Sevenfold Sword: Sovereign Read online

  If Ridmark’s idea was right, if they really could open a gate from Urd Maelwyn to Cathair Animus, Calliande wanted to attempt it outside the camp.

  Just in case something went wrong. Like the gate exploding.

  The world gate the Frostborn had used to invade Andomhaim had exploded, and its destruction had razed a citadel the size of a city and several large hills for good measure. Granted, it took a tremendous amount of magical force to travel the immeasurable distance between worlds. The distance from Urd Maelwyn to Cathair Animus was a few hundred miles at most. Calliande didn’t think that mishandling the spells to create the gate would be all that dangerous.

  Still, she had been wrong before.

  She walked with Ridmark onto the empty plain between the siege camps and Urd Maelwyn, the others following her. The air still smelled of smoke and blood and charred flesh from the battle the day before. The hoplites and teams of saurtyri workers had cleared away the slain, and Arcanius Knights had used their magic to burn the dead to ashes in great pyres. Given the Confessor’s skill at necromancy, burning the dead was a prudent precaution. Calliande had heard stories how the Confessor had feigned a defeat, only to return, raise the corpses of the slain as his confessing undead, and overwhelm his foes. Though given that the Confessor was marching his army to Cathair Animus in haste, it likely wasn’t going to be a problem.

  Calliande glanced back at the others. Kalussa and Calem followed close behind her, Kalussa’s face set with determination, Calem solemn as ever. Third walked with Ridmark, seeming like a shadow in her dark clothing and gray cloak, the hilts of her enspelled swords rising over her shoulders. Selene strode at Third’s side, hand resting on her sword, her silver eyes always watchful. Then came Tamlin and Tamara. They were rarely apart, but given how long Tamlin had spent looking for Tamara again, Calliande could hardly blame him. Magatai rode atop Northwind, the struthian lizard moving with more grace than her gangly frame would suggest, and with him came Kamatai and the other ancient Takai warriors they had rescued from the Durance of the Sovereign. Further back, Calliande saw Krastikon with Queen Zenobia. He was so much taller than his wife that they looked mismatched, but Calliande thought they made a good pair.

  She and Ridmark had come through a lot of danger with their friends, and now perhaps they would see the end of this together.

  “Here,” said Calliande, raising her voice so all the kings and their attendants could hear her. “This should be far enough.”

  Rhodruthain started to open his mouth to say something, but Morigna spoke first. “I concur.”

  Despite the serious situation, Calliande stifled a smile. She had forgiven Rhodruthain for bringing her family to Owyllain. Nevertheless, it still amused her to see Morigna talk over Rhodruthain at every opportunity. In her first life, Morigna had not lacked for confidence, and it seemed that trait had carried on to her new life as a gray elf.

  Then Calliande cleared her mind and turned her attention to the matter at hand.

  “Everyone!” she called. “Stay at least fifty yards away. If something goes wrong, that ought to be a safe distance.”

  Or so she thought.

  She was the Keeper of Andomhaim and had no formal authority in Owyllain. Nonetheless, the kings and their advisors heeded her counsel and backed away. Perhaps after seeing her in battle, they were inclined to follow her suggestions. A few moments later, Calliande stood with Ridmark, Rhodruthain, Morigna, and Kalussa.

  “How should we proceed?” said Ridmark.

  “Rhodruthain will need to look into your mind to see your memory of opening gates with the sword of the Dragon Knight,” said Calliande. A recollection of her own flashed through her thoughts. That sword had almost killed Ridmark when he had taken it up, but she pushed the dark memory from her mind. “Once he does, he will summon the power of the Sword of Life. I will take that power into myself and feed it back into him as he casts the gate spell. Morigna will guide the spell with her Sight, and Kalussa will make the archway with the Staff of Blades.”

  “How large should I make the archway, Keeper?” said Kalussa.

  Calliande looked to Ridmark.

  “Try for ten yards high and ten yards wide,” said Ridmark. “That should be wide enough to get the scutian carts through. The faster we can get the army to Cathair Animus, the better.”

