The Archon's Apprentice (18 page)

When they entered the cave, Mikol blinked rapidly from the blazing light coming from a fire in the center. When he could see clearly, he gasped loudly at the sheer size of the cave and its ceiling that spiraled up and out of view. Mikol looked to Bayle for his reaction but saw the cave entrance was lit up. He could see outside the cave without difficulty. He could even see into the surrounding forest farther than he thought he should be able. He opened his mouth to speak when Bayle nudged him in the ribs. Mikol glanced down as Bayle indicated to see a glow emanating from Raythrael. He frowned and drew his cloak tighter around himself but tightened his grip.

The giant was talking to a man who had his back to them at the far side of the cave. The man waved away the giant and turned to them with a flourish. The dancing firelight illuminated the scars covering the man.
 

“Welcome.” The man bowed. “My name is Erash. You may call me the Changer. Tobo tells me you have brought gold to get changed?”

Mikol nodded.

“That is unusual but it can be done.” Erash paused, looking earnestly at them both. “You know of the cost?”

“No,” said Bayle.

“Hmmm. That is also unusual. Who was it that told you to seek me out? My services are not rendered lightly and should never be used on a whim.”

“A clothier in Cobinstil,” said Bayle.

“That would explain your clothing. Your outfits are too mundane, not enough flair.” Erash flung his arm out. A slow explosion of color radiated from his hand. “That is not important to our business at hand for the moment. My cost is simple.” Erash paused. “I require a year of your life.”

“What? We can’t stay here for a year,” said Mikol.

“You misunderstand me. I don’t want you here for a year,” Erash laughed. “I want a year of your life.”

“I don’t think I understand. How can you take a year of our lives?” said Bayle.

“With this.” Erash withdrew a jagged knife. “I will draw forth your ... essence, and combine it with mine.”

“I want to see the gold we will get in exchange first. I don’t see any gold here,” said Bayle.

“My boy, you have again misjudged what I do. Hand me the gold and I will show you that my services are well worth the cost.”

Bayle hesitantly handed the bag over and quickly stepped back. Erash turned over the bag, dumping the gold pieces into a pile on the ground. With the same jagged dagger, Erash cut across his left forearm. The blood immediately seeped forth and he let it drop on the coins. When Erash began to chant Mikol was surprised to find he could understand some of the words. He had to listen closely. It sounded like Erash was saying the runic names with a thick accent and over-enunciating them. The blood that had dripped onto the coins had immediately sizzled and boiled away. After all of the coins had been coated and boiled the blood stopped seeping out of the wound as quickly as it had started. Erash reach down to one of the coins and flipped it in the air to Bayle

“These coins now have the power to be any type of coin you need them to be. As you can see, they are now Siban gold.”

Bayle turned the coin over in his hand, examining it closely, before handing the coin to Mikol. The coin no longer showed the young, regal face of his father. Instead it had the crossed sword and wheat emblem common to Sibilova.
 

“If you take the gold to Whitehall they will be ducks. Take them to Highbarrow, they will be, well, whatever they are passing off as money these days.”

Erash picked up a coin and held it gently.
 

“It is always hard to know what the Northerners will want. Out of all the ‘Savage Kingdoms,’ the Northerners have always been the most stubborn.”

Erash flipped the coin in the air and caught it with his other hand.

“Of course, when you return to Ternia, they will again be Ternian Crowns.”

“I see they have changed, but how do we know they will stay this way when we leave? Or that they will do as you say they will?”

Erash burst into laughter. The sound coming from Tobo could only be laughter, but it rattled Mikol to his core.

“My boy, I am the Changer. My services are absolute and permanent. I would not ask for such a cost if I could not deliver.” Erash ran his finger along the edge of his blade. “Now, who would like to pay me first?”

“We did not agree to your terms,” said Mikol.

“One does not see the changer without agreeing to my terms. Whether you say you did or not does not matter. This is known and absolute. I will be paid.”

“We did not know. Change it back then, we did not agree,” said Bayle, drawing his sword.

“Impudent whelp, it does not matter that you did not know it or agree to it. I have done the work and shall now take my payment.”
 

With a word and a flick of his wrist, the sword pointed at Erash flung out of Bayle’s hand, flying across the room.
 

