Oblivion's Queen

by M. H. Johnson

  Raphael nodded grimly. “I had not realized just how bad it had gotten until I lost my own friend to it. Not only does my heart grieve, but cold logic dictates that Krona will lose its best and brightest, if all those competent men realize that their life expectancy will be far longer fleeing our capital for more welcoming lands.”

  “And taking all our secrets,” Malek laughed mirthlessly. “Those fools in Council better get their heads straight and do something, or they will have only themselves to blame when their best servitors end up working for their competitors living in Velheim and our more distant neighbors.”

  Lord Velice gazed at Malek in surprise at his outburst, the table entire murmuring at his bold declaration.

  Malek's gaze turned dark. “If I see foulness, I will call it. No games or pussyfooting about. We all see how well that has served us so far.”

  Jess shook her head. And to think, her Malek had scolded her for speaking dangerous thoughts aloud, just moments ago.

  It was the bard himself who chuckled at Malek's declaration. “And 'lest we forget, young Malek de Sousel, a Guild-acknowledged Delver, has just risked his life helping to save the duke himself, and is under no small amount of influence from having skirted forces that would send a normal soul screaming with madness. In other words, he is half in dream or, if you will, most innocently in his cups.”

  The duke chuckled good-naturedly. “Far be it for us to take to heart the words said by a warrior drunk on poppy for pain. I shall not gainsay young Malek, he who ventured into the madness of Shadow of his own volition for my family's sake.”

  Malek grimaced but dipped his head, Jess clinking cups and smacking his shoulder, her soft words coldly sober “You speak as bold as I, brother mine. Let us be glad we have a bard as sympathetic witness, this eve.”

  Raphael raised his cup in Malek's honor. “To the brother of my heart, bold and outspoken as he may be.” The son of the duke drank and all followed suit, and no more was said on the matter as he continued. “And there we were, facing Lord Fal, Lord Soldner, and one vile serpent of a man I shall leave unnamed, the very man who had been masterminding my father's downfall for years, he claimed, just so he could get a cut of the spoils when our trade empire came crashing down.”

  Raphael grimaced and shook his head. “I get ahead of myself. In any event, with little explanation save the gloating assurance that we would be made to suffer beyond human comprehension, they dragged all three of us; myself, Father, and my beloved, down to what I surmise was the cellar. Strangely, the hallways were absent of any house guards or staff that I saw.” Raphael paused to take a sip of wine, his hand visibly shaking. “They had us stripped naked, after they forced Father to sign numerous documents.”

  Duke diOnni nodded. "The rats threatened not just me, but harm to poor Josie and my son, if I did not acquiesce without struggle."

  Raphael sipped his wine once more, as if for strength. “We descended these steps. Endless. And the walls, covered with sigils and glyphs, the meanings of which I can scarce fathom, save that gazing upon them made my guts roil as if with illness, and as we neared the foot of that twisted staircase, those sigils seemed almost to writhe of their own accord.”

  Christoff shook his head. "Diabolic magics, I have no doubt. Only they could enter Shadow without Delver's blood coursing through their veins.

  Lute gazed at the young man speculatively. "You and I should talk someday soon, young Christoff de Velice."

  Christoff coughed in startlement, even as Lute turned to Raphael once more, gesturing for him to continue.

  "In any event, we went where those three bastards led, not that we had any choice, tied up with blades at our throats, and were seated upon three stout chairs. It was then that those infernal mages entered the awful chamber." Raphael paled in remembrance. "They wore hooded robes the color of dried blood. And their gazes reminded me of nothing so much as serpents, even as they smiled at Father and I, before they brought forth those three girls and, well, skinned them alive. Before our very eyes."

  Raphael looked suddenly sick, and he was not the only one wincing as if in sudden pain.

  “Are you all right, my lord?” Lute politely asked.

  Raphael grimaced for but a moment before nodding, softly continuing. "The poor girls. By the gods, their screams. They echo through my mind, even now. In any event, the five infernalists drew a pentagram from the girl's bleeding flesh, before nailing them to that awful sigil. Each of the vile monsters then began chanting words of such foulness I cannot even say the sounds aloud, or think it, lest I wish to wretch once more."

