Caladin’s Climb—Part 17 (Patreon)

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          Caladin was devastated by what he’d done. There just wasn’t anything he could do to fix it. The damage was done; Lenny’s mind had been reset. Even if he’d known it was going to happen, he’d have been forced to Repair him anyway. The rot of Lenny’s body had reached critical levels. Once it reached his brain, he would have lost cognitive function anyway.

          The only choice Caladin had was to start over with Lenny and do better this time. With some time devoted to research, he might be able to find a way to preserve Lenny’s mind before the next time it needed to be Repaired. Brorn probably had a dozen methods, but he didn’t approve of keeping the minds of zombies functional. Caladin had to spend the next half hour giving Lenny a condensed summary of events, then left him alone for a minute to come to terms with the fact that was already dead. It wasn’t the same as having the old Lenny back, but it was the best Caladin could come up with.

          While Lenny processed, Caladin fixed the store’s teleportation circle. The mistake he’d made last time was to make the circle too lenient with its coordinates. He was extremely careful not to repeat that mistake. When he finished reconstructing the circle, he spent some extra time to cast an herbomancy spell that would embed the silver circle into the wood of the floor properly. The only problem he had now was that even a slight drift on the river would stop the circle from working. A simple anchor solved that problem.

          “Okay,” Caladin announced to Lenny as he exited his office. “I’m all done here. I need to go back to the manor, recharge my mana, and make sure Brorn doesn’t suspect anything.”

          “And by suspect, you’re talking about how you disguised that lady as yourself?” Lenny asked. “With magic?”

          “Yes, with magic,” Caladin said. “You don’t have to keep using that qualifier. I do most things with magic these days. It’s really useful! Just wait here. If you get bored, you can help Carlos make furniture. If you see Brorn, just—”

          “Pretend to be brainless,” Lenny finished for him. “Yeah, you already said.” He waved a hand to dismiss Caladin. “I think I can handle that. Take care of what you need to.”

          Caladin returned to his office and sent his body through his new circle. He appeared at Brorn’s manor to find his master waiting for him, arms crossed in what appeared to be disapproval.

          “This better be good,” Brorn said. “You have been experimenting all day. Has your store started earning money yet?”

          “Uh… not just yet, no, but I think—”

          “Then explain what project you’ve been working so hard on and why it was necessary that you do it now.”

          The experiment! Caladin had almost forgotten. He didn’t know what experiment he was supposed to be working on, but he suspected Maggie hadn’t been specific with whatever excuse she had used to keep Brorn out of the room she was holed up in. “Right. The experiment,” Caladin said. “Sorry for running off like that. I had to try something.”

          “What did you try?” Brorn asked. His eyes were half-lidded in a sort of unamused glare.

          “I think I learned something about magic harmonics,” Caladin said. “I was trying to force different harmonics to work together. There’s a sort of rhythm to the magic. As long as you match the rhythm correctly, you can prevent a spell with different harmonics from collapsing.”

          “Rhythm?” Brorn asked. “Like in music?”

          “Not exactly, but it’s the analogy I’ve been working with.”

          “What kind of rhythm?” Brorn pressed.

          “It’s… complicated,” Caladin said. “It’s not something you can exactly calculate. I just sort of feel it in the way the power ebbs and flows, and see it in the way the shaped mana glimmers. I haven’t mastered the form yet, but I’m starting to get a feel for it. Maybe later I can compose a proper set of rules.” Brorn’s expression didn’t change. “Look, I’m not making it up. Here. Let me show you what I’m talking about.” Caladin held up his hand and inscribed a simple Light spell. A globe of light floated in the air between them.

          “That looks like an ordinary luminomancy spell to me,” Brorn said, sounding skeptical.

          “No, you have to look closely,” Caladin said. “Look at the light. It’s not perfectly constant. See how it subtly gets brighter and dimmer? You can barely notice it, but it’s there. All spells are like that.”

          “I think there is a gap in your education,” Brorn said. “Inconsistencies like that are not due to some kind of harmonic rhythm. They are caused by lapses in concentration, environmental interference, and even the heartbeat of the caster.”

          “Well if that’s what established magic scholars say to explain this, then they’re wrong,” Caladin declared confidently. “The rhythm is real. I can prove it.”

          “Then prove it,” Brorn challenged.

          They were in Brorn’s study, so Caladin beckoned Brorn to follow him as he pulled out a long scroll from his coat and laid it out on a nearby desk. “Here,” Caladin said. “I’ll make a spell that combines kinomancy and calomancy to make heat-seeking bolts of force instead of regular ones.” Caladin waved his hand over the scroll and used his lithomancy to inscribe runes upon it. He used the subtle rhythm each harmonic inspired in him to feel out how to combine them. He let the words scrawl up and down the page and over each other in a sort of spiral.

