Beyond The Vale Read online

  “Wait here,” said Bane.

  He started toward the far right corner where the hatch leading below, according to their information, should be situated. Felicity was at his side before he’d made it more than five yards.

  “I said wait,” he snapped.

  “And I promised Clara I wouldn’t leave your side,” she countered. This drew a smile that he quickly banished. “Then stay behind me.”

  The hatch was precisely where they had been told it would be. It was far too heavy to lift, though, and without power, the automatic system would not function even had they the codes to unlock it. Bane clasped his hands together for a long moment, a white light pulsing seemingly from his flesh. He reached down and touched the metal. Crystals formed on the surface, crackling

  and snapping until a thin layer of ice covered it entirely. His body ached from the effort as he channeled enormous amounts of mana, even more than he’d used with the hellfire. Staggering back, he grunted as his muscles twitched and flexed involuntarily. Then after taking a moment to recover, he cast a short burst of mana at the door’s lip. With a loud crack, it split down the center and the two halves separated. There was a high-pitched shriek as they slid through the opening, and the floor shook as they tumbled down a flight of concrete stairs to the floor below.

  Bane had not exerted himself this way since he was a novice at the College. Most spells took very little effort, even the lethal ones. Breaking apart an inch of solid steel and creating hellfire…that was another matter.

  A memory of his youth brought a self-deprecating chuckle. “What is it?” asked Felicity.

  He bent down, hands pressed to his knees. “I used to tease the professors about being old and out of shape. Look at me now.”

  “You’re not old,” she said, her mouth twisting into a scolding frown.

  “No. But definitely out of shape.” After a few deep breaths he righted himself and approached the opening. “Cover your eyes.”

  Felicity did as instructed. Bane cast a tiny ball of light that drifted down to the lower level. He turned away, and a few seconds later there was a deep thud, and a flash of light beamed up through the opening, striking the ceiling. He raced down the stairs, ready to attack, Felicity on his heels.

  A cold chill gripped the pit of his stomach. Felicity gasped, her hand grabbing his shoulder. The hellspawn tanks were just as they should be: hundreds upon hundreds, in tight rows that filled the entire lower level.

  “They’re empty,” whispered Felicity. “Why are they empty?”

  Bane did not want to say aloud what he knew to be the answer. He walked the length and breadth of the facility, peering between the rows, hoping to see what he knew he would not. They were gone. All of them. Which could only mean one of two things: one, they had been misled, and the hellspawn were being grown elsewhere; or two, they were too late. Either spelled disaster; for Exodus and for Vale.

  “We need to go,” said Bane.

  Back at the ground floor, the rest of the team were looking anxious. Bane motioned for them to exit the building, ignoring their questions about what had happened. Before they reached the door, however, a soft hiss descended from the ceiling. For a terrible moment Bane was sure they had fallen into a trap, but then the staticky crackle of a loudspeaker and the clearing of a throat said otherwise.

  “Welcome, worthy foes.” The voice was coming from a speaker mounted on the ceiling above the door. “For those who may not recognize my voice, I am King Salazar. I congratulate you for your courage and determination. Were I a lesser man, I am sure your plan would have succeeded. Unfortunately for you, I am not as blind as my dear father. And given how long you have evaded attempts at finding you, I counted on you having the ability to uncover my facilities.

  Bane’s lip curled in fury. The others were shifting nervously, their eyes fixed on the speaker.

  “If only my royal guard were as resourceful! But alas, the task fell to me to see that my plans were not interrupted. By now you must have realized that your efforts were pointless. This facility has been abandoned for nearly a year. As have the other three. Soon the hellspawn will be unleashed and the provinces cleansed. And there is nothing you can do to stop it.

  “I understand that you must be…disappointed. But I only do this for the survival of Vale. I do not expect you to understand. If my sister is among you, tell her that I regret that things turned out as they have. I wanted her here by my side. As for Drake…sadly he will never know the pain I feel at losing him. Tell him I think of our childhood days often, and that he will be remembered.”

  There was a pause and rustling of papers.

  “Now, then. You still have time should you want to spend your final hours with those you love. The royal guards you encountered here were traitors, and the only ones dispatched to the provinces. And all magistrate officers have been called back as well. So no one will hinder you. It is over. I have won. Do not waste what precious little time you have left. So my advice to you is this: Run. Now.”

  Bane shut his eyes, hands clenched. “What do we do?” asked Felicity.

  Bane did not answer for several seconds. His fury was to the point of madness. When Felicity touched his arm, he opened his eyes and cast her a sideways grimace. “We do what he told us to do. Run.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Linx had not been to Antwerp since Drake and Salazar had left her there the day they snuck back into Troi. She remembered thinking how nice it would be to return and spend some time wandering the trails and enjoying the fresh air and solitude. Now, all she wanted was to get away. But where else was there to go?

