Plague of Shadows

by Michael Wisehart

  “Whatever that may be,” Veldon said from the head of the table, kerchief clutched in one hand. “Other than rounding up every single ven’ae in the five kingdoms, we really have no idea what their overall goal is. The wizard says they want war. War with who? And why? More importantly, how does Ty fit into any of this? Sure, he’s different. He has more than one gift, and if we are to believe Nyalis, he’s part faerie. But is that really so important?”

  “It is,” Breen’s father said, “if they plan on using him as a weapon.”

  Sheeva, who was sitting next to Breen’s father, nodded in agreement, her amber eyes keeping a careful watch on everyone in the room.

  “A weapon for what, though?” Breen asked. “Who do they expect him to fight?”

  “Us,” his father said, turning to look at him. “At least, that would be my guess.” His father pulled his pipe from his inner jacket pocket and stuck it in his mouth. The stem had been replaced more times than Breen could count, from his father’s nervous habit of chewing it off whenever he had some serious thinking to do.

  “Don’t like the sound of that,” Feoldor said, tugging on his side whiskers. “Who knows what all that boy can do.”

  Reloria shook her head, then straightened the purple-and-gold bonnet on top.

  Breen turned as Fraya took his hand in hers. He smiled, the tension easing slightly.

  “Regardless of what the Tower’s intentions are, we have more immediate problems to deal with,” Breen’s father said, bringing the conversation back around once again. The Easthaven Council had a tendency to chase jackrabbits. Everyone had their own concerns and opinions, making it difficult at times to keep meetings on track.

  “Right you are,” Veldon said, wiping the top of his head with his kerchief. “The witch’s shop. Magical barrier or not, we can’t have it simply sitting in the middle of town for anyone to accidentally stumble into—”

  “More to the point,” Orlyn said, “we don’t want Mangora getting her hands on any of it. We have no idea where she went or if she’ll be back. Best we keep what’s inside good and hidden.”

  “And how do you plan to do that?” Feoldor asked. “Stuff it under your bed?” He smiled. “Or better yet, into one of those bottomless pockets in that robe of yours.”

  Breen chuckled at that.

  “One thing’s for sure,” Feoldor continued, “I don’t want any of her stuff in my house. Ow!” Feoldor looked at Reloria. “What was that for?”

  “What?” Reloria asked, pretending she didn’t know what he was talking about.

  “Should we divide it up, or keep it all together?” Veldon asked.

  “Doesn’t really matter,” Breen’s father said, “as long as it remains hidden.”

  “What about here in the Harbor House?” Reloria said. “That way, we can all keep an eye on it.”

  Orlyn shook his head. “I think that would be a mistake. The temptation to trifle with some of it might prove dangerous even to us.”

  “That’s right,” Feoldor said adamantly. “I don’t want that dark mess anywhere near me.”

  “What if we bury it?” Breen suggested. “There are places in the forest where I’m sure it could be kept safe.”

  Feoldor’s brows lowered. “What, like dig a hole and toss it in?”

  Breen nodded. “Why not?”

  Feoldor shrugged. “Sounds good to me.” He glanced at Veldon. “The sooner we’re rid of it, the better.”

  Veldon fiddled with the piece of flint hanging around his neck. “Still sounds a bit unprotected, though.”

  “I can hide it,” Gilly said in his usual playful voice.

  Everyone turned to look at him.

  “You believe you can hide her possessions, Gilly?” Veldon asked.

  Gilly nodded energetically.

  Feoldor laughed. “What are you going to do, toss them in the river?”

  “No,” Gilly said, raising his hand horizontally over the table and placing his transferal crystal below it. “I will hide them under it.”

  “How will you do that?” Fraya asked with a warm smile.

  Gilly climbed down from his seat, his head not reaching much higher than the table. “Come. I’ll show you.” Before anyone could say anything, Gilly was out the door.

