by Katy Winter
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
The army of Baron/Kelt learned that should any creature try to suffocate or smother them they should immediately sink as low to the ground as they could so the cloud that attacked them made contact with the ground itself. It was something Air-wraiths couldn’t tolerate and made them recoil and take time to regain their form and initiative. If they touched the earth two or three times they risked complete dissipation, so before that happened they’d withdraw unable to fight again. But people were warned Air-wraiths came from nowhere and were strong. Reaction had to be instant as the Wraiths began to envelop their prey. The army looked apprehensive.
Succubi, they learned, were difficult to detect as they could shape change, as Jepaul and Javen could testify. But they hated steel and revealed themselves if touched by it or any metal, so carrying knives was a sensible precaution and gave defenders a chance. Men were shown how a Succubus could be disabled before it began to suck but that was all. Anyone encountering them had to be quick and needed the immediate help of others to assist with slashing off appendages. There were looks of revulsion at that but it was firmly in everybody’s mind that if help was required then it had to be instantly given. There was mutual dependence. This was constantly reinforced.
The Cefors made the army shudder. They’d already lost people to the creatures and were pathetically grateful to be told that the mimoses, other creatures strange but allied to them, were very powerful and had a profound and ancient loathing of Cefors. They’d chosen to deal with them. They were ancient foes.
The Doms didn’t speak much of the Maekwies other than to say that they sought prey by panicking people then picking them off one by one to drain them. They, too, had ancient links to Shalah but the Doms didn’t go into detail, nor did they discuss other creatures that would appear, sooner or later. All leaders had to know was that all these creatures answered to the Nedru who seemed to Shalahs to be omnipotent, malevolent and untouchable. Though they said nothing, the word ‘Nedru’ engendered deep-seated dread in people especially now it was known that it was they, masquerading as the Red Councils, who had writhlings.
And it was they who had ensured forced, agonised insertions in not only their servants, the Varen, but also into anyone unlucky enough to come into their spheres of control. Many in the army had endured having to watch family members coerced to the ground and forcibly inserted with a loathsome winking thing that first controlled then devoured its host. Many more had seen, not just Varen, but all peoples of Shalah collapse, foaming in death throes on the battlefield, and the sight of a metalan then feeding on it’s host corpse was unspeakable and abhorrent. And all knew, if they were captured, their fate would be the same. It was chilling. And all realised that the battles fought so far were only a prelude to what came.
What became apparent to the Doms as the days passed was that one of the gates of the five was certainly not fully closed. They sensed increased numbers of Maekwies and other hellions who they knew must have inched their way through the gap, however small it was. The reinforcements might be slow in coming but they were inevitable. None of the Doms expressed a wish to activate either the Ariel or the key without need, because they knew Sh’Bane would utilise any gate. Once one gate opened fully, the Doms realised the consequences where others had no inkling. So they had to wait. What they did was again disappear for short periods. They reported Huyuks were becoming visible and creatures like Cilikas were sighted. Sapphire and Quon looked grave.
Sapphire called on the Water-people, blue and green forms who rose from oceans, lakes, rivers and lagoons. They hated the Cilikas and those like them. They were all completely different and Sapphire always had a struggle to keep them cohesive in attack because they tended to suddenly become liquid and irridescent. Like Sapphire, they had long flowing hair but opalescent aqua eyes that were mesmerising. Not only that, they were extremely powerful, sinuous and dangerous when roused as now. They never took prisoners.
Water creatures who opposed Sapphire were shown no mercy whatsoever. The Water-people began to walk on land. They could comfortably breathe air but not over long periods when they’d then sink below the surface of water wherever it was before reappearing. They began to attack those whom they suspected of aiding the Red Councils. The battle for Dom Water had begun. They began confrontations with the Cilikas.
Wind Dancer called on his Storm-riders and Cloud-walkers. The Storm-riders were dark. They had cropped raven locks, their eyes were so dark brown they were almost obsidian and their bodies were very long and wiry like Dancer’s. They carried thunderbolts that they used expertly and to devastating effect when in battle and they shot lightning from both their fingers and from weapons attached to their belts. They allied themselves with the Water-people to create floods and torrents when required: they were also related to them.
