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Winged Warrior [Forgotten Legacy Book 7] [MultiFormat]
eBook by Richard Tuttle

  Regular     Club
You Pay:  $5.99     $5.09

eBook Category: Fantasy/Young Adult
eBook Description: In ancient days, the mightiest of dragons were fearless in battle against the foes of Kaltara. Those special dragons were called Winged Warriors, and they were revered by the elves. In Winged Warrior, the Torak meets a Winged Warrior and learns that she is to become his battle steed. The Time of Cleansing fast approaches as the Motangans plant a spy deep within the ruling circle of the Sakovans. The mage-spy Aakuta is discovered on the Island of Darkness and condemned to death, while rebellious Khadoran lords conspire to overthrow Emperor Marak. The elven nation is beset by plotting from antiwar factions, while the Jiadin of Fakara threaten to abandon their defensive positions. The world teeters on the brink of new war, a war in which there will be no surrenders, no prisoners, and no negotiations, only total annihilation. Life itself hangs in the balance as Vand's minions prepare to launch the final invasion and sow seeds of deceit and destruction in the camps of the defenders.

eBook Publisher: KBS Publishing/KBS Publishing, Published: 2004, 2004
Fictionwise Release Date: April 2007


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Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [1.6 MB], Palm Doc (PDB) [381 KB], Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [401 KB], Microsoft Reader (LIT) [799 KB] - PocketPC 1.0+ Compatible, Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [336 KB], hiebook (KML) [1.4 MB], Sony Reader (LRF) [886 KB], iSilo (PDB) [375 KB], Mobipocket (PRC) [907 KB], Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [75 KB], OEBFF Format (IMP) [591 KB]
Words: 125564
Reading time: 358-502 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Adobe Acrobat (PDF) Format:  Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED
ISBN: 0971089772


"...masterful saga of good against evil. Richard S. Tuttle superbly conveys military strategies and religious faith in his fantasy book Winged Warrior: Book 7 of Forgotten Legacy. Although these are not unusual topics in the Forgotten Legacy series, this book is second to the last in the series, and much is at stake for the final conclusion to this masterful saga of good against evil. Strategy and faith can lead to victory. So Mr. Tuttle fills Winged Warrior with both, for good and evil sides. So whose strategies and faith will lead to victory? Only Richard S. Tuttle knows for sure as he shares the conflicts encountered by protagonists and antagonists, leading readers to the final resolution and outcome of the Forgotten Legacy. I recommend Winged Warrior: Book 7 of Forgotten Legacy to all Mr. Tuttle's fans and to anyone with an interest in fantasy tales."--Patricia Spork, eBook Reviews Weekly

"Winged Warrior is another excellent adventure-packed fantasy novel from acclaimed author Richard S. Tuttle. In this seventh volume of the Forgotten Legacy, Tuttle weaves an intrigue that boggles the mind. Loaded with tales of cunning and magic, Winged Warrior portrays the precarious state of the world as the evil Vand begins the invasion that has been promised for two thousand years."--Sheri Kendal, Books for the Beach


* * * *

Prologue

Thousands of years ago...

The High Priest of Kaltara opened his eyes. He peered through the fog of delirium at the faces gazing down on him. He watched the faces incomprehensibly as their mouths moved, but their voices were jumbled and distant, their eyes sad and worried. The priest closed his eyes once again as the rivers of sweat trickled over his burning body like tiny creeks flowing through a forest fire. He offered a silent prayer to Kaltara to ease the pain that was racing through his body, but the nearby voices intruded into his meditation.

"He is burning with fever," one voice came through clearly. "Nothing can be done for him. His end is near."

"Nonsense," retorted anther voice, "Kaltara is testing him. He is strong in his faith. He will survive. Mark my words."

A commotion ensued as another person entered the room. The priest forced his eyes open to see what was happening. His vision had cleared somewhat, and he recognized the king entering the room. The others present bowed before the royal ruler of Angragar. King Regis ignored the people in the room and walked directly to the bed. He knelt next to the bed and took the priest's clammy hand in his own.

"You are burning, Vand," the king said softly. "Let us pray together for your healing."

Vand's eyes locked on the monarch's face for a brief moment before he forcibly pulled his hand away. A pall of shock fell over the king's face at the reaction of the priest, but Vand did not care. He did not need the king to pray for him. He was the High Priest, after all. If Kaltara would listen to anyone, it would be Vand's words that would be heard.

"Get out of my chambers," Vand said as forcefully as he could. "All of you leave. I need no help to speak to Kaltara. Get out."

The king stared at the High Priest for several moments before rising and shaking his head sadly. He turned to the others in the room and waved them towards the door.

"We shall gather in the temple and offer our prayers there," declared King Regis. "The High Priest is delirious and needs his rest. All of you come with me."

Vand scowled as the king led the others out of the room. When they were finally gone, Vand shook his head with disgust, rivulets of perspiration spraying the bed covers.

"Delirious?" snapped Vand as he pushed the covers away and painfully swiveled his legs to the side of the bed. "I am the Voice of Kaltara! I do not need others to pray for me. It is through me that Kaltara's word is carried to the people."

Vand struggled to his feet and pulled a robe over his head to cover his body. He wasn't sure exactly where he was going, but he knew that he had to do something, or his high position would be taken by one of the upstarts under him. He was not about to cede power to anyone else. He was the High Priest of Kaltara.

Vand slipped out of his chambers and into the alley outside the building. Several passersby looked at him with curiosity, and Vand scowled at them. The citizens averted their gaze and quickened their steps away from the priest. Vand wavered on his feet as he walked along the alley. He stopped and leaned against the wall for support. His mind whirled in a fog as he tried to figure out what it was that he must do to get well. The greatest healers in the city had already visited him, and there was nothing that they could do. Maybe his only course of action was to ignore his pain and carry on with the duties of the High Priest.

"May I help you, High Priest?" a melodic voice interrupted his thoughts.

"I need no help," spat Vand as he stared at the young woman. "Be on your way."

The woman frowned as she gazed at the High Priest. She shook her head sadly and said, "Kaltara would wish me to help others in any way that I can, but I will not fight with the High Priest of Kaltara. Still, others will continue to offer their help if you continue to travel unaided. You appear to be deathly ill. If you do not wish to be bothered by others, let me walk with you. I shall accompany you to wherever you are going and nothing more. Is that acceptable?"

Vand's forehead creased severely as he digested the woman's words. What she said was true, and he did not wish to be bothered by every citizen that passed by. Slowly, he nodded his acceptance.

The woman took the priest's arm and started walking him towards the mouth of the alley. Several people looked curiously towards the couple, but no one came forward to help. When they reached the street, Vand hesitated, unsure of which direction to turn.

"Where are we going?" asked the woman. "Shall I guide you to a healer?"

"I have already seen the healers," scowled Vand.

The woman frowned heavily as she stared at the priest. Finally, she sighed and nodded her head.

"To the Asylum then?" she asked.

"The Asylum?" balked the priest. "Their potions and elixirs are nothing more than swamp water. There are no healing properties in such trash."

"I was thinking more of the Pit of Death," the woman said softly. "If the healers cannot cure what ails you, what choice is left?"

"The Pit of Death?" Vand echoed as his eyes grew large. "There is no such thing."

"Perhaps there isn't," shrugged the woman as she saw the priest's body begin to quiver, "but the walk will do you good."

Vand stared at the woman as if he were looking through her. For several long moments, he remained silent. Finally, he nodded his head.

"The walk will be good," he said nervously. "Just feeling the breeze upon me has already eased the pain. Lead me to the Asylum so that I may expose the nonsense surrounding the mythical Pit of Death."

The woman led the priest through the city streets of Angragar towards the north end of the city. When they reached the door to the elixir shop called The Asylum, Vand waved the woman away. She nodded without comment and left the priest. Vand stood staring through the doorway of the shop for several moments before he entered it.

