A Wizard's Tears Read online

  She need not have worried. With an explosion of light, the crystal staff bathed the cavern in a blue glow, giving her the sight she needed to find Keldoran. She looked at the artefact, watching it from its resting-place on the pedestal. It shimmered with blue light, and to her eyes was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. With the staff as her guide, she ran over to Keldoran, lifting him up into a sitting position on the ground.

  She was stunned to see his eyes flicker, and open. His body felt warm to the touch, and his breathing was regular. No blue energy seeped from his mouth or his fingertips. With a cry of hope and exultation, she hugged him with a fierce strength. His vision had been right. He had saved himself!

  Keldoran did not express the same joy. Although he had healed himself, the crystal staff now containing his land magick rather than his weaker body, he felt no pleasure. The fact remained; he had killed Relb. He did not deserve to live, to laugh, and to feel exuberance. He lived now, for one further purpose: to heal Corg, and that was all. After that he could not think.

  He stood, helping Yvanna up. "Thank you," he said to her matter-of-factly. "I would never have made it here without you."

  She smiled deeply from his gratitude, pleased, at last, that she had proved useful. Since they had arrived in Malana she had felt helpless and lost. Keldoran's compliment meant a lot to her. "I'm glad you're back to normal," she replied.

  Normal was not the description Keldoran would use to describe himself at this moment. However, he smiled back grudgingly. He would not give in to the despair, or indeed show Yvanna how much he hurt. They must get to Corg, and quickly.

  Keldoran looked over to the crystal staff, and raised his hand towards it. The staff shuddered for a second on its perch, then swept through the air to land in his outstretched hand. When it touched him, the blue energies slivered up his hand, but this time, they did not cause him pain or discomfort. They were a part of him now, controlled, as natural as his arms and legs.

  Yvanna's eyes grew wide as she saw the crystal staff fly through the air from a silent command by Keldoran. "How did you know…how to do that?"

  "My visions," answered Keldoran. "The staff is giving me new knowledge. Just touching it, being close to it, is enough for it to send images to my mind, telling me what to do."

  "I am glad to be with you," said Yvanna genuinely. "I feel safer with you protecting me with your new powers."

  Keldoran looked at her quizzically. It seemed an odd thing for her to say. Shrugging, he began his journey back through the catacombs, leading her safely, the light from the staff guiding their way.

  14. Raising The Army A flap of wings made Suralubus look up, tearing his eyes away from the guild of mages. He had been trying to break through the sorcerer's shields, trying to find an opening into the guild, but to no avail. He led a group of mages, including Mandorl Kesar, surrounding the guild, probing and searching. The sorcerer had been methodical, and had barred all entry by a shimmering energy barrier. Suralubus was tired, frustrated, and worried for those in the guild, especially Vergail, the priestess. She would sorely need his help, as indeed, did Keldoran and the others, and he felt completely helpless for the first time in his life.

  Thus the sight he saw in the skies sent waves of hope and vigour through his aching body. They had come! By his summons, they had come as had been foretold!

  All mages' eyes turned heavenward in awe. Above, filling the sky, were a fleet of birdmen, around a hundred or so by Suralubus' estimations. They were the size of an adult male in length, and had two legs and two arms like humans. That was where the similarity ended. Attached to each arm was a huge feathered wing, pale brown, like an eagle. The birdmen's head was akin to a bird of prey, with a long yellow beak and yellow, slanted eyes looking out from furry brown feathers. Suralubus wondered where the eagle ended and the human began, for they wore soft, greycoloured vests and grey trousers, covering any nudity but giving room for their great wings to take to the air.

  One of the birdmen swooped down, landing dextrously onto the ground before Suralubus. Atop this birdman, hugging onto his neck fiercely, was an Ice Lord. Delicately, the birdman bowed low, allowing the Ice Lord to slide off his back with dignity, and not to clamber awkwardly down to the ground, as a human would.

