How Black the Sky

by T J Marquis

  Morning came, and the red sun rose. Pierce could see its tendrils flicking about on either side of a ruined building across the street as if it were trying to climb the wreckage.

  Nothing had changed at the fortress. It was still shut tight. No one had come to hunt for Sev, nor had any force been released to deal with the battle's survivors. Axebourne called his comrades together, they decided to leave Testadel behind.

  Agrathor seemed wary of Sev immediately, but he hadn't even fully accepted Pierce yet, so it was no surprise. Scythia had studied the forgemaster closely, her circlet gems pulsing, but she had said nothing. Neither had Ess. But no one protested his presence or the notion of the forgemaster joining in their trek. Pierce marveled that he himself had garnered enough good credit with Gorgonbane to allow for the inclusion of not just a stranger, or even a simple Underlander, but an actual forgemaster. Such a defection was unheard of.

  What if this was another of Kash's new tactics? Sev could be a spy, looking to undermine Gorgonbane's efforts.

  But no, he seemed earnest, and he'd already saved Pierce's life once, twice if you counted the time he hadn't called the alarm on him when he should have.

  Stick with the decision, he thought. Trust the guy.

  Gorgonbane mounted up and led the remnant of Grondell's garrison out and away from the city. Axebourne wanted to gain high ground while they deliberated on the next move.

  Pierce could tell the man was at a loss. Overland had been at general peace for a number of years, but it was far from unified. Even if there had been some warning regarding the invasion from below, it was unlikely the nations of Overland would have come together in time to resist. Axebourne must know this.

  As news spread of Grondell's destruction, villages would empty of people seeking refuge. Fortified cities would try to prepare, but they would do so with only their own resources, sparing no thoughts for the survival of others. Pierce thought that if he were not a warrior, but something like a smith or baker, he would run for the hills or the forest. It should be obvious now that no city was safe.

  So where would Axebourne have them go? What could this meager band they led do against Kash's unrevealed might?

  Axebourne rounded up his comrades atop a hill, leaving the garrison men down below. Grondell's ruins were still in view. Nothing moved there anymore.

  Ess was quick with a suggestion.

  "We should go see the First," she said lightly. Pierce caught himself staring at her white-painted lips as she spoke. "If anyone could have the power to discover and cripple Kash's method of invasion, it will be him. And if any place is safe from an incursion, it will be his tower."

  "Alright," said Axebourne. "It's a thought. But where does he live nowadays? We will have to consider the distance, the timing, the cities we will encounter along the way."

  "It is far," Ess acceded. "His tower stands on the southern rim itself."

  "On the Chasm's edge?" Agrathor exclaimed. "It's too far!"

  Pierce couldn't even begin to guess at the best course of action. Usually, he had some impulse to act on, some half-baked idea of a plan that sounded exciting or challenging. Dully he realized what a toll the loss of Grondell and the Temple was taking on him. He listened idly as he watched the sun pull itself across the black sky.

  "Still," said Scythia, "if we lack the numbers to resist, or any way to know when and where he will next invade, only greater power will do us any good. It may be that we can only hope to vanquish the Underlord and his forces through some kind of brute strength."

  "And my master is wise," said Ess. "He cannot have gotten news of Grondell by messenger, and he may not be monitoring the outside world, depending on what his current pursuits are. The moment he knows of it, be assured, he will be exploring solutions."

  "We could join whatever forces are posted in Shrill, or Chasmreach," said Agrathor. "Maybe a larger force will have a better chance against an incursion if they know what to expect."

  "Yet why do the same thing twice, expecting different results?" said Ess.

  "Wouldn't be the same thing," Agrathor said irritably. "It'd be a bigger army. We could help everyone get organized. Plug their ears with cotton... by the Chasm, woman, I don't know!"

  "The forgemaster has not yet weighed in," said Scythia. "Is there anything you can say to help us, Sev?"

  "Wasn't sure if you wanted me to," Sev said. He shook his head. "I could tell you all about Testadel. Well most of it, anyway. We forgemasters don't get out too much."