The old woman who ran the shop looked up nervously as the High Priest entered. Her eyes immediately swept the room to see if anyone was present before greeting the priest.

"It's not often we get such distinguished customers," the woman said hesitantly as she worried that the priest was there to cause trouble. "How may I aid you?"

Vand ignored the woman as he picked up a potion and gazed at it. Abruptly, he put the potion back on the table and turned to storm out of the shop. That was when the woman saw the back of Vand's sweat-soaked robe.

"You need more than potions," the woman said softly as she realized that the priest was not there to demand her closure. "What you seek is down the stairs. Go before other customers enter the shop and see you."

Vand hesitated at the door. He turned and looked questioningly at the woman, but she ignored his gaze. She turned and walked to the back of the room and began moving potions around on the shelf. Vand's eyes wavered from the doorway leading to the street to the top of the stairs leading downward. A sudden shout from the street outside the shop jolted the priest out of his indecisiveness. He headed for the stairs and proceeded downward.

Vand descended the stairs into a large cavernous room. In the center of the room was a large pit of hot mud and several people were lounging in it. An old man immediately approached the newcomer.

"Remove your robe," instructed the old man. "There are hooks over there to hang it on."

"I am not here to dally in hot mud," scowled the priest. "I expected ... something more."

"Ah," the old man replied softly as he nodded his head. "There are dangers involved. Are you sure?"

"Am I sure?" retorted the priest. "No, I am not sure. I do not even believe in such nonsense, but others tell me that you claim to have the mythical Pit of Death down here."

"There is nothing mythical about it," countered the old man. "It is the last resort for those whose life is ending. It can save your life, but the cost is steep."

"Steep?" questioned the priest.

"You may die once you enter the Pit of Death," the old man said quietly. "Or you may be cured and allowed to live a healthy life once again. The price to enter is all of your worldly belongings."

"All of my belongings?" Vand balked a little too loudly.

The customers in the mud pit looked to see who was talking, and the old man guided Vand towards the rear of the room and away from the others.

"If you die," shrugged the old man, "you will have no need of your belongings. If you are healed, we will tear the paper up, and it will have cost you nothing. What good are belongings to a dead man?"

"It sounds like a way to make yourself wealthy at the expense of others," snarled the priest. "I should have you shut down and run out of the city."

"I suppose that you have the power to do so," shrugged the old man, "but then your life will be lost. Look at you. You are practically dead already. I am surprised that you even made it here without help. I will get the contract for you to sign. If you don't wish to live any longer, then leave and have us closed down."

The old man turned and left. Vand watched him leave, his mind filled with fury. He seethed as he rolled the man's words through his mind. No one dared to talk to the High Priest of Kaltara in the manner the old man had. He would make that man sorry for his impertinence. He would indeed have the shop closed. Yet, Vand's feet did not move towards the stairs. In a few moments, the old man returned with a contract. He handed it to the priest. Vand snarled as he grabbed the contract. His hands moved to tear the paper in two, but he did not have the strength to do so.

"I know the decision is a hard one," the old man said encouragingly, "but there really is no choice in the matter. Only the Pit of Death can save you now. I doubt you even have the strength to ascend the stairs. Sign the contract."

Vand stared at the contract, his mind refusing to comprehend the words written upon it. Finally he scrawled his name on the contract and shoved it into the old man's hands.

"What happens next?" asked the priest.

"I cannot say," smiled the old man as he led the priest around the corner of the cave and into a short corridor with a door at the end of it. "You enter through this door. That is all that I can tell you. Go quickly while you are still able to walk."

The old man opened the door and held it. Vand peered into the dark space beyond and saw only an extremely small room, barely large enough for a person to stand it.

"What foolishness is this?" scowled Vand. "You want me to stand in a closet?"

"You cannot comprehend it yet," assured the old man. "Enter it quickly."

Vand thought about grabbing the old man and squeezing the life out of him, but he knew that he was too weak to even attempt it. Obediently, the priest walked into the closet, and the old man immediately shut the door.

Vand stood in the darkness waiting for something to happen, but nothing happened. His rage grew by the second as he realized that he had just been tricked out of his belongings. Suddenly, fear coursed though the priest's body as he realized that the contract was only valid if he died. Fearful of the thought that the old man had locked him in the closet to die, Vand's hand shot out to open the door. The door opened easily, and Vand sighed with relief. The relief lasted only a second.

As the door opened wider, brilliant light shot into the small closet, and burning heat hit the priest like a shockwave. Vand's brow creased as he stared into a vast wasteland, bright sunlight sparkling off the rolling hills of sand. Vand shook his head to clear the mirage from his vision, but the image did not go away. Slowly, Vand ventured through the door and into the wasteland. His eyes scanned the vastness around him. Tall mountains rose in the distance, and lava flowed down the slopes. Smoke curled upward from the mountainous peaks and a harsh wind whipped across the desert floor. Grains of sand slammed into the priest with stinging regularity, and Vand turned to retreat into the closet, but the doorway was gone. He stood shaking his head in confusion as his eyes gazed over the vast desert behind him.

"I must be delirious," Vand said to himself.

Vand turned in a circle, bringing up his arms to protect his face from the stinging sand. He saw no exit from the wasteland.

"Am I dead?" Vand asked himself. "Is this what comes after life?"

"Is this what you want to come after death?" boomed a loud voice.

Vand gasped as he turned swiftly to find the source of the voice. His mind swam as he moved, and the priest fell to the desert floor.

"Who are you?" Vand shouted loudly. "Show yourself."

One of the lava-spitting volcanoes suddenly moved. Vand rubbed his eyes and shook his head in disbelief. He watched with morbid curiosity as a body formed out of the volcano. A grotesque creature towered over the distant mountains and laughed deeply. The creature was monstrous and black. Horns sprouted for its head, and its eyes were like molten lava. The ground thundered as the beast walked towards Vand, but the priest could not take his eyes off of the demon. He saw sharp claws protruding from the creature's hands and feet. When the creature laughed, Vand saw a snout full of huge sharp teeth. The priest quivered in fear.

"You are Dobuk," the priest said accusingly.

"And you are my next meal," laughed the beast, "but not before you have suffered greatly."

Vand rolled over and got to his knees. He bowed his head, closed his eyes, and began praying to Kaltara for help. Vand's concentration was broken when the demon's claws snared the priest and lifted him towards its mouth. Vand screamed as he gazed into the cavernous snout that would become his grave.

"I know you," the beast said suddenly. "You are Kaltara's puppet. What is your name?"

"I am Vand, High Priest of Kaltara," the priest said proudly. "Have your way with my body. You have no power over me. Kaltara will save me."

"Save you?" laughed Dobuk as he tossed the priest's body to the floor of the desert. "The High Priest of Kaltara should know better. You have entered my domain willingly, Vand. No one can save you now except me."

The Great Demon waved a claw in the air, and Vand started screaming. The priest shrieked as his robe burst into flames, and his skin began to sear. Vand's hands flew inward and began ripping the burning robe from his body. He flung the burning scraps to the desert floor, but his actions offered no relief. The priest's skin burst into flames, and Vand frantically rolled around trying to extinguish the flames. All he succeeded in doing was causing the sand to stick to his burning skin.

"Have mercy!" cried Vand. "Kill me, but end this torment."

"Have mercy?" smirked the Great Demon. "Were you talking to me? My name is Dobuk. Let me hear you say it."

Vand bit his lip hard in an effort to stop screaming. It did not work, but the action did succeed in slicing the lip open. The priest spit a mouthful of blood into the sand and screamed hysterically.

"Have mercy, Dobuk," pleaded the priest. "I cannot stand the pain."

The demon's snout split in a broad grin. He waved his claw and the fires immediately extinguished, the soaring wind died, and the sand settled to the floor of the desert.

"You have spirit, priest," declared Dobuk. "I may strike a bargain with you this day."

Vand gazed at his charred limbs, afraid to touch the skin in case in peeled off and fell into the sand.

