The Last Talisman

  With that in mind, Ido requested a day of leave and went to pay Soana a visit.

  The sorceress who’d trained Nihal in the magical arts was stationed at the central encampment of the Land of Water, where she was assisting the nymph Theris with troop logistics. The camp was relatively close, and Ido arrived within an hour.

  He found her, as busy and as fascinating as ever. Since the death of Fen, the man she loved, Soana had worn only black tunics, which cast her pale skin in stark relief. She’d aged since he’d last seen her, too. Streaks of gray ran through her ebony hair, and the light trace of crow’s-feet had formed around her eyes. Nevertheless, she was still a stunning beauty.

  The sorceress welcomed him like an old friend. But as ever, there was something cool, almost haughty, in her manner, as if she were surrounded by an aura that set her apart from others, but Ido appreciated the distance. Besides, there was something that bound them beyond all differences: Nihal.

  They talked about the battle and the receding front, and Ido explained why he had come.

  When the dwarf stopped speaking, Soana gazed at him thoughtfully. “You’ll have to tell me precisely what you’re aiming to accomplish with your sword so that I can determine the proper incantation. The spells they’ve been applying before each battle aren’t enough?”

  Ido sighed. “No, they aren’t. And the Tyrant’s generals aren’t like regular soldiers. Their weapons are enhanced with dark magic, and they’re the ones I’m up against. What I need is a sword that will level the playing field between me and the Tyrant’s best men.”

  Soana raised her eyebrows. “Are you implying you’d like me to use a forbidden spell?”

  “You know I’d never ask you to do anything of the sort.”

  “What would you have me do, then?”

  Ido hesitated. “My brother wore a special armor. It seemed alive, almost. If struck, it was capable of repairing itself on its own. Is there any way to penetrate that sort of armor?” The dwarf stopped speaking and lowered his gaze. It was the first time he’d spoken of his brother since his execution, after Nihal had defeated him in battle.

  For a long while, Soana remained deep in thought. “These aren’t easy spells to counter, particularly without resorting to forbidden magic.”

  Ido decided then that it was time to confess the details of his dilemma. “I need it in order to take revenge on a knight I lost to, a knight who wronged Nihal.”

  “The Scarlet Knight … Deinforo,” Soana muttered grimly.

  Ido nodded. So that was the name of his enemy.

  “How long can you stick around?”

  “Only until tomorrow.”

  “Leave me your sword. I’ll think it over this evening.”

  Ido spent the night at the encampment. When he woke, early the next morning, he rushed to see Soana.

  The sorceress was already up and about. Ido’s sword rested against a chair. The blade glinted with blue light and had taken on a strange transparence. The dwarf was immediately concerned. His sword was his life.

  “It wasn’t easy,” said Soana. Her voice was weak and there were bags under her eyes. “I was forced to use nearly every ounce of my magic.”

  Ido felt guilty. “I didn’t mean for you to pass a sleepless night just for me.”

  Soana smiled. “It was a pleasure, actually. It reminded me of the good old days, working in Livon’s shop, putting in hours and hours adding enchantments to his swords.”

  A shadow passed through her eyes, but Soana was like Ido, glacially cool and composed. She handed the dwarf his sword and her tired face regained its serenity. “I applied an augmented version of the fire spell we apply before every battle. In addition, I reinforced the blade’s metal with a spell derived from light, the most powerful I know. These aren’t your typical spells. They’re still approved of by the Council, but in quality, they’re similar to forbidden magic. I’ve only ever used them on rare occasions.”

  Ido bowed his head as he took his sword from her. “Thank you.”

  “With your weapon as it is now, you’ll have no problem dispensing with phantom soldiers, and in the meantime, you’ll have a better chance against armor reinforced with any spell rooted in darkness. Unfortunately, however, only darkness defeats darkness. The only sure way to overcome a forbidden spell is with an even more powerful forbidden spell.”

  “Don’t worry. Your efforts will be more than sufficient. It’s not the sword alone that counts, but the strength of the arm that wields it.”

  Soana smiled as Ido sheathed his sword.

  “It’s time I got going,” Ido said. “My infinite thanks.”

  “I couldn’t refuse such a dear friend,” said Soana. “Please, though, keep your wits about you.”

  Ido stared back at her, as if bewildered, but Soana wasn’t fooled by his charade. “You’re on your own now. It’s easy to become obsessed with the fight. But this Dragon Knight, however serious his wrongs to you and Nihal, is an enemy like any other.”

  Ido smiled. “I’ll bear that in mind.”

  9

  A Farewell

  Nihal, Sennar, and Laio set off again the following morning. They stayed above the clouds so as to take advantage of the faint heat of the winter sun and flew over numerous mountain peaks. Only after three days’ travel did they descend beneath the clouds. Another four went by before they reached the plain.

  The evening before they reached their destination, the very base where Nihal had received her initial Dragon Knight training with Ido, Nihal pulled Sennar aside.

  “We’ll be spending only one day at the base, just enough time to get a better idea of how things are on the front. Then we’re off again,” she said.

  “Why such a rush?” Sennar asked.

