Moonstone Page 4

  Bending his thought and will, he pressed on the shield probing for weaknesses. Finding none, he took another tack and reached out to the minds of the two wizards inside. Again and again, the Sunstone repulsed his efforts.Turning from the door he summoned the Brother standing there at attention. Without a word the two of them pressed in on the ward surrounding the entrance. “What do you sense?” Baladeva said at last.

  “They have invoked the power of the Siothrun. This is beyond our power to overcome.”

  “Unfortunate we were not able to prevent this move. Continue to think on the matter, a way inside must be found.” Baladeva turned from the entrance to find a pair of soldiers approaching along with General Njord, dragging a small figure between them. “What have we here?” Baladeva sent a pulse through the bond securing the General’s will to his own, reinforcing the connection.

  “We have secured the fortress,” said the General. All members of the High Council are accounted for and isolated in the deep cells, save for Dmitri Mora. I am confident my men will find him soon..”

  “Continue the search. He must be found. And my other request?”

  “I have stationed the majority of my forces outside the fortress, save for the guard on the prisoners and those searching for Mora. All is as we agreed.”

  “Excellent,” said Baladeva, a conciliatory smile on his face. “The Brothers must be free to cleanse the Dazhberg without interference. The wizards have long been a plague within these walls and I would hate for any of your men to suffer injury as we are about our work.”

  “Indeed. And once you have finished your work?”

  “The fortress is yours.” Baladeva swiveled his head to take stock of the prisoner. “Now, what of this?”

  “My men captured this one deep in the fortress. He collapsed a portion of the tunnels before we could stop him.”

  “Interesting,” said Baldeva. “So he knew of the old traps the builders made, and how to use them. I find myself wondering what else he knows.” He grabbed hold of Eimhin’s chin and tilted his face upwards to peer into his dazed eyes. His free hand he pressed into Eimhin’s forehead, delving into his memory. The man groaned, attempting to resist the mental pressure.

  At last, Baladeva pulled his hand away with an electric spark. “It seems, Njord, that your men did not quite stop everyone from leaving the Dazhberg after all. This one led someone out along hidden pathways through the mountain. He collapsed the tunnels to prevent us from following after.”

  “Then my men will tunnel through and hunt them down. There is naught but wilderness on the far side. Whoever it is won’t get far.”

  “No! You will leave this to me.” Baladeva sent another pulse through the bond to reinforce the command. He did not want Njord meddling where he did not belong. The general did not need to know the other piece of news he had gleaned from Einhim’s mind. Whoever had gone through was seeking after the Moonstone. “Secure the fortress and place a guard outside the Aodhan Bret. Keep the remnants of the High Council isolated.” The general bowed slightly and moved off, shouting orders.

  Baladeva turned to the two soldiers standing nearby. “You are with me. Bring this scum with you. He may have more to reveal.” Baladeva led Eimhin and his captors down the corridor, away from the Aodhan Bret. Coming to the small chamber he had claimed as a place to meditate, he instructed the soldiers to place Eimhin inside and then guard the door. “I am not to be interrupted,” he said, shutting the door in their faces.

  Turning to where the dwarf sat, he contemplated his approach. From the brief delving he knew that Eimhin’s mind was strong. He would need to form a bond like the one he had with Njord. Pulling an obsidian stone from deep within his robes, he focused his thought on the talisman.

  Seeing the stone, Eimhin shrank back. “Is that what I think it is?” Baladeva ignored him, continuing his work to bind the dwarf’s will to his own. “That’s how ye corrupted the Dragon Guard then. I wondered at that. It were never meant to be used this way. I warn you.”

  Baladev smirked, releasing tendrils of black that stretched out and encompassed Eimhin’s head. The work was begun and it was only a matter of time before this dwarf would be held in thrall to his will and Baladeva would have all the information he needed.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Swept along with the current, Sebastian didn’t try to talk. Neither Krystelle nor Cenric attempted to converse either, they just hung onto the boat fragment and hoped they didn’t hit another rock. It took all their focus and energy to keep their heads above the frigid water and stay alive. Sebastian’s toes tingled with the cold that seeped through his clothes and into his body. If they did not get out of the water soon, they could be in real trouble as their bodies started shutting down from the cold. Looking at his companions, he could see that Cenric’s eyelids were drifting shut. “Cenric! You must stay alert!” Somehow the boy seemed to hear him over the rushing water and his eyes popped back open. He gripped the wooden fragment a little tighter and pulled himself out of the water a bit more.

