* * *
“There are three ships on the horizon,” General Santiock declared as he stood before Vand’s disciple in the atrium of the temple in Vandamar. “They appear to be ours.”
“Any idea where they are coming from?” asked Xavo.
“From their approach,” replied the general, “I would suggest Fakara, but I cannot be sure.”
“We have had no word of their arrival,” frowned Xavo as he looked over at Lady Mystic.
“I will contact them,” offered Lady Mystic as she rose and hurried up the stairs to the roof.
“Has there been any more word from the other armies,” Santiock asked with concern.
“Last I heard,” Xavo said with apparent unconcern, “is that the elves were on the run. I am sure our armies will return victorious in a day or two. I would not concern yourself.”
“Xavo,” frowned the general, “we have known each other for some time. You can level with me. I fear that something is amiss.”
Xavo gazed into the eyes of the man who had dragged Xavo from the fire when Aakuta died. He knew Santiock as a decent man, but telling him the truth was not an option. Santiock was now the last remaining general on the Island of Darkness, and his ten thousand men were defending the city of Vandamar. Within a day the elves would attack and the last fight for control of Motanga would begin. The luxury of personal feelings could not be allowed to intrude into Xavo’s planning.
“You worry too much, Santiock,” smiled Xavo. “The elves do not have enough ships to bring a large force to this island. Surely twenty thousand men can hunt them down and kill them.”
“I guess it is the lack of news one way or the other that bothers me,” admitted Santiock. “We have only had the capability of air tunnels for a short time, but it has changed everything that we do. Had this occurred last year, I would have no concerns at all, but with air tunnels, we should have had word by now.”
“We have had word,” countered Xavo. “Lady Mystic spoke to them not an hour ago. As I said, they are chasing the elves southward. Motanga is a large island, Santiock. Give the armies time to do a complete job.”
“I guess you are right,” nodded the general, “but this city seems so empty. There is no one in the temple besides you and Lady Mystic. Even the other mages are absent. It seems like we are guarding a ghost town.”
“There are still thousands of citizens to protect,” smiled Xavo. “As for the mages, I cannot discuss their mission. They will return when the time is right. Go and relax with your men. Perhaps you should hold a feast to take their minds off things. I will authorize it if you wish. It will do wonders for the spirits of the men.”
“Perhaps that would divert them from their worries,” nodded Santiock. “Idle soldiers are never a happy lot. I wish my army had been chosen to fight the elves. At least that would make us feel like we are contributing to the war effort.”
“You will get your chance to fight soon,” smiled Xavo. “I understand that your army is soon to be rotated to Khadora, but do not let on that you know. It is supposed to be a secret.”
“Really?” brightened Santiock. “That will make the men feel useful. Perhaps a celebration festival is in order after all.”
“Just don’t let them know the real reason for the celebration,” grinned Xavo. “Begone. Go and enjoy the company of your men while you can.”
Santiock smiled broadly and left the temple. Moments later Lady Mystic raced down the stairs from the roof.
“There are twelve mages on the ships,” she reported. “They are indeed from Fakara. They have been sent to discover the nature of the air tunnel failures.”
“This is not good,” frowned Xavo. “If they can communicate with Fakara, our secret will be discovered. We will have ten thousand angry soldiers and a dozen mages against us in a hurry. We must stop them from communicating with Meliban.”
“I already have,” grinned Lady Mystic.
“How?” asked Xavo.
“I used an air tunnel to talk to them,” explained Vand’s daughter, “but I told them that it must be the last communication they make before we speak to them personally. I explained how the Khadorans had tricked us into using air tunnels and warned them not to use the spell any more.”
“I do not understand,” Xavo shook his head. “What are you talking about?”
“I am talking about the compulsion spell that travels inside air tunnels,” grinned Lady Mystic. “I told the mages that the Khadorans were utilizing our air tunnels for nefarious means, and that every time we cast one, there was a chance that it carried a Khadoran compulsion spell. I explained how hundreds of mages in Khadora had been subverted using air tunnels, and how they turned on one another.”
“And they bought it?” asked Xavo.
“They would be foolish not to,” laughed Lady Mystic. “After all, the hellsoul spell is really a strong compulsion spell. All Motangan mages have learned to fear such compulsions. Besides, I told them that I could teach them a way to protect themselves when they arrived, so they are only being asked to halt the use of the spell for a short time. There is no real cost for their obedience. Or so they think.”
“But we both know differently,” grinned Xavo. “What is your plan?”
* * *
“Hurry to the temple,” Lady Mystic said as the twelve black cloaks gathered on the docks. “I want to teach you the modifications to the air tunnel spell before you rest from the journey. This information must make its way back to Fakara.”
“Why haven’t you communicated it yourself?” asked one of the mages as the group made its way towards the temple. “It certainly is important enough to be delivered immediately.”
“It is too dangerous over such a long distance,” explained Lady Mystic. “While I am protected by the modifications, those on the other end of the air tunnel are not. I dare not expose my father to such a threat.”
“But mages are using the unmodified air tunnel right now in Fakara,” argued a mage. “Every minute they use the unmodified spell brings the chance of great harm to our forces. We must send word back immediately.”
“No,” Lady Mystic said harshly. “Do not be a fool. The Khadorans do not even know that we have landed in Fakara yet. To send a message there is to invite chaos. They have ships patrolling the waters and listening for air tunnels. The modifications must be personally delivered to Fakara and taught to our mages. That is what the twelve of you will do.”
“Is this why we cannot contact Alamar or Duran or Raven’s Point?” asked a mage. “Have you stopped all communications with them?”
“Yes,” nodded Lady Mystic as the group climbed the steps of the temple. “I have sent out mages to each of those locations already. In fact, I sent mages out to Meliban as well. You must have missed them on the way here.”
“Or they were intercepted by the Khadoran patrols,” frowned a mage. “Why have we not heard of the Khadoran ships before? We were supposed to own the seas. Where are they coming from?”
“Doralin’s force in the Sakova lost quite a few ships to the enemy,” explained Lady Mystic as she led the group up the stairs inside the temple. “The Khadorans now ride the seas in Motangan ships. That is why I needed to verify your identities when you were approaching the island. We can take nothing for granted any more.”
“The temple appears empty,” remarked one of the mages as Lady Mystic exited the staircase at the second level and led the group to a small room. “Where has everyone gone? There are no mages or guards.”
“There is a massive festival tonight,” smiled Lady Mystic as the group entered the room. “We had word this morning of Doralin’s victory in the Sakova, but I will explain the news after you all learn the modifications of the air tunnel. That is too important to wait. Everyone face me,” she added as she stood along the wall opposite the door.
The black cloaks gathered together and dutifully faced Lady Mystic. She was somewhat surprised that none of them questioned her restoration to grace, but then they were trained not to question Vand’s fickle moods. She smiled at them.