The Kings' Despair

By Ed Cannon

The Kings Despair concludes the trilogy began in The Kings’ Assassin and continued in The Kings Death. Sillik and his companions make their final preparation for the war that is coming.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Apr 9, 2024
• ISBN: 9798369419076

Ed Cannon

Ed Cannon grew up in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma and graduated college with a BS in electrical engineering from Oklahoma State University. He is a member of Kappa Sigma Fraternity. He moved to Kansas after college to get his first engineering job. His career has been associated with aviation and the certification of aircraft. He has a Third Dan Black Belt in Tae Kwon Do and taught for several years at a local YMCA. He enjoys camping, fishing, and photography. He is married to a Mechanical Engineer and his sons are both engineers. The original idea for this book began while in college. Fifty pages or so were written on an electric typewriter and then later transferred to a Apple IIe. From there, a printout of the story sat, collecting dust, until it was eventually scanned page-by-page and transformed into the story you see today.

Book preview

The Kings’ Despair

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Ed Cannon

Copyright © 2024 by Ed Cannon.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Cover, map, and illustrations by Jenny Eickbush: www.jennyeickbush.com

Rev. date: 04/04/2024

Xlibris

844-714-8691

www.Xlibris.com

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Contents

Prologue: A Plan to Hide

Second Prologue: Training Plans

Third Prologue: The Watchers

Chapter 1 Dragons Rising

Chapter 2 Surprise Attack

Chapter 3 The King of Salone Hunts

Chapter 4 Negotiations

Chapter 5 The Thieves Will Kill

Chapter 6 Illicia Burns

Chapter 7 Kendra Requests a Favor

Chapter 8 All the Great Houses

Chapter 9 Time for a Withdrawal

Chapter 10 Georgetta’s Gift

Chapter 11 The Bloody Head

Chapter 12 The Hand of Death

Chapter 13 Changing of the Guild Master

Chapter 14 Retrieval

Chapter 15 Assassins for Hire

Chapter 16 Steal the Damn Box

Chapter 17 A New Job for the Hand

Chapter 18 Forms Practice

Chapter 19 The Return of a Soul

Chapter 20 An Attack

Chapter 21 A Child

Chapter 22 The Hand Hunts

Chapter 23 Open the Box

Chapter 24 The Lost Ballad

Chapter 25 God’s Despair

Chapter 26 Map Pieces

Chapter 27 Morning

Chapter 28 Climb the Ladder

Chapter 29 Opening of the Vault

Chapter 30 The Day of the Dead

Chapter 31 Arguments

Chapter 32 The Battle Lords

Chapter 33 The Dragon Throne

Chapter 34 The Two Moons

Chapter 35 Revelations

Chapter 36 Westron on Fire

Chapter 37 Complications

Chapter 38 Georgetta Strikes

Chapter 39 Another Argument

Chapter 40 Setting the Stage

Chapter 41 Council of Nine

Chapter 42 Trouble in the Gold Tower

Chapter 43 Politics in the City of Illicia

Chapter 44 Strange Scrolls

Chapter 45 Julianne’s Test

Chapter 46 Dreams

Chapter 47 Where Were You?

Chapter 48 Demons, Creams, and Candies

Chapter 49 Battles in the Surf

Chapter 50 Mirrors

Chapter 51 Quiet Time

Chapter 52 Missing Soldiers

Chapter 53 Testing

Chapter 54 The Return of Dead Uncles

Chapter 55 A Plan Comes Together

Chapter 56 Warrior’s Test

Chapter 57 Departure and Kidnapping

Chapter 58 Introductions

Chapter 59 The Red Belt

Chapter 60 Your Job

Chapter 61 Rat Hunting

Chapter 62 Intrigue

Chapter 63 Bribes

Chapter 64 To Trap a Goddess

Chapter 65 Training

Chapter 66 Payments

Chapter 67 Astral Projection

Chapter 68 Skirmish

Chapter 69 A Meeting on the Astral Planes

Chapter 70 Battle Plans

Chapter 71 A Cup of Tea

Chapter 72 Returns

Chapter 73 Rebecca’s Revelations

Chapter 74 Family Matters

Chapter 75 Dust

Chapter 76 The Summons

Chapter 77 The Hand of the Healers

Chapter 78 Ametor’s Decision

Chapter 79 Beginning of the Storm

Chapter 80 Promotions and Mercy

Chapter 81 Kendra Gets Advice

Chapter 82 Accidents Happen

Chapter 83 Ametor’s Surprise

Chapter 84 Julianne’s Revenge

Chapter 85 Debt Crisis

Chapter 86 Arrival at Westron

Chapter 87 Moss Haven Forest

Chapter 88 City Council

Chapter 89 Under the Leaves

Chapter 90 Missing

Chapter 91 Thieves and Assassins

Chapter 92 Reunion

Chapter 93 Battle Plans

Chapter 94 The Back Door into Ynak

Chapter 95 The Fall of Ynak

Chapter 96 Gouges

Chapter 97 Breaking the Throne

Chapter 98 More Questions

Chapter 99 The Three Healers

Chapter 100 The Slave Army

Chapter 101 The Blasted Lands

Chapter 102 Fight through the Blasted Hills

Chapter 103 Alden

Chapter 104 The First Battle with the Gods

Chapter 105 The Beginning of the End

Chapter 106 A New Attack

Chapter 107 Entry into the Chamber

Chapter 108 The Blackness

Chapter 109 The Betrayal

Chapter 110 The Chapel of Souls

Chapter 111 Mind Breaker

Chapter 112 The Last Chapter

Epilogue: God Slayer

Second Epilogue: Afterword

Author’s Note

The Illician Chronicles

The Kings’ Assassin

The Kings Death

The Kings’ Despair

To my mother, Judy Fletcher Cannon (1936–2022). My mother always encouraged me to tell good stories when I was little and went hunting imaginary lions and tigers in the backyard.

To Jenny Eickbush, who produced another amazing cover and artwork. See her work at https://www.jennyeickbush.com.

To all my friends, family and others who kept asking how the story was going. Thank you for asking!

