The Black Ankh
Duel
of Fates, Cont'd
by Laura Campbell, aka Shadow of Light Dragon
To say I felt horrible would have been an understatement. When I appeared again at the Shrine of Compassion, I wanted to scream. I wanted to smash something to pieces and just let all my anger out on something where there was no one to witness it. How could I, how could we, have been so duped by this pretender? What had happened to the real Shamino? Dead? Imprisoned?
I paced around the Shrine for a time, waiting for my blood to cool from a boil to a simmer, but the sight of Iolo's blood on the altar just fired me up again.
Virtues… how I want to make her bleed for all this. But that kind of vengeance will never be mine…
At times like these, being 'the good guy' really, really sucked.
I struck out west towards Britain, cloaking myself with an Invisibility spell in case I ran across any patrols. The quiet of the night gradually calmed my anger, but at best I settled into a moody sort of depression. The earth beneath my feet was uneasy.
How in the Abyss are we going to get out of this mess..?
I'm running out of ideas. I'm running out of friends.
And I'm so tired of it all…The walls of Britain were in sight when I ran into my first patrol. Ten soldiers, and a cursory scan revealed one of them to be a daemon. I hesitated as they approached, staying to one side of the road so none of them could accidentally walk into me. I knew the Atarkans hated daemons. None of them knew the Guardian had daemons walking in their ranks, serving as officers and messengers…
With a small smile, I ripped away the daemon's illusion of humanity.
It didn't notice at once. The soldiers around it blurted in surprise and shock. Some stumbled as seven foot, horned and winged hellspawn with red skin and burning eyes suddenly appeared in their midst. Swords were torn from scabbards and axes from belts as the daemon stared around, quite unaware of how this had happened. It didn't even have a chance to defend itself.
I turned my back on the scorch mark now decorating the road and continued west, turning thoughts and ideas over in my mind…It was a simple matter to enter Britain unseen, made even easier by distracting those on watch by unmasking every single daemon I saw. This was how I managed to slip into the sewers undetected; soldiers were too busy dealing with daemons to notice the opening and closing of the underground entrance I selected.
Invisibility, however, couldn't do a thing about the splashing I made in the sewer water, when I was forced to step in it. Nor the footprints in the green sludge. I picked my way carefully, relieved when the muck of the sewers gave way to firmer ground near the heavy metal doors that opened into Castle Britannia. It was unexpectedly free of enemy guards, but I didn't waste time to count my blessings. Balling my fist, I banged on the door and winced at the echoes it produced.
"Who goes?" a muffled voice on the other side said.
"Elora!" I called back, as loudly as I dared. "The Avatar!"
"Pull the other one! What's the password?"
"I don't know the password! Canst thou not get Geoffrey to verify who I am?"
There was a conversation on the other side of the door and I thought I heard footsteps retreating.
"If I have to wait out here much longer I might get caught," I called after a while, keeping an eye on the passage behind me. "Is Geoffrey there yet?"
"He's here," a familiar voice said from the other side. "Canst thou prove who thou art?"
"I appreciate your caution and everything, but it will be very hard to do that if you won't open the door."
"We're not that stupid." Then I heard him say to the guards to keep the doors closed.
I suppressed a sudden urge to blow the door off its hinges. "I'll just find one of the other secret doors then!" I shouted, not a little annoyed.
There was a sudden commotion on the other side of the door. I could make out Nystul, slightly breathless, saying to let me in. Geoffrey's response was that to do so would endanger everyone. Then the two started arguing about who was the more senior in rank. Geoffrey would win, I knew, but rank wouldn't help against someone who could float him to the roof and make him stick there. It eventually dawned on me, as the argument dissolved into name-calling ("Rust bucket!" "Garlic breath!"), that I could open the door myself. I'd forgotten I could cast spells in the Castle since the dome had collapsed.
The lock clicked with a thought, then I stepped back a little and opened the door telekinetically to allow the two guards and Geoffrey to charge through the opening without skewering me. Even Nystul, startled and dressed in his nightclothes, had a spell ready to throw.
I'd also forgotten I had no weapons. I'd left the Juggernaught Hammer back with the others, and hadn't thought to pick up a new sword. Rolling my eyes, I held out my arms and crossed them at the wrist.
"Now dost thou believe me?" Nystul demanded of Geoffrey.
