The Marenon Chronicles Collection

Chapter Twenty-Seven





The tall Stühoc glowered at him from the short distance. Black markings ran up and down his gray-skinned neck, and even down to his fingertips. His solid black eyes added to his unsettling deathly features. To Silas, he looked like a living corpse.

Silas gripped the staff in his right hand, noting that it hadn’t changed forms. Anithistor had no intention of killing him yet.

“Silas Ainsley,” the Stühoc king said. “You don’t know how foolish I felt, letting you get away from us so easily.”

“You should hire better guards.”

Anithistor didn’t smile. “Do you realize what kind of power we can have together if you would join with me?”

“I do. That’s why I’m here to kill you.”

“You know that by killing me and destroying the medallions, you will destroy yourself?”

“A fact that has been driven into my brain,” Silas answered. “I’m not afraid to die again.”

“But you don’t know what is ahead of you.”

“Is that why you jump from world to world?” Silas asked him. “You’re so afraid of the end that you want to create a new beginning? Is that it?”

“Perhaps. I’ve never really thought about why I love to move from world to world, destroying all life.”

Silas shook his head. “This is your first one isn’t it?”

“What?”

Silas smirked. “You’ve never done this before. Your world was all but destroyed, and you had to do something. You accidentally came here. There are no other worlds. You figured out how to make a gate, and you came to Marenon. I know this because if you had conquered other worlds before, you would have taken over this small realm a thousand years ago.”

“What’s your point?”

“My point is that you’re terrified. You have never seen such opposition. Only once have you ever come this close to losing everything. The last time that happened you left. You were too afraid to try and rebuild your world. So you came here. You drove fear into the innocent. You war with them so you can become the supreme ruler again.”

Silas took a short step forward.

“I wouldn’t come any closer if I were you.”

“And if I were you, I would think about opening that gate and going back to where I came from. I’m giving you that chance.”

Anithistor’s eyes narrowed.

“That’s right,” Silas continued. “I’m giving you one last chance. I will spare you if you go back home. If not, I will kill you today. Then I’ll destroy the gate.”

He took another step forward.

“I said, I wouldn’t come closer if I were you,” Anithistor warned him.

“Why not? Afraid?” Silas asked.

With a thought, Anithistor brightened the cavern, displaying three platforms set a hundred feet above the Red Gate. Lorcan, Kaden, and Inga stood trembling with ropes taught around their necks.

“I have but to think it, and your friends’ dead bodies will dangle above us.”

Silas wanted to vomit. How did he capture them?

“Surprised, I see,” Anithistor said, his grin yellow and foul. “

Silas didn’t know what to do. How could he fight Anithistor and expect his friends to live?

“What do you want me to do?” Silas asked.

“Give me the medallions.”

“That’s it?”

“No. After you give me the medallions, I’ll open the Red Gate for you, and you’ll walk through it. Once you are in the world I left behind, I’ll close it.”

“And you expect me to believe you’ll just let them go?”

“I guess you will just have to trust me.”

Silas didn’t even blink before he used his magic to throw the Stühoc with the force of an explosion. Anithistor crashed into the Red Gate. Silas knew he had to keep Anithistor’s mind away from his friends on the platform or they would die in a second.

He sent sparks from his fingertips, electrocuting Anithistor with the strength of ten storms. The king responded with a green shield that sprayed the sparks in every direction, shattering rocks to pebbles and dust wherever the bolts landed.

Anithistor cared nothing for Silas’ friends because he came at Silas with everything he had. The staff of Uriah instantly turned into a large shield to deflect Anithistor’s magic, but the electric blast sent it sailing to the floor. Silas concentrated hard to create his own shield of green energy and subsequently shot a blast toward Anithistor, knocking him backward again. Silas conjured blazing, green fireballs in his palms and readied himself to throw them at his enemy. But the Stühoc lifted his arms, calling for the rock ceiling to cave in.

Hundreds, maybe thousands of rocks came tumbling down from the high ceiling. Silas knelt to the ground and lowered his head, anticipating the rocks to crush him; instead, he willed them to stop in mid-air.