  Suralubus knelt down before the new arrival, paying homage to one of the ancient race. To be in the presence of an Ice Lord was enough to command respect. They were part of the land, forged in the same fires. Ice Lords had been here long before any humans, and would be here after the humans left the world. They were Elrohen. Some said that if all the Ice Lords were wiped out in some catastrophe, the world would never recover, and transform into a barren, dusty world devoid of life.

  "Rise," spoke the Ice Lord, his voice a whispering musical lilt.

  Suralubus did as he was bidden, looking closely at the Ice Lord for the first time. He wore a white cloak over his blue skin, and soft white boots. His head had no hair, and his eyes were a pitch black, large and mesmerising. It was difficult not to stare at them, and Suralubus blinked a few times to stop himself. "I thank you for coming so promptly," he said in obvious gratitude.

  "It is time," said the Ice Lord. "Even in our home in the far north we have detected the land's pain, and have been in contact with the one with our magick."

  Suralubus frowned slightly before realisation came to him. "Keldoran," he said simply, nodding in understanding.

  "I know his name just as he knows mine. I am Vo'Loth, and I have come to aid you in this time of change."

  Vo'Loth turned to gaze at the mages' guild. "I can feel him in there, for the land guides me to him. He has healed himself with the crystal staff, and his power is now held within the artefact, ready to use at his command." Suralubus' heart surged in sudden hope. "He has the power to defeat the stranger to our lands, then!"

  "That remains to be seen," answered Vo'Loth abruptly, without a hint of emotion. "The stranger who has corrupted our land and brought me back to these shores is an enigma. He is not of this world. How he came to be here is a mystery, ergo, his powers are also a mystery. He may find our magicks easy to quell. Even now, I sense his dark forces growing. He has constructed a structure, a temple, and his powers coalesce there."

  "How do you know of this?" asked Suralubus, in awe at the power of the Ice Lord. He had studied their race in books since he had been a boy, intrigued and fascinated by them. Their powers were part of the land, not created by chanting spell craft. They held the most power on Elrohen, as did the young man, Keldoran, who was born a land mage. Once again Suralubus thought on the theory that the world was a living organism, and it seemed clear to him now that it was gathering its antibodies: the Ice Lord, Keldoran, and the birdmen, to protect it.

  "The land tells me," answered Vo'Loth. "I can feel its disharmony. The presence of the outsider reverberates through the stone and heart. He causes the land much pain and suffering. My nerves are tingling with the same pain." "Do you know what he is trying to achieve? Can you see Vergail, the priestess? She is an innocent caught up in this."

  "That remains to be seen, for the land cannot foretell the future. As to the priestess, she is in the dark temple. He is using her to increase his power, drawing on her faith for sustenance."

  "Is she ok? We must break through these barriers-" Vo'Loth cut off Suralubus sharply. "She is no longer innocent. This stranger has charmed her. Her mind is no longer her own. She will attack us, to protect him." Suralubus wrestled with his frustration, anger flaring at the Ice Lord's words. "We must help her-"

  "She is no longer important to the land," boomed Vo'Loth, ignoring the mage's pleas. "What is important, is the stranger, and what he is doing here. That is where we will focus our attention."

  The mage knew better than to argue with one of the ancients, despite his irritation at the Ice Lord's logic. Vo'Loth appeared cold to him, and he smiled at the irony: a cold heart for a cold being. However, he could not shake his worry for Vergail, and, secretly to himself, he wo
uld find her and save her as soon as they got through the sorcerer's barriers, no matter what the Ice Lord said.

  He watched as Vo'Loth approached the barrier, and reached out to touch the shimmering energies. Suralubus wanted to warn the Ice Lord, but held his tongue. He had seen what the barrier could do, if it were to be touched. One of the mages had tried this and had lost his hand. Part of him actually wanted the Ice Lord to lose his hand; perhaps, to teach him some respect and break down that arrogant aloofness of him.

  Vo'Loth pushed his hand through the barrier, and out again, with no apparent effect to his hand. A smile played upon his blue lips, but disappeared before it could take form. Turning, he looked towards Suralubus. The mage could now see smoke rising from the Ice Lord's hand, as his skin burned from his contact with the barrier.