The Cloud-walkers were small and solid, pale-skinned with even paler eyes that seemed to impale any who looked directly at them. They combined with the Storm-riders to create rain, sleet, hail and snow and they also assisted with the creation of violent and turbulent winds that buffeted foes and often knocked them from the sky. Now they silently awaited Dancer’s call.
Ebon called to the Fire-giants, very large menacing men with heads of flame that licked about them from head to toe and transferred to foes in an instant. They carried flaming torches that threw flares incinerating whatever they touched. Where they trod became ash. They were family of the Storm-riders and transferred lightning or absorbed it to deflect it elsewhere and they created fire anywhere. They were truly frightening to behold and they waited for the Huyuks.
Quon knew the Huyuks. They’d created havoc more than once on Shalah when they erupted with violent force. Freed again, giant men rose threateningly, their footsteps such they shook the very foundations of Shalah. After each step came pools of molten, bubbling mud in scalding pools that deliberately drowned whoever was around them. Now Quon, through the aegis of the Venes, knew the Huyuks had broken through Shalah’s crust and were active once again.
It was Jepaul who told the Doms more Maekwies were through on Shalah, his and Cadran’s jewellery flaring and Knellen’s premonition strong, but it was only when the jewellery began to blaze and actually hurt Cadran and Jepaul that the two sought the Doms. Knellen had already got to them, the Companions close behind.
“Knellen!” gasped Cadran, a hand grasping at his throat.
Knellen crossed to him.
“I know, young one. Demons, but I know!”
The Doms hurried to the two younger men, as did the Companions, the Doms with their hands immediately to the jewellery that at their touch became less bright and the heat abated.
“Demons!” breathed Ebon, finally standing back with the others. “He must be so close!”
“He is,” murmured Jepaul, sinking into a chair. “He tries to touch me.”
“Through the gate, Jepaul?”
“Very close to it, Quon. It feels as if he may soon be here.”
“He can’t,” stated Sapphire. “He hasn’t the Ariel or the key.”
“No,” agreed Dancer tiredly, “but he must feel very confident to be actually waiting for the gates to open. He must still think the Red Council have book and key.”
“Then the challenges are near.” Quon’s voice was dispirited but he managed a reassuring smile at Jepaul.
“Not just him and the Riders,” uttered Knellen in a strangled voice. “Demons, Doms! What are they?”
“Describe your farsight,” urged Dancer. “Quickly!”
“They fly, Dancer. They have barbed tails, big heads with jaws that sometimes flame and mouths full of pointed teeth, rows of them. Their eyes are gaping holes. Their bodies are long and sinuous and they use their tails to lash and disable. They look like fiends from hell! Their wings are black. Ah, demons, what are they?”
It was clear that Knellen was temporarily unable to control his farsight. He began to shake. It was Saracen who crossed to him and gripped his han
ds.
“Answer to me, Knellen. You need a Grohol to help ground you!”
“Saracen!” whispered Knellen, white-lipped. “Saracen.”
Saracen gently drew Knellen to a chair and made the Varen sit as he spoke softly and very calmly. Slowly, Knellen’s eyes cleared and he murmured his gratitude to Saracen who stayed crouched next to him, still speaking in a low, slow manner.
“Sabbiths!” hissed Sapphire, his eyes like ice. “How far away are they, Saracen?”
Saracen spoke quietly to Knellen who nodded then shook his head.
“Can you tell us any more, my friend?”
Knellen nodded again and responded to Saracen with an effort.
“North Shalah.”
“We have little time,” said Quon curtly. “A gate must have opened wider than we thought.” He looked at Saracen. “Can you ask if Sh’Bane is through?”
“Knellen, is Sh’Bane through?”
“No,” answered Cadran, Jepaul and Knellen in concert.
“But he’s at the gate, Quon,” reminded Jepaul.
“Waiting,” snarled Ebon.
“Then it’s indisputably time,” responded Quon, a note of deepest sadness in his voice.
“Indeed, old friend,” concurred Sapphire gently, a hand down to Quon’s suddenly stooped shoulder.
Jepaul went to his mentor and crouched beside him.
