CHAPTER 14
Gasping for breath, Riley continued to plunge headlong down the corridor, intent on putting as much distance between her and Cole as possible. Feeling a stitch in her side, she stopped and sank to the floor, burying her head between her knees. She had no idea how long she had been running, looking around she saw that she was in a narrow, shadowy corridor. Frowning, she realized that she had not come across any rooms or people, just a seemingly endless corridor, full of twists and turns. Squealing, she leapt to her feet as she remembered Cole telling her that it was quite common to get lost in the maze of corridors, sometimes for days. Suppressing the wave of panic that threatened to overwhelm her, she took deep, calming breaths. What else had Cole said? Something about the maze revealing its secrets to those it considered worthy. She did not know if she would even be under consideration since she was not a Dark Mage. She started to yell for help, figuring that someone might hear her. Perhaps Cole was looking for her. Time flashed by, her shouts had not attracted the least bit of attention and now only a faint croaking was issuing from her parched throat. Sitting cross legged on the floor, she rubbed her throbbing head and tried to think.
Cole had referred to the maze as if it was a living organism. If she asked it for directions, would it respond? It was the only plan she had. Feeling foolish, she spoke aloud, “Hi, my name is Riley. I am lost. Would you please lead me to Cole?” Nothing happened. Disappointment curled in her gut, part of her had hoped that somehow she would have been magically transported to Cole. She smacked herself in the head as it occurred to her that she had not tried to teleport herself out of her maze. But she suspected that teleporting would not work since many mages had been trapped for days and would have certainly tried to teleport themselves out. But it could not hurt to try.
Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, reached for her power center but connected with something else instead. Her entire body throbbed with heat, drowning in a river of fire, she tried to break the connection but something held her fast.
A voice whispered, “Relax. Just let the river take you where it will.”
Having no other options, she complied. Immediately, the heat became less intense, and she was weightless, floating not on a river of fire but on a river of energy. She intuited that this was all taking place in her mind, not to her physical body. Abandoning all resistance, she relaxed into the energy, merging with it. Aliveness, vitality and peace surged into her. Voices, sometimes muted, sometimes loud, sung to her in an ancient language that her soul understood. When the revelation came, it did not strike like a lightning bolt but unfolded like a butterfly’s wing. The river of energy was a source of immense power. Neither inherently good nor evil, the source just was. But its power could be harnessed for good or evil purposes.
Opening her eyes, she found herself still sitting cross-legged in the corridor but it was no longer dim. A finger of light glowed in the distance. She got up and began to walk towards the light which kept moving, darting down one corridor and up another, turning left, right and left again. Hurrying, Riley followed the light, sometimes when she lagged behind it waited for her to catch up before dashing off again. Winded, she stopped to catch her breath, and watched the light stop at the end of the corridor. Scratching her head, she studied the wall in front of her wondering why the light had brought her here to this dead end.
She looked up at the light but it provided no answers, it just hovered in the air, shining on the brick wall. Turning back to the wall, she realized that it was made up of individual rectangular red bricks. None of the other walls were like this one. Suspecting that there may be a hidden opening, she started to tap on the bricks, and on her third tap, a brick moved and the whole wall slid up, revealing a huge room shimmering with rainbows. Stunned by its sheer beauty, she smiled when she saw that the walls and ceiling were made of crystal and the light reflecting off the crystal produced the illusion of dancing rainbows. Clapping her hands, she spun round and round totally delighted with the room, peace and joy oozed from its walls. Looking up, she saw a white crystal sword suspended in the air, its curved blade slicing the rainbow light, colorful jewels festooned its hilt. It was the most beautiful sword she had ever seen, she reached up and plucked it out of the air. She barely had time to register that it fit her hand perfectly, almost as if it had been made for her, before she felt herself being whisked away, whirling and spinning in a kaleidoscope of colors.
Landing on her feet, sword held high, she found herself standing in a great hallway filled with Dark Mages. Cole was to her left, his mouth wide open as if he had stopped speaking in mid- sentence. Ears ringing with silence, she stared at the dozens of eyes goggling at her. Gradually, a buzzing sound filled the room, followed by a crescendo of voices crashing over her. She swayed and Cole grasped her arm, yelling for quiet. Her eyes met Cole’s incredulous amber gaze, his face white with shock. As the crowd quieted, a dark robed figure seated at the table in the front of the room, walked forward and gestured for the sword. She tried to give it to him but the sword clung to her hand. She felt rather than heard the collective gasp that shook the room.
Stepping back, he said, “Allow me to introduce myself, Princess. My name is Tyror. I am the head of the Council of the Dark Mages. Would you mind telling us where you got that sword?”
Confused and a little scared, Riley swallowed. “Sorry. I did not mean to take the sword. It was so beautiful, I just wanted to hold it, but when I grasped the hilt, somehow I found myself here in this room.”
“Where did you find it?” Tyror asked.
“In a crystal room.”
Shouts greeted her words. “Silence!” Tryor held up his hand, his black eyes glittering with fury. He turned back to Riley. “You found the crystal room? How?”
Taking a deep breath, she quickly related her adventures in the maze. As she finished, Paisley rushed up, screaming. “Impossible. It is a trick. That is not the crystal sword.” She tried to wrest the sword from Riley’s hands.
The sword rose into the air, arced towards Paisley, sliced off one blond tendril of hair, then flew back towards Riley and nestled itself in her hand. Screaming as if her head had been cut off and not just a wisp of hair, Paisley fell to her knees clutching her head.
