Exiles From The Sacred Land (Book 2) (36 page)

Sanmir tapped Vesperin on the shoulder and whispered in his ear when he turned. “I want to have a word when we can get away.”

Morgoran motioned for them to go through the portal.

On the other side, the chamber was once again dark as night. Vesperin channeled some light in the palm of his hand so that Morgoran could see one of the sconces to light.

“In the old days, these sconces were kept lit all the time,” he grumbled.

“I don’t suppose there is any reason to keep them lit now,” Sanmir pointed out.

Morgoran glared at him.

Sanmir broke the stare. “Won’t the king’s guard react poorly to us showing up in the bowels of the castle this way?”

“No, they will not, because I know a way out of here that will put us in the foyer where we can be received right away.”

Morgoran led them through a series of stairways until they exited in the foyer that led to the massive doorway to the throne room. A steward stopped them short of entering.

“Name and business, if you please.”

“Morgoran of the Vale and party on urgent business.”

“Is His Highness expecting you?”

“Not unless he has a seer by his side.”

“One moment please.” The steward entered the throne room. A few moments later, he returned. “The king is indisposed. Please return tom—”

“Oh, for the love of fairies.” Morgoran pushed the steward out of the way and entered the throne room. “What is the meaning of denying us an audience, Occelot, king of Symboria?”

Vesperin followed the others, who followed Morgoran into the room. An older, white-haired, thin man with a golden crown dressed in extricate purple robes and holding onto a knarled wooden staff stood up vehemently.

“That is Your Grace or Your Majesty, Morgoran Cleareyes!”

“My eyes are blue, thank you, Your Grace. Now what do you mean by denying me an audience? I turned you into a hare long ago, and I will do it again!”

The man shrank back onto his throne. “No, not that.”

Two guards stepped toward Morgoran. “I’ll turn one of you into a wolf and the other one a hare if you take another step.” The guards looked to the king, who waved them back.

Fool steward! “I told you not to admit anyone else today!”

“I told them, Your Grace, but they overpowered me.”

“You are useless. Leave us, steward,” the king commanded, his voice high-pitched and wavering.
No wonder the queen preferred the company of a dashing rogue like Gondrial
, Vesperin thought.

“What do you want, Morgoran? I am a tired old man.”

Morgoran took a step closer to the king. “Has anyone inquired about your staff as of late?”

The old man’s bottom lip curled up with attitude. “No one would dare. This is my most prized possession.”

“Are you certain the staff is your most prized possession?”

The king looked lovingly at the gnarled, wooden staff. “One of them, aye.”

“I need to look at your staff.”

“My staff? Why?” He pulled it to him like Morgoran was about to steal it from him.

“You can keep ahold of it; I just want to look. May I approach?”

After a long moment, the king finally agreed, and Morgoran examined the staff.

“Well, it’s the real deal. That’s good news.”

“Indeed it is the real staff. I would never let this staff out of my sight!”

“King Occelot, Your Grace, we have reason to believe that someone is planning to come in here and take your staff from you. We would like to stay with you and make sure that doesn’t happen.”

“That will not be necessary. I have had this staff for more seasons than I can count. It is safe in my hands.”

“But, Your Grace, I know this to be a fact.”

“No, no, you don’t. Now, if you will excuse me, I need to find my chamber man and use the chamber pot.”

Morgoran did not move.

“You are not following me to do my business, Morgoran. Guards, escort him out, and don’t you mind if he threatens to turn you into anything; he is all flash and show.” The king began to hobble toward an exit next to his throne. It was clear that Morgoran did not know what to do. He opened his mouth to speak at the same unfortunate moment the king dropped to the floor and turned into a long-furred hare. The staff fell to the floor.

“Get him!” the left guard yelled, and pounced on Morgoran. A bevy of guards poured into the throne room, and Vesperin had to pull his mace to defend himself. Tatrice and Bren sprang into action in defense of Morgoran. Vesperin had only a moment to glance back at the king, and he saw Dorenn with the staff exiting the throne room through the side chamber door. He had a moment of indecision, and then he bolted after him. Much to his dismay, Fayne noticed him running for the chamber door and followed. He tried to shake her on a short flight of stairs, but she was quicker than he.

“Vesperin, I am with you. Are you going after Dorenn?” he heard her say.

Vesperin stopped to face her. “I belong with my friend, Fayne. I have been thinking it over, and Trendan is right. We should be standing by him, not chasing after him. Besides, if I know Trendan, there is an arrow pointed at us right now, so you better make your choice quickly and wisely.”

“If you have faith in him, I will as well.”

“Good choice,” Trendan said as he jumped down from the top of the stairway. “This way.” He pointed to a partially opened doorway. He put his arrow back in his quiver.

Dorenn was waiting in the Migarath Portal chamber; he lit up when he saw Vesperin with Trendan. “Vesperin, I didn’t expect to see you.”

“Well, I may not understand what you are doing, but you have never lied to me or done anything to betray my trust.”

Dorenn turned to Fayne.

“I go where Vesperin and Trendan go,” she said nervously.

Dorenn looked at Trendan.

“This is Fayne. I have come to know her pretty well. I think she will be all right,” Trendan said.

Dorenn took her hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Fayne said.

Dorenn patted Vesperin on the back. “Excellent, let’s get out of here then.”

The four of them stepped through the portal—destination By’temog.

Rennon was pacing back and forth when Dorenn stepped through the portal, followed by Trendan, Vesperin, and Fayne. He thought he would see surprise on Rennon’s face when he saw Vesperin, but instead, Rennon just grinned.

