The Wizard and the Warlord (The Wardstone Trilogy Book Three) (58 page)

At that moment, Hyden could have killed the Warlord for good, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He was certain that the binding would hold, and besides that, he just couldn’t bring himself to kill the thing that used to be his little brother. He wasn’t sure if those were the real reasons, or if he was just afraid that he would die if the Warlord did. At the moment he was too exhausted to worry much about it anymore. The fact that he felt twice his age was what confounded him as he collapsed into the water before the hovering prison he’d created.

The seemingly solid sphere settled half in and half out of the water. It appeared to be floating, but it wasn’t. Hyden sat down and leaned against it, so that only his head and shoulders were above the surface. The water was cold but not frigid. Apparently, the ground or maybe the Wardstone kept it tepid.

A long, black-and-gray-flecked beard trailed away from his chin and floated on the surface. Hyden tried to laugh, but then his eyes settled on Mikahl. Across the way, his best friend was lying dead in the snowy cobbles. Hyden was too tired to stand, but not too tired to cry. The tears blurred his eyes so that he didn’t see Phen hurriedly wading through the water waving Ironspike and screaming at him.

Behind Hyden, the Dark Lord had found the power of the Wardstone again. He had wiggled room to move here and there and was now thrashing frantically to get through the prison’s walls. Sensing the movement, Hyden turned. Already the Warlord was wearing through the globe. Hyden’s head dropped in defeat. He had failed. His fear of death, and love for his brother, had doomed them all. He should have just killed Gerard when he had the chance, but now it was too late.

More tears streaked down his face as he called to Talon. To his surprise he found that the familiar link between them had been broken.

He heard Talon’s screeching call from afar just then. He was sure it was a triggered memory from somewhere in his weary mind. He glanced up as Phen closed in on him and the failing imprisonment and realized that the sky had cleared a little bit. The purple smog and the swarms of hellspawn were thin to the point that the two dragons he could see up there held reign. He heard the hawkling again, but didn’t see him. His attention was now drawn to the boy.

Phen, with Ironspike’s wildly glowing blade held out before him as if it were a spear, charged right up to the magical prison and ran the sword right into it. When Ironspike’s blade pierced through the barrier and buried itself to the hilt in the Warlord’s chest, the explosion of blackness that engulfed him was no surprise at all. What was a surprise was that Hyden could hear the old cackling fortune teller saying, “Some day, you will watch helplessly as one you love dearly attempts to destroy what the one that sits beside you is to become.”

***

The concussion did surprise Phen. It sent him flipping backward head over heels. The force of the impact blew the breath from his lungs, and the sudden loss of Ironspike’s glorious symphony in his head left him empty and lost. When he hit the ground, he landed in a painful tangle of limbs.

***

Dostin raced to Corva’s side. He had been sitting with the three queens, waiting and watching patiently as they fussed over the balcony rail. He’d started to wallop the guard who pulled Queen Rosa back into the chamber in such a bodily fashion, but Queen Willa had called the soldier off of her in time to save him from Dostin’s staff.

The simple-minded monk had known many friends in his sheltered life, but most of them had treated him like a parent treats a child. Telgra had become dear to him during her stay at Salaya, but he and Corva had shared an adventure. Dostin loved the elf beyond measure and it showed as he urged the Queen Mother aside and began to pray fiercely over his friend’s torn and broken body.

Telgra gave him room, but she didn’t give up her place over the fallen hero completely. She, too, had grown fond of Corva. He was a proud young elf and loyal to a fault. She called upon the Heart of Arbor, hoping that the great guiding force of the elven people would lend strength to her healing magic. The first part of the response she received caused her to pull away sobbing and put her head in her hands.
There’s nothing you can do for Corva,
the Arbor Heart’s deep voice spoke into her mind.
But you can use your restorative powers elsewhere, if you act swiftly.

No sooner did the words finish resounding than Phen ran Ironspike’s blade into the Warlord. The whole palace shook with the force of the explosion. Queen Willa and Queen Rosa screamed out in fright, but Telgra felt the poison absorbing into the roots of the Arbor suddenly diluted. She knew where she was needed and without further hesitation she ordered her soldiers to come with her. After a quick glance at the High Queen, then at Queen Willa, she climbed over the rail and gracefully made for the courtyard below.

