The Last Enchanter (29 page)

Marcus struggled to his feet. He felt lightheaded and fought off the dizziness that seized him. He watched as Prost grew pale, his body trembling.

“You might as well kill me,” said Prost, gasping for
breath. “If you do not, I will kill you!”

Before Marcus could respond, Prost shot out his hand, his bony fingers reaching out like withered branches on a vine. The blue snakes flew across the room, twisting around Lael. She screamed as Prost bent his wrist and pulled her close. She struggled against his power but to no avail. She let go of Bryn, pushing him away from her to safety. And within seconds, she was in Prost's grasp.

Seventy-seven

B
ryn, who had been obediently watching from the far doorway, screamed Lael's name. The boy arched his back, preparing to attack. Marcus was again awed at the transformation from boy to beast. Bryn's childish frame mutated in mere seconds, then exploded forth in a terrible rage. Prost lifted not a finger, merely raising an eyebrow as if amused. His magic lifted the groc high into the air. Bryn writhed and twisted, helpless as a fragile sparrow, then slammed onto the floor. By the force of the impact, Marcus knew Bryn had not merely fallen, but that Prost had thrown him down. The monster's figure returned to that of a child who lay whimpering and fearful on the floor.

Marcus could no longer bear to see his friends suffer. He would end this somehow, no matter what it took. He started toward Prost, but the old man held up his hand, fingers spread wide apart, blue light sparking between them. Behind him the giant, stained-glass window shook violently. It suddenly burst into thousands of dagger-like shards that shot forward, filling the throne room with a hailstorm of glass. Kelvin threw his body over Kaië, while Jayson held up his thick cloak to protect them from the assault. Bryn, however, lay in the open.

Marcus leapt forward, positioning himself between Bryn and the flying glass. Placing his palms out in front of him, he focused all his attention massive gusts of air to divert the shards toward the sides of the room. He was successful, and he and Bryn were unharmed. The guards and Eliha the Agoran, however, were not so fortunate. When the assault was over, they lay dead in pools of their own blood.

By this time, more guards—dozens of them—began filing into the room with weapons raised. Kelvin stood and brushed the fragments of glass from his clothes.

“It's over, Prost!” he shouted. “I'm still king, and I command you to give yourself to these guards.”

“Never!” Prost shouted.

In his arms, Lael writhed. Prost's eyes rolled back grotesquely as he placed his fingertips on the skin of her neck. The current of magic coursed through her body, making her shake violently. Marcus knew what Prost was doing. It was the same thing Marcus had done for Kelvin and Zyll
had done for him—only Prost was using Lael's life force to heal himself. Suddenly, Marcus felt more rage than he had ever known, and he screamed so that every cell in his body threatened to explode.

“Stop!” he shouted. Then, gathering more energy than he had ever dreamed possible, Marcus sent it all in a single, powerful burst across the room. The mass of energy was so dense that it warped the very colors and light of the area around it. It struck Prost with such force that it ripped Lael from his arms and flung her across the room. She came to rest unconscious, but alive, near Jayson.

Prost was thrown backward through the gaping, jagged void where the stained-glass window had been. He managed to grasp the sharp edge of the pane, and though it cut into his hands, he hung there, three stories above the ground.

Marcus began to cross the room to the window. If he had to pound Prost's fists with his own bare hands, he would do it to rid Dokur of the chancellor once and for all. But before he reached Prost, a loud, cracking sound echoed from the hall outside, followed by a tremendous roar.

A guard came running in. “The prison door has exploded off its hinges! Something's down there!”

The floor beneath their feet rumbled with the steps of something massive and heavy. A moment later, the wall separating the throne room from the rest of the Fortress collapsed in a cloud of dust and rubble. The guards shouted and scattered in every direction. In the settling cloud of dust, Marcus saw an enormous dragon. Its black scales
glistened in the sunlight as it threw its head back and roared. It lumbered across the marble floor as though obeying a silent command and lowered its head through the window. Prost released the pane and grasped the beast's neck with his bloody hands. With great difficulty, he hoisted his battered body onto the back of the dragon. A moment later, the dragon spread its wings and took flight through the broken window.

Kelvin helped Jayson to his feet, and the two of them joined Marcus near the window. Together they watched the dragon turn toward the sea. Minutes later, it and Prost were gone from sight.

Seventy-eight

M
arcus stayed by Lael's bedside for two days, waiting for her to regain consciousness. The Fortress healers who looked after her assured him she would recover soon, but he still worried. Kaië, whose injuries had been minor, stayed nearby, as well, helping where she could. Jayson, of course, refused to be waited on and insisted on keeping his room in the tavern. He and Brommel spent many hours there studying Ivanore's documents late into the night. They provided some clues as to where Ivanore might be, though nothing was certain.

The second night, hours before the sun would rise, Jayson joined Marcus in his vigil. Marcus noted the dark circles under his father's eyes and guessed he had not slept well, if at all.

Jayson pulled up a stool to sit beside his son. “How is she?” he asked.

“Better,” said Marcus.

“Good. Brommel is waiting in the hall. When she awakes, you'll let him know, won't you?”

“Of course I will. So have Ivanore's papers yielded anymore secrets?”

“They have.” Jayson rested his hands on the edge of Lael's bed, his fingers woven in a relaxed grip. “Marcus, there are many things your grandfather and I should have told you.” His fingers tightened, knuckles going white. “You asked why I didn't tell you about your mother, and what I said was the truth. I wish I had known—I
should
have known she was alive.”

“It's not your fault,” said Marcus.

Jayson pressed his lips together and closed his eyes. A look of remorse crossed his face. “After Fredric sent me into exile, Ivanore came after me. You read that much in her letter. If I had known, I could have protected her. But instead, the Vatéz took her captive.”

