Page 34 of The Pastel Prince

“Holiest Danubia,

Bless my eyes as I gaze upon the wonders of your divinity,

I bow before you in supplication and appreciation of your guiding hand,

Lead me onward, for my journey in thy name is not yet done.”

An odd sort of sound fell from the leaves of the twin oaks. Sharp claps as if someone was applauding our prayers. My eyes lifted from the ground to the trees, scanning the large hand-sized leaves then growing wide when I spied a form seated on a thick branch the height of three elms high. A shiv of dread slid into my side as the form levitated down to the snowy rock floor, his ebony robes flowing outward. His feet were bare, blackened, and never touched the floor when his descent stopped. A dark hood sat upon his head, shadowing his face from our view. The applause stopped when he removed a missive from one deep pocket of his robes and a gray raven statue from another.

“I see you still bend a knee to that ineffectual deity,Father,” he said as he placed the raven on the ground with the utmostcare, the gems from six druid temples sitting cold and lifeless in their slots in the doorframe. “Amazing how a man so supposedly learned, supplicates himself to a whore who would not save his own wife.”

“MAVERUS,” BEIRACH WHISPERED, RISING TO STANDbetween me and Bissori. Tezen wiggled free from my armor, drenched to the bone, her wings flat on her back as she kneeled on my shoulder, growling softly. “I hoped it would not be you I found here.”

Maverus flicked his hood back. We all gasped at the sight, for he was not wholly elf or human or even of this world. His skin clung to his skull, his blue eyes so much like his father’s radiating no kindness or playfulness as I had witnessed in Beirach’s gaze time and again. His skull was free of hair but covering his scalp were markings from the depths, sigils that I had only the vaguest knowledge of. Maverus glowered at his father, his sight never wavering from the archdruid bracing himself. For what we did not know yet, but I suspected the necromancer floating before us was not here for a reconciliation.

“Hope in one hand and spit in the other and tell me which fills up the fastest.” Maverus spat on the ground. The icy rock sizzled as if a hot iron had been placed on it. I sat on my heels, stunned and terrified, my gaze flicking from the dark mage to the odd little raven statue he had placed so tenderly on the cold ground. The bird had been in mid-flight, its wings spread wide when it had been chiseled from granite. “I had hoped that you or your bitch goddess would save my mother, but neither of youdid, so I had to do it myself. A rather ghastly thing for a mere child to have to strive to do, but I did and quite well in fact.”

“Your mother was an undead that you resurrected, despite knowing her beliefs and wants. You know the laws of the woods! Death is a part of nature. Rebirth comes to those who—”

“Gods yes, Iknow.I know all that drivel. You forced it down my throat as if I were a goose having its liver fattened. Spare me your asinine twittering, Father. I have no more use for that prattle now than I did then, perhaps even less after spending so many years in the depths studying with a god who understands my philosophies and approves of my pursuits. What you or your little band of idiots think or feel means nothing to me. All I want from you before I remove your liver from your bloated body and then revive you to walk at my side is for the final gem. You took it from that hovel of a temple that you made me wallow in like a hog for years. I know for I went there but a day ago. The fountain was dry, the statue cold, the gem missing. I see that you have placed it on your staff. You always did picture yourself as clever.”

I glanced at the staff that lay beside me. The antler bound with leather pulsed with arcane energy, the thrumming light stronger than ever before. My gaze flitted to Beirach, standing strong, his features locked into calm acceptance. I rose shakily, soaked and freezing, to stand shoulder to elbow with the man I loved.

“Surely you know that I will not hand over the gem to you!” Beirach shouted at his son. “What I am willing to do is to take you to the king, and you will be tried for your crimes against the druids of the Verboten. During your incarceration I will visit with you, read to you, try to make you see that the evil magicks that you are so besotted with are—”

Maverus laughed heartily. “By the depths, you are an old fool. Surely your young lover there can tell that there is nochance of redemption for me as I have no wish to be saved. Most especially by you,Father.”

“I see you have no morals, that is true,” I shouted over the waterfall to be heard. Maverus grinned at me, his gaze darting from my face to the raven statuary.