Partial lineage of the Royal House of Rendarick, as recorded in the royal archives of the city of Illicia

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*Marks the beginning of each king’s reign.

All dates are relative to the Second Alliance’s victory in the second Demon War.

Illicia officially founded in year 2

Partial lineage of the Royal House of Rendarick, as recorded in the royal archives of the city of Illicia

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*Marks the beginning of each king’s reign.

All dates are relative to the Second Alliance’s victory in the second Demon War.

Illicia officially founded in year 2

The Seven Laws of Magic

1. Adept

2. Magic

3. Ritual

4. Sorcery

5. Conjuring

6. Wizardry

7. Augury

*A master of the seven can unite the separate energies. From the seven comes more.

The Seven Gods

1. Silvia

2. Thessius

3. Anette

4. Agnon

5. Mosas

6. Protos

7. Gaylana

The Nine Gods

1. Nameless

2. Soulcrusher

3. Sight Steeler

4. Mind Breaker

5. Seducer (Minerla)

6. Bone Sharpener

7. Shadow Stealer

8. Stone Breaker

9. Breath of Death

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Excerpt from The Ode to Water

Oh, water, life-giving force in Illicia’s desert land,

Thou art a treasure more precious than grains of sand.

In a city where sun beats down and sand dunes rule,

Thou art the source of life, the quencher of thirst, the cool.

Thou floweth in streams and fountains, a sight so rare,

Bringing life to the barren, making the desert fair.

Thou art the source of hope, the sustenance of all;

Without thee, Illicia would surely fall.

In times of drought, thou art the elixir of life,

A gift from the heavens, free from strife.

Thou art a symbol of resilience, of survival and strength,

A source of pride for the citizens of Illicia at great length.

Oh, water, thou art more than just a drink;

Thou art the reason for life, the missing link.

In Illicia’s desert city, thou art a source of peace,

A precious resource, never to be ceased.

So, here’s a toast to thee, oh, water so divine.

May thou forever flow and make Illicia’s desert shine.

For thou art the source of life, the giver of hope,

And in Illicia, thou will forever help us cope.

—DeChance, circa 6445

The End of the World Is Here

Verse 1:

The lady, she walks alone

Through fields of ash and bone.

She sees the lizards ride,

Pestilence, war, famine, death by her side.

Chorus:

The end of the world is here.

The lady sheds a tear

For all that’s been and gone,

But she must carry on.

Verse 2:

The end of the world is near

When the lady and her riders appear.

With power to bend the very earth,

Their presence brings an end to birth.

Verse 3:

She sees the lizards’ deadly might

In the dead of the darkest night.

Their claws beat like deadly drums

As they ride toward the setting sun.

Verse 4:

Their lizard claws, they pound

The very ground they shake.

The lady trembles with fear,

For the end of the world, they make.

Verse 5:

The lady, she sees the sight

Of the lizards’ deadly might.

She knows they bring the end

But prays for a savior to descend.

Verse 6:

With each step she takes,

The evil’s power makes,

But in the lady’s heart,

Hope still lives, a steadfast part.

Verse 7:

The four lizards ride with the lady fair,

Bringing the end of the world, beware.

Their lizards beat an ominous sound

As they ride across the land, with death all around.

Verse 8:

The lady is the one who leads the way,

With beauty that belies the end of day.

Her voice is like a song, so haunting and low,

And in her eyes, the future’s shadow grows.

Verse 9:

The nine dark gods have descended

With powers no mortal has ascended.

Their minions roam the earth,

Bringing fear and unbridled dearth.

Verse 10:

The Council of Nine has been remade

With new members to the masquerade.

They come with darkness and despair,

And the world will never see repair.

Verse 11:

The king must fear the council’s reign

With power that’s both dark and strange.

The land is plunged into the night,

And all that’s left is endless fight.

Verse 12:

Despair, despair, the darkest night

Has fallen upon the land in sight.

The gods and the council reign

And bring an end to joy and pain.

Verse 13:

The king despairs the darkest night

With fears that grip him tight.

The gods and the council unite.

He fears he’ll lose his love tonight.

Let Darkness Reign

From the depths of darkness, the demon shall rise,

Its’ coming foretold by the nine dark gods in the skies.

With powers beyond mortal comprehension, it will reign,

And the Seven Gods of light shall perish, their fate ordained.

The world shall tremble, and darkness shall prevail

As the demons’ minions spread their gruesome tale.

Despair shall consume all, with no end in sight,

For the chosen one shall fall in the final fight.

The fate of the world hangs in the balance

As the demons’ darkness engulfs every inch and every ounce.

The outcome known, the future dark and certain,

The world shall never know thy light again.

—Dark prophesy. Source unknown, date unknown.

First heard in Illicia circa 7050 in the forty-

first year of the reign of King Crinthan II.

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PROLOGUE

A Plan to Hide

With words both bright and true,

I’ll spin a tale for you.

So come, let’s embark on our journey whole

And let the magic of the tale unfold.

—Bard unknown, from the story of Illicia’s founding

Illician Year 9, the City of Salone

A BRIGHT BAR OF white light appeared in the afternoon light. Mini lightning bolts crackled off the bar, and steam began to roll away from the light. The line stretched and grew, then rotated into a circle. A silver curtain inside the circle shimmered, and then a room and a woman were visible.

Margatha, queen of the nascent city of Illicia, lifted her skirts with one hand and stepped delicately over the swirling circle of color and lightning. She wore a cream and tan dress of silk with puffed sleeves, tight waist, and high neck. Embroidery adorned her neckline and the sleeves at her wrists. A circlet of gold sat atop her light brown hair that had a few streaks of gray. Her hair fell below her shoulders in curly waves. She carried a rod in her hand and kept that hand tucked behind her.

A delicate cream veil of silk covered her face, and a necklace of braided gold hung from her neck. In the desert from which she had come, men and women wore veils to protect their faces. In the city of Illicia, veils had become a social accessory for women. Women only lowered their veils for family or close friends.

