Now Larin was sipping the steaming beverage as he sat at a table across from the king, listening as Shandon told him the latest news. He looked quite concerned, but did not say a word until the king was done.

  “I had no idea that someone had already tried to infiltrate the throne room to get a look at the anchor,” he exclaimed when the king had finished speaking. “Do we know who was behind the scheme in the first place?”

  “Not really,” Shandon replied after he had quaffed some ale and wiped his lips. “Ah, that's better. I've done a lot of walking today and I was as dry as old stone.”

  He set down his mug and leaned back in his chair, watching Larin closely.

  “The leader of the little group of amateur spies was a merchant with no skill in such work. I believe that he was chosen because of his well known greed and willingness to do anything for enough gold. The person who hired him was robed and wore a hood. All he could tell us was that it was a female and that she was not a dwarf. Which means that she was either a human or an elf. I find that very disturbing.”

  “It is,” the mage replied. “Of course, she could have been something else.”

  “Something else?”

  Shandon frowned at Larin.

  “What else could she have been? There are only three mortal races on this world. And according to our prisoner, his employer was too tall to be a dwarf.”

  Larin smiled gently at the king.

  “And why should we assume that she was a member of any of the three mortal races?” he said.

  Shandon looked confused and the mage continued to speak.

  “My lord, your own words argue against her being either a human or an elf. You say that she met with that greedy merchant here, in Kingstone. No human or elf, not even one who is a mage, could Gate this deeply below the surface of the world by themselves. The mages of Nottinghill Castle are hard at work trying to learn to use their combined powers to achieve such a feat, but for now they cannot. Which is why the anchor is so important to us all. The elves do not use magic, at least not anymore. They did in ancient times, but they have lost that ability, apparently. Their seeker, Callius, could do it, but you say that the agent was a woman, so it wasn't him.”

  “And a thorough search of the walls of the cavern around Kingstone have revealed no new tunnels leading to the surface,” Shandon added. “Hmm. So where does that leave us? Who else could it have been, if not a human or an elf?”

  Larin raised his cup of tea and stared into it as if reading the tiny bits of tea leaves floating on its surface.

  “Our real enemies are not members of the other mortal races, but the creatures created by the Chaos lords,” he said thoughtfully. “The goblins are the obvious enemy, of course, but there are others. We know that powerful agents of the dark gods have attacked all three of our races. That mysterious female the merchant spoke of could have been one of them.”

  Shandon stared at him blankly and then began fiddling with the beads braided into his beard.

  “Ah, them,” he muttered. “Yes, of course. Well, well. That puts a new spin on this whole affair, doesn't it? If you are right, Larin, this just became a lot more serious than it already was.”

  He lifted his mug and drained it. Then Shandon stood up and walked over to the bar for a refill.

  “Can you and your mages use your skills to investigate the possibility that the person who paid the merchant for his services was something other than a human or an elf?” he asked Larin as he leaned back against the bar.

  “Yes, my lord, we can do that,” Larin assured him. “In fact, I was going suggest it. A supernatural being would have left behind some trace of their presence. We can detect such things. We can also search the city for any other evidence of their meddling, just in case the merchant that you apprehended wasn't the only dwarf co-opted by this person.”

  “Then do so,” Shandon told him. “If we are threatened by something or someone who is not mortal, your mages may be our only defense against them. We must protect the anchor at all costs, understood?”

  “Understood, my lord,” Larin replied as he put down his tea cup and stood up. “I will gather my mages together and begin immediately.”

  He hurried from the room and Shandon walked back to the table and sat down. He stared into his full mug of ale and then pushed it away angrily, cursing softly.

  “Now I know how my father must have felt as he sat in this room and waited helplessly for his doom to fall,” he muttered. “Well, I am not him. I may not be a mage, but by the Stone there is something that I can do while Larin does his work. And I intend to do just that.”

  Chapter 16

  “This is starting to become a regular event, you know. And I don't like it.”

  Sebastian was sitting up in bed, staring bleary-eyed at his sister who had barged into his bedroom and woken him up. It was at least an hour before dawn and the room was cool and painted with shadows. The full moon could be seen through a window, slowly setting in the west as it surrendered the sky to the approaching sun. Its pale light fell on Sebastian as he sat up, half asleep and disheveled, and squinted at Tamara.

  “What is it this time?” he asked thickly. “Goblins? Dragons? Do you have a tummy ache?”

  His sister chuckled at him as she stood in the shadows, her white robe making her look like a ghost.

  “None of the above. I'm sorry to wake you, Bastian, but I was just woken up myself by one of the staff. We've received a call and I wanted you with me when I answered it.”

  “A call?”

  Sebastian stared at her in confusion.

  “A call from whom? And how are they calling us?”

  “It's the dwarven king, Shandon Ironhand. And he's using the anchor. So get up. Keeping a king waiting is not a good idea, especially after his last communication and the snafu that caused.”

  Her brother groaned as he threw back the covers and pushed himself to his feet.

  “And put on some clothes,” Tamara told him with a grin. “It's chilly outside and, as I've already told you, walking around in your underwear is not very dignified.”