“You have now doubled the cost.”

Bayle lunged forward. He let out a yelp as Tobo appeared beside him, wrapping his arms around Bayle. Mikol had taken a step forward but halted as he witnessed the interaction. His grip on Raythrael could not be any tighter.

“I have not forgotten about you,” said Erash, turning to face Mikol. “As Tobo has your friend occupied, I shall start with you.”

Erash drew several symbols in the air and muttered familiar words with a devious smile on his face. Mikol felt his chest suddenly cool but nothing else happened. He chuckled at Erash and brushed his chest. The pendant was ice beneath his shirt and gave him confidence. Erash’s look of surprise turned into a snarl of rage. Mikol drew a glowing Raythrael and pointed it at Erash.

“Let him go and I shall spare you,” said Mikol.

“I don’t know what stopped my spell, but you shall not escape.”

Mikol recognized that Erash cast the same incantation that had disarmed Bayle, but Raythrael only glowed a deeper blue in his hand. Erash roared as he rushed headlong at Mikol, the jagged dagger held out like a spear. Mikol was in his element. He felt his eyebrow raise slightly at the brash, obvious, and rudimentary attack. Mikol sidestepped and swung Raythrael down. He expected Erash to have a counter or avoid his attack. Instead, Raythrael cleaved through Erash’s arm. There was a flash of light and thump as the arm landed on the ground.
 

Both men stared at the arm for a moment. Mikol looked at Erash, confused why he would have tried something so juvenile. Erash looked at his arm, then Mikol, and then to his stump. He brought his good arm up and drew symbols in the air. He flung his stump around, causing blood to fly all over. Mikol took a step forward before recognition of the words being spoken made him dodge the first bloody projectile. The second bullet he could not dodge, but he deflected it with Raythrael and heard a sizzle. He deflected a third and fourth bullet just as easily. Mikol could not tell if he or Raythrael was deflecting the bullets. He pushed forward as he felt a pattern emerge from Erash’s attacks. Mikol made his way slowly to Erash and with a final dodge he swung Raythrael for a killing blow. Mikol barely felt the blade cut. Erash stopped moving and his body fell forward, but his head fell backward. The silence of the cave became heavy.

Only a second later, Tobo started to roar. Mikol shifted into a defensive stance. He had fought larger men before but he did not know how to avoid hurting Bayle, still in Tobo’s embrace. As Mikol took a step forward, Tobo released Bayle, who darted away without question to grab his sword. He turned around, waiting for Tobo to make a move toward either of them.
 

Tobo started to shake his head from side to side. Grabbing his head, he let out a groan that turned into a wail. Mikol and Bayle took a step away from the giant. No longer was Tobo holding the side of his head; he was holding onto the wall. Blood seeped out of his ears. When he looked back at Mikol, the giant’s eyes burst and blood ran down his face. Tobo fell against the wall, still wailing. He slowly slid down the wall. It was hard to look at the man. His wails grew quieter and turned to whimpering, until finally the man slumped forward silent.

Mikol slowly walked over to Tobo. He prodded Tobo with his boot but elicited no response. Mikol turned to Bayle and shrugged. He sheathed Raythrael, noting it had stopped glowing. Looking over the cave, Mikol had no words to describe what he had just witnessed.

“I think we should leave,” said Bayle.

Mikol nodded.
 

“But we still need the gold.”

Bayle grabbed the bag and tossed the gold pieces in to it. Mikol picked up a piece and saw it was still a Siban gold piece. It seemed they had accomplished what they set out to do. With the bag full they headed out of the cave. Mikol was afraid they would be lost but the forest was changed. While it was still dark out, their path back to camp was clear. They made it back to camp in minutes.
 

“We need to leave before any of ... that is discovered,” said Bayle.

“Do we still get clothes?”

“We can get clothes somewhere else. You know more about whatever just happened back in the cave than I do. But I am sure he is known around here. Probably even has friends. Or, at least someone who would not like him dead. Besides, if someone else wants his services and they find him dead, they will look for whoever killed him. I wouldn’t put my money, or our funny money, or Golvin keeping his mouth shut.”