"What bargain?" Vand asked nervously. "I have signed all of my belongings away to gain entry here. I have nothing left to offer. Still, I beg for your mercy."

"You have your life to offer," grinned the demon.

"My life is over," sighed the priest. "If you wish me dead, I will not fight you. Take my life and be done with it."

"That would be your death," countered Dobuk. "That would mean nothing to me, but your life can be valuable. Renounce Kaltara and become my priest."

"Impossible," Vand shook his head vigorously. "Kaltara would strike me dead instantly."

"An instant death is what you desire," smirked the demon, "but you have no fear in that regard. Kaltara will not touch you."

"What do you mean?" asked Vand. "Why would Kaltara not punish me for abandoning him?"

"You have already abandoned him," chuckled the demon. "The moment you walked through that door, you gave up your faith in Kaltara. You failed his test, Priest. Now your life is mine to do with as I please."

A look of shock came over Vand's face, but he realized the truth of the demon's statement. Kaltara had been testing him, and Vand had failed. He rebuked the king and the other priests who had gathered to help. He had placed himself above the people as the only one to know Kaltara. He had let vanity and pride defeat his holiness.

"I am an old man," Vand said softly. "I do not have much life left in me. What would you have me do?"

"I will determine the number of your days," retorted Dobuk. "If I were gracious enough to allow you to return to Angragar, your days would be limited, but I have other plans for you. How would you like to live for thousands of years?"

"Thousands of years?" echoed the priest. "That is impossible."

"Nothing is impossible," the demon grinned mischievously. "Be my priest, and you will rule the world for centuries. Multitudes will bow down before you and worship your every word. Your vanity will not be a slight to me as it is to Kaltara. Be vain. Be powerful. Take your revenge against those other inferior mortals."

Vand's eyes grew large as he tried to envision the image that the demon was painting.

"Oh," sighed Dobuk, "what is the use? You are a foolish servant of Kaltara. You probably don't have the character to rule the world. You don't have the ability to push your feelings aside and crush your enemies beneath your boots. You are a weakling."

"No!" protested the priest. "I have no feelings towards others. I am superior to all of them. I always have been, but they will fight me. How can I overcome the multitudes that will rise up against me?"

"My priest will have powers befitting his station," smirked Dobuk. "Mortals are weaklings. When you speak in my name, they will either bow or flee, but you will not allow them to flee. You will strike them down to the last child. Can you handle that, Priest?"

Vand's eyes glistened as he imagined the power that he would wield. He pictured King Regis kneeling before him, as he demanded the surrender of Angragar. His face broke into a smile.

"I think you will be surprised with what I can accomplish," declared Vand. "Kaltara will rue the day that he tested me. You have a bargain, Dobuk. I will be your priest."

The Great Demon's grin broke as his mouth opened wide revealing the rows of sharp teeth. Flames shot from the demon's eyes as he nodded his head in satisfaction. He waved a claw in the air, and Vand's body instantly healed. The blisters disappeared, and the charred skin returned to a healthy tone.

Vand actually felt the sickness flee from his body. He inhaled deeply as he felt his strength returning. His eyes fell to the desert floor, and he saw rich garments before him. He picked them up and dressed. When he was done, Dobuk gently picked Vand up, and the priest stood on the demon's open palm while Dobuk explained what he was to do. After an indeterminable amount of time, Dobuk was satisfied that his new priest would know what to do. He placed Vand back on the ground and winked conspiratorially. Vand bowed low before his new master. Dobuk waved a claw, and a door appeared in the sands of the desert.

"You must visit regularly," warned Dobuk. "I will not stand for disobedience. I am not Kaltara, and my vengeance will be slow and deliberate. Do you understand?"

"Perfectly," nodded Vand.

Dobuk disappeared in a puff of smoke. Vand turned and walked through the door to the small closet. He closed the door and stood in the darkness for a moment. Slowly, he opened the door and stepped out into the cave below the Asylum. The old man gasped audibly when he saw the priest. Vand grinned and motioned the old man towards him.

"You have something that belongs to me," Vand declared. "Give it to me."

The old man's eyes grew large as he fumbled inside his tunic for the contract.

"How have you survived?" asked the old man. "The others either never returned or came back crazy."

"The others were not High Priests," grinned Vand as he tore the contract up and stuffed the pieces into his pouch. "I left a present for you inside the closet. It is the least I could do for one who has shown me the way to greatness."

A pall of confusion came over the old man's face, but his curiosity was strong. He immediately moved beyond the priest and peered through the open door to the closet. He saw nothing. Unexpectedly, Vand pushed the old man into the closet and slammed the door shut. He could barely hear the old man's cries of terror as he passed through the cave to the stairs leading up to the shop.

* * * *

Our story so far ...

Young Lord of Khadora is the story of a young soldier who is unhappy with the culture of his country. His superb military skills, and the loyalty of his troops, enable Marak to take the reins of a minor Situ estate when the opportunity arises. When the neighboring lords conspire against Lord Marak, he uses cunning, courage, and unconventional warfare to subdue them. When his own protector, Lord Ridak of the Situ Clan, turns against Lord Marak, the young lord strikes a blow for a new culture. He creates his own clan, the Torak clan, and defies the norms by freeing his slaves. At the end of volume one, Lord Marak secretly controls five small clans on the frontier of Khadora.

Star of Sakova introduces Lyra, a young mage student who is thrust into an unfamiliar world by an attack on her father's magic academy. Running for her life, Lyra enters the dreaded Sakova, expecting death at every turn. Instead, she finds that the god Kaltara has chosen her to lead the Sakovan people. Young Lyra unravels the mystery of the attack on the magic academy and the kidnapping of her father, Master Malafar. During the struggle to save the Sakovan people from extinction, Lord Marak visits and discovers long lost ties between the Sakovans and the people of his Chula father. By the end of volume two of the Forgotten Legacy, Lyra displays magic talents that only Kaltara could have given her. She faces off against the false Katana Alazar and defeats him in a public display that eliminates the threat of war.

Web of Deceit features a young villager from a remote area of Fakara. The story opens with the destruction of Rejji's village and a chance meeting with Mistake, a young elf-like woman. Rejji and Mistake are captured by slavers and sold to a Khadoran estate where they befriend a young Fakaran with the rare ability to speak with animals. Lord Marak frees the trio from slavery as he seeks to learn more about the strange country of Fakara. When the trio returns to Rejji's homeland, they become embroiled in a power struggle between the Jiadin tribe and the rest of the tribesmen, known as the Free Tribes. On a trip to the Sage of the Mountain, Rejji discovers that he is the long-awaited Astor of prophecy. He finds a painting in the ancient lost city of Angragar that depicts Lord Marak, Lyra, and himself. By the end of volume three, Rejji succeeds in uniting the Free Tribes under his banner and defeating the Jiadin. He immediately makes plans to rebuild his native country.

Aakuta: the Dark Mage introduces a new mysterious figure. A powerful dark mage suddenly appears in a country devoid of male mages. The mage appears to have no allegiances in the growing struggle between Lord Marak and the forces of evil, but he has the habit of always showing up when conflict erupts. Meanwhile, Lord Marak tries to arouse Khadora into stopping an invasion by the Jiadin. Not only do the other lords refuse to help him, but they actively try to ruin him through attacks and assassinations attempts. The secret alliances long held by Lord Marak are eventually discovered as Marak first ascends to the Lords' Council and eventually becomes Emperor of Khadora. At the conclusion of volume four, Emperor Marak is consolidating Khadora under his banner. His plan is to rally all of the armies to help him combat the coming invasion of evil.

