Avondale V (13 page)

Chapter 22

Tiberius

Ti lay in the dark, trying to slow his breathing. The muscles in his back were in full spasm, squeezing his chest so that every inhalation only seemed to cause him more pain. He knew if he could calm things down and breathe shallower, the cramping muscles might ease up a bit.

“Can you rub my back?” he managed to say through clenched teeth.

Lexi didn’t reply; she just started feeling him. In the darkness, even lying side by side, they couldn’t tell where the other was apart from touch. Lexi helped Tiberius roll over onto this stomach. The floor of the chamber was cold stone and smelled of dust, but he lay his face on it anyway. The cool stone felt good against his sweaty forehead and cheeks. Lexi massaged Ti’s back, and the pressure seemed to calm his cramping muscles. He couldn’t help but wince whenever she touched the raw strip down his back from the rope.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Rope burn,” he said. “But it’s the muscle I’m struggling with.”

She couldn’t feel the raw skin through his clothes, and of all the pain he was struggling with, the rope burns were the least of his worries. It took nearly half an hour before he felt like trying to sit up. He had to be careful not to hunch his back, no matter how tired he was, but he got situated in an upright position and summoned the light spell once again.

“
Fulsi
,” he whispered, immediately clamping down on the portal of light that opened beside him, so that it was little more than a pinprick of bright light floating in the air between Tiberius and Lexi.

They both blinked in the sudden light, rubbing their eyes and smiling in relief. The darkness of the dome was oppressive, and the light was a welcome sight. Lexi looked worried, but she never complained. Tiberius was constantly impressed by her strength and determination.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly. “I’m sorry I let you swing into the wall.”

“I’m fine, Ti,” Lexi said, her voice thick with concern. “You did the hard part. You didn’t drop me.”

“I would have died first,” he said with a smile.

“And your back?”

“It’s hurting, but I’ll live. Let’s figure out how to get the box open.”

They both turned their attention to the plain metal box that was sitting on the floor nearby. It was still slick with oil but otherwise seemed unharmed.

“It’s odd,” Tibeirus said. “I’ve never seen a box like it.”

“There are no handles,” Lexi said. “I had to get my hands under it to carry it up.”

“And no markings either,” Tiberius said. “I can't even see a seam. There’s no visible lid.”

“So is it some kind of puzzle box?” Lexi asked. “Maybe you have to do something to open it.”

Tiberius increased the light so that the entire room was visible and the box was easy to see. He picked it up, checking the bottom, which was exactly like the top and sides. The box was a perfect cube, with no visible seams or even forge marks. Tiberius had seen some of the greatest craftsmanship in Valana, but he’d never seen anything so perfectly forged. The box had weight, but it obviously wasn’t a solid block of metal.

“It has to have been magically made,” Tiberius said. “The stone must be inside, but there’s no way to open it.”

“Is it another part of the test?” Lexi asked.

Tiberius rapped on the box with his knuckles, but the metal was solid. He couldn’t imagine finding a way to break into the box without using magic. He’d used the basic light spell to find his way into the room and then the intermediate cyclone spell to retrieve the box. That left the three advanced spells of the Fourth Order: crucible, destruction, and sealing.

Of the advanced spells, Tiberius had only used the crucible spell, and then only to defeat the army of animated brass warriors sent to slaughter him and Rafe in Devonyr. That spell had been difficult, like trying change the course of a river using only his hands. Luckily, he had been in an abandoned city, with nothing to lose, when he set the powerful magic free. It had worked flawlessly on the brass warriors, and it seemed like the only sensible way to open the box to retrieve the Emerystone, but he wasn’t sure he could wield the powerful magic without destroying the contents of the box.

The destruction spell had been used during the cataclysm by wizards who couldn’t control the magic’s power. Tiberius had no idea how devastating that magic had been, but he’d grown up hearing tales of the horrible consequences. It was because of that reckless use of power that magic had been banned in the nine cities of Valana. Tiberius knew that magic was still used in the blighted lands, but the great powers from before the cataclysm had almost vanished forever, all because a few wizards pushed their craft too far.