  "Your hand…" pointed out the mage, amazed the Ice Lord had not cried out in pain.

  "Of no importance. I will endure. I have analysed the properties of the barrier through my touch. It is time, now, for the land to fight back this corruption."

  Vo'Loth's eyes narrowed slightly, and Suralubus watched in awe as the Ice Lord's hand stopped smoking, returning once more to its light blue colour. He had obviously healed himself, by will, so it seemed. Suralubus gave the Ice Lord grudging respect. He might be arrogant, looking down at other races like they were gnats, but he could not contest the Ice Lord's strength. This was someone who would never cry out in agony, and he was certain his wounded hand would have caused great pain. This was someone who would fight to the end, and for a just cause.

  The Ice Lord turned back to the barrier, watching it keenly. His eyes, lidless, moved to and fro, noting the glowing energies running along the sorcerer's creation. For moments he just stood, and then Suralubus noticed his eyes narrowing in concentration. He was preparing himself for a spell of some kind. Suralubus knew the Ice Lords had an innate ability, a sense, as it were, of manipulating the land around them without so much as a word or an incantation. For all he knew, the Ice Lord had already sent out his power!

  The barrier sizzled and bubbled, as something struck it, not from the outside, but from within. Like a virus, a black growth appeared on the wall of energy, growing and pulsating. It soon covered the barrier, transforming it into a black wall of darkness. For moments it stood thus, and then the Ice Lord's eyes flared open, large pools of deep power once more. The barrier shattered into thousands of small, tiny fragments.

  "It is done." Vo'Loth turned to gesture to his birdmen to approach him. "Now, we enter, and seek out the outsider. It is time to end this affront to our world."

  Deep inside the guild, in the temple of his own creation, Lorkayn stopped his work momentarily, glancing behind him in annoyance. His barrier had been destroyed. So, the mages of this land were more resourceful than he had thought. It was no matter. They could not stop his energies now.

  He turned to gaze at the priestess, who lay in a nimbus of white light, the powers within her flooding out into him. He could feel the strength inside of him, the forces pulsing inside him, and he was giddy from the joy of it. The priestess held great power, given to her from her god. He was tapping into this raw energy, using it to fuel him and his own might.

  He was almost ready.

  The Slardinian, who had come back to him, wounded, cowered behind him in fear. The energies rippling through the temple were so strong and violent that the lizard man dared not approach any further. Lorkayn had not even paid attention to him; his thoughts and arrogance on his power building, not on the fact that the Slardinian had failed in its mission to kill those that had ran from him in the temple.

  Nothing mattered, except the power.

  A violent burst of energy washed over Vergail, and she woke. Her eyes stared upward, pure white. Energies crackled all over her, and she felt the sensation of them hugging and caressing her body. Some were mere tingles, almost sensuous; others were sharp stabs of pain, causing her eyes to water. At first her mind cried out in terror, for she did not know what was happening. She found she could not move anything except her eyes and mouth. Then, as the power coursed through her and from her, the vibrations and tingles caused her to smile in warmth and ecstasy. She let herself calm, and enjoy the sensations. Her mouth opened and she groaned softly as the magick aroused her.

  Another burst, and she could move her arms and legs. The energy was changing colour now, around her, waves of green, then blood crimson, then back to green again. With a gasp, her back arched, a wave of pure adrenaline hitting her, and her mind was no longer aware of her surroundings. She was in an euphoric, dream like state.

  Her robes ignited and fell away in ashes, leaving her naked, with the spiralling energies enveloping her more closely, with more intensity. Unbidden her nipples hardened as the scintillating power surged through her body. With a loud cry, Vergail sat up, her eyes staring beyond sight, into a realm she had never seen before, into sensations she had never felt before. Shuddering, her whole body convulsed in a rivulet of carnal need and sensuality.

  A grin played on her lips as she became aware of the power inside of her. She willed the energy around her to make her new robes to wear, and it started coalescing across her arms and stomach, and down to her legs. After several moments the energy dissipated leaving behind her new clothing: dark, black robes, velvet to the touch, sensuous and filled with potency.

