Questing Sucks! Book II (41 page)

Then a thought occurred to him.
I still have one spell I can use
.

Since all else had failed, this was now his only option. It was something he’d almost forgotten about, but perhaps it would prove to be more useful than the rest of his magic had. If this didn’t work, if for any reason it failed, then Sehn promised himself he would personally run up to the Archmage and beat him down with his fists. And if
that
didn’t work, he would bite the bastard, though he hoped things didn’t come to that, because being that he smelled as badly as he did, Sehn could only imagine what he tasted like.

I hope this works
.
If not
,
I’m out of ideas
.

Once again, Sehn extended his hand while Archmage Duncan continued to remain in place. “What’s this?” the wretched man asked. “Still playing games? I am growing tired of this, Sehn. If you won’t be made to see reason, then I will have to resort to other means. But mark my words: I will not waste any more time watching your sad attempts to perform magic. This will be your final chance to entertain me.”

“Just you wait, mortal. Prepare yourself! The Great Sehn has been angered!”

Sehn took a breath. With a rage so intense that it caused his fingers to shake, he opened his mouth to shout his spell.

“Sehn!” cried a voice. “No! Stop!”

Cah’lia wasn’t sure what had taken place over the last few minutes, but whatever had happened, it had really pissed Sehn off. She didn’t think she’d ever seen him this angry—not even that one time a coconut had fallen off a tree and had landed on the top of his head. Cah’lia could still remember how Sehn had tried to enforce a global ban on the fruit. He’d even drawn up an official declaration of war and had Nero pin it to the tallest coconut tree.

This is even worse than that time
,
Cah’lia thought.
Something must have really upset him
.

He was standing slightly more than a dozen feet across from a horribly disfigured man; his hand was extended as though he were about to cast a spell.

“Tell him to stop!” Orellia cried. “Kellar, do something!”

Kellar scratched his hair. “I’m not gonna be able to stop him in time. What do you think I’m gonna be able to do that you can’t?”

After Cah’lia and Sehn had parted ways, she’d rushed to find the others and bring them here. It seemed as if she’d returned just in time—and with plenty of backup. Aside from herself, Mistress Orellia, Shina, Kellar, Patrick, and the Champion, an entire division of armed Kingdom soldiers had followed along. More than a hundred men clogged the streets, many demanding to know where their brothers in arms were—the men who were supposed to be stationed here. Despite not seeing any bodies, Cah’lia assumed they’d all been killed.

“Master is…very angry,” the Champion whispered. He stayed close to Cah’lia, as though he’d taken it upon himself to be her own personal bodyguard.

“Is that Archmage Duncan?” Patrick asked.

“I don’t know,” Kellar said. “But whoever he is, I can smell him from here. If it is Duncan, he looks even worse than he did the last time I saw him. I don’t recognize him now.”

Cah’lia watched as Patrick drew his sword, and all one hundred of his men followed along, doing the same. The sound of their blades sliding out of their scabbards sent chills into Cah’lia’s body. Something felt wrong here, but she wasn’t sure what.

“Sehn!” Mistress Orellia called again. “Do not even think of doing what you’re about to do!”

“What’s he about to do?” Patrick asked, breathing heavily. They had all run at a grueling pace to make it here in time. “Will someone”—he paused to gasp for breath—“will someone please tell me what’s going on?”

“Sehn’s about to destroy your city,” Orellia said.

“He’s—he’s what!” Patrick exclaimed. “But why? Hell, I don’t even care why.” He cupped his hands over his mouth. “Sehn!” he called, using his hand to amplify his voice. “Don’t do whatever it is you’re thinking about doing! Please!”

Cah’lia removed her dagger and charged forward. She wasn’t sure exactly why Mistress Orellia was so alarmed, but she wasn’t going to wait around to find out, either. Sehn was fighting the monster that had taken the children, and she wouldn’t allow him to fight alone.

And that was when everything changed. She only managed to make it halfway to his side when it happened. First, she heard words, but they were not Sehn’s: they belonged to the Archmage. “No more games,” she heard him say.

Archmage Duncan was beyond grotesque. The thought of how much he must have terrified the children overpowered any fear Cah’lia might have felt at the sight of him. Nero was her little brother, and while this man might have been a monster, she could be a demon if needed to protect him.

As she struggled to make her way to Sehn, she stopped short as the Archmage raised his staff and began to chant something. She wasn’t sure how she knew, but she had the sense she would die if she came any closer. This brief hesitation saved her life.

