The Compass Key (Book 5) (22 page)

“Maybe you should speak to Cyril.”

“Are you too busy?”

“No, but he is the expert on these things.”

The roses suddenly fire their thorns at Timoran’s feet, forcing the barbarian to leap to the side. His shadow is stuck to the ground where it bubbles like hot tar. Willow is about to cast a spell at the disgusting mass when it erupts in an explosion of black fire. The flames race around the courtyard, destroying the garden that the Lady of Rainbow Tower has spent years cultivating. She summons her glowing staff and slams it into the ground, creating a barrier around the base of the tower and the survivors of her gardens. The fire licks at her magic shields as it coalesces into a single form standing a few feet away from the legendary caster.

“I always wanted to test myself against you,” Trinity
says once her body is solid and whole. With a stomp of her foot, a wave of magic ripples toward Willow and splinters the ground around her. Another stomp launches the chunk of earth backwards, smashing the powerful caster and the stone through the base of Rainbow Tower. “That wasn’t very impressive, old woman. I guess I know why you retired.”

Timoran yells as he charges at
the chaos elf, easily ducking under a blast of lightning. Now that he is out in the open and there are no hostages to keep him at bay, the barbarian is able to battle with all of his primal strength. Trinity is hard-pressed to stay out of his axe’s reach by gracefully leaping and dancing away. She flings several attack spells that are batted out of the way by Timoran.

“Thanks for letting me in,” she taunts. The only response is a growl from the enraged barbarian. “If only you got me through the front door
like I hoped.”

Trinity backs into the wall and Timoran immediately rushes her with his great axe held high. She dissipates before the weapon can cleave her in two, her mist-like form slowly drifting away. Battling against the wind, she rises to the top of the wall where she returns to her solid form. Timoran is already climbing the wall, holding the handle of his axe within his off-white teeth. Jamming her hands into the wall, Trinity has bricks repeatedly jut out
hoping to push the barbarian to the ground. Instead, he grabs one of the large bricks and violently yanks it out of the wall. The stone is hurled into the top of the wall, knocking the chaos elf into the air. Her arms are frozen from the shock of being forcefully removed from the stone.

The caster’s
descent stops a few inches from the ground, her eyes glowing with a furious light. “I’m done playing with you, wild man.”

The section of wall in front of the chaos elf shakes as she sees Timoran reach the top and prepare to jump at her. With a high-pitched shriek,
she blows up the section of wall and sends the warrior flying back into the remains of a small tree. Trinity walks through the wreckage and covers her body in raw, pulsing magic.

“Attack the barbarian!” General Vile orders as he hurries through the
opening in the wall. A group of ten chaos elves rush by him and charge Timoran.

At the same time as the chaos elves and
the barbarian crash into each other, a bolt of crimson lightning lances out of the hole in Rainbow Tower. The force of the spell shoves Trinity back, leaving gouges in the ground, but her magical barrier protects her from the actual damage. Before she is pushed into the wall, she spins and sends the spell into the upper level of Rainbow Tower. The explosion shakes the entire building and rains powdered stones upon the decimated garden. The charred remains of a toy griffin lands at Trinity’s feet and she kicks it out of her way. With a lick of her lips, she watches as Cyril floats out of the hole and aims his black staff at her.

“I hope you’re str
onger than your wife,” she says as raw power coils around her limbs. She hurls a fist of magic at Cyril, who is pushed against the tower by the force of the spell. “You can take a hit at least.”

“You won’t
reach my daughter.”

“It’s not your decision, old man.”

“You can’t win. Even Nyx has yet to defeat me.”

Trinity rolls her eyes and yawns. “That’s because she holds back.”

Reaching out with both hands, the chaos elf closes her eyes and focuses on Cyril’s magical barrier. Her fingers turn into black talons and she moves them like she is slamming them into something solid. She opens her eyes when she hears Cyril’s startled yell and watches him fight against his own barriers. Slowly pushing her hands together, she attempts to crush him with his own aura. Trinity can feel him about die when the hurled corpse of a chaos elf crashes into her and breaks her concentration. The veteran caster collapses to the ground in an unconscious heap.