Dostin stayed behind, still chanting and praying with fevered intensity over Corva’s body. Queen Willa would have stopped him, but it was clear that the man was either too simple, or too stubborn, to give up.

***

Dieter Willowbrow and a handful of elves had grouped outside the palace walls in the street. They had lost most of their fellows out beyond the outer wall, but now that the demon horde was fleeing, they worked their way toward their Queen Mother. They took the time to end the lives of the mortally wounded and heal those they could as they went.

When turning a corner, trying to locate the palace gate, the battle-weary group came upon a horrid creature. It was twice the size of a wolf and its fur was saturated with matted blood and gore. The beast stood over another just like it that lay still. At first, the savage thing snarled and growled angrily. It circled its fallen companion and settled into a defensive position with its blood-soaked hackles trying to rise. Dieter looked around him. The beast was walled in on three sides, and now his group of elves was blocking its only chance of escaping. A trio of dark, hulking bodies lay around the savage creature.

One of the elves drew his bow string back and started to loose at it, but Dieter’s quick reflexes stopped the arrow from hitting its target.

“What gives, Dieter?” the angry archer said as his arrow bounced harmlessly off the cobbles and skittered into a drift of snow against a broken store front.

“Look at those creatures lying dead around them,” Dieter said. “Those are dead hellcats.”

“Two of them are,” an elf said from behind them. “One is a Choska, or what’s left of it.”

“That isn’t our enemy,” Dieter said. “I think it’s a great wolf. My brother wrote about them in his journal.”

Yip barked and wagged his tail, slinging blood as he did. The movement aggravated a wound on the great wolf’s back and caused him to yelp sharply, as if he had been kicked.

“Whatever it is, it’s injured. And by the looks of those teeth marks on that hellcat’s neck and throat, that wolf is what killed it.” It was an older elf, one of Dieter’s uncles speaking. His voice held enough confident authority that Dieter handed away his bow and started down the alley to see if he could help the wounded creature.

Yip responded by limping a few steps toward the elf and wagging his tail as slightly as he could.

“May Arbor forgive my hastiness,” the archer who’d almost fired an arrow at the creature said as he started after Dieter.

Dieter put his hand out and let the huge wolf sniff it. Yip licked it immediately. As Dieter began healing Yip with his elven magic, the other elf called out to the group what the scene told him.

“This wolf was killed after it mortally wounded the first hellcat here.” He pointed first at a wolf’s corpse, then at one of the dead hellcats. “It looks like one of the cats tried to eat him. This one fought off the hellcat and then killed the Choska.” He pointed at Yip, who was fidgeting nervously as the yellow glow of Dieter’s healing power swept over his matted fur.

The other elf spoke on reverently. “He killed them both with no help at all, just to protect his fallen pack mate’s body.” He shook his head in wonder and strode over to Yip. When he stood face to face with the sitting wolf, he found that he had to look up to see in its eyes. “I apologize for almost loosing on you, my friend.” The elf’s tone showed the sincerity of his words. “Defending your fallen friend was honorable.”

Yip surprised the elf by projecting a thought into his head. It was almost a command. “Carry my brother and follow me,” it said.

When the elf nodded his understanding, Yip quickly opened his jaws, leaned down, and gave the startled elf a slobbery lick across the face.

***

Talon winged himself and his burden in a great circle downward over the courtyard before Queen Willa’s palace. It was a place the hawkling knew well. Many times he had sipped from the fountain’s water, or wetted his beak to better preen himself. Hyden had spent half a year in Dahg Mahn’s tower studying the books with Phen, while Talon soared the sky above this place.

Talon could see Claret lying across the palace’s wall, half in the city, half in the forested park. From above, her scarlet corpse looked like an open wound on the land. The dragon, all dragons, had always scared Talon badly. However, the hawkling knew how much Hyden had loved and respected this great wyrm.

Seeing the person he needed to find floating face up in the pond caused the bird to falter and nearly plummet from the sky. He recovered when he saw Phen blink his eyes open. Phen wasn’t moving at the moment, but he was alive.

Talon had flown long and far carrying his heavy load. The time he had spent with his body being heavy and petrified had strengthened him. Nothing else could have prepared a bird his size to carry a skin full of water so far.

