The library was quiet and empty, save for the two of them, and the faint smell of beeswax polish wafted gently in the air. Amrodan sat at a desk reading with the aid of a tallow lamp, his cowl concealing his face from her.
‘I’ve just returned from Port Morenpaw. Your contact wasn’t there,’ Pandimonia stated.
‘Oh.’
She paused, nonplussed.
‘I’ve just spent the last four weeks going to meet someone who didn’t show up. Haven’t you got anything to say?’
Amrodan did not reply.
He’s taking this remarkably well, Pandimonia thought. Normally he would be pacing the room and rubbing his beard.
‘What do you suppose happened to him?’ she asked. ‘Do you think he’s been captured?’
Amrodan shrugged and turned a page of his book.
‘Who knows? I’m sure he’ll turn up sooner or later.’
Pandimonia folded her arms and looked around. Her gaze once again settled on Amrodan.
I’ve never known you to be this apathetic, old man, she thought. What are you not telling me?
‘Well, then, I’ll go and tell the others that I’m back.’ Pandimonia walked towards the door.
Only when she was about to leave the room did Amrodan speak again.
‘They’re not here.’
Pandimonia put her hand on the doorjamb.
‘Where are they?’
‘Gurthün Bay. They have gone to summon Kröm,’ he replied calmly.
Pandimonia spun around and marched over to the desk that Amrodan was sitting at.
‘Why wasn’t I told?’
Amrodan closed his book. He fired Pandimonia a look of disdain before getting to his feet.
‘It will be a sad day, indeed, when I have to report to the likes of you.’
‘I wanted to be there.’
‘Do you think that is wise, given your history? You are as liable to attack one of the others as attack Kröm.’
Pandimonia shook her head, smiling bitterly.
‘You still don’t trust me. Even after all I’ve done.’
‘Trust is something that has to be earned,’ Amrodan said. ‘It will take more than the running of a few errands to gain that.’
Amrodan took up the book. He glared at Pandimonia before walking past her and out of the door, his limp evident.
What was that all about? she thought, as the sound of footsteps got fainter.
Still taken back by their encounter Pandimonia left the library in time to see Amrodan disappear up the stairwell that led to the temple. Continuing on she made her way through the monastery towards her dormitory. Only the monks had their own rooms, everyone else bunked in pairs, and as she undressed Pandimonia looked over at Santhom’s bed, her thoughts turning to their unlikely friendship.
I hope she’s all right, she thought. Santhom’s smart but she’s not streetwise; she’s led a sheltered life.
Lying with her hands behind her head Pandimonia mused on what had just happened in the library.
I’ve never seen Amrodan that way, she thought. He seemed not to care when I told him about the contact not showing up in Port Morenpaw. Almost as if he hadn’t expected them to turn up.
Pandimonia sat bolt upright in the bed.
‘There was no contact,’ she said out loud.
She threw back the sheets and swung her legs out of the bed, any weariness gone.
‘If there was no contact then sending me there was a distraction,’ she muttered. ‘He wanted me gone. But why? Did he really think I’d turn on the others?’
Pandimonia looked out of the window of her dormitory. There, high up on the cliff, she could see the outline of the temple.
Let’s see what’s on your mind, old man, she thought.
She closed her eyes and concentrated. As her mind began to focus, her psyche broke free. Floating across the floor, it passed through the closed door and along the corridor, drifting effortlessly up the spiral staircase. It paused when it came to a stone door at the back, of the temple, before flowing through it.
Inside, the temple was dimly lit by torches flickering in wrought-iron holders. Amrodan was standing at the edge of a large pool full of a black liquid.
That’s strange, she pondered. I thought it was red.
‘I have done what you asked of me,’ Amrodan was muttering, while gazing into the pool.
As Amrodan spoke, the pool’s colour slowly changed to a dark red.
‘The time of retribution is almost upon us,’ he whispered.