Her eyes twinkled in delight as she saw her brother. Margatha smiled deeply and, since he was family, lowered her veil so he could see her face and expressions. Her face was smooth, but lines were forming at her eyes and the corners of her mouth. While Margatha’s green eyes shone, there was a depth to them that expressed the horrors and pain she had seen and lived during the demon wars just ten years earlier.

Margatha straightened, and for a moment, a room with an open window that looked out upon a desert was visible inside the circle—before the traveling portal collapsed with a flash of light.

Humbolt, king of Salone, Margatha’s brother, waited calmly before her. His hands were clasped before him and covered in the long sleeves of his robes. Humbolt was lean and muscular, with gray streaks firmly established above his ears. His hair was combed and tied behind his head with a strong V-shaped point in the center of his forehead. Humbolt’s face was hard, angled, and clean-shaven. The exposed skin was deeply tanned, because he spent a great deal of time in the sun. His green eyes matched his sister’s and seemed to have painful depths. Blue robes fell straight around his body and stopped a hand’s width above his sandaled feet. His robes were belted at his waist with a knotted gold-colored rope. The rope and the dark blue of the robes denoted his rank as abbot in the Seven Mysteries of the Divine. His hands were calloused from the martial arts that the devotees of the Mysteries of the Divine were known for.

The order had been started in the city of Inon, thousands of years earlier. Since Inon had been destroyed near the beginning of the demon wars, the members of the priestly military order had been scattered. Humbolt was the last abbot of the order, and only a few other members had followed him here to this island.

Humbolt was standing in a tall, seven-sided room of whitewashed stone near his private chambers. Each side of the room had high, arching openings that served as doors or windows. Delicate drapes of pale blue gauze covered each opening. Despite the gauze, late-afternoon sunlight, bright blue skies, and water beckoned through the fabric. Sea breezes blew the drapes gently. The sound of voices and a child’s laughter could be heard in the distance. Two comfortable leather chairs were isolated near an east-facing window, with a small table between them. No other furniture adorned the room.

Margatha, he said as he held his arms wide in greeting. Welcome to my morning room. My wife and I watch the sunrise from here almost every day. So nice to see you again. I was so sorry when I learned that Rendarick had been killed. He enveloped the woman in an embrace. He kissed each of her cheeks and then stepped back. Let me see you.

The woman nodded and shifted uncomfortably. Ten years since I have seen you, and it still seems like yesterday. It’s humid here on your island, she said as her eyes swept the room. After all my time in the desert, I am not used to moisture. The air at home just seems to pull every bit of water out of you. You, on the other hand, look the same as you did when we said our goodbyes.

I’m sorry, sister, he said sadly. There has been so much to rebuild after the wars, and travel is hard and still very dangerous. You look exhausted. Can I offer you healing? We have healers. Then, tsking, he noticed what she carried in her hands. Is that … he said with a suddenly frightened question.

Yes, it’s the Rod of Altwin. Margatha nodded. And the Star of the South, she added as she touched a flat, nearly unnoticeable pouch of the same material as her dress at her waist. And healing will not deal with what I carry. Thank you for offering just the same.

I don’t want them, Humbolt announced flatly but with a touch of anger. I don’t want what they represent, and I certainly don’t want the power accessible through that rod. It is dangerous.

I’m not giving them to you, my dear brother. Margatha sighed. But I’m going to leave them in various places, and before you ask, only one or two here. She smiled briefly, almost sadly. I thought about keeping the pendants since they can be used to communicate over long distances. But I decided their other purposes were too important, and they needed more protection.

No, Humbolt said in that same defiant tone. I am not going to let you leave them here. I will not permit it. Not here! This is a peaceful island.

Please hear me out, Margatha requested. My brother, please listen before you pass judgment on me.

I don’t want them here, Humbolt said grimly. They will attract the wrong sort of attention. Too many people want them since we sealed that thing and its brethren away. I dare say, some might even want to undo what we did, the fools.

Nodding, Margatha grimaced. Please let me explain. I thought you might object. I’ve visited eight cities in the last two days. Illicia is making very public, diplomatic overtures to many of the older cities. Everywhere else, we are sending soldiers and diplomats for private meetings and dinners. I’ll visit three more after I leave here. My visit here has none of that. My hope is that no one will be able to figure out where I’ve been or who I saw. Or, more importantly, what exactly I might have done in each of those cities. I will be received publicly everywhere but here. That is why I asked for the warding in my note.

What do you have in mind? Humbolt sighed in resignation.

Margatha explained, Remember that summer about twenty-five years ago when we came here as children and Lady Silvia showed us the old city?

I do, Humbolt said as he shifted uncomfortably.

She and I went back there the next day. I never told anyone, Margatha said. She showed me—

Stop! Humbolt demanded. If you plan to bury them in the ruins, that will not be secure. People are always going up there and poking around. They are always finding things. Sometimes they find things they shouldn’t touch.

No, Margatha said with a tired sigh. Well, not exactly. I found a vault of sorts. I suppose that was why Lady Silvia took me there. She must have known it was there. I plan to make a deposit if I can. If I can’t, well, I’ve other options.

Will it be secure? Humbolt asked, suddenly suspicious. I don’t want anybody to be able to open it. But inwardly, he groaned. I have already accepted her premise. That rod in particular, it can make people too powerful and could lead people astray and into temptations. No good has ever come from it. Even Father was tempted to do more than he should have. That is why he died.

I am going to hide the rod and make it as secure as I can. Margatha nodded with a grin. You know my fondness for unorthodox uses of the seven laws. I’ve planned it all out. I’ve made other vaults in Illicia, just to test the basic magic. I will key the vaults to other artifacts that I’ve brought. Then I’m going to disperse those artifacts. Our sister, Tricerta, will get the key, and Rendarick’s brother will get my star.

What about the rest of the damn things? Humbolt wondered.

Illicia will keep the sword. It has already been securely locked away in the vaults. We finished the inner city last year. Five years to carve the towers and the walls. Construction of the outer city and the main walls will begin soon. We need to plan very carefully, Margatha said. Now, the rest of the artifacts. The torc has been remade into a crown. Illicia will keep that as well.

