“Yet evil may be turned against itself.”
I frowned at her. “How do you mean?”
Mag fixed me with a look. “The vampires hunger for the burning blood. And we mean to hunt the vampires.”
My eyes widened. “Mag, no.”
“Oh yes.”
I leaned heavily on the table. “Dark below.”
“No, this darkness is within,” said Mag. “Within the heart of Lan Shui itself. Let us invite our foes straight into that heart and let the darkness consume them.”
We went to find Yue before noon. After hearing of the plan, she looked about as convinced as I had been.
“You want to let them into the town,” she said, as though certain she must have misheard.
“With all the people hidden,” said Mag. “No one will be in danger.”
“Except whoever stands between the vampires and their goal,” said Yue.
“Which will only be us,” I said. In truth, I had to force a great deal of confidence into my words—this was Mag’s idea, and I was determined to support her, but my fingers kept twitching when I took my attention off them, as though they were desperately trying to flee the impending doom of the rest of my body.
Yue chewed on the inside of her cheek, seemingly unappeased. “Show me,” she said at last.
We took her to the Shades’ hideout and down the secret staircase to the underground chamber. She stood awestruck in the doorway, looking at the size of it.
“How under the sky did they build this?” she muttered.
“I think they had an alchemist, or more than one,” I said. “The people we killed here … they have many powerful friends across Underrealm, powerful and evil. I would wager they had whatever resources they required.”
We showed her the cauldron and the pit beneath it where the fires had burned. Her expression darkened considerably when we told her of the magestones.
“If magestones are involved, then we should notify the Mystics,” she said.
“You have tried to reach them already,” Mag pointed out. “And even if you could, how long would it take them to reach us?”
Yue did not seem to have a counterpoint to that. “So your plan,” she said slowly, “is to lure the creatures using this cauldron? Can they even smell it from outside?”
“They smelled it from leagues away,” I told her. “It is what brought them to Lan Shui in the first place.”
“We fight them first on the streets outside,” said Mag. “They will be focused on an objective, and we should be able to kill some of them as they move towards it. There are only five left.”
“Only?” said Yue—at the same time as me. It had slipped out of me despite myself.
Recovering quickly, I looked at Yue and gave her a sage nod. “Only.”
“But if we need to fall back,” Mag pressed on, glaring at me, “we can do so safely. We can fight them in the house above, while they try to figure out a way down into the basement, and if any of them make it to the cauldron, we can attack them while they feed.”
“Try and explain, again, how this is better than fighting them at the walls,” said Yue, folding her arms.
“What are walls to these beasts?” I said. “They can leap up them in one bound.”
“Did you ever serve in a king’s army? In a mercenary company?” said Mag.
“No,” admitted Yue.
“Then take it from the two of us, who have fought on many battlefields across nine kingdoms,” said Mag. “An enemy who dearly wants an objective is easy to manipulate. If you can force them to approach it, you can plan your attack. Our enemies have an advantage in their speed and their strength. But we also have an advantage, for they are little more than animals. We have to out-think them.”
There was a long moment of silence while Yue looked slowly between us and the cauldron in the center of the room.
“Very well,” she said at last. “But we will take additional precautions.”
“Such as what?” I said.
“They must be watched as they enter the town,” said Yue. “To make sure they do not deviate from the course you intend them to take. I will not invite them into Lan Shui, only to have them turn aside and rip open the homes of innocent villagers who will be unable to defend themselves.”
I glanced at Mag. “Constable, you have seen how quickly the beasts move. Mag and I cannot track them from the walls all the way back to this house quickly enough to try and defend it.”
“No, you will remain here,” said Yue. “Ashta and I will see to the safety of the town. I am sure some others will want to help, as well.”
“Your lives will be in grave danger if you do,” said Mag quickly. “You would do better to—”
“No,” said Yue, swiping her hand through the air like a knife. “This is my town. You may go through with this plan, but only if you do as I say. We may be at some risk, but we would rather face that danger than let others face it in our stead. And once I tell the townsfolk what you plan to do, I doubt you will be able to keep at least some of them from trying to help. Better to accept the help, if it cannot be turned away, and use it to ensure that as few lives are risked as possible.”
Mag could hardly argue with that. “Very well, constable,” she said. “I wish you would allow us to face this danger alone. But I thank you nevertheless.”
“And I, for one, do not wish to face it alone,” I said. “If that matters to anyone, which it does not seem to.”
Mag held forth her hand. It took a moment, but Yue grasped her wrist firmly. “Just make sure you kill the things.”
“We will,” I promised.
The rest of the day was spent in frenzied preparation. Yue and Ashta put word out through the town, and the folk of Lan Shui rushed to secure themselves in their homes. Of those who were physically fit to fight, many volunteered to take up arms against the vampires. Yue took most of these and stationed them throughout the town, to hide with the others and act as guards. If the beasts deviated from the path we had planned for them, these guards would be the first to respond. The rest, mayhap a dozen of the fittest townsfolk, were stationed between the walls and the house—the first line of defense if the vampires should turn aside from their hunt.