Pandimonia’s psyche enveloped Amrodan’s mind. Within seconds it had delved into his subconscious, scouring through mental repositories that he himself had never consciously accessed. It then began relaying these latent thoughts back to her.
Pandimonia heard dozens of female voices within Amrodan’s mind. Raised in anger, the voices were shouting and yelling in a language that Pandimonia had never heard before. As her psyche went deeper an image began to form in her mind.
A minute later she opened her eyes wide in disbelief.
Once the home of a small fishing community, Gurthün Bay possessed usually calm waters and a sheltered coastline, which had provided an abundance of cod and herring for its people. This hardy, remote colony had prospered for years until one day its entire fleet of fishing vessels were caught at sea by a freak storm.
Every ship was destroyed, their crews lost; the community never recovered. With most of the able men gone, and without a means to provide for themselves, the colony was abandoned soon after. The buildings, streets and land were left for nature to reclaim. That was over a decade ago, and Gurthün Bay had remained uninhabited ever since. That is until now. Laden with equipment and heavily armed, twelve shadowless figures stalked into the settlement under the cover of darkness.
The wind blowing through the cracks in the barn’s panelling caused the lanterns to sway on their hooks and when its strength peaked, loose shingles on the roof rattled. Down below, twelve figures sat around a rough trestle table. Arpherius sat at the head of it with his helm in front of him. He looked around at the eleven individuals staring back at him. They were all different shapes and sizes. Two were so large they had to sit on bales of hay as no chair could accommodate them. The light from the lanterns caused each person’s eyes to glow different colours: green, red, brown, indigo.
‘What will we do if the scroll doesn’t work?’ Kurt asked in his low, gravelly voice.
‘It will work; have faith,’ Arpherius said.
‘Where is Amrodan?’ Hallusâm asked, nervously. ‘He said he would be here.’
‘Amrodan is not here. He instructed me to explain the plan and to relay his commands.’
‘This is his idea and he’s not going to be part of the attack? That sounds just about right; he’ll be sitting in the monastery hundreds of miles away, wondering how many other fools he can send to their graves,’ Lórkrond said, the sound of grinding stone audible when he spoke.
‘He would not be any help to us,’ Arpherius began. ‘His power only allows him to—’
‘He would be one more target for Kröm,’ Lórkrond snapped.
‘He has a point, Arpherius,’ Keltarä said in her husky voice. ‘Amrodan always says we need to stand together against the gods; he should be with us when it happens.’
‘Amrodan’s reason for not being here is a valid one,’ Arpherius said.
‘I completely disagree,’ Yana said. ‘Amrodan should be here, risking his life with the rest of us. My power is not likely to make Kröm tremble, yet here I am.’
She’s right, Arpherius thought. I hate it when she’s right.
‘And what of Pandimonia? Why is she not here?’ Santhom enquired.
‘Amrodan sent her on an errand. She was not back by the time we had left.’
‘Will she be
coming here afterwards?’
Arpherius glanced downwards. ‘Amrodan thought it would be prudent if—’
‘Amrodan thought it would be prudent for Pandimonia to play no part in the ambush,’ Yana stated. ‘Given that she used to track down and kill individuals without a shadow, he felt it was not worth taking the risk of her turning on us. Have I missed something, Arpherius?’
‘This needs to go exactly as planned,’ Arpherius said. ‘Yes, it is true; Amrodan has reservations about Pandimonia’s loyalty.’
‘And do you?’
‘That does not matter. The fact is, we are only going to get one shot at this ambush and we cannot let it be jeopardised.’
Santhom rolled her eyes.
‘Forget about who is not here and let us concentrate on who is, and what we have to do.’ Arpherius stood and put his hands on the table.
‘I have spoken to each of you individually; I have been through what is going to happen when the ambush takes place and the part you will all play.’
‘What about the dragon?’ Trisidulous asked. ‘You said a black dragon would be doing most of the fighting. The entire attack has been planned around it. We’ve been here two days, and I’ve seen no sign of it.’