  “And as I told you, I don't care about my dignity,” Sebastian replied irritably. “But since I don't want to insult Shandon, I'll throw something on.”

  The two of them hurried through the silent halls of the castle, passing a few guards and a couple of staff members who greeted the siblings with surprise.

  “See, even the night staff are amazed that we're wandering around at this ungodly hour,” Sebastian said, sounding grumpy.

  He was trying to smooth out the wrinkles in his robe as they walked quickly toward the main doors of the castle, but he was having very little success.

  Tamara glanced at him and shook her head.

  “You wore that thing yesterday,” she reminded him. “Couldn't you at least have put on something clean and not so wrinkled?”

  “If you want me to get dressed in a hurry in the middle of the night, you take what you get,” her brother replied.

  Tamara sighed and increased her pace, forcing Sebastian to stop fiddling with his clothing and concentrate on his footing. His muttered cursing made his sister smile in spite of herself.

  Once they had exited the castle, they trotted across the courtyard toward the walls of the anchor enclosure. Torches were still lit around the courtyard, dancing in the cool early morning breeze.

  At the entrance to the enclosure, four guards stood at the open iron doors. They saluted in unison as they recognized the mages and then stood aside and allowed them to enter.

  Inside the walls, more torches burned in brackets and illuminated the shining black obelisk in the center of the large space. The stars over the enclosure could still be seen shining coldly above the anchor and Tamara looked up at them with a frown.

  “We need a roof on this place,” she said to her brother. “Goblins mounted on their monstrous bats might be able to swoop down and take control of this enclosure if their numbers were great enough.”

  Sebastian shivered in the chilly air, but he looked up as well and nodded.

  “Good point. We should talk to Thomas later and see if his stonemasons can cap the enclosure. A little more security couldn't hurt.”

  Standing next to the pillar was a towering figure wearing plate armor. The siblings both smiled as they recognized Malcolm.

  “Good god, man,” Sebastian exclaimed as they joined the warrior. “Don't you ever sleep?”

  Malcolm grinned at him as he pushed back his long braids.

  “Not too often,” he replied pleasantly. “My...condition allows me to take brief naps whenever I get tired. It's a handy byproduct of lycanthropy, I suppose. But enough of that. The king is waiting to speak with you.”

  The two mages turned to look at the anchor. It was glowing with a pale, blue light that pulsed slowly like a living thing.

  Sebastian swallowed nervously and rubbed his eyes.

  “Your majesty? Are you there?” Tamara asked loudly.

  “Ah, Lady Tamara,” Shandon's voice replied, emanating from the pillar. “Yes, I am here. I apologize for disturbing your rest. I had no idea that it was the middle of the night in Nottinghill Castle. I should have checked with someone before I called, I suppose.”

  “There's no need to apologize, my lord,” she replied with a quick look at her brother. “We were just getting up anyway.”

  “Well, I wasn't,” Sebastian muttered.

  Tamara glared at him as Malcolm covered his mouth to stifle a laugh.

  “So what can we do for you, my lord?” she continued, turning back to watch the anchor.

  “We've got a problem,” Shandon said gravely. “One that affects your people and the elves as well. We discovered that a group of spies were attempting to find a way to infiltrate the palace and take control of our anchor. Fortunately for us, none of them managed to achieve their goal and our security is intact. In fact, I have increased the number of guards around the throne room and throughout the palace.”

  “Spies?” Tamara exclaimed in alarm.

  She looked at her brother and Malcolm. Both of their expressions mirrored her own.

  “Yes, spies. And if they tried to get to our anchor, I think we can be fairly certain that they will make an attempt on yours as well. Which is why I am calling. You must take precautions, my friends. I know how small your garrison of warriors is and that it is spread quite thin. Malcolm, are you still there?”

  “I am, my lord,” the big man replied.

  “Good. I do not want to step on your toes as commander of the castle's guardsmen, nor do I want to seem to be trying to subvert your authority, Lady Tamara. But if you and the other leaders think it prudent, I am prepared to send you a squad of dwarven warriors to assist you in guarding the anchor. The decision is yours, of course.”

  “That is...very generous, my lord,” Tamara said as she watched Malcolm's reaction.

  The warrior returned her gaze steadily as he replied to the king.

  “I would welcome your assistance, my lord,” he stated. “And I believe that both Tamara and Sebastian would as well. But as you have noted, all of our leaders will have to agree to this. I doubt that they will object, considering how admired you and your people are here in Nottinghill.”

  “Malcolm is right, my lord,” Sebastian spoke up. “Our fellow leaders are not fools, even if a few of them are a bit stubborn occasionally. As long as we present the proposal to them honestly and tell them of the plot that you discovered in Kingstone, I believe that they would accept your offer.”

  “Very well then. I am going to make the same offer to the elves,” Shandon told them. “To be honest, I think that their anchor is incredibly vulnerable to attack and, while I admire their rangers, and their skill and toughness, they are better suited to fighting against forest creatures and monsters rather than standing toe to toe with a phalanx of goblin berserkers. I hope that they will accept my offer as graciously as you three have.”