          Brorn snorted derisively. “That is not going to work,” he insisted. “You’ve written runes on top of each other. I think your mind is starting to deteriorate. It is my fault. I have been too busy with my own projects and neglecting your studies.”

          “It will work!” Caladin insisted. “Here, I’ll even let you be the one to cast it. The activation word will be ‘Vis’.” Caladin finished the scroll, then handed it off to Brorn. “Go ahead,” he said. “Try it out.”

          Brorn looked around at his carefully composed study. “Not in here. We can take this outside.” Brorn led Caladin out to the veranda in the back yard, summoning two zombie servants on the way. He gave each of them a piece of firewood. At Brorn’s instruction, Caladin set one log alight, then Brorn sent the two zombies several paces forward, holding their logs above their head.

          “Okay,” Brorn said. “We have one zombie holding a normal log, another holding a burning log. If these bolts of force are really heat-seeking, they should curve to the burning log even if I aim for the other one. Do you still think your spell is going to work?”

          “I’m confident it will,” Caladin insisted. “Go ahead and prove me right whenever you’re ready.”

          “Vis,” Brorn intoned. A purple bolt of force erupted from his upheld scroll and screamed towards the undead servant with the unlit log. Midway across the yard, the bolt jerked to the side, curving sharply towards the burning log and exploding it in a shower of sparks and splinters. “Hmm,” Brorn said, as though trying to understand what had just happened.

          “Told you!” Caladin said. “The kinomancy provided the force, while the calomancy provided the targeting.”

          “I am… slightly impressed,” Brorn said. “But is this really the spell you have been working on? I am not sure how that is supposed to make me money. Perhaps you can sell pre-written scrolls? Tell me, what inspired you to think of making such a spell?”

          Caladin hesitated. He didn’t want to admit that he’d come up with it on the spot. “It just seemed like a useful combination,” Caladin said instead. “I have to be very precise with my spells when I write them out in scroll form the way I do. It just seemed like it would be convenient to have a spell that I didn’t have to aim. Living people have their own internal body-heat, remember? My spell can track that.”

          “You should refine the spell,” Born said. “Write up a detailed explanation of the underlying mechanics. You also need to detail the casting technique so non-masters can learn to use it. That includes the incantation and associated hand gestures. For a spell that complicated, you could fill an entire book and we could sell copies in the store. A truly unique spell tome like this could sell for a lot and draw in customers from far and wide.” He paused, stroking his goatee as he thought that over. “Hmm, no. We’ll also need to send someone to Eldarin Tor to reserve the rights, otherwise it could just get copied.”

          Caladin could see the problem with that. Both of them had outstanding warrants in Eldesia. “Well… you could just try adding a disclaimer that Necro-King Brorn will hunt any unsanctioned copies down. That might dissuade copyright violations.”

          Brorn’s face lit up. “And we can put my name in big letters right on the inside cover! Brilliant suggestion, Caladin. Brilliant!” He gave Caladin a slap on the shoulders. “Good work. I suppose the time you’ve spent on this wasn’t wasted. Get started on that book, Caladin. I want copies finished and ready for sale by next week. I will send out mailers to a few likely scholars that might be interested. This will give the store’s grand opening a tremendous boost!”

          Caladin had no clue how he was going to manage that with everything else he had on his plate, but he just smiled and nodded. “I’ll get right on that,” he lied. He left Brorn to clean up the mess in the yard and went back inside and upstairs to his bedroom. The door didn’t open. Caladin knocked instead.

          “Still experimenting,” a deep voice called out. “Come back later!” Knowing who was inside his room almost made Caladin laugh at how obvious it was that Maggie was trying to impersonate his voice. How Brorn had failed to notice was beyond his comprehension.

          “It’s me,” Caladin whispered through the door. “Let me in.”

          The door clicked, then swung inward. Maggie grabbed Caladin’s arm and yanked him inside. “Caladin!” she said in a relieved tone. “Thank goodness you’re back. I didn’t know how long I could keep that up.”

          “Thanks for covering for me,” Caladin told her. His room smelled like something had died in it, despite the open window, but it was also cleaner than Caladin had ever seen it before. Most of the undead servants Brorn kept around the manor were dried out specifically so they wouldn’t stink up the place. Brorn definitely would have known something was up. “Sorry I took so long. I’ll Repair you again as soon as I can. I just need to figure out a way you won’t lose your memories when I do it.” Caladin was actually thinking about how he could use Maggie as a test run to figure out a way to fix Lenny again without destroying his memories. There was no reason to risk experimenting on him when he had plenty of undead he could use.

          “Memories?” Maggie asked. “What do you mean?”

