Victor of Tucson-Chapter 33Book 12: : Return
33 – Return
Victor’s meeting with the delegation from Fanwath was really more of a celebration. He was happy to see Lam, Edeya, Rellia, Olivia, and many others. Morgan, Issa, and their children were certainly fast becoming good friends. Things started off more seriously than he would have wanted; Cora had arranged for him to greet everyone in the Small Hall—a chamber in his palace at Iron Mountain, which was anything but small, even to him.
It was a grand, cathedral-ceilinged chamber with a table made to seat a hundred or more. Worse, his seat at that table looked more like a throne than a chair. He knew it was called the “Small Hall” because of that table and the lack of seating for the public, unlike the Grand Hall, which was only a little larger but configured more like a throne room.
Of course, Victor had seen both spaces over the years, but he’d only ever been in either when they were filled with the Duchy’s nobility and petitioners; he felt a little silly when he walked in to see only a dozen people seated at the table up near his massive chair.
That being said, he kept that part of the proceedings short, simply reviewing the news of his victory over Vesavo, the changes in the Sojourn City Council, and how its new policies would affect Fanwath. After that, he escorted everyone to his favorite parlor—one that opened onto a peaceful little courtyard, separate from the rest of the gardens and filled with strange statues of mythical creatures.
As Tes and Cora circulated, showing everyone the tables where Victor’s staff had put out a hundred different delicacies—snacks as far as Victor was concerned—Morgan pulled him aside, his huge darkly feathered wings ruffling against his fine coat. “I can’t tell you how pleased I am with this turn of events. You know I don’t have any love for those Ridonne—not after the way they’ve wriggled their way around all of our treaties, always finding a way to undermine our trade. Every time we’ve caught bandits trying to sabotage our trade routes, our mines, our agriculture—clues led back to the Ridonne.”
“Yeah,” Victor replied, wiping some sauce off his chin with a napkin, “Olivia’s told me all about that shit. She said they always had some deniability, though.”
“Right,” Morgan growled. “Well, at least they’re more open with their hostilities against the Free Marches. It gives us a reason to push the attack—as allies, I mean.”
Victor nodded. “I just wish I could join in the fun.”
Morgan chuckled. “Sounds like you have your hands full. Olivia says you’re leaving tomorrow.”
“Yeah, I am, but I want you all to stay—think of it as a vacation before things get dangerous back home. In fact, your family is welcome to stay here as long as you need.” Victor smiled as Morgan tilted his head, obviously giving the suggestion serious thought. “Visit the town and the auction hall. It doesn’t have as much available as the one on Sojourn, but the prices are better.”
Morgan rubbed his chin, narrowing one eye in thought. “I think we’ll take you up on that.”
Victor nodded, watching over the man’s shoulder as Tes picked up one of the pale blue children running around. The little girl had soft, brownish-blonde curls, and as Tes bounced her on her hip, she giggled, staring at Tes with bright, golden irises. Victor wanted to say something about how interesting it was that Morgan, a human, and Issa, an Ardeni, had even been capable of having children together, but he didn’t think he knew the man well enough. Instead, he said, “You’re lucky, Morgan.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. I think family is more valuable than any duchy or kingdom—any victory over some damn Death Casters. You’re doing something right.”
Morgan slapped his shoulder, smiling crookedly. “I’m doing a lot right if that’s how you measure success. Don’t worry, Victor. You’re young, and I don’t think you’ve any shortage of people who love you.” He was eyeing Tes, still bouncing the little girl on her hip, his eyes full of amusement.
Victor gripped his shoulder, grinning crookedly as he whispered, “You know, that woman holding your little girl—she’s a dragon.”
Morgan’s eyes widened, and his smile faded, but after a moment, it returned, and he chuckled. “Well, she seems nice, and, truth be told, she wouldn’t be the first dragon I’ve met.”
###
Later that night, alone in his chambers with Tes, Victor sipped—very carefully—some alcohol she’d brought from her homeworld of Aradnue. It was strong stuff that felt more like lava on his tongue than anything he should be drinking, but that didn’t really bother him; if it burned, he healed before he could feel it much. “You were really helpful today. I’m not good at entertaining,” he said, gently rubbing his thumb along the arch of Tes’s foot where it rested in his lap.
She opened sleepy eyes, her face pale in the moonlight shining through the open balcony. “I love entertaining.”
“Do you do much of it? When you’re back home, I mean?”
