Night fell before they reached the end of the gorge, not that it made much odds beneath the fog. Where in the day the fog had captured and filtered the light, now it regurgitated it in a sickly glow.
A narrow path zig-zagged up out of the gorge. At the end of that singular path lay a small camp, little more than a single fire surrounded by four white tents, with a fifth tent with gold trim set further back. Ted looked down from above with a Farsight spell, though his mind’s eye wandered time and again to the shining marble ziggurat in the distance. Warm magical lights bathed each of the ziggurat’s twenty levels, and atop it stood a grand five-sided temple of granite and gold. Intricate stone carvings of lions and dragons and other fell beasts adorned the temple, and five different towers rose from its corners: one each of ivory, steel, silver, and wood, and a huge tree with its staircase spiraling around the outside.
This was the Hub. Their destination. Their best, and only, hope of fixing this damned world.
Green meadows stretched out between the gorge and the Hub, littered with hundreds of campfires and thousands of men and tents, set in groups of four plus one. The army sprawled out in a ring around the Hub, bustling with activity even in the darkness. Above circled that damned dragon again, flapping wings longer than cars while its rider kept watch.
News of their departure from Hallowed Falls must have spread by now, and the Emperor wasn’t taking any chances.
That was a problem for later. For now, Ted focused on the camp before them. Four soldiers—an orc woman, a dwarf, and two human men—sat on crude stools around the fire. They chatted in pairs, the humans and non-humans each together, with their helmets set aside. The mage was nowhere to be seen but, judging by the Alarm spells covering the clifftops, he had to be close. Probably resting in his tent. Ted felt exhausted even thinking about maintaining such a wide Alarm spell for so long.
Climbing the cliffs was out of the question. The Alarm would trigger, the mage would send up a flare, and the entire damned army would descend. Up and over could work, except a Continuous Area Levitate spell would drain too much mana to leave room for Invisibility. Between not being able to Stealth and the high-powered Force magic involved, they’d shine like a star in the sky.
Ted relayed all he saw to Gramok and Cara, while they all stood at the base of the path, up like lemmings waiting to die.
“We’ll have to sneak our way past,” Cara said, glancing at Gramok. “Heroes and Companions only in the Hub, anyway.”
Gramok raised an eyebrow. “Are you suggesting something, my darling little ranger?”
“About your Stealth abilities?” Cara grinned even as she shook her head. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Ted’s jaw clenched. “It won’t work.”
“Why not?” Cara snapped back at him. “You’ve come a long way. Even earned that bow. Plus, we’ve got Invisibility now.”
“True,” Ted said, “but it won’t be enough. Twenty percent of their army are mages. They’ll have Alarm spells spread out, and Nullification fields to kill off Invisibility and Portals. We’d never make it.”
No one replied, letting the silence build. Letting it grow heavy with the burden of responsibility.
This was a war to save the world.
Ted’s insides curled in on themselves. Would he really let the world end because he couldn’t do what needed to be done? “There’s… there’s a way.”
The others stared at him but still said nothing, letting that dreadful silence swell once more.
“The Destroyer,” Ted said, wincing at Cara’s immediate scowl. “He offered help. A distraction. An army.”
A pensive look came across Gramok. “A dungeon spawn attack? Yes, that would track—around here, they are very high level, and I have heard no indication that they’ve come to the surface yet. They would be fresh, and deadly.”
Deadly. A goblin driving a dagger into a dwarven soldier’s neck flashed in Ted’s mind. Low-level dungeon spawn were terrible enough—it was all too easy to imagine flaming demons or whatever it was the Destroyer had held in reserve ripping the men and women above to shreds.
“They’re people,” Cara said. “Soldiers doing their job.”
“Servants of the Emperor,” Ted said. “Our enemies.”
Cara turned away and stared at a rock lodged in the muddy ground. “They don’t have a choice. Isn’t that part of what we’re going to fix? Whatever your father did to them?”
A chill washed over Ted, yet his heart pounded and fire thudded in his veins demanding that he shout back, tell her they were the enemy and that was that. He clenched up and turned to Gramok, not trusting his voice to speak.
There was a long delay before Gramok spoke. When he did, it was with downcast eyes. “We have an edge against a vastly superior foe. We can’t afford to get squeamish about using it.”
Great. A tie.
Two competing sets of eyes now glared at him, demanding he do what was right.
Ted closed his eyes, took a long, deep breath, and made a decision. “Alright,” he said, “this is the plan.”