          “I just found out the hard way that the Repair spell I’ve been using wipes out all the memories of any undead I use it on,” Caladin explained.

          “I had no idea,” Maggie said.

          “It’s a magic thing,” Caladin told her. “I’ll figure out a workaround. I just need time. Now, we need to get you out of here before Brorn notices the smell. Stand still.” Caladin inscribed a quick nidomancy spell to eliminate the bad humors on Maggie and his room. It wouldn’t last long, but it didn’t need to and in the meantime, she would stop smelling like the rotting corpse she actually was. “Okay,” he told her. “Follow me and act stupid. I need to get some more mana, then we can go back to Brorn-Mart.”

          Maggie’s version of acting stupid involved looking at her feet while she walked. Caladin led her to the mana well without incident. While he charged up, he also picked some leaves from the tree that grew next to the well in Brorn’s courtyard and created some fresh rolls of paper for his scrolls. He replaced all the basic scrolls he’d used up and added a few more, such as a few copies of the mutamancy spell he used for his eldrin disguise. This time he combined the mutamancy spell with a little luminomancy to make his white eyes appear to glow like those of a real eldrin. Anyone that looked at his body with True Sight would be able to tell his body was transformed in some way, but not necessarily what he’d changed. While Caladin had been away sowing chaos across the land, the zombies he’d put in charge of making crates of mana potions had been busy. Stacks and stacks of filled crates were strewn randomly across the courtyard. If he didn’t start hauling them away soon, Brorn would likely complain.

          “You look scared,” Caladin told Maggie. She was staring at her shoes, trying not to move.

          Maggie glanced up quickly, then back down again. “I’d rather not talk right now,” she said in a quiet voice.

          “It’s Brorn, isn’t it?” Caladin asked her. “You’re scared he’s going to turn you off?”

          “It’s my own fault,” Maggie said. “I knew what could happen to me if I went looking for the Necro-King. I went anyway.”

          “You came here on purpose?” Caladin asked.

          Maggie nodded without looking up. “I know. It was stupid. One of his zombies found me before I even got a chance to talk to the Necro-King. The next thing I knew, you were waking me up.” She didn’t volunteer any information about why she came looking for Brorn. Caladin didn’t press her. There were really only two reasons someone came looking for Brorn: to bring back someone that died, or to seek immortality. He’d been asked to share his secrets or raise the dead for so long he’d grown tired of the requests. She wouldn’t know it, but the only lucky petitioners were the ones he turned away. The rest ended up slaughtered by his zombie guards.

          “Well you don’t necessarily have to be afraid of Brorn,” Caladin said. “The only reason he likes to keep his undead servants mindless is because he has trust issues. You’re not a threat to him, so I doubt you have much to worry about on that end. If I gave you a useful job that the mindless drones were too stupid to manage themselves, I’m sure he would leave you alone.”

          “What job would that be?” Maggie asked.

          “Well…” Caladin looked around the courtyard. “You could manage all these mana potions, for one,” he suggested. “I don’t think it would be too difficult. You just have to make sure the drones I assigned stay on task, organize the finished potions, then ship them through the teleportation circle to Brorn-Mart. I know they’re going to be a top-selling item, and Brorn will appreciate the low overhead cost. I could even give you some scrolls to trigger the teleportation circle on your own. As long as you’re not a threat and are making Brorn money, I’m sure he’d keep you around.”

          “I guess that’s better than waiting for him to snap and finally do me in,” Maggie said.

          “Great.” Caladin spent the next half hour or so explaining the job. With Maggie in charge, he wouldn’t have to worry about anything going wrong and the deliveries of mana potions could go right to the store. He took the time to Repair one of the eldrin servants and extract an entire bucketful of blood, then enchant it so it would stay fresh and returned the newly desiccated undead back to Brorn’s regular rotation. It was an expensive investment of mana, but the best way to ensure the mana potions could keep flowing. He demonstrated to Maggie the process of adding a single drop of eldrin blood to each bottle to act as a medium for the mana. Then he made her a stack of scrolls she could use to teleport back and forth between the store and the manor.

          “And if you forget the blood, the potions will still absorb mana,” Caladin explained. “But not enough to glow. Nobody wants to buy a potion like that.” He said nothing about buying potions made from a dead man’s blood. He wasn’t planning to advertise that feature.

          “I think I understand,” Maggie said. “But are you not afraid you’re going to have to explain this to me a second time?”

          Caladin was confused for a moment; then he remembered. If he didn’t figure something out soon, Maggie’s memories would be wiped the next time he Repaired her. “Your memories,” he said. “Right. I almost forgot. Let me think…” Cerebromancy came to mind. Caladin knew of several spells that could put false memories into someone’s head to control them. The problem with that kind of magic is that the false memories would always eventually be rejected, leaving the target of the enchantment angry with the person who had tricked them. If he simply copied Maggie’s memories into her freshly Repaired body, the memories would eventually be rejected as well. He needed a more long-term solution than that. But maybe… was that really the problem Caladin supposed it was? Her body was already going to need regular maintenance. What difference would one more spell make? “Okay,” Caladin said. “I might have an idea.”

