Frostborn: The Broken Mage (37 page)

The Mhorite warriors separated them, rushing to the aid of their shaman. Ridmark retreated as four Mhorite warriors attacked, slashing with swords and axes. He parried a sword blow aimed for his head, ducked under an axe, and crushed a Mhorite’s throat with a sharp blow from his staff. A sword bounced off his stomach, and another opened a cut upon his left leg, and Ridmark stumbled. The Mhorites pursued him for the kill, and then the floor rippled around him. Morigna’s earth magic knocked over the Mhorites. Ridmark seized the opening and killed two Mhorites in quick succession, but more warriors charged into the gap. Mournacht himself pursued, pushing aside his warriors to get at Ridmark, his black axe burning anew with his dark magic. 

White fire flashed against the bloody fire of Mournacht’s power, and Gavin and Arandar charged into the fray. Mournacht roared and withdrew, slipping back to a defensive posture. The soulblades had taught Mournacht caution. He had been strong enough to fight the Traveler to a standstill, but even the Traveler had feared the soulblades carried by the Swordbearers of Andomhaim. 

Kharlacht and Caius joined the battle, and the melee swirled through the wreckage of the Vault as the bearer of shadow and the Keeper of Andomhaim unleashed their powers at one another.

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“I think I can get behind him,” said Mara, taking a deep breath. “If I surprise him…”

“No!” said Antenora, her staff beginning to burn again. “The bearer of shadow is too well warded from attack. A soulblade would penetrate his wards, but even a blade of dark elven steel would not.” She shook her head, her dark cowl rustling. “If you stand too close to him, the Keeper’s power might well destroy you by mistake.”

Morigna had to admit that seemed likely.

Ridmark, Gavin, Arandar, Kharlacht, and Caius fought with vigor, attacking the Mhorites that swarmed around them. Mournacht hung back, bellowing commands to his warriors. He no longer seemed as eager to engage Ridmark. Likely he hoped to avoid the killing fire of the soulblades. It was a ferocious, bloody fight, with Mhorite after Mhorite falling to the skill of Ridmark and the others. 

Yet it seemed like a tiny thing compared to the fury snarling back and forth between Calliande and Shadowbearer. 

Calliande attacked, and she no longer wielded just the power of the Well. Now she also struck with blasts of elemental fire similar to Antenora’s magic, but with far more focus and precision. The Keeper unleashed attacks of elemental stone, the floor exploding beneath Shadowbearer, or gales of elemental wind to drive back the ancient archmage. Even with all that, Calliande still attacked with blasts of the Well’s white fire. Ardrhythain and the Warden had been more powerful, but Morigna had never seen a human unleash such a display of magical prowess as Calliande did now, not even the Old Man himself. 

It frightened her a little. 

Shadowbearer frightened her much more.

The bearer of shadow defended himself with savage fury, conjuring blasts of ghostly blue fire and lances of darkness to attack the Keeper. Even without casting the spell to sense the presence of magical forces, Morigna felt the raw power of those attacks. Those spells should have shattered Calliande’s wards, killed her instantly, and left her and everything around her for a hundred yards reduced to lifeless ash. Yet her wards held firm beneath the assault.

And to Morigna’s astonishment, Shadowbearer seemed unable to ward himself from Calliande’s attacks. Whenever Calliande’s spells touched his wards, they collapsed like paper. To defend himself, Shadowbearer interposed objects between him and Calliande – stone benches, chests of dwarven steel, even the corpses of dead Mhorites. Whenever Calliande attacked him, whether with white fire or elemental flame or fists of stone that reached from the ground, he stopped his attacks and used invisible force to pull something to use as a makeshift shield. 

“I think,” said Jager, his voice awed. He had fallen back to protect Mara and the others. “I think she’s winning.”

“How?” said Morigna. “Calliande’s magic is not strong enough, even with the staff of the Keeper.” 

“The power of the Keeper is potent,” said Antenora.

“That’s not it,” said Mara. “Her magic…the magic of Shadowbearer cannot resist it. I think it is because the power of the Keeper originated upon Old Earth. It is alien to the magic of this world. Shadowbearer’s power cannot stand against it.”

“Why does Shadowbearer not simply drop the soulstone and travel away?” said Jager. “Tarrabus and the other Enlightened said he could travel from place to place in an instant.”

