Obsidian Ridge

Chapter Thirty-one

Kleegor handed another crate full of Elixir to Talish and walked down to the end of the dock.

"Good to see you back up and around," said Talish. Kleegor nodded.

"I take it you don't want to talk about it." The half-orc grunted.

"Well, I told you not to throw it in her face. I told you I agreed with you, but you should've just-" Suddenly, the sky began to roil.

"Whoa, will you look at that." Talish pointed over Kleegor's shoulder.

The half-ore nearly dropped his crate of Elixir.

Huge gray clouds swept in from the east over Shalane Lake and the west over the Snowflake Mountains. The wind picked up, and the clouds coalesced over Llorbauth and the Obsidian Ridge. They swirled together, forming one massive, turning storm that blocked out the mid-morning sun.

The storm moved faster and faster, and its center stretched but like a long finger-a funnel of twisting air reaching for the ground. Where it touched, high up on the wall of the valley, the ground simply dried up. The grass, flowers, and trees instantly turned brown, shriveled, and died.

Bolts of lightning shot from the clouds. Where they hit, the dirt turned to sand, the stone crumbled and cracked, the puddles and streams evaporated. A tremendous clap of thunder shook the dock under Kleegor's feet.

"What's happening?" Talish had his hands pressed against the side of his head, shaking it in amazement.

"I'll tell you what's going on," said a voice. "The king has betrayed us."

Kleegor looked down from the building storm into the face of the Matron.

"My lady," said the half-orc, falling to his knees and dropping his head to the splinter-torn wharf.

The Matron approached the half-ore and the dark-skinned man.

"On your feet, Kleegor. You do not need to bow to me."

He did as he was told, getting back to his feet.

The Matron put her finger under his chin, lifting his eyes to meet hers. "I have come here, Kleegor, to give you my apology."

"I do not understand."

"You were right." The matron waved her arm back at the slowly growing storm as it continued to devour Llorbauth, turning the fertile land of the valley into little more than a desert. "We never should have trusted the king to do the right thing. His blind affection and shortsightedness may end up being our undoing. I should have listened to you, and now we have to make it tight."

The half-ore stood up straight. He puffed his chest out, feeling some of his previous courage returning.

"And how do we do that?"

"The king's betrayal has brought this destruction upon us. I had hoped to avoid it, but he leaves us little choice." She turned to look one more time at the valley being transformed into a barren wasteland. "King Korox must die. The palace must fall. Prepare your assassins, Kleegor. We take Llorbauth by force."

The walls hummed. The floor moved, and a low buzz filled the air, washing out the sounds of footsteps and doors opening.

Slipping out of the wall, Quinn perched himself behind a jagged chunk of obsidian. Settling in, he melted into the blackness, blending in and disappearing from view.

Below him, Xeries sat, drinking from a goblet. The deformed arch magus slumped in his throne-or at least the way his bulbous spine curved over on itself made him look as if he were slumping.

There was no sign of Mariko or Evelyne. But that didn't matter right now. Quinn would find them-all in good time.

For now, the only thing he wanted was a clear shot at the ruler of the Obsidian Ridge. «

Quietly, he lowered himself to the next perch, then the next. The buzzing coveted his tracks, and he reached the floor very quickly. Staying close to the wall, he circled. When he was fully behind the throne, he approached, slowly, carefully, until he was crouched right behind Xeries.

He paused to relish this moment, something Quinn had never done before. Up until now, killing in the name of Erlkazar was something he had done out of loyalty and honor. It was his job, and one that he took no great pleasure in.

But he was going to enjoy this.

Lifting his left hand high in the air, he swung with all of his might.

He shouted-uncontrolled rage spilling out as he came down on Xeries's twisted body.

His blades slipped through the arch magus's hunched back, viciously slashing off a huge hunk of flesh. Blood and pus shot from the wound, and Quinn's gauntlet carried on, slamming into the throne. So fueled by anger and hate was this attack that his blades buried themselves in the thick obsidian and plowed right on through.

The throne shook like it had been hit by a sledgehammer.

Chips of stone rattled to the floor, mixed with bits of flesh and trails of blood.

Xeries screamed, his yowls of pain echoing again in the confined chamber. The arch magus rolled forward and turned to face his attacker.

Quinn circled the throne, his long sword in his right hand. "I am here to collect on your sins, Xeries," he said, closing the distance.

Xeries's eyes were wide, and his breathing heavy, labored. He backed away, limping and crouched over. "Do not come any closer. I'm warning you." Despite the echo of his voice, he sounded panicked.

"Are you afraid, Xeries? Do I frighten you?" Quinn made a sudden jerking move forward, taunting his prey.

Xeries jolted back, startled.

"You are wise to be afraid." Pulling the blade of his sword closer to his chest, Quinn threw his body forward into a tumbling roll.

Xeries scrambled backward, trying to get out of the way.

Quinn unfurled in front of him, coming out of his roll with a leap, flying at the arch magus with his long sword cocked over his head. The blade came down, and Xeries ducked, but not before Quinn cleaved another huge chunk of the hump from his back.

The lord of the Obsidian Ridge let out a second painful wail as another piece of his decrepit, deformed body fell to the floor.

The doors to throne room burst open, and a flood of Xeries's brutes charged in. They washed over the floor like a huge toxic wave, sloshing up and over the dais, covering the broken throne as if it were a rock caught in the surf.

Unable to take on so many in such a large space, Quinn was pushed back. Reaching the wall, he scaled the jagged stone in three huge bounds.

"I'll come for you again, Xeries." And with that, he slipped into his shortcut, disappearing from view.

Arch Magus Xeries retreated into the private chamber off of his throne room. His wife lay motionless on the slab. Princess Mariko stood beside the coffins, examining his previous wives. She turned around when he entered.

"Looks like you've had a run-in with Quinn," said the mimmio.

"Is that what you call that disease?" spat Xeries, his echoed voice dripping with venom.

He trailed blood and pus behind him as he limped. It tan down his back and off his legs, and he could feel the squish of each footstep as he went. Reaching a cabinet near the slab table, he retrieved an alabaster globe and quickly pulled the top off of it. "

Inside was a smooth opalescent salve, which he scooped up in his fingers and smeared on his back-the remnants of his hump. The burning throb that had spread across his flesh was cooled, and he could feel the skin on his back tighten as it knitted back together.

His hunched-over frame would forever be scared from the wounds he had taken, but at least that madman had not managed to kill him.

Returning the globe to its place, Xeries snapped his fingers. "Come to me, my pets," he said.

A silvery portal opened in the wall, next to the coffins of his discarded wives, and through it stepped his most trusted minions. These were his assassins, the smartest, most deadly of all his creations. Over the last hundred years, he had created only a half a dozen. One he had sent to its death as a message to King Korox. The other five now stood before him.

Smaller than his regular soldiers, they would be able to fit into the tight spaces this man was using to travel through the citadel.

"Find the man called Quinn. Kill him and return here with his remains."