Could I ask a favor? Humbolt asked as he shifted uncomfortably.

Margatha nodded.

Can you take my star and do something with it as well? I don’t want it, and I don’t want the memories it brings when I look at it. The price we paid was steep. Twenty went into that damn crypt, and only seven of us came out. Thirteen souls were destroyed in that place, and they will never enjoy peace or rebirth.

Hesitating, Margatha thought quickly. I could deposit it here, I suppose. I thought to leave my own, but perhaps Rendarick’s brother might like two. It might make him more conducive to keeping them. Hells, he might even use them. That might draw eyes to him. Which might not be a bad thing. I will have to think about it.

What are you going to use as the key? Humbolt asked.

Margatha grinned. I thought I mentioned it, but our sister has it. Were you aware that it was two pieces? The crystals screw together. I never noticed until I gave it to her.

I never looked at it, Humbolt said carefully.

Father’s ring is the last of the things, Margatha said slowly. We’ve recast it, but the magic and the memories remain. I will forever have our father in here, she said as she touched her forehead. The good and the bad. I’m also going to use blood so that our bloodline will unlock some, and my husband’s bloodline will unlock some of the rest.

That means your sons will be able to unlock everything, Humbolt observed.

Margatha’s expression tightened around her lips. Humbolt thought he saw the briefest of smiles. Maybe, she said enigmatically. But perhaps not. You forget who you are talking to.

Humbolt grunted. I wager I do. I assume you have this all planned out, like you always do. Someone might have to be able to get these things back.

I am trying to make sure that several people have to be involved, Margatha explained deliberately. "If only one person can retrieve all the artifacts, then one person could in theory unlock that thing. I’m not going to place all that responsibility or risk on my children or their children. I do not want them tempted by the power we used. It’s bad enough that they will grow up hearing stories of what we did. The fact that none of them will be true doesn’t help. And I don’t want any true record of what we did to be written down either," Margatha said with a stern look at her brother.

I don’t think I could write it down, Humbolt responded. Your husband did the work. I was only a source of power as I guarded the door.

Margatha laughed quietly. Dear brother, remember, the nine are so devious. I don’t want one person to be able to gather and use the artifacts for any purpose other than protecting the world like we did.

What if a bloodline dies out? Humbolt wondered.

Margatha shook her head with a strange expression. I thought about that. Let’s just say I have backup plans in case one or all the lines fail. It’ll be harder but still possible for a dedicated group of people to retrieve what they need … once I’ve hidden the items.

Humbolt nodded and bowed his head. I pray to the Seven Gods that they never have to face what we did.

I, too, share your prayers, Margatha answered as she bowed her head momentarily. If it were up to me, I would destroy most of the items. But Lady Silvia has said that there is a slim risk that someone in the distant future might need them.

What of the knife? Humbolt asked. You haven’t said anything about it.

Sighing, Margatha answered, I’ve something special planned for it. Sadly, it’s now too dangerous to handle or to touch. Did you hear how Rendarick was killed?

Yes, Humbolt answered. An assassin, we heard. I’m so very sorry.

Well, the assassin part is sort of true, Margatha answered with a bitter laugh. We didn’t publish all the facts. It comes down to this. Soulcrusher wanted to steal the cursed rod, but it was on the bed with us. Rendarick’s sword rattled when Soulcrusher got close. It does that, you remember, whenever a dark god approaches. The damn sword alerted us. Rendarick jumped out of bed and grabbed the weapon. My husband and Soulcrusher fought. Soulcrusher had a lessor weapon. Rendarick’s sword eventually destroyed it. When Soulcrusher’s blade was destroyed, he stumbled backward. Rendarick managed to deliver a belly wound to the god. It wasn’t a killing blow but would have been if Soulcrusher hadn’t fallen against the table in our room. The knife was on the table. Soulcrusher grabbed it with one hand while he held his wound. He dodged Rendarick’s next blow and threw the knife, and it killed my husband.

You were there? Humbolt asked, stunned. You saw this? How terrible, my sister.

We were asleep, Margatha answered simply. The sword rattling woke us up. I grabbed the rod while they fought. Rendarick had given me the ring to wear around my neck as a wedding gift. We didn’t have much. When Rendarick was struck and knew he was dying, he tossed his sword to me.

Why didn’t Soulcrusher attack you?

Margatha laughed bitterly. I held the rod. As Rendarick died, the rod tuned itself to me. Then I had the sword. With the Rod of Altwin, the holy sword Avenger, and Father’s ring, I was able to draw enormous power. Maybe as much as Rendarick did when he sealed that thing away. I wanted to kill Soulcrusher and tear him apart. I knew Rendarick was dead, and my grief made me more powerful than I had ever been. I was fearless in my grief and drew far more power than I should have. But, also, the god was wounded badly. Apparently, it’s difficult for dark gods to heal cuts from a sword blessed by the Seven Gods. I guess he just didn’t want to try his luck twice that night.

You were lucky, Humbolt concluded. So why is the knife dangerous?

Margatha sighed. Belly wounds bleed, as you know. Soulcrusher was injured and then grabbed the knife blade first. We think the knife either cut his hand or blood from his wound got on the blade. We believe a bit of his essence, his soul, if gods have souls, became attached to the weapon. The blade was magical already. Either way, Soulcrusher somehow corrupted the blade and gave it almost a sentience or awareness somehow. The theologians, if they knew, would be debating that for centuries. Obviously, I didn’t tell them. The damn knife tried to kill me when I removed it from my husband’s chest. It can move by itself. It’s like it has a mind of its own—a very evil mind—and it can fly through the air. It’s now very dangerous and unreliable. It feels evil if you touch it. I had to take several extra precautions to make sure no one can touch it or release it. Only one of our bloods will be able to release it.

By … our blood? Humbolt asked in a confused tone.

You, me, or our sister. But not my descendants …

Isn’t that dangerous? Humbolt asked.

I don’t want my children involved in this either. You should take them out of your plots.