She didn’t know what the Archmage was chanting, but whatever it was, he didn’t get the chance to finish, as Sehn finished whatever he was doing first. With a loud, booming voice, Sehn shouted something that she’d heard him say once before—in Magia.

“
Remmos MAHR
Vi
Nara Sallos RAHL
!
”

For a fleeting moment in time—an instant so brief it presented itself as a flash—Cah’lia saw the Archmage’s lifeless eyes widen in shock. And although Cah’lia only saw it for less than a fraction of a second, what she saw was unmistakable: the Archmage was
frightened
.

And then there was light. Lots of it.

The entire world ceased to exist as an all-encompassing brightness filled her eyes. She distantly felt a force slam into her, throwing her off her feet. She thought she heard a boom, or some other tremendous sound, but if so, it must have been quick, because all she could hear now was a deafening ringing in her ears. She tried to catch her breath. She wasn’t sure if she was standing or lying down. After a moment, she realized she was moving; whatever force had knocked her down was powerful enough to send her rolling along the ground.

Seconds that felt like hours seemed to pass. And then she felt hands on her face—a woman’s hands. Her vision began to clear, and she discovered she was lying on her back, staring up into Mistress Orellia’s face.

“Can you hear me yet? You were too close to the blast. I’m using my magic to help you recover faster.”

“Recover…faster?”

Cah’lia sat up. What she saw both terrified and awed her. There was fire everywhere; the barracks, along with four guard outposts, had been completely annihilated. It looked as though the world had ended. It was as if hell had risen and had taken over the city, engulfing everything and anything in scalding flames.

But the worst of it was the northern gates—or lack thereof. The massive iron gates along with a tremendous section of the wall had simply vanished. It was as though a dragon had attacked the city. The wall, which was tall and thick enough to withstand armies, now had a massive chunk missing—simply gone as if it had never been there at all. Everywhere Cah’lia looked, she saw flames. Gods, it would take years to repair the damage.

And standing somewhere in the center of all the destruction, with fire and smoke surrounding him, was Sehn. Slowly he turned his head. He smiled innocently when he saw Cah’lia. Then his eyebrows rose and his expression became one of excitement and merriment.

“Cah’lia!” he cried, joy in his voice. “Did you see that shit? You saw that, right? Tell me you saw it. I literally want to hear the words, ‘Yes, Great Sehn, I saw it.’ Ahahahah! I am God! For real this time! I am fucking God! Make sure you tell everyone back at Elvar I can do this. I hope you didn’t miss what I did, because I saw your foolish self flopping around on the ground like a fish. Hold on, let me show you one more time in case you missed it.” Sehn inhaled. “Remmos MAHR
Vi
Nara—”

“Stop!” Cah’lia shrieked. Sehn hesitated, and she ran at him. She reached him just in time and slapped him on the back of the head.

“Ouch, Cah’lia! Gods, what was that for?”

Cah’lia waved her arms around her. She tried to speak, but her words were incoherent and jumbled. When she finally managed to calm herself down, she said, “What do you
think
that was for, Sehn? What in the name of the Gods have you just done?”

“Magic.”

“Magic?
Magic
!
Look around you. You just…it looks like you caused Armageddon!”

Sehn blushed—he actually had the nerve to blush. “Are you trying to flatter me, Cah’lia? Because it’s working.”

Orellia and Kellar came running over. “Thank the Gods,” Orellia said, breathing a sigh of relief. “We all still exist.” She shot Sehn a fierce look. “Do not
ever
do that again!”

Sehn snorted. “Are you serious? I shall be using this spell at least five times a day now that I see how amazingly—ouch!”

He stopped speaking abruptly as Cah’lia stomped on his toes. To Orellia, she asked, “Is this the same spell he used to get us out of the prison in Magia?” Horror crept into her voice. “And is it possible the children were harmed in…whatever this was?”

“No,” Orellia said. “Nero and Rina are no longer in Hahl—of that we can be sure. Shina would have sensed them now that we’re this close. As for your other question, yes, this is the same force Sehn used in the prison. But remember: there was extremely powerful anti-magic inside our cell, which is why the effect you saw then and the effect you see now have such a…staggering difference. The anti-magic in the cell absorbed nearly all of the spell. But none of that matters right now. More importantly, where is Archmage Duncan? Did he die?”

“I sure hope not,” Cah’lia said. “He’s the only one who knows where the children are.” She glared at Sehn. “I hope you didn’t turn him into dust, Sehn. Without him, we have no way of finding Nero and Rina.”