Arpherius looked at his hands. The veins bulged as he dug his fingers against the wood in frustration.
‘The dragon is coming, isn’t it, Arpherius?’ Cymbatoriá, who was always softly spoken, asked. ‘I mean, we’re only here as support. It’ll be facing Kröm head on, right?’
‘Darkan will be here. Amrodan assured me it would only make its presence known once Kröm had been summoned.’
‘Bah, and you believed him,’ Lórkond barked. ‘Did you even think to question why?’
Arpherius exhaled.
‘I am not here to argue with you, Lórkond. I’ve told you the dragon will be here, and it will be. This attack has been hundreds of years in the planning. Amrodan has gathered us from the four corners of the Northern Realms and supplied us with the weapons to bring this thing down; they include Darkan.’
‘Then where is it?’
‘On its way here, probably.’
There was silence, apart from the roar of the wind and the rapping of the shingles.
‘When exactly is the ambush to take place?’ Valan asked.
‘The pool told Amrodan that Kröm will be forcing himself on his next victim during the longest day of the year, which as you know is tomorrow,’ Arpherius began. ‘In his dream the sun was at its highest. Yana will be using her visions to find out exactly when the attack takes place. As soon as he is finished, we summon him.’
‘Wait a minute,’ Santhom interjected. ‘We are going to wait until he rapes some unfortunate girl then summon him? Am I the only one who thinks this is disgusting?’
‘Could we not summon him before he does it?’ Cymbatoriá asked.
Arpherius sighed and then looked around. He could tell by their faces that most of the people at the table were angry.
‘Kröm will be stronger if we summon him before the attack. By waiting until afterwards we stand a better chance of killing him. The gods are never weaker than just after they have forced themselves on a mortal woman.’
‘Not one of our mothers survived after we were born,’ said Santhom, looking around the table. ‘By letting this attack take place, you are condemning this woman to death and her future child to a life of persecution.’
‘Well, I mean. There is nothing that—’
‘Did you and Amrodan think this through?’ Keltarä barked.
‘See, the thing is that, Amrodan said the plan was always to—’
‘This is a complete disgrace. You should be ashamed of yourself,’ Yana shouted, rising from the table and walking to the door.
Cymbatoriá walked after her, followed by the other women.
‘Utan angry,’ Utan growled at Arpherius, as he followed Willow out of the barn.
Arpherius shut his eyes tightly and put his hands up to his face, looking between his fingers.
‘Were you always this popular with women?’ Lórkond asked as he walked past.
One by one, each person left the room. Only Valan remained. He had an intense look on his face; the look he normally reserved for his next target. Rising he walked around the table, pushing the stools back under it neatly, before sitting down again.
‘I have a few questions,’ Valan began. ‘Out of respect to you I chose to wait until the others left before asking them.’
Arpherius gulped. Valan’s voice was monotone but his glare was menacing.
‘Why were you the only one who was told about Pandimonia?’
‘I’m not sure,’ Arpherius stuttered. ‘I thought Amrodan would have told all of you eventually.’
‘What happens if, by some miracle, this works tomorrow? Then what?’
‘I’m not sure I understand.’
‘It’s quite simple, Arpherius. What happens afterwards? Do we find a way of summoning Dhalfire, who fathered me, and kill him? Do we summon Kurt and Yana’s father? How do we determine which god we go after next?’
‘Well, I suppose we could just—’
‘The way I see it, all the attention is on Kröm. Once he’s gone then you and Amrodan are safe. What about the rest of us? I looked around, there were ten different eye colours at this table, all here to help kill the god that fathered you and Amrodan; are you going to be the one to tell Trisidulous or Lórkrond that we’re not going after their father next?’
‘I’m sure Amrodan has a plan for what will happen after.’
‘Do you really think that once Kröm is dead, Amrodan is going to be just as eager to kill the other gods? He’ll be safe. It’ll be the rest of us that’ll have to deal with the consequences.’
