The Mage's Grave: Mages of Martir Book #1 (32 page)

Read The Mage's Grave: Mages of Martir Book #1 Online

Authors: Timothy L. Cerepaka

Tags: #magic, #mage, #wizard, #gods, #school, #wand, #Adventure, #prince malock

“But not anything bad,” said Darek. “I won't do a repeat of what you were trying to do here at North Academy if you accept my offer.”

“Why would I ever repeat this mess?” said the Ghostly God, gesturing at the crater Uron had made earlier during his fight with the Avian Goddess. “Besides, this plan was never really mine in the first place. I now realize Uron was manipulating me the entire time, the bastard, so I doubt I'll ever even consider doing something this ridiculous again.”

“Good,” said Darek. “So what do you say? Do you accept my offer or not?”

The Ghostly God was quiet for longer than Darek liked. The sounds of battle between Skimif and Uron were as loud as ever, although that didn't stop Darek from worrying about what would happen if Uron managed to get one blow in on Skimif with the God-killer.

Finally, the Ghostly God nodded. “Your deal is reasonable. In exchange for ten years of service to me, I will grant you my protection and have Durima here take the Magical Superior back to the Arcanium. She will also alert the rest of the teachers and students about what is going on here so they may have time to evacuate in the event that Skimif is killed by Uron, although I have no idea where in the world they could evacuate to if
that
happened.”

Durima didn't look happy about the arrangement for some reason. Maybe she didn't relish the thought of having to carry the Magical Superior around, even though he really wasn't all that heavy or large.

Not that it mattered to Darek. As he stood up, he shuddered, feeling a cold aura cover his body. It was only for a moment, however, and soon the cold aura vanished, making Darek feel like he always did, although he was no longer quite as tired as he once was.

“There,” said the Ghostly God. “What you just felt was my protection falling over you. It will last only as long as I choose to let it last. Or until Uron inevitably kills you.”

Darek rolled his shoulders. “That's an encouraging thought.”

“No one has ever accused me of being an optimist,” said the Ghostly God. “But I do try to honor my end of the deal. Durima?”

Durima had a bland expression on her face as she walked over to the Magical Superior. Darek stepped back as Durima gently picked up the headmaster and tossed him over her shoulder. She even picked up his staff and then, without looking at Darek, dashed back to the Ghostly God. She hauled Gujak over her other shoulder and in the next moment was gone, jumping over the walls and running into the mist that covered the graveyard like a veil.

The Ghostly God watched them go, a look of severe distaste on his features. “I will have to punish both of them later if we all survive this.”

“Why?” said Darek.

“That is none of your business,” said the Ghostly God. “Now, are you going to go help Skimif or not?”

“I am,” said Darek. “I just wanted to know where you are going to be while Skimif and I are risking our lives for all of Martir.”

“Back on Zamis, of course,” said the Ghostly God. “And if you fail … well, you had better not, or it is the Mind Chamber for you.”

Darek had no idea what the Mind Chamber was and he didn't get a chance to ask. With a final wave, the Ghostly God disintegrated into mist like an illusion.

Deciding that he could live without knowing what the Mind Chamber was, Darek turned and dashed into the mist in the direction of Skimif and Uron's fight. He just hoped that the Ghostly God's power had granted him enough strength to help.

Chapter Twenty

 

A
s Durima ran across the area between the Arcanium and the graveyard, which was far less misty than the graveyard had been, making sure not to drop either Gujak or the Magical Superior, Durima could not believe what that human mage Darek had just done.

He bargained with Master,
Durima thought. Bargained
with him. When was the last time Master made a deal with anyone who
wasn't
a god?

Granted, it wasn't like the deal was in Darek's favor. The Ghostly God was the one who clearly benefited from it, seeing as he would get a new servant for a full decade if it all worked out. Still, Durima hadn't thought any mortal could bargain with one of the southern gods, but Darek had done just that.

Has nothing to do with his negotiation skills,
Durima decided.
It was just that the current situation is so serious that it requires this kind of drastic action. He's an opportunist, and no more.

Then again, Darek had clearly offered to heal Gujak, an action she could not see benefiting him in any way. Perhaps Darek was simply an honest human being who wanted to do the right thing and help whoever he could.