  Kalussa nodded, took a few steps to the side, and leveled the Staff of Blades. She concentrated, and the crystal at the end spat out a glittering shard. The shard swelled and expanded, forming into a lump of crystal that impacted that ground about ten yards away. Kalussa followed it with another, and another, gradually building up an archway.

  “Now,” said Rhodruthain. “Let us begin. Lord Ridmark?”

  Ridmark stepped closer to the Guardian, and Rhodruthain put his free hand on Ridmark’s left temple. He stood for a moment, eyes closed with concentration, and then nodded.

  “Yes,” Rhodruthain murmured. “I understand now. So simple…and yet so difficult. Keeper, I shall summon the power. Morigna, focus your Sight upon Cathair Animus.” Calliande nodded and put her left hand on Rhodruthain’s right shoulder, and Morigna grasped his other shoulder. “Now.”

  The Sword of Life glowed with golden light in its scabbard, and Calliande drew on its power, charging it with the strength of the Keeper’s mantle and feeding it back into Rhodruthain. She sensed the older Guardian’s strain as he shaped the power into a spell, felt the stirring as Morigna drew on her Sight.

  For a long moment, nothing happened. Calliande concentrated on the flow of power, and she heard the glassy crackling noise as Kalussa built the archway.

  Then Rhodruthain sucked in a long breath, turned, and made a pushing gesturing with his staff. White fire flared up and down its length, and Calliande felt the magic rush through him. The air inside of Kalussa’s crystalline archway shimmered and rippled, and a curtain of gray mist rose within the arch, filling it entirely.

  Calliande saw the spell snap into place, like a key turning in a lock

  The mist inside the archway shimmered, and through it Calliande saw a rocky valley, mountains looming in the distance, monumental statues rising in the foothills.

  ###

  Rhodruthain stepped back, leaning on his staff as he caught his balance, and Ridmark looked at the crystalline archway.

  The gate had opened within it.

  He felt a chill of memory. The gates he had opened with the sword of the Dragon Knight had looked like that, like curtains of mist covering holes in the air that led to other places. Armies had marched through those gates, and not every soldier who had walked through one of the gates Ridmark had created had returned home.

  Through the gate in the crystalline arch, Ridmark saw what looked like a wide valley at the foot of the mountains. Snow-capped peaks rose in the distance, and in the foothills, he saw what looked like colossal statues of white stone carved in the shape of armored warriors.

  “The gate is open,” said Rhodruthain, rolling his shoulders as if fatigued from great labor.

  “Aye,” said Calliande, her eyes hazy as she drew on the Sight. “And…I believe it is stable. It ought to have collapsed by now, but it’s drawing power from the Sword of Life.”

  “How long will the gate last?” said Ridmark.

  “Until we close it, or something destroys it,” said Calliande. “And it would be extraordinarily difficult to destroy. The crystal arch anchors it in place. The only way to properly close the gate would be to destroy the arch or kill Rhodruthain and break his link to the Sword of Life. And even then, it would take a few days for the gate’s magic to unravel.”

  By this time, it had become clear that the gate was not going to explode, and some of the others had drawn near. Third and Selene stepped next to Ridmark. Calem walked at once to join Kalussa, and Tamlin and Tamara followed him. Magatai ambled forward atop Northwind, flanked by Kamatai and his warriors.

  “A mighty feat of magic, Guardian Rhodruthain,” announced Magatai. “Magatai sees
that you have sliced a hole in the air itself.”

  “It’s not really a hole in the air,” said Rhodruthain. “It is a space-time aperture folded along a five-dimensional axis that allows…”

  Magatai scoffed. “Nonsense words.”

  Rhodruthain sighed. “It’s a magic portal.”

  “Ah! Now you are talking sense.”

  “We’ll have to test it,” said Ridmark.

  “I believe it should be safe,” said Calliande, though a flicker of fear went through her. She could tell that Ridmark was going to test the gate himself. She knew the gate would work, but what if she was wrong?

  “I’ll go with you,” said Tamlin at once, pulling on his helmet. “No telling what is on the other side.”

  “As shall I,” said Calem.

