Free Frostborn: The Broken Mage by Jonathan Moeller Page B

tunnel sloped downward, and began to cut back and forth as it descended deeper into the bones of the mountain. Calliande found her attention wandering, and forced her weary mind to focus upon her surroundings. They had not had much chance to rest at the Travelers’ House, and their journey across the Vale of Stone Death had been tiring and dangerous. She could not help but admire how Ridmark showed no sign of fatigue, even though he had to be exhausted.
    Her lip twitched a little. Morigna had to be exhausted, too, after what…
    Calliande banished the thought. It was not a worthy one, though a petty, jealous part of her wanted to brood upon it further. 
    “Keeper,” said Antenora. “Is anything amiss?”
    “What?” said Calliande, jerking out of her thoughts. “No, I am sorry. I am tired, that is all. My mind wandered.” 
    “This is a dangerous place,” said Antenora. “An ill one for wandering thoughts, if you forgive my presumption.” 
    “There is no presumption,” said Calliande. “Not when you are correct. Tell me. Are there any places like Khald Azalar upon Old Earth?” A conversation would help keep Calliande’s mind from wandering. She also wanted to learn more about this strange woman who called herself the Keeper’s apprentice.
    “Like this?” said Antenora. “No, not precisely. The engineering prowess of the dwarves is very great.” 
    “Thank you,” called Caius from where he walked next to Ridmark. 
    “It is only in the last century that the sciences of the men of Old Earth permitted anything like this,” said Antenora, waving her free hand at the wall. “The great empires of Old Earth used places such as this to house their most terrible weapons of war, machines that could turn a city to ash in the blink of an eye. Or so I think. I…may have seen such a place once, but it has faded from my memory.” 
    “I know the feeling,” said Calliande. “Better than I might wish.” 
    “Yes,” said Antenora. “Still, I did not intend to damage my memory. You removed yours on purpose, Keeper. I do not understand why.”
    Calliande shrugged. “I do not fully understand myself. I think it was because of Shadowbearer.”
    “Shadowbearer?” said Antenora.
    “An archmage of the high elves,” said Calliande. “He forsook his people and turned to follow Incariel, a mighty demon bound into the darkness. The dark elves worshipped Incariel, as did the dvargir, and the Enlightened of Incariel are a cult among the men of Andomhaim that worship Incariel even now. They’ve tried to kill us repeatedly.” They had also tried to take the empty soulstone in the pouch at Calliande’s belt more than once. 
    “Why did Shadowbearer make you remove your memory?” said Antenora.
    “Because he brought the Frostborn to Andomhaim the first time,” said Calliande. “I don’t know how, but I must have known he would try again in a few centuries, when the alignment of the thirteen moons allowed him to open a gate to their world. He might succeed this time, too. The men of Andomhaim would forget the danger, they would grow complacent and careless. When the Frostborn returned, they would not be ready. So I had to warn them. I knew dangerous secrets, so I removed my memory and hid it with my staff, and put myself into a magical sleep below the Tower of Vigilance. Apparently I planned to awaken on the day of the conjunction, reclaim my staff and my memories, and stop Shadowbearer from summoning the Frostborn.” She shook her head. “Perhaps it was utter hubris.” 
    “Perhaps not,” said Antenora. “Men are easily corrupted. I am so old, Keeper…and time and time again I have seen tyrants overthrown, only for the liberators in turn to become crueler than the defeated tyrant. Why should the men of Andomhaim be any different?”
    “A bleak assessment,” said Caius from the front. 
    “But I fear it is an accurate one,” said Arandar. He had sheathed Heartwarden, likely to spare Ridmark the