  Sebastian realized that the tunnel didn’t seem quite so dark. Either his eyes were getting used to it, or there was light coming in from somewhere. He looked over at Krystelle. “I see it too,” she said from between chattering teeth, “and none too soon.” She had one arm around Cenric now, keeping him from slipping off the makeshift raft. Sweeping around a corner, he could see they were emerging from the cave. There was a small beach just ahead where the river made a curve. Strange, the river appeared to come to a sharp edge past that beach and, rather than getting quieter, it seemed to be growing louder. Sebastian saw an outcropping of glowing green crystals jutting over river. Eimhin’s final warning as they paddled away from the dock suddenly made a lot more sense to him.

  “We have to get to the shoreline!” For a few frantic moments he kicked his feet hard, putting every ounce of his energy into moving their makeshift raft to the edge of the river. He could feel the raft gaining momentum as it neared the waterfall. Redoubling his efforts he realized it wasn’t going to be enough. He was too drained from so much time in the cold water and they were still too far from the beach. If he could not get them into the slower water eddying in the curve they would be in danger of going over the edge. “Kick harder!” He could feel the raft shift as Krystelle put all she had into helping, but it was all Cenric could do to hang on. The beach was only about thirty feet long where it touched the river, and the waterfall was about that distance past the far side. Another few moments and they would sweep past the sandy refuge.

  His foot hit bottom. Could it be? Holding onto the raft, he set his foot down. They had reached the shallows. Shouting to Krystelle, he anchored himself, “It’s shallow! You can touch bottom!” Her head whipped up and he could feel the change as her feet dug into the river bottom. Together they grabbed hold of Cenric and released the raft. Cenric went fully limp as their makeshift raft plummeted over the edge. Leaning against the current, they struggled forward, shoving Cenric’s dead weight ahead of him. Reaching the shore, they both collapsed, chests heaving.

  After about five minutes of laying there in the sand and fighting to catch their breath, Sebastian and Krystelle began to stir and take stock of their surroundings. Pulling off their soaked cloaks, they laid them out to dry. There was a stockpile of dry wood arranged to the side. Looking at Krystelle, she nodded. First order of business was to get a fire going. Shivering, they assembled a large stack in the middle of the beach. Sebastian frowned as he set the last stick on the pile, “All my flints went over with the raft,” he said.

  “Cenric!” she knelt by the semi-conscious boy, “We need you to wake up. I need you to make us a fire.”

  “Too tired…just want to sleep,” his eyes didn’t even open.

  “You can’t sleep. If you sleep you might never wake up. We need to get warm.” She slapped his face. Hard. Cenric’s eyes snapped open. “A fire, Cenric. You must start a fire.” Nodding, he reached his arm out and she helped him to his feet. Arm under
his shoulder, she half-dragged him to the stack of wood.

  Sinking to his knees, Cenric stared into the heart of the pile of wood. Krystelle collapsed next to him and Sebastian dragged himself closer. He could feel himself succumbing to the cold now as the adrenaline drained from his body. The seconds ticked by and nothing was happening. Cenric’s spell was not working. “Can’t…” he mumbled as his body slumped against Krystelle.

  “Come on Cenric.” Everything had gone dark now for Sebastian, but he could hear Krystelle’s voice through the fog. “Not you too!” Her hand shaking his arm brought him back to consciousness for the moment. Distantly he knew they were in trouble as she tried to get Cenric to focus. She turned to him, wet hair glued to her head, a desperate look in her eyes. “Do something!”

