JUST BEYOND the flaming wall, the chaotic horde of Chamdon grunted and howled. Here and there a few would leap through the fire, bursting into flames before they landed dead on the ground. Each dead body, however, set off a maelstrom of offensive weapons aimed at the army on the other side of the barrier. Farrell was impressed by the savage nature of the defenses.
A long, piercing shout ripped across the battlefield. Although Farrell couldn’t understand the command, the effect was immediate. The mindless cacophony grew eerily quiet, and the Chamdon moved a couple of paces back. Once the area was cleared, scores of wizards attacked the flames. Had the wall been static, many of the attempts would have created safe passages across, but Farrell had designed it to be dynamic. Twice he sent new spells through the line, disrupting the efforts.
Penelope and the other mages used the time to pick off enemy wizards. Each attack drew an immediate response from Vedric and his inner circle, but Penelope had trained her people well, and they didn’t suffer any casualties that Farrell could see.
The same couldn’t be said for the fiery wall. Each attack from the enemy weakened it some, and the counterattacks Farrell sent through it affected it even more. Farrell allowed the fire to burn out to maximize its utility. Just before the spell failed, Farrell took it down. He summoned the two staffs and stashed them back in his pocket.
With nothing visible barring the way, Vedric sent his army charging toward the city walls. The first three rows were cut down before they made it ten paces.
Hundreds of spells, each as different as the wizard who cast it, vied with each other like suitors over a pretty maiden. The different spells, engaged all at once, decimated the lower-level wizards who tried to counter them. As others had suggested, spells that had been popular millennia ago, but had been nearly forgotten, did the most damage.
Caustic liquids, noxious gas, sharpened projectiles, and vaporizing energy blasts erupted from the ground around Farrell. The sound of crackling energy mixed with the screams of humans and howls of pain from the Chamdon assailed his hearing. Farrell ignored them all as he kept watch on the turmoil around him.
Vedric’s wizards formed into groups of three or four and began the tedious job of neutralizing the deadly ground. Agloth’s wizards left them alone for a few minutes. When it seemed to Farrell they had forgotten about the threat from the walls, Penelope and the others reminded them why it was unwise to attack such a fortified city.
Three teams were killed before the others took a more tentative approach that brought the army’s progress to a halt. Wizards in the black and red of Zargon’s elite moved to the front line and assumed control. Farrell hadn’t seen Vedric, Petres, Brezlaw, or any of the other senior wizards take a direct hand.
Under the guidance of the more seasoned mages, the enemy slowly cleared the ground. The group nearest to him showed good success as the experienced wizard made efficient use of his underlings. Several magi in his group worked to disable the spells while he and another senior wizard provided protection. Twice a counterattack from the wall failed to breach their shield.
In one swift motion, Farrell leveled his staff at the group and fired. A burst of brilliant blue energy surged across the space and detonated against the pesky shield. When the flash subsided, little more than charred bits of flesh and clothing remained.
Instantly spells struck his shields from all directions. Farrell ignored them all and returned his staff to his back. These ended quickly as Penelope and her wizards used the distraction to strike back at his attackers.
“Can you tell… suggest to Penelope that she scale back her attacks for the time being?” he asked Nerti. “A few strategic attacks should be enough to force them to expend maximum effort. She and the others should conserve their strength and let the spells do their work.”
“She agreed with your suggestion but wants to know what you did to take out that shield.”
“Tell her I will teach her the spell when things quiet down a bit.”
He removed five clear spheres, none bigger than an olive, from his pocket and passed his left hand over the group. Energy jumped between his hands, and the small orbs started to shake. Farrell stared at the objects until they shot out in different directions. Unable to watch them all, he knew they each sought a cluster of wizards.
The energized balls attached themselves to a shield and quivered briefly. When nothing happened, the wizards in four of the five groups ignored the small ball. The leader of the fifth group immediately dropped all other tasks and began a frantic effort to dislodged Farrell’s attack.
After a few seconds, the balls began to jiggle, and the other groups took notice. Farrell ignored all but the group whose wizard realized the danger. The other four were already too late.
Slowly the clear orbs siphoned energy from the shield. They steadily expanded until they’d grown to the size of large melons. A small nub extended from the ball and pressed against the magical barrier, forcing it to bow slightly. Farrell saw the strain on the faces of the wizards affected as they strove to prevent an incursion.
Without warning a stream of clear spray erupted from the ball, showering everyone inside the shield. The mist dissipated with no visible results. Vedric’s wizards looked around, as if searching for something. A second later, everyone reacted at once, furiously scratching and rubbing themselves.
Distracted, the wizards lost control of their spells, and the shields disappeared. Those affected by the spray appeared oblivious to their situation and continued to scrub at their bodies. Left unprotected, they were quickly cut down by the still-active defensive spells.
The wizard who recognized the danger managed to contain Farrell’s attack, but their success was fleeting. Penelope and her wizards took advantage of the distraction to blast apart the weakened shield and its occupants.
