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The Sentinel's Call
With Friends Like These . . .

With Friends Like These . . .

Kevlin paused just inside the wall to stare at the devastated enclave. The keep barely stood, while all the other buildings had been reduced to scattered debris floating in the standing water. Sloshing his way into the courtyard, he made for a wide gap in the wall of the devastated keep.

“Kevlin.”

He looked up. It took a few seconds to focus on the figure waving to him from a window of the central tower. Was that Wayra?

“Where is Rhisart?” Harafin’s voice, magnified several times, boomed from the shattered gate behind Kevlin. Harafin looked refreshed, like he’d slept for a couple of days.

“Dead,” Wayra called. “I control the keep now.”

“Where is Tanathos?”

“He just breached the passage leading to the heart of the mountain.”

Ah’Shan strode through the shattered gate beside Harafin. “Why didn’t you stop him?”

“I was unconscious until just now, master. Time is short. Harafin must choose you.”

“Agreed.” Ah’Shan looked to Kevlin. “Give me the stone.”

“I don’t think so.” Kevlin dashed toward the door.

If Tanathos had just breached the passage, it didn’t sound like he could be too far ahead. Kevlin wasn’t about to stop. The desperate hope that somehow he could free Antigonus’ soul from Tanathos’ spell drove him on.

“Stop,” Wayra and Ah’Shan shouted simultaneously.

Kevlin ran harder.

# # #

In the tower, Wayra cursed and drew upon the power of the keep. The man Kevlin was an abomination, and he’d gone too far. She was master of Il’Aicharen, so she dictated what happened within the walls of the keep. She had every right to execute him for disobeying her command.

She intended to do so.

# # #

“Wayra, stop!” Harafin yelled.

He could feel the latent power of the keep coming to life. What was the rash young woman planning? Several ideas came to mind.

All of them worried him.

# # #

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

A heavy bolt of blue-white magic, as thick as Kevlin’s waist, shot from the central tower and struck him in the center of the chest. The heat of the magic boiled standing water into a cloud of steam that seared his exposed skin.

The amulet absorbed the magic and poured it into him, a wild torrent of power that burned away exhaustion from the day’s fighting. It filled him with unimaginable strength and churned inside him, hungry for release. His muscles quivered with the need to act.

The cloud dissipated and he wiped moisture from his eyes.

“What are you doing?” he shouted up at the tower.

Wayra was insane. Really.

He hadn’t trusted her since that first night when she’d wrecked their plan and caused the whole mess. This was the worst time to be proven right about her. He lacked time to deal with her. He had to catch Tanathos.

“Stop!”

Ah’Shan plowed through the courtyard, sending up a wide spray of water as he raced toward Kevlin. “Just give me the stone, you fool!”

“No.”

“Give it to him, abomination,” Wayra shouted.

Kevlin wished he knew how to magnify his voice like Harafin did. He sounded like a child arguing with adults.

“Leave him,” Harafin commanded. “We must stop Tanathos first.”

“This is how we stop him,” Ah’Shan retorted. “Now, give me the stone.”

“I said no,” Kevlin repeated. For a powerful sentinel, Ah’Shan seemed hard of hearing. “Leave me alone.”

Not slowing, Ah’Shan raised a hand glowing with power. “You have no right to deny me, steward. I will take it.”

Ah’Shan punched Kevlin in the stomach.

Magic blasted into him with the punch, but the amulet absorbed it. Kevlin staggered back a step. Ah’Shan was a formidable man. Even without magic, his punch carried a lot of weight.

Ah’Shan cursed and shook out his hand. Hopefully he’d broken something on Kevlin’s armor.

“What are you?” Ah’Shan asked.

That does it.

All his pent-up frustration burst free, with Ah’Shan as the target.

“My turn,” Kevlin growled. Focusing all of that burning energy, he willed the magic into his fist and punched Ah’Shan in the jaw.

The sentinel’s jaw snapped.

His head whipped back so hard Kevlin was amazed the man’s neck didn’t break. The magic blasted out of Kevlin, striking Ah’Shan in the head and torso in an explosion of red-hot energy.

Ah’Shan had enough shielding in place that he wasn’t ripped apart by the blast. Instead it catapulted him backward across the courtyard. He slammed into the exterior wall and fell onto a pile of rubble where he lay, unmoving.

Kevlin stared down at his hand.

That felt really good, though he might have gone just a little too far. He raised his clenched fist and decided that was how he would kill Tanathos.

“You killed him,” Wayra shrieked in a voice so loud Kevlin had to cover his ears.

“Wayra, stop,” Harafin called, running forward. “Kevlin, beware!”

Kevlin ran for the door.

He only made it two steps.

A dozen bolts of crimson magic shot from the top of the tower. The impact staggered Kevlin and he fell to the courtyard. The water was gone, evaporated by the tremendous heat.

The amulet burned against his chest as it drank in the magic and poured it into him, a torrent so vast he barely comprehended it. It pounded through him, a wild maelstrom boiling through every muscle, bone and fiber. It raged through his body, seeping deep down into the smallest particles and pulling at the very fabric of his soul.

It began to tear him apart.

He struggled against it, tried to bend it to his will and command it to obey, but he could not. It boiled out of control.

In a panic, Kevlin tried to flee, but he couldn’t move. He lay on the dry, cracked cobblestones, his body rigid and unmoving, with blue light streaming from every gap in his clothing. He tried moving his legs, his face, his head, but all to no avail.

He focused on blinking an eye.

Nothing.

In the depths of his mind, he screamed. The amulet on his chest burned into his flesh.

Will it explode?

Or will I?