A tight smile crossed Durima's lips at that thought.
Just like Jakuuth Grinfborn during the Katabans War.

She glanced over her shoulder as best as she could while carrying both the Superior and Gujak. A thick cloud of mist covered the graveyard, obscuring her view of it, but the sounds of battle raging in it and the occasional flashes of power from within told her all she needed to know about what was going on.

Whether Darek is a saint or a liar, I hope his help is enough to aid Skimif in defeating Uron,
Durima thought.
And while I would normally pray to the gods to grant Darek and Skimif victory, after seeing them run from Uron, I am not sure what good it would be.

-

Darek was glad he had been smart enough to get the Ghostly God's protection before he had run headfirst into the battle between Skimif and Uron. Otherwise, he would have been incinerated when he stepped into a huge, fiery inferno that burned the air around him.

Who had caused the inferno, Darek couldn't tell. His lungs burned for air and his skin boiled. His robes somehow managed to avoid catching flame, but they felt like burning oven mitts due to their thickness, turning what was normally an advantage in the Great Berg into a liability right off the bat.

The flames obscured his vision and their roar filled his ears. Nonetheless, Darek raised his wand and summoned a wave of water to put out the flame. The inferno went out in an instant, but the collusion between water and fire created a heavy steam that made breathing difficult and caused sweat to drench his body.

But it also allowed him to see the battle between Skimif and Uron for the first time since it had started. He saw them standing not far from him, maybe two or three dozen yards from his current position, both panting, energy swirling in their hands as they circled each other like squabbling tiger lions.

Both looked like they had been through a war. Skimif's majestic white robes were torn or burned in several places and his scepter was nowhere to be seen. A large gash stood out on Skimif's chest, although oddly enough it was not bleeding.

Uron didn't even have any clothes anymore. He seemed to have discarded Braim's funeral robes or maybe had lost them in his fight with Skimif. His naked body was covered in thick, bleeding gashes, looking almost like poorly done tattoos, but Uron was clearly strong enough to go a few more rounds with Skimif. The God-killer was the only part of him that seemed unaffected by the battle, but the reason for that was obvious.

Darek also got a good look at their battlefield. Most of the tombstones were either crushed into pieces or broken in half. A few graves had even been blown open entirely, revealing old wooden caskets that had been buried hundreds of years ago. It pained Darek to see the graves of so many respectable mages destroyed, but there were more important things for him to worry about at the moment than desecrated graves.

He pointed his wand at Uron and focused on freezing his legs. He knew the ice wouldn't defeat Uron, but it might throw him off balance long enough for Skimif to get in a few good blows.

Thankfully, Uron was so distracted by Skimif that he didn't even notice Darek was there until his legs suddenly became frozen in a block of ice. Caught off-guard by this sudden event, Uron fell onto his side, a shocked expression on his face like he couldn't believe he hadn't seen that coming.

Skimif looked over his shoulder and saw Darek standing there, still aiming his wand at Uron. “Darek? What are you—”

A shattering of ice cut Skimif off. Uron flew at him, holding the God-killer in front of him, but Skimif vanished and Uron ended up slamming the God-killer into the ground where the God of Martir had been standing moments before.

Then Skimif reappeared next to Darek, a look of intense disapproval and worry upon his aquarian features. “What do you think you're doing here? Uron will kill you. You should get out of here now while you have the chance.”

“I'm going to be fine,” said Darek, although he found it hard to meet Skimif's eyes. “I made a deal with the Ghostly God. I have his protection. As long as I don't do anything stupid—”

“Like attack Uron?” said Skimif. “Who, I might remind you, is on the same power level as me?”

“Why discourage the mortal from trying to kill me?” said Uron, a smirk on his face. He stood up and dusted off the God-killer. “He will die anyway. Why put his death off any longer than it needs to be?”

Uron launched himself across the misty graveyard directly toward Skimif and Darek. Darek raised his wand to attack, but then Skimif shoved him out of the way with enough force to send Darek stumbling several feet away.