  “Because Laio will have it in his mind that we’ll be spending three days there.”

  “You’re not planning to—”

  Nihal turned her head abruptly. “I have to.”

  Sennar shook his head. “You’ll never be able to just leave him like that, and you know it.”

  “He can’t come with us. It’s too dangerous.”

  “If you want my advice, you should think this through, Nihal. It’s just not right to offend him like that.”

  Nihal stared down at the ground for a long while, and Sennar could see she was struggling with the decision. “I have no other choice,” she said at last. “Have you already forgotten what happened in the sanctuary?”

  “Don’t be foolish. That could have happened to me just as easily, or even to you, if that’s what this is all about. Laio saved your life.”

  “Laio is not a warrior, and he’s not a sorcerer. It was a mistake to bring him along from the very start. And this is the last chance I have to protect him.”

  “But—”

  “What’s with you Sennar?” Nihal cut in. “You and Laio have never gotten along. Did you think I hadn’t noticed? Why are you all of a sudden so insistent that we bring him with us?”

  Sennar couldn’t find the words to respond. This time, it was the squire’s turn, but soon enough Nihal might do the same to him, and he knew it. He remained silent, eyes glued to the ground.

  “I’ve already made my decision,” Nihal declared, ending the discussion.

  All that next day, Sennar avoided eye contact with Laio. It felt like being in the presence of a condemned man who was unaware of his own sentence. Laio, meanwhile, went on reminiscing about the months he’d passed at the base.

  “How long are we planning to stay there?” he asked after concluding his latest anecdote, this one about another of Ido’s inflamed outbursts and the trademark puffs of pipe smoke that accompanied them.

  “Three days,” Nihal replied, sealing the young squire’s fate.

  Upon their arrival, the group found the air had warmed a bit. They’d been on the road for more t
han two months, and spring was not far off.

  Nihal and Laio found the base just as they’d last left it not even a year ago, the same fence surrounding the encampment, the same spartan wood huts, the same vast practice grounds.

  Several longtime residents recognized them and celebrated their arrival. And Nihal was surprised to see so many girls come out to greet her squire. It had never crossed her mind that Laio might be a heartbreaker!

  Nihal left Laio to his admirers and went for a walk around the base on her own. Her stroll took her first past the lodgings she’d inhabited during her most recent month on the base and then to Ido’s house. She half hoped she’d run into her teacher, though the dwarf was undoubtedly at the front in the Land of Water, where the situation was most critical. She went to the practice grounds where she’d met Oarf and trained with him. It was there that she’d battled Ido for the first time, and lost. Then she reached the point near the stables where, one afternoon nearly a year and a half earlier, she had wounded Sennar. Now it was only possible to make out the scar on the sorcerer’s cheek when the light struck it just right, but it was there nonetheless, reminding her of the pain she’d caused him.

  In the afternoon, Nihal paid a visit to the base commander and asked for advice on the best way to travel beyond the front and cross the border. Nelgar studied the map carefully, his serene face suddenly taut and intent. No one would ever have guessed that this short, stocky man was one of the most powerful generals in the Army of the Free Lands.

  “The only way is through the Sershet Mountains,” he uttered at last. “The terrain is too rugged for troops to be stationed there, so you should be able to pass unnoticed. But you’ll have to face the climb, and you’ll be crossing through enemy territory,” he added. “What business do you have there?” he asked, point-blank.

  “My mission is confidential. I’m sorry, but I’m not permitted to answer that question. Please, I need you to pretend that we never came through here,” Nihal replied awkwardly. “And there’s another favor I’d like to ask of you.”

  “Which is?”

  “I’ll be leaving this evening, but I’d like Laio to stay behind. It will be too dangerous. I’m asking you to do whatever you must to keep him from following me once he discovers I’ve left.”

  “As far as I remember, Laio’s never been one to let you out of his sight. Keeping him here won’t be easy.”

  “If it comes down to it, lock him in a cell,” she replied. Nelgar stared back in astonishment. “I don’t want anything bad happening to him.”

  That evening, Laio was late to bed, and Nihal and Sennar were forced to postpone their hour of departure. The half-elf lay awake on her mattress, waiting for her squire’s breath to sink into the heavy rhythm of sleep. Once she was certain he’d drifted off, she stood and made ready to leave. Casting one last glance at her friend, she leaned down and kissed him lightly on the cheek. Then she exited the tent in a hurry, before any regret could set in.

  Sennar was waiting for her outside. Without daring to look him in the eye, she sprinted off toward the stables.

  “I’m going to see Oarf,” she said, already on her way.

  That evening the stables were packed full with dragons, but only one of them was awake. Nihal went straight to him, smiling, and patted his head. Oarf responded with a pleading look of dejection. She hated the idea of leaving him behind, but to cross into enemy territory with a dragon in tow would be as good as suicide.

  “Forgive me, Oarf. You know I’d never leave your side if I could help it, but this time there’s no choice. We have to slip by unnoticed through unfriendly territory. I’m sorry.”

  The dragon ducked its head quickly, shaking off Nihal’s hand.

  “Don’t play ignorant with me. I know you understand.”