In Island of Darkness, a false Katana again rules Omunga. War is declared on the Sakovans as Vand's people poison the food supply of Omunga. Emperor Marak guides Lyra as she attempts to win the war without inflicting too many casualties. She knows of the coming invasion and is forced to preserve as many of her enemy as possible. Meanwhile, Mistake and MistyTrail discover that they are sisters. They set out on a sea voyage and are shipwrecked off the Island of Darkness. As they search for a way to get home, the sisters discover elves, which were long thought to be extinct. In their bid for freedom, the sisters must rescue a pair of elves and get them off the island. During the rescues, the women discover many dark secrets of the evil enemy. At the end of volume five, Emperor Marak has ordered his people to deliver Mistake and her new friends to Khadoratung where he hopes to learn more about Vand and the lost nation of elves.

In Elvangar, Eltor and Caldal, the young male elves rescued by Mistake and MistyTrail, learn the truth about the ancient relations between the humans and the elves. They witness the awakening of the ancient city of Angragar before escorting Mistake and MistyTrail to the hidden land of Elvangar. Mistake and MistyTrail find that Elvangar is not the utopia that they expected. The land is ruled by a moody queen who turns out to be their mother. Arrested for attempting to assassinate the queen, Mistake and MistyTrail escape from Elvangar and return to the Island of Darkness to rescue their father, Avalar, King of the Elves. The young females elves discover that they are the lost princesses, Alahara and Alastasia, and accompany Avalar back to Elvangar to reclaim his throne.

* * * *

Chapter 1

Raid on Duran

The first hint of dawn was appearing over the ocean as the sky began to lighten somewhat, but the morning fog obscured everything at ground level. Kenda peered out of the small window next to his bed as his eyes glistened with anticipation. The boy crept out of bed and quickly dressed as silently as he could. He eased the door open and slid through it, placing each foot carefully to minimize the noise. Slowly, he made his way to the kitchen and took his pack off the hook on the wall. He stuffed two round loaves of bread into his sack and slipped it on.

Returning to his room, he eased the door closed and then pulled his boots on. He was about to slip through the window, but he halted and got off the bed. He tiptoed to the chest at the foot of his bed. He opened the chest and extracted a length of rope, which he stuffed into his pack. He stood silently for a moment as if thinking about anything else he might need. Finally, he shook his head and shrugged. Kenda poked his head out of the window and gazed along the alley. There was no one in sight, so he climbed out the window and landed softly on the ground.

Kenda walked briskly along the alley. The fog hung so thick in places that anyone not familiar with the city of Duran would be foolish to attempt moving about, but Kenda was no stranger to the city. He had lived in Duran all of his life. The boy reached the street and looked both ways before emerging from the alley. He heard the clomping of a horse somewhere off to his right, but he could not see anyone. He raced across the street and continued along the alley for a short distance.

When he was well into the alley, he slowed down to avoid accidentally bumping into the supplies that Jackle's father had stacked in the alleyway. He moved cautiously until the building materials came into view. Just beyond the stack of lumber and the pile of stones, Kenda moved close to the building and pulled himself up to peer through the window of his friend.

"Let's go, Jackle," Kenda urged softly. "It's perfect weather out this morning. The fog is thicker than usual. Let's go."

"You sure this is a good idea?" Jackle asked as he sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "Your Pa will be mad when he finds out that you are gone."

"I doubt it," countered Kenda. "Our fathers did the same thing when they were boys. I heard them laughing about it, but they never made it all the way. We are going to make it."

"If anyone can," grinned Jackle as he threw off the cover and quickly dressed, "we can."

"That is the truth," replied Kenda, "but if you are having second thoughts, we can call this off. This was your idea, after all."

"You're just trying to get out of it," taunted Jackle. "You said that you would come with me, and you are coming. We should take something to eat and drink."

"I have two loaves of bread," offered Kenda. "We can fill our flasks at the well before we leave the city. Can you think of anything else we might need?"

"We don't need anything else," shrugged Jackle as he laced his boots and scrambled out the window.

The two boys stood in the alleyway silently for a moment.

"I am so excited," Jackle finally said. "I have wanted to do this for a long time, but I feel bad about getting you in trouble. Maybe I should go alone."

"I am not letting you go alone," declared Kenda. "I think it would be wise to wait a year or two until we have developed more climbing skills, but I know that you can't wait that long. I am going with you."

"Our climbing skills are fantastic," retorted Jackle. "I can out climb my older brother already. Why should we wait?"

"That is what I expected you to say," chuckled Kenda. "Let's get moving while the fog is still thick. I want to be well up the Wall of Mermidion before it burns off."

"The Wall of Mermidion," Jackle replied with reverence in his voice. "The unscalable cliffs of Duran."

"Not exactly unscalable," countered Kenda. "Some people have done it before."

"True," nodded Jackle, "but they are all dead now. Besides the cliffs were never conquered by anyone our age. Our names will be famous when we return. How can anyone be angry with us then?"

"Let's worry about our fame when we return," suggested Kenda. "Right now we need to get our water and get out of the city before someone sees us and tells our fathers."

"Right," Jackle nodded vigorously. "Let's go."

The two boys moved silently along the alley until they came to the street. Kenda peered out of the alley and saw no one. He led the way into the street as the boys moved swiftly towards the well. The dense fog muted the sounds of the city, but they could hear the fisherman making their way towards the coast. When they heard someone coming towards them, they darted into an alley until the person passed by. The fog was thick enough that they never did see the early morning citizen. When the sound receded, the boys continued their journey towards the well.

They reached the well without running into anyone. The boys quickly filled their flasks and moved away from the well in case some early morning risers came to fetch water.

"I bet the ships don't leave port until this fog thins a bit," stated Jackle. "It is much thicker than normal. I can hardly see more than a pace in front of me."

"It is early yet," replied Kenda. "As soon as the sun rises, it will burn off quick enough."

The boys moved as quickly as possible through the streets of Duran. Several more times they had to hide while a citizen passed by, but they never actually saw anyone. Only the sounds alerted them to the presence of others. Within half an hour, the boys had left the city and were crossing the farms towards the Wall of Mermidion that separated Duran from the rest of the Sakova.

Duran was unique in that it was the only Sakovan city that was inaccessible by land from any other part of the country. It occupied a small shelf of land between the Wall of Mermidion and the sea. The Wall of Mermidion itself was a towering range of cliffs that ran along the coast of the Sakova for hundreds of leagues. Duran was an isolated city, but most of the residents preferred it that way. They were a close-knit group that had little dealings with outsiders, even when they were part of Omunga. During the war, the city had been the first Omungan city to swear allegiance to the Sakova in exchange for the promise of food to feed the starving citizenry. Ever since, the Sakovans had sent shiploads of food to feed the people of Duran until they were once again self-sufficient.

The boys reached the foot of the Wall of Mermidion and gazed upward. They could not see far through the fog.

"We should have brought rope," frowned Jackle.

"Got it," beamed Kenda. "Why don't you go first? I will follow you up."

"Makes sense to me," grinned Jackle. "I am the better climber. Just watch where I place my hands and feet and then follow me up."

Kenda smiled and nodded as Jackle began climbing. He wasn't entirely sure that he agreed with Jackle's assessment of their skills, but this was Jackle's expedition, and Kenda had no intention of spoiling it for his friend. He watched as Jackle slowly faded upward into the fog and then started up the cliff himself.

The cliffs were totally vertical, and the rock face was fairly smooth. There were few places to gain a firm purchase, so the technique the boys used the most was to find a narrow crevice and wedge his body into it. They would then move upward by keeping a firm pressure on each side of the crevice. It was an exhausting way to climb the cliffs, but both boys were excited to be doing it. They climbed for over an hour before Jackle found a spot where they could sit and rest.

"This is harder than I thought," exhaled Jackle. "How far up do you think we are? I can't see anything below us or above us. The fog is still too thick."

"We have barely begun," replied Kenda. "We will be lucky to reach the top before nightfall. We can still turn back if you want."

"Don't mention that again," scowled Jackle. "I am not stopping before I reach the top. I don't care if it takes two days. I will never get this chance again."

"Alright," shrugged Kenda, "but I want you to know that I will never think less of you if you decide to turn back. I guess what I mean is that it will be alright if we do."