***
Ted led the way up to the camp, cloaked in an illusion of golden robes. Cara flanked him on the left and Gramok on the right.
“Greetings,” Ted called out, with as much smug superiority and disdain as he could muster.
The four soldiers scrambled to their feet. Each stood up straight, facing Ted with a dazed expression. Understandable, considering none of them could remember quite why they were camped out here in the first place.
“At ease,” Ted said, waving dismissively at them. “And fetch your foolish mage. He is in dire need of re-education on the placement of Alarm spells.”
The orc soldier slapped her gauntleted hand against her chest with a clang and scurried off to the white and gold tent. Her companions remained stiffly upright. The human soldiers both furled their brows, still clearly trying to make sense of it.
Did they suspect? Perhaps. Ted smiled to himself. Even if he weren’t here on false pretenses, questioning a Magistrate off of one’s own authority as a soldier would be a death wish. They’d stay silent and compliant, for now at least.
An elven man dressed in a gold-trimmed white robe stained with mud hurried out from the tent, followed by the orc soldier. The mage was a few inches shorter than Ted, and less pale than most high elves he’d seen, but not so short as to be obviously a wood elf. “Magistrate, I didn’t know—”
Ted raised his finger, cutting him off. “Your Alarms are sloppy, your soldiers slovenly, and your address impertinent towards your crown prince.”
The mage bowed his head, cowed properly into silence.
“You are fortunate,” Ted said, pausing to let the possibility of salvation linger above them a moment longer, “that I have urgent and sensitive business on the Emperor’s behalf.”
The five imperials remained silent, any hint of doubt burned away in fear.
“Mage, summon the dragon rider Sir Tregak Kadora. Sir Gramok Kadora brings a challenge against him. Do not inform Tregak of my presence.”
After a few moments, the mage bowed his head even lower. “It is done, Your Royal Highness.”
In the distance, the dragon silhouette flapped its huge wings and came about, bearing down upon them. No backing out now.
Yet Ted found himself hesitating. The plan had called for ambushing the soldiers now, cutting them down before they could change their minds. But seeing them cowed as they were, there seemed no sense in killing them. “Proceed into the gorge with your men. There, you will find your disgrace of an Alarm. Practice placing Alarm spells until you and your men are unable to find any way past without triggering it, even with the aid of Levitation. Do not return before dawn, and do not share what you have seen here today, lest you feel the Emperor’s wrath.”
The mage looked up, nodded, and slapped his hand to his chest before hurrying off, leading the men away.
Gramok leaned in and whispered, “How long until the altered memories wear off?”
Ted turned and stared into Gramok’s eyes. Into the wavering doubt behind them. “You don’t have to do this.”
“He’s my brother,” Gramok said, flipping down his visor.
“Exactly.”
Gramok grunted, and slung his dragon-emblazoned shield off his back. “I will not dishonor him by avoiding battle,” he said, palming an item from his belt with his shield hand.
Cara stared at him, utterly incredulous. “We’re going to kill him. You know that, right?”
“He is the enemy,” Gramok said with a shrug, as if that was all that needed to be said on the matter.
Perhaps it was. It was easier to think of it that way, than the real reason: That we couldn’t claim his brother’s mount until the rider was dead.
Sir Tregak Kadora’s dragon loomed large in the sky and swept low on approach. As expected, both dragon and rider shone a brilliant teal, glistening with Protection magic. There’d be no catching him unaware with Alter Memory or a Blastbolt sucker punch.
The dragon’s eyes glowed red, as did the gaps between its dark metallic scales. Large spines protruded from its head, and Tregak—a hulk of an orc—sat atop its back clad in jet black armor with a lance under his arm.
The dragon opened its mouth and roared, flaunting the golden magic shining within. So, not a natural dragon at all. Unsurprising—no beast that size, that heavily armored, could fly, let alone carry a fully armored orc larger even than Gramok.
Ted focused on the rider and activated Identify, and a sudden feeling of pushing upon thick mud came over him. Was Tregak that high level, or had he invested in blocking Identify?
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
The dragon swooped down towards a field no more than a hundred yards away from them. Its huge back feet slammed into the ground first, ripping up grass as it slid to a halt. The beast—the construct?—came to rest and dropped down onto its smaller front talons, each still as large as a man.
Tregak secured his lance then swung his legs over one side and slid down to the ground. He reached into the saddlebags and drew out a war hammer larger than Ted, hefting it over his shoulder like it was nothing. The side of the hammerhead glistened with runic magic. There was a clink of metal, his visor snapping shut, and he turned upon the group. He marched towards them, rage radiating off him with every step.