  "Surely you've got something," Agrathor pressed. Pierce tensed, but Sev didn't seem perturbed.

  "I truly wish I did, master Agrathor," Sev said. "Though the Underlord did not hesitate to discuss the fact that he intended to invade Overland, he never shared any details beyond that fact."

  "But there's no way he did this without the work of a forgemaster, or many," Agrathor growled, gesturing toward Grondell's ruins with a skeletal hand. "You're telling me he didn't bring you in on whatever crazy project brought this magic about?"

  "As I've said," Sev responded without any tension, "he was not a slave-driver, at least not with his forgemasters. Each of us was allowed to pursue that craft which he thought held the most merit. I happen to love colors and light. It seems that such enchantments had no place in the Underlord's current plan."

  "Or maybe you're lying," Agrathor said lowly. Pierce didn't think he really meant it, but the man's emotions were as raw as everyone else's. He was bound to express them somehow.

  "Peace, Agrathor," Scythia said. "We have already discussed the veracity of the forgemaster."

  When had they done that? Pierce wondered, looking down from the black sky for a moment. They hadn't brought him in on it. He decided not to be offended. He was the rookie, after all.

  Agrathor made that strange sound like a sigh. "I know. You see it. I know this," he said. "You have my apologies, forgemaster."

  Sev shook his head. "Not needed, master Agrathor. Who else among us here has worked, slept, and eaten under the same roof as the Underlord himself? I may not have been out much, even within the fortress itself, but I understand the significance of this reality. The fact that I am not yet slain by your hand is testament enough to me of your acceptance. Words will come and go like the wind."

  "Another wise one," Axebourne murmured. "I can feel my brain growing already, just being on the same hill as you."

  Sev smiled flatly.

  "Yet I must agree with mistress Ess," he said. "If you know of one who may be able to solve the riddle, it would be best to go see him."

  "Well if we're voting the outcome is clear," said Axebourne. "But we don't vote, though I like for everyone to agree, you all know that." Ess, Scythia, and Agrathor nodded. "To me, the course is clear, if not what my body aches to do." He cast his eyes toward the city ruins. "We should go see Eff."

  "Must you?" asked Ess, but she didn't really seem annoyed.

  Axebourne shrugged. "It doesn't have the same ring as Ess I admit, but I feel stupid calling him 'the First' every muck-ridden time. So Agrathor, are you in, or must we deliberate further?"

  Agrathor had fallen quickly into the habit of bringing a hand to the side where he'd sacrificed a rib. He did it now.

  "You know I'll go, old man," he said. Axebourne grinned.

  "Easy for you to mock me, bone-man," Axebourne said. "You don't wrinkle or go silver."

  "It's southward, then," said Ess. "Do we take the men?"

  Everyone glanced down the hill, where the garrison soldiers were milling about the little camp.

  "Can't see them doing any earthly good," said Agrathor.

  "But we can't just leave them behind, possibly to die," said Scythia.

  "I'd say there's safety in numbers," said Ess, "but it is true we would just be protecting them."

  "And we would travel faster alone, them being unmounted," said Axebourne.

  "I, too, have no steed," said Sev.

  Pierce looked down again from the black sky.


  "You could take Gash, Sev. I'll run."

  "This kid," Agrathor mumbled but did not challenge Pierce's insinuation that he could run the whole way.

  "Doesn't matter," said Axebourne. "I say we would be faster, but I know none of us would leave them behind. We'll scour the area for runaway mounts - there's bound to be dozens. If we are to protect these common soldiers, then protect them we shall. And who knows, another great hero may just emerge from nowhere, as this ridiculous kid's done."

  "Me?" said Pierce, glancing back up to the sky. That blood-red sun on its black canvas. He should be used to it, but something about it had always seemed off, even since his childhood. Grandma's stories came to mind, and it clicked.