Darek stopped stumbling as soon as he got control of his senses, however, and looked up just in time to see the God-killer only a handful of inches from Skimif's face. He almost cried out, “Skimif, look out!” but that turned out to be unnecessary because Skimif vanished into thin air.

As Uron landed, Skimif reappeared behind the nigh-godly being and grabbed him by the shoulders. He lifted Uron over his head and hurled him into the ground, causing Uron to plow through the earth, destroying even more headstones and sending dust and dirt everywhere

Skimif didn't hesitate for even a moment. He began hurling energy blasts at Uron, even before his opponent had slowed to a stop. Sometimes he would throw in a lightning bolt as well, or a fire ball, but he relied mostly on bright blasts of energy that looked powerful enough to blow up a city.

Darek got to his feet, watching in awe as Skimif blasted Uron into oblivion. At least, until Uron leaped out of the cloud of dust and mist that had covered him and, while still in the air, hurled a dozen blasts of some kind of reddish-black energy that Darek had never seen before in his life.

That didn't scare Skimif, however. He slapped the energy blasts away as they came at him, doing it so fast that it looked like he wasn't moving at all. He grabbed the last energy blast, however, and hurled it directly back at Uron.

Uron spun out of the way of the blast in midair and then came to a crash landing on the graveyard floor. His crash caused the ground to shake under Darek's feet and almost throw him off balance, but he managed to avoid falling over, though just barely.

Then Uron, without missing a beat, slammed his fists together, creating a massive sound wave strong enough to crack the earth where it went. Skimif, on the other hand, held up his hand and unleashed a sound wave of his own that collided with Uron's.

Darek only knew that the two sound waves had collided because of the racket it made. It was like listening to a hundred active volcanoes going off all at once, with a dozen huge thunderstorms creating thunder for good measure, and for the long moment in which the racket happened, Darek went completely deaf.

Then the sound faded and Darek's hearing returned, but now his ears hurt. His knees were getting weak again and he was finding it harder and harder to stand.

Damn it,
Darek thought.
I didn't give myself time to recover. I'm only standing because the Ghostly God's power is giving me the strength to stand.

He forced himself to stay upright and aimed his wand at Uron again. This time, he was going to skip the ice and go straight to pyromancy. It wasn't his specialty, perhaps, but he knew enough pyromancy to make his next attack the most ferocious yet.

A huge burst of flame, like a bomb going off, shot out of the tip of his wand. The burst was strong enough to send Darek stumbling backward from the recoil, although he felt confident that it would hurt Uron, maybe even distract him long enough for Skimif to defeat him.

But to Darek's shock, Uron jumped straight through the fire blast. He landed with a roll on the other side and was back standing upright immediately. His skin wasn't even singed, although the top of his head was smoking slightly.

“How cute,” said Uron, casting an amused glance in Darek's direction. “The mortal thinks he can hurt me just because he has the protection of a god. What a fool.”

Uron dashed toward Darek, a look of murderous intent in his eyes, but before he could reach Darek, a pillar of stone erupted from the ground and struck Uron in the stomach. The blow hit him so hard that he went flying into the air.

The next instant, Skimif was in the air in Uron's direction. He slammed both of his fists down onto Uron's head, sending Uron crashing to the ground below.

This time, Darek was ready for the inevitable tremor that would occur when Uron hit, but as it turned out, that was unnecessary. Uron vanished well before he hit the ground, almost like he had melted into shadow, causing Darek to gulp in fear.

“Where did he go?” said Darek, looking in every direction. “Where did he—”

The scent of a corpse mixed with an unwashed snake body made Darek whirl around. Uron stood right behind Darek, towering over the mage like the titanic being he was. Darek aimed his wand directly at Uron's heart, but Uron grabbed Darek's wand arm and twisted.

A seemingly loud
snap
echoed through the graveyard as terrible pain shot through Darek's body. He let out a scream of anguish as he dropped his wand and fell to his knees. His arm was broken and it felt like someone had stabbed a thousand of the world's sharpest knives into his joints.

Then Darek felt Uron's hand grab the back of his head and lift him up by it. Darek lashed out weakly at Uron's grip, but he was too weak to do much more than annoy the pseudo-deity, who chuckled at his attempts to harm him.

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