  Vergail, high priestess of Untaba, was no more. In her stead stood a dark servant to Lorkayn, grinning impishly, seductively, in knowledge of her flesh and smooth skin. She turned, and walked towards Lorkayn, the crimson and green energies ebbing away, vanishing into the ether.

  Lorkayn smiled back at her, at his creation. With her power combined with his, he could leave this world, and travel back whence he came to have his vengeance. The gods of Mincalen, his land, would fall before him! They had not redeemed him, but only given him a doorway to return in the shape of the priestess they had so painstakingly led him to.

  The Slardinian tore his gaze away from the priestess, so beguiling and sultry in her new robes. A sound had alerted the lizard man, and he motioned to the edge of the temple Lorkayn had created. Looking across, Lorkayn had his first look at one of the ancient Ice Lords of Elrohen. Behind the blue skinned humanoid stood his legion of birdmen, too many to count. Beside them were several of the guild's mages, including Suralubus, who the sorcerer recognised as one of his earlier adversaries.

  This was an inconvenience. Lorkayn sorely wanted to leave this world, and all its petty life. Now he had the power to do so. His hands tightened into fists, and sparks of energy flicked between his fingertips. He looked long and deep at the Ice Lord, and could detect the power emanating from him. A blue skinned warlock, he surmised, no doubt the cause of his barrier's destruction. No matter, this was just another being to slay. Yet he did not want to waste valuable energy and time defeating these foes. The time was now. He must join with the priestess and not be interrupted.

  The lizard man was his answer. He looked at the snarling beast, not frightened at all by the number of enemies in front of him. If anything, the only thing the creature had feared was his magick, and that was well and good.

  Vergail arrived at his side, and she looked at the Ice Lord and his companions with casual interest, before turning her white, opaque eyes at Lorkayn. Reaching out, she grabbed hold of his manhood with no embarrassment, or even awareness of anyone watching. She licked her lips seductively in her dark desires.

  "Vergail!" cried out Suralubus in astonishment. He remembered the Ice Lords words earlier: she is no longer innocent. Her transformation shocked him more than anything else he had seen on this day. Where, oh where was her god? Where was Untaba, and why had he not helped his priestess?

  The Ice Lord did not speak, but merely pointed to the sorcerer. The birdmen moved forward, inching slowly, warily, towards their target.

  Lorkayn reached forward and touched the Slardinian on the head. Snarling, the lizard man glared up at him angrily. Lorkayn murmured some
thing under his breath, and pushed his hand down, inside the lizard man's head!

  Shocked, the creature stood still, transfixed to the spot. Smiling, Lorkayn withdrew his hand, which was covered in green blood. Looking up at the birdmen, the sorcerer spread his fingers, and flicked his wrist. The green blood spattered everywhere, droplets of it landing on the ground in front of him. He flicked again, and again, until there were hundreds of little droplets of blood covering the floor.

  In a harsh, guttural voice, the sorcerer growled words of sorcery. The Ice Lord motioned for his birdmen to stop their advance, a flicker of worry on his features, quickly gone. He watched as the green blood on the ground began to grow, upward, expanding, forming shapes. The Slardinian's eyes opened wide as he saw versions of himself, moulded out of his very blood, grow into being. Soon scales grew on each, followed by eyes, nose, mouth and teeth. Replicas of the Slardinian stood everywhere, breathing, living, and snarling!

  Lorkayn was satisfied. Let this blue skinned fool do battle with this army. He took Vergail by the hand, and walked backwards, towards the heart of his evil temple. Nothing was going to stop his chance. At full peak, his power was majestic and beautiful. He had not had to think or struggle to create the Slardinian army. Such a spell would have taken longer, and cost more energy, before he had imbued himself with the priestess' power. He felt strong, limitless, like the god Vergail had once served. With a roar of anger and brutality, the Slardinian army raced forward, attacking the horde of birdmen that rushed to surround and protect their leader, the Ice Lord. Vo'Loth did not appear shocked, or nervous. He merely watched as his fierce allies fought valiantly to protect him.