Sehn lowered his head. “I’m sorry.” With his face down, Cah’lia could only see a small portion of his lips, but she was sure he was grinning; there was also a severe lack of sincerity in his voice.

“You must forgive me, Cah’lia,” he said. “The Great Sehn has been known to turn lesser beings into dust from time to time.”

Just great
,
Cah’lia thought.
Really
,
there is no worse person in the world to have this kind of power
.
This is going to go straight to his head
.

“You see,” Sehn continued, “even someone such as myself makes mistakes. Yes, I’m admitting it. I, Sehn, make mistakes. I only wanted to destroy half of the city’s northern wall; instead, I destroyed the entire thing. Do you see? I am a humble being who admits his mistakes. Damn it all! If only I weren’t so amazingly powerful and perfect! I’m just as upset about this as you are, Cah’lia.”

Cah’lia sighed. When did it ever end with him? She was only a moment from calling him on his nonsense when she heard the sound of a man wailing.

“My wall!” Patrick moaned loudly. “Sehn! Damn you, Sehn! Look at what you have done to my wall!”

Patrick hurried over, flailing his arms around as if panicked. “Everything you touch you ruin, Sehn! Why? What have I done to deserve this?”

When he reached Cah’lia, he looked at her as though she had some kind of answer for him: as though she could convince Sehn to “undo” the damage he’d done. Unfortunately, she knew Sehn was only good at destroying things and not putting them back together. Once again, she was forced to apologize on his behalf—or she tried to, at least.

There was a sudden change in the breeze. The winds picked up and became unnaturally fast. The fire surrounding them died down and turned into smoke, which then faded off into the air. Within seconds, the inferno Sehn had caused ceased to exist, leaving only rubble and destruction in its wake. Then came the stench, and with it, Cah’lia realized she’d gotten her wish.

The Archmage was not yet dead.

Nothing Cah’lia had ever smelled was as bad as the pungent scent that traveled on the fast-moving winds, which had appeared abruptly and extinguished the flames. The aroma was powerful enough to make her head ache. Shaking and lightheaded, she held her dagger close to her chest and spun around in all directions, unsure of where this new danger lurked.

The seemingly instant transition from a breeze into a ferocious wind left little doubt that this was the work of magic. Initially, Cah’lia had been unsure of what or who had conjured this tempest of ever-increasing intensity, but she didn’t wonder for long. The sound of laughter came from all around her: from behind, from in front, and from below. At first, she’d thought it was simply the howl of the wind, but then the shrill noise lowered in pitch, becoming more humanlike, until she was sure that what she heard could only be the mad laughter of the Archmage, Duncan. Now, she tried to keep herself on full guard while she waited for him to reappear.

As the winds continued to pick up, it became difficult to see; dirt and other debris forced her to look downward and shield her eyes with one hand while still defensively holding her dagger with the other. Soon, her vision became completely obscured, and she was unable to remove her hand from her eyes.

Lacking the ability to observe the world around her—at least with her eyes—she turned to her other senses. She filtered out the whine of the winds and listened. It took her a moment to focus, but eventually she became aware of shouts coming from three different directions. The first came from well in the distance. She strained to hear it clearly, but after a few seconds’ focus, she made out the sound of Kingdom soldiers calling out to one another, asking after each other’s wellbeing.

The second series of shouts, these a bit closer, came from Patrick, Shina, and Kellar, who were all calling after Cah’lia, asking if she was okay. There was no sound from Mistress Orellia, who had been nearest to her before these hellish winds had arrived, but Cah’lia assumed the resourceful mage-woman had made out all right; she was far too strong to be done in by a bit of wind.

With the soldiers sounding off in the distance, and Patrick’s group somewhat closer, the final bunch of shouts that she heard came from directly in front of her: from Sehn. Of all present, he seemed to be the only one with no real idea of what was actually going on here. He—and he alone—somehow failed to figure out that magic was responsible for this sudden storm.

Cah’lia muttered an insult under her breath as she listened to his angry war cries. For some ungodly reason, he really seemed to believe that the wind was acting on its own—that this was some kind of natural wind activity that had specifically been designed just to mess with him, as evident from his violent threats of vengeance. As usual, his shouts were louder and more vulgar than anyone else’s were—by far. Repeatedly, he challenged the wind to various forms of physical combat, then later accused the wind of being frightened of him.

“How dare you attack the Great Sehn!” he bellowed. Cah’lia opened a single eyelid just enough to see through a crack in her fingers. Sehn was also covering his face with his hand, and with his other hand balled into a fist, he threw random punches along with a few kicks at the empty air around him, hitting nothing.