Margatha shrugged. It’s a risk, and I couldn’t think of a better idea. It’s well protected and secure.

What happened next?

Margatha laughed bitterly. I wish Soulcrusher had attacked me. I might have been able to bring Rendarick back, at least as a god. I had summoned every bit of power I could through that damn rod and the sword. I have no idea what it must have looked like to a weakened and wounded god. I was moving to attack when he fled like the coward he is. Now my only chance to see my beloved is when I enter the Seven Halls. We will be reunited forever … then.

I am surprised you are just going to hide the rod away. I am glad but surprised. I thought you of all people could use it and not kill themselves, Humbolt said. Why?

Power has a cost. It always has unexpected ramifications, and that can be more than we want to pay, Margatha explained. Besides, I want this thing forgotten, she said as she touched the leather case holding the rod. If the threat of the demon hadn’t been so great, Father wouldn’t have taken the risk and retrieved the rod from where it was hidden after the city of Inon was destroyed. Margatha paused to look around. No, I believe the Rod of Altwin should be lost to the ages. Or almost. I will leave some clues in various locations, so if future generations need to fix what we did, they can find what they need. The ring still contains the memories, so if the need arises, it will be one of my backup plans. I took a bit of each talisman and added them to the ring when it was recast. It will help find everything, should the need arise.

Not everyone who has worn that ring has access to the memories, Humbolt said thoughtfully. Our grandfather couldn’t, nor his father before him. Then Humbolt looked up. You have the ring. Can you? Humbolt asked with a bit of hunger in his eyes. There are things … no, never mind.

I have the ring, Margatha said slowly, her eyes narrowing slightly. And I obviously have its memories. I wanted to have my husband’s memories so I would know what he did. Father’s memories … She paused. Father’s secrets ceased to have any meaning when Inon was destroyed, and I am not going to spend any time on his intrigues.

Humbolt nodded with a troubled expression and a strange look in his eyes.

I’ve done what I can, Margatha said in a lighter tone. She tilted her head and lifted her shoulders a little. I have made some memories dependent upon possession of most of the artifacts, so there are several layers of protection against it being found. I won’t bore you with all the details.

Humbolt nodded with a faraway and mournful expression. You seem to have thought of everything. He paused and then continued. So many people died in the wars and in that last battle. You always had a backup plan. What was your backup plan when the twenty of us went into that grotto there at the end?

My backup plan was to succeed or die trying. If we failed, at least we would be beyond caring, then let someone else fix it.

Humbolt nodded. I had a similar plan. Seems like your new plan is sound.

Margatha frowned. I had some help, one of the seven. They don’t know everything, or where things are going, but they know some of it.

They probably know more than you suspect, Humbolt said. They have an uncanny ability to figure out our secrets. Let me guess. Lady Anette? You always had a special relationship with her.

No, Margatha said as she bit her lip with a little smirk.

Okay then. Be mysterious. You will do what you want with or without my permission. Humbolt sighed. Like you did when we were growing up.

Nodding, Margatha said, Not this time. This is for the ages. I don’t dare believe that what we did will last forever. If there is a flaw in my reasoning, I need you to tell me. Be my conscience and tell me if I am wrong. Do I have your permission then?

Sometimes I lie awake at night and worry about whether we did it right. I pray we did everything right, but in my nightmares, I doubt it was perfect, Humbolt said quietly. And then with more energy, he said quickly, I see no flaw in your reasoning and must assume the creature we locked away will return. So yes, I suppose you do have my permission. Even if I said no, I suspect I couldn’t prevent you from doing what you want. Once you set your mind to something, you are unstoppable. From a pocket within his robes, he produced a flat case of red leather. That is the pendant that I was given. I suspected you had a plan. I came prepared, he said as he handed her the case.

I like your island, Margatha announced as she glanced at the window and slipped the case into her pouch. It feels comfortable, she added.

Anything would be comfortable after that harsh desert you moved to. Humbolt then turned a questioning look at his sister. But why the desert? It seems like there would be a lot of places more hospitable.

Margatha shrugged. Lady Anette said to follow her. We did. Then the other six gods showed up, and they each pointed to things we could use—wells that have never run dry, metals to mine, the ideal spot to build a city. Now, in retrospect, we will be incredibly rich, and we are incredibly well protected. Anyone who tries to attack us will have to fight the desert as well as us. Their supply lines will be long and tenuous. The desert is also full of dangers that will make it difficult for anyone who wishes us ill.

I have heard that there are fearsome warriors that live in the desert, Humbolt said.

The nomads. Margatha nodded. We have only had sporadic fighting with them. They are good, but Father’s infantry men were as good. For the most part, they seem to just be watching. You see them at dawn and dusk on the mountaintops around the city. Always a woman in their desert robes. Watching or waiting. We don’t know. On the few occasions, when we do talk, they won’t acknowledge the watchers. But the heat in the desert isn’t too bad. It’s much cooler than the hell around that damn crypt. Then Margatha changed the subject. What are you going to do with your island?

We are going to make a school here, Humbolt announced proudly. A school to teach the seven laws. The first test will be to get to the island, he said with a chuckle.

That would be nice, Margatha replied. I have two sons. Someday I hope to teach them the seven laws.

You would be a good teacher, Humbolt agreed.

Brother, I may not see you again, Margatha began apologetically. The god Agnon taught me how to travel through torn air. But he said I would only be able to do it a limited number of times. It grows harder each time. I plan to travel four more times, and then I will not use his knowledge again. I will let the secret die with me and not teach it to anyone. When I leave the rod here, the last trip home unaided will be the hardest.

I wondered how you were managing that. Never fear. We will be reunited in the Seven Halls, Humbolt said. I’ve no doubt of that, and I will not ask where you are going next.

Thank you, brother, Margatha said as she reached out and put her hand on her brother’s arm. There are only four of us left of the seven who survived that grotto. I pray for the ones who didn’t come out. Who will never come out. Who will never go home.