  “Ethmira is no fool, my lord,” Malcolm told him. “You know that as well as I do. She will see the wisdom in allowing you to send your troops to help them.”

  “Let us hope so. Get in touch with me when you have met with the other leaders and let me know what you decide to do. And again, I apologize for waking you.”

  “It was no trouble at all, my lord,” Tamara assured him just as Sebastian yawned loudly.

  Shandon chuckled.

  “I'm glad to hear that,” he replied jovially. “Good day to you all.”

  “And to you, my lord.”

  The pale light around the anchor faded away and Tamara glowered at her brother.

  “What?” he asked innocently.

  Malcolm laughed and slapped Sebastian on the shoulder, almost knocking him off of his feet.

  “Oops. Sorry about that,” the big man exclaimed as he steadied the mage. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine, thanks,” Sebastian said weakly as he rubbed his shoulder and winced. “At least I'm awake now.”

  “Malcolm, I'll send some of the staff to inform the leadership that there will be a meeting at noon. We'll see you there?”

  “Of course. But until then, I'll stay here and keep an eye on that thing,” Malcolm said, nodding at the pillar. “If the king was right, and I'm sure he was, the threat to it is even greater than we realized. I'll feel better if I just babysit it until we get those dwarven forces that Shandon offered us.”

  Shandon stood in the center of the throne room with his hands on his hips and stared at the towering anchor. A dozen guards were stationed just inside the main doors, while another group of warriors protected the entrance outside of the hall.

  Next to the king, Larin watched the pillar closely, his long gray robes and placid expression making him look more like a priest than a mage. He was leaning on his crystal staff as he waited for the king to contact the elves.

  The mage had returned to the palace and reported that his people were using their combined powers to try to find any trace of the mysterious agent who had hired the spymaster. So far, they had found nothing.

  “But I thought that one of my kind should stay close to the anchor,” Larin told the king. “Until we are certain that there is no imminent threat to it.”

  “I am glad to have you here, my friend,” Shandon said. “I'm uneasy using this...” he waved at the pillar. “...device. I'm just a simple warrior. I don't know anything of magic, nor do I really want to. This is your area of expertise, not mine.”

  “You seem to be doing fairly well so far, my lord,” Larin replied with a sly smile.

  Shandon snorted with amusement.

  “Yes, well, touching the surface of the anchor and concentrating on who I want to contact isn't difficult. Even a thick-headed old soldier like me can do it. Anyway, let's continue. I think that the humans will allow me to send them some support to protect their anchor, but whether the elves will agree as well is another matter.”

  He stepped forward and laid his palm on the black stone. The blue veins crisscrossing its surface began to pulse in time with the king's heartbeat and Shandon growled in distaste as he stared at the pillar.

  “Ethmira, can you hear me?” he said loudly.

  The anchor glowed with cyan light, but there was no response.

  The king frowned and looked over his shoulder at Larin.

  “It is working, isn't it?” he asked the mage.

  “Yes, my lord. I can feel the ley energy channeling through the anchor and reaching toward the surface,” Larin assured him.

  “Then why is there no answer?” Shandon wondered. “Surely the elves wouldn't leave their anchor unattended?”

  “I cannot say, my lord.”

  “Hello? Is anyone there?” the king called out as he glared at the black stone.

  His voice echoed around the throne room and faded into silence with no reply.

  “I don't like it,” Shandon exclaimed with a scowl. “There's something wrong. Larin, do you know how to use this thing to send people through?”

  “Certainly, my lord,” the mage replied, looking confused. “It's easy enough. But surely you don't mean to...”

  The king ignored him as he spun around to look at the cluster of guards at the main doors.

  “All of you, to me!” he barked.

  The phalanx of warriors immediately trotted across the wide hall toward Shandon. Meanwhile, the king hurried over to the dais and ran up the steps to his throne. Leaning against one arm of the tall seat was his new greatsword, the hilt glowing with power.

  He grabbed the scabbard and turned around to run back to the anchor.

  “My lord, you are only wearing your ceremonial breastplate,” Larin objected. “At least go to your chambers and put on more suitable armor.”

  “No time. Get that damned thing open,” Shandon told him. “Now!”

  “As you wish, my lord.”

  Larin put his palm on the pillar and stared deeply into its shining black surface.

  “Caladur,” he muttered.

  An oval of deep blue light began to coalesce next to the anchor. It flickered and flashed and the floor beneath the dwarves rumbled.

  A moment later, the portal had stabilized and Shandon nodded at the mage.

  “Well done. Will you wait here for us to return or...?”

  “I will come with you, my lord,” Larin stated firmly.

  The king smiled at him.

  “Excellent. I was hoping you would.”

  He turned to face the guards.

  “There may be a problem in the elven town of Caladur. If so, they might need our help. Be prepared to defend yourselves.”

  “My lord, with all due respect, we are always prepared,” the ranking officer, a lieutenant, said proudly.

  Her fellow warriors banged their fists on their chests and Shandon nodded at them.

  “I know you are. Now, follow me!”

  Holding his sheathed greatsword in one hand, the king leaped through the shimmering portal, followed closely by the twelve guardsmen.

 

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