“He should,” said Mara, and her green eyes widened. “He won’t! He’s spent too long trying to reclaim the soulstone, and he won’t let it go now. He needs it, but he cannot escape so long as he holds it. We have to find a way to help Calliande!”

“How?” said Morigna. Blue fire contested against white, thunder and the screams of battle echoing through the Vault.

“This is Calliande’s chance to kill Shadowbearer!” said Mara. “He founded the Enlightened. He trained your Old Man. He’s trying to summon the Frostborn. If Calliande kills him now, it all ends!”

“I do not dispute your logic,” said Morigna, “but one wonders how we can possibly help! This is beyond my skill. We should aid Ridmark and the others instead.” So far they were holding their own against Mournacht and his guards, but the shaman had begun flinging spells into the battle. Every time he did, Gavin or Arandar had to use their soulblades’ power to deflect the spell, allowing the Mhorites to gain another few steps. Very soon the Mhorites would encircle them, and the battle would end after that. 

“No,” said Antenora. “The lady of shadows speaks truly. If we defeat Shadowbearer, the Keeper can crush the orcish shaman in a matter of moments.”

“Mara and I will assist Ridmark,” said Jager. “You two are the sorceresses, you figure out how to help Calliande. If Mara or I tried, we’d be dead in three seconds.”

Mara nodded and followed Jager as he sprinted across the open space. She flickered into blue fire and reappeared behind a Mhorite, hamstringing him with a quick slash of her sword. Jager finished off the Mhorite warrior with a casual stab, and the two of them went on the attack, causing chaos among the Mhorites struggling against Ridmark and the others. Morigna wondered what their courtship must have been like. Had Jager invited her to come rob a nobleman? Or had Mara asked his help for an assassination?

She pushed aside the thought. Fatigue was making her light-headed, her thoughts scattering at random. 

“Now,” said Antenora, pointing her staff. “Let us strike as one.” 

Morigna nodded and gestured, forcing her weary will to call more earth magic. A soft whisper in her mind suggested using dark magic against Shadowbearer, but she rejected that idea at once. Trying to use dark magic against him would have been like trying to put out a forest fire with a lit candle. Instead she called a pillar of acidic mist that wreathed him like a bank of cloud, and Antenora flung a fireball that exploded against him with a booming roar.

Neither spell did anything. Morigna’s mist sputtered and dissolved against Shadowbearer’s wards, while Antenora’s fire crackled into smoke. For a moment Morigna feared Shadowbearer would direct his wrath against them, but the corrupted archmage did not even look away from the Keeper. Calliande held his full attention and concentration. Even as Morigna watched, Calliande sent another lance of white fire at Shadowbearer, only for a stone table to leap from the floor and block the attack, coins flying in all directions.

A stone table…

Morigna blinked as an idea came to her. She could not batter down Shadowbearer’s wards. She could not even hurt him. She could, however, command the element of stone.

And those tables were made of stone.

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Ridmark beat aside the thrust of a Mhorite sword, ignoring the throbbing pain in his shoulders and chest. The Mhorite warrior came on, and Ridmark retreated, letting the orc pursue him. At last the Mhorite stumbled over the outstretched arm of a dead Anathgrimm warrior, and Ridmark drove his staff forward, crushing the warrior’s throat. The Mhorite fell, choking and gagging, and joined his comrades upon the floor.

Between the dead orcs, the blood, the rubble, and the melted patches of gold, the footing was becoming increasingly treacherous. 

Blue fire flashed behind another Mhorite, and Mara appeared behind the warrior, driving her short sword into his armpit. The Mhorite bellowed and jerked free of the blade, turning to face her, and Ridmark swung his staff. The length of black wood struck the Mhorite’s head, the shock traveling up Ridmark’s arms and into his shoulders, and the Mhorite went limp and joined to the growing collection of corpses upon the floor. 

Mournacht roared and thrust his axe, and shadows and crimson fire leapt from its massive blades. Gavin moved to defend, raising Truthseeker, and a shell of white light shimmered around him. An instant later Mournacht’s spell of dark magic struck him, his power snarling and clawing against the soulblade’s protection. Mournacht’s power proved no contest against the might of the soulblade, but it did force Gavin to stop.

