The End of Surrender, page 14
part #4 of The Stalwart Link Series
Andar would have to make the densest wall of Artistry he could. He strained his mind, giving himself a sharp headache as he compacted the Artistry on itself around the light. At the distance at which Andar worked, this was exponentially more difficult than if it was right in front of him. It was also easier to slip up as he felt pieces of the Artistry chipping off because it did not like to be packed together so tightly.
By the time Andar had finished, he had broken out in a sweat. “Please work,” he pleaded to whatever higher powers existed. Perhaps he was speaking to the Artistry itself.
The box of Artistry was heavy on his mind. There was so much weight to it that it wanted to sink. He stopped pushing upward as hard to let it ease down toward him.
Andar couldn’t tell if he was imagining the spark of light drifting down or if it really was happening, but he could feel in his mind that the Artistry was moving.
The strain was nearly unbearable. Andar felt as if the Artistry was armor around the light, and for each moment that passed, the armor was cracking and splintering off. He couldn’t hold it much longer. He risked allowing the dense cluster of Artistry to freefall.
Andar wept with joy as a ball of white light floated down and stopped to rest in the palm of his hand. Tears ran down his cheeks. It wasn’t much light, but he could at least see his immediate surroundings.
An issue remained, however. He didn’t know how much he could let this glowing cluster of Artistry relax before it let the light escape. Leo had described KRenn moving light with him, but Leo had mentioned nothing about extremely concentrated Artistry. There had to be a way to control the light without it.
Eventually Andar came to an idea. He linked the light far above to the cluster of light in his hand. He had not yet preformed a t-link. All he had done was grab the light with Artistry and then move the Artistry. A t-link was different. The Artistry needed to transfer the intensity of the light from above to down below.
Andar didn’t know how to do it. He didn’t have much time. It was too much of a strain to keep the cluster of light encased by Artistry. Soon it would slip out.
He started to panic as no idea came to mind. Finally his grip on the Artistry slipped and a large portion of the concentrated energy broke off.
“No!”
But to Andar’s surprise, the light did not change. Testing, Andar let go of even more of the concentrated Artistry. Again, the light remained. Andar let all of it go so that all he was doing was holding a simple link from the cluster of light in his hand to the light above. It still remained.
Relieved, Andar had a few breaths to try to think through what had happened. He supposed the light in front of him was now linked in such a way that it and the light above did not move unless Andar wanted both of them to move.
No, that wasn’t it. Light was always moving. It probably struck the things around him, and that’s how Andar could see them. The light in his hand was moving, just like the light above. But then why wasn’t this light dissipating?
He gasped as he realized the answer. This simple link was transferring light from way up above to the palm of his hand. As he concentrated very hard, he could sense his Artistry telling him this answer. In the beam that connected the two sources, light was transferring from one to the other. He realized something that he should’ve realized a long time ago. Every link was a t-link, because every link transferred the properties of one thing to another. That was the magic of Artistry.
Now that he understood it, and he understood light, he just had to tell his Artistry to transfer properties in a new way. It must not be an equal transfer. Instead, the Artistry must take all the power, all the intensity of the light above and feed it into the light below.
It didn’t take long before the cluster of light started to grow in Andar’s hand.
“Yes!” he cheered. “Wait, OW!” he yelled as it burned him.
With great haste, he reversed the transfer to lower its intensity.
Soon he had a sphere of light the size of his fist comfortably resting in his hand. He lowered his arm and took a look around him. He could finally see everything he needed to.
Andar would have to figure how to climb while maintaining this link in his hand, for the only opening he found seemed to be the hole he had made when he was spewed into this chasm. Water no longer ran from it. It was probably caved in deeper within, but at least it was a start. There seemed to be enough footholds on the wall for him to make it.
He got his hands in place with the cluster of light squeezing against the wall but still working. Then he began to climb.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Darren feared that Andar might not be alive anymore. They had finally reached Jatn. Darren at least could be proud of the effort that everyone put into traveling as fast as possible. Men had lent their horses to the sick or the weak who could not keep up. Everyone had pushed themselves, including Darren with his now healed leg. They had made great time crossing Aathon. Now it was time to face the next challenge. Darren would get through this as quickly and safely as he could.
Jyrica had told him to speak with her once they arrived. He decided to take her up on this invitation, but he would do so with heavy caution.
“Let me out of this cage now,” she requested.
“No. You are to stay in our custody to ensure there is no betrayal. You are our prisoner, and you said Rizan cares about all people. If he values your life, then he will not attack us.”
“You need me to set up the meeting.”
“If he wishes to avoid combat as you have stated, then he will send someone out to speak with us.”
Jyrica’s face twisted. There was no doubt in Darren’s mind that she would say anything to be released, but what he still couldn’t decipher was what she had planned.
Soon enough, a man rode out of the city. Darren’s younger son stood beside him as they waited for the man to reach them.
“Andar said many of the barbarians had tattoos on their faces,” Leo said. “But Jyrica doesn’t have one, and that man doesn’t either. I’m not sure what it means.”
