Fate Rides Wicked: Volume I of the Lerilon Trilogy (50 page)

The man in front of Tych screamed in rage and began
to transform. “How did you know? I had you dead!”

As the demon appeared before him, Tych said, “If
frozen in time for five thousand years and recently released,
you wouldn’t know about Rangdor and you would be badly
weakened. You are the real illusionist around here and the
dragon was only supposed to do your work for you.”

A very rare, very powerful demon now stood before
him. He looked human but for the burnt-red skin and the
horns protruding from his head. The beast’s cloak
disappeared and the prince could see the creature’s two
toed feet. A sword of flame appeared in the demon’s hand
as Tych began to drive the kruckat demon towards the back
of the cave. Gaylin crackled with energy as the two swords
met, resisting the heat that would have melted ordinary
blades in half.

The kruckat grunted angrily as the xadineft slayer
stayed solid. He began a furious rain of blows, driving
Tych back. The prince held against each strike, but he
stepped back each time. Then his heel struck a protruding
piece of stone and he fell, Gaylin falling from his hands.
With a sweep of his hand, the kruckat demon sent the steel
blade into a wall, where it stuck like a spear.

The endaril rolled to his left, but the demon’s blade
landed. He screamed in agony as he scrambled away and
regained his feet. Clutching at the searing pain in his cut
right arm, he tried to figure out how to get to Gaylin with
the demon between him and the blade. The kruckat
charged furiously. Tych summoned energy as best he
could and hid it. As the fire came towards him in a long
sweeping blow, the prince released enough energy in its
path for it to bounce back.

Tych turned himself into a weapon of energy. Knowing
ordinary blows wouldn’t harm the demon, the endaril sent
little bursts of energy to each point of contact as he used his
fists and feet. He clamped the sword arm of the kruckat
and placed a right cross in his face. As the demon reached
for the offending hand, the prince spun and kicked the
torso. His opponent reeling from the force of the blows,
Tych placed a second hand on the sword arm and used a
large amount of energy to throw the creature to a distant
wall. In another burst he teleported to Gaylin and ripped
her out.

The demon stood. The flame sword disappeared and he
began towards Tych. The prince raised his left arm and
pointed. A stream of energy raced towards the demon. As
he expected, the kruckat responded with his own energy to
hold it off. Ignoring the pain in his arm, Tych turned
Gaylin like a spear and threw it along the line of the energy
stream. With the sparks flying where the two energies met,
the creature failed to see the sword and took it in the chest.
It buried to the hilt and Tych’s beam switched to the blade.
With screams of agony the demon slowly burned, too
wounded to stop the energy. In an explosion the kruckat
vanished and Gaylin flew into the case around the frozen
endaril.

Tych shielded his face from flying pieces of glass as
Gaylin clattered to the floor. For a moment, a bright light
filled the cavern and he couldn’t look. Then all went black
and the endaril looked in the direction of the huddled figure
on the floor. Desiring intensely to leave, he strode over to
his sword and picked it up, sheathing it as he continued.
He bent and helped the newly awakened stranger to his
feet. The endarils started up the tunnel and Tych realized
his arm wound had been cauterized by the heat and energy
as he pushed the stranger up the small passage.

The commanders woke from a deep slumber. They all
at first thought they had been in a bad dream, but when
they looked at the armor and weapons they wore, all pirated
from the dragon’s wealth, they knew it had been real. The
infirmary baked in the midday sun, so they knew they had
no injuries or they would not be so heavily dressed. The
tent flap swung lightly in a breeze and they could see Tych
and another endaril sitting outside it.

Findra stood up first, curious about the identity of the
strange endaril. As she made her way to the front of the
tent, Tych noticed and stood, leading his companion in.
The mendar commander said, “Who is this, Tych?”

The prince smiled. “This is Oaktree. This is my six
great grandfather, the most powerful magician of his time.”

In seconds all who knew the legends of the creation of
the thrandrils from the saving of the credarils had weapons
drawn and ready. “It’s an imposter,” shouted Findra,
starting forward.