“I’m here, Quon. You once said to me, ‘believe, Jepaul, believe’. Do you remember?”
“Very clearly, young one.”
“Then I say that to you now. You, and all the others here, brought me to this and I ask you all to believe as I did and as I still do.”
“Jepaul,” whispered Quon, a hand going out to the younger man.
“I’m Spirit, Quon, in totality. I’m as one with you. It’s not like before with Islasahn. We’ve learned from that and will stay bonded through whatever comes and to the end whatever it may be.” Jepaul hesitated. “Quon, you know the staff speaks to me?” Quon nodded. “And the runes touch the heart of me?” Quon nodded again. “Well, now I sense Islasahn is very close or a part of her is, a trace of spirit maybe, that calls to me. She too waits for me. I know this.”
“And Sh’Bane?”
“Him, too.”
Quon’s hand gripped Jepaul’s tightly.
“I believe, Jepaul. I promise you that.”
The others nodded affirmation.
“We need to find the first gate,” murmured Jepaul. He missed the Doms’ startled expressions.
“Now?” asked Ebon.
“Soon.” Jepaul glanced down at Quon. “Very, very soon, Quon. The staff speaks again.”
Quon smiled up at the younger man, his expression softened.
“Then you must answer it, young one. Indeed you must.”
While the Red Council army firmly entrenched itself and skirmishes outside Baron/Kelt began, the Doms and Companions, five of each, quietly exited the city unnoticed. They knew the onset of battle was only a matter of hours away and already fighting was under way across approaches to the city, Huyuks close and Cilikas striding the land. Other creatures were with them. The Doms called on their own from across Shalah who now began to descend or appear, en masse, still waiting. Prior orders from the Doms to elite army commanders were known and understood. Their return to the city was an eventuality the Doms hoped for but wouldn’t confirm. The Doms wore decidedly sombre expressions. No one spoke.
The group halted not far from Baron/Kelt in a lush valley of broad-leaved trees and carpeted under swathes of spring flowers nodding sleepily in dappled sunlight. It was a pretty and restful scene. The group sat together, talking, their voices low and earnest, before the Doms, at last, rose and stood close together in silence. As they did a nimbus formed about them before their shapes faded. Then, within minutes, the Companions became coalescing silhouettes before they too were gone.
They all re-united in the outer aethyr where they stayed unmoving. That was until suddenly the Doms’ staffs came to life to illuminate the dark forms that held them, the staffs covered with writhing, blazing runes in multiple colours. Jepaul’s shone brightest. At that instant came an answer. A challenge echoed with sheer menace from across the void as Sh’Bane and his Riders emerged from blackness: their staffs flamed in response. At their appearance Jepaul’s staff faded.
“Maquat Doms!” boomed Sh’Bane in tones of amusement. “After so long too! As only the Four you utter a challenge to me and mine? What folly is this? Or is it desperation?”
“We’re re-united, Sh’Bane,” answered Quon.
“Such a sad old man!” mocked Sh’Bane. “And with such delusions! The Four only!”
His Riders gave hollow laughs that echoed eerily in space.
“Maybe,” responded Quon, “but we don’t foolishly challenge you. We know what we have to do. We had to try before and then we did succeed.”
“Only so far, Earth, only so far. I left many behind me who are again ready to assist in taking Shalah. It was really only a matter of time as it turns out: the destruction of the world you inhabit is foregone. And you ignored all those left there for so long, you fools. Didn’t you even recognise my servants, the Nedru? Were you so blind or did you prefer not to see?”
“No,” replied Ebon. “We were blind perhaps, Quon less so, but we were also tired after battling for so long. You may have been pushed from Shalah but you left a potent, draining legacy.”
“Of course!” agreed Sh’Bane entertained. “And I gave orders to my servants. They obeyed them. They corrupted the Cynases and destroyed the Order with all its beliefs and adherents. Thorough and efficient too. I don’t choose poor tools. They created their own servants in time – the Varen you call them. And I brought them the metalans, delightful little destructive creatures they are. And all through this, over aeons, you slept!”
Sh’Bane’s laugh was deep.
“Not all of us,” grated Dancer.