“I thought you might come around,” Rennon said to Vesperin.

Vesperin nodded. “I don’t know why it took me as long as it did.”

Rennon did, however, have a surprised look when he saw Fayne.

Vesperin took Rennon’s gaze as his cue. “This is Fayne, and she’s with us.”

Rennon nodded. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Fayne said.

“Okay, everyone step out of the chamber,” Dorenn said as he ushered them up the stairs.

“Do you really need to destroy the portal, Dorenn?” Trendan asked. “So many of them are gone now already.”

“Since when did you care so much about such things?”

“I don’t know. I am kind of getting attached to these old buildings.”

“I can leave it, but Morgoran and the others will know where we went if I do.”

Rennon bolted down the steps and grabbed Dorenn’s arm. “It’s already too late.” The portal had begun to flash blue light and open. Dorenn pulled loose from Rennon and went back to grab the staff.

As soon as he was at the top of the stairs, Dorenn slammed the chamber shut. Adrenaline pulsed through his body as he followed Rennon out into the main building. He paused a moment and took out the golden serpent from his pack. As soon as it was close to the staff, it wound its way around the shaft as if it always belonged there. Next, he put the crystal in the space at the top, and the wood of the staff fixated to it. Lastly, he opened the amulet, and a green mist snaked out and joined with the crystal. Dorenn thought a moment about General Sythril being trapped inside the crystal and hoped that didn’t somehow adversely affect the key. The crystal began to glow, and the staff projected the location of a stone platform in the mountains, with a metallic door sealed in the background in the air in front of him.

Dorenn turned to his friends. “I am so thankful that all of you have faith in me. I know you don’t understand what it is I am doing yet, but you will shortly.”

Morgoran burst through the chamber door.

“Time to go. Wish me luck.” Dorenn looked into the crystal. “Take me there,” he said.

There was a flash before his eyes, and then he was on the platform, much the same way a Lora Daine worked. The air was freezing cold, and blowing snow pelted his face. He started to head for the metallic door when a sharp cracking sound made him turn to see what it was. Morgoran stood behind him a few paces.

“Don’t look so surprised, Dorenn. It seems the dragon stones are finally working again. All I had to do was set it onto the trail your crystal left behind” He held up the white, clear stone. “Tatrice,” he said.

Dorenn bolted for the metallic door, and Morgoran threw some kind of spell at him. Dorenn felt the staff fly out of his hand toward the door as he spilled backward. He grasped at anything he could as he slipped off the edge of the platform. He barely managed to grab ahold of the ridged edge.

“It would be a pity if you fell from way up here,” Morgoran said.

Dorenn clung to the side of the platform. He thought Morgoran was acting in an uncharacteristic manner, but he was more focused on survival. He looked down into the abyss below and then pulled himself up. Morgoran was standing with his arms outstretched to the sky where heavy clouds swirled and boiled. Lightning flashed and thunder boomed every time Morgoran clinched his fists. Dorenn knew that he planned to kill him. “Morgoran, why are you so adamant to stop me? You are a wielder! I would think you would want the tome to be found.”

“I do, just not by you.” He crashed another round of lightning at Dorenn. Another figure came flying in behind Morgoran. It hunched over at landing and then slowly stood upright, towering above Morgoran by a head. It appeared to be a larger version of a Drasmyd Duil, complete with leathery wings and a toothy maw. It stood behind Morgoran but did not attack him.

A sudden realization pervaded Dorenn’s mind, and he had to suppress his intense anger. “Who are you? You can’t be Morgoran!”

A wicked grin emerged on the old wielder’s lips. “Clever boy, I would probably jump to the same conclusion in your place, but I assure you, I am Morgoran. The same Morgoran cursed with damnable clear eyes; the same Morgoran sitting drooling in his soup, confused, senile, and doomed to see only possible futures for season after season.” He pointed his finger. “I have seen you, Dorenn Adair of Brookhaven, for far too long!” He let loose a bolt of lightning, and Dorenn dove out of the way.

The creature from behind Morgoran moved. It came directly for him. He glanced over at
Dranmalin
, trying to will the sword to come to him, but it still did not recognize him and stayed where it was. The Brae Daun Duil reached down, pulled up Dorenn by his shoulders, and tossed him to the stone opening in the mountain. The cold wind blew dry snow in swirls across the stone platform, and he shivered. His left arm screamed in pain, and he was sure it must have been broken. “Morgoran, you must have learned by now that Toborne isn’t who you think he is. He is evil.”

“Toborne!” Morgoran shouted the name with contempt. “Toborne is next! I wouldn’t let that betrayer have his way anymore than I would you.”

“I am not the one who cursed you! Why are you punishing me for it?”

Morgoran stopped for a moment. His face distorted into an angry scowl that said Dorenn was asking a foolish question. “Because if I don’t stop you now, you will!”

“What?” Dorenn was livid. “You are doing this because I might do something to you in a possible future?” Dorenn pushed himself up. The Brae Daun Duil was slowly striding toward him. “Something here is off. If you are Morgoran and you want to kill Toborne, then how come Toborne’s creation is attacking me and not you?” The creature reached for Dorenn and lifted him straight up. Dorenn let him despite the pain of the grip the creature exerted. He reached out, working through the pain in his left arm, and grabbed the creatures head in both hands. He could feel the power of his mind flow through his body, through his hands, and into the creature’s head.