“Foolish wind! Is this the extent of your power?” he shouted, continuing to throw jabs and uppercuts at the air. “Hah! The Great Sehn is winning!”

Sometimes I’m embarrassed to know him
,
Cah’lia thought.
And other times…

Despite all the chaos, a reluctant smile formed on her lips. It made her feel stupid, standing here in the middle of this magical storm and grinning like a shy elven child during her first date. Who would’ve thought the day would come she’d find his personality so charming? Something must’ve been wrong with her: mentally speaking.

Several minutes passed, and then as quickly as the winds had come, they began to fade. Cah’lia opened her eyes once the dust, pebbles, and other debris ceased to be a threat. Slowly lowering her hand, she searched for any sign of the Archmage. It was difficult to focus with the sound of Sehn in the background; he was howling victoriously, claiming that the wind had run away because it was—and these were his words—“a frightened bitch-wind, weaker than all other winds that the Great Sehn has defeated.” Cah’lia knew better than to spend time dwelling on the rather sad fact that this, apparently, had not been Sehn’s first battle with…the wind.

Why do I even listen to this
?

She slowly made her way over the damaged ground, which had become cracked and broken in places following Sehn’s explosion. Careful not to trip over a loose piece of stone, she crossed the rest of the distance to Sehn, who was too busy proclaiming his victory to notice her. With no sign of the enemy, she needed to be nearby in case Archmage Duncan launched a surprise attack against him while he was too busy gloating to see it coming.

She spun around twice, scanning her surroundings. There was no sign of the decaying mage. Thankfully, she did catch sight of Mistress Orellia, who had rejoined Patrick; Patrick signaled his troops to regroup then broke apart from them, heading towards Cah’lia with Mistress Orellia and the others. Once nearly there, he turned his walk into a half-run, breathing heavily as he reached Cah’lia’s side.

“Sehn, are you okay?” Patrick asked.

Sehn, who was still jumping up and down while he roared his victory, finally seemed to notice Cah’lia and the others. He folded his arms and raised his chin, so that he stared down his nose at Patrick.

“Of course I’m okay. What kind of question is that? The answer should be obvious, for it is like asking if bees fart.”

Kellar chuckled. “I actually don’t know if they do or don’t. Do they, Sehn?”

Wrinkles formed on Sehn’s forehead as a look of complete uncertainty took over his features. His mouth opened, and for a moment, his tongue rubbed against his upper front teeth while he held out his index finger.

“They…they do,” he said finally.

“Are you sure?”

“Of…of course I’m sure, Kellar. The Great Sehn is not just the most powerful and terrifying being in the world, but he is also the world’s finest animal scientist. So yes: bees fart. This is now a fact. Even if it wasn’t one before, it is one now. Memorize it, for you shall be tested on it later, and the penalty for not knowing the answer is death by ball pain.”

Patrick cleared his throat. “If you two would kindly remember why we’re here, that would be most appreciated right about now.” He shuddered as he looked around at the sight of the former northern gates, now reduced to rubble and beyond recognition. His voice was eerily quiet. “Where did the Archmage go?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Sehn asked. “I vaporized him.”

“I don’t think so,” Orellia said. “I heard him laughing, but from everywhere around me at once. It reminded me of the Champion’s whisper.”

Cah’lia nodded. “I heard the same.”

“As did…I,” the Champion whispered. Cah’lia wondered why his words lacked the same ever-present quality they’d had during—and shortly after—the battle for Hahl. “He could be…around here somewhere.”

“If he is,” Cah’lia said, “then we’ll need to assume he’s hiding from us. He could be anywhere.”

It was only as Cah’lia took a third, then fourth look at their surroundings that she realized the extent of the damage Sehn had caused. Not only had he completely wrecked the barracks, but also the integrity of the stone used in its construction had been ruined. The barracks, along with the four guard outposts, the gates, and a sizable chunk of city’s wall were now at a point where they did not need to be repaired; no, they needed to be rebuilt entirely from scratch with new raw materials. It was no wonder Patrick despaired over the damage.

Cah’lia tried to calculate the cost of rebuilding, and the numbers popping into her head made her swallow nervously. Not only did all these structures need rebuilding, but also lost in the damage would be all the spare weapons, armor, arrows, and cannon ammunition stored in the barracks—those too would’ve likely been destroyed in the blast. Cah’lia estimated that, altogether, the damage exceeded half of what the entire city of Elvar was worth, with most of the cost going towards the wall.