The Mhorite warriors closed around Gavin, hoping to take down a Swordbearer. Ridmark rushed to defend him, collapsing a Mhorite’s skull with his staff and tripping a second warrior, bringing his weapon around in time to deflect a sword thrust that would otherwise have taken him in the throat. Arandar rushed to Gavin’s aid, swinging Heartwarden with enough power that the soulblade took off a Mhorite’s head with a single mighty blow. Mournacht bellowed a spell, and another bolt of shadow-wreathed fire leaped from his axe. Arandar spun, Heartwarden blazing as the soulblade protected him from the killing wrath of the spell. The charging Mhorite warriors shifted to attack Arandar, and Gavin released his own protections, coming to attack. Truthseeker’s power gave him speed and strength, and he beheaded one Mhorite and took the sword arm from another. Ridmark joined the attack, and killed three Mhorites in quick succession, while Jager and Mara caused chaos and Kharlacht and Caius fought in skillful unison. 

They were holding their own, but it would not last. For every warrior that Ridmark killed, ten more could take their place. More Mhorites stormed through the doors from the Citadel of Kings, pressing into the Vault. Ridmark supposed all the Anathgrimm must have fled, driven into despair by the death of their false god. With no Anathgrimm and no Traveler to distract them, Mournacht and his warriors could turn their full attention to Ridmark and his friends. 

And since they believed that Shadowbearer was Mhor, they would fight with all the more ferocity.

Ridmark risked a glance back, saw Calliande still locked in her duel with Shadowbearer, magic snarling back and forth between them. Then another pair of Mhorite warriors came at him, and Ridmark could spare her no further attention if he wanted to survive. 

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Calliande felt her strength wavering. 

Even with the power of the Keeper augmenting her magic, even with her full skills and knowledge restored, she still was exhausted. She had already been exhausted when she had passed through the golden doors of Dragonfall, and the fight with the Devourer had drained her further. Shadowbearer had been rested before this fight, and he had far more experience wielding magic than she did. Furthermore, he had no choice but to stand and fight. When she had fought him before, centuries earlier, he had withdrawn rather than risk defeat. Now, though, he had no choice but to fight. 

A fight he might be able to win by sheer attrition.

Calliande gritted her teeth, deflecting one of his spells and flinging a shaft of fire at him. She could not yield, not now, not after so many had sacrificed so much so she could stop Shadowbearer. Her plan, the work of centuries, hinged upon this moment. 

Another stone table heaved itself from the floor and intercepted her bolt of fire, coins scattering in all directions. 

Shadowbearer’s wards might be useless against the Keeper’s power…but Calliande could not seem to hit him. 

A volley of writhing, twisting shadows shot at her, and Calliande waved her staff before her, summoning a ward to turn them aside. Again Shadowbearer’s dark magic crumbled against her defense, but the effort strained her, and the spell sputtered a bit. Again she called on elemental fire, her free hand crackling with yellow-orange light, and she infused the fire with the power of the Keeper and the magic of the Well. The shaft ripped from her hand with a howl, and Shadowbearer smirked again as he gestured, another table ripping from the floor to block the attack. 

But this time, Calliande’s Sight detected a spell of earth magic.

The spell sank into the table as it tumbled, and Morigna’s magic made the table fold and ripple, just as it did when she used the spell to trip charging warriors. 

It made the table fold just enough that Calliande’s shaft of fire slashed across the left side of Shadowbearer’s face and chest. 

The corrupted archmage stumbled back with a horrified scream, both his voices furious, his free hand clutched to the left side of his face. Calliande did not hesitate, but leveled her staff, drawing upon all the power of the Keeper and all the magic of the Well. The staff shone like a shaft of white-hot metal, and a lance of white fire launched from it and struck Shadowbearer. The fury of the spell threw him backwards, and she glimpsed the charred ruin of the left side of his face, his damaged features twisted in rage. He struggled against the spell, his shadow whipping back and forth, and for a moment Calliande was sure that she had him. 

Shadowbearer screamed and thrust his free hand over his head, blazing blue fire erupting from his fingers. The spell missed Calliande entirely.

It did, however, strike the arched ceiling, ripping through the dwarven stonework. A booming crack echoed through the Vault, and tons of stone fell from ceiling with a roar.

Something hard clipped the side of Calliande’s head, and everything went black. 

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