  Third said nothing but stepped to join Ridmark.

  Ridmark nodded. “Very well. We’ll take a quick look around and see if it is safe for the army to pass through.” He drew Oathshield. The blue blade flashed in the sun, and the soulstones set in its pommel and tang gave off no white light. There was no dark magic nearby. “Let’s go.”

  He walked to the gate, Tamlin and Calem following him, Third at his side.

  ###

  There was no point in putting it off, so Ridmark took a deep breath and stepped into the crystal archway of the gate.

  Nothing bad happened, though it still felt damned strange.

  Walking through the gate was only a single step, but Ridmark nonetheless felt the dislocation. Somehow his body was aware that he had covered hundreds of miles with one stride, and a wave of vertigo went through him.

  But there were no other deleterious effects, and Ridmark had traveled through such gates before, as had Third.

  He strode a few paces forward, giving Tamlin and Calem room to make it through, and looked around.

  The gate had deposited them in a wide, rocky valley, mountains rising on either side. Ridmark supposed the valley was about three miles wide or so, growing wider as it opened away to the east. Beyond the mouth of the valley, Ridmark saw endless rolling plains that stretched away to the horizon. They reminded him of the Takai Steppes, though drier and not quite so hot and humid. It had been a clear day outside of Urd Maelwyn, but here heavy gray clouds moved across the skies.

  To the north and the south rose massive gray mountains, their white-capped peaks thrusting into the clouds. Huge statues stood among the foothills, tiny against the bulk of the mountains, but each statue had to be at least two or three hundred feet tall. The statues showed gray elven warriors in armor, swords in hand and cloaks billowing dramatically behind them. Each gray elf had a crown upon his brow, and Ridmark had the impression that he was looking at statues of long-dead elven kings. He had seen similar statues in both the ruins of Cathair Valwyn and Cathair Selenias.

  “God, that felt strange,” muttered Tamlin, shaking his head. “A bit like falling while not moving at all.”

  “Aye,” said Calem.

  “Look,” said Third.

  Behind them, the gate stood open. It looked like a combination of Magatai’s hole in the air and a curtain of mist, and the gate blocked the sight of the mountains to the west. Ridmark stepped around it, and a strange mingled glow of white and red light came to his eyes.

  For the first time, he looked upon the ancient ruined city of Cathair Animus.

  A half-crumbled road of white stone marched through the valley, coming to the foothills in the west. In the foothills was a vast lake of molten stone, perhaps a full mile across, the mountains rising around it. The heat of it had to be immense, yet the white road continued to the edge of the lake and then became a causeway connecting to an island that rose from the center of the molten stone.

  The city of Cathair Animus filled the island.

  Its white walls ringed the island, lined with towers. Inside the walls, Ridmark glimpsed crumbling mansions and towers and domes, though a vast dome rose from the center of the city, so broad and wide it made him think of a shield laid flat upon the ground.

  “That dome,” murmured Tamlin, gazing at the city. “The big one in the center. I think I’ve seen it in my dreams from the Dark Lady…ah, from Morigna. I think it houses the Well of Storms.”

  “What is that strange light?” said Calem.

  A peculiar white light shone from the city, hazy and unfocused, visible even against the glow of the lava. After a moment, Ridmark realized it was a dome of translucent light over the island and the city both.

  “I would wager,” said Ridmark, “that is the warding spell Rhodruthain raised around the city before he transported himself to King Hektor’s camp.” He looked around the valley again. “And I think we’ve arrived before the Confessor or the Masked One. Let’s go back through the gate and…”

  “Ridmark,” said Third, lifting her golden swords.

  Boulders of varying sizes dotted the valley, perhaps left there by some ancient flood. Some of the boulders had sufficient size to make for good cover, and Ridmark saw something emerge from around one of the stones.

  “Oh, hell,” said Tamlin, raising the green blade of the Sword of Earth.

