On Blackened Wings

by James E. Wisher

  He winced and said, “I can try, but that’s not something I’ve ever done.”

  “Nothing like on-the-job training. Hurry.”

  Al Elan raised his hands and scrunched up his face. A golden dome appeared over them before slowly fading from sight.

  “Is that good?” he asked, lowering his hands to his side.

  Jen had no idea if it was good or not. “Perfect, thanks. We can speak through it, right?”

  Al Elan shrugged. “Maybe.”

  “He’s the worst sorcerer ever,” Talon muttered.

  Jen glared at him. “Think you could do better?”

  “No, but that doesn’t mean he’s doing good,” Talon said.

  Their bickering was cut off when six figures appeared in the sky. Two of the sorcerers wore red and the others blue. There was no mistaking the burly figure in the center. Beside her brother and the archmage, Nathanial was about as powerful a sorcerer as they had in the kingdom.

  Nathanial descended while the others pointed glowing hands in their direction.

  He stopped and hovered twenty feet up. “Jennifer. When word of Louis’s kidnapping reached us, I knew you had to be behind it. Hand him over and I’ll let you and your people walk away. You can’t ask for a better offer than that.”

  “Sure I can. Bring the princess here and we’ll trade.”

  “You know I can’t. She’s the key to making this whole thing work. Be reasonable. I could simply kill you all and take him.”

  Jen bared her teeth and pressed her dagger hard enough into Louis’s throat to draw blood. He squealed like a pig, but didn’t move.

  “Think you can kill me before I cut his head off? I doubt your master the duke would be very happy if you brought his son home in two pieces.”

  “If you wanted to kill him, you’d have left his body with the carriage.”

  “You’re right, I don’t want to kill him, but if I have to choose between handing him over or killing him…” She shrugged.

  “Can’t you be reasonable for once?” Nathanial asked. “What is it with the St. Cloud stubborn streak? Your father never bent an inch on anything.”

  “And neither will I,” Jen said. “So what now?”

  Nathanial looked back over his shoulder. Jen sharpened her vision in time to catch one of the other sorcerers shake her head. Whatever he’d been stalling for hadn’t worked. Thank you, Al Elan.

  A lance of golden energy streaked out from Nathanial’s extended hand only to splash against the barrier. “So the dragon’s chosen has learned how to use his powers. Think he’s strong enough to stop six sorcerers?”

  Looked like they were going to find out. All the sorcerers formed a circle above them and attacked. The combined energy slammed into the dome.

  Al Elan groaned and raised his hands.

  “You okay?” Jen asked.

  He nodded as sweat beaded on his forehead. Jen barely heard him mutter, “If you can hear me, Dreamer, I need your help.”

  Jen swallowed a lump in her throat. If he was already calling out to his patron for aid, it didn’t bode well for their chances.

  She tightened her grip on Louis’s collar. Whatever else, she wasn’t letting him out of here alive.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Damien sat alone in his room at the Black Horse Inn, or was it the Red Horse Inn? There were too many inns with horse in the name. The text on the scroll he was reading started to swim so he stopped and rubbed his tired eyes.

  When he’d finally got back to Imogen she’d located Mariela and the scholar was busy writing down the names of all the Binder cultists she’d met during her research. She’d been reluctant to hand the information over, but Imogen could be very persuasive when she wanted to be and the fact that the cultists were trying to overthrow the king helped convince her.

  What surprised Damien was that she didn’t know a thing about the uprising. Amazing how focused a scholar got when doing research. At least she had sense enough to do hers above ground. That was the only thing sensible about researching demon cults.

  The resulting list filled two three-foot scrolls and was divided by city. One full scroll was just Port Valcane. The other was spread over the rest of the kingdom. The archmage was busy studying the one with the capital’s list leaving Damien to memorize the second. She wanted him to know the list by heart just in case something happened.

  He understood of course, but that didn’t make the task of memorizing names any more interesting. It felt like an assignment from his Tower days.

  Unable to take it anymore he stood and stretched, popping his back and yawning. He’d rather fight an army of cultists than do another minute of paperwork. Maybe a trip to the common room for a bite to eat and a drink would settle his mind.

  Something scratched at the back of his mind, like nails on slate, sending a chill up his spine.

  Damien, Dreamer wishes to speak with you.

  He had just time enough to sit on the edge of his narrow bed before he was drawn forcefully into the psychic realm. This wasn’t Lizzy’s empty darkness, but the blasted, apocalyptic wasteland Dreamer called his mental home.

  Maybe a little more paperwork wouldn’t be so bad after all.

  The dragon came diving out of the sky and landed in front of him in all his dark glory. In this place Dreamer seemed larger than he was in person.

  “My chosen is in danger,” Dreamer said.

  “What kind of trouble could someone with his power get into? In terms of raw strength, he’s as powerful if not more so than me.”

  “True, but Al Elan doesn’t yet fully understand how to use external soul force, which leaves him crippled despite what I’ve given him.”

  Damien understood that all too well. Worse, Jen was with him. If Al Elan was in trouble then so was she. “Where are they?”

  “Northwest, in the forest, perhaps five hundred miles from your current position.”

