Authors: Scarlet Hyacinth
He sounded quite upset, and it occurred to Yane that maybe Dorien could help. “I realize that, but we can’t marry people whom we don’t love. As for tonight, we have a meeting. Could you cover for us?”
Dorien looked doubtful. Yane supposed it wasn’t easy to let go of the compulsion to obey the orders of the royal family. “I don’t know…”
“You can spend some alone time with me,” Valderr coaxed. He seemed to be trying for seductive, and it sort of worked, because Dorien’s eyes immediately focused on Valderr, all serious thought forgotten.
“Okay,” he whispered. “I like that idea.”
“No,” Alcharr snapped. “No way.”
“Calm down, brother,” Valderr said with a smile. “I’ll be fine.”
And he sounded so sure of it that even Alcharr’s anger seemed to falter. He took a deep breath and glared at Dorien. “All right. But if you touch him or hurt him in any way, you won’t see the next morning. Got that?”
Dorien nodded. “You really want to stop this wedding, don’t you? What are you planning?”
Yane smirked. “If you play your cards right, Dorien, you might just find out.”
In his room, Kyllian waited for Yane and Alcharr to come. He knew it would take a while, or it might even be impossible. The two men would have to escape the palace to visit him. If they didn’t arrive in the next few hours, Kyllian intended to go there himself, although, truth be told, he preferred not to. He didn’t want to push his magic. It would be needed tomorrow.
At last, about a half hour after midnight, a knock sounded at his door. Kyllian already knew who it was. He hastily let Yane and Alcharr in and gestured them to sit. “Sit down,” he said without preamble. “We have some planning to do.”
“I take it you found out something.”
Kyllian nodded. “Yes, and you won’t like it.”
Earlier that day
Kyllian slipped through the narrow alleys, scanning the markings of the shops. In this area of Anethone, the buyers came for specific services that could be found no place else. Kyllian was looking for a particular one, but alas, quite a long time had passed since he’d last been here. Dryads weren’t exactly a welcoming people, and Kyllian preferred to avoid them.
Still, as a rule, wizards knew many useful individuals all over the world, some of whom they helped and would help them in turn. Sandros was one of these men.
A blacksmith and an architect quite respected for his participation in creating the infrastructure of Anethone, Sandros had been allowed to live here even if he wasn’t a dryad. Kyllian had never been exactly sure about Sandros’s parentage, other than the fact that the man had some wizard blood. For all he knew, he could be half wyrm or something equally as strange. But Sandros kept to himself, and everyone respected his lifestyle because of his skills.
For Kyllian’s part, as much as he admired the man’s craft, something else urged him to look for the man. Sandros was one of the few real seers left on Uli and the only one who’d actually care enough about the situation in the dryad kingdom to help.
Finally, Kyllian spotted the marking that pointed out Sandros’s shop. He made his way there and entered the building. It didn’t take him long to find the other man. He waited, seated at a table in the middle of the main room, his eyes closed and his seer crystals arranged in the shape of a pentagram.
“Well, you certainly took your time to get here,” he said.
Kyllian smiled. He never could take Sandros by surprise. He joined Sandros and sat down on a chair opposite to the seer. “You know me. Always waiting until the last moment.”
Sandros opened his eyes. As always, he looked striking, his crimson gaze fixing on Kyllian with a sense of all-knowingness. “You never wait. You’re always running ahead, and people always have to fight to catch up to you. But not this time. This time, fate has reached you and there’s no turning back.”
Kyllian was used to Sandros’s enigmatic statements. He didn’t believe in fate, which made him an oddity among wizards, but he could deal with Sandros’s comments, as long as the other man helped. “Right. Well, maybe you can help me a little with that.”
Sandros’s full lips twisted in a barely perceptible smile. “Certainly.” He extended his palm. “Hand them over.”
Kyllian gave the seer the locks of hair from Alcharr and Yane. He disliked the notion of having another wizard work with anything belonging to the two men, but he didn’t have a choice. He doubted they would manage to figure out whether their parents were involved or not, so it was up to Kyllian—or rather, to Sandros—to do so. Since they didn’t have access to personal items from the people in question, the spell would have to be cast indirectly.
“This isn’t risky in any way, right?” he blurted out before he could stop himself. He didn’t even know what came over him. He was never uncertain or hesitant, and he knew all too well that scrying didn’t affect the person in question in any way.
Sandros actually chuckled this time. “One of these days, you’re going to have to let me do a reading on you, my friend. Even after all these years, you can still surprise me. And no, it isn’t risky. Don’t worry. No one will be hurt.”
Kyllian nodded, feeling a bit awkward now that he’d essentially revealed his personal involvement in the situation. Because as much as he hated it, he had started to care. Otherwise, he’d have never offered Sassaki a place to go after the man had been scorned by his family. He’d have never told Hash to be there for Owen. Perhaps he never would have bothered to even come here. He consoled himself with the thought that most likely Sandros would have seen the state of things regardless of Kyllian’s words.
Sandros positioned the locks of hair in the middle of the pentagram. “Very good,” he said. “Now, here we go.”
Sandros muttered an incantation under his breath, holding his hands over the crystals and occasionally rotating them over the middle of the pentagram. Kyllian held his breath as he watched the man work. He’d seen the seer do this before, of course, but it was still a marvel to him and a gift he appreciated above all others.
