Magician Prince (21 page)

More cannon fire could be heard in the
distance, but it was directed toward either side of the now
contested gate, drawing away potential reinforcements and allowing
the kingdom soldiers to clash with the vastly outnumbered magicians
in an attempt to gain a foothold within the castle’s walls. If that
were to happen then Castle Wolfsbane would be lost before the day
was out. Tomlin joined the fray and prayed to Ashura to give him
protection. He doubted that she would heed his call, but hoped that
the goddess would have some pity on his soul.

Cutting through the soldier’s armor was
proving to be an impossible task as Tomlin’s dagger did little more
than scratch their iron plates when he slashed and ringlets of
chain at the joints deflected his strikes at the usual points of
weakness. His spellbook proved to be a formidable weapon when he
used the thick tome to bludgeon a man in the face and bury his
dagger into the helmet’s eye slit as the soldier was momentarily
stunned. The soldier stumbled back and screamed in pain and rage as
he tried to separate Tomlin’s head from his neck with no luck.
These were no ordinary soldiers. The fine armor and swords were a
dead giveaway. These men were warrior caste. They were the type of
men who grew up literally fighting for their next meal. That meant
that the kingdom was putting a great deal of faith in the ability
of these men to break the magicians’ lines.

Kenzai hellfire erupted from somewhere in the
back and cascaded over all of the men fighting. Only a few
magicians nearer the back like Skynryd and a few that had their
magical barriers up were spared. Tomlin’s body felt strangely numb
and he recognized the feeling for what it was. His magic along with
most of those around him had been drained. What had been a hotly
contested battle moments before quickly translated into a slaughter
as magicians found that their greatest weapon had been taken away
in the moment that they needed it most.

Levak was one of the lucky ones. His shield
had spared him the complete loss of his magic, but the blue flame
also dissolved his shield and the tip of a sword kissed his forearm
causing him to drop his staff. He moved back holding his sword out
in front as did Tomlin and managed to grab the staff of a fallen
magician. In all there were ten magicians, half with no magic
reserves, left to defend the gate and they were being methodically
forced away by the dozens or perhaps hundreds of Kenzai and
warriors that came through. The sound of a squeaky wheel spinning
followed by the abrupt crash of the rest of the gate being opened
only served to confirm his fears about the kingdom’s intention to
form a rallying point within the castle yard.

A horn was blowing, but this one came from
within the castle. Xander had hoped to hold the castle, but he had
a back up plan in place in case it looked like things were not
going to go their way. It was time to retreat and regroup. Then
they would take the fight to Mollifas while the capital was largely
undefended.

It only lasted for a second, but Tomlin saw a
familiar face among the kingdom’s ranks. How long had it been since
that tall man with the dark hair had been held in their dungeon?
Kellen had finally found his way back and it seemed that he was
about to get his revenge. “Finish them!” Kellen commanded in his
deep baritone voice and the men moved as one trying to box them
in.

Some of the magicians fought to their last
breath and some ran instead, but Tomlin was frozen in place, not
out of fear, but failure. So much death… People he knew since he
was a boy… If he had done something differently, maybe he could
have-

“Get out of here, fool!” Skynryd stepped in
front of Tomlin and roughly shoved him away from the soldiers.

Levak was a dirge of destruction as he held
off the entire company of soldiers. His combination of swordplay
and staff combat was like a deadly dance that kept the soldiers
from advancing. At some point his magic would falter and then he
would fall like the others, but for now he was giving Tomlin and
Skynryd a chance to escape. Tomlin wanted to fight at his side, but
he knew that he would only get in the warrior-magician’s way.

The old father’s hands clutched at Tomlin’s
cloak and tried to push him away again, but Tomlin would not be
moved. Instead Skynryd pulled him close. “Do not let his sacrifice
be for nothing.”

“I hate to ruin this touching moment,” Levak
grunted with every strike and parry, “but I don’t plan on dying.
I’ll be right behind you.”