“On Aradnue? No, I fear not. Dragons are solitary creatures, and on the few occasions I visit my uncle or cousins, it’s just two or three of us together. On Demera, though, I host grand parties.”
“Demera? Is that where your Celestial Envoys are?”
“One of their chapters. It’s the world where I’ve been living most recently. I have a lovely tower in the city of Kha-rhi. You’d like it there…if only for a visit.” She sounded hesitant, a tone Victor didn’t usually associate with Tes.
“You’ve never mentioned that before—the city where you live.”
Tes smiled, yawning softly and wriggling her foot to encourage his fingers. “Perhaps I like to maintain some mystique. Now I’ve lost that. You can likely find a text about Kha-rhi in one of the libraries on Sojourn.” When Victor was quiet, just staring out toward the stars and moon as he rubbed her foot, she said, “Aren’t you going to reassure me?”
Victor arched an eyebrow. “About?”
She pulled her foot back and nudged his shoulder, jostling him. “Don’t play with me. You’ll visit, won’t you?”
“Oh!” Victor grinned, leaning forward to pick up his drink again. “Yes, Tes, I’m looking forward to seeing what it’s like, deeper into the universe where worlds and people are ancient.”
“And?” She wriggled her foot under his arm, tickling his ribs with her toes.
“And spending time with you—seeing how you live. I mean, if you’re not embarrassed—”
Suddenly, her toes felt like knives, and Tes’s eyes crackled with electricity as her draconic form slipped its soft, fleshy bonds. “Are you trying to start a fight?” she growled.
“Oh?” Victor tossed back the liquor. He grimaced briefly, then coughed out a belch of black smoke, as his eyes lit up with playful glee. “Are we going to have a wrestling match?”
As her growl turned into a giggle, he leaned into her, grappling his left hand around her knee and yanking her toward him. Unfortunately, after that, she didn’t put up much of a fight, and rather than a fun wrestling match, his efforts resulted in something more like a rough snuggle that was punctuated by kisses and sweet words whispered in each other’s ears.
Later, when they were both lying on the couch, looking out at the stars, she said, “I’m going to check on those girls for you, but then I’m coming to Dark Ember. I’ll wait with your army, but I want to be close.”
Maybe she expected an argument, but Victor didn’t see any point. He just pulled her closer to his chest and nodded, though she couldn’t see the gesture. “Sounds good to me.”
###
The next morning, when he and Cora approached the portal, he saw Lam and Edeya standing there, and he called out, “Ready?”
Edeya’s wings fluttered, sending a shower of bright blue motes of Energy drifting toward the marble floor. It was Lam who answered, though, yelling back, “We’ve been ready. You said dawn.”
Victor chuckled, nudging Cora with his elbow. “Ready to take the fall?”
This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.
“What? I don’t—”
“Cora was supposed to wake me,” Victor said, drowning out Cora’s objections.
By then, they were close enough for a conversational tone, and Edeya laughed, shaking a finger at Victor. “Really? Blaming your poor ward? As if she could wake a drunken titan!”
“Wait, how did—”
“Aha!” Edeya crowed, stepping past him to put her arm over Cora’s shoulders. “He’s too easy.”
Lam ignored them, stepping up to the portal archway and pressing her hand against the activation plate. “Let’s get to it.”
As the portal began to hum and gather Energy, Edeya asked, “Did they move the anchor stone to the new citadel?”
Victor nodded. “Arona did it yesterday.”
The portal crackled to life, rippling with the strange and powerful void-attuned Energy with which it was created. Victor could remember taking Empress Kynna’s personal Spatial Magus, Florent, on a trip through System Stones to plant the anchor on Dark Ember like it was yesterday. He thought it was strange how some memories were so vivid and others like dreams glimpsed through mist. Sighing, he put a hand on Cora’s shoulders and said, “We’ll go first.”
She balked a little—the portal was likely formidable to her, what with its incredible Energy load and violent-seeming aperture—but only for a moment. She nodded and stepped through with him, and the pull of the void embraced them. It was a much more substantial transit than anyone would experience traveling in local Sojourn-space. Still, Victor had been through it many times, and when it ended, he stepped out into a cold, granite-lined vault, large enough to hold thousands of giants standing in ranks.
He narrowed his eyes, noting the many runes inscribed into the dark stone walls, ceiling, and floor. He recognized them for what they were: shielding and strengthening enchantments. His engineers had ensured that their gateway off Dark Ember was secure.