“Get into that tower!” Vile shout
s as he charges at Timoran.

Trin
ity can see that only one of her loyal soldiers is left standing, the others nothing more than meat at the barbarian’s face. For the briefest moment, she is filled with a rage that nearly drives her to join the fight, but she reminds herself that her men would want her to continue with the plan. With a burst of wind behind her, she races into Rainbow Tower and disappears up a flight of stairs.

“Now for our real fight,”
the halfling says. He holds his shortsword and dagger tightly while watching his enemy behead the last chaos elf.

Vile darts at Timoran, but dives to the side to avoid the wide sweep of the barbarian’s weapon. He tries again and slides under the attack, his blades comin
g dangerously close to the barbarian’s heel. The only reason Vile misses is because Timoran jumps and tries to come down with the pommel of his axe. The seasoned soldier rolls out of the way, taking the large man’s leg out from underneath him. The halfling flips to his feet and pounces to keep up his advantage. His blades start to pierce Timoran’s thick skin, but the large warrior violently twists and shakes the small warrior off. The world moves in slow motion as Vile watches the side of the great axe swing at him, knocking him several yards away.

“I hate barbarians,”
General Vile mutters, getting to his feet. He is surprised to see that Timoran is headed for Rainbow Tower instead of continuing the battle. “Guess he isn’t as far gone as I thought.”

The halfling
hurls his dagger at Timoran, the weapon sinking into the warrior’s hand and causing him to drop his axe in surprise. With amazing speed, Vile charges and leaps onto the barbarian, his shortsword driving toward his enemy’s heart. His attack is stopped a hair away from striking by Timoran grabbing his arms in one hand. Wrapping his legs around his opponent’s other arm, Vile makes sure he is more difficult to throw off.

“I’ve taken out ogres bigger than you, barbarian.”

“Ogres are not nearly as dangerous as my people.”

“That’s an odd boast.”

“I speak the truth.”

“Calming down, are we?”

Timoran spins and slams Vile into the ground. “Yes, but that should worry you. Now, I can think before I attack.”

“Such a benefit won’t help you,” the halfling growls. He rolls out of Timoran’s grasp, slashing the big man’s arm as he escapes. “I haven’t fought for so long to be taken out by a savage.”

Timoran swipes at the halfling to force him away, giving the large man time to get to his feet. He immediately feels his knees buckle and his arms ache. The wicked grin on Vile’s face tells him that something is wrong. His eyes fall upon the fresh cut on his arm and he smells a faint toxic aroma hidden behind the seeping blood. A guttural growl grows in his throat and his rage returns full force.

“You don’t have long before your strength deserts you,” Vile announces. He takes a defensive stance with his shortsword held out, daring the barbarian to charge him. “I will give you one chance to run away.”

Timoran charges at his enemy, ducking low enough to stare the shorter man in the eye. His legs burn as he fights against the strength-sapping poison. Vile lunges forward when the grinning barbarian gets in reach, but the barbarian vaults over the smaller warrior. Whirling around, Timoran grabs the halfling by the leg and slams him into the ground. The shortsword slices into his hand, the pain easily ignored by the furious warrior.

“Not a smart move,”
Vile declares, flipping out of the tight hold. He is surprised when he feels Timoran ram into his back and charge forward. He kicks his legs to try to escape, but he is pressed to the rampaging barbarian’s shoulder.

“Never anger a barbarian!” Timoran roars as he nears the wall.

Brick and mortar fill Vile’s mouth when both warriors barrel through the wall. The halfling takes the brunt of the impact, his armor barely able to prevent him from being crushed to death. They collapse on the other side of the wall and Vile feebly raises his shortsword to stab his enemy in the head. Like a startled beast, Timoran leaps to his feet and spins with his hands wrapped around the general’s legs. A wordless scream of anger erupts from Vile as he is hurled over the nearby buildings. He lands on the far rooftop, skids down to the edge, and topples into a garbage-filled alley with a satisfying crash.

