Chapter 31

The forge hammer looked scarred and ugly, resting on its head next to the seal. Aden did not want to appear sentimental, yet the seal was a worn but whole reminder of his predecessors. He wondered if his sentimentality was a weakness when these men around him clearly had no doubts.

“Does the barrier go up when we break the seal?” the governor asked, staring at the floor with his arms crossed.

Aden shrugged. “People are still outside, gathering their possessions. They’ve barely begun.”

“We are all aware of the time, Mage,” the governor said, not suppressing his exasperation. “We may not have that much time. Does the damn thing work?”

“’Bust it open’ is my only suggestion,” Aden said. “However, if the barrier goes up immediately, everyone out there will be trapped. This is the same issue we had in Kagan-cal: these battlemages did not explain their methods or their process. Their deliberate choices to withhold knowledge leaves us stumbling in the dark.”

“It’s them, not you?” the governor asked with a raised eyebrow. All eyes in the room were staring at Aden.

“We should take comfort that most temples of phyzeec turned away from the art of warfare millennia ago, leaving most of the world safer,” Aden said, wondering just what the governor was prodding him to say. “These were the last battlemages that I know of, and they stripped their Hall of their secrets.”

“Just how ignorant are we of Crestfall’s magical defenses,” the captain asked. He was leaning on the edge of the desk with a red face. His thumbs were tucked in his belt. “Can we turn them on and then, can we turn them off?”

The governor pressed his hands together and brought his index fingers to his lips. “The magical defenses were strong at Mage Hall, and they weathered a terrible siege. We also know the monster was unable to penetrate the barrier then or now. When we remove all the people from his grasp, this step should take away the last weapon that he used.”

“What other weapons does he have and what weapons do we have?” the captain asked. Aden was only half-listening as he admired the new brown boots the captain was wearing. They looked massive, capable of crushing rodents under the heel. He was just about to give the captain a compliment when he realized bringing any attention to the man’s boots might be an enormous distraction and stupid as well.

“Magic, captain,” Ezza said. “Magic silver shields and magic blue swords, of which most of us understand nothing and of the one that does, he’s a teacher, not a fighter.”

The governor dropped his hands and began pacing. “There are too many unknowns. They raised the barrier before our eyewitness in the reports arrived, and he does not describe how they dropped it, because he was outside the walls. Whatever the mechanism is, it is here though.”

“Ah, you mentioned ‘a monster,’” the captain said.

“The last of the great Dominion kings was raving mad,” the governor said, “murdering tens of thousands, reducing his army to mannikins, and practicing a silver magic that turned people into living corpses. The battlemages could not kill it; they could only seal him away.”

“He has returned, captain,” Ezza said. “We couldn’t kill it with magic, a magic sword, or arrows. We can’t attack with an overwhelming force because he turns people into walking corpses.”

“Burn him?” the captain said.

“Frees the corpses but he has some way of surviving the heat, smoke, and flames,” Ezza said. “The captain’s report at the time was clear on that point.”

“Well, then,” Captain Ellington said, “we can dispense with the cavalry charge and go immediately to an artillery barrage. How does he fare against sticks and stones?”

“Little bastard could probably dodge most things we lob,” Ezza said. “Plus, he has magic shielding. Maybe if the load was large enough, but I would not place a wager on it.”

“Assassination, it is,” the captain said. “Stealth, a few men, and little material used. Of course, the assassin must get personally close, which could be an issue.”

“Could be,” Aden squeaked. “He reacts with pain to salt, and we found a super salt among . . . the battlemage stores. Someone has to get close enough to spring it on his skin.”

“Salt him to death?” the captain said, pulling on his mustache.

“Salt him and then chop him to pieces,” Aden said, until he listened to his own words. “Doesn’t sound like a robust plan, does it?”

“Did the battlemages try this plan first?” the captain asked.

“We do not know what they attempted in the final battle,” the governor said, “but it is safe to say they did not use these salts.”

“Then it’s the best plan you’ve got,” the captain said. “Gods willing, it will suffice.” He began pacing the room, looking at one and then another until he got to his desk. “Where and how are we going to hide our assassins?”

Aden bowed out of the discussion. Instead, he sidled over to the window and contemplated the events of the day. He had won over Ezza, which gave him hope and encouragement. The governor had held his end of their bargain, holding back his disdain. His neck muscles ached, and his eyes felt sunken, but he had gotten the entourage to the fort in two and a half days. He had done it and done it without complaint.

The taint on the day was Zaya. He had assumed she would be happy to see him, an assumption he should have questioned. Strike that, an assumption he had challenged in his most bitter and dark moments, dismissing the thought as manufactured nonsense. Perhaps he had transformed her into some sort of ideal when she was just as coarse as the rest of this distant lot. He could spend the rest of these precious moments of calm mulling over her standoffish nonsense or he could turn to the real issues of the day.