  The creature was man-shaped and stood about six feet tall. Despite that, it was obviously not human. Golden fur dotted with black spots covered its limbs, and it had a cat-like head that resembled that of a jaguar. Brilliant golden eyes considered Ridmark with the steady gaze of a predator. The creature wore a bronze helmet, a bronze cuirass, and a leather kilt that came to its knees. On its left arm was a shield, and in its right hand, it carried a bronze-tipped spear.

  The creature was a jastaani, a kindred that lived far to the east. Ridmark knew little about them, and neither did the men of Owyllain. But he did know that the Maledictus of Life had masqueraded as one of the gods of the jastaani, the Janaab Kal, and he had unified the jastaani cities into a vast army.

  “A scout, likely,” said Third. “We shall have to kill him to make sure he does not report back to his masters.” Blue fire started to glimmer in her black eyes and in her veins. “I shall…”

  The jastaani raised his spear and howled something in his native tongue.

  “Janaab Kal!” he screamed.

  “Janaab Kal!” roared dozens more voices.

  Scores of jastaani warriors emerged from in hiding behind the boulders and charged the gate, weapons in hand.

  ***

  Chapter 2: The Only Way

  Tamlin froze in surprise as the jastaani warriors rushed towards the gate, howling the name of the Janaab Kal over and over.

  But he froze only for an instant.

  He had been in too many fights for surprise to freeze him for long, first as a gladiator in the Ring of Blood of Urd Maelwyn, then as an Arcanius Knight, and most recently as the unwilling custodian of his father’s sword.

  He hadn’t wanted to take up the Sword of Earth, but it had been necessary to keep its power from being abused. Ridmark had likely felt something of the same when he had returned the sword of the Dragon Knight to the high elves.

  The Sword of Earth was a responsibility…but Tamlin had to admit that it made a useful weapon.

  He proved that a second later as he sprinted forward and leaped, casting a spell of elemental air as he did so. The power of the magic lifted him into the air, carrying him higher and farther than the muscles of his legs could have. The jastaani had no doubt been baffled to see the gate open and had hung back to see what had happened.

  But whatever they had expected, they clearly hadn’t foreseen someone like Tamlin attacking them. He soared over the heads of the first rank of jastaani, and the jaguar-like faces looked up at him in surprise.

  Then Tamlin landed behind them and started killing.

  The nearest jastaani warrior got his shield up in time to block, but bronze and wood were useless against the edge of the Sword of Earth. The blade sliced through the shield, the arm holding it, and the chest of the jastaani warrior beneath it, and Tamlin felt barely any resistance against the blade.
The catlike creature fell apart, blood gushing over the grassy ground, and Tamlin whirled to face his foes, slicing through them with the Sword of Earth.

  ###

  Calem sprinted forward and leaped, using the magic of elemental air to propel his jump just as Tamlin had done.

  Once, he would have drawn on the power of the Sword of Air to lift himself. But that had been before the terrible battle in Najaris, before he and Kalussa had confronted the shadow of the Masked One inside his thoughts. That confrontation had broken the bonds of dark magic that had chained his mind, and it had given him power. Now he was a wizard and a knight, much like Tamlin and the other Arcanii, and he would fight with both blade and spell.

  Calem landed amid another group of jastaani, and he slashed the Sword of Air. The blade passed through the nearest warrior as if the creature was made of air instead of flesh and bone and blood, and the jastaani fell in pieces to the earth. The other warriors closed around him, but Calem was already summoning more power. Arcs of lightning leaped from his hand to strike at his enemies, and they reeled back, yowling in pain. The unpleasant odor of burned jastaani fur filled his nostrils, and Calem went on the attack, wielding the Sword of Air in massive two-handed arcs.

  ###

  Tamlin and Calem ripped into the jastaani, throwing them back, but more of the creatures rushed at Ridmark and Third.

  Or they rushed at Ridmark because Third disappeared in a swirl of blue fire. The jastaani faltered for just an instant, and in that instant, Third reappeared behind them. The golden sword in her right hand blazed with elemental fire, while the sword in her left crackled with lighting. Her blades moved in a blur, and she left two of the jastaani dead in the blink of an eye. The creatures tried to close around her, but Third disappeared again, reappearing on their flank to strike again.