  “I, uh . . . I guess this meeting is adjourned,” Veldon said. “Or at least changing venues.”

  “I wonder where he’s taking us,” Fraya said, still holding Breen’s hand.

  Breen helped her up from her seat. “With Gilly, there’s no telling.” He followed his father and Sheeva out the door, across the cellar, and up the stairs to the Harbor House above. “Where are we going?” he asked the dwarf as the group gathered just inside the kitchen.

  “The river,” Gilly said, waiting on Eliab to lower his double crossbow and open the back door.

  The Harbor House gatekeeper obliged and stepped out of the way.

  “The docks?” Breen asked.

  Gilly nodded and trotted down the back steps.

  “We’ll have to meet you there. Me and Fraya left our horses outside the East Inn.”

  “That’s fine,” Veldon said.

  Breen and Fraya broke off from the rest of the group.

  “We’ll come with you,” his father said, hurrying Adarra along to catch up. “We left ours in front of Orlyn’s shop.”

  It didn’t take them long to get from the Harbor House back to River Street. They stopped first at Orlyn’s shop, where his father and Adarra had left Your Highness and Thistle, then headed north a couple of blocks to where Breen and Fraya had left their horses tied. Acorn looked happy to see him and snorted when he spotted Breen coming up the sidewalk.

  “Sorry for leaving you here, boy,” he said, rubbing the faint white spot just above Acorn’s eyes. It was the only patch on the stallion that wasn’t brown.

  “Where did that bow come from?” his father asked, walking Your Highness around to the left side of Breen’s horse. “I haven’t seen it before.”

  Breen turned, and the breath caught in his throat. He’d forgotten to put the bow from Mangora’s back in its hiding place in the barn. He’d been practicing with it earlier that day when they had gotten word about the council meeting, and in all the rush to keep Ty from knowing where they were going, he’d forgotten to replace it. “I, uh . . .”

  What could he say? He couldn’t tell him he’d found it amongst the Northmen bows. They’d already collected those, and none of them held a candle to this new one. He also couldn’t tell him he’d gotten it in town. His father knew the artillator and would ask. “I bought if off a tinker earlier this week,” he lied, nervously rubbing the back of his neck as he did. “The man was passing through Easthaven and had stopped at the inn for a drink.” The more Breen lied, the tighter his stomach got. “He told me he had acquired some bows in Briston, and that Tallosian bow wasn’t worth the wood it was made with.”

  His father lifted the black bow out of its holder on the front of the saddle. “You shouldn’t be leaving something like this on your horse. It’s a wonder it wasn’t stolen.” He tested the pull of the string. “Where did you say the tinker got it? This bow is exceptional.”

  “Uh. He didn’t really say. Just somewhere in Briston.”

  “Did he have others?”

  “None like this one. It’s why I bought it. Cost me half my savings, but it was worth it.”

  “I’d say.” His father held the bow up to study its markings. “Don’t know if this is supposed to be a language or just decoration, but it’s beautiful.” He handed it back to Breen. “Take good care of it.”

  “I plan to,” Breen said and placed it back in its holder. He wiped a sheen of sweat from his forehead. He hated lying to his father like that, but with all the talk of trying to secrete away the witch’s belongings, he was too afraid to admit where he’d gotten it. “Best we get a move on,” he said, trying to change the subject.

  Adarra and Fraya were already mounted and waiting.

  Bree
n swung up into the saddle, and they headed east toward the docks. The others were already there and waiting on the second pier from the end. Breen hopped down, grabbed his bow, and joined the others as they marched down the walkway.

  “We were wondering if you’d gotten lost,” Feoldor grumbled.

  “We’ll definitely need more than one boat,” Orlyn said, looking at the group.

  “That shouldn’t be a problem,” Veldon said, pointing to the left side of the dock. “Those two are available. Haven’t rented them out in the last week, what with the colder weather coming in. Five in a boat.” Which worked out evenly, since there were ten of them altogether.

