The Flames of Deception - A Horizon of Storms: Book 1 (17 page)

“
Your Grace, it is bad
enough
to risk the princess going on this
journey, but for you to come as well…” Thadius
said.

“
King Arwell, it is going to be difficult enough to
hide the presence of the princess when she is surrounded by a
cortège of guards. With the king joining us as well, word
will
spread. We don’t
know
who
is breaking the dragon from his prison. We don’t know how
much they
already
know about your daughter. The less of a fuss that is made,
then the better our chances will be. I would not advise you to
come,” Matthias said. The king looked sternly at
him.

“
You
must
stay father,” the princess said sadly. “I would
have you come with me, but if I do not succeed, then your kingdom
will need its king to be here to prepare for the dragon’s
arrival.”

The
king looked pained, but eventually, after a moment, he nodded.
“Very well,” he said gruffly, and added: “The women always claim to
know best, do they not?”

“
The world has known no other truth for
hundreds
of years,” Matthias
replied.

Matthias returned to his room a little later, guarded from
the outside now, of course, where he was left to his own devices.
Beforehand the king had allowed him, begrudgingly, to venture into
the city, escorted by two soldiers, where he had proceeded to lay
invisible lines of energy across some of the more common routes up
to the palace. If a demon were to trip them, he would know about
it.

When
he arrived back at his room, his staff stood propped up against a
chair, collected from where he had left it in the corridor earlier.
He was glad of its return, having had it for so long. He used it,
like many wizards, as a conduit to channel the earth power, which
all wizards of Mahalia wielded. He could channel the power without
it of course, but with its help he was able to better focus his
strength and use the energy to greater effect. Other wizards used a
staff as well for the same reason, whilst some others preferred
wands or even, in some rare cases, swords or lances. But he found
the staff to be adequate and given its sentimental value, he would
not be parted with it for any other prop. That walk in the forested
countryside, where he had found the branch seemed such a long time
ago now and yet, in the great scheme of the world’s life, he was
but a tiny step forward.

He sat in one the chair beside it and grasped its
gnarled, bulbous top, patting it thoughtfully. He had disobeyed his
master’s order to kidnap the princess. Pym would not be happy at
that. But then again, it would not be the first time he had shirked
his elders. He was confident that this way
was
better, with the
cooperation
of the princess rather than resorting
to coercion, as was so often the case with his
people.

He
fumbled in his bag and pulled out the communication orb, placing it
on the table in front of him. He would speak with Pym later that
day and let him know what was happening. First he needed some time
to rest. He hadn’t slept in the cell and he couldn’t remember the
last time he had actually drifted into unconsciousness. He eased
himself out of the chair and moved to the bed, crawling on top of
the goose - feather duvet and arranging himself into a cross -
legged position, his staff resting horizontally over his
knees.

“
Time to meditate,” he whispered to himself. “Then perhaps I
can clear my mind enough to find sleep again.” He closed his eyes
and steadied his breathing, drawing in the air through his nostrils
and exhaling it back out through his mouth. He tried to block out
the cawing of crows somewhere outside the window. After uncountable
minutes had passed, Matthias felt his head start to grow heavier
and images began to dance in front of his mind, as he entered a
deep, dream - like state.

He was standing in the centre of a street, the
cobbles beneath his feet shattered and scorched. His clothes
appeared unchanged and he had his staff in his hand. Where was he?
He looked around. The sky was a ruddy orange, dense with clouds.
His ears pricked at the sound of crackling wood and a multitude of
voices. No, they weren’t voices. They were screams and wails.
Around him, buildings sprung up from the ground and instantly burst
into flames and then, swooping across his vision, the silhouette of
the Great Dragon Sikaris soared through the sky. He stepped back in
shock a moment until his mind caught up with his instincts. He knew
he was meditating and so in no danger but still, it all
seemed
very
real. These were the events of the past. Or at least, it
was his mind’s representation of them. He was in Crystal Ember, the
capital city of Olindia, and this was the last day of the greatest
war ever fought. This was the day the dragon was
captured.

He started forward, following the direction of the
dragon’s flight. The creature swept down towards the buildings
below and flame burst from his lungs. The buildings turned to smoke
and the scene altered, and Matthias was standing elsewhere in the
city. There was an almighty explosion and then the sky erupted
above him. Around the dragon energy struck him in many forms:
lightning bolts and piercingly sharp icicles rained down onto his
back from the clouds. Flashes of power lit up the darkness and
forced the creature down to the ground. He could not make out the
beast’s features from where he stood: he was a dark shadow in his
mind’s eye. Against his black form a hundred lassoes of power
wrapped around the beast, looping his neck, grasping his arms and
legs and tightening around his tail. Sikaris strained against them,
ripped several from his body, the energy shattering as they broke
pulled him to the ground. All around the dragon wizards conjured up
more of the vibrant energy ropes and pinned him down. The beast
roared and tugged the restraints as the men approached him and
began to place their hands all across his body. From their palms,
sandy-light rippled outwards with a crunching noise until they
covered the entire beast’s form. The energy glowed and the wizards
stepped back. Sikaris broke free from the restraints and flapped
his wings. He bent down to survey the people beneath him and
roared, and then, with a
whoosh
the light around his body faded and the creature
turned to stone, petrified.