  He did not know what she wanted him to do about the fire. Cenric was the one with the magic. Cenric. He tilted his head at the boy as Cenric struggled to get his spell to work. Sebastian could see…something…reaching out from the boy into the wood pile. Weak threads of pulsing light connected Cenric to the logs, channeling energy to light the fire. Somehow Sebastian knew it would not be enough. He knew what needed to happen. These streamers needed to fill with heat, to be made stronger. In his mind he could picture them just as they should be to start the fire. The ribbons began to pulse and fill with the heat they needed, just as they did in Sebastian’s imagination. He watched as a flame danced along one of the smaller branches before blossoming into a small inferno. “There,” Cenric mumbled, “Can I sleep now?”

  “Not yet. We need to get some of those wet clothes off you.” With care she untied the boy’s cloak and pulled the tunic over his head, laying them out next to the fire. “Ok, Cenric. Stay close to the fire, but you can sleep,” said Krystelle.

  Sebastian sat there in his own wet clothes trying to come to grips with what he had seen. He was not sure what part he had played in lighting that fire and was equally unsure if he really wanted to know. They had a fire, that was the important thing. They huddled around the flames, thawing their frigid extremities. It did not take long for Sebastian’s head to clear and he looked around, taking stock of their predicament. “I’m thankful for the wood that’s been gathered here, but I wish Eimhin had left a store of supplies on this end rather than in the boat.”

  Krystelle glanced around the beachhead, “Foodstuffs and such would not have weathered well here and I doubt our path is well traveled. Eimhin believed the supplies in our boat would have sufficed for a time, but we would have been on our own soon anyhow. We are well into the wilderness, but you are a passable hunter and you know well my skills.”

  “Still, I would have liked to start this journey better outfitted. What about the map?”

  “Just here.” She pulled a moleskin wallet still secured in her belt and untied the bindings. “Some water seeped through, but it is unspoilt. Cenric is in no condition to travel just yet, and the sun will be setting in another hour or so. We need to rest now and worry about our next step in the morning.”

  Sebastian nodded, “The rest of our clothes need to dry also. We should strip down...” Krystelle gave him a pointed look. “I would not suggest…I mean, there’s enough wood here for me to build a small lean-to. That will provide shelter and some privacy while our clothes dry.”

  Without waiting for her to comment, Sebastian selected some of the longer branches to build a support frame and draped their cloaks over the cross-beam. The resulting structure divided their camp into halves. Krystelle moved to the far side of the shelter and Sebastian stripped to his small-clothes. Laying out his clothes, and Cenric’s, he tried to ignore the sounds coming from Krystelle’s portion of the camp as she undressed. He was even partially successful.

  On the far side of the mountains, the sun was setting, casting a long shadow over the valley. Their small beach cooled quickly, and Sebastian added logs to the fire, building it up for the long night ahead. Looking out over the wilderness, thoughts of their quest filled his mind. Somewhere out there was the mysterious city of Ha’vehl’on. They had escaped the Krenon, leaving the professionals to hold them off until he and his companions could return with the Moonstone. That charge felt heavy on Sebastian’s shoulders.

  As the new logs caught fire, crackling and hissing, he wondered again about what had happened earlier. Had Cenric really started that fire on his own? Sebastian had never used any kind of magic without the Sunstone present, and was sick at the thought he might have somehow tapped into those powers without the Stone. He wondered if using it had given him some kind of magical power. If so, it was power he did not want. He wished Adelwolf were here, or his uncle Kaleb, or just someone to talk to about it all. Looking over at the cloaks shielding Krystelle from view, he wondered what she would say.

  Making himself as comfortable as possible in the gritty sand, Sebastian diverted himself with a story. During long days working on his uncle’s farm he had often passed the time making up stories about adventures, wars, and quests. He had not made up any stories since leaving the farm. The reality of living this adventure had squashed his desire. His daydreams had always been much rosier than the experience he was having. Still, those stories were a comfort to him. This one began there on the beach with Krystelle, although Cenric was not with them. She was the princess and he the hero. Having saved her from mortal danger, they had washed up upon this beach. It was not long before exhaustion claimed him, and the story continued in his dreams.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Dmitri Mora edged down the deserted corridor, listening for any sign of his pursuers. He had managed to evade both the Krenon and their Dragon Guard enforcers so far, but there had been more than a few close calls that had left his heart racing. Hiding away in a bolthole Krystelle had used when she was a small girl, he had spent his time planning what to do next.