"Are you scared?" retorted Jackle. "Is that why you keep bringing it up?"

"I am scared a bit," confessed Kenda, "but not so much of falling. I am afraid of doing something stupid, like refusing to quit when we are beaten by this cliff. There is no shame in understanding your limits and acting accordingly. I fear that you might not understand that."

"I don't understand it because I refuse to accept failure," declared Jackle. "This cliff is not going to defeat me. You can go back down when you get scared, but I am going all the way to the top."

Kenda sighed and stared off into the fog. He truly was not afraid of climbing the cliffs, but he was worried about his friend. He decided not to bring the subject up again.

"I thought this fog would be burning off by now," Kenda changed the subject of the conversation. "We haven't had such a fog that I can ever remember. I wonder if the fishermen will even take their boats out today?"

"I hope it clears soon," replied Jackle. "The view of the city from up here must be fantastic. Let's start climbing again. When the fog does lift, we will have an even better view."

Kenda nodded as Jackle rose and squeezed into the crevice. The boys continued upward for another two hours before stopping again. Kenda took a loaf of bread out of his pack and broke off a couple of pieces. He gave one piece to Jackle.

"It still hasn't lifted," frowned Jackle as he munched on his bread. "Fog never lasts so late in the morning. Look towards the ocean. You can practically see the outline of the sun trying to break through the fog."

"It is strange," Kenda admitted. "I wonder what our families are thinking right now? Surely, we have been missed by now. Will they worry that we might be lost in the fog?"

"I figured that they would see us climbing the Wall of Mermidion," confessed Jackle. "I suppose they will be worried if they can't find us. I hope this fog lifts soon so that someone knows where we have gone."

Suddenly, a tremendous force of wind blew up the face of the cliffs. Both boys instinctively leaned backwards to press their bodies against the wall of the cliff. Within seconds the fog was blown upward and the sun shone brightly in their faces.

"What was that?" Jackle asked with alarm. "I thought we were going to be blown off the cliffs."

"Look out towards the harbor," Kenda said excitedly. "Those ships are huge."

The boys gazed at the sea just beyond the harbor wall. Half a dozen monstrous ships were heading towards the city.

"What are they?" asked Jackle. "I have never seen ships so large. Look how small our ships look in comparison."

"Those are warships," Kenda said haltingly. "I don't like the looks of this."

Suddenly, huge balls of fire sprang from the decks of the monstrous ships. The fiery projectiles slammed into the buildings of Duran, and fires sprang up throughout the city. The boys watched the citizens of Duran scurrying around in confusion. People ran in every direction. Distant shouts of alarm drifted lightly on the air at the citizens of Duran were roused from their homes. The Imperial Guards gathered in front of the Mayor's building and formed ranks, but there was no one for them to fight. As the huge fireballs continued to soar into the city, the invading ships began lowering smaller ships to ferry the soldiers ashore.

"Even their small ships dwarf most of our fishing vessels," Jackle said softly. "I can't imagine how many soldiers those ships must hold."

"Probably more men than the number of citizens in Duran," frowned Kenda. "Our people will not stand a chance."

"We have to start down," Jackle declared as he moved to the edge of the cliff.

"Don't be a fool," snapped Kenda as he reached out and grabbed his friend. "We have been climbing for hours. By the time we reach the bottom, the battle will be over."

Jackle slowly nodded and eased his back against the cliff. "I don't like being up here," he stated. "We should be down there helping the defenders."

"We would be no help to anyone down there," sighed Kenda. "I am sure that the mayor will surrender promptly. The citizens cannot hope to defend Duran against such a force. Look at the number of small boats that are streaming towards the shore."

The fires in the city multiplied as more fiery projectiles flew from the decks of the large ships. The boys watched the destruction, unable to distinguish individuals from their height, but with a good enough view to read the hopelessness of the citizens. A figure stood before the Imperial Guards and led them down to the waterfront, a large white flag clearly visible to the boys.

"You were right," conceded Jackle. "The mayor is surrendering. This has to be the quickest battle ever. I thought the Imperial Guards would at least kill some of the invaders before surrendering. Their first ships are just reaching the shore now."

"The mayor is wise," countered Kenda. "We are a farming and fishing city. Even our Imperial Guards are not true warriors. We have no business being involved in battle. Surrender is the appropriate course of action. The mayor understands our limits and sees no shame in admitting defeat. He is saving the lives of the citizens."

The first of the invaders' boats ran up on the beach, and soldiers in red uniforms jumped out. Boat after boat landed unopposed and soon hundreds of foreign soldiers were marching through the city. One large group of foreigners marched towards the mayor and the Imperial Guards. The Imperial Guards were easily outnumbered, yet hundreds of more boats were still streaming towards the shore.

"The Imperial Guards are throwing down their swords," scowled Jackle. "Why have an army if they just give up so easily?"

"Why should they throw their lives away?" retorted Kenda. "There are thousands of invaders. Look, they are still coming ashore. There is no end to them."

The boys watched the drama unfolding before their eyes. The Imperial Guards tossed their swords and knives into a large pile on the ground as the foreign invaders surrounded them. As soon as the last of the weapons were discarded, the foreign soldiers attacked the Imperial Guards.

"Treachery!" shouted Jackle. "They are killing unarmed men. What a despicable act! The Imperial Guards should have fought them."

Kenda's jaw dropped in disbelief as he stared in horror at the massacre below. Within seconds, the entire group of Imperial Guards was dead. The mayor, still holding his white flag was the last to die. Kenda shook his head and tears welled up in his eyes. His mouth opened to speak, but no words came out.

Jackle excitedly grabbed Kenda's arm and pointed to a spot deeper into the city. His fingers dug into his friend's arm as he cried. Kenda pried his gaze away from the Imperial Guards and looked to where Jackle was pointing. The red-clad soldiers where killing everyone they came across, man, woman, and child.

"No!" shouted Kenda, tears flowing freely down his cheeks. "Why?"

"It's a massacre," sobbed Jackle. "They are killing everyone."

Kenda wanted to turn his eyes away from the destruction, but he could not. He watched as red soldiers invaded every part of the city. They instantly killed every person they came across. Some of the citizens tried to resist. Small groups of men raced down alleyways with old swords, shovels, and knives. They carried anything that could be used to kill a fellow human being, but it did not even slow down the invaders. The red-clad soldiers were trained warriors prepared for battle. The citizens were no match for them.

When the streets of the city were empty of the living, the foreign soldiers began to enter the houses. Kenda did not have to guess what was happening inside the homes. He watched as some citizens tried to escape the slaughter by running out the back doors of the houses, but the foreign soldiers were waiting for them. After each house was searched for citizens, a foreigner tossed a torch inside. Soon the entire city was burning.

"I think that is my father," Jackle shouted hysterically as he pointed towards his house. "Run, Pa."

Kenda winced as he watched the foreign soldier strike the man down. He looked across the street and saw his own house burning. He closed his eyes and let the tears flow down his cheeks. When he opened his eyes again, he saw more boats landing on the beach. Men jumped out of the boats, but they did not wear the red uniforms of the others. The new arrivals wore dark hooded cloaks. A chill ran down Kenda's spine as he watched the hooded men enter the city.

"We have to hide," Kenda said softly.

"What?" blubbered Jackle. "What are you talking about?"

"Those are mages," replied Kenda. "Look along the beach. The hooded men are mages."

"As if they can cause more damage than the soldiers," snapped Jackle. "Who cares about the mages?"

"We do," Kenda replied, forcefully calming himself. "They did not need to bring mages ashore to kill the citizens. We need to hide."

"Why?" asked Jackle. "What do you know that I don't?"

"The only reason to bring the mages ashore is to find the citizens that the soldiers missed," explained Kenda as he moved to the nearest crevice and squeezed his body into it. "They do not plan to leave a single person alive. We have to hide before they find us."

"What does it matter to them if someone survives?" asked Jackle, who refused to leave the ledge.