Brezlaw and the other senior members of Vedric’s wizard corps finally moved to the front and assumed command. The enemy began to grind its way slowly toward Agloth. Working behind a new, more powerful shield, the mages were able to disable the city’s defenses. Rather than waste energy attacking the enemy’s new protection, Penelope and Farrell allowed them to work unmolested.
Farrell watched intently how Brezlaw and the other dark wizards attacked Agloth’s defenses. He was so focused he didn’t see a clutch of Chamdon approach his position until they ran full on into his shield. The attack, the first of the battle, surprised him. He’d expected a focused, powerful attack, especially after he’d taken direct action against Vedric’s wizards. Although every wizard with any talent could see how strong his defenses were, he still thought some would try to rid the field of his presence.
Another cluster of Chamdon joined the attack. Farrell could have cleared the snarling creatures with a wave of his hand, but he didn’t. Although he expected some counterattack if he tried to dispatch them, fear of reprisal wasn’t why he stayed his hand. Instead he felt pity for the deranged creatures and wondered at how twisted Meglar’s heart must have become that he could so callously treat people like this. When he remembered death would be preferable to being a Chamdon, he struggled to keep from killing them all and exposing himself to a dangerous response.
Farrell felt the spells surrounding the walls go dead. “What in the…?” He twisted in search of the cause.
“Penelope said she turned off the defenses because they weren’t reaching the enemy. She wants to preserve them for the future.”
“Tell her….” The creatures jerked to attention and stopped their attack. They and the other Chamdon massed behind them, split in two, and moved around Farrell’s position. Behind the last of the Chamdon, he could see someone standing.
“Tell her what?” Nerti asked.
As the entire army swarmed around his protective bubble, Farrell saw the person clearly. Vedric stood alone with his arms crossed, glaring at him.
“Tell her to be safe.”
Farrell tuned out her answer as well as the activity around him. Miceral and Penelope would need to handle the army. Vaguely he heard trumpets signaling Agloth’s counterattack and he sensed a fierce magical battle begin, but he didn’t turn to look.
Pale, gangly, with black hair, Vedric looked more like Farrell than Meglar. His half brother stood motionless with a staff planted in the ground to his right. A powerful shield surrounded him, and Farrell noted a second inner layer of protection. Whatever else Meglar had done, he’d seen that Vedric received proper basic training.
The sneer on his face couldn’t entirely mask a hint of fear. Farrell made sure he showed no reaction to his sibling’s presence. “Hello, Vedric. If you’ve come to Agloth to petition Seritia, this wasn’t the best way to win Her favor.”
Vedric’s eyes opened wider for a second, but he quickly recovered. “Who are you?”
“I thought you’d have gone home after I destroyed your invisibility spell.” He saw a flicker of anger in his brother’s face. “Brezlaw gave you bad advice, but then overconfidence runs in the House of Vedri.”
“Be careful. He is powerful and dangerous.” Nerti’s warning reminded him she stood behind him and to his left.
“What do you know of me or my family?” Vedric dropped his arms and balled his hands into fists. He snatched his staff from the ground and advanced on Farrell. “Overconfident? I think not. The House of Vedri will soon rule the world. The Seven Kingdoms are almost finished. Once they fall, the rest of Nendor will quickly follow. You are but an ant to be crushed beneath our boots as we march to our destiny.”
Farrell shook his head. Meglar didn’t care if Vedric died. Even his children were expendable. He might have pitied his half brother, but Vedric had showed himself to be just as uncaring as his father. “You have no idea what’s happening.”
He spoke so softly, Vedric couldn’t have heard him, and his face showed no signs he had. He stopped walking a few dozen paces from Farrell and waited. Lowering his staff at Farrell, Vedric sent a burst of brown energy at his adversary.
With a guttural sound coming from his mouth, Vedric launched three more rapid-fire assaults. Farrell didn’t move and allowed these to strike his shield. It deflected his brother’s onslaught while he just stared straight ahead. He wanted his brother to see his lack of effect, hoping to shake his confidence.
Vedric stood quietly, his eyes darting about, as if searching for a solution. Suddenly, several blue and green globes of fire pulsed in succession from the top of Farrell’s battle staff. Vedric’s shield absorbed these blows with minimal impact.
Farrell heard the battle rage behind him but did his best to ignore the fight. He knew Nerti would monitor the situation and advise him if his help was needed. Instead he kept his attention on his wizards’ duel. When Vedric attacked again, Farrell noticed something odd when the energy struck. He modified his shields and goaded his half brother into attacking again. When the second blast hit, it confirmed his suspicions.
“Why do you hold back?” Nerti asked. “You should go for the victory and be done with it.”
“Meglar trained him. Vedric might teach me a few things about my father that will be useful when we meet.” Vedric fired a new assault, and Farrell noted that his shields soaked in the power and transferred it to him. “That and I find it astounding that he hasn’t learned how to prevent his opponent from absorbing his energy. That’s basic wizardry.”
“Have you considered it might be a trap? That he wants you to consume his attacks?”
“Yes.” Farrell sent an attack through the ground that erupted around Vedric. That disrupted his half brother midspell, and the result was a barely noticeable strike. “I tested it first before I modified my shield.”