  The train was packed to capacity. Had the situation not been so dire, she would have relished the thought of all those upper Troi nobles crammed in together, forced to travel like the common people. Their complaints were unceasing. Several had outright refused to board. But a stern look from Salazar, along with the implied threat from the twenty royal guards, was enough to cow them into compliance.

  She glanced back. A few had been glaring hatefully at Salazar, but quickly looked away when they saw Linx noticing them.

  “Not a happy group,” remarked Salazar, amused. “No, Your Highness. They’re not.”

  “You don’t look happy either.” “Should I be?”

  Salazar placed his hand on hers and gave her a warm smile. “I know how you must feel. But there is nothing else to be done. The people of Vale must endure. Be strong; for me and for them. You have it in you to do great things. That is why I chose you. And why I forgive you now for your uncertainty.”

  Linx lowered her head. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

  “You no longer need to call me that. Soon my reign as King of Vale will come to an end.

  We can live as equals.”

  Linx nodded, silently. “Your Highness?”

  A young man, about twenty years of age, dressed in his finest silks and with his hair oiled and combed back, was standing in the aisle, hands folded and doing his best to look confident. Linx could not recall his name.

  “What is it?” said Salazar, barely glancing over. “I…well, we were wondering what this is all about.”

  “Did you not pay attention to what my advisor here said when she delivered the message?” “Yes, Your Highness. But it was a bit vague. And to drag us out here to the provinces –

  and in a train, no less.”

  “Are you so delicate you cannot bear a brief train ride?”

  “Yes…I mean no, Your Highness. I am not delicate. But there are those among us who have never been outside of upper Troi.”

  “And your point is?”

  “Just that there are no refreshments. And we were forced to leave our servants behind.”

  Salazar’s expression hardened, though he did not look up. “As you can see, I too am without servants… or refreshment.” His hands drifted to his scepter leaning against the window. “So did you come to complain? Or have you a remedy you would like to propose?”

  “I only
wished to convey the sentiment among us.”

  Linx could tell Salazar was about to erupt. She’d seen this look in his eyes before. “I think you should go back to your seat,” she said, in a level tone.

  The man stiffened. “Who are you to order me? I’ll have you know that I am –”

  “Are you deaf?” the king interjected. “Or stupid? Did you not hear the young lady?” “Your Highness, I must protest. She is a commoner. What right does she have to speak to

  me thusly?”

  “Linx,” said Salazar, affecting a smile. “If he says one more word, you have my permission to take your weapon and shoot him.”

  The man took a step back, eyes wide in open-mouthed bewilderment. Threats between nobles were never direct. For the king to give permission to a commoner to shoot a noble was beyond comprehension. But clearly the man was not willing to test whether Salazar was serious, and with a sharp bow, he spun on his heels and returned to his seat.

  “Fool. You would think I had them riding in the back of a truck.” He waved over a guard who was standing in the aisle a few feet away. “Call ahead and cancel the transportation. I think we’ll walk once we arrive.”

  Without hesitation, the guard saluted and strode away at a quick pace.

  Salazar grinned over at Linx. “Now that should be fun to watch, don’t you think?” Linx returned a weak smile. “Yes. It should be.”

  Under normal circumstances, she would have genuinely enjoyed watching every noble in Troi stumble along the rugged trails in their finest attire, swatting at flies and whining that they should not be subjected to such harsh treatment. As if walking a trail was harsh. But these were anything but normal circumstances, and she could take no joy in their displeasure, no matter how wretched she thought them to be.

  Linx did her best to relax. It was only midday, and it would be many hours before she could rest. But her mind was troubled. Closing her eyes brought on terrible images of things to come – things she had been and would be a part of.

  Behind she could hear the whispers of the nobles; no doubt plotting and scheming to rid themselves of this brutal ruler, yet too cowardly to act. She’d heard the rumors almost from the day she enlisted into the king’s service: how the noble families were poised to strike. No one believed that Salazar had nothing to do with the death of King Nedar, his own father. Had Xavier decided to expose him, she doubted anything would have come of it. This might have been different before he took the throne. King Nedar had believed the crown to be a symbol of service to the people. The nobles knew that a man of conscience would not attempt to rule with impunity. It emboldened them. But Salazar had shown them who they really were. He acted decisively and ruthlessly, not hesitating to resort to brutality, and the nobles had no idea how to respond. Fear was practically unknown to them. When faced with the choice of compliance or possible death, they chose to submit.

  Salazar had known this would be the outcome. He saw straight through their façade. In this one way, he was superior to his father: he easily recognized their weakness. He knew they would not stand up to him, and he took advantage of it. Not even the high mages would oppose him now, though knowing what he intended.

  The horrified expression on the Grand Mage’s face when Salazar explained to her that rather than orchestrate a controlled release of the hellspawn, he intended to release thousands of them at once, was burned into Linx’s memory. But one twinkle of a glow from Salazar’s scepter was more than enough to silence any objections. He hadn’t even bothered to tell her that he knew

  about the plot to kill him. It was inconsequential. She would do as she was told, and that was what mattered.