“What is this place?” Cora asked, looking around the vast, dark hall. As she spoke, the others came through with similar questions on their lips.
“We’re under the citadel—deep in the bedrock,” he said. Then he pointed toward a faintly illuminated archway. “There’s the exit.”
“Why no guards?” Lam asked, frowning.
Before Victor could speculate, the air shimmered, and a beam of brilliant solar Energy threw the massive chamber into stark daylight for a split second. As the light faded, Arona smiled at them, suddenly standing in their midst. “No need for guards—the wards in this place will alert me and the other commanders if so much as a fly’s wings disturb the air.”
Cora peeled her hands away from her eyes, peering out to ensure the brilliant light was gone. “Did you teleport, Lady Arona?”
Arona grinned. “Aye. I set an anchor here.” She tapped the marble at her feet, and Victor saw the small circle of runes there, still softly glowing with her solar Energy. She gestured toward the exit. “Shall we have a tour? There’s much work left to be done, but I think you’ll be pleased.”
Victor and the others followed her out of the vault-like depths of the citadel, up stone steps built for giants and human-size people alike—two separate sets of treads—that were broad enough for dozens to traverse at once. “We took your request to heart, Victor,” Arona said, her tone casual in their small party. “You said to make the gateway safe and easy for the defenders of the citadel to access. With that in mind, we’ve ensured there aren’t any bottlenecks. This great stairwell opens onto the north end of the citadel’s great hall, secured behind amber-ore gates. You’ll see.”
She was right. After climbing out of the depths, they entered another vast hall, this one illuminated brightly with plaster walls and polished black-marble floors, but still looking very much “under-construction” thanks to the piles of materials along the walls, and the canvas walkways protecting the marble from the footsteps and activities of soldiers-turned construction workers.
Victor immediately saw the gates she’d mentioned—enormous things, even by his standards. They were forty feet high, and just as broad, though it was their thickness that drew his attention—easily ten feet of solid amber ore. “They’re enchanted, too,” he muttered, and Arona laughed, nodding.
“Of course! Why choose amber ore if not for its ability to hold vast quantities of Energy? All who take shelter behind those gates will be safe as they descend to the portal gateway.”
“You got the ore from Iron Mountain?”
Arona nodded. “As you said, we could. It seems a great quantity, but it barely scratched the surface of that wall.”
“The one we saw?” Cora asked.
Victor nodded. “They took it while you and I were on Sojourn.”
“I’m lost,” Edeya said.
Lam nodded. “It doesn’t matter. They’re just talking about where that damned fortune in ore came from.” She laughed and looked at Victor. “Remember that stash of amber ore you found in Greatbone Mine? You and Thayla secured my wealth with that find—enough to buy my way into the nobility.”
Victor closed his eyes, his mind drifting back to that desperate time. “Yeah, I remember. It feels like a million years ago.” He started walking, following Arona, and Lam moved closer to him to continue the conversation.
“Did you see Thayla on this trip?”
“Yes. Spent a lot of time with her, actually.”
“Well, that’s good. I’ll have to pay her a visit soon—reminisce about the old days.”
“She’d like that. You could give her some advice on her Spirit Core; she doesn’t take guidance from me very well.” Victor chuckled, remembering how frustrated he’d made her the last time she’d brought the topic up.
“That’s because she has a contentious relationship with herself where you’re concerned.” Lam looked at Cora and Tes and the fast-approaching slice of daylight through the citadel’s grand front doors and shook her head. “That’s a conversation for another day, though.” After another sideways glance at Victor, she added, “And one I should have with her. You’ve got enough on your plate.”
Victor chuckled. “I appreciate that.”
As they approached the massive metal-strapped wooden doors, Arona paused and gestured to them. “These, and most of the wood used in this citadel, were taken from the fallen World Tree. Our enchanters say it’s the most Energy-dense wood they’ve come across.” She smiled as some soldiers pulled the left-hand door wider, revealing the central courtyard, surrounded by high, dark stone walls. Before they stepped out, Arona added, “I think you’ll be pleased to know that we found several huge nuts buried in the soil near the roots of the World Tree. Duke Levoss from Ruhn, a Greenwarden, managed to get one to take root here in the courtyard.”
Victor had heard the name, but he’d only met the man once; he was a captain in Lesh’s legion. As they stepped outside, his eyes fell on the sapling, and his breath caught in his chest. Its trunk was silver with tiny azure veins in the bark, and its delicate leaves were also silver and blue. It shone with vibrant Energy, and the sense of well-being he felt when his eyes fell on it almost brought tears to his eyes.