Geoffrey looked at my bracer, then my Ankh, then my eyes. "Come in, Elora."
The guards drew aside and followed me over the threshold, pulling the door to with a metallic boom. Geoffrey told the two to continue the watch, then led me and Nystul down the passage and into the better-lit training room. Even at this hour a couple of off-duty guards were practising swordplay with each other, but they stopped when we entered and whispered to each other at the sight of me.
"Hath the time come for us to join thine army, Avatar?" a short man with red hair asked.
Nystul whispered to me, "Since I felt thy return I've kept everyone abreast of thy movements."
I nodded to the old mage, my thoughts racing. "Geoffrey? How many people are still here in the castle?"
"There are more than a hundred of us," Geoffrey told me. "Thirty of those are the royal guard." He spoke of the most elite warriors ever to step out of training from both Jhelom and Serpent'sHold—some even from the Lycaeum—trained in all kinds of weaponry and on all kinds of terrain, hand-picked for their loyalty and prowess to serve as Lord British's personal guard. "We do not want to be cooling our heels for the war's entire duration," Geoffrey added, and there was a murmur of agreement from the guards.
"No," I agreed, studying the general's haggard face and the unfamiliar light in his eyes. For his ears only, I said, "You want revenge."
"No more than thou dost."
I shook my head, denying his words, denying my own thoughts, I didn't know. "I'm going to Resurrect him," I said, and they all knew of whom I spoke. "I know where he is, and we'll be able to do it soon. First, though, we need the magic protection of our king's Crown. That's why I'm here."
"Where wert thou when he was killed?" a warrior asked in a hard voice.
A ringing silence fell, like what you get right after a clap of thunder. Every eye was on me, though Geoffrey had given the speaker a frown at the question. I failed him, I couldn't help thinking. I wasn't there, and she killed him.
"That's not important right now," Geoffrey said firmly. "Get back to training." He faced me. "Nystul and I will take thee to where the Crown is."
"Where's that?" I asked once we'd left the room.
"Canst thou not guess?"
I glanced sidelong at his telling smile and felt an involuntary grin touch my own lips. "He really needs to get a new hiding place set up."
Lord British's chamber, though unlived in, had been kept meticulously clear of dust by the servants. Or the Domestic Staff, or whatever it was they wanted to be called. I seated myself at the harpsichord and ran my fingers lightly over the keys, my thoughts abruptly far away. I didn't own such an instrument back home on Earth, though I did have a small keyboard. How often had I played Stones in the hope that its simple tune could somehow open a moongate to take me back to Britannia? How often had I played it and just imagined I was elsewhere..?
I sighed, then, aware the two men were watching, played the first thirteen notes of Stones. With the last note still hanging in the air, a secret section of wall opened outwards.
"Remarkable," Nystul said, eyeing the opening with curiosity. "I know the Castle has many secret passages, but this one I was unaware of!"
"Keep it under thy nightcap," Geoffrey said. "I'm sure our lord prefers to keep this one secret."
The 'passage' was more like a depression. There was room enough for a couple of people to squeeze in, and this was mostly taken up by the few things Lord British had stowed in there. There was his sceptre, which had the power to dispel any magical fields. There, his Sandalwood Box, in which he kept a now-useless Orb of the Moons. Atop this rested his golden Crown, which, when worn, would protect the wearer and the wearer's party against all hostile magic.
At least, I thought as I picked it up, that's the theory. It could be that the Crown prevented all enemies within range from casting spells, rendering it almost as useless as an Anti-magic spell. Carrying the Crown out into the main chamber, I hoped this was not the case.
I must be mad thinking this will protect us…
Geoffrey pushed the secret compartment closed and the three of us looked at each other.
"Nystul," I said after a moment. "How much do you know about the spell called Armageddon—besides the fact no one's ever been stupid enough to cast it?"
The mage scratched at his dishevelled beard. "Mostly just what the incantation itself doth tell us. The spell seemeth designed not only to wipe out all life on and in a world, but also to disrupt the very flow of time and ether. Why dost thou ask?" He looked concerned. "Is Mellorin going to cast it?"
"No, it's—" I stopped and blinked. Mellorin knew the spell. She'd known it as long as I had, and that was a long time ago. She could cast it any time she wanted… she didn't need a daemon and a crown to do it for her...
Was my double so unreliable in the Guardian's eyes that he had this as a backup plan?