The advanced spells of the Fourth Order were exponentially more difficult to wield than the one before. Tiberius had no idea if he would ever be able to master the destruction or sealing spells, but if he could possess the Emerystone, he wouldn’t have to. The ancient wizards had used the sealing spell to bind the powers of the most accomplished wizard of their day to the stone, allowing anyone who used it to tap into that great well of strength. Tiberius had felt the power and the evil of the Balestone. That magical stone was created using the Emerystone to seal the powers of another world into a gem that gave its user incredible power, but that power came at a terrible price. It had to be destroyed, and Tiberius could only do that by using the Emerystone. Otherwise, he risked causing another cataclysm, and that was his greatest fear. That the magic he loved so much and had risked his life and reputation to learn really would be as horrible as the stories he’d heard so often growing up.

“I think I know what I have to do,” Tiberius said. “But we can’t do it here.”

“Why not?” Lexi asked.

“I’m going to have to melt the box,” Tiberius said. “And there’s too much oil in this building. We should do it outside.”

“And away from the trees.”

“Maybe on the open path,” Tiberius suggested.

Getting to his feet was painful, and every step sent a throb of pain down his back and into his legs. The raw skin from where the rope had slid across his back and over his shoulder burned. But Tiberius heaved the metal box. It was about the same weight as a large melon and slick from the oil.

“I can carry it,” Lexi offered.

“I’ve got it,” Tiberius said. “But you can get our packs.”

She got both bags and slung one over each shoulder. The air in the dome-shaped building seemed even more dusty and old as they left. Tiberius wanted to walk out into the sunshine, but the exterior was just as dark as the interior. He had to dim the magical light to avoid attracting unwanted attention from the denizens of the forest. They walked back along the wide cobblestone path that was hidden by a the fine layer of dark soil. When Tiberius thought they were far enough away from the dome, he set the box down.

“Well,” he said, “I think this is far enough.”

“Is what you’re doing dangerous?”

“Working any magic of the Fourth Order is dangerous,” Tiberius said. “The magic is so strong it can be difficult to control. I’ve grown used to wielding the basic spells, but I’m about to use one of the most powerful. And our clothes have oil on them. It would be better if you stood back a bit.”

Lexi nodded and slipped farther down the path, then took shelter behind a large tree trunk. In the small amount of light Tiberius was allowing to shine, he could just see her face. The shadows made her features stand out in contrast to her light skin. Her short hair was disheveled, but her eyes were brimming with excitement. Even the dark, twisted forest couldn’t make her look anything but beautiful to Tiberius.

He turned his attention back to the box. The dull gray metal seemed to blend into the dark surroundings, but the oil shimmered, reflecting the magical light. Tiberius hoped he could keep the light spell open while he cast the crucible spell, but the amount of strength and concentration it would take to control the powerful magic might be too much.

“If the light goes out, don’t panic,” Tiberius said. “I’m not sure I can work both spells at the same time.”

“All right,” Lexi said. “Be careful. Don’t catch on fire.”

Tiberius raised his eyebrows as he realized he was just as likely to burst into flames as the box was. He knelt down several feet from the box, staying on his knees just in case he had to move away quickly. His back was still hurting, and he needed to neutralize the painful distraction as much as possible. He closed his eyes and waited several moments, letting his mind and emotions settle down before beginning the spell.

“
Conflo Fervefacio Aestifer
,” he chanted softly.

He knew the words by heart, having memorized them long ago in Avondale. He had soaked up the magical knowledge like a dry sponge, but he had uttered the words out loud only once before. He immediately felt the familiar swirl of magic and the portal forming that would unleash the deadly heat. The crucible spell was basically the same as the fire spell, only much more intense. The heat was no longer in the form of flames, but in an intense wave.