“No. Earth wandered, didn’t you, Earth, and sensed things had begun to go wrong for you and Shalah?”
“Yes.”
“And you tried, ineffectually, to warn, but you didn’t fully comprehend the depth or complexity of my intended revenge, did you?”
“Not entirely,” came Quon’s honest answer. “The child you sought alerted us most.”
“Him!” came the dismissive response. “And through the corruption of so many the Nedru could begin the cruel manipulation of all the pathetic species on Shalah, especially with the non-reappearance of the Progenitor. He ruled Shalah. Now, through my minions, I do, through the Nedru.”
“Yes, they’ve been very successful. You should be proud of them.”
“They even found the key to the gates. Did you know they have it?”
“Yes, we found out.”
“Ah, did you indeed. Ashken’s end was sublime, wasn’t it?” There was no response. “And the Nedru used it to open this gate where we are now to let more of my minions through.”
“Yes, we know. Maekwies, among others, come.”
“Look behind me, Doms!” invited Sh’Bane, a sneer in his voice. He gestured and immediately a host of Sabbiths appeared, their lips drawn back to reveal rows of razor sharp teeth that gleamed through the darkness. “You can’t stop them, Maquats!”
“Not at this moment,” acquiesced Sapphire icily.
“Not ever, you silly old blue fool,” came the contemptuous retort. “They’ll filter through this gate soon, my old friends, to join those who await them.”
“Have you spoken to the Nedru lately?” asked Ebon chattily.
“There’s been no reason to,” came the tart reply. “You mustn’t take me for a fool,” he went on, his voice chiding.
“They’ve lost the Ariel.”
“I told them to find it. Doubtless, they have.”
“You need it to open the gates,” reminded Sapphire.
“I will get it.”
“That may be difficult,” suggested Dancer
.
“I think not,” was the haughty response.
“You’re held at the fifth gate, Sh’Bane.” It was Quon who spoke, quite quietly.
“Until we open the others, that’s so. It’s a mere formality and only a matter of time. I am, as you know, remarkably patient, but you challenged and I answer. See the first stairs, Maquats!”
As Sh’Bane spoke, his and his Riders’ staffs flared and the Doms’ did so likewise in response, but only the Four. The Companions were well-nigh invisible as they closely surrounded Jepaul. The light from all the staffs illuminated a vaulted narrow passage. It was almost an aisle up which wound endless stairs such as the Doms once saw Jepaul, syns ago, climb with trembling limbs in a savage trial for a boy who nearly died. The image stayed with the Doms now. The Riders about Sh’Bane were gone.
“Kwarel awaits one of you, Maquats. You know who answers to him.”
“Yes,” came Dancer’s deep voice. “I will issue the challenge to Kwarel. I am Air.”
One Rider reappeared.
“I will accept the challenge from my opposite. I am mutable.”
“You can’t stay for the challenge, Sh’Bane. You’re not through.”
Sh’Bane rumbled with ill-concealed mirth.
“I can’t stay certainly, but listen well, old friends. I’ll be waiting at the fifth gate and as each of my Riders meets and defeats his opposite, one by one, the final gate will open. Shalah will belong to me.”
“Not so.”
“No?” Jepaul moved out from the shadow of the Companions. “Show yourself!” snarled Sh’Bane. His Rider fell back momentarily startled; his horse shied.
“Know me , Sh’Bane. You wanted me. You tried to take me but the Doms got me to the Island, as you know. As do all Doms, we answer to Salaphon. You sensed me when I left the Island and tracked me. Didn’t you sense my power?”
Sh’Bane saw the light play on Jepaul’s dense curls, his head afire with copper tints.
“One of the Progenitor’s line! How enchanting! So you’re fully an adherent of the Island, are you? I congratulate you on your success but I can’t see you clearly. Whose staff do you hold, boy?”
Jepaul went close to the Doms. United, they blazed, their staffs with an incandescent glow.
“I am Jepaul.” When Jepaul was fully revealed the Doms saw the incredulous expression come to Sh’Bane’s face. He knew he looked on the Progenitor himself. It was uncanny. “You’ll know me when you see me closely.”
“The Progenitor himself come back to life! Ah, boy, I could use you.”
