A Mage's Power (Journey to Chaos) (57 page)

Eric palm struck Dengel with his left hand while releasing
the threads with his right. Dengel fell backwards through the door and out of Eric's
mind. Weary but full of satisfaction, Eric closed the door and locked it.

Outside, Siron was tiring and Kasile had reached her limit.
The combination of limited training, armor, mana claws, and intense combat was
too much for her. One soldier, furious at the death of his friends, finally
pushed past the others and attacked with the intent to kill. He shield-bashed
Siron aside just long enough for his sword to reach Kasile. It shattered her
barrier, pierced her armor, and her scream was heard in the heavens.

More screams followed: Siron when he saw his princess
injured, the soldier who stabbed her as he was run through, and finally, Selen
when he was stabbed in the back.

“That's strange,” Kallen said. Her crystal impaled his heart
and sucked a glowing grey mass into orbit around the central light. “I didn't
think he had one . . .” She shrugged. To the remaining soldiers, she shouted, “Hey!
Since your lord's dead, doesn't that mean his son is your boss now?” The
soldiers paused, then sheathed their swords and backed away.

“Calm down, Loverboy,” Kallen said to the glowing Siron. “Help
has arrived.” She pointed to the entrance were Tiza and Nolien stood. “Whichever
one of you's the healer, you got work to do.” Nolien was at Kasile's side in an
instant. The movement jostled a griffin pendant on his neck.

Finally, Kallen turned to Eric, who was just waking up, and
said, “You know, it took you long enough. Did the old fossil give you trouble?”

Eric grinned and said, “No, I just got lost in my head. It's
a little bigger than I thought.”

Chapter 21
No
Longer in Need of Help

A blue jay and a crane flew by the castle and alighted on a
ledge to rest. Inside the stained glass, they saw a peculiar sight: three
mercenaries, an explorer, a duke, a princess, and a total of ten corpses. Their
blood leaked from their armor and ran in the groves of the floor. Above it all,
the banners of the noble houses danced peacefully in the breeze.

The duke bared his sword at the explorer. “Whose side are
you on?”

“Eric. Explain.”

“No thanks, I know you'll want to gloat.”

“Gloat?” Kallen placed a hand on her chest. “
Me
? What
about my modesty?”

Eric exploded in laughter. It poured out of him and simply
wouldn't stop. After all the drama of the last twenty hours, the idea of Kallen
having any kind of modesty was just too much.

“Eric's an interesting guy,” Kallen said as he rolled in
helpless hysterics.

Siron looked from one to the other. “How does that answer my
question?”

“We missed everything!” Tiza shouted. “You're an idiot,
Tenderfoot. You said you knew the layout! We missed all the action!”

Kasile smiled wryly. “We could have used a spirited fighter
like you.” She coughed and hacked.

 Nolien said something foul under his breath and his staff
shone brighter than before. “Please don't talk, Your Highness. Save your
strength.”

Tiza stared at Kasile; armor and wounds and sword. She was
in pain and yet she didn't complain. “You better do a good job, Tenderfoot, ‘cause
I'm gonna beat her up later.”

Siron raised his sword. “STOP!” Eric shouted. “That's Tizan
for 'I request an honorable duel'!”

Siron spun the sword and returned it to its scabbard. “Then
why didn't she say so?”

“'There are two things men will never understand.’” Eric
beamed as he quoted his mentor quoting the founder. “‘Chaos and women.’”

“Then you are the one she's chosen?”

It was the king. Up close, he was rather intimidating; head
and shoulders tall than Eric, a scar across his forehead and muscles clearly
visible under his regal clothing. His expression was stern and his tone
accusing.
An overprotective father that could have me hanged . . .

Reluctantly, Eric said, “I guess so, Your Majesty.”

The king glowed with non-light. It dove into Eric and spread
over his soul and constricted. He screamed silently as it pulled him from his
body. His vision blurred.

“That's quite enough.”

Eric fell to the floor in a heap, gasping for breath. Slowly
his vision came back into focus, but hallucination sounded more reasonable then
what he saw when it did. Tasio the Trickster floated five inches above the
blood and polished limestone. His right arm was a golden net and his left
flipped the bird to the thing trapped inside: a grey ghost-like cloud.

“Trickster!” the ghost shouted. “You shall not stop this!
This will accomplish its mission!”