At last, a slide show of images appeared in front of them. At first, they passed very quickly, but Kyllian realized they were either Alcharr or Yane’s memories. As the spell delved deeper, the picture stabilized, stopping in someone else’s mind.
The image showed the crystal, but not in its current state. Rather, it looked white and beautiful, apparently still cloaked by the spell. However, it wasn’t the same crystal as in the astral plane, but rather, it seemed like its equivalent on this realm.
A voice rang out, coming from the memory. “This is the very foundation of our nation, Enyas. You have to protect it, come what may.”
The memory shifted, presenting the figure of a tall dryad male. “What is it, Father?” a boyish voice said. Kyllian surmised the memory belonged to the current dryad king, Enyas, and the other man must be the former ruler and Enyas’s sire.
“The reason why the wyrms can’t attack us. It was created a long, long time ago by a wizard who wanted to help us.”
“I swear, Father, I will never let the wyrms defeat us. The crystal will be safe.”
The image faded, turning into another slide show, until it stopped once again. A dark-clad figure appeared in front of Kyllian. “I don’t want my son to marry that nymph,” a decided voice said. “This is what you’re going to do. You will take Valderr away from the palace and hide him. Everyone must believe he has been kidnapped, including Valderr himself. He’s too young and innocent to know how to lie. But no matter what, he must be kept safe at all times.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” the dark man said. “When should we return him?”
“I will talk to King Enyas and convince him the wyrms are behind the kidnapping. Once they agree to the alliance—without forcing the issue with the wedding—I will contact you to bring him back. But again, if he is any way harmed…”
The black-clad man bowed. “I understand, King Amadeus. You can count on us.”
The second memory vanished as well, and the slide show of images seemed to be shrouded by something. But Kyllian did catch sight of the pages of a book on necromantic spells. Clearly, the king of the eagles was at least one of the guilty parties.
Finally the spell faded, and Kyllian waited for his friend to recover. The indirect spell had drawn a lot from Sandros, and he looked very pale. When at last Sandros seemed to be breathing better, Kyllian inquired, “So, are they both involved? Amadeus and Enyas?”
“No,” Sandros answered as he opened his eyes. “None of them are.”
Kyllian gave him a surprised look. “Pardon me?”
“The dryads don’t know about the crystal losing its power. They don’t even realize it is necromantic. The alliance is genuinely meant to support the two nations in trading and military. However, King Amadeus… his mind is blurred. There is a dark force there beyond his will. I could feel it. Someone, or something, is controlling him.”
Kyllian almost dreaded to ask the next question. “What do you mean?”
Sandros hesitated, and the slight pause just made Kyllian more apprehensive. “I think…I think it is the crystal, Kyllian,” the seer said at last. “It is awake, alive, and it somehow managed to gain control of Amadeus.”
“But how could that happen?”
Sandros arched a brow. “It is a necromantic crystal. It’s been keeping life energies at bay for ages. Absorbing the shape-shifting attempts of the wyrms must have given it the ability to become sentient. As for the king…People are vulnerable to dark magic when in times of great emotional distress. I believe he truly meant to help his son Valderr by hiding him, but something went wrong. The extreme guilt of knowing himself the reason of Valderr’s suffering made him a perfect prey.”
Unfortunately, that made far too much sense. Kyllian remembered earlier comments of Alcharr, who’d explained their father had changed a lot. But how did they fight an accumulation of energy? How could they defeat something that held so much magic and power?
“The king will try to kill his child and Yanentah tomorrow—or rather, the crystal will, through its puppet. To stop him…I would say you’d have to remove Amadeus from its sphere of influence. I believe it is possible to destroy the crystal here on Uli. In the astral plane, it’s a whole different matter, but the conduit here should be vulnerable to your magic, and anyone else’s, for that matter.”
Kyllian hummed thoughtfully. “But destroying it here will only be a temporary fix, right? The crystal will appear again, on its own, given that it’s sentient.”
Sandros nodded. “I’m afraid so. To prevent such a thing from happening, you’ll have to face it in the astral realm. I will help you, of course. I still have friends, and I will contact them as soon as possible. But still, this, my friend, is a battle I’m not sure we can win.”
Kyllian waited as Yane and Alcharr processed what he’d just told them. It was a very serious situation, and he would need their complete and utter trust if they were going to stop a disaster from happening.
“Did you contact Sassaki and Hash?” Yane finally asked.
Kyllian nodded. He’d sent a message to the dragon shifter as soon as he’d left Sandros’s shop. In truth, the two shape-shifters were in danger now, and Kyllian half wished he’d never have told them to watch the crystal. But then, he’d never suspected the extent of the evil within the thing.
“I told them to keep away from it, yes, and to leave the astral plane as soon as possible. If they stay in Almareya for a day or so, they should be all right. I only hope they’ll listen.”
“Gods,” Alcharr whispered. “I can’t believe this. My father is behind Valderr’s kidnapping? Are you certain?”
Kyllian nodded. He almost wished he could have kept that part to himself, but even the slightest bit of secrecy could damage their tenuous friendship. Information was vital if they intended to beat this thing.
“I’m sorry, Alcharr. I wish I had better news.”
“At least we know,” Alcharr replied, his voice dim and defeated. “What will I tell Valderr?”