‘I will not stop until every last one of the gods is dead.’
‘I guess we’ll find that out soon enough.’ Valan rose. ‘You should get some rest. One way or another, we’re going to have a long day tomorrow.’
He left the barn.
Arpherius’s mind whirled. The plan that had been explained clearly to him before, and that had made sense, suddenly seemed implausible. Could he really let a woman be condemned to death by waiting to summon Kröm? Amrodan’s reason for not being there now felt like a weak excuse and, of course, where was the dragon?
Arpherius headed out into the darkness. The wind blew in his face as he walked to the abandoned house where he was staying, the words of the others still ringing in his ears.
The single-story hovel that Arpherius was staying in was draughty and cold. The stonework had been battered by the elements and the thatched roof was only just intact, having endured one too many storms.
He entered the house and then placed his storm lantern on a shelf. A map of Gurthün Bay and the surrounding lands was spread out on the floor, weighted at the corners with stones. On the map were small wooden figurines, intricately carved; twelve of which were humanoid and around an inch tall. Two figures, that were far larger than the others, dominated the map, one of an armoured man and one of a dragon. Arpherius gazed at them.
We look so small, he thought, remembering that the figurines were the correct scale, relative to each other.
He picked up the wooden carving of Kröm and inspected it; circles had been chiselled in the surface, representing scales, and it held a trident close to its chest. Arpherius had never seen a god with his own eyes but he had read Pandimonia’s account of what happened on the island of Vestrowe. The details of her statement had always stuck with him, teasing fear from his mind whenever he brought them to the fore.
An armoured titan, five times bigger than a man, who made the ground tremble underfoot, he recalled, placing the figure back on the map. I wish Darkan was already here.
The concerns raised by the others at the meeting began to strike a chord wi
th him. Without Amrodan’s assurances, doubt slowly but steadily, started seeping into his thoughts.
A knock came to the door. He opened it to find Willow standing in the doorway, her blonde hair blowing in the wind. She walked past him and, after inspecting the room, sat down on the edge of the bed.
‘Is everything all right?’ he asked.
Willow produced a small square of slate and a thin stick of chalk and began writing.
I saw a light and came to investigate. How are you?
Arpherius sat down on the bed, rested his elbows on his lap and interlocked his fingers.
‘Honestly? Do not let the others know but I’m absolutely terrified,’ he confessed. ‘I know that Darkan will be charging Kröm from the front and that the rest of us will be attacking from the flanks or rear, but still, what if he kills the dragon and turns on us? He could butcher all of us.’
Willow wiped out her previous words and wrote again.
He will not kill any of us. If we stick to the plan we will be fine.
Arpherius put his head in his hands. ‘How can you be sure? The gods used to control the dragons; what if Darkan falls under Kröm’s spell again? Then we’re all dead.’
There was a sharp tug on his shoulder and when he looked up Willow was holding her slate in front of him.
Then you will think of something. You are the Shadowmancer!
Arpherius got to his feet and began rubbing his head. ‘What does that even mean? Everyone talks about this like it is something,’ he declared, fear audible in his voice. ‘It could be just some damn fairy story for all we know. What, because it’s written on a scroll that lay in the Black Monastery for a thousand years, we are all meant to take it as fact?’
Willow jumped to her feet before marching towards him. Her eyes and mouth were open wide in disbelief and Arpherius could see the gap where her tongue had been removed. She pointed to the word ‘Shadowmancer’ and then pointed to Arpherius’s heart, vehemently. After cleaning the slate she quickly scrawled on it.
Believe in yourself or no one else will.
Arpherius let out an exasperated sigh and stared at the ground with a look of dismay on his face; Willow threw her arms around him. As they stood hugging he glanced at the map, and the two large figures that dominated it, knowing that by sunset the next day he would either be free from Kröm or slain by him.
Shadowless Page 60