Mikol could not find fault with the logic. They broke camp immediately and rode north, keeping as much distance as they could from Cobinstil.

Chapter 12

Silverhall

It seemed to Mikol they only had one pace recently: fast. They only stopped just long enough during the next two days to keep exhaustion at bay. After the first day the rain started. There had been little warning when the first spring rain drenched them. Even if they had been able to wait out the storms, Mikol would have pushed for them to keep moving. His fear of getting caught by someone was high. The discomfort of riding soaked to the bone gave way to a general numbness that affected his mood.
 

 
When they stopped the first rainy night, they pulled out their bedrolls and made a hasty camp. Mikol did not sleep well and judging how Bayle had moved around during the night neither did he. They broke camp in the morning with the rain still falling. The next night they decided to forgo removing anything from their packs and slept on the ground. In the morning they had a slight reprieve from the rain but it was still too wet to start a fire.
 

The only benefit from the rain was that anyone else they passed on the road kept their heads down and paid them no attention. A coach passed them at one point. Mikol thought he saw the passengers looking out at him and laughing. He sat up straight in his saddle to confront them but realized they were not laughing. They had only glanced at him sidelong. This just left him with more to think about. The first day he had tried to talk with Bayle but the rain made it hard for them to do anything but yell. He had given up and wallowed in his thoughts.
 

Mikol tried to convince himself this journey was worth it. He would never be able to forget what had happened to Perim. There was definitely an enemy that wanted to take down Ternia. Without an heir, he had no idea what would happen to Ternia. He tried to tell himself that Arceri was still alive and would return triumphant over this warlord. Maybe Arceri had already returned and the men chasing after him were sent by Arceri. They may have even been sent by Turos. Mikol snorted to himself as the thought of Turos helping him entered his mind. Turos would never go out of his way to help Mikol or anyone. Growing up, he had barely even acknowledged Mikol. No, the men following him were still a mystery. Arceri would never have stayed with the Paragons for so long, leaving the kingdom without its most powerful protectors. Mikol saw no other way of saving his family and kingdom. He had to push forward and find the weapons. He still had doubts if there even was a cache to be found, but he pushed those thoughts away as quick as they came. They had traveled too far now to turn back even if they did not find anything.
 

Mikol checked the pendant frequently even through the rain. He wished he could enable the magic of the pendant to keep him dry as well. Even in the hardest rain, the pendant stayed dry. Luckily, the arrow kept them on the road as they rode northward. Mikol was curious if the pendant kept them on the road because of the rain. The road itself was not straight. A few curves had taken them due east for a time. The pendant had pointed them straight on the road even still. Whatever the reason, Mikol was glad he did not have to make a cross-country trip in the rains. Soon enough, the road turned north again and they saw a sign for Silverhall. Mikol frowned. He did not want to go to the largest city in the Savage Kingdoms, but it seemed he had no choice.

The rains had finally let up after five days. The influx of traffic on the roads caught Mikol off guard. He did not remember when they had ridden into the middle of a horde of people going north. There were all sorts of people of the road. He could see some wealthy people on horses with their own caravans, as well as low-born without horses, pulling carts in the muddy road. The sheer amount of people slowed their progress. They traveled another day before they saw the high walls of Silverhall. With every step they took the city grew larger. Mikol was in awe. Valefort would have looked like a roadside inn compared to Silverhall. Framing the city and dwarfing even it were the Dagger Peak mountains. The city itself seemed to have been carved from the side of the mountain. Even stranger still was the amount of people that were outside of the city.
 

There was a large line that flowed towards the city. Mikol thought about rising to the head of the line but the sheer amount of people forced him to slowly move forward. Even on horseback the people were crowded around them. Bayle made sure his sword was visible whenever someone looked at him. Mikol was not as forceful about pushing people away. Many of those near him begged for money or food. Even after he refused they begged still. Many of the others in line turned away from them. Bayle was forced to intervene when the beggars became aggressive and Mikol was pulled from his saddle to the ground. Bayle had to strike a number of the beggars with the flat of his blade to get them to let go. One of them came at Bayle but backed down when confronted with a sword at his throat. Mikol dusted himself off and wiped off some blood from a cut lip. He remounted his horse and looked forward. No one came up to them afterward.