  For the first time, Nihal felt helpless beneath Oarf’s proud gaze.

  “I’ll be back soon. I promise.”

  Oarf fixed his red eyes on her.

  “Good-bye,” Nihal muttered, and left the stables without looking back.

  Among Enemies

  Each night, the Hunter travels one full arc of the heavens, from east to west. His figure is composed of twenty stars; the first two are of an extraordinary brilliance. One bears the color of the sea, the other of a burning coal. They are twins in the sky, dancing around each other in perfect, perpetual motion. Iresh, I named them. The Dancers.

  Excerpt from notes from the Royal Astronomy, Seferdi Observatory

  10

  A Bad Omen

  Sennar and Nihal left the base on horseback with the intention of putting as many miles as possible between themselves and Laio. As they rode full gallop through the moonlight, Nihal kept her ears perked for any trace of sound: a hush, a whisper, the clopping of hoofs. But as far as she could tell, there was no one trailing them.

  In eight days, they came to the slopes of the Sershet Mountains, and after two more, they were in proximity of the first mountain pass. Leaving their horses behind in the nearest village, they began their climb. On that side, the mountain’s slope was soft, and only the last stretch gave them any difficulty. By morning of the third day, they’d arrived at the mountain pass.

  Years before, when the Tyrant’s long arm had yet to lay hold on this region, commerce had flourished between the Land of the Sun and the Land of Days. Together, men and half-elves oversaw the construction of several mountain passes. In peacetime, the passes were heavily traveled and the mountains not so desolate, despite their rugged terrain. Roads branching off from the various paths linked the two lands. Travelers could rest, find refreshment, and sell their wares in the many inns and markets along the way.

  Things had changed, however, and now the passes were long out of use. Many had been ruined during the battles following the massacre of the half-elves. Others were destroyed shortly thereafter, as a precautionary measure to secure borders. Still others, the toughest among them, had deteriorated due to neglect. No one knew which paths were still passable any longer. Nihal and Sennar could only hope the first one they chose would turn out to be a good choice. Fortune, alas, did not smile upon them.

  On the morning of their arrival, they found thepass to be in good condition, and the weather was favorable, too. Thirteen days had passed since they’d left the base. But as soon as they made it up through the pass and looked down on the other side, a substantial obstacle came into view.

  “We should have known,” said Sennar.

  An enormous rock face stretched as far as the eye could see toward the peak and downward into the valley, blocking their way for several hundred feet. The wall was thick and impassable, composed of massive, rough-hewn blocks. Watchtowers stood at intervals of three hundred yards. Fammin traveled back and forth between them.

  Before setting out on this long voyage, Nihal and Sennar had spoken with Ido about the conditions in the lands occupied by the Tyrant. Ido had mentioned a wall, but he’d said that it did not extend into the mountains lying at the heart of the chain. And yet, there it was before them. Apparently, the Tyrant had seen to its expansion over the last twenty years.

  “No,” Sennar observed, “there’s no getting through this way.”

  “Then what do you propose we do?”

  “There’s nothing to do but try another pass.”

  They descended farther into the valley before climbing back up again. The weather made no concessions. Soon they found themselves trudging through a violent snowstorm.

  Nihal dreaded the moment when she’d once again set foot in her native village. The nearer they drew to the place where her people had been annihilated, the more she was tormented by the spirits of her past.

  Five more days of hiking brought them to a second mountain pass where they found yet another unpleasant surprise: The passage no longer existed. Where there should have been a clear trail winding its way through the mountains, the path was inste
ad blocked by a mass of boulders. The work of Fammin, most likely.

  And so they continued their voyage, hunched beneath the snow as they searched for another pass. Four more days brought them in sight of the next one, but the fury of the snowstorm made it all but impossible to assess its condition from afar.

  “You wait here. I’ll go take a look,” Sennar offered.

  “Nonsense. We’ll go together.”

  “I didn’t come out here for a leisurely hike. You wait for me here.”

  Sennar pushed forward through the blizzard, his arm raised to shield his face. He’d been plodding forward like this for a few minutes when he came to a sudden stop. He lowered his arm to get a better view and his stomach curled into knots. He was standing at the edge of precipice.

  He took another few steps forward and leaned out from the overhang. A few feet below was a narrow passageway that wound its way between two mountains. The path was clear.

  Without delay, he returned to Nihal. “The pass is clear up ahead,” he announced.

  “Any trace of Fammin?”

  Her words chilled Sennar to the bone, like the shock of a cold shower. “To tell you the truth, I didn’t check. … But the fortified wall was nowhere in sight.”

  “Be ready to use your magic,” she said, stepping in front of him.

  When they reached the edge of the precipice, they paused for a moment to get a better grasp of the situation. They were without any climbing gear, and the cliff dropped at least twenty feet. Nihal laughed.

  “May I ask what’s so funny?”

  “I was just picturing you climbing down.”

  “I’m not the one who’s going to have issues,” Sennar replied, stepping toward the edge of the cliff. He leaped.

  “Sennar!” Nihal shouted.

  The sorcerer raised his eyes and saw Nihal lean out over the edge and then sigh in relief. He resumed his slow glide downward.