“Stay your hands, hasty ones!” Energy crackled from
Tych’s hands and he held Findra in her tracks. Her feet and
arms couldn’t move but she could hear and speak. “I
assure you he is no imposter. I have tested him myself. I
found him frozen in a stasis chamber. Do you all
remember when I left the cavern?”

“We only wondered for a moment,” said Andri. “Then
we began retrieving this weaponry from the treasure pile.
The last thing I remember is all of us sitting around waiting
for you, then falling asleep.”

“The sleep is my fault, for I drew all of your energy to
fight a kruckat demon.” Again the knowledgeable
members caught their breaths. “He is who impersonated
Morg and stole you away, but he will not be able to return
to this plane for five or six thousand more years.”

“I am convinced,” said Findra, and Tych released her.
Dropping to one knee she added, “Forgive me, My Lords,
if I have offended you.”

“Do not despair, my child,” said Oaktree, in endaril. “I
forgive you. I have never seen your youngest cousins,
before Tych rescued me and brought me here three days
ago. All the daril armies are here and you had best go lead
yours.”

“Three days!” blurted Findra.

Before the others could react, Tych said, “Yes, I feared
I took too much energy when I first found you, but it took
all this sleep for you to return to full strength. I helped with
some of your slumber, to keep you asleep. Now, to those
who do not speak endaril, go back to your commands.”

Each commander said, “Yes, My Lord. To your
health,” as they left with a smile. As Tendelbro left, Zif
surprised him and lifted him up. The two friends walked
off in a profound state of mirth.

Greentree put her fingers in her ears. The constant
arguing drove her crazy, mostly because she couldn’t hear a
word the wizards said. For the first month after Tych had
brought Oaktree here, the old men had gotten along. She
had realized for the first time, as something heavy hit a
wall, that the fighting started as soon as the newcomer had
been brought up to date. Now that the topic turned to
magic, they could never agree.

She breathed a sigh of relief when they stopped a few
minutes later. The queen of the endarils decided to find out
the source of the argument, and started towards the stairs.
The empty room shocked her. Books lay all over the floor
and not one wizard could be seen. Almost immediately she
saw the note on the otherwise empty table.

We have gone to an expert to resolve an argument. We
don’t know how long we’ll be absent.

Corl”

Greentree knew exactly where they had gone.
Whenever they wanted to resolve an argument, they went
to the wisest person in Li: Lendril. As she went to find
Morg, the queen broke into laughter. She couldn’t help but
find the situation amusing.

“You did not say that,” yelled Oaktree.

“Yes, I...”

Tych interrupted his grandfather. “Stop! Just tell us

Corl sheepishly answered, “Which king is the thirteenth
link in the circle.”

Tych started laughing uncontrollably, and even normal
laughter was rare for him. Lendril answered, since they
came to see her anyway. “What does it matter? The
prophecy says there will be a Circle of Thirteen. There are
any number of combinations to make that number, but it
seems that most of the time prophecies like this get
fulfilled. Just wait and see.”

“Not to be disrespectful,” Tych said as he regained his
composure, “but you two are amazing. Corl, you know as
well as anybody that prophesies don’t change the way
things happen, so what’s the point listening to them or
arguing about them. Those that listen act rashly and end up
playing a part in the prophecy whether they want to or not.
And, Oaktree, you have no basis to analyze what is
happening. When you were last conscious, there were no
humans, neftir, forangen or any other races besides the
darils and dragons. You came to us for our knowledge of
humans in order to resolve the political end of it. Am I
right?”

Corl nodded. “We had hoped Lendril could advise us
as to what the humans might do.”

Lendril laughed. “I have no more concept than Oaktree
did the moment he woke. That is the nature of this life.
Perhaps Doleof would be more sympathetic to your
concerns and be a better being to consult. I’m afraid we
feel you should just stick to the project of restoring the
magic of Oaktree’s day and finding a place for it today.”