The green flames burned bright in his hand as large rocks floated around him. He lifted his head, and with a mighty push, he hurled the rocks and flames in Anithistor’s direction.

The searing rocks crashed into the Stühoc king, burying him under a glowing mountain.

Silas stood from his kneeling position, squinting from the sunlight that was streaming from the gaping hole in the ceiling. Was Anithistor dead? Silas’ magic seemed to be almost spent. His body felt weaker than ever and he found himself staggering as he moved.

He looked up at his friends on the platform. “Are you alright?” he asked. All he got back in return were shaking limbs and nervous stares. Why weren’t they responding to him? He looked back at Will who quietly sat with his eyes closed in the corner of the large cave.

“Father,” Silas called out. Silas looked straight ahead at the blank wall that was the Red Gate. He took a step forward, feeling his limbs starting to give out. He walked past the pile of smoking rock and stood in front of the Red Gate. He could see the small slot at the bottom for the red medallion.

He reached into his pocket and pulled it out. All of these troubles had arisen because of this simple piece of jewelry. He looked back at the pile of rocks. If Anithistor was dead, then the gate would be destroyed with the words that had become so familiar to Silas. He knew all he had to do was think of each individual medallion and say the words that etched through his mind so seamlessly.

He looked up at his friends, knowing that he had to set them free before destroying the gate. He closed his eyes and searched them for their bonds, trying to untie the knots from his position of the ground. But the rumbling ground wrecked his concentration.

When he opened his eyes, the entire cavern was shaking. The rocks that had covered Anithistor were now hovering feet above the ground instead the Stühoc pulled himself up, then they crashed to the floor. He turned to face a battered and fatigued Silas. Blood streaked down the sides of Anithistor’s face and bruises were already forming. The attack would have killed a normal man.

In that moment, Silas knew he wasn’t going to be able to kill Anithistor by conventional magical powers. The Stühoc had to have some weakness; there had to be an attack he could not withstand.

Anithistor easily knew Silas’ weakness.

“Give me the medallion,” he said. He reached a hand toward the platforms that held Lorcan, Kaden, and Inga. “Give me the medallion or they die.”

Silas let out a defeated breath and tossed the red medallion to Anithistor.

“You have the others,” Anithistor said.

“Only one.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the white medallion and tossed it to him.

Despite his obvious pain, Anithistor smiled at his newfound victory as he caught the second medallion. “Where are the others?”

Silas closed his eyes, searching for the medallion’s location. Still lying on the top of the Pyramid. Silas shook his head, knowing Alric had to be dead or the medallions would be in the pedestal by now. Silas would have to destroy them without taking out the Sphere. He hated the thought.

“Not with me,” Silas answered.

“The Sphere,” Anithistor said. He smiled again. “That’s alright. You have no more power.”

“Let my friends go,” Silas demanded.

“Sure.” In the short instant, Anithistor flicked his wrist and the platforms dropped beneath the feet of Lorcan, Kaden, and Inga.

“No!” Silas dropped to his knees, calling on the rest of his power to hold them in mid-air before the ropes could snap their necks.

But it wasn’t enough.

Anithistor sent a flash of electricity into Silas’ chest, throwing him into the wall. The blinding, hot light burned into his concentration. Smoke filled the air, and Silas was completely spent.

He was able to glance up at his friends one last time. Their necks were broken, and they dangled lifelessly in the air.

No! Silas thought. His eyes burned with tears at seeing them so easily killed. It was completely finished. They were through. The Dunarian mission was a failure. Anithistor stepped forward to finish the job.

Silas’ father was still in the corner, muttering to himself. In his last moments of life, he wondered why his father had come here. What was he doing now? Was he afraid? Why hadn’t he tried to help his son?

“You have lost, Silas Ainsley,” Anithistor said.

“I know.”

“I hate to kill the Gatekeeper and Watchman.”

“No you don’t.”

“You’re right.”