We finished our work just in time. The sun lowered in the west, its edge just beginning to slide beneath the top of the land spur. The warm day had begun at last to cool. Someone brought a cold meal to Mag and me at the Shade hideout, and Yue joined us there to eat. We sat on the ground outside the house, scraping the last of the food from our bowls with our fingers. While we ate, I noticed Yue giving us sidelong looks—though she did not seem as suspicious as she might once have been, which encouraged me.
“Is this what you do?” she said, as Mag discarded her bowl on the ground and I gave mine to Oku to lick clean.
“What?” I said, blinking at her.
“The vampires. The ones who used to live here, in this house. Is it your duty to seek out such things and end them? Are you some special sort of … of Mystic?”
Mag and I laughed together, though we probably should not have done. “No, constable,” I said. “This is not something we do often—that we have ever done before, in fact.”
“What brought you here, then?” she said. “And do not give me the same lies you told when you first arrived. I have placed much faith in you today. I want a real answer.”
Mag and I exchanged glances. But truth seemed the only option.
“We come from the town of Northwood, as we said,” Mag told her. “Some weeks ago, it was attacked.”
Yue’s brows rose. “Like here?”
“No,” I said. “Not vampires. By an army. They call themselves Shades. The ones who dwelled here were their compatriots.” I jerked my thumb at the Shade hideout beside us.
“Who are they?” said Yue, eyeing the building.
“In truth, I know little of their aims, or where they came from,” I said. “That boy, Pantu—may he rest in the darkness—he told me t
hey came from Calentin. All I know for certain is that they had a stronghold in the Greatrocks, until a wizard came and drove them out of it. Then they attacked Northwood in great strength and nearly razed it in revenge.”
“And when they did, they killed my husband,” said Mag softly.
Yue let a long moment of silence pass. “That is an ill thing to hear,” she said at last.
Mag pressed on. “There was a weremage. She led their forces in Northwood. She took the form of a lion and killed my Sten. And when they withdrew, she fled west into the Greatrocks. We followed her trail here to Lan Shui. We hoped to find her here, though of course now we know she left this place before we even came.”
“Yet you remain,” said Yue.
“Of course,” said Mag, shrugging. “We are not without a conscience.”
I smiled, and Yue appeared to hide a smirk. “Well. You should not have kept all this from me when you arrived,” she said.
“I suppose the King’s law would say so,” I said. “Would you have allowed us in if we had been honest?”
“Do you jest?” said Yue. “Of course not. Yet I suppose, after a fashion, that I am glad you came.”
“That is how latrine duty often works,” I said.
Yue blinked at me. “What?” she asked, while Mag tried hard to suppress her laughter.
“Nothing.”
Stars had begun to appear in the sky above. The moons had not yet risen, but I could almost see the glow of them in the east. I pushed myself to my feet.
“Time is nearly upon us,” I said.
“In my experience, time is always upon us, depending on what time you mean.” Yue got to her feet and held out her hand a final time. She took Mag’s wrist first, and then mine. “Do your best not to get killed tonight.”
“Of course,” said Mag. “You have made it clear to us how much trouble it is to get rid of bodies.”
“Not so much trouble,” said Yue. “The vampires will only be acting in self-defense, after all. Does that not excuse any amount of killing?”
I laughed at that. “Keep yourself safe as well tonight, constable.”
“I will try.”
She took off down the street at a trot, making for the gate where she would stand with the vanguard. Mag and I prepared our weapons and made ready for the night’s battle to come.
The woods around them had grown cold, and the fire had begun to burn low. Albern huddled farther under his cloak for warmth.
“Would you mind throwing some more wood on the fire?”
Sun shook herself and rose quickly. “Of course,” she said. “Forgive me for not noticing sooner.”
“Think nothing of it,” said Albern. “I think we both lost ourselves there for a moment.”
“I cannot imagine it,” said Sun, slowly adding logs to the fire. The flames swelled and crackled, and she relished their sudden warmth. “Sitting there in Lan Shui, knowing the vampires were coming and intending to face them head on. I think I would have died of fright.”
“Well, you must remember that we were hale and hearty youths in those days,” said Albern. “Much as you yourself are now.”
Sun could not help but laugh, though she quickly stifled the sound, which was far too loud in the silent forest. “I do not mean to be rude, but you were already a fair bit older than I am now.”
Albern frowned with mock severity. “I was barely past my fortieth year, thank you kindly.”
“And I have not quite seen my twentieth,” said Sun. “You will forgive me, but that is more than twice as old.”
“Ah, but life’s summer lasts long, and our leaves had not yet begun to brown—only to grey a little bit around the temples.” Albern’s eyes twinkled in the firelight.
“In any case,” said Sun doggedly, “that only proves my point further. You were grown, and warriors as well. I do not think I could sit and wait for such a creature to come for me. The fear would be too great.”
“Oh, I think you have a great deal of courage in you,” said Albern. “And I can tell by your walk and the strength in your arms that you are a warrior in your own right, even if you have not yet been tested.”
Sun could not help the blush that put in her cheeks, though she shook her head to try and dismiss it. “You cannot win an argument with flattery.”