          “Already? I thought you said it would take you a while to come up with something?”

          “Yeah. That’s what I just did. I’ll use cerebromancy to transfer your own memories back into your body at the same time I Repair you. I just have to create a custom spell. The memories will decay, but hopefully that will happen at the same rate your actual body is decaying.” Caladin cycled through all the cerebromancy spells he knew. There was one he’d learned that was supposed to transfer memories into another person. The intended use was purportedly to assist with the investigation of crimes, but Caladin was fairly certain most wizards employed it for nefarious purposes. Rather than transfer the memories the target was actively thinking about, he modified the spell to make a copy of all recent memories encoded in the last two weeks, then put them into a brief holding pattern before returning those memories to the same target. When combined with his Repair spell, all he’d have to do is cast the one spell. The intelligent zombie he targeted would be reset, then immediately implanted with its own memories. If it worked right, that would include the burst of memories it had received from the last time it had been implanted with false memories. It wasn’t exactly solving the problem of memories fading, but neither did bringing someone back as a zombie solve the problem of them being dead. Both processes just kicked the problem down the road again and again.

          Caladin pulled out another complex scroll covered in overlapping runes. “There,” he announced. “I think I have something that works. Now I just have to test it.” He called over the undead eldrin servant he’d already been messing with. The poor thing had been Repaired, had its brain scrambled, then been drained of all its blood. Messing with its memories was hardly worse than that. Before he started, Caladin made a copy of the custom spell he’d just created. First, he triggered a basic Repair on the eldrin zombie. Golden fire washed over it to reveal a man with short, dark blue hair holding his hands up, screaming in terror.

          “Don’t eat—Huh? Where am I?”

          “The password is ‘Asparagus’,” Caladin told the man.

          “Wha-what does that mean?”

          “Don’t worry about it. What is the password? Can you repeat it for me?”

          “A-asparagus, are you going to tell me what—”

          Caladin triggered his new spell. This time, a swirl of pink light wrapped around the man’s head, then pulled back as a wave of golden fire burned over the surface of his body. When the fire was done, the cloud of pink light dived back into his head. It would have been a flawless execution if the man hadn’t spent the entire duration of the spell screaming. He only stopped when it was finally done.

          “What’s the password?” Caladin demanded.

          “It’s still ‘Asparagus’, isn’t it?” the man asked. “You just told—”

          “Good.” Caladin scrambled the eldrin’s brains, returning him to the default shuffling, obedient zombie drone Brorn preferred to keep around.

          “Grra?” he asked.

          Caladin turned to Maggie. “Looks like it works,” he announced. It wasn’t a perfect test, but it was good enough for Caladin. Maggie would be the one that would confirm for him whether memories encoded longer ago than a few seconds also got transferred.

          “That didn’t seem like a pleasant experience,” Maggie commented.

          “Neither is letting your body rot until you become a shuffling drone,” Caladin countered. “Come on. I’m basically offering you pseudo-immortality here. Do you want it or not?”

          Maggie sighed. “If I keep doing this job with the mana potions, will I at last be allowed to take breaks?”

          “Of course,” Caladin promised her. “Just stay on top of the potions and you can do whatever you want the rest of the time. It shouldn’t really take you more than twenty hours a week. The rest of your time is yours to do what you want with. You don’t even need to sleep anymore, remember?”

          “Okay.” Maggie nodded. “It’s a deal.”

          “Great.” Caladin touched his copy of the custom Mind-Preserving-Repair spell to Maggie’s forehead. “See you soon,” he told her. The cloud of pink light wrapped Maggie’s head just like it had with the test zombie, then a wave of golden fire washed over the rest of her. “Did it work?” Caladin asked when the spell was done. “Do you still remember everything?”

          “I, uh, I think so?” Maggie replied. She looked over at the eldrin servant standing nearby, then back at herself. “That was very strange. It didn’t hurt, though. I’m not sure why the other guy screamed so much.”

          “He probably just died in a traumatic way,” Caladin offered.

          Maggie looked around the courtyard, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. “Did we… switch places?” she asked.

          “When?”

          “Just now. Before you used that spell, I swear I was standing over there and you were standing over here.”

          “Hmm. No. Your memories might have gotten a little mixed up during the transfer. I’ll work on that for next time. The important thing is it worked. You can remember everything since I woke you up, can’t you?”

          “I think so,” Maggie said.