"I am not sure," admitted Kenda, "but it does matter to them. Maybe they don't want anyone left alive to describe their attack? I do not know, but I am positive that we are in danger. Hide in a crevice."

"They can't get us up here," countered Jackle. "Just let those foreigners try to scale the Wall of Mermidion. They will never make it to the top."

"Neither will we," retorted Kenda. "I never thought we could make it all the way up, but I didn't want to spoil your fun. These crevices disappear near the top of the wall. We will have to go back down eventually, but not until the foreigners are gone."

"I am never going back down there," declared Jackle. "There is nothing left for me in Duran. I will not return."

"We will discuss this later," sighed Kenda. "Get yourself into a crevice before someone looks up here and sees you."

"I would rather that they saw me," protested Jackle. "Maybe some of them will die trying to capture me. They cannot climb the Wall of Mermidion, and we can."

"Jackle," pleaded Kenda. "Just hide."

Suddenly, a brilliant flash seared Kenda's eyes. He heard Jackle emit a ghastly scream that faded to nothing as his friend's body tumbled down to the base of the Wall of Mermidion. Kenda closed his eyes tightly and cried.

For hours, Kenda remained hidden in the crevice, listening to the distant sounds from below. First came the sounds of warfare, screams, shouts, the clashing of steel. An eerie silence followed after a while, broken only occasionally by the crash of a collapsing building. Kenda turned his head and peered out of the crevice. Tall columns of smoke billowed upward from the burning city. Kenda wondered if anything would be left of the city when he descended.

Eventually, new sounds drifted up to his perch on the Wall of Mermidion. Kenda eased his body downward and crawled out of the crevice, keenly aware of the need to keep his head low. He crawled to the edge of the cliff and stared downward. Duran was utterly destroyed. Wooden buildings had become heaps of ashes and smoldering debris. Where stone buildings had stood, piles of broken rock littered the ground. Thousands of men in red uniforms swarmed through the city, poking into the piles of rubble as they passed by.

Kenda's eyes were drawn to the city well. Around it stood over a hundred dark-hooded men. Kenda tried to make sense of the needless slaughter, but he could not comprehend it. He thought about the local farmers, and how they became obsessed with ridding their farms of moles. It was the only thought about complete annihilation that he could come up with, but he failed to see how the citizens of Duran could be considered a threat to anyone. It made no sense to the Sakovan boy.

As Kenda was watching the men around the well, he saw one of them point upward towards the Wall of Mermidion. A chill shivered through Kenda's body as he watched the large group of mages turn their eyes towards him. He dared not move, his eyes frozen on the well and the men around it. Eventually, the mages stopped looking in his direction, and Kenda sighed with relief. The respite from fear was brief.

One of the mages called to a group of red-clad soldiers and pointed to the cliffs. Kenda could see the soldier nod exaggeratedly before turning and shouting to some of the other soldiers. Soon six soldiers were running towards the base of the Wall of Mermidion. When the soldiers came close to the base of the cliff, Kenda was no longer able to see them. He backed slowly away from the edge and retreated into his crevice.

"I said that we couldn't reach the top," Kenda said aloud as if Jackle were still there to hear him, "but I hope that I was wrong. Those soldiers are coming up to check the crevices."

Kenda sat for a few moments trying to figure out what to do. He gazed up at the high sun and knew that the face of the cliffs would soon be in the shadows when the sun passed over the crest. Realizing that he had no other option, Kenda started climbing the nearest crevice. He tried to keep his body as deep into the crevice as possible and hoped that none of the mages would send a fiery projectile to whisk him off the wall.

He climbed swiftly until he came to the next small ledge. He hurriedly chose another crevice and darted into it without taking the time to look down at the foreigners. Soon the crevices grew very dark. Kenda looked up and could no longer see the sun.

Kenda froze when he heard a distant scream. He knew without looking that one of his pursuers had fallen off the wall. He listened intently to the length of the scream as if it would give him an idea of how far up the cliffs the soldiers had gotten, but it was a futile exercise. The scream just faded into the sounds of the wind.

Kenda continued up the Wall of Mermidion in a mindless exercise of endurance and stamina. As each crevice ended, the boy immediately sought the safety of the next dark crevice and continued upward. He minimized the amount of time that he was exposed to those below him. Eventually, he reached a point where there were no more crevices. He gritted his teeth and sighed heavily as he looked out over the ocean and saw the bright pink clouds heralding the sunset. Soon it would be completely dark, and the real climbing had just begun. Kenda gazed upward and studied the face of the cliff. It looked like a sheer vertical stone face. He shook his head and cried.

Suddenly, another scream came from below, but not as far away as the first one. Kenda did not need to count the length of the scream to realize that the soldiers were climbing faster than he was. He looked again at the face of the cliff and gritted his teeth in determination. The climb to the top of the Wall of Mermidion might well kill him, but Kenda knew that death surely awaited him if he did not move swiftly. He took the rope out of his pack and coiled it. He put one arm through the coil and draped the rope over his chest. With the sigh of a decision made, Kenda reached up and grabbed the first handhold that he could see. He pulled himself upward, moving his free hand over the surface of the dark rock in search of the next handhold.

* * * *

Chapter 2

Pain Killers

Aakuta tripped and fell to the ground near the rear of the temple on the Island of Darkness. He cursed under his breath as he heard a bone crack as his body hit the ground. The added pain of a new cracked rib was not even noticed by the dark mage. His body was continually wracked with pain every moment of the day, a result of the curse put upon him by Dobuk, the Fallen One.

Aakuta closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on peaceful and serene thoughts. He had found that if he concentrated hard enough, the pain dulled somewhat, although it was never bearable. He had almost succeeded in transporting his mind elsewhere when someone brutally kicked him in the head. Aakuta's hands instinctively rose to protect his face as he rolled over to gaze upon his torturer. Aakuta snarled when he recognized Xavo, a young mage in the service of Vand.

Xavo was an egotistical fool. Although he was handsome and had mastered a great deal of magic, the young mage lacked common sense and consistently overrated his own power. Aakuta hated him.

Xavo never passed up a chance to humiliate Aakuta, especially if there were others around to enjoy the demonstration. On this particular day, a dozen red-clad soldiers stood behind the young mage, laughing hard as the old mage's plight.

"The great Aakuta," sneered Xavo as his foot swung to deliver another blow to Aakuta's head. "You aren't so great any more, are you? Nobody goes against Vand and survives."

Aakuta's arm moved swiftly, blocking the kick aimed at his head. Xavo snarled and immediately tried once more to kick Aakuta's face.

"Stop it!" shouted a woman near a building on the other side of the street. "Stop it immediately," she added as she strode across the street.

"This is of no concern to you," snapped Xavo. "You no longer have any standing in the court of Vand."

"I may not have standing in the court," glared Lady Mystic as she halted between Xavo and the old mage sprawled on the ground, "but I am telling you to stop it right now."

"Or what?" sneered Xavo. "You can't even enter the temple to complain, besides, abusing one who has been stricken by Vand's curse is not prohibited. In fact, it is encouraged. Be gone."

"You are a fool, Xavo," scowled Lady Mystic. "I have no need to complain about your actions. I will just match my power against yours, right here, right now. Are you prepared to die?"

"My power is a match for yours," Xavo quickly shot back, but the nervous reactions of his body told a different story.

Lady Mystic smiled menacingly as she watched the younger mage's body tick spasmodically. She stepped close to the young mage and stared into his face.

"I have nothing to lose by continuing this confrontation," she declared softly. "Is your stubborn pride truly worth your life this day?"

Xavo was acutely aware of the soldiers behind him and knew that they were waiting anxiously for a confrontation. He would look foolish walking away from the fight, but he had no desire to match skills against the Emperor's daughter.

"You were thrown out of the temple for catering to this old fool," Xavo said loudly. "Perhaps the best punishment for your actions is to let you continue to associate with such refuse."