  He reasoned that with the fortress subdued, the Krenon would begin to lower their guard and he could take advantage of their inattention to free the rest of the High Council. Once that was done they could begin to formulate a strategy to recall Gabirelean forces in the field and prepare to re-take the Dazhberg once Krystelle and her companions returned with the Moonstone.

  He had confidence in Krystelle and her abilities with the sword, but this was a battle steeped in magic and he hoped Cenric and Sebastian would be up to the task. He worried about Sebastian. The young man was unknowingly tapping into powers that were beyond his control and Dmitri hoped that entrusting him with the recovery of the Moonstone would not prove to be a disaster.

  Thankfully, Sebastian had not yet worked out his own lineage. He would, in time and Dmitri feared what might happen when he did. Arch-mage Philon had informed the council of all that he knew just before Sebastian arrived at the Dazhberg with the Sunstone. Pulling Krystelle aside, Dmitri had warned her of what might happen when Sebastian learned the truth. Now it was in her hands.

  Dmitri slowed as he approached the entrance to his bolthole. Head cocked, he listened for any sign of one of the random patrols that still searched the corridors of the fortress. That’s when he heard the whisper of voices coming from a chamber just past his refuge. Curious, he bypassed his entrance and sidled closer to the chamber door, straining to hear their conversation.

  “So Radomil, have you managed to find any sign of him?”

  “It seems he has left the fortress,” said the voice belonging to this Radomil. “The High Council sent him in pursuit of the Moonstone, along with his two companions.”

  “Hmmm…we must send a message to Sterling Lex. He will want to know if the Moonstone is coming back in play. It is a bold move for the knights.”

  “Tapani, there is more you must know. The Krenon leader, Baladeva, has gone after them. It could proved disastrous should Baladeva manage to kill…someone is listening.”

  Dmitri backed away from the door, drawing his sword. He was not sure who was behind that door, but they did not sound like either Krenon or Dragon Guard. The door slammed open and two black-robed figures m
oved into the hallway. Dark Wizards!

  “What have we here?” said the first, by voice Dmitri decided this must be the one called Tapani. But how did they get here, inside the fortress?

  “You are no Krenon,” he said, bringing his sword to the ready.

  “Very insightful,” said Tapani. “I wonder who you might be, wandering these halls? Radomil, see what you can discover.”

  Tapani’s companion moved forward, arm outstretched as Dmitri backed away. “Leave me be or I’ll call for the Krenon to come for you,” said Dmitri, gambling that these two did not want their presence known.

  Tapani laughed. “I am quite certain you don’t want the Krenon involved in this any more than we do.” The laughter stopped and Tapani’s face went dark. “Now put down that sword.”

  “Not going to happen,” said Dmitri.

  Radomil was an arms-length past the tip of Dmitri’s sword when he stopped, closing his eyes for a brief moment. They popped back open and he half-turned to Tapani, “It is Dmitri Mora of the Gabirelean High Council. Quite the prize I must say.”

  “I am no prize for your belt wizard!” snapped Dmitri.

  “I will say it one last time,” said Tapani, his voice cold. “Surrender your sword.”

  “Never.”

  “So be it.” Tapani raised a hand and a single bolt of light pulsed out toward Dmitri, striking his chest just above his heart. Pain lanced through him and he dropped to his knees, sword falling out of his grip. Clutching his breast, he watched as the two dark wizards turned their backs and walked away. Falling to the cold stone his last thoughts were of Krystelle and how much she always reminded him of her mother.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The first rays of the new day crept up Sebastian’s face and he startled himself into wakefulness with a loud snore. Blinking his eyes clear, he pulled himself up to a seated position. He groaned. His aching back, legs, and arms protested the previous day’s exertions. Growing up on a farm, he was used to a hard day’s work, but that business of frigid water and fighting the currents tested muscles he hadn’t known existed. Warm sunlight cut through morning chill, feeling good to the raised gooseflesh on his legs and arms.