  The way the Monstrosities had reacted to the light of his sword. The way the werewolves had hated it. Would it have made the gen uncomfortable too? It was said that the Underlanders hated Overland, that it was, in fact, poisonous to them, but that was clearly no longer true. Had it really been at one point? Every legend reflected some kind of truth.

  "Ess," Pierce said, "you enchanted your entire tower." She nodded. "How large an area could the First, er... Eff, enchant?"

  "Hmm," she said, "it would depend upon the effect. I am not too proud to admit his range would be greater than mine. What do you have in mind?"

  Pierce didn't answer immediately.

  "Sev, if you needed to, could you make more blue?"

  The forgemaster's normally relaxed eyes lit up. "Yes, master Pierce, I do believe I could."

  "You wouldn't happen to know why most of the Underlanders hate that color, would you?"

  Sev shook his head. "Only the other forgemasters could stand to look at it. I admit, I did not really spend much time trying to understand why. I just thought it beautiful and rare. The others discouraged me from making more."

  "I think I know," said Pierce. "Or at least I have a guess."

  "Please, Pierce, enlighten us," said Ess.

  "My grandma used to tell me all the old tales. Stuff from before we learned to write, from before the temples and the Path," he said. "She told me the sky used to be bigger - I don't have a clue what that means - that the sun was brighter, that more of the land was green. That people saw fires in the sky at night."

  Agrathor narrowed his green flames at Pierce.

  "She said her own great-grandmother used to dream of it, that the sky was a color she'd never seen, that the brightness of it scared the deep shadows back into their lairs and crevasses. That it was a better time."

  "There is magic in light," said Ess. "Some say the seed of the world is made of it. Perhaps the physical and ethereal brightness of blue is simply too much for the Underlanders physiologically."

  Pierce looked back at Ess and said, "I'd been thinking. What could be done to protect the whole of Overland all at once? Could we put a seal on the earth itself, to prevent those burrowing incursions on the surface? Then I remembered grandma's old tales of how Underlanders couldn't stand coming up here. That, in fact, it was dangerous for them. We might have a way to make it dangerous again."

  He grabbed Sev's forearm, lifting it up as if it were evidence of the logic of his plan.

  "We have Eff enchant the sky," Pierce said. "We use Sev's dust to make it blue."

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Underlord

  Kash had always thought he'd spend more time on his throne, being fed blackberries or spitberries by gen women with gleaming skin like crushed quartz. His female attendants would have their own beautiful servants, who would stand by waving their paper fans at him to dispel a bit of the Underlands' dank humidity. If he slept, they would drape him in rich, plush blankets and make sure his head didn't droop. If he desired entertainment, they would dramatize the myths of old for him, or dance, or bring in jesters from faraway lands.

  It turned out that ruling the Underlands was not always so glamorous.

  Women, and gen women in particular, were not in fact keen to line up at the palace doors each day, gleefully awaiting their chance to serve a mighty master. Underlings of all kinds were more concerned with preserving their own hides than protecting or nourishing their ruler. Getting them to take on all the vast array of infrastructure projects Kash had dreamed up in his youth was not as simple as giving an order. He had to have a plan for the treasurer, a hierarchy for the workers, instructions for the foremen, and compensation for everyone from menial laborers on up. Slavery was not an option, for every Underlord who had ever attempted to gather slaves had been tossed ruthlessly into the Chasms.

  Kash found that he had to be diligent, organized, and conscientious. He had to give thought to the goals and emotions of his people. They responded more to this than to any threat of harm, for they knew that the people of the Underlands were its true soul and body, not the Underlord himself. Their ruler was to be a facilitator, a benefactor, often a servant.

  In his early years, Kash had found these revelations hard to swallow. He was powerful, of good breeding, and his family was of high standing. He simply hadn't realized that leadership was hard work.

  Yet he fell into it easily. After all, conquering the land itself had been no simple task either. He was confident in his ability to adapt, to learn, and to succeed. Now, his people loved him, his workmen and soldiers respected him, and all of Underland was united to rise and claim Overland for themselves.

