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3.47

The sorcerers gathered once again in the yard surrounding the navy fort. The two remaining urns sat on the ground between them. Damien had sunk the third one twenty-five miles off the coast in about eight hundred feet of water. For good measure he’d buried it ten feet under the sea bed. If anyone was going to find that item they’d have to work for it.

“Sasha and Lon, you two will take an urn to The Tower. I’ve already told Thomas to expect you. He has the key to the vault. Damien and I will take the second urn to the royal castle. Send a message to my office there when the artifact is secure. Questions?” When no one spoke up the archmage clapped her hands. “Good luck.”

Lon formed a bubble around their urn, conjured a griffin, and took off. Sasha flew a little ahead of him on a blue dragon. Gaudy, but if they ran into trouble she could send it against any foe in an instant.

His master formed a bubble around their own urn. “Ready?”

Salem came running out of the fort waving her hands. “Wait for me.”

She skidded to a stop beside them. “I want to help.”

Damien glanced at his master who nodded. “Great, we’d appreciate it.”

The three of them flew east and a little north. The archmage rode her eagle while Damien stayed in the lead on his own and Salem brought up the rear on a carpet of soul force. If they didn’t push it they’d make the capital an hour before sunset. That was a long time to be exposed, but since no one knew they were coming Damien wasn’t too worried.

Noon came and went with no sign of problems. Below them The Great Green spread out for miles in every direction. The nearest civilization lay fifty miles north. At times like this Damien was reminded of just how big the kingdom was and how few people really lived here. There was so much emptiness.

“Stop!” Salem said.

Damien and his master pulled up short.

“What is it?” the archmage asked.

“My sister, she’s close. I’ve always been sensitive to her soul force.”

Damien tapped his core and power crackled around his hands, ready to be shaped. “Is she alone?”

Salem shook her head. “I can’t tell.”

A golden speck rose out of the forest below and flew towards them. It moved closer and he recognized Maishi. There was no sign of David, but he had to be around here somewhere.

Salem flew over to her sister, tears in her eyes. They embraced and Salem said, “Are you okay? I’ve been so worried.”

“I’m fine.” Maishi glared at Damien and the archmage. “You’re the one that’s been a prisoner of the enemy.”

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“Oh, no, everyone’s been nice. They’re nothing like David said. People here aren’t afraid of sorcerers like they are back home. We can have a normal life, with friends and everything.”

“They tricked you, Salem.” Maishi grabbed her sister by the shoulders and shook her. “We only have one friend in the kingdom and that’s David.”

Damien sensed him and lashed out with a blast of soul force. David’s invisibility screen crumbled and he tumbled through the sky away from the urn.

“Damn you, boy!” David screamed when he’d stabilized his flight.

David hurled twin blasts of soul force. They had no real power behind them and Damien slapped them aside.

“Tell us where Connor is and we can protect you,” the archmage said.

“Ha! Connor has people everywhere. You can’t protect me, you can barely protect yourselves. Maishi!”

A squeak from behind him drew Damien’s attention. Maishi had her arm around Salem’s throat. Salem fought, but Damien recognized at once that Maishi was the stronger sister.

“Give us the urn. Don’t make me hurt my sister.”

“Maishi, please—” Salem’s plea was cut off by a squeeze from her sister.

“We’re not giving you the urn.” Damien shook his head. “I’m sorry, Salem.”

A golden lance shattered Maishi’s shield and pierced her skull. Her power vanished and she tumbled to the ground, her wailing sister on her heels.

Damien turned on David, his power blazing. “When I’m finished with you, you’re going to wish Connor had killed you.”

“Take him alive.”

Damien looked at his master in disbelief. “Alive?”

“We need to find Connor and he’s the only one that can tell us where to look.”

Damien ground his teeth. “Yes, Master.”

David had flown a good half a mile north when Damien turned back. A beam of golden energy struck the fleeing sorcerer in the back and transformed into chains. Damien bound his prisoner from head to toe before reeling him in like a fat fish.

David fought with everything he had, but his power was nothing compared to Damien’s.

When he finally floated, bound and drained, in front of Damien his head hung and he gasped for air. “Just kill me now. It’ll be a kindness compared to what Connor or worse, his black knight, is going to do to me.”

“Much as I’d like to oblige, that pleasure’s been denied me.” Damien punched him in the side of the head. No power protected his fist or enhanced his muscles. There was nothing but the simple satisfaction of knuckles on skin.

“I have to check on her, Master.”

The archmage nodded. “Quickly. We need to keep moving.”

Damien flew down and found Salem kneeling in a bed of pine needles beside her sister’s body. He crouched next to her. “I’m sorry. I feared she might hurt you.”

Salem sniffed and looked at him through red-rimmed eyes. “You were right. I felt the malice in her. Maishi would have killed me to get that urn. My own sister would have killed me. If I’d been stronger I could have fought her off. You wouldn’t have had to…” A sob cut Salem off mid-sentence and she wrapped her arms around him.

Damien rubbed her back and let her cry for a little while. He couldn’t take too long. His master was right about that.

After a minute he said, “We can’t stay here. Do you want to take her body to the city or bury it here?”

Salem wiped her eyes and looked around. “This is a pretty spot. I think Maishi would have liked it here.”

Damien conjured a rectangle of soul force and drove it into the ground. When it rose a perfect grave had been gouged out of the earth. Salem created a litter of soul force and slid her sister’s body into the grave. Damien covered it and found a three-foot boulder jutting out of the ground. A little brute-force shaping carved it into a headstone which he sunk into the ground at the head of the grave.

Salem knelt beside it and carved her sister’s name and the short epitaph: Beloved Sister. She put her hand on the stone for a second and stood up. “I’m ready. Thank you for this. My sister was your enemy and I know you didn’t have to show her even this much kindness.”

As they flew up to rejoin his master Damien said, “I didn’t do it for your sister. I did it for you. Friends look after each other.”