  “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

  “One moment. I also wished to warn you that the Binder is rapidly bringing the Old Empire under his control. At his current pace, I estimate he will turn his focus east in less than a month.”

  “Then we’ve got at least two months before he arrives,” Damien said.

  “I would not count on it. A being of Binder’s power isn’t bound by the whims of wind and weather. I wouldn’t count on more than a month before his forces arrive.”

  Damien grimaced. That didn’t leave much time to clean up their mess here and build defenses. “Thanks for the warning. If you return me to my body I’ll get going.”

  The sudden weight of his body surprised him for half a second then he was up and off the bed. He grabbed Lizzy from her spot hanging from his headboard and rushed out into the hall.

  Three strides carried him to the archmage’s room.

  He didn’t bother knocking. “Jen’s in trouble. I’ve got to go.”

  “Wait! Damien!”

  He ignored his master and ran down the steps, through the half-empty common room, and out the door. Two more steps carried him across the porch and he was in the air.

  Where was she? Damien focused on finding the scrap of his soul force that lived in Jen’s sword. Seconds later he found her.

  With a location firmly in mind, Damien drew deep and shot off like a comet. Everything around him blurred as he raced to his sister.

  Seven minutes later he sensed six strong sorcerers gathered above her position. He bared his teeth in a predatory smile when he recognized the strongest.

  Nathanial. It was time they finished what they started when he tried to kill Uncle Andy.

  On the ground, Al Elan’s shield wavered and shook. He was losing focus after the long battle. Al Elan still had plenty of soul force left, he just lacked the ability to draw on it anymore. That wasn’t good. Without the shield, any stray blast could kill them all. Damien needed to be careful how he handled this or his rescue might end badly.

  The sorcerers must have sensed him approaching. When
he pulled up they’d ceased their attacks and moved together facing him.

  Damien drew Lizzy and power crackled along her blade. Five of the sorcerers exchanged nervous looks.

  Nathanial glared at him. “Damien. I’d hoped to keep you out of this.”

  Damien grinned. “I bet you did. Who are your new friends? They don’t look up to Crimson Legion standards.”

  A female sorcerer bristled at his insult and sent a stream of soul force daggers at him.

  Damien slashed with Lizzy, releasing a wave of their merged power.

  The daggers shattered into glittering sparks.

  The wave roared on, reducing the sorcerer to little more than charred blue robes.

  “Definitely not up to legion standards.” Damien sensed the others’ fear in the unsteady flow of their soul force.

  The first of the blue-robed sorcerers turned and flew away. Like kicked dogs, the remaining three chased after the first.

  “Cowards!” Nathanial shouted. “It’s still five against one.”

  The others didn’t appear to find Nathanial’s argument persuasive and soon they were little more than specks in the distance.

  “What do you say, Nathanial? Up for a sorcerers’ duel?”

  “I’ll teach you a lesson another day, boy.”

  That was so much bluster and they both knew it. Nathanial withdrew and Damien let him go. They’d have their reckoning another day, when there wasn’t anyone around to get hurt.

  When he was confident the enemy sorcerers weren’t coming back, Damien landed in the clearing with Jen and her companions. His sister shoved some fat fop at Edward, ran over, and hugged him.

  “It’s a relief to see you, little brother.”

  “I’m glad you’re all okay.” He turned toward Al Elan. “Looks like you’ve been practicing my external soul force lessons. That shield was quite impressive.”

  “Thanks,” was all Al Elan could gasp out.

  Using that much soul force took a toll if you weren’t used to it. He’d be okay in a few hours.

  Damien jerked a thumb toward the nobleman. “What’s that?”

  “Louis Carmichael, Duke Carmichael’s only son.” Jen grinned. “And Karrie’s future husband.”

  Damien raised an eyebrow. “Come again?”

  “It’s a long story and I think Uncle Andy will be interested to hear it.”

  Damien didn’t know about the king, but he was certainly eager to hear it. He conjured a large chariot. “Anybody want a lift or would you rather walk?”

  “I’d rather walk,” Edward said.

  “Very funny.” Jen pushed him up onto the construct, stood beside Damien, and whispered. “We were in real trouble before you showed up. Thanks.”

  “What else is a brother for?”

  Everyone finished loading up and Damien took to the air. The inn was about to get a lot more crowded.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Binder walked behind his petite guide into the darkness. The top of his head brushed the ceiling so he shrank a foot to make sure he didn’t run into any stalactites. Not because it would hurt, but to avoid the embarrassment. He could see perfectly well as they walked, but it must have been difficult for the girl. He almost offered to conjure a light for her, but he remembered in time that she lived down here. If the lack of light was a problem she’d probably move.

  Of course saying he could see and there being anything worth looking at were two different things. The tunnel was nothing but rough gray stone all around. Only the floor was smooth, probably worn that way by years of passing feet. The air smelled and felt dead after the fresh breezes outside. At least it was dry.

  The girl didn’t make a peep as they went, even her steps were silent. About a hundred yards from the entrance the last of the reflected sunlight vanished, plunging them into prefect darkness. Even Binder couldn’t enhance his sight enough to navigate.