“Thank the Roots!” Edeya cried. She glanced at Victor and the others, her eyes full of tears. “I mean, that you were able to find a seed.” Her wings hummed, and she launched herself into the air, streaming toward the little tree. Lam was close behind her.
Victor looked at Arona and shrugged. “The Ghelli are very fond of trees.” He inhaled deeply, sighing happily. “I’m glad you found the seed, too.”
“Don’t give me any of the credit. I had people digging for Dragomir’s treasure—not seeds. Still, I’m happy, too. I’ve been giving it extra light when I’m not busy.”
Victor looked at Cora. Her eyes were tearing up, too. “What are you thinking?”
“I don’t know. I just see that tree and I feel happy. I don’t even know what it is!” She laughed, her cheeks blushing as she wiped her eyes on her sleeve.
Victor clicked his tongue, jostling her shoulder. “I’m glad you feel that way. It means you’re not undead.”
Arona gasped. “Are you being serious? I think you may be right; I can’t remember ever enjoying any sort of tree or nature back…before.”
“Yeah, you told me that. It was why you wanted to get rid of your Death Core. Remember? You told me you wanted to be more like Rexa.” Victor shuddered. “Though I’m glad you’re not Fae.”
“Hey!” Cora folded her arms. “Efanie and I are fae-bloods!”
Victor snorted. “You’re a long shot from a true Fae, and that’s good, trust me. You’re made better by all the other blood in your veins.”
Arona stepped closer to the young woman and took her hand. Victor arched an eyebrow; he hadn’t seen Arona show affection like that with anyone. “He’s right, Cora. You’ve all the best qualities of a Fae without their strange inability to form bonds with others. They’re born with a set of secret rules written on their souls—strange creatures whom one can never fully trust.”
Victor nodded, walking toward the steps leading down. He paused and pointed to the dark cobbles. “What kind of stone is this?”
Arona came through behind him, still holding Cora’s hand. “Storm-tempered basalt—dug from the depths where you first encountered Dragomir. Our Elementalists did the tempering, partially to cleanse it, partially to make it more durable and suitable for enchantment.”
Victor stepped down to the first landing, admiring the size of the courtyard. A full legion ought to be able to assemble there with room to spare. The walls were enormous—easily two hundred feet high. He turned on the landing, giving the citadel a good look, and quickly came to realize that they’d traversed only a small portion of it on their way outside. It was gigantic—a far larger and more imposing structure than even his palace back at Iron Mountain.
Counting the windows, he guessed the central structure was ten stories high and massive in scope. Surrounding it were four huge rectangular towers, one on each corner, and they rose two and a half times higher into the sky. The two rear ones were hazy with distance. “It’s bigger than I’d imagined.”
Arona laughed. “You said you wanted it to be impressive. We’ve barely finished building the walls and filling out the ground floor. There’s much more work to be done.”
Victor craned his neck, looking from tower to tower and then at the grand curtain wall. Shaking his head, he asked, “There was this much damn stone down there?”
“Our Earth Elementalists found warrens of tunnels that stretched for miles. There are still stones down there.” She pointed to the east, though they couldn’t see past the curtain wall. “They think Dragomir had his thralls quarry the basalt in the mountains that lie in that direction.”
“How—” Victor started to ask, but then a dark-winged shape, streaming clouds of roiling green-tinted gray smoke, flew into view, descending toward the courtyard in a wide, looping spiral. “Lesh,” he said.
Cora caught her breath, and Arona nodded, her eyes also tracking the rapidly descending figure. Lesh wasn’t quite a dragon, but he was more dragon than man, those days. He’d grown to giant proportions—something between twelve and twenty feet tall, though it was hard to tell because he often stood stooped over, the knuckles of his long, black-scaled arms resting on the ground.
He’d forgone wearing clothing, and though Victor had taught him—in the secret confines of his fae-crafted vault—the elder-magic spell for changing his size and shape, he rarely used it, preferring his natural, dragonish form. “Victor!” he roared in greeting, gliding to land on the stone steps nearby. “It’s good you’re here, and perhaps not a coincidence.”
“Lesh,” Victor said, expanding his size so he could properly clasp the clawed hand of his friend. “It’s good to see you—”
“Yes! But there’s something more pressing. A giant woman is here to see you—truly giant.” He tilted his head, eyeing Victor as his slitted yellow eyes narrowed. “You might say titanic.”