          “Okay, now if you don’t mind, I’d like to hit you with a cryomancy enchantment. It will apply a low-level chilling effect on your body. It shouldn’t bother you too much and it will slow down the rotting.” It might not have been the exact method Brorn used to extend the lifespan of his zombies, but it was once again a passable substitute. Maggie’s skin gained a slight tint of blue as the cryomancy took effect.

          “I feel cold,” Maggie complained.

          “Good, you’re supposed to,” Caladin told her. “Don’t worry. It won’t kill you. Now, I’m going to head back to the store. Start bringing all these potions over to Brorn-Mart, then come up with whatever system you want to keep the process organized. You should have enough scrolls there for several weeks of deliveries.”

          Maggie nodded. “Good luck… and thank you.”

          Caladin headed back to Brorn-Mart. He was left feeling grateful of Maggie, but also slightly curious about her past. Something must have happened to her for her to end up seeking Necro-King Brorn. For all he knew, the only difference in the experiences between himself and her was that he’d impressed Brorn with his knowledge of magic. Most people came to Brorn seeking immortality, so in a way Caladin supposed he’d probably given Maggie exactly what she wanted. As long as she stayed useful, Brorn would keep her alive indefinitely.

          “It’s me!” Caladin called out to Lenny when he arrived at the store. “I think I figured out the memory problem, and don’t tell Maggie, but I’m testing out a cryomancy enchantment on her to see if it keeps her fresh longer. We’ll find out in a few weeks whether it works. We’ll just have to wait and see if… she…” Caladin trailed off. When he came around the corner, the pudgy bureaucrat from Jakarta was standing in the middle of the store. It looked like Lenny was talking to him. The eldrin man gave Caladin a weak smile when he saw him emerge from his office. “What are you doing here?” Caladin demanded.

          “I am Kreilin, your eminence,” the man introduced himself with a slight bow. “I apologize for the misunderstanding we had before.”

          “Oh, is that what we’re calling it now? A ‘misunderstanding’? You tried to illegally fine me, then arrest me when I refused! I didn’t even get thanks for fixing your town’s teleportation circle!” Caladin crossed his arms, hoping to impress the depths of his annoyance at the man’s presence. “What do you want?”

          “Jadith, our mayor, asked me to come,” the man said. “He was impressed with your mastery of magic and wishes to maintain a friendly relationship moving forward. He has had to deal with the threat of Loyalist attacks for years with very little help from the royal guard. It is his opinion—and mine as well—that having a powerful wizard such as yourself outside of town might be to our mutual advantage.”

          “So you came to apologize?” Caladin asked.

          Kreilin frowned, then dabbed at his forehead with a handkerchief. “Yes, but also offer you a friendly warning and make sure you understand that we had nothing to do with this. Events have spiraled outside our control. You must understand, when we called for the army, we were under the mistaken impression that—”

          “What are you talking about?” Caladin demanded. “What ‘events’ have spiraled out of control?”

          “Queen Fayse’s royal guard,” Kreilin said. He looked down at the floor, his fat cheeks trembling as he reported the bad news. “They are here. Early. When they learned the teleportation circle had been fixed, they used it to shorten the travel time. Jadith tried to explain the misunderstanding, but their commander insisted she already had orders. She won’t listen to reason! I fear these soldiers will arrive here within the hour with murderous intent. We tried to warn them that you would destroy them, but they didn’t believe you were really an archmage.”

          Caladin understood all too well what was really going on. The bureaucrat hadn’t really come to apologize, he’d come to make sure Jakarta came out on top no matter which side won the ensuing conflict. He’d probably come to deliver his warning in secret. That meant the mayor of Jakarta thought there was a chance Caladin would win the ensuing conflict, which was a point in favor of the reputation Caladin had been trying so hard to build, even if he didn’t believe it himself.

          “Okay,” Caladin said. “Message received. Thank you for warning me. I will consider the gesture when deciding how I choose to respond to this attack. You can go now.”

          The little man bowed his head, then hurried to the door. He stopped at the threshold, turning back. “I have one question for you though, your eminence,” he said.

          “What?”

          “Why is it you appear to be a human right now?”

          Of course. Caladin’s heart nearly stopped when he realized he’d forgotten to put on a disguise before teleporting back from Brorn’s manor. He hadn’t been expecting to find visitors. He couldn’t afford to let word of his actual race get out. “I am no one race,” he said. “I can make myself whatever is most convenient. Humans are resistant to magic.” He inscribed an illusion that shifted him into an eldrin. “Eldrin are well attuned to sensitive spell work.” He shifted his illusion again and made himself look like an orc. “Orcs are strong.” He shifted next to a dryad. “Dryads are durable.” Caladin wasn’t even sure if a spell to turn into a dryad existed. All that mattered was that nobody suspected he was really human.