It was all Tomlin needed to galvanize him
into movement and he ran for the castle’s double doors. They were
barred, but there was a smaller door within the larger one that
should still be unbolted. Hand-cannons fired behind him and Tomlin
instinctively dove to the ground. He rolled on his side so that he
could see behind him. Skynryd was lying face down on the ground,
motionless.

No!
Tomlin’s mind reeled.

Tomlin got to his knees and scurried to the
old priest’s side. He was not moving. As Tomlin crawled closer he
noticed blood beginning to pool underneath the former servant of
the goddess of life. There were bloody circles on Skynryd’s back
where he was shot and the blood soaked into the green fabric of his
robe.

Tears clouded his vision and Tomlin tried to
wipe them away as he fumbled for his own hand-cannon and the bag of
powder that he carried at his side. He shoved the ball into the
barrel. Levak was being forced back even as the massive figure of
Kellen in his shining armor and brandishing his warhammer came to
the forefront of the battle. The last time these two men faced one
another it was in a fistfight and Kellen had cleaned Levak’s clock.
Of course Levak had not used magic in that altercation, but with a
hundred men at his back the advantage was decidedly Kellen’s.
Tomlin unsteadily poured dwarven powder into the weapon’s pan, not
caring that he was using too much or that some of the precious
powder spilled on the ground. He inhaled a long breath as he took
aim. Now he forced himself to calm down making his movement slow,
deliberate. It would take a half-minute to reload the weapon. This
would be his only shot.

He exhaled slowly and pulled the trigger. The
hammer ignited the powder in the pan; Tomlin held the gun steady
for a few more seconds before the miniature cannon went off and a
tiny lead ball flew towards Kellen and hit his shoulder plate.
Kellen fell to the ground, but he still lived to Tomlin’s
disappointment. Levak must have found that disappointing too,
because he shoved his staff’s blade down into the knight or so it
seemed until a stream of blue fire traveled up the length of the
staff and caked over Levak. Then the rest of the men swarmed over
Levak and he was gone from Tomlin’s view.

“No!” This time the word escaped Tomlin’s
lips. He was still on his knees beside Skynryd’s body when Levak
went down. When the soldiers were done with Levak they came for
Tomlin and only then did he run to the relative safety of the
castle’s door within a door. He yanked at it and it did not budge!
Again he pulled, this time more frantically and it still did not
open.

It is barred! It can’t end like this with
salvation just behind a closed door.

His head banged against the door in defeated
frustration and it gave just a little, but it was enough to bring
him back to his senses. Tomlin pushed on the door and it opened
easily. He skated inside and slammed the door shut behind him in
one motion. His head whipped around looking for the hefty wooden
bar that would barricade the door and hold off the soldiers at
least for a while. There it was propped up against the double
doors. He jammed it into position just before bodies started
crashing into the door from the opposite end.

Tomlin laughed and he thought he might break
into hysterics if he did not stop himself. Skynryd was dead; Levak
was dead; and Tomlin almost died because he forgot how to open a
door. He laughed again and wiped away fresh tears that began
rolling down his cheeks.

For a second time the castle’s horn calling
for retreat blew. Magicians would be transporting out to locations
all around the kingdom. Their positions were being abandoned even
now.

The sound of a child crying bounced off the
walls in the empty hall. Alia’s old study and workshop were not far
and he guessed it was Avelice. He hoped that Alia would be there
too. Not because she would save him. She could not. He hoped to see
Alia there, because the alternative would mean that she was outside
somewhere and could be among the dead too.

He opened the door to the workshop and found
Kaleb trying to quiet Avelice. They were alone. “Where is Alia?” he
asked, afraid of hearing the answer.

“She said for us to stay here. She said she
would come back for us.” The boy was fighting back the urge to
break into tears.

“Be strong. It is going to be all right,”
Tomlin urged him with a hint of magic laced into his words to calm
Kaleb’s nerves. If only it was that easy to calm his own.