“Hopefully only the cruel ones have marked themselves.” Darren had heard all about Andar’s encounter with the Disetels. They all had been cruel. Darren could only hope those men and women had been forced to stay behind for this reason. It would make Jyrica’s statements about her people true, but Darren of course planned for the worst. Rizan had obviously heard of DVend Quim leading this group of rebels, which was why he’d sent Jyrica.
If he means for me to let my guard down, he doesn’t know me as well as he thinks.
The man who came to meet them outside the city was bald, his shiny head reflecting the hot sun. He had a round face and a fat belly. He didn’t look like a threat, but Darren still had him searched for weapons before he came too close. He had none.
Darren was proud that his son Leo could protect him from the gathering of Artistry if this fat man was a mage who intended to kill Darren. On Darren’s other side was Lane, another strong mage who Darren trusted with his life. Many people stayed behind but were still close enough to hear, such as Rygen and the officers Darren had grown to trust. Erisena remained near Jyrica, in case she had power over summoned and decided to unleash that power upon Darren’s troops.
“DVend Quim?” asked the messenger with an accent.
“Yes.”
“Come with me.”
A stupid request. “You should already know that’s not going to happen. Don’t waste any more of our time. I will meet with Rizan away from our armies. Call him out here.”
“You should know that’s not going to happen. Rizan will not stand where your archers can reach him. He will meet you inside the city. Come with me.”
“I’m not going anywhere by myself.”
“Bring guards if you will feel safe. Rizan doesn’t care. He wishes to speak to you about peace.”
Unfortunately, Rizan had the upper hand. He could wait within the city for as long as he needed. Darren didn’t have time to wait. He needed to get his eldest son back.
“Fine, but the outskirts of the city are as far as we go. My army will be right behind me.”
“Your army must stay back if they do not wish to be seen as a threat.”
Darren had expected that reply. It was fine. He looked over his shoulder to decide who to bring.
“I will come with you, Father,” Leo said.
Darren shook his head. “Rizan could be planning a surprise attack.”
“Then I should be there.”
If it were a different man with Leo’s skills, then Darren wouldn’t hesitate to bring him. But this was his youngest son.
“I’m taking Lane instead.”
Rygen came forward. “Darren, may I have a word?”
It was strange for the young girl to intervene, which made Darren believe she really had something important to say. He walked back to meet with her, Leo at his side.
“What is it?” Darren asked Rygen.
“You should take a summoner with you in case they try to use creatures to ambush you. I’m excellent with rifts. I could close them before a creature comes out. You should take me with you, especially if you’re leaving Erisena with Jyrica.”
“I’m leaving Leo behind because of the danger, so I’m certainly not going to take you either. But you do have a good point about needing a summoner. Erisena!” he called.
She rushed over. “Yes?”
“You and Rygen will switch places. Rygen, you stay near Jyrica. If she tries to open a rift, close it and ensure our troops are given the order to kill her. Tell them now.”
Rygen seemed a bit stunned as she stared with open eyes, but then she turned and ran down the line until she stopped near Jyrica’s cage.
“What’s the plan?” Erisena asked.
“I’m taking you and Lane. If we sense an attack, we run.”
“I’m with you,” Lane said as Erisena nodded.
Leo threw his arms around Darren. “Please be safe.”
“In case something happens, don’t come in after us without the army.”
“We will march in together if there’s an attack,” Leo said.
Darren looked at his group of listening officers. He could see from the understanding in their eyes that they knew what needed to happen if they sensed an attack. They had all fought many battles together, small and large. Darren trusted they would know what to do.
Darren followed the messenger with Lane and Erisena. It was a long and silent walk to the city. The outskirts of Jatn had always been devoid of life, unsold houses marking the city limit.
The larger buildings were to the north, and none of them seemed to be damaged by fire. Darren couldn’t see the extent of the damage to the southern side of the city. But he knew at least a few of the poorer homes had burned down, given Rygen’s account of the barbarian invasion. At least in front of him, however, everything seemed to be just as it was when Darren was forced out of the city more than three years ago.
As much as he feared for Andar, he also worried that his sister might not be alive. She had been in the city during the invasion, according to Rygen. There was no telling what had happened to her, but usually beautiful women like her did not fare well.
“We will go no farther,” Darren stated as soon as they were within the city. “Bring Rizan here. Tell him Jyrica will be killed if anything happens to us.”
The messenger said something in their barbarian language as he walked off.
They waited in tense silence for some time. They stood on the main road coming into the city from the east. This was not usually a busy road, but Darren thought it strange that he saw not a single man or woman out and about.
The street was straight, allowing Darren to see far within the city. He watched a group of barbarians approach. Five of them, too small a group to be much of a threat to the three here, but Darren would be a fool to let his guard down.
Four stopped just short as one man continued toward Darren. “DVend Quim?” he asked. There was no hint of an accent of any kind.
“Yes. Are you Rizan?”
“I am. I’m glad we could finally meet. I’m told Jyrica found you safely, and you have her as your prisoner now?”