  Raphael pressed on, his gaze suddenly locked upon Jess's own.

  "That vile Lord Fal, crowing about how he had us defeated, about how his underlings were summoning some terrible lord of the netherhells to feast upon our very souls." Raphael's hand reached out for Josie, she grabbing his own and squeezing tight, her face pale with remembered horror.

  "That's when the light of heaven itself seemed to burst upon us. For our friends, somehow, by some angel's mercy, had found us."

  Raphael smiled. Jess gazed speechlessly at the tears running unabashedly down his cheeks. “Jessica and Malek saved us. Like avenging angels sent from the heavens, fully armored and eyes alight with virtuous wrath, never had I been so happy to see them in all my life.”

  Jess flushed and looked away, unable to bear the adoration she saw in her friend's gaze, recalling all too well how deeply she had embraced her own savage nature that evening, how fiercely she had reveled in her blade cleaving her enemies' flesh, baptized by their blood, their awful screams a dark symphony to the wrath that had filled her. How she had exulted in their terror.

  “They bandied words with those foul lords, Jess being so bold as to declare them tools of her own great game, and her eyes seemed to blaze like fire in truth, her smile the madcap grin of a warrior of fable about to take on an entire army. Fearless, that's what she was.”

  Josie nodded solemnly, also pinning a suddenly flushing Jess with her gaze.

  “It was enough,” Josie said. “She terrified them. I could feel it. Feel her potency. Feel their sudden fear of her. How it distracted those vile wizards trying so hard to summon demons, a sin to their very souls. And in their moment of uncertainty, Jess and Malek struck.”

  Raphael nodded. "It was brilliant. Sheer bloody brilliant. They cleaved through them like a scythe through a melon patch, bursting through their numbers with such violent savagery that our foes got off but a single spell, I think, before Jess and Malek had, well, cut them down."

  “Our young heroes were swift and thorough in their justice,” the duke concurred, “and I wonder even now if perhaps they were touched by the hand of providence, given grace enough to save the handful of flawed, unworthy souls you see before you now.”

  Lute gazed curiously at Jess and Malek both. “Truly, you both seem remarkably uninjured, after taking on a quintet of black wizards.”

  Jess flashed a cold grin. "I had cowed them. Infected their minds with fear. Then, in their moment of greatest uncertainty, we struck without pause. That one or two managed an easily deflected spell is of no moment. What matters is that all five fell to our blades."

  Malek nodded. “Damn right, shieldsister.”

  Lute flashed a knowing smile, as if knowing that Jess was dodging the heart of his question, but choosing to accept it. “And that is when your bold Delver friends finished your rescue, young Raphael?”

  A solemn nod. “It was a sight to behold, how rapidly those treacherous serpents shed their skins of mocking arrogance, revealing the true cowardice at their hearts, their five compatriots shriveling to husks of ash at Jess and Malek's feet, even as our champions approached those fallen lords.” Raphael smiled coldly. “I will admit to a certain dark satisfaction in seeing Lord Fal with face wiped clean of his intolerable smirk, begging and pleading for his very life but moments after he had gloated so insufferably about having us all under his thumb.”

  Duke diOnni n
odded. “He did get the opportunity to make some restitution, at the end. But, as Jess and Malek so wisely pointed out, serpents like that cannot be allowed to strike unawares a second time.”

  Raphael chuckled dryly. "That damn Lord Soldner got the duel he so deserved, after so cruelly running poor Allen through."

  “Ah, there was a duel then?” Lute seemed strangely interested, gazing at Jess.

  Jess shrugged and nodded. “Indeed. Lord Soldner stood at ready. Malek had our backs covered, and you must understand, we were riding on passions I can scarce describe now, words utterly unnecessary. Lord Soldner was allowed the honor of one last duel.” Jess's smile turned cold. “One that ended far quicker than he might have thought.”

  Raphael nodded. "Indeed. Our Jess seized the initiative faster than you can blink, her blade snapping forward with a deadly grace the match of any fencer, slamming into Soldner's desperately raised side-sword and what must have been an armored hat, for we all heard the ring of dented steel, and foul Lord Soldner had time not even to stumble back before Jessica's pommel shattered every tooth in that fool's face, before her slashing blade tore out his throat." Raphael swallowed, shaken by his own accounting of the visceral battle he had witnessed firsthand, for all that his words were filled with praise for Jess. "And that was the end of Lord Soldner, allowed a few final moments to appreciate the folly of running my friend through, even as he died in that little pit of Hell."