Tyror whirled towards Riley, face twisted in anger. “How dare you attack one of us?”
“I did not! The sword did. Stop shrieking Paisley, your fool head is still attached.”
Cole stepped forward. “Everyone please calm down. Tyror, I think we should dismiss the assembly and call a Council meeting in a couple of hours. Give everyone time to figure out what our next step should be.”
Tyror looked out at the crowd of Dark Mages, their voices still buzzing, faces mirroring a myriad of emotions. Still rigid with fury, he nodded, gave an imperceptible signal and the Dark Mages all vanished. He pulled the still crying Paisley to her feet, and they both disappeared.
Only Riley and Cole remained, swallowed by the vastness of the hall. Decked in marble walls, stained glass windows and a fresco covered ceiling, the hall wore its splendor well.
Looking around in awe, Riley exclaimed, “It’s magnificent.”
Cole nodded. “Yes. It is used for assemblies and great events. We convened an emergency assembly today to discuss how to get you out of the maze.” With a pointed look at the crystal sword in her hand, he continued, “Looks like we need not have bothered.”
She frowned. “Why is everyone getting so worked up about this sword? I’ve already explained that I did not mean to take it from the room. Here, take it, maybe you can return it to the crystal room.” She extended her hand but her fingers remained locked around the hilt. With the other hand she tried to pry them loose but they remained tightly clasped. Her eyes full of fear and confusion, she asked, “What is happening? Why can’t I let it go?”
“The sword chooses its holder. You will not be able to give it a
way. It belongs to you and it will act only to protect you.”
Her frown deepened. “What do you mean it belongs to me?”
“Take a seat. It is a long story.”
With an expectant expression on her face, she sat on a cushioned bench built into the window recess, the stained glass shining on her black air turned it into a riot of colors.
Cole started pacing, his expression grave, and in a sonorous voice began. “You hold in your hands the fabled crystal sword. Rumored to be hidden in the tower of the Dark Mages, many have sought it but all have failed. Some told stories of finding a crystal room with the sword suspended in the air but when they tried to grab it, the air held it fast and would not relinquish it.”
“So I was able to pluck it out of the air, what is the big deal?”
He stopped pacing, turned to face her and took a deep breath. “Legend has it that the sword grants the power of immortality to its holder.”
The implication hit her immediately. “Immortality? Does this mean that I cannot die in the epic battle? I would think that you would have tried to find the sword. Immortality practically guarantees victory.”
Cole shrugged, an enigmatic smile tugging at his lips. “Don’t automatically assume that your victory is guaranteed, Princess.”
Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What are you not telling me?”
He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her towards him. Bending his head, he crushed his mouth to hers. The kiss was brutal and rough, signaling his intent to punish and not to pleasure. Beating her fists against his chest, she tried to wrench herself from his grasp but he was immovable. His tongue probed her mouth bruising the soft flesh, and as she winced in pain, she felt his hands drop away, freeing her. Stepping back, she saw Cole standing motionless with the tip of the sword pressed against his throat, a trickle of blood oozing down his neck.
“Stop!” she yelled. And the sword, like a trained puppy obeyed, soared into the air and returned to her hand.”
“Are you okay? Did it hurt you?” she asked.
“I’ll live. Your pet sword just nicked me. Make sure you report back here for the Council meeting in two hours. And bring that demon sword with you.” He gave a curt bow and vanished.
Sighing, she sank to her knees, still clutching the sword, wondering what she was going to do. The sword was a problem. She could not get rid of it. She certainly did not want it. All the Dark Mages resented her for possessing it. Cole’s dark, cold fury scared her senseless. She had no allies here, no Max to offer advice. Alone, and frightened, she huddled in the great hall, a tiny speck of humanity guarded by a sword with a bloody tip.
Lost in despair, she almost missed the husky whisper. “You are not alone.”
Startled, she looked around but saw no one. Just as she was about to dismiss it as a figment of her imagination, the voice whispered again, “You are not alone. I will help you.” The voice spoke directly in her mind. She leapt to her feet as she realized that someone or something was communicating with her telepathically.
“Who are you? Where are you?” she asked silently, using her mind’s voice.
“My name is Shalimar. I am the sword.”
Startled, she almost dropped the sword. Staring at it, she shook her head in disbelief. She must be losing her mind. A talking sword? Impossible.
“Very possible.” The voice was whispery and feminine.
Half convinced that her mind was playing tricks on her, she asked, “Are you female?”
A trill of laughter echoed around the hall. “That is a very human question. My answer is this: I represent the feminine essence.” The sword leapt from her hand and sketched a lazy pirouette in the air.
“Why did you choose me? I do not want to be immortal. It is not a fair way to win the epic battle.”
Shalimar swooped low, hovering in front of her. “How do you know that Cole was not chosen?”
Riley rubbed her throbbing head. “What am I missing? You chose me not Cole.”
A stream of thoughts swirled through her mind, faster and faster, until one surfaced, shocking in its simplicity. Eyes wide, she stared at Shalimar. “Cole was chosen but by a different sword. Why did he not tell anyone? But how could there be two crystal swords? The legend speaks of only one. What does this all mean?”
Shalimar sighed. “You spend too much time asking questions when you should be listening instead. In stillness all will be revealed.”
It was Riley’s turn to sigh. “You sound like Max.”
“Rest now, Princess. You will need all your strength for the upcoming Council meeting. Trust that you will know what to do when the time is right.” Shalimar zoomed towards Riley and tapped her three times on the head. A wave of fatigue crashed over her, yawning, she curled up on the window seat and fell into a deep sleep.