“That’s correct.”
“Good.”
Rizan had black hair without a strand of gray. He was probably about ten years older than Darren, somewhere in his forties. He had a dark mustache and distinct eyebrows of the same hue. He was not a particularly large man, though defined muscles lined his shoulders and arms. Darren noticed a sword on his belt but knew that wasn’t his most dangerous weapon. Jyrica had told them how Rizan and his twin brother had been the most powerful mages when they were young. They each possessed skill with Esitry and Artistry, like KRenn. They were formidable enemies.
“Where’s my sister?” Darren asked.
Rizan looked confused for a moment. Then he seemed to realize something. “She was here in Jatn when we came?”
“Yes.” Darren couldn’t tell if the man was playing innocent or really had no idea.
Darren had figured that Yune would be in trouble, given her beauty, if she had kept her identity hidden. He would rather her true name be known and have her used against him, because at least that way she should be safe, and Darren would find a way to get her back.
“Forgive me, but I haven’t heard much about your sister before or after we came here. What is her name?”
“Yune Quim, but she might go by Miqu Yenu.”
“I will have my men look for her. She will remain safe so long as we remain friends.” Rizan lifted an eyebrow.
“I will always avoid combat when possible. But if you show any signs of aggression, we won’t hesitate to take back the city through force.”
Rizan chuckled for a moment before stopping himself. “I don’t mean to insult you, DVend, but it is amusing that you think you can threaten us.”
“It is not a threat. We have come here peacefully, but we will meet aggression with aggression.”
“If you’ve come here peacefully, then what do you want out of the city?”
Darren was hesitant to tell Rizan that they just needed to access the rift. Could the barbarian already know that Andar was in the other realm? There was no telling how much Rizan and his brother in the dark realm could have communicated in the time since Andar went through the rift. Perhaps Rizan was just testing Darren with this question.
Darren looked into his eyes. The barbarian seemed to be quite comfortable in the situation, while Darren was not. He hated the feeling that he needed something from a man he knew very little about. He hated wondering whether he could trust someone with a more powerful army. And Darren especially hated that the rift, in Jatn’s Tisary, was all the way on the other side of the city.
The scouts Darren had sent to Jatn had returned with little information about the barbarians. It was too difficult for them to tell how many enemies Darren’s army might need to face. It wasn’t as if the barbarians were standing outside in uniform where they could be counted. They had merged with the civilians of Jatn and now lived within the city.
“DVend,” Rizan said with irritation. “I asked you what you want with the city. If you have come here peacefully, then there is no need for secrets.”
“I’m not going to say anything more until I speak with my sister.”
Rizan became visibly frustrated as his face pinched. “We have no idea where she is. She could be gone, dead, or disguised with another identity.”
“Then we will wait until one of those has been determined. I’m only going to speak with my sister, then we can talk about peace.”
Darren could only trust Yune. She would tell him what had happened since Rizan’s army had come to Jatn. And if Rizan really came here to retrieve his brother through the rift and expose him to the source of Artistry, then Yune might’ve heard something about it. Darren could trust nothing that Rizan told him, so there was no point in communicating with him…unless Yune couldn’t be found.
Rizan clearly knew this. He looked disappointed as he stared silently at Darren.
“I have a strong feeling Yune is not going to turn up,” said the barbarian leader.
Darren reached for his weapon. Rizan put out his hand.
“But, we might be able to locate her after you’ve spoken with me.”
Darren released his grip on the hilt of his sword. “You can start by telling me what you’ve done to the citizens here.”
“I’m sure Jyrica has told you already. We have only hurt those who have attacked us. In fact, if you spoke to one of the citizens, you would find that the city has been better since we arrived.”
“Fine, let me hear that from the bookbinding guild master, Gartel. After I speak with him, we can start to trust each other.”
Gartel was a man of honor. He might’ve hated Darren at one point, but he had grown to appreciate the efforts of DVend when he found out who he really was. Darren had heard from Leo that Gartel hated the king’s army after they came and drove out Darren and the rebels. Gartel lost all his savings, stolen by the king’s men. He sought justice, at great risk to himself. If he was brought here, Darren had little doubt that the man would tell him the truth about everything the barbarians had done.
“The bookbinding guild master, yes I know of him. I will have someone fetch him right now.”
Darren was a little surprised at Rizan’s cooperation.
“Then I will wait back with my army. Send him out to meet us.”
“He will be here in just a few moments, DVend,” Rizan said as Darren started to turn. “You wouldn’t want to waste any more time. Your eldest son needs you.”
Darren stepped up close and glared down at the smaller man. “How do you know about Andar?”
“Because my brother not only saw him in the dark realm but spoke with him at great length.”
“How could your brother tell you such a thing between realms now that the great rift is destroyed?” Darren asked.
“Because he is no longer in the dark realm,” Rizan said with a smile.
“And Andar?” Darren asked.
“We don’t know. He ran when he should’ve trusted my brother, like you should trust me. Now he is still stuck in the dark realm, waiting for his brother to rescue him.”