          “Of course,” Keilan said. “It was a foolish question.” He ducked his head one last time and left the store.

          As soon as the man was gone, Caladin returned to his office and got to work. He started by using a scrying spell to check the area around Brorn-Mart for signs of soldiers. He found them still gathering in town. They’d taken over the area around the teleportation circle and were teleporting in new reinforcements at a constant rate. From a quick count, Caladin found there were already nearly a hundred of them. A few weeks after arriving at Brorn’s manor, Caladin had read a book on the Eldesian military structure, so he knew they sub-divided their legions into units called cohorts. Cohorts consisted of 120 soldiers, so based on the numbers he was seeing, Caladin guessed a full cohort was going to be sent against him. These wouldn’t be the pitiful local militia, either. They’d be fully trained and equipped professional soldiers. They all looked to be wearing the latest enchanted armor too. Not a good sign.

          Caladin rushed out of his office, clapping his hands to get Carlos’s attention. “Okay,” he said. “That’s enough furniture-making for today. I want you to take your crew and head out to the forest on the Setsyan side of the river. Gather some fresh lumber and don’t come back until tomorrow morning.”

          “Why?” Carlos asked. He was crouched next to what looked like a desk drawer, tapping tiny nails into the side of it. “I’m in the middle of some delicate work. We shouldn’t need more lumber until next week.”

          Caladin took a breath. He considered lying, but realized Carlos wasn’t likely to make problems even if he was told the truth. “Okay, fine. We’re about to be attacked by some soldiers. I need you out of the way while it goes down in case things get messy. You’re too important to risk getting caught in the crossfire.”

          “I’m… important?” Carlos asked.

          “Yes, now just do as I say unless you want to die. Again.” Caladin shooed him out of the store. He listened this time, gathering his crew of zombies and heading out to the forest with a big dumb smile on his face.

          Lenny stayed behind. “Soldiers?” he asked. “I can help fight. What can they even do to me? I’m already dead.”

          “They can burn you to ashes,” Caladin told him. “I don’t mind if you want to stay, but don’t try to fight them. You’re not equipped for a wizard fight. Go outside and keep watch. If you give me a heads-up when they get close, that would be a big help. They’ll be coming from Jakarta.”

          “How are you gonna fight them? You look worried.”

          “That’s just because I’m not ready yet,” Caladin said. “Give me a half hour and you’ll see how confident I look.” He wasn’t actually sure if that was true, but saying it helped.

          Before Lenny was even gone, Caladin pulled out his sending stone. “Master Brorn,” Caladin said into the device. “There’s trouble.”

          “What is it this time?” Brorn’s voice emanated from the small stone. “Did one of your intelligent undead run off? I tried to warn you about them, but you insist on learning all my old mistakes on your own.”

          “No. Not that. Queen Fayse just sent a small army of soldiers to wipe out our store. I think it’s a full cohort.”

          “What did you do?” Brorn’s voice shrieked through the stone. “I told you not to get involved in eldrin politics!”

          “It’s not political,” Caladin insisted. “All I did was make a minor mistake with the security protocol when I installed the teleportation circle. A few villagers got turned inside out and they called in the army to help. I already fixed the mistake and they don’t even know I caused it, but the mayor couldn’t convince the commander of the cohort to call off the attack.”

          “Are you sure they don’t have proof you caused those deaths?” Brorn asked. That was Brorn; no concern for murder or mayhem as long as the consequences didn’t come back on him.

          “I can’t speak for the commander, but I’m reasonably sure the mayor wouldn’t be warning me about the attack if he thought I was responsible. I don’t think they have the resources to figure out I was responsible.”

          “Good,” Brorn said. “I will be there as soon as I can. And do not worry, this will not be the first time I have taken on an army single-handedly.”

          The connection cut out. Caladin walked out of the store and stood on the shore of the river. He didn’t have the first idea how to overpower that many wizards. Brorn seemed confident, but Caladin couldn’t think why. Surely, that many wizards could annihilate even a horde of zombies with ease. Caladin racked his brain for something he could do against so many soldiers in enchanted plate mail. The simple tricks he’d used against the town guards that tried to bully him the other day wouldn’t work. Their enchanted armor would block his spells automatically. His belt could hold a significant volume of mana, but against so many it would run out far too quickly. The kind of brute-force attack he’d used at his bank heist would at best be able to take down five soldiers. That still left 115 to deal with. What he needed was more mana.

          There was an obvious way to get more. Caladin returned to his teleportation circle and popped over to Brorn’s manor.

          “You’re back already?” Maggie asked when he stepped foot into the courtyard.