Was the daemon even working for anyone? With something as powerful as the Crown of the Liche King in its claws…
So many questions. And no answers.
"It's a long story," I finished. I glanced at Geoffrey, then at Nystul's sleeping attire. "You'd better get dressed. Unless you want to stay here when the rest of us leave, that is."
Geoffrey's eyes lit up. "I'll see that everyone's woken and gathered in the throne room. The guards will sweep the Castle a few times to ensure no one gets left behind."
I followed the two out of Richard's room and closed the door. As they went their separate ways, I headed up to the battlements for a good view of any enemy patrols passing by.
I intended to unmask a few more daemons before we departed.
And maybe get a sword from the armoury, too.The arrival of the Britannians at the camp in the Deep Forest, when the sun was just starting to rise, caused some celebration amongst the few Britannians that were there. I understood that they'd been feeling a little outnumbered and overwhelmed by the outworlders, so an extra hundred or so from Castle Britannia raised their spirits greatly. After a short reunion with Julia and Katrina, and an explanation about drakelings (he already knew about tril'khai), Geoffrey went at once to confer with Lord Draxinusom about the status of the army. Nystul was meanwhile eyeing the outworld mages at a distance, his eyes afire with curiosity.
"Why don't you go talk to them?" I suggested, grinning.
"Oh, I will, Avatar," he assured me. "But before I do, tell me about thy earlier query. Why didst thou ask about Armageddon?"
"I need to know if there's any way to protect against the spell, short of preventing it being cast in the first place." I lowered my voice and told him about the daemon and the Crown of the Liche King. Nystul's face grew more and more sombre as the story progressed.
"Of this crown I know nothing," he admitted. "And of that one…" he indicated Lord British's Crown, which I held in one hand. "It may protect a few from the ravages of Armageddon. Or it may just protect one. It will certainly not protect the entire world, Avatar…"
"I know. I mean, I didn't think it would." I sighed. "We need more."
"Well," Nystul raised his white brows. "Thou couldst try seeking an answer at the Lycaeum. 'Tis only the greatest collection of magical knowledge Britannia hath to offer." He grinned behind his beard and headed off towards the outworld mages, leaving me wondering why I hadn't thought of that myself.
"Thou knowest," Julia remarked from nearby, "that's a good idea."
"I was just thinking the same thing."
"Thou couldst also consider Serpent's Hold. I'm sure the knights there would join us."
"We don't really need extra swords at this point," I said.
"Nay? How many surround the Lycaeum? How many do we have?"
"I think we number one and a half thousand, give or take a few. As for the Lycaeum, are you suggesting we all go there?"
The tinker grinned. "Why not? If thou'rt intending to do some study, thou couldst be there a while. The Lycaeum may be an oversized library, but 'tis also a fortified keep. Not only would we all be safer there than here in the open, there might be things like… oh… stores of food? And reagents?"
"Oh." I frowned. "How short are we?"
"Not drastically, but we're not prepared to wait here for a month, let alone a week or two. Pretty soon the reagents will be wasted on creating food and water, then the mages will be useless for certain spells—including healing." Julia looked off into the camp. "So if we're going to fight our way to the keep, the knights might be useful."
"Granted." I sat down near the fire. "I don't know where we're even going anymore, Julia. I feel like everything's flapping loose."
"Thou'rt used to making things happen," Julia said. "Perhaps it's a shock to have things continually happen to thee?"
I shrugged. "Perhaps. Has Iolo woken up?"
"He's still sleeping. When do we plan to move out?"
"We're still waiting for Kra'lysie to turn up, aren't we?" Not to mention Lord British, I thought to myself.
At that moment, there was the sound of huge wings beating the air above the forest. The canopy trembled with the force of it… too strong to belong to a single dragon. I exchanged a glance with Julia, then we were both walking swiftly to the northern edge of the trees, sweeping up Katrina and various others in our wake. In the open sky we could see Kra'lysie circling on a wingtip, looking for a good place to land. With her were several other, smaller, Britannian dragons.
As soon as the red and gold Kra'lysie landed, she looked straight at me and grinned broadly. "No 'welcome back'?"
"Where have you been?" I asked.
"What does it look like?" She tossed her golden crest and turned her gaze skywards as the other dragons hovered around her, choosing their landing sites. "I've been recruiting for your army, Avatar."
-TBC-