  Fortunately, he didn’t have to. Barely ten steps further along, an ambient purple light appeared from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. He reached out with his divine senses, but whatever produced the glow didn’t do it with soul force. It seemed he was to get his fill of mysteries during this journey.

  Not that his guide seemed interested She kept walking straight ahead, never so much as glancing back to see if he was still there. She wasn’t a sorcerer and so couldn’t sense his presence. Maybe she simply didn’t care. If Qang had been leading him that was exactly what he would have thought.

  About a hundred yards from the cave mouth they reached the first Y in the tunnel. She turned left without hesitation. The path sloped ever so slightly downward. How deep did the people live? Surely it must be a nuisance to bring food and supplies this far down.

  The tunnel continued on for another ten minutes before they reached another branch. Actually it was more of a nexus as five tunnels came together in a round chamber. Two men emerged from their right, the heavy woven packs on their backs filled with ore. The miners shot them a passing look before continuing down a different path.

  His guide selected the left-most passage once again and started off. They walked down an identical tunnel for five minutes before Binder asked, “How far are we going?”

  She stopped and looked back. “We’re going to the village, where the Underking lives. We can stop if you need to rest.”

  Was she mocking him? He couldn’t tell from her flat, emotionless voice. Eyes with all the life of river stones stared at him without fear or curiosity. They’d been walking for quite a while. Perhaps she didn’t fully appreciate his strength.

  He’d take her offer as genuine. “Thank you, but I’m fine.”

  “Okay.” She resumed her trudging.

  Half an hour and a handful of twists and branches later, he sensed a gathering of life. A minute later the tunnel opened into a huge cavern. Dozens of one-room stone huts sat in neat rows. A single structure, only half again as big as the others, waited in the center of the village. That must be where the Underking lived. Certain not much of a palace.

  People went about their tasks in small groups or alone. No one argued or fought. It was like a silent play, perfectly acted.

  Binder stopped dead and stared.

  This was what he wanted. Peace and order. This village far under the earth was his dream writ small.

  How had the Underking managed such a miracle? Binder wouldn’t have believed humans capable of living together without squabbling.

  His guide took a path between the rows toward the central building. As they passed, villagers dressed in simple robes like the girl’s paused in whatever they were doing and watched them pass. Their eyes sparkled with a little more life than his guide’s, but they didn’t show any alarm at a stranger making his way to their king’s home. Maybe if he’d been alone, the reaction would have been stronger.

  It took less than a minute to reach the Underking’s hut. There wasn’t even a door, just a heavy canvas hanging from a stone rod. A ruler with no fear of his subjects. Binder never imagined he’d see such a thing.

  He reached out with his magical senses. The hut held only a single life form and it wasn’t human. Understanding dawned as the girl pulled the curtain aside.

  “Go ahead,” she said.

  Binder ducked inside and she closed the curtain behind him. Seated on a stone chair far too modest to be called a throne was a pale, eyeless humanoid. Binder was aware of the blind stoneworkers of course, but he’d never dealt with one. Their species didn’t even have a specific name that he was aware of.

  “Welcome, Binder in Chains,” the Underking said. He pointed and a chair grew out of the floor. “Please sit and be welcome in my home.”

  Binder obliged, settling onto a chair far softer than stone should be. “Your guide neglected to mention that the Underking wasn’t human. I thought your people had died out on this continent long ago.”

  “Most did. I am the last of my people in these tunnels. I sense a few survivors far to the east, but this complex doesn’t
connect to theirs and I find the prospect of an ocean voyage unappealing. Besides, I have new people now.”

  “Yes, I see you’ve bound these humans to your service.”

  “Not bound,” the Underking said. “None are forced to stay. I have connected them on a psychic level so the thoughts of all are open to each. It removes misunderstanding and with it conflict. Much of what brings about violence is poor communication. You are less likely to hurt someone if their pain will echo in your own mind. If you feel what they feel, empathy is easy. That is what I offer and many have decided to accept.”

  “So the one truly bound is you. Without your psychic connection everything you’ve built falls apart. That’s why you refused to go with my knight.”

  “Correct. The imperial capital is many miles beyond my mental range. But you are here now and having seen what we’ve created, will you compel me to accompany you?”

  It pleased Binder to see the Underking’s acceptance of the inevitable. He showed no signs of resisting because it would be pointless and they both knew it.

  “This society you’ve created is a wonderful thing,” Binder said. “And I have no desire to ruin it. That said, if I show you preference, it will make things difficult with the other satraps who have sworn the oath.”

  “So what will you do?”

  “I believe a third option is the best way forward. Do you have a valued lieutenant, someone you trust to leave the caves for a time and not become corrupt?”

  “There are a few that go out to trade. What do you propose?”

  “I will take one of these trusted individuals and let everyone think they’re the Underking. He or she will swear the oath to the throne before returning to you. This way I have a loyal person at your side should you become overly ambitious, and you don’t have to leave your people.”

  The Underking nodded. “My kind is not given to excess ambition, but I understand your concern. Your compromise is more than fair. Do you require anything else of me?”

  “Twenty-five percent of your annual production will be paid to the throne. I’ll send someone every three months to collect.”