  Kash had just folded back down to his palace from the risen Testadel. Experience had taught him the importance of rest. The fortress would be safe enough without him. Besides, if Gorgonbane returned to attack sooner than he expected, with a greater force or without, Ugrata would fold down and let him know. He didn't think it would come to that.

  Even those mighty warriors would hesitate to take him head on, in his own fortress no less. They'd slain many of his legions, but crossed swords with him only once. Kash took pride in knowing that he'd been the one to walk away without a limp.

  He grinned.

  Overland had no idea what had just begun. Kash didn't even care about the loss of those several Monstrosities, or the half-battalion of werewolves. All of the Underlands were at the ready to claim the surface world, and Overland would never be able to unite in defense.

  Kash laughed.

  Even if they wanted to unite, no one up there knew which city he would attack next. Where would they convene?

  Kash strolled through his austere throne room to the balcony outside. It overlooked the fields arrayed around the palace, and the wall far beyond. Gen were hard at work below, tending the blackberry groves and the bloodhooves out in their pasture.

  Yes, it was better to be down here for now. Maybe even after the conquest was complete. There was something comforting about the dark, distant vault of the sky that the silver moon endlessly circled. It was to him as a blanket to a young child, and Kash felt no guilt at recognizing this. He supposed it was ingrained in his flesh. From time immemorial, those born in the Underlands had harbored a natural aversion to the surface world. Sometimes even a fear of it. He still didn't know what long lost condition had caused the aversion, but clearly it no longer existed. Overland was now no more dangerous to an Underlander than the realm of subterra. Again, it was simply less comfortable.

  Not that this rendered it less desirable for conquest.

  A bloodhoof herdsman caught sight of Kash on his high balcony and waved. Kash waved back. He called to one of his footmen who waited just inside the balcony doors. The servant obediently stepped outside.

  "Have a sumptuous dinner sent to that man's family, Jorgra," he said to the footman. "Serve it on silver dishes, with a crystal carafe of glimmermead for each adult in the household. Insist that they keep the dishes when the meal is done. If they inquire as to why I have sent it, tell them you do not know."

  Jorgra nodded and trotted off to see to the dinner.

  Kash was not always so extravagant with his rewards, especially for something so trivial as a friendly wave, but today was a special day. Even in the unlikely event that the Unde
rlord's plan failed - and he seriously doubted this - today day would be written in history as the day that the Underlands asserted their dominance over the world. It was the day that the seat of Overlandish knowledge, scholarship, and religion had been wiped from existence.

  And though he hadn't planned it, it had been the day that Kash had bested Gorgonbane a second time, a feat which no other living mortal held claim to.

  Kash smiled in satisfaction, then checked himself. He shook his head slowly.

  He should not linger on such emotions. If he began to feel secure, fulfilled, he might become mired in contentment. He might decide that one or two cities were enough, might begin to feel that the Overlanders deserved to keep some of what had been theirs. It was a strange sense of fairness that sometimes crept into his thoughts, and he had to banish it along with any hint of complacency.

  No, this victory must be total. Whichever Overlanders survived to live under his rule would come to love and respect him as the Underlanders did. They would learn to till their fields and pluck from their vines as if he were always watching, and they would send tribute in the hopes of gaining his favor. He would bless them with dinners, and livestock, and even enchantments, and they would love him.

  The world may even enjoy a time of peace.

  The faint sound of reality ripping apart came from the throne room behind him, and Kash started. He hadn't expected anything to go wrong so soon. He turned and left the balcony, tense.

  "Ugrata," he said, "what's happened? Are you okay?" He strode up to his wife and placed his hands on her slim shoulders. She looked whole, her jet black skin reflecting glimmers of lamplight. She smiled.

  "All is well, my darling," she said. "Too well for the taste of some of your minions," she chuckled.

  "Then why have you come? I did not expect you so soon, and you worried me," he said.

  "I simply wished to spend a night with you," she said, slipping her slender arms around his waist, laying her head on his wide chest. "Don't worry. I left a decoy of light with an enchantment of seeing. If there is any substantial movement outside Testadel, I will know."