“Vatéz,” said Marcus. “They're mentioned in Ivanore's documents. I don't know anything about them except that they are our enemy.”

“The Vatéz are a secret association whose sole objective is to control every other civilized society. They are very powerful, but they lack the one thing that could give them what they most desire.”

“Ivanore's crystal seals?”

“If the Vatéz find them, they will force Ivanore to use
the seals to locate and destroy the Guilde.”

“Do you have any idea where they are holding her?”

“Only that she is likely in Hestoria. The map may have some clues, but we don't understand the language.”

Jayson grew silent. Marcus thought of his mother's letter. She had left him and Kelvin to search for Jayson. Though he understood why she had done it, the feeling that he had been forsaken was like a stone in his stomach.

As if reading Marcus's thoughts, Jayson suddenly continued. “You must understand,” he said firmly, “she fully expected to return to Imaness. She did not abandon you. She loves you, Marcus. That's why we are going after her.”

Jayson explained the plans he and Brommel had made. Kelvin had agreed to give them a ship and supplies, and they would sail for Hestoria that afternoon. The mission would be dangerous. Prost had escaped and could be counted on to tell their enemies every scrap of information he knew—including the existence of the second Celestine seal. Therefore, Marcus had to protect the seals at all costs.

Seventy-nine

W
hen Lael finally awoke later that morning, Marcus the first thing she saw was Marcus's face. He smiled at her and reached for her hand, still bruised and weak. She tried to return his smile, but a fit of coughing stopped her.

“Shhh,” said Marcus. “Lie still and rest.”

Lael nodded, but the look in her eyes spoke what her heart wanted to say aloud.

“Everyone's all right,” continued Marcus.

“Bryn?”

“Even Bryn.”

Lael looked relieved, though she winced in pain when she tried to move.

Marcus adjusted the pillow beneath her head so that she would be more comfortable. “The doctor says you'll be strong enough to go home in a few days. In the meantime, you're to take it easy.”

“But I don't want to go home,” said Lael, her voice weak but determined.

Marcus shook his head. “I know, Lael. You don't have to go back to Quendel. You have a new home here in Dokur.”

Lael looked confused.

“There's someone here to see you,” he told her, “someone who can explain it better than I can.”

Marcus stood and opened the door, inviting whoever waited outside to come in. A moment later, Brommel and Rylan entered. Rylan held a bunch of orange blossoms in his hand. Lael accepted them gratefully, allowing Rylan to set them beside her on the bed stand.

Brommel nodded approvingly at the girl lying in the bed. “My son tells me you were quite the hero in Voltana, young lady. He says you have the heart of a warrior. Tell me, Lael, have you had any success in finding your mother? That is why you went to Voltana, isn't it? To continue your quest?”

“No, I haven't found her,” whispered Lael. “I'm afraid I never will.”

“Never?” repeated Brommel. “I'm surprised someone with such spirit as you have would give up so easily. And what if you were to find her? What then? Are you ready to meet her?”

Lael anxiously tugged at the edge of her blanket. Marcus noticed tears coming down her cheeks.

Brommel stepped closer and spoke with the tenderness of a father. “Rylan told me of your sacrifice.”

Sacrifice, wondered Marcus. What sacrifice is he talking about?

Two drops fell from Lael's eyes, dampening the blanket in her hands. “It was the right thing to do,” she said softly, forcing a smile. “It doesn't matter now, anyway. It was a child's dream, finding my mother after so many years.”

“Now, I wouldn't say that,” answered Brommel. “You know, I nearly forgot. I brought you something. If you wait a moment, I'll go fetch it for you.”

Brommel momentarily stepped out of the room. Marcus wanted to ask Lael what Brommel had meant, what sacrifice had she made. She had, of course, helped him many times along the journey to Voltana and back, but somehow he sensed Brommel referred to something more important. But before he could ask her about it, Brommel returned. With him was the pendant seller from town, the one who had sold Marcus the gryphon amulet and who had been with Brommel and Jayson in the Seafarer Tavern after Marcus was attacked.

“Do you know this woman, Lael?”

Lael looked at the woman and then back at Brommel. “We've spoken on a few occasions,” Lael said, “but otherwise we're strangers.”

“Are you really so certain, child? Her name is Arla.”

Lael turned her eyes to the woman again, with more interest this time. “My mother's name was Arla. . . .”

Marcus watched the recognition dawn slowly in Lael's eyes. Brommel had explained the woman's identity to him earlier, of course, and he had wondered how Lael would react to the news.

Lael tentatively reached out to touch Arla's face. Bursting into tears, Arla grasped Lael's hand in hers and held it against her cheek. As she enfolded Lael in her arms, Lael smiled. “I smell lilacs,” she said. Then she held her mother close and cried.

Eighty

W
hy didn't you tell me who you were before?” asked Lael.

“I would have if I had known,” answered Arla, “but I hadn't seen you since you were a small girl. And I never expected to see you again. I didn't recognize you.”

“But you knew Marcus.”

Arla glanced at Marcus who, until now, had remained a silent witness to this reunion between mother and daughter.

“I felt his power,” said Arla, “and when I saw Zyll, it only confirmed what I had suspected. He's Ivanore's son and the new seer.”

Brommel interrupted. “There's a very important reason why your mother's been gone so long.”

“She sold herself into slavery to pay our debts,” said Lael.

“That's partly true,” said Brommel. “I went to Quendel that day to collect your father. But he refused to honor his contract and sent your mother in his place.”

“Couldn't you have stopped him?” asked Lael. “Why didn't you force him to go instead?”