“Good luck,” Ted said, resisting the urge to clap Gramok on the back. No showing weakness, not here.
“Sir Tregak Kadora,” Gramok called out, his voice cold and flat, “I challenge you for our birthright.”
A deep snarl came back. “Traitors have no rights, runt.”
“I serve the Crown Prince,” Gramok said. “I am no traitor, and the challenge is my right.”
Tregak stopped in his tracks. His helmet turned and locked on Ted.
A tingle ran down Ted’s spine. Identify. And Ted’s own Identify still hadn’t come back.
“I know you, Gramok,” Tregak said. “You play the fool poorly.”
Gramok stepped forward and drew his mace. “The challenge has been made. Do you accept, brother?”
Tregak chuckled without humor. “So your friends can ambush me? I think not. Know that with a single flare, the Emperor’s army will be upon you in minutes.”
“No, brother. So we can steal your dragon from your corpse.”
For a moment, Tregak merely stared back, motionless. “Of course. My dragon. How foolish of me to believe that you’d finally grown the fangs to challenge me out of anything but desperation. Very well. But if the esteemed Crown Prince or his pet interfere, I shall summon the wrath of the Empire.”
Both orcs stepped forward, Gramok with his heater shield and mace raised, and Tregak with his war hammer slung over his shoulder.
Ted tensed up. This was it. The one part of the plan that he could do nothing to help. No way he could overpower the Tregak’s Absorb before he got a message out.
Tregak beckoned with his free hand. “Come. I will enjoy telling Father how I caved in your skull while the errant prince watched.”
“Not this time, brother,” Gramok said, cautiously stepping forward with his shield high.
“You made the challenge, brother. Or are you too intimidated by this armor Father made you procure for his favored son?”
Gramok roared and swung his mace at head height.
Tregak stepped back and laughed, not even bothering to lift his hammer from his shoulder. “You never could beat me in a duel.”
Another roar, and Gramok advanced with a wide backhanded swing.
Another step back. “You’re weak. Pathetic. Predictable.”
Another swing, with all Gramok’s power behind it this time.
Tregak stepped into the strike. Struck at Gramok’s wrist with his off hand. Sent the mace tumbling into the mud.
Ted clenched tight. Without a weapon—
Tregak swung his warhammer from his shoulder.
Gramok spun the opposite way. His shield came up, a dagger tip flipped out in his shield hand. The blade drove into Tregak’s temple, straight through his helmet.
Tregak seized up, and fell to the floor. He lay there, motionless. Dead.
Gramok wiped the dagger clean on the grass before sheathing it and reclaiming his mace. “Told you I could beat him.”
Ted raised an eyebrow. “No way you put a dagger through that helmet.”
A dark grin came over Gramok. “Took me weeks to manipulate Father into making me procure that armor for him.”
Ted frowned. A weakness built into the armor, then, and if he had to guess, many a thrown practice fight to lull his brother into a false sense of security. “How long have you been waiting to do this?”
“Waiting?” Gramok shook his head and headed for the dragon. “Don’t mistake years of preparation for wanting it to be so. It is what it is, Ted. I did what has to be done, as you Rangers say.”
The dragon sat motionless, its red eyes following their approach and never blinking. Detailed, multilayered threads of magic ran through and under its scales, a web of complex interlocking power.
“You’re mine now,” Ted said, placing his hand upon the construct’s cold, hard neck.
Up close, there was no denying its nature. It was a creature forged of magic, much like the construct that the Zelnari ruins had baited Ted into trying to create. But this was so far beyond anything Ted could even dream of creating without years of study.
Ted’s blood ran cold. Whoever created this was an incredibly powerful mage who’d had years to study and hone their magic.
And then they’d turned that creation over to a servant of the Emperor.
There was still no response from the creature. No rushing to bend to Ted’s will. Studying its magic, Ted followed the threads that controlled it back to the source, to the heart of the beast, to the Zelnari code that resided there.
His heart sank, for there was the answer. The reason why the creature would not obey: It was bound to the will of the Divine Emperor.
It had never served Tregak, not truly. That had been only a delegated authority. Had Tregak lied to his brother, to appear more than he was? Or had he truly believed it? Not that it mattered now.
Ted let out a sigh. “It’s bound to the Emperor. Give me a sec.”
