Light & Dark: The Awakening of the Mageknight (47 page)

"Be silent, Squire," encouraged Alamber for
the second time, as he scanned the immediate area.

Danny held his tongue.

"We are in grave danger," returning his
attention back to Danny, once again sure that they were alone. "I
must go to the King of the Light to present a warning, and you must
get to a safer place. You must go now, go back to the first-year
barracks, as quickly as you can." Releasing Danny, Alamber turned
back the way he'd come. "Go, now!" he yelled, looking back for the
briefest of seconds.

Danny hesitated. "Wait!" he yelled. "What did
you discover in Elsmelda?"

Alamber stopped dead in his tracks; he took a
deep breath before turning back toward Danny. "The orb you found in
Syndil's possession was an ancient artifact used to communicate
directly with the Shadow world. We have been betrayed, Danny and
Syndil is the betrayer."

"Are you sure?"

"Books do not lie, Danny."

"But Sir Syndil has always been interested in
researching Shadows, perhaps he was just examining it."

Alamber shook his head to indicate the
opposite. "When you found it, the orb had been used shortly before.
I know this because of your description of it. The swirling shades
that you described within told me as much. If Syndil hadn't used
the device just prior to finding it, the sphere would have appeared
completely clear."

Danny shook his head, unable to believe what
he was hearing. Sir Syndil had trained him and helped him to
improve to a level that he would've never reached without him.

"Why do you defend him so, Danny?"

"I've trained with him individually ever
since I arrived here. He helped me."

"He used you. If you are the Mageknight, you
will be the sole contributor to the downfall of the Dark. It is
written. It would only make sense that he focus his efforts on you
if he is conspiring with the Shadows."

Danny suddenly found himself struggling to
breathe. He'd never realized that Sir Syndil's betrayal could go so
deep.

A distant roaring announced that the final
duel between Dragon Army and Lion Army had begun.

"Of course," said Alamber, turning his
attention in the direction of the Great Dome, "the duel for the
Chalice of Light. Everyone's attention will be focused on the
duel." Alamber looked back toward Danny. "It is the perfect time
for him to strike. Listen, we are all in grave danger, but you are
perhaps in the most danger, Danny. Being the likely candidate to
become the Mageknight, Syndil will probably target you."

"But Sir Syndil…"

"Stop calling him Sir. Syndil is no longer a
Knight of the Light and should not be addressed by that honor. He
has betrayed us all and he must be punished accordingly."

Before Danny could respond, a rapid clang of
bells pierced the silence, the rhythm much faster than the usual
canter of chimes that announced the hours of the day.

"What's that?" Danny asked, confused, the
chime of the sixteenth bell had rung only minutes ago.

"We are undone… I am too late," said Alamber,
his one good eye lost to the distance of the twin bell towers.

"What's happening?" Danny asked, raising his
voice in an attempt to speak over the continuing clanging of the
bells.

"That signal means that the island is under
attack. Syndil has made his move."

"What should we do?"

Alamber swiveled back toward Danny. "…We? We
will do nothing, Squire. I must see the king now and you will
return to the first-year barracks until you are instructed
otherwise. Is that clear?"

Danny hesitated.

"Is that clear, Squire?"

"Yes," Danny said, reluctantly.

"Promise me that you will do as you are
ordered."

"I promise," Danny lied, yet again.

"Now go." With that, Alamber turned and
disappeared around the corner in a dash.

Moving in the opposite direction, Danny
picked up his step; the ringing of the alarm coincided with the
increasing beat of his heart.

Now where to?
he thought as he exited
the alley between two large brick buildings.

Suddenly he heard, a loud bang that mimicked
a thunderclap, it was coming from somewhere to his left, it shook
the ground beneath his feet. Seconds later, a billowing plume of
black smoke swirled into the air, marking the location of the
carnage, it was near the middle of the island.

Without another thought, Danny picked up the
pace. Over the past few months, his training had prepared him for
just this situation, or so he thought. His legs moved at a steady
tempo. With his right hand on the hilt of his sword, he navigated
the twisting turns of the city. However, nothing could've prepared
him for what he would come across as he turned the corner.

He stopped dead in his tracks. Not three feet
from him, a short, robust Dwarf lay, face-down and still, his fiery
red hair in a tangled mess and his steel plate armor soiled with a
mixture of dirt and blood.

Kneeling down, Danny grunted as he eased the
old Dwarf onto his back, revealing a pair of blue eyes that looked
weakly up at him. Danny recognized the Dwarf, it was Sir Bartlett
Firebeard, Master of the Forge.

"Me… Bonded, lad," groaned the
Forgemaster.

Danny scanned the area, he noticed the red
glint of a hammer head indented halfway into the nearby stone.
Leaving the Dwarf's side, he put both hands upon the handle but he
pulled back as the flesh of his hands began to burn from the
surprise heat that the silver pommel radiated.

Sir Bartlett allowed himself a low rumbling
chuckle that turned into a fit of coughing. "'Tis hot, lad… use the
sleeves of ya robes," he managed to say in between fits of
pain.

Danny wrapped the thick fabric of his robes
around his hands. Gripping the heft of the hammer a second time, he
could still feel the heat emanating from beneath the covering.
Giving it a quick tug, he discovered that the hammer was wedged
deeper into the stone than he'd first anticipated.

"What happened?" he asked, bracing his foot
against the rock, forcing the hammer free.

"'…Twas Syndil, dat snake. Joined da Dark, he
has," managed Sir Bartlett as he struggled to prop himself up on
his elbows and scoot his back toward the wall of the nearby
building.

Danny grunted, the hammer proved heavier than
he'd thought possible. Grunting again, he hauled it to his shoulder
and carried it to Sir Bartlett as he lay slumped against the
stone.