“Morals. They are questionable things made by those in power. What you think is an abomination is a thing of beauty to me. Take this bird, for instance.” He flicked a hand at the sculpture. “Truly, it is sad what kind of things just fall from the skies above Melowynn. There I was ransacking some filthy druidic encampment when a raven flew overhead. Knowing that you would reach out to Umeris Stillcloud for help—I do have ears everywhere, child of the woods—I made it my personal ambition to drop every raven I saw.” His cackle filled the chamber, so loud that it drowned out the roar of Mother Moth. “What a pity your missive was delivered, but that is a trivial matter. When the clerics arrive here, it will be too late. I’ll have control of the wellspring, and you all shall be dead, just like all the filthy forest elves that I’ve encased in stone. I’ll be beyond their measly powers and will simply add them to my army of the undead.”

I made to dash to Nin, frozen in stone, but Bissori threw a hand to my chest. “Stay put, my friend. Our time to move is not now.”

“You are correct, good ser dwarf,” Maverus called out. “It isnotyour time, nor shall iteverbe. You all will die here. I will fit the final gem into the doorway and the fountain of the earth shall be mine. Once I douse the wellspring with dark magicks, my final step to becoming an arch lich will be complete. A sip is all it will take, just as a sip from the blessed waters will heal all ills, so will it turn the living to dead once it is corrupted. So, now that we’ve reunited, Father, give me the gem. I will be sporting and allow you to flee this cavern while I ascend. I will kill youlater, of course. I think I might even make you my undead man servant. Bound to lick my feet for eternity. Perhaps you can slaver over one foot and your pale green lover can lick the other.”

Beirach, thrumming with rage, cast a look at me. “Take the staff. Use it to summon the help of the oaks. Do not let him get the gem.”

“I don’t have the power,” I replied with shame.

“You have more power than you know, my love. Make me proud.”

“No!” I shouted but too late, for the man who had captured my heart was now an elk, imposing and grand, its reddish-brown fur highlighted blue and white. His armor fell to the icy ground as did his clothing. I grabbed up the chest plate, still warm from his flesh, and tied it over my leather armor.

Maverus snickered, then flicked a finger. A spell flew at Beirach. I dove for the staff, held it aloft, and called out for divine help. Blue light erupted from the antler, shielding the huge elk. With one leap, Beirach cleared a distance the length of our village, and with head down, he charged at his son.

“Now we move!” Bissori bellowed and charged after Beirach. “For the glory of the sons of stone!”

“For the glory of the pixie court!” Tezen roared, streaking out from my wet braids with war picks at the ready. She flew through the clouds of moths, purple and white dust tumbling down to coat the helm of the dwarven fighter swinging a mace. And there I sat, shaking, my fingers tight around the staff, my ears suddenly filled with two overpowering onslaughts of emotion. I had never experienced such a juggernaut of sensitivity before. The oaks were ancient beings, the source of all of wildlife and flora in Melowynn. Gods, in their own rights, chosen paladins of Danubia, willingly morphed into protectorsof the well a thousand centuries ago. The thoughts of the twin oaks filled my head so strongly that the impact doubled me over.

The goddess has need of her most valuable defenders. Rise, Prince of the Woods, and channel our glorious dominion through thy own hands.

I looked up, winded, my skull thundering with two wellsprings of feeling shoving their wishes into me as Beirach struck his son with a mighty blow. The dark mage cried out as he was impaled and tossed across the huge cave like a rag doll. Bissori fell upon him, using his mace to deal a thunderous wallop to the necromancer’s midsection. Tezen dive-bombed from the air, like a fishing eagle, to attack Maverus’s withered face. As I pushed to my feet, the threesome attacking the dark mage was blown backward, Bissori flying into the root of one of the holy oaks with a crash. Tezen blasted upward, her ability to right herself scattered as she sailed higher and higher. Beirach was flung to his back, his rack scraping along the ground. A tine caught the stone raven, knocking it into a far corner.

“Idiots. Did you truly think a physical attack by mere mortals could drop one who embraces death?” Maverus rose from the ground, his robes torn, his face marked with small bloody gashes, and one side of his skull dented inward. Thick blood, the color of pus, dripped from his toes as he lifted into the air. “You are all fools. How can one kill that which is already half dead?”

He flung a hand up. A blast of sickly green energy hit Tezen, and she fell, her tiny body encased in rock.

“Stop, stop!” I shouted, using the staff to lever myself up as my head pounded. I lifted the staff just as Maverus turned his sights to Bissori. The tiny stone pixie hit the ground witha clatter, her eyes wide, her small, pointed teeth bared in a grimace. “Do not harm another of them!”

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