Farrell continued to attack but never with enough power or skill to end the fight. He succeeded in rattling Vedric several times, with his half brother growing more frustrated with each one. On his end, Vedric’s assaults were getting stronger, but they still lacked anything approaching the skill Farrell expected from a grand master wizard.
“Vedric has employed the skill of a sledgehammer attacking a moth,” Nerti said after an hour had passed. “I think we can conclude you’ll learn nothing of value to use against your father. End this now so we can conclude the battle.”
Nerti’s assessment cut to the heart of Farrell’s dilemma; he didn’t want to kill his half brother. He’d let the fight continue after he knew he’d learn nothing more from Vedric. “You’re right. There was no point in letting it go this long.”
“You knew before this began there could only be one outcome.”
He didn’t answer. How could he deny the truth? Vedric breathed deeply and appeared to take advantage of Farrell’s indecision. Farrell stared at him and shook his head. “I’m sorry, Vedric, but I’ve played with you long enough.”
The insult stirred his half brother to action. “Don’t mock me! I’m the heir to the House of Vedri.”
“Heir to an evil legacy you are, but I’m still your better. Unlike your father, my teachers didn’t fear to teach me everything they knew.”
“I am second to no one but my father.” Despite his words, Vedric didn’t attack.
Rather than let him use the time to rest, Farrell pointed his staff and sent a blast of wizard’s fire several times stronger than any he’d employed to that point. The energy crackled and danced along the shield, and Vedric’s face showed the strain of trying to shore up his battered defenses. Before the green flames fully disappeared, Farrell extended his left hand and cast an obscure spell he had taken from one of Kel’s books.
A purplish bubble materialized halfway between the two wizards. The sphere moved quickly and landed on the crown of Vedric’s shield before he could react. Like paint oozing down a wall, the purple substance flowed toward the ground, covering Vedric’s magical barrier in a translucent shell.
Vedric looked at the substance from several angles before he lowered his staff and aimed it at Farrell. When the attack detonated on the inside, Vedric flinched. He squinted and reached forward to touch his shield.
“Why aren’t you attacking?” Nerti sounded irritated. “End this.”
“I will, but if I attack now, I’ll destroy the spell that blocks his magic from leaving.” Farrell removed a handful of small stones from his pocket as he watched Vedric try two different spells to break the hold. He growled when neither proved successful.
Next Vedric erected a second, slightly smaller shield inside the first, then dismissed the outer one. When the covering dropped onto the newer shield, Vedric screamed. Visibly shaken, he expanded his magical barrier until it almost reached Farrell’s position. Again he created a second line of defense inside the larger one, but this time he curled the bottom of the outer shield upward. Once the viscous substance had been collected into a ball, Vedric hurled it at Farrell.
As the purple liquid came toward him, Farrell tossed his weapons at Vedric. He waved his other hand to disperse the spell Vedric sent back.
Vedric immediately attempted to counterattack, but Farrell’s new assault struck first. The stones affixed themselves to his shield and exploded in rapid succession. Not waiting for Vedric to recover, Farrell fired several powerful blasts of green fire at the now-weakened wall. The sixth ball shattered Vedric’s protection and sent him to his knees.
Defenseless and gasping for breath, Vedric tugged at Farrell’s emotions. This wasn’t Quonus, whom he hated and wanted to kill. This was the brother he’d never met, and but for circumstances, they might have been friends. Vedric raised his head and glared at him like a wounded animal caught in a trap. “I’m sorry, but you are too much Meglar’s son for me to allow you to live. This isn’t personal, merely war. You chose the wrong side.” Farrell lowered his staff for the final blow.
“Nordric!” Nerti’s scream ripped through his mind and caused him to drop his staff. The word was accompanied by searing waves of anguish that crippled him. “No!”
“Nerti! Stop!” he shouted back. “Our minds are still linked.”
“Nordric!” She screamed her son’s name again and sent a new surge of pain into Farrell’s mind.
He clutched both sides of his head and tried to look up. “Nerti! Stop!”
She continued to wail, and he felt himself suffocating on a flood of grief that gushed out. Exerting every ounce of willpower he could, he focused at the viselike grip of pain Nerti had locked onto his mind. “Nerti, please stop! You’re killing me!”
Tears streamed down his cheeks and blood flowed from his nose as he strained to wall off her mental assault. On his hands and knees, his mind nearly shattered, he twisted his staff toward her and focused on the simplest killing spell he knew. Just before he fired it at her, his mind was free.
Through the echo of the unimaginable pain Nerti had inflicted on him, he saw her bolt toward Agloth faster than he’d ever seen her run. An instant later he felt another presence move closer.
Farrell could not focus his thoughts enough to raise a shield to ward off the attack. Even if he could, any shield created on a moment’s notice would not withstand whatever Vedric was about to throw at him. He managed to raise his head and saw a gleeful smile on Vedric’s face as a blast of wizard’s fire erupted from his staff.
Death had been a constant possibility for him since the war began, and Farrell had wondered after prior battles what it felt like to be blown apart by his magic. That curiosity was the last thought he had before the blow struck.