Tiberius allowed the portal to open just slightly, barely more than a pinhole, yet the heat from the spell was so hot he broke out into an immediate sweat. It was like stepping close to the blacksmith’s forge when the smithy was working the bellows. The wave of heat was directed away from Tiberius and toward the metal box, which instantly burst into flames. The oil that remained on the box flashed up, filling the path and the space between the trees with a bright orange light.

Anything combustible around the box immediately caught on fire, but it was mostly dirt, which seemed to turn to powdery ash and blow away in the wave of heat. Tiberius kept the flow of heat steady. The oil burned away quickly, and the top of the box began to glow.

Tiberius felt the mental strain almost immediately. Working powerful magic was taxing on his strength, and he was soon clenching his eyes shut and straining to keep the spell going. The light spell died, but the metal box was glowing so brightly it gave its own light to the dark forest. The first beads of metal began to roll down the edges of the box. Tiberius had to be careful, moving the wave of heat so that only the top of the box grew hot and melted. There was just enough force from the spell that Tiberius could blow the melted metal backward, away from the opening he was forming. A few white hot drops of molten metal dripped into the box, but for the most part, he was able to control how the box melted.

He pushed himself hard to melt the entire top of the metal container. He wanted to stop when the hole was big enough for his hand to reach through, but he kept working. He could have melted the entire box in a matter of seconds, but only by destroying it and anything it held inside.

When he finished, he fell backward. The metal was still glowing red but not giving off much light. The heat could still be felt, and Tiberius rolled away from the box, hoping he hadn’t damaged anything that lay inside. Lexi came out from behind the tree and hurried to Tiberius’ side.

“Have we got any water left?” he asked.

“A little,” Lexi said. “It has to last us until we reach the ship.”

Tiberius sipped the water, letting it soak into his parched mouth and throat. He wanted to guzzle as much of the cool water as he could hold, but he forced himself to only drink a few swallows. They still had a long journey back to the tunnel that led up to the war ship that would take them back to Avondale.

“Did you get the stone?” Lexi asked.

“No,” Tiberius said. “It’s too hot to touch anything in there.”

“But you saw it,” she asked.

For the first time since they had found the dome, Tiberius smiled. He had seen the stone. It was small, almost the size of a peach seed, and held in place by a pile of straw, which had turned to a fine ash inside the box. After an hour of rest, Tiberius went back to the metal container. He had recast his light spell, and the small orb of light was hovering just over the box, shining light down into the interior.

“It’s still hot,” Lexi said.

The metal had cooled a great deal and no longer glowed, but there was enough heat coming from the box that it felt like they were standing in front of an open oven. Tiberius emptied his pack and used the canvas to protect his hand. He reached in and carefully retrieved the object that lay inside the container. It was still warm, but not terribly hot. He held it up.

“Is that a diamond?” Lexi asked.

Tiberius grinned. “That,” he said happily, “is the Emerystone.”

Chapter 23

Rafe

From a distance, Rafe guessed the sight of the two sky ships moving slowly toward one another was inspiring. In truth, the tension on the Avondale ship was so thick that many of the men were sweating despite the cold wind. The captain had signaled to the king’s ship, asking for a conference. The war ships, as Rafe and Earl Ageus had hoped, held their positions. The king’s ship sailed forward alone, and the Avondale ship was forced to move forward into the range of the war ships’ deadly catapults. Until the two ships came together, the earl’s ship would be in danger. Still, the earl had ordered the captain to take his time. The wind was blowing out of the north, forcing both ships to manipulate their sails in order to catch and use the wind to propel them forward. After an awkward bit of sailing, the two massive ships finally came to a halt no more than forty feet apart.

The ships couldn’t ease together; their long masts protruding from either side made that impossible. Instead, the ships swung around so that their sterns were as close as the massive balloon sails that kept them aloft would allow. Ropes from each ship were tossed to the other and tied so that they didn’t drift apart.