“Sehn,” she said.

“What is it?”

“What you did here…this is no joking matter.”

“Hmm? Who said this is a joke, Cah’lia? My wrath is a thing of the utmost seriousness.”

He didn’t get it. She needed to make him understand. There were times she could disregard his ignorance, and then there were times when he needed to see the truth of things.

“Sehn, how much do you think the damage you’ve done here will cost Patrick?”

“Perhaps ten-thousand elvens, which I must say is a small price to pay for the right to witness my Godly display of might.”

Cah’lia slowly shook her head. “That number. You’re exaggerating, aren’t you?”

“What are you talking about?”

“In your mind, you probably think you caused much less damage than that, but you’re inflating it. You probably think you caused five, maybe six-thousand elvens in damage, and you’re only saying ten thousand, because that’s just how you are.”

“That is absurd! How dare you—?”

“But!” she shot in, cutting him off. “You’re wrong either way. The number is not going to be around five, ten, or even a hundred-thousand elvens. It’s going to be closer to a few-hundred million.”

At this, Sehn’s eyes widened, and the smug look fell off his face. “A few…hundred million? Are you mad, Cah’lia? That much money to fix a wall and a few small storage houses? Impossible!”

“Those aren’t just ‘storage houses,’ Sehn. And do you have any idea how much it costs to rebuild a section of the city wall that high? From scratch? And to reinforce it? To hire a team of stonemasons to ensure its structural integrity through each step of the building process? The cost in materials alone is beyond any amount of money that either of us will ever see.”

“Is this true, Patrick?” Sehn asked.

“It is,” he said. There was no venom in his voice—just hopelessness. He sounded like a man resigned to his fate.

Sehn turned away, and Cah’lia knew her point had been made. Sehn had always liked to have his fun, but despite his reckless stupidity, he wasn’t such an idiot that he couldn’t realize when he’d gone overboard. Even before setting out on this journey, Cah’lia had always known there was a limit to Sehn’s mischief. Although he caused his father no shortage of aggravation, he’d always stopped himself just before doing anything truly horrible. Everything he’d always done could be undone with little effort, and everything he’d always broken could be fixed with a few coins. Cah’lia believed that, deep down, Sehn never intended to do anything that would cost other people any genuine suffering.

The result of his destructive magic here would cost the taxpayers greatly; people would truly suffer because of his actions. Hahl’s economy would take a tremendous hit, which would ripple down from the top to the bottom, affecting people of every class and race. Meanwhile, with Hahl now partially undefended, an invading army could simply prance in the northern side of the city thanks to a quarter of the wall having been destroyed.

“I know you don’t want to hear this from me,” Sehn said, facing back around, “but Patrick, honestly, I didn’t know that the spell was going to…to do this much.”

“Oh, I know you didn’t,” Patrick said. “I know you well enough to know that. It’s why I’m not blaming you for it.”

“You’re not?”

Patrick closed his eyes. “You did what you had to do to survive. The damage inflicted on my city was the cost of battle.”

Cah’lia remained quiet, as did Orellia, Shina, Kellar, and the Champion. She was glad Sehn and Patrick were still on speaking terms after Patrick had hit him in the former-mayor’s mansion. She’d almost forgotten all about that whole ordeal. But now, as Patrick inhaled, opened his eyes, and placed each of his hands on Sehn’s shoulders, she knew that the contentious issue was about to be brought back up.

“Sehn,” Patrick began, “I have given up so much…I’ve…I’ve given up so much for you. I don’t think you fully understand what I have had to sacrifice, my pride least of all, to get you to come with me—to bring you this far.”

Sehn said nothing, and Patrick continued. “There are starving children in Hahl, as well as other Kingdom cities. Usually, the Kingdom stockpiles a reserve of food, which it then distributes to the poor and the sick. But no longer. Do you know why?”

“Why?” Sehn asked.

“Because your father, Chief Suhn, demanded a large sum of food and medical supplies as payment in return for allowing me to enlist your aid. And so we don't have enough. We have chosen to feed the children of Elvar over the children of Hahl.”

Once again, Sehn offered nothing in response, and Cah’lia knew why. The reason was simple: there was nothing he
could
say. Even Cah’lia didn’t know how she’d reply if she were in Sehn’s shoes. Silence was the only answer he could give.

Patrick dropped his arms to his sides and took a step away from Sehn. Then he inclined his chin in the direction of the destroyed wall.

“The damage here is nothing compared to what the Hawk will do if we allow him to get his hands on the Item in the Pillar of Hope.”