“Quiet, you!” Tasio scolded. “I didn't search all over this
world just to listen to you
rant
.”

“Tasio, what's going on?” Eric asked. “What is that?”

Tasio's bright smile clicked on. “Oh, hey, Eric! Long time
no see!”

Eric scowled. “Tasio, answer my question.”

“Mercenary Watley!” Siron exclaimed. “It is the behavior of
mad men to speak with such disrespect to the God of Tricksters!”

Tasio waved away his concern. “Aw, it's all right. Me and
Eric go
way
back.” He turned a mischievous smile on said mercenary. “Don't
we?”

“Unfortunately. Now tell me what that thing is!”

“That is precisely what it is: a thing.” Eric's scowl
deepened. “It's a bully. No, more accurately, it is a
fragment
of a
bully.”

“This will accomplish its mission!” the bully fragment
shouted.

“And a very
dull
fragment at that,” Tasio said with
disdain. His ears drooped and he hovered slightly lower. “It must have lodged
itself in there. Poor guy.”

He turned to Kallen. Eric had seen monsters regrowing limbs
and a girl pull objects out of thin air, but this was the strangest thing he
had ever seen. Kallen was kowtowing.

Tasio patted her on the head. “Ah, Kallen, how's my favorite
follower?” An electric current flowed from the green hair and frizzed up his
own.

Kallen laughed. She wasn't bowing to show reverence, but to
hide the static spell she was chanting. “She is very pleased, milard, for it is
doubly pleasing to trick the trickster.”

“That's my girl! Keep up the amazing work.”

Kallen smiled widely. “I will, milard!”

“And now I shall take my leave before this thing kills
anyone else. Ta-da!” Both he and the ghost vanished without a trace.
Anyone
else!?

A heinous smell assaulted Eric's nose: roadkill that had
been left in the sun too long. He spun  and watched in horror as a body rapidly
decomposed. The King of Ataidar had become a reeking chunk of meat. Eric fought
the urge to retch.

“The king is dead!” Siron declared. He knelt to Kasile. “Long
live the queen!”

Kasile wanted to be queen. Eric knew all the things she
planned to do after her coronation; all those agendas. She wanted to be queen
but not like this. She was hysterical. Tiza had to hold her down to keep her
from reopening her wound. Siron was instantly at her side offering comfort and
Eric did what he could with their link. Kallen
poked
the body with her staff.

“Fascinating . . .All known processes of reanimation have
been unable to prevent zombification . . .” She circled the fallen king. “Thus
have never been able to deceive with any reliability . . .Perfectly preserved!
. . .The theory was correct!”

“What theory would that be!?” Siron demanded. Kallen stopped
and stared blankly.

She forgot we were here!

“Oh! The Theory of Organic Reanimation, it's easy.” Kallen
returned to her pacing and poking. “If you can restart the OS and keep the meat
from spoiling. it will function as it did in life.”

“I'll thank you not to refer to the late king with such
disrespect,” Siron said coldly.

Kallen stopped again. “Do you mind if I call your dad a
chunk of meat?”

Siron's throat closed. “I . . .I . . .I d . . .” He gulped
and covered his eyes.

“I was checking for a heart,” Kallen said casually. “It
would explain why he was so pale.”

“If you thought he was evil, then why'd you hire yourself
out to him?” Eric asked.

 Kallen winked. “A girl's gotta live.”

“Have you ever given a straight answer in your life?”

“The hypothesis would not be entirely inaccurate to
explicate, that at some point in the past, I may or may not, have submitted a
response that was not entirely and completely curved.”

Suddenly Eric's head hurt. It could been the strain of his
duel with Dengel, but it was more likely talking with this twisted girl.

“Okay, then
I
will explain. Kallen's known about my
tenant since the second challenge of the contest.” He blushed at the memory. “Possibly
the first. She was waiting for me to toss him out, which is why she snapped
this awful thing on my neck.”

Kallen produced the key and unlocked the collar while he
continued.

“I assume she planned to betray Duke Esrah from the start
and that's why she made a contract stating that she only had to fight Dengel.
It would dissolve as soon as I banished him. So she was on our side to begin
with, but wanted to make some money.”