I pray for them too. I’m aware of how many are left, Humbolt said sadly. We have all scattered to the seven winds. None of us will stand together again, but whatever we did has left a connection between all of us. Always remember that we will all walk the Seven Halls again together. When one passes, we all feel it. I felt the passing of Lord General Pettigru. I always liked him.

I should also tell you that Rendarick was afraid his bones would be turned into a religious talisman, so he asked me to bury his body secretly, away from Illicia. We made a big ceremony of burying him in the floor of the throne room in Illicia. We even buried a mage in his place, Margatha explained. Then, with the help of Lady Silvia, I returned his body to Nerak and the catacombs there. Rendarick’s brother, the king of Nerak, knows and approved, but no one else. There are not many who remember where Rendarick came from, and we moved the body in secret. It is an unmarked grave, as he requested. I will be buried beside him when my time comes. I made Lady Silvia promise. When I have left this world, know that I am with my love.

I will remember, and I will keep that secret, Humbolt promised quietly, not daring to meet her eyes. He blinked several times to clear his vision.

I have one last thing to request, Margatha said as she produced a small scroll from a hidden pocket. I have written down the steps to storing power like we did before we entered the Crypt of Souls. Would you look at it and see if I captured it correctly? You developed the process.

Of course, Humbolt said as he took the scroll and unrolled it.

Margatha waited patiently and stared into the distance while her brother read.

It seems complete, Humbolt announced. Is this part of your plan?

Perhaps, Margatha said with an evasive tone.

If I were going to leave something like that, I think it should be written in a code or some way to disguise it, Humbolt offered in a flat tone.

I was thinking the same thing, Margatha answered with a secretive expression. I will do something to make it less obvious, but I wanted the basic process first.

Humbolt nodded. I would invite you to stay for dinner. I had also hoped to introduce my wife and sons to you. I suspect, however, that you will refuse my offer for a meal.

Margatha sighed. I wish, dear brother, that I could. I would love to meet your wife and sons. I just can’t. The risks are too great. I am glad that you have found happiness.

Humbolt shifted his weight as he absorbed his sister’s words. "I am hosting several envoys, and I am asking them to invest in our schools. Now that the wars are over, the cities will have money to spend. And I think a school dedicated to the seven laws here would set us apart and attract funding.

Brother, we have found some amazing gold, silver, and precious gems in the desert. We have already started digging mines. The city of Illicia will have vast wealth in the years to come. I will speak to the right people, and Illicia will invest. We are establishing our own schools and using the guidelines of the Initiates of the Divine to model our teachers of the seven laws. I think we are going to set them apart like other religious orders. But it makes sense to have multiple schools going forward since Inon was destroyed, Margatha replied. I miss our home sometimes. But the demon destroyed it and scattered us to the seven winds.

Humbolt nodded. I thank you, sister, he said with a bow. As the last abbot of the Divine Knights of Inon, I am honored. Our schools will be, how do I say this … public and accessible to all with the skill. Then he stepped forward and kissed her cheeks. Go in the peace and love of the Seven Gods, my sister.

Nodding, Margatha whispered, I must go now, brother. Be well and enjoy this life. I will look for you in the Seven Halls. As we now say in the desert, may you always find shade. She glanced away for a moment while a line in the air seemed to explode in a kaleidoscope of color and a whirlwind of swirling streaks. Then the line stretched and rotated until a circle as tall as Margatha stood before them. The edges of the circle crackled and popped. Inside the circle, a room appeared that was dim, with crystal windows in the background. Calmly, she lifted her skirts and stepped into the opening. It slammed shut behind her, and Humbolt was alone.

Go in peace, my sister, Humbolt said quietly to himself. He then prayed, Father, if you are watching over us, please protect her and give her guidance. She is playing a dangerous game.

SECOND PROLOGUE

Training Plans

Oh, fliers of Aceon, noble and true,

Protectors of the skies, we honor you.

With every flight, you light the way

And lead us into a brighter day.

—Unknown Aceon poet

Illician Year 7071, the City of Illicia

K ING SALDOR OF Illicia escorted his guest, the wing leader of Aceon, to a doorway near the top of the keep. These rooms have been set aside for you and your staff. Your men will be given accommodations close by. My page, Derreck, will attend to your needs. Whatever you need, if it is within our abilities, he will get it.

The wing leader of Aceon, Domarick, frowned as he rubbed his hand that had the missing finger. Right now, I would just like to wash the stink of the ride off. My lady wife, the queen of Aceon, may the winds always favor her, would be haranguing me to clean up.

Dinner will be at six bells tonight, King Saldor said with a grin. It will be a state dinner for you and all your senior staff. We can talk more during dinner and privately afterward. Charlesa’s father—you met her when you landed—passed away just after your arrival, and I should be with her when she visits the body. She was saying prayers for him in the cathedral when he passed, so it has been a shock to her and a relief. He was in terrible pain, and the healers couldn’t help. Sometimes that happens. Anyway, I apologize, but she is like a wife to me, even though I never married her, and we must pay our respects.

I understand. Domarick nodded sadly. We must do what we must for the people around us the most. Please extend my condolences on her loss.

I do apologize for delaying our conversations. I hope we don’t offend you, Saldor stated.

No offense. Frankly, I need a bit of rest. We flew the last bit during the nights, as you suggested in your letters, and the shift back to days has left me more tired than I expected, Domarick explained. My men and I will be pleased to attend dinner, and I believe we have much more to discuss. It has been an interesting morning already.

Yes, Saldor said as his eyes lost their focus for a moment. I really have no idea what got into my son’s mind. I do hope you will forgive him.

The wing leader laughed. Nothing to forgive, especially if the goddess put him up to it, as he said. He has no fear. That one will be a man to be reckoned with. Like I said on the tower top, I have daughters …

Saldor nodded. When they are older, we can have that discussion. Until dinner then. Derreck will show you the way. Your men are being informed and given access to the steam rooms so they can bathe as well.

Very well, Domarick answered as he stepped into the room.

King Saldor grunted and then turned and left while the page said, Your Grace, I await your needs.

Fine, fine, Domarick said as he pushed the doors closed and paused momentarily by leaning his head against the stone.

