After half an hour of sitting by the fountain, the group rose. They started to walk out of the park, but Volox managed to get one of the elders to sit on a bench with him and discuss the attack of the queen. The other two elders continued on their way. Volox did not go into a lot of detail about the case, but he tried to present the need to be very careful when dealing out such harsh sentences. The other elder seemed to agree, but he soon rose and left the park.
Karaza smiled inwardly as he recognized the chance he had been waiting for. He moved closer to Volox, keeping himself hidden from view. When he was close enough to accomplish his goal, Karaza cast a spell of sleep upon Volox. Karaza snickered softly as he congratulated himself on solving the problem of the persnickety elder. The snicker quickly turned into a frown as Volox yawned and threw the last of his bread to the birds.
Karaza’s brow creased in confusion. He cast the spell again, but Volox did not seem to be affected. Volox appeared ready to leave and Karaza started to get desperate. He had only wanted to delay the elder, but now he was willing to hurt him to delay him. Karaza aimed a force bolt at the legs of the bench that Volox was sitting on. He figured that the bench would collapse and the elder might be knocked unconscious. Even if he was not knocked out, Karaza could put him to sleep when he offered to heal him.
The force bolt ran true, streaming towards the legs of the bench. Karaza watched the air part as the transparent burst of energy ripped through the air. Suddenly, it dissipated. That was when Karaza realized that Volox was shielded. His eyes darted around the park, looking for the mage that was protecting the elder. He could see no one. Karaza’s lips curled in disgust as Volox rose from the bench.
Karaza tried to gauge the size of the shield around the elder. He contemplated what he would construct if he were trying to protect someone. After a moment, he smiled to himself. He gazed up at the trees and calculated the elder’s path. Timing the casting perfectly, Karaza sent a force bolt streaming into the trees. It severed a large limb, which started falling towards the ground. Volox looked up in horror at the loud cracking noise. He saw the large limb falling down, but there was no time to move.
Unexpectedly, the limb broke in half several feet above the elder. The two halves each fell to different sides of the elder. Volox sighed with relief and started walking again. As the elder approached the building where the Council of Elders met, Karaza was fuming. Throwing caution to the wind, Karaza’s arms rose over his head. Suddenly, the sky sparked with lightning. A huge bolt slammed downward at the elder. Thunder rolled across the sky, and citizens screamed as they saw the lightning strike Volox. A blinding flash obscured the image of Volox.
Seconds later, they saw the elder looking up at the sky in wonder. He shook his head and shrugged as he entered the building. Karaza cursed under his breath as his eyes still searched for the hidden mage who had dared to cross his path. He couldn’t think of any mage that was powerful enough to protect against such a powerful lightning bolt.
Karaza left his hiding spot and moved towards the building, his mind still processing the list of mages who might defy him. When he reached the door to the building, only one name remained on the list. He turned around abruptly and searched the area for his old nemesis, Garl, but the old man was not to be found. Karaza hissed as he opened the door and stepped into the building.
Chapter 27
Gamara
Mistake sighed in frustration and sank to the floor. She put her back to the door and stared into space.
“What is the matter?” asked MistyTrail. “I have never seen you fail to pick a lock before. Is your tool broken?”
“There is nothing wrong with my tool,” grumbled Mistake. “This lock is magically protected. There is no way that I will ever be able to pick it.”
“Then we need another plan,” shrugged MistyTrail. “They will have to open that door some time. We need to figure out what we are going to do when that happens.”
Mistake rose and crossed the room. She bounced down on the bed next to MistyTrail and sighed again.
“It will likely be Karaza that opens the door,” Mistake said. “He will be well shielded. Just what do you think we can do?”
“We still have our knives,” MistyTrail pointed out. “Maybe his shields will not offer him physical protection?”
“So we kill him with knives and then run for the exit of the prison in the middle of Morada?” Mistake asked sarcastically. “I am sure that will work just fine.”
“This is not like you,” frowned MistyTrail. “You never give up. You never stopped searching for me until you found me. We will find a way out. Let’s think about it.”
“I am not sure exactly how much trouble we are in,” replied Mistake. “We might be in very serious trouble, or it is possible that someone will figure out that we didn’t really mean to hurt the queen. It would be great if we could sneak out of here, but killing a guard or Karaza will certainly mean trouble. If we must kill someone, we have to be positive that we can complete our escape, or we will just make things worse.”
* * *
The squad of elven soldiers marched through the city of Morada. In the center of the mass of brown uniforms was a hooded prisoner with his hands bound together and a large pack upon his back. The citizens turned and watched the small procession go by, wondering who was being taken to prison and what offense he might have committed. While such an escort was not a normal sight in Morada, it only held the citizens’ attention briefly before they returned to gossiping about the return of the lost princesses.
The squad of soldiers marched briskly in formation. Only the most astute observer would notice that the prisoner was keeping cadence, and even then it would be assumed that the prisoner was a soldier turned bad.
The column approached the prison and halted outside the door. The officer leading the column stepped forward to address the four sentries standing guard at the door of the prison.
“Tamar,” greeted one of the sentries, “it is not often that we see you here. You must bring a most dangerous one for us today.”
“Indeed we do,” Tamar said seriously. “We have a rogue mage that has already killed a number of my fellow soldiers.”
“Well,” replied the sentry, “we will make sure that he is housed in the mage wing.”
“No,” retorted Tamar, “I will make sure that he is housed in the mage wing. No offense to you or your men, but I am personally responsible for this criminal. I will not relinquish control of this fiend until I personally see him put in his cell. My men will accompany me.”
While the deviation from normal procedures raised a few eyebrows, none of the sentries were bold enough to deny the high-ranking officer his request. Two of the sentries opened the doors to the prison and held them while Tamar marched his men into the building.
Tamar had been to the prison on many occasions and knew the way to the mage wing. There were numerous guards within the corridors and the cell areas. They all knew Tamar by sight and many of them greeted him as he passed by. When they reached the mage wing, the two soldiers on guard duty looked questioningly at the approaching column of soldiers. Tamar called his column to a halt as the two guards approached.
“What have we here?” asked one of the guards.
“A most dangerous villain,” replied Tamar. “Which of the cells are currently occupied?”
“We have many empty mage cells,” replied the guard. “We will find a nice one for him.”
“He does not merit a nice cell,” retorted Tamar with a hint of distaste for the prisoner. “I asked which cells were occupied. I will choose the cell that this prisoner occupies.”