Kallen shrugged. “Yeah, that's it, more or less. Hey you!
Girl With The Dirty Hair, are you still looking for a fight?”

At that instant, Tiza was about to bash a soldier on the
head. She couldn't care less about a change in “tent government” or playing 20
questions; she wanted a fight. At Kallen's shout, she paused mid-swing and
accepted.
Well this should be interesting: unfounded confidence vs. endless
arrogance.

While Kallen played with her new toy, Siron roused the
servants to clean up the failed coup. The king's remains were carried away for
royal cremation while the other ten corpses were prepared for the journey to
Esrah and their own cremation. Others got to work cleaning the floor; Siron
among them.

Kasile was still bawling when Nolien finished mending her
wounds. She was a wreck by the time her ladies-in-waiting arrived to take her
to her room. They removed her armor, cleaned her up, and wrapped her in a
red-gold robe. The warriors were called in only once she had reverted to “polite
princess mode.”
With the composure expected of a new monarch, Kasile ordered
all the remaining henchman of the previous Duke Esrah to await trial in prison,
cleared her companions and the Dragon's Lair of all charges and offered a
reward to Nolien.

“That's not—”

Tiza elbowed him in the stomach. “A bad idea! You know,
Princess Tent Burner, he wouldn't have made it without me.”

“Neither of you would have come without my message,” Kallen
said.

Siron rounded on them. “How dare you impose on Her Majesty's
generosity!”

“Siron, stand down,” Kasile ordered. “All who helped
preserve the honor of the Throne of Ataidar will be rewarded.”

“Excellent!” Kallen said. “If you need me, I'll be in the
Royal Archives.” She stood up and walked towards the door. “Enjoying my
unlimited access.”

“The Royal Archives!?” Siron screeched. “Only elite scholars
are allowed in there!”

Kallen looked over her shoulder. “Awww, I'm flattered you
think that highly of me.” Twiddling her fingers, she disappeared out the door.

Nolien stared. “Did she do all this for that? I thought she
was worried about Eric, like us.”

“That's why you came? Ow!”

“Well, of course, Dimwit!” Tiza lowered her hand. “We're a
team, comrades in arms,
friends
.” For just instant, her eyes were soft. “And
friends don't let friends hog all the action!”

“She was terribly worried about you.” Nolien winced as Tiza
punched his arm. “I was too.”

Eric's grin split his face. The three of them had endured
the most mundane missions, the Yacian caverns, and the Kyraan desert. His
teamwork with Tiza brought down an adult mage. Now they charged headlong into a
palace coup solely because they thought he needed them. How could he have ever
doubted them? 

He grabbed them by the arms and pulled them into a big hug.
In an instant, they embraced him in return. He had only been this happy
twice
since his parents died; the greater was meeting Kallen, but the first and
fondest was a group hug with his school friends. This time it was his—

“Guild!” Eric shouted. “The soldiers raided it!”

“Unfortunately, yes. My father ordered a raid last night. I
do not mean to be the bearer of bad news, and I hope you will forgive me, but I
fear the Dragon's Lair no longer stands.”

With new urgency, the novices raced out of the hospital
wing, out of the palace, and down the sunlight streets of the Purple Town of
Royal Glory. Even Nolien kept pace as they burst out of the curtain wall. They
didn't dare stop until they arrived at the Dragon's Lair.

The block was trashed and the guild's street cratered. The
front door was smashed in just like the bridge house. They cautiously stepped
over the broken wood, scattered glass, and warped stone towards the front desk.

Nothing had changed. None of the other doors had been broken.
The mirror off to the side was still in one piece. The meeting table even had
the morning's paper and a half-drank cup of coffee on it. Mia sat at her desk, as
perky as ever.

“Heellooo! How are your summer jobs going?”

“Ah . . .Mia . . .” Eric said. “Wasn't the guild raided?”

Mia assumed a cute thinking pose. “Raided? Hmm . . .” She
slammed her fist into her palm. “Oh yes! Soldiers in fancy armor came by last
night after the officers left on business. I'll show you.”

 Mia pushed a button on her keyboard. The lights dimmed and
a screen lowered from the ceiling. She pushed a second button and the screen
came to life. It showed the same kind of soldiers that arrested Eric breaking
down the front door. In seconds, they surrounded Mia. When she said she was on
the clock, one grabbed her thin arm.