Domarick turned and surveyed the rooms he had been assigned. A wide balcony against the outside wall faced west and was drenched in full sunlight. The walls were polished granite that glowed with browns and gold veins. The tiled floor was patterned in complex geometric patterns. The ceiling was painted with fanciful scenes that Domarick supposed were from the Illician histories. Glow balls floated near the ceiling; Domarick felt the magic radiating from them and knew he could turn them on with little effort. Swords of varying shapes and styles were mounted to walls beside the doorways. A large dining or meeting table was centrally located, with four bedrooms branching off. For a moment, he paused and considered the generations of diplomats and guests that had probably spent time in these rooms. Without a doubt, they would be some of the biggest names in history from all the major cities.

Domarick turned and slowly walked into the room. Despite the dry, dusty scent, he could also smell the sweetness of water and soon found a large bowl on top of a side table. Sighing with anticipation, he removed his sword from his side and his flying armor of oiled leather. When he saw a cup, he dipped it into the water, then lowered his face close to the water so he could splash it onto his face and hair.

As expected, the water was cool and sweet and ran down his back with cool showers when he stood.

Well? a woman’s voice demanded from behind him. Did the boy touch the bird?

The wing leader spun in surprise, his hand reaching for the hilt of his sword. In the next instant, he relaxed. Damn it, Lady Silvia, don’t surprise me like that! It ain’t good for my heart.

The goddess stood to one side of the room between the balcony and the door, as if she could have entered the room from either direction. She was dressed in her customary white, high-necked dress that seemed to glow with a calming white. She seemed to be a young woman, but her eyes looked old. The histories hinted that she was thousands of years older than the oldest city, but every painting and stone carving of her portrayed the same calm, unlined, attractive woman.

The goddess pursed her lips in concentration but repeated her question with just a touch of irritation. Did he touch the bird? She arched her eyebrows in anticipation.

Aye, Domarick answered as he crossed the room. He slid into a chair as water dripped onto his shirt. Damn Illicians. Even their chairs are stone. My ass could use something softer than stone or a saddle. Slowly he leaned back and, using his feet on the back of his heel, pushed his boots off each foot. Grinning, he rubbed his feet and looked up at the goddess. He touched Red Beak just as you predicted and then tried to climb on the back of the same herish, which you did not warn me about. That bird is one of the most touchy and irritable birds we have. He is lucky to still have his arms and fingers, he said as he glanced at his own hand. Gods he is brave at that age. He paused while he pushed his wet hair away from his eyes. I am not sure I would have had the stomach or the balls to do what he did when I was his age.

Lady Silvia grinned. He is going to journey to Aceon when he is a young man. You must allow him to be trained, and he must ride Red Beak’s progeny.

What is so important about a bird that hasn’t even been hatched? Domarick demanded gruffly as he put his feet on the stone floor. Gods alive, even the stone is hot! I hate this gods-damned desert. Give me the coolness of Aceon anytime.

Once upon a time, Lady Silvia began.

Why is that herish important? Domarick demanded angrily.

I will tell you, Lady Silvia retorted sharply. Allow me to tell the story my way. As I said, in the distant past, herish had other abilities. People thought they could anticipate needs; some said they could read the minds of their riders. That made unbreakable bonds between riders and herish. In battle, their skills melded together, and they were one.

I’ve heard that. Never sure I believed it. They say the ability was lost centuries ago—if it ever really existed. What you describe could have simply been good training.

Lady Silvia lifted her chin and eyed the wing leader with disapproval. The ability was real, and that level of ability will return in one herish. It will lead to a rebirth of the ability.

Domarick stiffened and closed one eye as he focused on the goddess in confusion. One bird? A rebirth of the ability, you say? Hmm … that could be useful.

Lady Silvia nodded. Lord Mosas has seen it. He has seen a thousand possible futures. The one future with the most chance of success is the one where that boy, she said as she pointed vaguely above her head, is trained to ride one bird. That bird will give him undying loyalty and protection, and he will need it.

You still believe we are heading toward war, like King Saldor here believes?

I do. The signs are unmistakable, Lady Silvia said with a nod. The nine are making their move. They will threaten some or all of us and attack on many other fronts. Lord Mosas believes they will strike at me or my sisters and try to use humans to kill one or more of us, shifting the balance even more in their favor. Then, we fear, they will try to unleash the demons again and remake the world into one more of their liking. Lady Silvia then asked, Will you allow the boy to be trained when the time comes?

The wing leader hesitated. As wing leader, I usually decide who gets trained. Of course, the queen can overrule me. Our laws don’t generally allow outsiders to fly, but exceptions have been made for honorary citizens or people who have performed a great service to the city.

Laughing, Lady Silvia said, What about marrying the heir to the throne, your daughter?

Aye, that would be notable. Is that what is going to happen? Domarick asked with a grin. That would be a good match for my daughter; my wife would approve. The prince of Illicia, the most powerful and wealthy city in the land, and Nuella, my daughter, the future queen of Aceon.

Lady Silvia laughed. I am sure he will do something that will get your attention. He can’t help himself.

Domarick eyed the goddess and said wryly, With your help? A manufactured crisis where the boy steps in and plays the hero.

I am sure our help will not be required, Lady Silvia said flatly as she arched an eyebrow and faded away.

Damn goddesses, Domarick muttered, never tell you what you need to know.

5.jpeg

THIRD PROLOGUE

The Watchers

In the desert sands, a lady waits.

Her heart is heavy with the weight of fate.

For changes come, both good and ill,

And she must watch and wait, with skill.

New foes have come, with beasts unknown,

And danger lurks in every stone.

But hope still shines, a treaty signed,

A chance for peace if all are kind.

Yet mysteries deepen, questions rise,

And whispers speak of hidden lies.

The lady knows she must be wise,

For the world is shifting, and truth defies.

The Desert

T HE LADY AND the four men who rode with her watched the sun rise as the tops of the Illician towers began to glow. The lizards shifted nervously as they sensed their rider’s mood.