  Lute nodded. “Justice, well served. And the three girls my compatriot brought to the Guildhall. Were those the same three girls who had been, how did you put it, skinned alive?”

  Josie shuddered and nodded. “Jess. She, she and Malek pulled them out of that vile pentagram, even as something... horrible tried to break through.”

  Josie's solemn gaze locked upon Jess, pinning her, even as the young healer continued to speak. “Jess charged into it. Straight into that vile, glowing pentagram. I heard her laugh like a madwoman. I thought her charging to her death.”

  A disbelieving shake of her head. “Instead, I heard a hideous scream and for a moment, but for a moment, it was as if I saw Jess fighting in Hell itself.” Josie shuddered, turning into Raphael's comforting embrace, overwhelmed by the words she had spoken. She murmured softly then.

  Raphael smiled and looked up. “Somehow our dear Jess managed to rupture that awful bridge between our realms. I saw her shatter the pentagram myself.” Raphael gave a bemused tilt of his head. “I know you have a way with wood, my Jess. I did not know you could rupture stone as well.”

  Jess blinked, flustered. “It was laden with diabolical wards. The stone shattered in sympathy as the vile magic was cleaved free of this realm.”

  Lord diOnni nodded gently, seeing the state of poor Josie. "It was then that our remarkable pair of ladies managed to heal those three gravely wounded girls. After which we took care of the two remaining lords, and here we are before you now, good Lute."

  Lute smiled and bowed his head. “A wonderful account, Your Grace. And I have no doubt that the world is a better place with those infernalists gone, justice dispensed while trapped in Shadow. For now it is as if they had never been. Your clan saved, and a dire plot averted by two Spring Delvers already performing feats worthy of song and celebration!”

  Jess and Malek bowed their heads in solemn appreciation for the compliment before digging in to the late night repast Alex's father had prepared for them, Jess finding herself increasingly overcome with weariness, as invigorated as she had felt in sharing all the details with the gently attentive bard, for all that this might be one tale best kept out of the public sphere.

  Jess allowed herself the smallest smile. “And that bloody mercenary of a noble, Lord Soldner, baiting some poor child to accept a duel, then running him through, all to keep hidden the secret of Pomell, where we fear all sorts of dark goings-on might be occurring." She gazed carefully at the solemn-faced bard. "I know the Guild has access to many secrets, much lost lore. And for all that I am torn in my allegiance, my first and foremost must always be to Erovering and the world of Dawn herself. So I think it is time, high time, we brought the Guild into the fold of our adventure." Jess paused a moment, gazing at each of their friends, Malek nodding solemnly, Josie and Raphael as well, only Alex looking frustrated before sighing and nodding at last.

  "You are right, Jess. This is too important to keep close to our vest. For all that we have been here for but a couple of days, still far too many spheres are in play for this not to be the most dire of situations. At this point, we need all the help we can get for the sake of Dawn, whatever the case may be for poor Highrock."

  Jess gave a relieved nod, glad her friends understood. She turned to the gently attentive Lute. “I have no doubt that you are something of a scholar yourself, bard of the Guild that you are. I don't suppose by any chance you know the location of Pomell?”

  Lute blinked. "I am afraid not, dear Jess," the man smiled apologetically. "For all that I am grateful, truly grateful that you have chosen to trust me and the Guild entire with your confidences." He tilted his head. "Pomell. That name does ring a bell, however. Hmm... perhaps we have common cause, after all." He blinked, seeing Alex's horrified expression.

  “No need to look so distressed, young Alex de Velice, you yourself having dipped your own toes into that mysterious realm of Shadow and dream. I sense that perhaps my brethren and you might seek similar prizes. Is that the source of your hesitation? Is there an artifact your school seeks that is, how shall we say it, in play?” His gentle laughter put Jess at ease even as Alex grimaced, as if it were naught but the friendliest of games they spoke of. “Dear Alex, please understand. All other factors aside, in those causes that truly matter, we are all perfectly aligned. The safety and preservation of Erovering and Dawn itself must come before all else. So come, let us put aside any other fears or differences, pool our resources, and find the location of this Pomell together, shall we?”