How many magicians were left in the castle
that could use transportation to escape? Half would have evacuated
at the first horn and the rest would have begun at the second. That
was only moments ago, but he expected that the castle would be
mostly empty except for any apprentices and magicians with… limited
talents like him. There had to be another way out. There was always
another way out, if one was willing to look hard enough for it.

“Tomlin, thank goodness. I thought-“ the
voice came from behind him and he spun around, but was in Alia’s
embrace before he fully registered who it was. She held him tightly
for a moment before letting him go. “I am glad you are alive.”

“As am I,” he agreed.

“The kingdom is swarming into the castle
grounds now that so many of us have fled. We need to do the same.”
It was Ryonus just behind Alia. “Alia will take Avelice for the
child’s safety. It will be a rough trip transporting three, but I
will take Tomlin and Kaleb.”

A rush of relief rolled over Tomlin. He had
seen the effects of trying to transport three people before, but it
was better odds than a guaranteed death at the hands of the
kingdom. He was about to agree to that, but Kaleb had another
concern.

“We can’t leave Byrn behind,” he pleaded.
“You said he was in a tower. We should get him.”

“There may not be enough time for that,”
Ryonus warned, “We must go.”

Kaleb was about to protest, but Tomlin
stepped in. “It is okay, Kaleb. You go with Ryonus and I will get
Byrn.” Alia looked like she might argue, but seeing Tomlin’s
resolve, decided to let his plan go unchallenged. “If one of you
can spare a rune, then I will rescue Byrn from the tower and he can
in turn save me.”

“It is too risky,” Ryonus began, but ceased
his rebuttal when Alia handed Tomlin a rune. His face was always
serious, but somehow seemed more earnest that usual as Ryonus
reminded the bard, “If things don’t work out as you plan with Byrn
just remember to try and picture yourself as being lighter than
air. Then imagine yourself translucent like a ghost. Finally,
picture yourself not being there at all and you won’t be.”

Tomlin nodded. He had heard the absurd
instructions countless times before. It seemed impossible for him
to imagine not existing and so he was never able to weave the
spell. He would make the attempt again if it became a last resort,
but held little hope of success. His chances were much better to
save Byrn and have the master magician use the rune to get them
both to Lion’s Landing and reunite with the others.

Alia wished him luck before vanishing with
her daughter in her arms. Ryonus and Kaleb did the same a moment
later, leaving Tomlin alone in the workshop. A loud pounding at the
large double doors that was reminiscent of how an ogre would knock
interrupted the sudden silence. He had to find Byrn in a hurry
before the castle was overrun.

The second horn was sounding as Xander’s
spell preparation was nearing completion. He had spent most of the
morning in his tower outside of Byrn’s cell meticulously drawing a
symbol on the ground and assembling several Atmari stones around
the room in preparation of this spell. He had hoped for more time.
His plan had been to use Byrn to finish off the kingdom army before
they could penetrate the castle’s defenses and save the Collective,
but it seems that now he would just have to settle for slaughtering
all of the kingdom dogs instead. Most of the Collective that would
escape would begin heading toward Mollifas and he could still meet
up with them there and lay claim to the throne, but it was still
disappointing to lose so many Collective members when their
ultimate victory was almost at hand.

Byrn sat impatiently on the floor of his
cell. He had ceased asking questions after the first hour or so
when it was clear that he would be getting no answer. The young
sorcerer’s eyes burned with hate as he tried to figure out Xander’s
plan. Xander almost told him. He wanted Byrn to know the truth
before the master stroke was delivered, but he knew from experience
that it was so much more satisfying to wait for the moment when he
could look in Byrn’s disbelieving eyes at the utter horror and
surprise in that moment.

The grandmaster stood up and took a step back
from the coal rune he had drawn and looked it over for
imperfections. It took up half of the floor and was positioned as
close to the wall opposite Byrn’s stone cell as possible to limit
any negative effects from the anti-magic runes that blocked Byrn’s
ability to regenerate magic. “It is complete,” he told Riona who
stood nearby watching him. “Finish sketching it out in your
grimoire quickly. We must make haste if we hope to destroy our
enemies this day.”