Cara and Gramok circled the dragon, staring at it. Admiring it.
Ted clenched his fist and focused on hacking it. Impressive as it might look, no system this complex was completely secure. He’d find a way in, turn the Emperor’s own weapon against him.
He tried directly changing the Zelnari runes within to shift its allegiance, yet the dragon’s magic turned aside his mana, forbidding it entry.
He tried Alter Memory, but the spell wouldn’t take. This was a construct, not a living person.
He even tried an Illusion upon himself. He felt dirty as he did it, and still the dragon stayed motionless, refusing to accept his claim.
Ted slumped down onto the grass and stared up at the cold, metallic exterior of the dragon. Could he copy it? He sighed and shook his head. Even just copying the magic he could see would take days, if not weeks, let alone that underneath. No wonder there were so few dragon riders.
They didn’t have days. They certainly didn’t have weeks. The Emperor had them in his sights, and every moment wasted before ending the dungeon spawn threat was a gift to the Destroyer.
Soon, the Emperor—his father—would find them. And then he’d be dragged before him.
Dragged to the Hub.
Ted rose. Even standing, the dragon loomed over him, its red eyes following his every move.
His heart pounded. This was a terrible idea. Then again, what wasn’t these days? “I am Edwin Williams, Crown Prince of the Divine Empire, Magistrate of Hallowed Falls, Ranger of the Great Forest, and traitor to the imperial throne. The Emperor wants me at the Hub. You will take us to your master.”
The dragon remained motionless as ever.
Gramok clapped Ted on the back. “Perhaps it’s time to consider using the edge that we have.”
Blood pounded at Ted’s temples. Death. Destruction. Was that all they could bring? “Only if we have no other choice.”
“We could try sneaking,” Cara said. “Hope there’s a gap in their spells.”
Ted stared up at the dragon. Even with its rider dead, it just sat there, waiting for the Emperor.
And there it was. The answer, staring him in the face.
A smile spread across Ted’s lips. “Without its master’s command, this dragon’s going nowhere.”
Cara’s eyes lit up. “We can fly in with an Illusion of a dragon.”
“Exactly,” Ted said, grinning. “It’s way cheaper than Invisibility, and we’ll be high up enough that Discern Magic won’t pick us out. Anyone looking up will just think it’s the dragon rider.”
Gramok gave a grunt. “Smart,” he said, turning to face the two of them with concern etched across his face. “You take damned good care of her, hear me?”
“Always,” Ted said.
“And try not to die too much,” Gramok said, pulling Ted into a bear hug. “Be proud and strong. You can face him, and you will beat him.”
Cara flung hers around them both. “We’ll be back before you know it.”
“You better,” Gramok said.
“About that.” Ted pulled away and tensed up. “If this all goes well—”
“—which it will,” Cara interjected.
“—then the world is going to turn upside down.” Ted stared Gramok in the eyes, sorry for the burden he was placing upon the orc. “Everyone will wake up properly. Either factions and races will come together, or they’ll tear apart in wars we cannot afford.”
“The Destroyer,” Gramok said, nodding in that terrible knowledge of the price of success.
“I thought you trusted him?” Cara said, pointedly staring at Ted.
“Only so far as our interests align.” A knot twisted tight in Ted’s stomach. “The moment we’re done in there, he’ll come for us. For me first, I suspect.”
Cara took his hand in hers. “He’d have to find you first.”
“No.” Ted bit at his lip. “He wouldn’t.”
The color drained from Cara’s face. “The Great Forest.”
“Indeed.” Images of the Great Forest burning bellowed in Ted’s mind. “He’ll draw me out and capture me, so I can’t oppose his rule.”
Gramok bowed his head. “I understand. I’ll do what I can. Go now, with the spirit of Kragonkar at your back.”
“Thank you, friend.” Ted bowed his head and then cast the spell upon Gramok to return him to Valbort before turning to Cara. “You could go too. Help talk your fellow Keepers into being helpful for a change.”
Her face scrunched up. “Don’t call me that.”
“What?” Ted couldn’t help but smile at getting to turn the tables for once. “Keeper?”
She glared at him with those bright emerald eyes. “Only by default, Prowler.”
“You know I don’t want the responsibility of that, Keeper.”
“No?” She reached up and pulled him down into a long, deep kiss. “You should have thought of that before setting out to save the world.”
“I did. The world didn’t give me much choice.”
“You always had a choice, Ted,” she said, smiling up at him. “And I’m proud of how you’ve chosen.”