“Oh? I seem to recall having done so before.” Albern scratched absentmindedly at his stump. “But I do not mean to flatter you. What you have said is the same thing everyone says, until they are thrown headlong into a fight. Some see it coming. Others never do. Either way, they come out the other side a warrior, or they do not come out at all. After you have seen it happen enough times, you tend to pick up a gift for knowing the outcome in advance. I would not say you were a warrior in the making unless I believed it.”
A feeling like a cold weight settled in Sun’s chest. “I wish I could believe that were true.”
Albern gave her a long, searching stare. “Sun, why did you come into my tavern tonight?”
Sun avoided his gaze. “You have not asked me any questions about myself,” she said quietly. “You said it did not matter who I was before I walked through that door.”
“You do not have to answer,” said Albern.
The little clearing settled to silence. For a long moment, Sun planned to do as he suggested, and remain quiet. But then, almost without meaning to, she began to speak.
“Ever since the War of the Necromancer, my family has been dishonored. You know … well, everyone knows how it ended. And most know how we have been viewed for our part in that ending. Now everyone in my family seems obsessed with regaining our honor.”
She fell silent for a moment. Albern had not removed his gaze from her. His hood cast shadows over his angular face. “That is not such an evil wish,” he said quietly.
“Except that they seem more interested in having honor than in doing honorable things,” said Sun. “They no longer want to be viewed as traitors, as cheats, as faithless scoundrels. Yet none of them seem willing to see why we are seen that way. They think they can reclaim their status by building alliances, by strengthening our trade connections, by amassing more power. To me, it seems that such actions are what brought about our dishonor in the first place.”
“I would tend to agree with you,” said Albern.
“They want me to act like they do,” said Sun. “They want me to want what they want. But I … I do not. I would rather do good deeds unpraised than receive accolades I know I do not deserve. Does … does that make sense?”
“It makes all the sense in the world,” said Albern. “And if the opinion of an old man matters to you at all, I think you have the right of it, Sun of the family Valgun.” He leaned closer to the climbing flames. “I think I had better carry on. We are nearing the end of the tale.”
Sun balked. “We are?”
“Oh yes.”
Sun could not help herself; she pouted. “I suppose I have no one to blame but myself,” she grumbled. “I had harbored a hope … well, you told me you were not giving the tale of your arm, but I thought that might be a ruse. I thought mayhap you were going to surprise me and tell the story I really wanted.”
“No, I am afraid I spoke only the truth,” said Albern. “And despite what I have told you earlier tonight, it is all the truth, though it did not always seem that way.”
“What do you mean?” said Sun.
“What I am telling you now is the truth as I know it now,” said Albern. “I thought the story was somewhat different when I was living it. And afterwards, I thought it was something else again. Whenever I give you a tale, I try to tell the truest version of it that I know at the time.”
“Humph,” said Sun, holding her hands out towards the fire. “I still think I would rather read a history book.”
“Who are you going to believe?” said Albern, smiling slightly. “Some scholar from your family’s court, or the man who lived the tale?”
“If I were to heed a wisdom I have only recently le
arned, I would not believe any of it,” said Sun, feeling almost ashamed at how good it felt to say the words.
Albern laughed. “An excellent riposte. But I have only my tale. Shall I finish it?”
Sun nodded.
Just after sundown, Mag and I entered the Shades’ hideout and descended to the basement. We broke open a locked cabinet on the back wall and found several small packets of brown cloth. I untied one to find a collection of black crystals about as large as a finger. Magestones. Oku sniffed at them and growled.
“How many should we use?” I said.
“All of them,” said Mag.
I looked at her. “That might burn straight through the bottom of the cauldron.”
“I do not think we will have that long before the vampires reach us.”
“A heartening thought,” I said. “As you wish.”
We piled the magestones up under the cauldron and lit them. They caught the sparks easily, like dry leaves, but they burned with a black fire that immediately sucked light from the air. I hastily snatched my hands away from the flames.
“That will do it,” I said, edging backwards as waves of heat rippled across my body. “Let us return to the street.”
Together we ran up the stairs, weapons in hand, and stopped on the street outside. Mag stuck out a hand, and we gripped wrists.
“Let us become heroes,” she said.
“You have been one a long time,” I countered. “Tonight I might finally join you.”
“Fah.” Her grip tightened for a moment. “In earnestness—be careful. If you let yourself die, I may have to kill you.”
“And you as well,” I said. “Though I suppose you would have to let me.”
“I will,” she said. “But enough words. Climb, little squirrel.”
I headed around the side of the building. Oku started coming after me, but when he noticed Mag holding her position, he paused, looking between the two of us and whining.
“Kip, Oku,” I said. “Mag will need you more than I will, I think.”
“Kip, is it?” said Mag. “I will remember that when I want to get rid of him.”
I frowned at her until, with a disgusted expression, she scratched Oku behind the ears in apology. Then I left her.
The Tales of the Wanderer Volume One: A Book of Underrealm (The Underrealm Volumes 4) Page 24