A
knock at the door pulled Matthias out of his meditation suddenly.
He beckoned entrance and a maid came into his room carrying a tray
of fruits and a porcelain teapot, steaming from its
spout.

“
Compliments of the king,” the maid advised, before bowing her
way out of the room.

Matthias smiled at the teapot. “He must have had
some squirrelled away,” he pondered to himself. “Though
why
would you show such
generosity to me now after all the events of the day? Unless
it’s
poisoned
, of course!” He shook his head and smiled, raising the cup
to his lips. But before he took a sip he paused and lowered it
again and then, rifling in his bag again, pulled out a small wooden
strip and dipped it in the liquid before removing it again and
shaking it several times. He held it up to the light. The wood
turned pink and he breathed a sigh of relief.
No poison
. At least none he was able to
detect. He shook his head again. He was being
foolish
. He cast the wooden tester aside and
took a sip of the tea. The beverage had a mild taste, though with a
spicy tang of cinnamon which struck the back of the throat as he
swallowed, and he let its aroma soothe him as he sat back into a
chair, cup clasped in hand on his stomach, and, finally satisfied
that he was not about to die, admired his surroundings. He had been
too distracted before to fully appreciate the room. It was compact
full of elegant touches. The bed - posts were painted golden, the
rug on the floor made of a fine fur: wolf, he thought, by its feel.
The chair he sat in and its companion opposite were magnificently
upholstered. As he continued his survey an object caught his eye
resting on the top of a cabinet. It was a small, golden, carved
looking glass. He reached a hand out and flicked a finger, his eyes
momentarily shimmering blue. The looking glass lifted off the top
of the cabinet and hovered through the air into his waiting palm.
He admired its craftsmanship and then turned it over to the
reflective glass front, looking at himself in the mirror. Gingerly
he felt up at his cheek and he smiled with a half-hearted chuckle
at the image before him.

“
What would you have all thought eh? Your son in a quest to
save the world, time and an age from when we all were together?” He
looked at his eyes with great deliberation through the slightly
wavy surface of the mirror and his smile faded. He lowered the
glass. “Foolish old Matthias,” he whispered and set it aside.
“Talking to the dead again.” He looked at the backs of his hands.
“So much still to learn, it would seem.”

He yawned suddenly and rubbed at his eyes. He knew
he was tired, but his head suddenly seemed as if it might fall off
and roll away from the
floor
, it felt so heavy. He placed his hands to either
side of the chair to push himself up.
Time for sleep,
he said to himself. But he
couldn’t muster the strength to rise again from the chair. He fell
back into the comfortable hold of the chair.
Oh well, perhaps I will just
rest here then…

He
didn’t remember falling asleep, but the next he knew he was being
awoken by someone kicking his right foot. His eyelids opened under
duress. It was night! How long had he been asleep? Shadows flitted
about in the gloom, cast by the light of a dozen candles sitting in
a candelabrum on the table to the far side of the room. As his eyes
focussed, the shadowy figure of Thadius emerged in his vision,
sitting in the chair opposite him. He sat up in
surprise.

“
Did
I wake you?” Thadius asked.

“
Yes!
” Matthias exclaimed, trying to wake up quicker
than his body would let him. “But don’t let it
bother
you!” he said with
distaste.

“
Oh, I
wasn’t
bothered,” Thadius replied.

“
What… what are you
doing
in here?” the wizard
asked.

Thadius leaned forward, “Tea?” he beckoned to
Matthias, picking up the pot. Then, feeling the lack of warmth on
his hand, added: “
Cold
tea?”

“
No, thank y-,” Matthias began and then stopped
just as abruptly. Realisation dawned. “Oh. So it
was
poisoned?”

“
Not
poison
,” Thadius said. “Just something to help
you
sleep
.”

“
But I tested it for
contamination!
” Matthias retorted, running his
hands through his hair.

“
Well perhaps we have some of our
own
tricks up our
sleeves,” Thadius smirked.

“
Why?” Matthias asked angrily.

“
Because the king wanted me to check you didn’t
have
anything
else on you that could be used against us. He was hoping
there might
even be something on your person that would cast your
stories into doubt.”

Matthias gritted his teeth. “I don’t have anything
to hide here! I’ve told you
everything
you need to know!”

“
Oh
I know, I searched your bag while you slept,” Thadius advised. “I
suspected that we wouldn’t find anything else of note
there.”

“
You think I have
hidden
something then?” he asked
irritably.

Thadius shook his head. “No, I don’t. Believe it
or not, I think you really
have
told us everything. But the king wanted to be
sure. He is worried about sending his daughter off with you
wizard.
Very
worried. And I did as I was ordered. I put you to sleep and
checked your belongings. If it puts the king’s mind at ease then
more the better.”

“
He should be
more
concerned with the people who are out there trying
to bring the dragon down on us!” Matthias exclaimed, grabbing the
teapot from the table and pulling off the lid. He sniffed the
liquid tentatively. “Oh. You used
turtleweed!
Of
course
.”

“
Impervious to your testing methods. Or so the king told
me.”

“
It’s also incredibly
rare
in these parts.”

“
The
king knows some well-travelled people,” Thadius
shrugged.