Xavo swiftly spun around and strode off, brusquely pushing his way through the gathered soldiers. Lady Mystic shook her head and then glared at the soldiers. The group fidgeted only briefly before turning away and dispersing. Lady Mystic watched the soldiers leave before turning and squatting next to Aakuta.

"You should not endanger yourself on my account," Aakuta groaned weakly.

Tears welled up in Lady Mystic's eyes as she cast a healing spell on the dark mage.

"You still care about me after what I did to you?" sniffed the Emperor's daughter. "Why?"

"You did what you had to do," replied Aakuta. "Should I stop loving you because of that?"

Lady Mystic smiled tightly, but tears continued to cascade down her cheeks. Suddenly, her eyes grew large and she stared incomprehensibly at Aakuta.

"You are lucid," Lady Mystic remarked. "How is that possible? No one has ever emerged from that chamber without being insane."

"Dobuk has never met the likes of me," Aakuta grinned before grunting in pain. "At times I can concentrate on other things, but not for long. The pain distracts me."

"And the pain will be worse for you than the others because you can think," frowned Lady Mystic. "You will be more aware of it. I must do something. Can you walk?"

"My arms and legs still function," Aakuta nodded as he rolled over and got to his knees.

The pain in his newly cracked rib shot through the mage, but he tried to ignore it. Lady Mystic stood and helped Aakuta to his feet. She draped one of his arms over her neck and wrapped one of her arms around him. Slowly she guided him across the street and into the alley that led to her home. When she got him through the door, Lady Mystic guided the dark mage to a chair at the table.

"Sit quietly while I mix you a potion," instructed the Emperor's daughter.

"A potion?" questioned the dark mage.

"It will relieve your pain," nodded Lady Mystic as she began mixing ingredients in a large flask. "It won't last long, but it will give you a small amount of relief for a time."

"Mix a lot of it," Aakuta smiled meekly. "I don't expect that Vand will allow me to die anytime in the near future."

"It is highly addictive," Lady Mystic shook her head. "Too much of it and you will lose your ability to reason. Just be thankful for an hour of peace."

Aakuta fell silent as he watched Lady Mystic mix the ingredients for the potion. The silence was disturbing, and Lady Mystic felt the need to talk.

"I have been watching you every day," she said softly. "I had no idea that you could reason. You hide it well."

"You can imagine what Vand would do if he knew that I could think," sighed Aakuta. "I knew that I must hide that fact well."

Lady Mystic's eyebrows rose as she turned to stare at the dark mage. She pondered Aakuta's admission and eventually nodded at his logic.

"He would torture you anew," she declared. "You were wise to hide it from him, but why do you wish to think? You are only making it harder on yourself. I would wager that it is wiser to be without reason in your condition. The insane do not feel the pain as severely as those who can concentrate."

"My task here is not complete," Aakuta admitted as he drank the potion that Lady Mystic handed to him. "Ah," he smiled broadly, "that is a wonderful feeling. I actually feel human again. How long will it last?"

"I am not sure," replied Lady Mystic. "My guess is around an hour, but I have never had the opportunity to try it on someone in your severe condition. What do you mean when you say that your task is not complete?"

"I have paid a steep price for spying on Vand," explained Aakuta. "The least I can do to repay him is to complete that task. I must continue to send word to Emperor Marak's people about what is happening here on Motanga. I must inform them when the invasion will begin."

"So you truly are the spy," frowned Lady Mystic. "I knew that you helped Rhoda escape, but how do you get any information to Emperor Marak?"

"I used the air tunnel that your father is so keen to learn about," smiled Aakuta.

"You know how to use an air tunnel?" gasped Lady Mystic. "You could have used that information to save yourself. Vand would have let you live if you gave it to him."

"I would rather die than see him possess such knowledge," spat Aakuta. "Rhoda felt the same way. No matter who interrogated her, they would never have learned the secret of the air tunnel. In fact, she was responsible for the destruction and death of her first interrogator. She had fully expected to die in her own attack. Vand should realize that Marak's people would never betray him."

"You would rather die?" Lady Mystic retorted scornfully. "What about what it does to me? You profess your love for me, but have you thought about how all of this affects me? I would rather that you did not die."

"I have thought a great deal about you," admitted Aakuta. "I wish that I had never met you. At least that way you would never have become hurt by my actions, but I cannot change history. You are wrong about your father, though. Oh, Vand would gratefully accept my knowledge of the air tunnel, but he would not reward me for it. He would kill me just the same. You truly do not understand that fiend, even after what he has done to you."

"His action was justified," frowned Lady Mystic. "I betrayed him. What would you expect him to do? Emperor Marak would do the same to you."

"That is where you are wrong," smiled Aakuta. "Emperor Marak, like the Sakovans, is capable of forgiveness. My daughter's people forgave me for everything that I did that endangered them. I could not understand that attitude at first, but I do understand it now. It is how your father should have reacted to you, but he didn't. Doesn't that tell you something? If your father truly loved you, he would never order your removal from his presence. Vand cares for no one but himself."

"He has to be strong," argued Lady Mystic. "He is responsible for ruling over so many people. He cannot waver from his duty just because I am his daughter. It is you who do not understand him."

"I will not argue with you over your father," Aakuta said with frustration as he rose from his chair. "Mark my words. Your father cares nothing for you. He will use you and toss you by the wayside when he no longer needs you. Emperor Marak is not that kind of person."

Aakuta turned and walked out of the room. Lady Mystic heard the door to the alley open and then close. She glared at the table for a moment and then swept her hand across its surface, sending flasks and ingredients crashing to the floor. She kicked the chair that Aakuta had been sitting in and then stormed out of the room. For several minutes she paced the floor, full of fury and indecision. Finally, she threw the door to the alley open and stepped out of her home. Off in the distance, she saw Aakuta at the mouth of the alley. The dark mage turned to the right and headed towards the beach. Lady Mystic quickened her step and followed.

Aakuta walked slowly as he pretended to still be in pain. He did not want anyone to know that he could think and function normally while the pain-killing potion was active. His path appeared to be erratic and without purpose, but the dark mage slowly made his way to the desolate stretch of beach where he had first set foot on the Island of Darkness.

When he reached the beach, he looked carefully in each direction to make sure that he was alone. Satisfied that he was not being observed, Aakuta wove an air tunnel to Raven's Point. He waited patiently until he felt someone at the other end. Aakuta always wove a one-way air tunnel to avoid the noise coming through from the other end, so he had no idea who he had managed to contact. All that he knew was that he had located someone with the abilities of an air mage, and that person was at the deserted cove where he normally sent his messages.

"This is Aakuta," the dark mage said softly into the air tunnel. "I have been absent for a long time, and I may not communicate again for a while, but I will still try to determine the time of the invasion if I am able to. I must report that Vand has discovered my purpose here on Motanga. That is the reason that my reports may become sporadic, or even stop at any time," he added.

Aakuta paused as he wondered how much the Khadorans really needed to know about his personal situation. He did not want any Khadorans coming to the island to rescue him; therefore he could not admit the trouble that he was in.

"As a security precaution," Aakuta continued, "I will always use the word Motanga in the first sentence of any future reports. Vand is keen on discovering the mechanism of the air tunnel, and he may eventually try to use it to confuse you. Be wary. I will try to contact you again soon. I hope that Rhoda made it home safely. I wish her well."

Aakuta dropped the air tunnel and stared out over the ocean waves. He was not sure how long he remained silently pondering the future, but the noise from the jungle behind him startled him. He whirled around to see Lady Mystic retreating through the foliage. Aakuta raced after her and caught up to her before she could exit the jungle.

"You were spying on me?" he asked accusingly.

"What if I was?" shrugged Lady Mystic. "You seem to think that spying is a noble pastime. Why complain when others do it?"

"It does not need to be like this," Aakuta sighed. "Can't we be friends without letting this war come between us?"

"Not when you continue to work against my father," Lady Mystic shook her head. "What more must he do to you to make you understand?"