“We have to be ready to sail,” the earl told the captain in a quiet voice. “And we might be a target, so be ready.”

“Aye, my lord,” the captain said.

Rafe thought the sailor looked confident, but he couldn’t be sure that they would survive if the king’s war ships launched fire bombs their way. The balloon sail was a huge target, and even a glancing blow could set the canvas on fire and send them plummeting thousands of feet to the ground. He couldn’t help but wish once more that Tiberius was with them. His friend would give them a degree of security no one else in the entire kingdom could supply.

“Let’s begin,” the earl said.

Earl Ageus was flanked by four guards as he moved to the railing at the rear of the ship. Rafe accompanied him, as well, carrying a large shield. If the king had treachery in mind, Rafe’s job would be to place himself and the shield between the earl and any danger. Rafe had placed archers with fire arrows in the earl’s stateroom. One command would send them running out with their arrows lit from braziers to fire at the king’s ship. It would be a last-ditch effort to take the king out if something happened to their own vessel, and the thought of that made Rafe’s stomach twist furiously.

He hated the thought of being attacked with no way to strike back. And even though the archers presented a very real threat, Rafe knew that Queen Ariel was some type of sorceress. She could use the same spells to deflect his arrows that Tiberius had used to save the sky ship from Hamill Keep when it was under attack.

Magic was at work in the world, and it had little regard for the lives of men. In many ways it was like a sickness, working its way through the entire realm, and Rafe fully believed that only Tiberius could stamp it out. He didn’t fear magic the way he had been taught, the way he had before Tiberius’ healing magic had saved his life. But he didn’t like having to plan for something he knew he couldn’t predict. The queen—and whatever evil magic she was dabbling in—could have powers beyond his imagination. Rafe only hoped that he could get his feet back on solid ground before he had to face that threat.

Leonosis made his father wait. The more powerful individual always had the right to arrive later than his subject, but the wait was overly long. Rafe would have been angered, but every moment the king delayed played into their plan. The earl’s war band might not be strong enough to defeat the king’s army outright, but Olyva would get as many people from the city as she could. Even if Avondale was completely destroyed, there would be a remnant of survivors left to rebuild it.

Finally the king arrived. He was dressed in the finest clothes and surrounded by a dozen men, as well as his wife, but nothing could hide the fact that Leonosis looked horrible. His hair was falling out, leaving bald patches around his golden crown, his body so thin that he looked like a starving man. His belly was distended, while his chest, shoulders, and arms were little more than skin and bones. The billowing silk garments couldn’t hide the weakness of the king’s body, yet he stood straight and strode toward the stern railing with confidence.

Rafe heard the earl’s sharp intake of breath at the sight of his son, but he didn’t speak. His face was frozen in a frown meant to reflect his concern for Avondale. Rafe did his best not to let his own horror show, but it was difficult. The queen looked less than healthy herself. When she’d come to Avondale only a few months before, she had been beautiful and vivacious; now she looked tired. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her skin seemed pale. She stood just behind and to one side of Leonosis, who, despite his own appearance, seemed fearless.

“Father, how good of you to welcome me,” Leonosis said. His voice was loud and carried across from one sky ship to the other seemingly without effort.

“I would welcome you,” Earl Ageus said, “but not a fleet of war ships.”

“Ah, it is my power that you fear.”

“I don’t fear you, son. You may be king now, but I will always be your father.”

Leonosis laughed. Rafe had heard Tiberius’ eldest brother laugh many times. He had been cruel when they were children, and often irreverent, but now his laughter seemed more maniacal than before. He felt the earl stiffen slightly beside him, even though there was no motion to his body, just a tensing of the muscles that were already on edge.

“Let us dispense with the jockeying for position,” Leonosis said, once his laughter had subsided. “I care very little how you see me, father. Your eyesight is old and dim. I’m here for Tiberius.”