“As long as I draw breath, I will fight,” Timoran whispers to the distant halfling. He falls to his knees and stares at Rainbow Tower. “I pray to you, Kerr the Rage Lord. Please give me the strength to
reach my friend.”

*****

With the afternoon sun in front of them, Luke and Delvin relax on the defensive wall. A few guards cautiously watch them from an archer turret, but they are too busy enjoying the free dinner they had received from the pair. With his legs dangling over the street, Luke enjoys the feeling of solid ground beneath his back. He is starting to fall asleep when a waterskin is dropped on his stomach. He lazily glances up at Delvin, who grins and holds out the completed Map of Depth.

“Drink some water,
Lucy. Your lips are dry and cracked,” the brown-haired warrior politely points out as he goes back to examining the layers of the Map of Depth. “That bard’s memory is amazing. We finished this in a day. I’m sure we’ll have the Compass Key before lunch tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Luke quietly responds. Still lying down, he takes a long drink from the waterskin and wipes his mouth with his
sleeve.

“We can probably save Sari by dinner
.”

“Probably.”

Delvin eyes the forest tracker as he tucks the map into his belt. “Then we can hand her over to the chaos elves for a big reward.”

“If you say so.”

“Unless I decide to kill you and claim her for myself.”

“Nyx would destroy you,” Luke states, looking at
his friend with a blank expression.

“So you were listening,” Delvin says, sighing and scratching his head. “Guess we need some quiet time.”

He looks out to the noisy city, his eyes falling on a group of children playing tag in the alleys. A few of the kids wave to him and he returns the gesture with a smile. One little boy makes the gesture of drawing a sword from its scabbard and emphatically points at Delvin. The warrior chuckles before drawing his longsword and holding it up to reflect the sunlight. With a squeal of excitement, the children go back to their game of tag, but this time they occasionally stop to hold up imaginary blades.

“The griffins want me to lead them in an attack on the chaos elves,” Luke explains, sitting up to watch the kids. “There is a storm coming tomorrow night and the griffins can manipulate the lightning. They can only do this if they leave the riders behind, so they need me to guide them since I know strategy. For some reason, they’ll listen to me.”

“Sounds like a great plan,” Delvin says as he takes back the waterskin. “So, what’s the problem?”

“Some of the griffins are hard to control and
think all of the ships hold enemies. They don’t understand the concept of hostages. I don’t think I can rein them in, especially if the chaos elves attack,” Luke answers. He jumps at the sound of a griffin screech and looks up to see Gracewing flying overhead. “That’s the leader of the griffins, but he doesn’t know how to make sure the others attack the right ships. He says they need a high symbol or target like a flag or something. It’s strange because these griffins stay far away from ships for some reason. None of them will explain it to me, which is frustrating.”

The griffin swoops low and Culverk grins at Delvin. “Did you lose your griffin, Cunningham?”

“He saw a deer that he wanted to eat, so he dumped me off here,” the former mercenary replies with a nod toward the forest. “I’m sure he’ll be back soon enough.”

“Him? I thought your griffin was female,” Culverk says, his eyebrow arched in curiosity.

“Sorry about that. I’m still new to this, so I keep forgetting,” Delvin apologizes, elbowing Luke, who is chuckling at the mistake. “You’d think I’d remember Lucy is a girl with her name and the fact that she is as moody as a real woman. Worse if you ask me. I can never tell when she’s going to get upset over the smallest issue.”

“Well, you might want to get her back and hit the air
. The chaos elves are showing a lot more activity around their boats. We’re preparing for anything, but we hope it’s a sign that they’re going to leave.”

Delvin gets to his feet, his eyes briefly falling on
the forest tracker who is staring toward the docks. “I ran into a problem with Lucy that I thought you could help me with. I flew out over the ocean and went near one of our ships. She got really scared and gave it a wide berth. Have you ever seen this before?”