“As he used you.” Jepaul saw Sh’Bane’s face darken. “I’m not just of the Progenitor’s line you hoped to take and manipulate to your will. Know me! Look at me!”
“The Maekwies spoke of your resemblance so now I can judge for myself.”
Sh’Bane stared again at the young man in the circle of light cast by the light from the Doms’ staffs. Jepaul was motionless, his expression distant. He sensed Sh’Bane’s astonishment, chagrin and disbelief. But over-riding all was a very deep and welling surge of anger that the Doms and Salaphon had managed to conceal this young man’s origins so well.
Indeed, Jepaul seemed to be the Progenitor. His looks and physique confirmed it. He was proud, erect and unflinching. Sh’Bane was taken back to when he was discovered by the Progenitor and he recalled the promises that were made to him then but were never honoured. He was betrayed long ago. He thought, too, of the ancient oath of obedience and allegiance coerced from him in blood. Now he roared, his head flung back. From darkness his Riders roared in unison. Finally, his voice throbbing with fury, he spoke again.
“How can you be his image so many aeons beyond his time?”
“I don’t know,” answered Jepaul with a faint, disinterested shrug.
“And how much of his power have you, child?”
Sh’Bane made a quick gesture, then threw a red bolt of light at Jepaul. Jepaul raised a hand and deflected it. Sh’Bane considered him. He again made a gesture that sent a cloying nimbus of redness to envelop Jepaul. Jepaul simply stepped beyond it. Sh’Bane growled. And Shalah shook.
“Are you the Progenitor reincarnated?”
“No. From what I know of him I am not.”
“You have power. Allied we could rule worlds.”
“I have no wish to rule.”
“Nonsense,” came the irritated response. “The Progenitor had power and used it. You can’t be so unlike.”
“I am.”
‘“I don’t believe it, child! No one could be so like him and have power and refrain from enjoying it. We all do, within our limitations.”
“Know me better then, Sh’Bane, for I’m more than of the Progenitor’s line and my looks count for nothing.”
Sh’Bane glowered balefully at the very tall form with a staff held in its hands, his expression thunderous.
“What are you then, young fool?”
Jepaul slowly raised the staff that stayed quiescent.
“I trained on the Island. You answer me!”
Jepaul held his staff aloft. It became alight with swirling runes and blinding brightness.
“Whose staff is it you hold, child? It looks familiar but may well be only a pretty toy.”
Jepaul brandished the staff around above his head. The Doms immediately became a nimbus of changing, coalescing colours, Jepaul’s whiteness outstanding before it faded.
“Are you Elemental?” Sh’Bane demanded in ferocious accents. “Answer me!”
“I am Spirit. You will answer to me!”
“You’re a child playing at being a Dom,” scoffed Sh’Bane, relaxing. “Whose is the staff?”
“The staff belonged to Islasahn.”
“It’s not possible!” bellowed Sh’Bane. “She lost it. I took her with me.”
“Jepaul found it,” explained Quon indifferently. “They were drawn to each other as you can now understand.”
Sh’Bane glowered at Jepaul.
“So you’re the fifth Elemental?”
“Yes, I am. I’m Spirit/Quintessence.”
“We’re whole, Sh’Bane, after so long, even more than we were.”
Sh’Bane turned his baleful glare on Quon.
“We’ll see about that!” he promised, his lips drawn back in a snarl.
Jepaul spoke calmly.
“I will challenge you, Sh’Bane, as you challenge us.”
“Where’s the Progenitor?”
“I neither know nor care.”
“You don’t have the key,” taunted Sh’Bane, his expression still black.
“We do,” explained Ebon.
Sh’Bane’s roar of unrequited rage shook the aethyr and Shalah felt it as a roll of thunder while the very ground shook.
“How did you get it?”
“Ways and means. We also have the Ariel so you see we can and will challenge you, Sh’Bane,” murmured Quon.
“How did you know the boy was Spirit?”
“It became apparent over the syns. Salaphon knew.”
“Then we’ll see how such ancient Doms acquit themselves and how a youth, with no experience and probably little knowledge, can handle us! Let the challenges begin, Maquat Doms!”