“Again, you have given us a swift kick. We will visit
Doleof.” Oaktree and Corl left. Lendril and Tych could
hear the argument pick up again just before they vanished.

The dragon yelled, “SILENCE!” and the cave shook.
“You two should not be here again. I do put stock in
prophecies, but if my three thousand years have taught me
anything it is that, with humans, anything is possible. As
for your magic, you come from two different magic ages.
The magic of this day, Corl’s, is more powerful, but has
lost some of the knowledge Oaktree used in his day. Teach
it, try to combine it, but for all our sakes try to be a team,
not adversaries.”

“You are also wise, Doleof. It is hard when you get
two personalities like ours together. We’ll start doing
something more productive than arguing,” said Corl as he
sat down on the rock ledge Tych had bled on almost a year
ago.

“Yes, we will. The most immediate beneficiary will be
Cert, since she is just starting to learn.”

Doleof raised his head high in surprise. “Is Cert a
female?” Corl nodded, confused by the dragon’s sudden
uneasiness. “I had hoped she would not appear this soon. I
wish I had known about her sooner.” He paused in thought
and lowered his head to a reasonable height. “We don’t
usually reveal the future, those of us that can see it,
so I’ll say only this. Focus your energies on her. Be
more intensive with her than with any pupil before.”

Greentree felt both concern and happiness about Cert’s
new importance to the wizards. She didn’t like the fact that
her first daughter’s life stood in danger, but she felt glad
that the princess now felt more part of the war. She also
enjoyed the relative silence, now that the two endarils
fought less. It had been hard for her to concentrate during
her workouts and Morg’s creations frequently bettered her.

Morg snapped his queen out of thought and ended her
break with a new opponent. A sphere about as wide as the
warrior with sixteen, four-inch spikes swept past her.
Greentree fell over backwards and cast a playful sneer at
her husband. The sphere rushed towards her as Morg
laughed and the fighter rolled away at the last possible
moment. Continuing her motion, she pushed herself onto
her feet and took a defensive stance. Her “opponent” rose
up and rushed, but Greentree easily knocked it aside and
cut it. The sphere approached slower, then struck suddenly.
The queen of the endarils barely avoided the sphere but
brought her sword around fast enough to impale it in flight.
The target vanished and two forangen appeared.

In the tower above her mother, Cert practiced
something totally different. The magician had been
learning spell memorization for two days with a game
called ‘Pihipt.’ The game cleared all blocks in the mind
that might limit memorization ability. In it, a modified ESP
spell discovers hindrances and manifests them as creatures.
For each creature she defeated, which meant putting the
concern out of her mind for the time being, she earned
more free time.

These first few, the wizards would give her advice. The
princess confronted her first block, a problem with a suitor.
The creature appeared as a very large xadineft.

“The size of the creature is directly related to the size of
the problem. Speak the problem,” helped Corl.

“I must decide how important a suitor is to me.”

“Why is that a problem?”

“I don’t think you or my parents would approve of
him.”

“You must get past this Cert. Tell us the reason we
wouldn’t approve. As long as this is on your mind, your
memorization will suffer.”

The princess paused a long time as the imaginary
xadineft came towards her. “He is human.”

At this Corl launched himself out of his chair, broke the
spell and yelled, “What!”

“A human has been courting me. He wants me to
become his lover. I want to agree to his request but I didn’t
think you would approve.”

“You’re right, I don’t approve! Who is it?” Corl’s eyes
flashed with fury and his face flushed red. Oaktree just sat
quietly and watched. He knew of the tensions but not that
they ran this deep.

“Nandel,” answered Cert bluntly.

The princess felt encouraged as the red left Corl’s face.
“When did this start?”

“Tych sent us out into Murlanak to retrieve Sir Xalt’s
sword. We fell in love.”

“Nandel is the only human I might ever approve of, but
I haven’t decided yet. Do you realize humans require a
formal ceremony and acknowledgment of love? They
would frown on the daril customs when it comes to the
bonding of lovers and friends.”