any knowledge of the Greymaker’s workings—you cannot convince me that you are not responsible for the disabling of mine. I see
yours
is still in working order,” Erizen hissed, narrowing his eyes.

“I will resume your audience later,” Moloch said, waving his hand dismissively towards the people he had been speaking with. Once they had turned to leave, the powerful mage directed his attention at Erizen.

“Now, my friend, won’t you tell me what has incensed you so?” Moloch was the picture of poise.

Dark Lord Moloch was a well-groomed individual, his angular features clean-shaven, serving to accentuate his narrow eyebrows and short black hair. His emerald eyes were sharp, keenly watching even the slightest nuances of Erizen’s behavior—and anyone and anything else in the vicinity. He was a man who missed very little, and those unaware of that fact tended not to last very long. He wore mage-robes, sweeping expanses of deep red fabric that fell just short of the floor. The only adornments that Moloch indulged in were rings; he wore several bands of varying materials. The rings were all very simple, and most who knew him would guess that they weren’t for decoration—they held complex spells that Moloch could release and use in an instant if the occasion called for it.

“Two days ago, my Greymaker was disabled. I was not suspicious at first, but the problem has eluded my ability to fix it. I know of only one person who might know enough about the Greymaker to create a problem like that,” Erizen snarled.

“Please calm yourself,” Moloch requested, unconcerned by Erizen’s anger. While the red-robed mage’s ire was a force to be feared, it was fortunately not easily stirred.

“What’s your game?” Erizen demanded, although he outwardly made an effort to compose himself. He made a convincing display of being unwilling to back down.

“No game, Lord Erizen. I am not responsible for the malfunction of your Greymaker. If you are sure your device has been sabotaged, then you must look to another as the culprit,” Moloch explained calmly.