"Give er here, lad," croaked the Dwarf.

Danny hesitated for a moment, wondering if
the Dwarf could handle such a heavy object in his condition.

"Here," ordered Sir Bartlett again, raising
his right hand to receive his Bonded.

Figuring he had little choice, Danny lowered
the hammer to its master.

The Forgemaster took the hammer bare-handed,
the heat of the handle was apparently of no consequence. Wielding
the weighty weapon as he would a common twig, Sir Bartlett spun the
hammer downward. The glowing red steel met the stone of the road,
causing a series of scarlet sparks. Putting his weight upon the
handle, he propped himself up and made ready to stand.

"I owe ya an apology, lad."

"Just . . . take it easy," said Danny,
slipping a helping hand beneath the old Dwarf's arm to help him
up.

"I could na stop him!" Sir Bartlett said,
slamming his hammer into the stone for emphasis. The head of the
hammer burned with a sudden burst of crimson light, as if the
weapon itself reflected the Forgemaster's innermost feelings.

"You did your best, now just try not to move
so much," comforted Danny, concerned, a few of the Dwarf's wounds
had opened up and were beginning to bleed anew.

"No, lad, ya do na understand," said Sir
Bartlett, shaking his head. "Da ya remember when I told ya that ya
name sounded familiar?"

Danny nodded in an attempt to keep the Dwarf
from expending too much energy.

"On dis here day, I just remembered, Syndil
has stolen da Bonded dat contains da soul of ya fatha and I allowed
him ta take it."

"What're you saying?"

"Ya be Lightborn, lad. Ya fatha was a Knight
o da Light."

"No," said Danny, confused as he stepped
back. "My father was a soldier in the military. He died over seas,
he was a hero."

Sir Bartlett braced himself against the
stone. "Aye, lad, a hero and a soldier, but a knight he was
too."

"Why would he have kept this from me?"

"Ta protect ya, lad."

"Sabrina told me what a Bonded was. It
contains the essence of the knight placed within it. So, my father
is still alive."

In the distance, a loud boom drew the knight
and the squire's attention. Danny realized that the sound seemed
much louder and closer than the first time.

"Father," whispered Danny, taking a series of
steps toward the noise of battle.

"No, Squire Firoth, it does na work dat way.
Ya father is gone, lad. Whatever remains in da shell of a Bonded
isn't what it was before. It'll be ya fatha's energy sure enough,
but it will not a be him."

"It doesn't matter," said Danny, his eyes
remaining focused on the distant plume of black smoke. "I have to
save him."

"Ya are no match fa Syndil, lad. Ya be but a
squire. Let the Knights o da Light handle dis."

"No," said Danny, turning, he eyed Sir
Bartlett with a new-found confidence. "I'm more than just a squire.
I'm the Mageknight." He turned away from the bewildered Dwarf and
disappeared around the corner, intending to put right what Syndil
had wronged.

back to top

anny bolted to the left at a dead sprint, eyeing
the ever-growing cloud of sooty smoke. He was getting closer.
Turning the corner, he found himself at the center of the island,
the Pool of the Mageknight was in front of him; a sickening circle
of fallen knights surrounding it. Above him, the black cloud
drifted endlessly upward. Danny traced it to the source, one of the
four high towers that surrounded the pool was now little more than
a pile of rubble. An unexpected cry of pain drew his attention to
the right where a strange group of individuals surrounded what
looked like the last living Knight of the Light.

Syndil stood in front of the knight, Danny
was sure of it. Although he couldn't see his face, he recognized
the silver Bonded leveled at the Knight of the Light's throat, as
well as the Elf's, long, black hair, unkempt and drifting in the
breeze. Syndil sported an intricate suit of silver armor, inlaid
with shining blue veins of an unknown material that seemed to glow
despite the waning sunlight. Three dark figure stood behind the
captive knight, Danny failed to recognize them. Their skin was
pitch-black, as if covered in soot, their eyes sparkled like
sapphires, but without pupils and devoid of emotion. They wore no
obvious form of armor, only robes of dark fabric.

"Gran Shadows," Danny whispered. He realized
he shouldn't have said anything when Syndil's ear twitched in
response and the three Shadows twisted their attention in his
direction. They had all heard him.

Paying him no heed, Syndil flicked his wrist,
angling his Bonded in a quick horizontal swipe.

The knight, his once-shiny armor battered and
soiled with dust and blood, gripped his throat and dropped to his
knees.

"No!" Danny yelled, taking three steps
forward, but stopping as one of the three Shadows began to
advance.

"No," ordered Syndil, stopping the Shadow
mid-step, his back still turned. With a second flick of the wrist,
he flung the small accumulation of crimson from the blade of his
Bonded, leaving the brand unstained and shining. Sheathing his
sword, he spun on his heel and greeted Danny with a sweeping smile.
"Good morning, Squire Firoth," he said, as if they were meeting
under normal circumstances.

"How could you!" Danny freed the sword at his
side with a resounding ring of metal.

Sensing the threat in Danny's tone of voice,
as well as his actions, the nearest Shadow advanced, only to be
stopped by Syndil's outstretched hand. The Shadow produced a subtle
hiss, apparently it had never been ordered in such a manner.

"You'd have done well to stay clear,
Mageknight. My ability to control these Grans is somewhat limited,
I must say that they seek your destruction most of all." With a
mere look, Syndil forced the closest Shadow to retreat.

In that split-second, Danny noticed a
white-hilted sword in Syndil's opposite hand, the most interesting
feature was a silver band at the tip of the handle with an
intricately carved eagle, wings outstretched and beak down as if to
begin a dive. Memories of his father flooded his mind; he'd seen
that very ring on the middle finger of his father's right hand as
it passed by his face time and again.