Heat flushed through him and his heart swelled. “Not half as proud as I am of you.”
She smirked. “Damned straight. Youngest Keeper in wood elven history!”
Ted let out a chuckle. “Alright. Let’s do this.”
He turned around to face away. She clutched tight to his back and he cast a Constant Levitation spell. Rising into the air slowly, he cast a Constant Illusion spell, and the image of a dragon flapped into existence below them. Upon that, he cast a short-duration Invisibility spell.
They rose up into the air, heading straight up at speed, the dragon’s wings flapping with majestic power to sell the illusion. The sooner they got the height, the sooner they wouldn’t have to worry about Discern Magic betraying them.
No arrows came after them. No flares lit the sky. No mages followed on their own levitations. They were safe, for now. They came about, the dragon illusion mirroring their turn, and headed for the Hub in the distance.
Cara pulled tight to his back and kissed his neck. “When this is over, you and I are taking some time off for ourselves.”
“Sorry,” Ted said, struggling to keep his voice deadpan, “can’t take time off.”
She clenched tighter. “Why not?”
“I need to eat all week.”
Several long seconds dragged by.
Cold tension flushed through Ted. Had she forgotten?
Then came her laughter, warm and flowing like honey, and she kissed his neck again. “We can still hunt, dumbass. Just nothing that’s able to kill us. Deal?”
“Deal,” Ted said, letting his mind wander to that idle hope that there would be an after. That the world could ever be that kind.
The ziggurat and the temple atop it drew closer. Even discounting the temple and its towers, the ziggurat itself was at least a hundred yards tall. Details came into view—balconies around the edges of the ziggurat. A moat of water around the temple, with five bridges, each next to one of the five towers.
Cara rested her head against Ted’s shoulder. “Do you know how you’re going to beat him yet?”
Tension flooded Ted again. “We don’t have to. Getting past him’s enough.”
She stiffened up, and her voice deepened. “Him and Alenia.”
“You think she’ll be there?”
“Yeah.” Cara prodded at his stomach. “Can you believe you fell for that act of hers?”
“She’s an assassin! A professional deceiver!”
“All the more reason not to trust her,” Cara teased.
“If I’d know she was—”
A haze of teal magic came into focus around the Hub.
Nullification magic.
“Shit,” Ted said.
Cara raised her head and peered out over his shoulder. “What?”
“There’s null fields all around the Hub.” Ted stared at the field, estimating distances and running the numbers.
“Do we need to land? They won’t be able to follow us inside.”
“Dunno.” Ted eased them slightly sideways and peered over the side of the dragon illusion. Below, a sea of figures scurried about, illuminated by silver light, and pain stabbed at his chest. “There’s many of them down there. If we land, we’re dead.”
Could they make it flying in? Hard to say. Too many unknowns made the margins of error too big to call it. But what choice did they have?
“How does fall damage and water work?” Ted asked.
“Water breaks your falls, no damage regardless of height,” Cara said. “Why?”
Ted swallowed hard. “How’d you feel about flying?”
“We… are flying?” There was a brief pause, and she gasped. “Up then?”
“Up.” Ted’s heart hammered in his chest and he cast a Force Telekinesis upon them, shooting them higher up into the air. “I don’t know if we’ll make it. I won’t be able to adjust our trajectory on approach. Maybe we should—”
“Don’t even suggest it,” she said, jabbing him in the stomach again.
He could order her. Or he just could just do it. A single cast, that’s all he needed to make sure she was safe. But she’d never forgive him, and it was her life, not his. “You’re sure?”
“I’m a Keeper of the Great Forest Rangers,” she said, as if that was all that needed to be said.
Maybe it was. This was her world, her fight, more so even than his.
Tension piled up in Ted’s chest. Air rushed out of his lungs and he swallowed. “Alright.”
The null field drew closer. Ten seconds out. Nine. Eight. Seven.
He began weaving the Force magic.
Six. Five. Four. Three. Two.
“Rakatara ki!”
Air blasted Ted’s face and ears. They shot up and ahead of the dragon, which Ted turned around, in case any on the ground were watching.
The ziggurat rushed towards them, heading for the moat.
Cara clenched him tight. If he’d gotten it even slightly wrong…
He stared at the moat, while Cara’s heart hammered away. It was such a small target, from so far away, with no hope of readjusting direction.
Foolish.
Cara’s heart rate spiked, and she yelled, “Kalkarka, we’re gonna miss!”