She sighed with relief.
“Let’s get out of here,” she said, spurring her horse toward the Rangers.
Anatoly rode up next to Magda.
“Did that seem just a bit too easy to you?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said, nodding.
Once they were well away from Zuhl and his brutes, they stopped to make camp for the night.
Anatoly was brushing his horse when Alexander appeared beside him.
“That’s not Abigail,” he said quietly. “I’m not even sure if it’s human.”
“What do you mean?” Anatoly asked, his mood visibly darkening.
“Zuhl sent an imposter.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely,” Alexander said. “Her colors aren’t right and it looks like she’s under a powerful spell. But more to the point, I just looked in on Abigail in Whitehall. She’s still being held by Zuhl.”
“Then we gave him that book for nothing,” Anatoly said.
Alexander smiled, shaking his head. “Not for nothing. Have Magda help you take the imposter alive. We might gain some valuable information.”
Anatoly nodded, unslinging his war axe.
He approached the fire cautiously, catching Magda’s eye and showing her the blade of his axe. She tensed slightly at his unspoken warning, made an excuse and left the fire where the Abigail double and a number of Rangers sat sipping hot tea.
“Abigail’s an imposter,” he whispered. “We need to take her alive.”
She looked at him hard, searching his face for confirmation.
His unflinching gaze left no room for doubt.
She nodded before turning toward the campfire and beginning her spell.
Anatoly began to move quietly out of the way.
Magda released her spell, sending twin spheres streaking toward the imposter, one light blue, the other amber. The amber sphere hit first, striking a shell of magical energy surrounding the imposter and rebounding back at Magda. She tried to dodge her own spell but was struck on the shoulder. The amber light almost instantly encapsulated her, paralyzing her with her own magic and sending her toppling to the ground.
The blue sphere struck the imposter a fraction of a second later, spreading its light-blue magical energy across the surface of her body in an instant. A moment later the spell surrounding her broke, revealing a woman that didn’t look quite human. Her skin had an almost imperceptible blue tinge to it and her eyes were catlike, similar to those of a dragon.
She sprang to her feet, muttering the words of a spell and extending her arm toward three nearby Rangers who were caught totally off guard by the sudden turn of events. A spray of frost leapt from her hand, coating the surprised men with ice and stunning them into near paralysis.
Anatoly didn’t waste any time. He started rushing her the moment she stood, his axe raised high and ready. As she turned toward him, he brought the blade down, cleanly severing her forearm, her hand flopping to the ground. She screamed in pain as he continued into her, slamming his dragon-plate-armored shoulder into her chest and knocking her to the ground, stunned and wracked by the sudden pain of his assault.
Within seconds he had her bound and gagged.
“Check on Mistress Magda,” he barked to a nearby Ranger as he secured the imposter’s bindings.
Alexander appeared in their camp a few minutes after the imposter had been taken to a tent and tied to a post.
“Well done,” he said.
“What about Abigail?” Anatoly asked, uncharacteristic worry seeping into his voice.
“You and Magda will ride for the Gate at first light,” Alexander said. “I’ll have Abel open it for you as soon as you arrive. From Ithilian, you’ll go to Zuhl and find the dragon Ixabrax. He’ll help you free Abigail.”
“Why would a dragon help us?” Magda asked.
“I made a deal with him,” Alexander said. “I believe he’ll honor it.”
“I hope you’re right,” Magda said. “Dragons are nothing to trifle with.”
“Trust me when I tell you, I understand that better than most. Abel will fill in the details when you arrive.”
“And what about that book?” Magda asked. “Ancient spellbooks can be exceedingly dangerous.”
“You have no idea,” Alexander said. “Fortunately, neither does Zuhl.”
“I take it he didn’t get what he was expecting either,” Anatoly said.
“No, he did not,” Alexander said. “With any luck, he’ll be dead by the time you arrive.”
“I’m starting to like this plan,” Anatoly said.
“I thought you might,” Alexander said, fading out of sight.
***
Dawn broke over clear skies on Ithilian. Anatoly and Magda stood before the Gate dressed in heavy furs as was the custom on the Isle of Zuhl. Twelve highly trained and skilled individuals handpicked by Jataan P’Tal stood behind them. Some were wizards, a few were Rangers, the rest soldiers, but all of these men had one characteristic in common: all of them were big, powerful-looking men.
Abel was there as well with General Kishor and Mage Lenox. Everything was in place.
Alexander appeared on the Gate platform and nodded his approval.
“The enemy is unaware of our plan,” he said. “Our initial attack will take them entirely by surprise. Once you’re through the Gate, I’ll be able to communicate with you and coordinate your efforts, but other than that, you’re on your own. This is your last chance to reconsider.”
Anatoly grunted dismissively, Magda held her head high and stood her ground. All twelve members of the newly formed Reishi Elite Guard took a single step forward as one.
Alexander turned to Abel. “Proceed.”
The King of Ithilian used his Thinblade to open the Gate to Zuhl. The moment the stone wall shimmered away and opened a passage to an island thousands of leagues away, the largest of Mage Gamaliel’s explosive weapons rolled through. Shouts of alarm were heard from the soldiers of Zuhl as Abel closed the Gate. A moment later Mage Lenox crushed the activation stone, detonating the weapon.
Abel counted to ten before opening the Gate again to a scene of chaos and carnage. Thousands lay dead or dying, their broken bodies scattered haphazardly across the frozen tundra of southern Zuhl.
Fourteen souls stepped through into the disarray, separating into their assigned teams and heading in the direction of their respective objectives. Anatoly and Magda went north into the sea of soldiers surrounding the Gate. Their objective, the rescue of Abigail, was the most vital to Alexander, but the others had important work to do as well.
The members of the Elite Guard had been sent to collect information about Zuhl’s army, his battle plans, and his ships. They were to blend into his army and look for vulnerabilities, striking where they could from the shadows, seeking opportunities to do the greatest harm with the minimum risk of capture or discovery. Each had volunteered. Many would never return. None could be taken alive. All of them had accepted the risks. All of them had suffered loss at Zuhl’s hands. Once through the Gate they broke into teams of three and melted into the vast army that was working to understand the nature of the sudden threat that had disturbed their otherwise mundane morning.
Wearing clothes and furs taken from Zuhl’s barbarian horde on Fellenden, Anatoly and Magda blended in without effort, just two more people in a sea of many. They wound their way through the tents and paddocks, avoiding contact as much as possible. Most of the soldiers were making ready for battle, donning armor and pulling on their boots. Few gave them a second look and most of them only to appraise Magda until they saw Anatoly with his axe resting on his shoulder.
It didn’t take Anatoly long to notice that the men with emblems of rank also carried the finest weapons. Most of the soldiers were armed with mediocre blades and spears, but the officers all carried well-made weapons forged of quality steel. When he realized the significance of their weapons, that they served as an indication of rank, he made sure everyone passing by got a good look at his war axe.