  “Most people only think they have courage,” he had told her, after the meeting. “Threaten to roast them alive and you see them for the sniveling wretches they are.”

  The train began to slow. It was nearly time. Linx felt nauseous for a brief moment, and saliva filled her mouth. She was a coward too. She hated Salazar for revealing this, but she hated herself even more.

  The wheels shrieked as the lights in the car gradually brightened, alerting the passengers that their destination was close. As they came to a halt, Salazar stood and turned to the rear.

  “I know that you are all weary. But you will soon be able to rest, I assure you.”

  “We are quite hungry, Your Highness,” said an older man, who was rubbing and twisting the soreness from his neck.

  Salazar smiled. “There will be a feast. You only need go a little further.”

  “This had better be worth it,” the man muttered, just loud enough to be heard.

  The doors opened, and Linx followed Salazar out. Twenty royal guards were standing at attention along the platform, four of whom stepped forward and flanked the king and Linx. The nobles paused nearly in unison as they saw this obvious display of power, whispering and casting suspicious looks at Salazar.

  “Come, my friends,” called the king, throwing his arms wide, scepter in his right hand, his voice reverberating from the walls. “This way.”

  They ascended the stairs leading to the parking lot, the royal guards falling in on either side of the procession. Once outside, what had begun as quiet dissatisfaction became outright disorder when it was clear there were no vehicles waiting for them.

  “Are you suggesting we walk?’ complained the same older man from the train. “You cannot be serious.”

  “If you would like, you can wait for us in the lot,” said Salazar. “But for now, the train is strictly off limits.” He pointed to the small shop near the entrance. “I think they might have a bench inside.”

  The man puffed up. “Are you saying I am not permitted to leave?”

  “No. I am saying you cannot get back on the train. So either come along or stay here. But do shut your mouth.”

  The man blinked hard, but said nothing.

  The line slowly moved on until reaching the rear of the lot, where a footpath followed a gentle slope disappearing a hundred yards ahead into the tree line. While the king had no problem keeping his balance, having worn a pair of boots well-suited for walking on uneven ground, many of the nobles stumbled about awkwardly, gripping one another for support. Linx guessed that aside from the garden in upper Troi, this was their first experience walking on anything other than flat tiles. The sight bordered on comical and served to increase their frustration and anger – this made plain by the muttered curses and furious stares cast at Salazar.

  The king ignored them entirely, a tiny smile barely visible on his lips. Once within the forest, the trail, only wide enough for two people to walk abreast, became even more difficult to contend with.

  For nearly an hour, they trudged up and down hills and across a rickety bridge that spanned a brook, where a few of the more weary men and women, no longer caring about appearances, paused for a handful of water.

  A few times, someone built up the nerve to complain and ask how much further, but Salazar quickly and harshly silenced them.

  Linx leaned in close to Salazar. “I think you should be a touch kinder, considering.”

  Salazar laughed. “At least you are willing to speak to me plainly. And you are right, of course. I have been cruel. But I think you will approve once we arrive.”

  They had gone nearly two miles when they exited the trees and crested a grassy hilltop. Below was an enormous metal building, at least three hundred feet in width and many times that in length.

  Hundreds of tables were set just in front, and a dozen tents were erected to the right, from which the scent of spices and cooked meat rose up to greet them.

  Salazar spun around to face the nobles. “As I promised – a feast. Prepared by the finest cooks my kitchen has to offer.”

  “Please tell me you didn’t drag us out here for a meal, Your Highness,” grumbled a middle- aged woman, as she bent to dislodge a stick from the heel of her shoe.

  “Not at all. But as you have been so kind to endure such a difficult journey at my request, I thought I would show
my gratitude. And my love for you all.”

  As they moved down the hill, a bell sounded and servants poured from the tents, showing each of the nobles to their table when they reached the bottom. Salazar and Linx sat near the building’s two massive doors.

  In short order, wine was brought, and the feast began. The nobles were uneasy for a time, still disgruntled about the ordeal. But as their bellies filled and the wine was drunk, their spirits lifted. Within an hour, laughter and light conversation replace the earlier moans and complaints.

  “Did you bring her?” asked Salazar.

  “Of course,” Linx replied. She had only picked at her food and had hardly touched the

  wine.

  This did not go unnoticed. “I know this is difficult . But be strong. You…we can get through this.” He lifted his glass.

  Linx did the same and touched it to the king’s, then took a small sip. “Yes. We will get through this.”

  The feast lasted until the sun was low in the sky. Salazar waited until the tables were clear before rising from his seat and addressing the assembly.

  “I hope this has in some small way made up for the inconvenience you have suffered.” The murmurs of acceptance were only half-hearted.

  “It is almost night, Your Highness,” called a nobleman from a nearby table. “Surely we will not be forced to walk back in the dark.”

  “No, my lord. You will not need to walk back.”