  Alex and Jess exchanged solemn nods. Alex sighed and addressed the bard directly. “What we seek, good bard, is nothing less than the Wand of Dreams, and the Chalice of Absolution. They have both been seized by what we fear are diabolists, and I know that the location of at least one is in the town that was once known as Pomell, a place that seems to have been wiped out of human memory entirely.”

  And never, that entire night, had Jess felt so close to fear as at that very moment, the bard's veneer of suave charm cracking, face raw with undisguised horror.

  “By all the gods,” he whispered. “The Chalice of Absolution. The Wand of Nightmares. Both in play.”

  A sudden pause, the room entire gazing at the pale-faced bard. Jess swallowed, her throat suddenly dry as parchment. For a Guild member to be so shaken boded ill indeed.

  Duke diOnni's gaze became one of grave concern. "Good Lute, I beg of you, tell us what troubles you so? We have spoken of horrors beyond the pale this eve, and your composure cracked not an iota, solid man that you are. Yet the thought of these two artifacts together... your expression is worth a thousand words, my friend, and none of them good."

  The bard's gaze was grim. “This is no madcap adventure we Delve in now, Your Grace, but a quest for Erovering itself. For with the Wand and Chalice both in play, it can mean only one thing. Some fool seeks to do that which flies against the will of the very Founder, and in so doing, risks the end of all things.”

  Jess felt her heart race, dreading what she knew would next be said.

  “Bloody hells, what does that even mean?” Malek pled. “Tell us, good bard, we must know what we face!” Jess caught Lute's haunted gaze, feeling a thrill of horror, desperately needing to know, for all that she dreaded the answer.

  “What it means, young Delver, assuming that there is any truth to the old tomes I regret having once studied so avidly, is that those fools seek to summon into corporeal form one who must remain nameless, her very existence forbidden by the will of Dawn's Founder, if the legends hold true.”

  “Tell me her name!�
� Jess roared, horrified at her own words, even as the bard shook, gazing at Jess with the oddest expression.

  Jess dreaded what the man would next say.

  Dreaded it, even as she was desperate to know if the terrible smile that had gazed back at her in too many nightmares she dared not remember was anything more than a horrific flight of fancy.

  "My Lady Calenbry. These diabolists seek nothing less than to summon forth Ancient Lilith, queen of Hell, daughter of he who first shed blood in Heaven, catalyzing the great Fall, endless ages ago."

  “Bloody fool, to say such words aloud!” Twilight roared, even as Jess screamed, gripping her chair tightly to keep from swooning, the room entire seeming to swirl with mad, terrible laughter that ripped right through her.

  16

  Jess!" The voice sounded impossibly far off even as Jess felt herself spinning into a hideous black void; sibilant whispers and malevolent cackles utterly overwhelming her sense of self. She screamed silently into that darkness, desperate to save herself, even as she drowned in inconceivable horror, her mind hammered with hideous flashes of nightmare. Vast cities made of pillars of lead, a terrible weight crushing the very bedrock upon which it had been forged, the stones themselves the remnants of a fallen planet's souls screaming endlessly, silently, for eternity, even as hellish demons cavorted in the sulfur-laden cities above, disemboweling and feasting upon a bloody rain of souls falling through the cracks between endless worlds, all of them unfathomably far away.

  Even as Jess screamed at the horror of it, her mind was torn free, hurtling into a vision of an enormous castle of yellow bone upon which stretched a monstrous canvas of writhing flesh, endless scores of mouths cruelly stitched shut even as their flayed skins were all sewn together. And each and every one of those skins was utterly, horrifically aware. Sentient of every endless moment agonizing eternally with the torments of suffocation, the release of death forever stolen from them. Their brilliant eyes alone unharmed, oozing streams of blood and tears, sweet nectar for the hideous consortium of twisted inhuman monstrosities even then feasting upon hundreds of staked and bound souls upon the castle courtyard below.