The lady, a clan seer, watched as conflicting emotions warred within her. She sensed things were changing forever. But what and why? There were strangers in the desert who didn’t belong. Strange beasts, dragons, and even stranger men and women. They did not know the desert and did not care. They killed indiscriminately and wasted water at every opportunity. The wells they had found had been destroyed and polluted.

The beasts had killed some of her clans. Even now, the clans were moving in response to their attacks.

The clans had learned that these were different kinds of enemies who responded and reacted differently. Adjustments were being made. Attempts at communication had been rebuffed, and the lady was confused. Were the dragons here to ally with the city of stacked stone or kill them? Were the strangers here to help the clans or become new enemies? They had killed her clansmen, so part of the answer was now obvious.

These new enemies had attacked the people who lived in the city. It was possible they would attack the city this morning. Perhaps the new enemies could destroy the city of stacked stone. Perhaps.

This would bear watching and evaluation. The leader of the people who lived in the city of stacked stone had left a document, a treaty. Such a strange concept, that two peoples who had fought for so long could simply choose to lay down arms. The treaty proposed many new ideas—absence of war, mutual assistance, trade, medicine, water, and even food. It was strange.

Something stranger had happened a short while ago. Unknown uses of the seven laws had been felt atop one of the mountains, and someone had jumped from the tower. Why would someone jump? Surely death would come swiftly to that one.

Now the visitors to the desert were getting restless. The giant beasts with wings were getting restless. They were excited. The even stranger beasts with six arms were moving.

The lady wondered what should be done. Some of her people had suggested an absence of war was unachievable just when peace had been offered. Now there were strangers in the desert—strangers who might try to destroy the city of stacked stone. The strangers had already killed some of the clans. Would the strangers unite with the city of stacked stone against the clans? Or should the peoples of the desert unite against the strangers? It was too soon to tell. What was easy to discern was the gods were restless and searching for a new sense of balance.

CHAPTER 1

Dragons Rising

To Arms

To arms, to arms, the battle cry rings out

As soldiers rush to face the enemy’s doubt.

With shields and swords, they charge ahead,

Their hearts filled with courage, their eyes bright and red.

The clash of metal, the thunder of hooves,

The screams of the wounded, the dying’s grooves.

The battlefield a canvas of death and pain

As armies fight for glory and fame.

To arms, to arms, the battle cry echoes on

As victory draws near and the enemy is gone.

The hero returns, a conqueror and a savior,

His name forever etched in history’s favor.

— DeChance

Illician Year 7086, Illicia, the Morning after Sillik’s Return and after the Attempted Execution of Claudett

S ILLIK STOOD ON the balcony and looked out upon the desert and the morning sun. Two of the moons were still high in the sky; the rest had already set. The sun promised a long, hot day. Sillik had not slept since the battle with the usurper to his throne the night before and the intervention of many of the gods to prevent a battle between himself and the dark god Soulcrusher. Herish, the giant birds of Aceon, were using the tops of the nearby towers as makeshift perches. A few were stretching their wings and preening for flight.

Glancing down, he could see the stones of the courtyard of the keep. Seven towers were inside the inner walls of the city of Illicia; six towers surrounded one tower. Fountains and parade grounds delineated areas around the base of the towers. To one side stood the training grounds where first swords was taught every morning. During the day and evening, other armed and unarmed training was taught. During the heat of the day, awnings were raised to provide shade. But Sillik’s eyes were drawn back to a particular area where a woman had died at dawn this morning.

She had led the coup against him. Rather than face the headsman, she had jumped off the top of this tower less than an hour earlier. A small group of people were still there, cleaning and repairing the stones that had been broken by the impact.

Students on the training ground moved through sword drills as they practiced cuts and blocks. Later, they would start learning the first sword forms. Illicia needed every sword it could muster, and even more would be needed. Sillik remembered his own time on those training grounds as he learned the sword, bow, spear, lance, and knives.

Slowly, he turned to face his wife and the allies he had gathered in his hunt for the assassin who had killed his father. They stood quietly watching. Everyone was tired; no one had gotten much, if any, sleep. His mouth was dry, and his eyes were gritty from lack of sleep. How long has it been? he wondered briefly. Viktorie accidently almost tried to kill me. Then we fought a dragon and snuck into the city and had to kill the imposter. He still couldn’t use the name of the soul that had been implanted into the body of his cousin. That man had been a hero of his, and to find that he had turned to the nine black laws had been shocking.

The room in which they stood was elegantly furnished, befitting the chambers of a wealthy king. Illician eagle banners made of wool and silk hung on the walls, and a large stone table dominated the center of the room, serving both as an informal dining table and a conference table.

Portraits of Sillik’s parents hung on the walls, as well as Charlesa, the woman who had been more of a mother to him, since his own mother had died in childbirth and he had never known her.

Glow balls floated above the table, providing steady light. Candelabra of gilded gold with tall white candles of beeswax were scattered around the room. In addition, sconces for torches were located near the doors and on the balcony. Smoke still rose above some of the candles that had been recently extinguished. Off to the side, hidden by draperies, was the bedchamber.

Nisha, the dour woman who served as the king’s household steward, had led dozens of servants in during the night to cleanse the room of the usurper and anything he might have touched. The room seemed identical to the way it had been before he left to find his father’s assassin. Even the clothes he had left behind were in their rightful places. It was as if he had never been gone and no one had been in these rooms.

At Sillik’s request, the fliers of Aceon had begun to ferry in hundreds of Illician warriors to increase security around the various kings and queens who were traveling with Sillik and Renee. Handrie, the first knight of Nerak, had brought in net tenders to build a net over the city, and their silent warriors stood watch with the Illicians. After all, there had been a few dragons in the desert, and there could be more.

Now, Sillik and his allies gathered to share the morning meal. Dawn was long past, and the sun was rising quickly.

Kenton, the speaker of the gold robes, and Elizabet, his wife and the hand of the healers, stood near the doorway of the king’s apartments.

Briana, the war master, paced back and forth on the balcony, and the red-haired healer Rebecca lingered at the back of the room and tapped her foot nervously, her gold robes