          “The shop is under attack. I need as much mana as possible,” Caladin said. He looked over the crates of mana potions stacked on the ground. Maggie had seemingly just started organizing the stacks. “How many of these are charged already?” Caladin asked.

          “Just those three,” Maggie said, indicating a stack near the doorway. “I had more, but Brorn just came in here and took a bunch. I think this next crate will be ready in another half hour if you want to wait.”

          “I can’t,” Caladin said. “I’m taking these three. I’ve got to go.” Each crate had thirty bottles in them. Caladin picked them up with a simple telekinesis spell and headed out of the courtyard.

          “I thought we were supposed to sell these!” Maggie complained. “You two just keep taking them for yourself!”

          “We can sell the next batch,” Caladin promised. “It’s more important that the store not be destroyed right now. Soldiers are coming.”

          “So why don’t you just leave? It only took a week to build the store. Just find a new place that’s not under attack and build a new store.” Caladin had to pause at the suggestion. It was a surprisingly sensible one.

          “It’s more than just one shop,” Caladin said. “The Eldesians are going to be our best customers. If we let this store get destroyed, their queen will just destroy the next one. We have to demonstrate to everyone that Brorn-Mart is here to stay.”

          Maggie narrowed her eyes at Caladin as he levitated the stack of mana potions off the ground. “You’re going to risk your life just so Brorn can make more money?” She sounded skeptical, which didn’t seem entirely unreasonable given what she knew.

          “Not exactly,” Caladin admitted. “I have other things going on at the moment. I need this shop right where it is. It’s personal.”

          Maggie frowned. “Well, just be careful,” she asked of him.

          “Always,” Caladin said. “I won’t put myself at too much risk. If things look too hairy, I’ll just teleport out of there. Don’t worry about me.”

          Caladin marched his train of mana potions back to the teleportation circle in Brorn’s study and teleported them all back with him. When he got back to Brorn-Mart, he found the shop empty. He expected that. But when he went outside, he found a line of undead minions standing guard along the Eldesian shore. It was more zombies than he’s brought with him, so he assumed Brorn was responsible, despite not seeing him around.

          Lenny came sprinting over the bluff from the North. “Soldiers!” he reported. “I counted at least a hundred. They’re marching this way in formation.”

          “When will they be here?”

          “A minute. Maybe less,” Lenny said.

          “Good. Just stand with the others and try to look intimidating,” Caladin told him, gesturing to the line of zombies still standing guard. “I expect Brorn to be here soon, and he seemed like he had a plan. Our job is just to stay alive until he gets here.” Caladin settled into a spot where he’d be behind the line of zombies but still have a clear line of sight to the approaching soldiers. He took his crates of mana and sunk them into the ground with some geomancy, then stood on top of them. They’d be close enough for him to draw on their mana while staying safely out-of-sight to anyone scanning the area. For his final preparations, Caladin cast the most powerful armamancy ward he knew, then imbued Lenny with the spell Fire Proof so he wouldn’t have to worry about his friend being incinerated. The last thing he remembered to do before the line of soldiers came over the nearby hill was put on his eldrin disguise again. It was the only way a bunch of eldrin soldiers would give him any respect as a wizard.

          The soldiers came in sight. Just like Lenny had reported, they marched in perfect formation, their shiny armor emblazoned with the red slash that marked them as royal guards. They didn’t immediately start slinging spells, so Caladin let them get closer. There was still a chance he could talk his way out of this. The column came to a stop. A soldier stepped forward and called out in a magically enhanced voice, “By order of her majesty, Queen Fayse, the person or persons within this illegal business are to surrender immediately and submit to questioning for the crimes of murder, destruction of property, aiding the enemy in a time of war, and treason. Failure to comply will result in immediate execution.” The speaker had a brusque tone, but it was unmistakingly feminine, even though Caladin couldn’t tell that by looking at her armor.

          “The only one doing anything illegal is you guys,” Caladin said. “And as I am neither an Eldesian citizen, nor on Eldesian land, not only do you have no authority to arrest me, but the crime of treason is laughable.”

          “We have the authority to pursue criminals, even across Setsyan borders,” she declared. “As per article nine, section C in the Setsya-Eldesia Treaty. We are pursuing the suspect responsible for the deaths of no less than twenty-four Eldesian citizens.”

          “I didn’t kill anyone!” Caladin called back. “They just thought I did.”

          “We have confirmed the cause of the incident with absolute certainty. Someone sabotaged the town’s teleportation network with a wide-ranging vocomancy enchantment centered around—”

          “Fine!” Caladin relented. He wondered just how much evidence they actually had on him. They hadn’t even named him specifically. Tough luck. “You might have the authority to arrest me, but I will still contest your ability.” Caladin started working on a spell that would shift between aeromancy and visceramancy. Aeromancy was the one harmonic least likely to be warded against, as doing so for lengthy periods of time would cause suffocation. He was hoping to exploit that weakness.

