Savage Messiah

CHAPTER III

Faegan's words echoed in tristan's ears as he ran down the hallways of the Redoubt. He skidded to a stop before the first of the several secret passageways leading to the palace above. Scrabbling at the special section of marble wall, he pulled hard, rotating it on its pivot. It opened to reveal a rough-hewn stone staircase. His weapons still in his hands, he charged up two steps at a time.

His chest was heaving when he reached the top of the steps and strapped on the baldric holding his dreggan and the quiver holding his throwing knives. Then he drew the sword, its unmistakable ring echoing in the confines of the stairway.

He held the point of the dreggan high and placed the cool, flat side of its blade against his forehead. Closing his eyes, he tried to calm his mind in anticipation of whatever might await him on the other side of the door.

When he was ready, Tristan pushed hard on the section of wall. It swiveled open easily, and he charged through the open doorway. The room on the other side was empty.

He had come up into the Chamber of Supplication, one of the many elaborate halls his late father and the Directorate of Wizards had employed in their dealings with the citizenry. The elaborate room yawned back at the prince, as if mocking him for his foolishness. Then he heard an unfamiliar noise.

At first he couldn't make it out as it wafted eerily through stained glass windows. Tristan ran to one of the windows, pushed it open wide, and climbed through to the courtyard beyond.

Complete pandemonium reigned. The courtyard overflowed with a crushing mass of burned and wounded citizens, their cries soaring toward the heavens. Men, women, and children had already forced their way onto the palace grounds, and still more were massed in the streets beyond the drawbridge. Some of Tristan's Minion warriors were attempting to hold back the throng, but as gently as they could so as not to further harm the wounded. But the palace warriors were too few, and the crowd too large and too determined to reach sanctuary.

Tristan watched helplessly as his people died before his very eyes. Then two dark shadows crossed the grass, and the Minions Traax and Ox landed next to him.

Frantically, Tristan grabbed Traax by the shoulders. "Shailiha, Celeste, and Abbey!" he shouted, trying to make himself heard above the crowd. "Where are they? Are they safe?"

Nodding, Traax pointed to a far corner of the courtyard.

Tristan could just make out the three of them. Protected by a wide ring of Minion warriors, they were tearing bedsheets into strips and bandaging the victims as best they could.

"The warriors have strict orders to fly them to safety, should it come to that," Traax shouted to Tristan. "I tried to convince them of the danger, but none of them would leave."

Tristan looked over at Ox. He had rarely seen so much emotion upon a Minion warrior's face.

"It happen so fast!" the huge warrior said. "Wizard Faegan see first boy come through. He be burned bad. Faegan see him as he crawl across yard, and he lift chair and take him into palace. But he not see others come. Me now think neither wizard know how bad this be."

"Yes, we do," Tristan heard the familiar voice say.

Turning, the prince found Wigg standing beside him and Faegan sitting close by. Both wizards had tears in their eyes.

"The boy you tended to in the Redoubt?" Tristan asked.

All Wigg could do was shake his head.

Faegan raised his hands toward the burgeoning crowd. Tristan wondered what the crippled wizard was about to do.

Azure bolts shot from Faegan's hands toward the drawbridge, where they spread to create a glowing wall that sealed the castle entrance. When he lowered his hands, the bolts ceased. The crowd inside the palace grounds quieted. Many looked up in wonder, having beheld the majesty of the craft for the first time. Tristan turned back to Wigg.

"What has happened?" he asked.

His face dark with concern, Wigg looked at Tristan directly. "Faegan and I fear it is our greatest nightmare," he said softly. "If we're right, no power on earth may be able to stop it."

The wizard laid one hand gently upon Tristan's shoulder. "You and I must leave here immediately," he said.

Stunned, Tristan searched Wigg's face. "Are you mad?" he shot back. "Look at these people-can't you see they need our help? How can we possibly leave them?"

Faegan wheeled his chair a bit closer. His expression was as determined as Wigg's.

"Wigg is right," he said. "You and the First Wizard must depart now. There is no time to lose."

"But why?" Tristan asked.

"We have to know what we're dealing with," Wigg answered. "We must ascertain how much damage it has already done and where it is headed next. Faegan will stay behind to direct the aid efforts with the acolytes and Minion healers. But right now, you must call for a Minion litter, and a group of warriors to fly guard alongside!" The wizard's aquamarine eyes flashed.

"While we waste time arguing, I fear thousands more may be dying!" he added sternly. "Your nation needs you now as never before, and you must help her!"

Tristan looked across the courtyard toward Shailiha, Abbey, and Celeste. Blessedly, their situation seemed less dangerous now. The warriors were allowing more victims inside the circle, but only as the three women could accommodate them. Tristan reluctantly turned to Traax and nodded.

The Minion second in command was gone in a flash. In mere moments he returned with a litter borne by six warriors, as well as an additional fifty warriors to fly guard. Wigg quickly climbed aboard, anxiously gesturing to Tristan to join him.

With one last look at the horrible scene, Tristan stepped in and took the seat next to the First Wizard. He closed his eyes.

Traax barked out the order, and the litter rose into the sky.