"That is the question that I want to pose to you," frowned Aakuta. "How many times must he reject you and abuse you before you see him as he really is?"

"You just don't know him as I do," retorted Lady Mystic as she turned and walked away.

Aakuta watched sadly as his love retreated towards the city. He sighed with frustration before his mind got around to thinking about what she might have observed while spying on him. Suddenly, his jaw opened in fear. He had been a fool to let her walk away. Lady Mystic might be a fool where her father was concerned, but she was a tremendously intelligent woman. Was it possible that she saw him weave the air tunnel? Would she take that knowledge to Vand if she did?

Filled with terror, Aakuta raced towards the city, uncaring about his appearance to others. He ran into the alley hoping to see Lady Mystic walking along it. She was nowhere in sight. He continued to run along the alley until he came to the door to her home. It was wide open. He entered the house hoping to find Lady Mystic inside. The house was empty.

Aakuta stood in the laboratory staring at the broken glass and ingredients strewn across the floor. He thought about his previous exit from the house and tried to understand his friend's emotional state and determine what her reactions must have been. Finally, he nodded conclusively when he realized that she would take the air tunnel to Vand. There was nothing that Aakuta could do now to stop her. Instead of wasting time berating himself for his failure, Aakuta gathered up the ingredients that he had seen Lady Mystic use to make the pain-killing potion. He grabbed an old pack off the floor and filled it with what he would need to duplicate her potion.

With the pack in hand, Aakuta left the house, closing the door behind him. He immediately headed to the edge of the city and dashed across the open area to the forest beyond. Once he found a secluded glade, Aakuta sat down and opened the pack. He removed the ingredients and began to concoct a batch of the pain-killing potion. When he was done, he filled four glass bottles with the liquid and put stoppers in to seal them. He dug a hole with his hands and buried the old pack along with the tools used to make the potion. Taking the four bottles, Aakuta wandered through the woods, looking for four different places to hide the liquid drugs.

* * * *

Lady Mystic stopped at the front entrance to the temple. The guards immediately stiffened and move their pikes to prohibit her entry.

"You know that you are not allowed in the temple," stated one of the guards.

"I know," Lady Mystic nodded. "Send word to my father that I am here to see him. It is extremely important."

"The Emperor will not accept such a message," the guard shook his head. "You do not exist."

"You will go to the Emperor, and tell him that I am hear," Lady Mystic said forcefully. "If you don't, I will see that you are severely punished. Tell him that I know the secret of the air tunnel. Go!"

The two guards looked at each other for a long moment before one of them shrugged and stepped through the door. Lady Mystic waited impatiently for his return. The wait seemed like an eternity, but the guard eventually returned with a squad of soldiers.

"You will have an escort," announced the guard.

Lady Mystic sighed and nodded. She had not expected her father to treat her so poorly, but she knew that everything would change in a few moments. She allowed herself to be escorted up to the throne room. She smiled broadly as she walked into the throne room. It felt like home to her. She gazed up at her father and smiled. The Emperor glared in return.

"You profess to know the air tunnel," Vand announced bluntly. "Prove it."

Lady Mystic halted halfway across the room. Half of the soldiers escorting her continued onward unaware of her halting. The other half stopped abruptly in confusion. Lady Mystic wove the air tunnel and aimed it at the Emperor.

"I have succeeded where others have failed, Father," Lady Mystic said softly into the air tunnel.

A look of surprise illuminated the Emperor's face. He grinned broadly and nodded. "Approach, Lady Mystic," he said loudly.

Lady Mystic grinned and felt a shiver of victory course through her body. The others in the room stared in confusion as they wondered what was happening. Lady Mystic marched up and stood before her father.

"Teach me," the Emperor instructed. "I want to know how it is done."

Lady Mystic gladly instructed the Emperor in the creation of the air tunnel. He nodded his understanding and experimented with it. First he aimed one at Clarvoy, the head spy for Motanga.

"Now we have something we can use against them," whispered the Emperor. "We must discuss the implications of this discover. Stay when the others are dismissed."

Across the room, the head spy merely nodded. Next, the Emperor directed an air tunnel at one of the mages in the rear of the room. He instructed the man to leave the room. While no one else had heard the utterance, the mage nodded and walked out the doors.

"This is wonderful," announced the Emperor. "How did you learn this magic?"

"I watched Aakuta use it," grinned Lady Mystic. "Surely you can have no doubts about my loyalty now. He would die if he knew that I was instructing you in its use."

"He would not die," frowned the Emperor. "I have not allowed it yet. Why didn't you bring this knowledge to me before? Why have you waited until now?"

"I just learned it," answered Lady Mystic. "I brought the knowledge to you as soon as I learned it."

"Do not lie to me," shouted Vand. "The insane do not go around casting spells."

"I am not lying," frowned Lady Mystic. "I do not understand it, but Aakuta still has the ability to reason. I made up a potion to ease his pain, and he became quite lucid. The first thing he did was to run to the beach and create an air tunnel. I followed him and spied on him. I came here as soon as I learned his secret."

"You aided the traitor?" scowled Vand. "You will never aid him again. Is that understood?"

"I understand," Lady Mystic responded, her brow creasing heavily, "but my aid enabled us to discover his secret. Besides, I will never see him again once I move back into the temple. Surely you would not allow him entry."

"Allow him entry?" balked Vand. "Never. I do not allow the enemy into my midst. Everybody out. This court session is over."

The people started to leave. Lady Mystic turned to leave, and Vand stopped her.

"Not you, Daughter," Vand said softly. "I am not through with you yet."

Lady Mystic turned to her father and smiled. When all of the people had left, Clarvoy stepped forward and stood beside Lady Mystic.

"Lady Mystic has brought valuable information today," the Emperor said to the head spy.

Lady Mystic beamed with pride as she listened.

"This information has altered my plans," the Emperor continued. "Aakuta must be found and destroyed."

"How can we destroy him?" asked Clarvoy. "He is protected from death."

"Not any longer," announced the Emperor. "By the time you exit the temple, his protection from death will be lifted."

"It shall be as you wish," nodded Clarvoy.

"You are also to go to Lady Mystic's home," instructed the Emperor. "Destroy her laboratory. I will not have traitors making potions to aid my enemy."

"Destroy my laboratory?" Lady Mystic echoed with shock. "Is that really necessary? Couldn't I just move it to my chambers here in the temple?"

"You have no chambers in this temple," sneered the Emperor. "You never will again. I told you before that I do not tolerate traitors in my midst. You are alive only because you are my daughter, but life is all that our relationship buys you. Cross me again and even your life will be forfeit."

"I am not a traitor," Lady Mystic fumed. "Who else would bring you the air tunnel? I have done more for you than even Clarvoy."

The Emperor struck swiftly. He rose from the throne and slapped Lady Mystic across the face. Lady Mystic sprawled on the floor and looked up at her father with hurt and surprise.

"You think that being my daughter makes you immune from my wrath?" laughed the Emperor. "I have had thousands of sons and daughters. You should be grateful that my blood flows through your veins. It is my only gift to you. Get out of my sight before I change my mind and have you executed for my enjoyment."

Lady Mystic rose, her cheek stinging from the blow and tears flowing from her eyes. What hurt the most as she retreated from the room was the fact that Aakuta had been right all along. Her father was an animal who cared for no one but himself. Lady Mystic cried as she raced down the stairs.

Her first instinct was to run to her house and try to preserve her laboratory, but she knew that that effort was futile. Clarvoy would search her entire home to make sure that everything was destroyed. She wanted desperately to find Aakuta, but how could she face him now? Twice she had betrayed him. No man could possibly forgive her after that. She had had to choose between her lover and her father, and she had chosen wrong. Now she had neither.

Lady Mystic ran out of the temple and through the streets of the city. She wandered through the jungle to the secluded spot on the beach where she had spied on Aakuta. There she threw herself on the ground and cried herself to sleep.


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