“Your brother?” the earl said in mock surprise. “He is not here—you banished him.”

“Do not play games with me, Father.” Leonosis said the last word with such derision that Rafe shuddered involuntarily. “He is in Avondale, and you are protecting him.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about and I protest you coming here with your army in tow. Perhaps I spoiled your plans by not dying, as you and your brother Brutas wished. Is that what this is about? You promised Brutas my place, but my recovery has foiled your plans.”

“I do not care about Brutas,” Leonosis said coldly.

“No, you care only for yourself, but your plan to replace me was against our laws, and even kings are bound by the laws of Valana. You cannot remove me as earl without a council of earls. That fact remains, no matter what other treachery you have in mind.”

“Old man,” Leonosis said, “your dithering bores me. I care nothing for who sits on the throne of Avondale. I only want Tiberius and all his possessions.”

“He is my son,” Earl Ageus bellowed. “I will not give him to you.”

“I am king,” Leonosis said menacingly.

“What crime has he committed?” Ageus shouted. “Why is your brother of such importance to you now? You cared nothing for him when you were younger.”

“Nor did you, Father,” Leonosis said. “But we are children no longer. I am a man and your sovereign king. You will give him to me, or I will take him by force.”

“Tiberius has been given sanctuary in Avondale,” the earl said.

“I can see that you are harboring all sorts of unwanted riffraff these days. Is that not Rafe Grentzson by your side? He was banished from Avondale, along with the whore from Hamill Keep. What is more—he is wanted for the murder of Earl Marcus, as well. Yet I will grant him and his lover amnesty in exchange for Tiberius.”

“You are a cruel man,” Earl Ageus said. “Rafe served me when your brother tried to have me killed. His father gave his life for me.”

“You are stalling,” Leonosis said.

“Fine, I will give you what you ask, but let me bring him to you. I do not want the greatest city in Valana surrounded by your ghastly ships of war.”

“See that you bring him quickly,” Leonosis threatened. “And all that he possesses. Or else my ships of war will descend on your city like carrion birds feasting on the dead.”

The threat was clear, and Rafe’s fury boiled within him, but he didn’t move. He couldn’t reach Leonosis at any rate and he knew that the entire war band would be looking to him soon. He needed to set an example of discipline in the face of almost certain death, not foolish anger over insults and posturing.

“It is late,” the earl said. “I will bring him to you tomorrow.”

For the first time, a look of uncertainty crossed Leonosis’ face. Rafe wanted to cheer, not because they had scored a perceived victory, but because their adversary had shown weakness. It was nothing more than a seam in Leonosis’ armor, but Rafe knew that if there was one weakness, there would be others. Whatever was happening with Leonosis, Rafe was confident that Tiberius could defeat him.

“If you are not sailing by first light,” Leonosis threatened, “I will take your city from you. If you resist, I shall destroy everything you love.”

He raised his hand in a dismissive gesture and turned away. It was a common sight, one person ending a conversation as if they were too busy or important to be bothered any longer. Rafe started to relax, but then he saw the ropes that bound the two ships together burst into flames. The fire started in the center of the ropes, between both ships, and his eyes grew wide as the thick ropes were parted in seconds. Rafe doubted that a strong man with an axe could have cut them any faster.

Queen Ariel had waited until after Leonosis stalked away, watching their reaction. Rafe heard her cackling gleefully at the look of surprise and fear on the faces of the men at the stern of the ship.

“Let’s go!” the earl barked, but his face seemed pale to Rafe.

They followed the earl back around his stateroom and up the massive staircase that led to the command deck. The earl waved at the captain, who began barking orders to the sailors, who jogged out onto the thick masts and shimmied across the rigging like human spiders, releasing the sails and moving the ship slowly back toward Avondale.

“Well,” Earl Ageus said quietly to Rafe, “we have one night to prepare. Let us hope it is enough.”

“And that Tiberius is almost home,” Rafe added.