Seeing Queen Rosa burst out of the palace after Lady Telgra, Talon followed her course. As the hawkling guessed, she went straight to the one who was to receive the fruit of his labor. Hyden Hawk had once sworn his loyalty to Mikahl as a friend, not a king, and so had Talon. Just because he was no longer linked to his wizard didn’t mean that the bird would forsake his vow. He’d shared too much human thought to suddenly revert to being an ordinary hawkling. The goddess had sent him on his own quest, and Talon had no desire to let down either her, or the High King; not if he could help it.

Seeing Phen twitch, Talon dove toward the boy and fluttered to a stop, perching on his chest. The sound of Rosa’s wails as she reached the High King’s side told Talon that he might be too late. Even if he wasn’t, he still needed Phen. Queen Willa’s sorrowful gasping, and the shouts of soldiers all around them, didn’t seem to stir the dazed boy. For Talon, this wasn’t good. He needed help.

The thought occurred to Talon to find Spike. The two of them had communicated regularly on the journeys they had undertaken with their wizards. Talon was relieved to hear the prickly little cat’s mew coming from an ornamental shrub by the palace steps.

Knowing that it might be too late to finish his deed, Talon began squawking orders to the lyna cat and any other animal that might be in hearing range. Luckily for the realm, the great wolf, Yip, and the elven archers who carried Arf’s tattered corpse had just come over the rubble of the broken wall. Yip heard the hawkling’s instruction and was eager to help save the life of the High King. The great wolves revered Mikahl Collum above all men. Their ferocious pack leader Grrr had died to save him.

***

Rosa found Mikahl barely breathing. His hair was burned to a hard, crispy mess, and his left knee was a bone-splintered hole. The long chainmail shirt he always wore to battle was blackened and melted into his chest and shoulders. His arms were drawn in and his legs were curled, their skin fused together as if he had been dropped in a pan of boiling hot grease. His face was swollen and disfigured. The only thing that indicated he was alive was the nearly inaudible repetitive rasp of his lungs struggling to draw air.

Queen Mother Telgra took one look at him and went about finding another to heal. She knew there was nothing she could do for him, and the Heart of Arbor confirmed it in her mind.

Queen Willa had her hands to her mouth. “Oh, Mikahl,” she sobbed at the horror of his injuries.

Around her, the guards were struggling between protecting the queens and letting them mourn. No immediate threat had presented itself until a black, wolfish thing came leaping toward them as it fled from a group of elves.

“Protect the queens!” a shout rang out.

A frantic hustle ensued as Queen Willa’s guards tried to form up around them. Yip darted inside the closing ring, and with a series of loud, insistent barks, scared Queen Rosa away from Mikahl’s body. A sword slashed an arcing slice at the wolf, but an elven arrow dinked off of the blade in mid-swing, saving Yip by a hair’s breadth.

“Back!” Dieter yelled. Already he had another arrow nocked. “It means no harm.”

Another of the guards ignored him and jabbed at Yip, but Talon came flapping down gracelessly past his face and screeched out an ear-splitting cry.

Spike braved his fear of great wolves and darted from the bushes through the trampled pink snow, between the soldier’s legs, and to the High King’s body.

A long, tense moment ensued, a standoff between the men and the elves. For a long while it seemed that the animosities of the past would get the better of them and they would attack each other. During that time, Queen Rosa and Queen Willa watched with wide-eyed wonder as Yip kept everyone at bay while Talon unstoppered the wineskin and Spike clumsily used his paws to direct the water Talon had carried all the way from the Leif Repline fountain into King Mikahl’s mouth.

Once again Hyden Hawk found himself before the goddess. Her misty form stood thigh-deep in a swirling cloud of steam, scowling at him. “What’s wrong with you, Hyden?” she asked.

The question stupefied him. He was too saddened by his failure, and the sight of his fallen friend, Mikahl, to even try to form a reply. It didn’t matter, though. The angry goddess didn’t wait for an answer.

“I tell you that Gerard no longer exists inside the Abbadon, yet you falter at the critical moment!” Her voice was stern, yet loving, like a scolding mother that is as relieved as she is angry at her child. “Don’t you remember dying? The dragon had to bring you back, Hyden Hawk. Don’t you remember?”