The Phoenix Ring(70)

“I don’t think Malcommer ever meant for the dragons to be successful in their conquest. After all, they played a key element in his first defeat. Instead, I think that his hopes are for the dragons to destroy themselves and at the same time kill as many dwelling in Sortiledge as possible, after which he will invade our lands himself. And Rickentoh has unwittingly fallen into his trap.

“While I was gone, I managed to find a young rider who agreed to spy on his kin, given that he would remain anonymous. He has confirmed that Rickentoh and the dragons are attacking Sortiledge in three days time, starting with Gurvinite.”

It took a moment for Aidan to fully realize what Bartemus had said.

“But… where is the army?” Aidan asked, his pulse starting to rise.

“The dwarves are the only race with a standing army, and it will take them far too long to mobilize, though I have sent word. The Rangers are too few in number and otherwise occupied preparing for Malcommer, as are the amoghs. The other sorcerers have been alerted, but they are for the most part untrained in the art of battle, and too far away to be relied upon.”

“Then who is left?” Aidan said, the adrenaline slowly picking up speed.

Bartemus said nothing, but looked at the ground.

Suddenly, Aidan realized what the warlock had been hinting. “Us. We’re the only ones.”

His master nodded slowly. For a moment, neither said a word as the elder let the younger understand the gravity of their situation.

“That’s why you told me to come here, isn’t it?” Aidan asked. “You want us to fight an army.”

Bartemus sighed. “It’s not quite an army. I doubt more than two hundred dragons will be in fighting condition.”

Aidan felt surprisingly calm. “So they only outnumber us a hundred to one.”

Again, grim silence enveloped the island for a few moments.

“But why,” the boy said. “There isn’t anything I can do.”

“There is always something you can do,” Bartemus said. “Aidan, I once told you that you that you had no choice, that it was your duty to protect Sortiledge, but what I am about to propose to you is more suicide than a true battle plan. If you choose to leave now, I will not blame you or try to stop you.”

For a moment, Aidan considered it. He could go home, forgive his mother, and fly the griffin across the ocean to the south of Sortiledge, and eventually make their home in the mysterious lands there.

But what about everyone else? Aidan thought. Timothy, Eleanor, his master, they would all fight or die trying. And Aaliyah. For some reason, the thought of losing her hurt the most.

“I’m staying,” Aidan said, his hand unconsciously slipping to the button on his staff.

Bartemus smiled. “I knew you would. Go make yourself at home inside the cabin. You have a lot to learn.”





Aaliyah sat up suddenly, her lungs expanding to full capacity.

“Hello, amogh,” a voice said.

The girl instinctively reached for her knife before her eyes were even open. She was greeted by a smiling female elf. “I’m glad you are awake, child. Your griffin is waiting outside. The Firebird needs you.”





Bartemus and Aidan sat on top of the hill on the isle, the older with a young seabird cupped in his hand. Its wing was broken from falling out of the tree where it had been born.

“The spell I am about to teach you is normally not taught to sorcerers until they are wizards, if at all. However, you may have need of it in the coming battle. Open your hand. The word is nergaldok.”

Aidan smiled. He assumed that it was a complicated healing spell, something he desperately wanted to learn. Timothy would be jealous.

The word felt strange, almost unsettling, as he uttered it, and a small white light appeared in his palm.

“Crush the light,” his master said.

Aidan’s forehead creased. Something felt wrong, dark.

“Quickly, Aidan. All at once.” the boy obediently smashed his hand into a fist.

Suddenly, his vision disappeared, replaced by strange, new sight, with colors that couldn’t exist. He saw himself hatching from an egg, eating every day as his mother brought him the remnants of her chewed up food. He saw his wings grow feathers, strong, magnificent feathers. He felt himself leap from the nest for the first time, only to be struck from the sky by a blast of strange power. He watched as a human chick stole his life source from him and crushed it. Then he felt his small, fragile heart stop.

Aidan’s consciousness snapped back to his own body, which began to gasp for air.

“What was that?” Aidan asked as he stood, his staff forgotten on the ground.

Bartemus raised the bird, or its body, for Aidan to see. The mage reached out a shaky hand to gently stroke its still feathers.