          “I assure you,” the commander of the guard barked back. “We have the ability.”

          “You don’t even know who I am, do you?” Caladin asked the woman. “I am Archmage Caladin, apprentice to the great Necro-King Brorn. Have you fought an archmage before? Do you really think a mere cohort is enough for the likes of me?”

          The soldier scoffed. “You are a child,” she said. “Archmages only exist in stories. The nearby town was easy to fool. You made them believe they were responsible for the vocomancy deaths, just as you made them believe you were some master of magic out of legend. You are a con man, nothing more. The Queen’s Guard is not so easily fooled. Surrender now or die. This is your last warning.”

          “No,” Caladin said. “This is your last warning! Move against me, and you’ll see what I am really capable of.”

          The enemy commander shook her head regretfully and raised a hand to her men. “You had your chance. Whatever tricks you have planned won’t save you now.”

          “Tricks?” Caladin repeated. He laughed. “How’s this for a trick?” He swept his arm forward, triggering the release of the scroll he’d prepared in his pocket. A gust of wind disturbed the air. It seemed harmless. Until the commander’s armor exploded in a shower of gore. Blood gushed out of her faceplate and joints as her armor dropped to the ground and collapsed into an empty pile. Caladin smiled. The spell worked better than he’d hoped.

          There was a stunned moment of silence after Caladin’s spell. “Well?” Caladin called out. “Who’s in charge now? Are you ready to leave, or do I have to do that to all of you? Still think my magic is just tricks?”

          The column of soldiers shifted uncomfortably, each looking around like they weren’t sure what to do. Finally, a soldier from the front line broke the spell. “What are you waiting for?” he asked his fellows. “That man just killed a superior officer. Attack!”

          The cohort surged forward as one. Caladin barely had time to react before a dozen spells flew towards him. His undead minions responded to the threat by taking off at a sprint, screeching that terrible other-worldly scream Brorn taught them to use. Caladin flinched as a barrage of spells crashed into his ward. Thanks to the store of mana under his feet, it held. Then the zombies hit the front line and the distracted the soldiers for a brief moment. Caladin used that time to make copies of his aeromancy-visceramancy spell that had worked so well and threw it against the soldiers again and again. He didn’t even bother gesturing at the enemies he targeted, working solely with much faster mental targeting. Soldiers rushing towards him collapsed into piles of bloody armor, one after another.

          A few of the soldiers sprang up into the air, the rest charged forward, cutting through zombies like they were made of paper. Caladin threw his liquification spell at them again and again. Their wards couldn’t stop it. A burst of air would hit them, then a second later their body would be torn to pieces beneath their armor. His mana depleted at a rapid rate, most of it being spent maintaining his armamancy wards. Lightning, ice, fire, and stone: all flew at him from different directions. There were too many targets. Caladin lost count of how many wizards he liquefied. Ten? Twenty? It didn’t matter. There were so many of them, and they had far more mana to throw at him than his wards could absorb. He could feel a tingling sensation as all the mana surged through him. Not a good sign.

          Without warning, the mana reserves maintaining Caladin’s ward gave out. He saw the instant it shattered, and so did his opponents. A soldier stepped forward and launched a spinning vortex of fire. He dived to the ground to avoid being incinerated.

          “Okay,” he said to himself. “Time to leave.” He activated his teleportation spell to jump back to Brorn’s manor. It didn’t work. Not enough mana. He tried a cheaper spell that would only take him to the other side of the river. Nothing. He was well and truly drained of mana. And completely surrounded.

          Someone picked up a boulder nearly as large as a carriage and dropped it on Caladin from above. He held up his arms to block the attack, knowing it was a useless gesture, but unable to stop himself.

          Pop.

          Brorn appeared over Caladin, arms held wide. He pointed to the boulder. It disappeared. It didn’t catch fire, it didn’t get deflected, it didn’t crumble to dust: it just ceased to exist. When Caladin looked at Brorn he saw why, and it nearly terrified him as much as his imminent death had.

          “YOU DARE ATTACK MY APPRENTICE?” Brorn shouted. His voice thundered over the battlefield, cutting through the chaos with booming vibrations. Resting on Brorn’s forehead was a thing of nightmares: Belorian’s silver crown. For some reason, Brorn seemed to be able to wear the thing without losing control of his senses. Given the circumstances, Caladin didn’t question it.

          Brorn’s challenge was answered not by words, but by a volley of offensive magic from two-dozen wizards at once. He raised his hands and a wall of darkness engulfed the spells. Spells of all different harmonics hit Brorn’s darkness and fizzled into nothing.

          There was no question. Brorn was wielding the forbidden power of lunamancy.

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