  “This is fun,” Fraya said. She looked at Gilly. “Where are we going?”

  Gilly placed a chubby finger to his lips. “Shh. It’s a secret.”

  She winked in return.

  Breen was the first to climb into the second boat. He helped Fraya and Adarra in after him, then grabbed one of the oars and waited for the others to board. The last time he’d been on the river, he’d been invisible, and Gilly had been at the helm, moving them so fast across the currents his eyes had watered. Being part of a community of wielders certainly had its advantages.

  Breen sat on the left side, and his father the right. They raised the oars and loosed the mooring lines from the bow and stern. The water was cold but calm. The winds coming out of the north had slackened, and the sun was out, which helped against the chilly oncoming winter air. Working the oar might have been strenuous, but it kept his body warm.

  Most of the regular seasonal traffic on the river had slowed, leaving theirs the only boats on the river. After a good hour on the water, Gilly directed the boats toward the right bank and into a narrow canal that had been completely hidden by brush. If Gilly hadn’t pointed it out, no one would have ever found it. Once through the brush, the stream took them away from the main branch of the river and was completely swallowed by the forest, blocking the late-afternoon sun from their boat and leaving Breen’s teeth chattering.

  “Kind of creepy in here,” Fraya said, staring up at the low-hanging branches and vines that hovered from one side of the water to the other.

  “I find it rather beautiful,” Adarra said, closing her book and stuffing it inside her satchel. “A perfect getaway.”

  The top of the water was as calm as a sheet of ice.

  The embankment on either side rose about fifteen feet off the water. From the front of the first boat, Gilly stood and pointed to something on the right. It appeared to be a small cottage peeking out from the heavy foliage on top of the rise. Was this Gilly’s home? Breen knew the little man lived on the river, but he hadn’t expected it to be quite so isolated. As far as hiding places went, this was certainly a good one.

  Breen helped his father angle the boat toward the bank, where a small dock waited that ran from the water to a set of stairs that scaled the cliffside.

  “We’re here,” Gilly said, hopping out of the first boat onto the rickety wooden slip. He tied the rope to one of the pilings and started climbing up the switchback staircase to the top.

  Breen climbed out of the boat and finished securing it before helping the others out. “For someone who prefers to be alone, this place seems ideal.”

  “Clearly a good spot to keep the witch’s belongings hidden,” his father said as he walked Adarra down the loose planks of the dock to the stairs. Breen was the last one up, directly behind Fraya.

  Gilly stood at the top, waiting patiently for the rest to make it up. As soon as Breen stepped off the stairs, he was moving again. “Come. This way.”

  Instead of taking them into the house, he guided them around the back, where they took a small trail leading even deeper into the forest. Breen, his father, and Orlyn had to duck on more than one occasion to keep from getting their heads caught in the overhead brush.

  “Here we are,” Gilly said, stepping into a small clearing and walking around to the other side of a large hole, probably eight feet in diameter.

  Breen joined the others around the hole, staring down at the murky water that started about two feet down from the top.

  “What’s this?” Veldon asked.

  Gilly smiled. “My hidey-hole.”

  “It’s got water in it,” Feoldor said. “We might as well just toss her stuff in the river, for all the good that’ll do.”

  Gilly shook his head and laughed. “Jump!”

  Feoldor huffed. “What do you mean, jump? You jump. I’m not throwing myself into a freezing bog hole.” He looked at the others. “This was clearly a waste of time.”

  “No!” Gilly shouted, his stout finger pointing straight at Feoldor. It was the first time Breen had ever seen the little man angry. “You jump!”

  Feoldor crossed his arms and took a step back.

  This is getting ridiculous, Breen thought.

  Suddenly, someone flew off the ledge. It was Adarra, satchel and all. But instead of plunging beneath the icy depths into whatever was down there, she landed softly on top of the water.

  Gilly jumped up and down, clapping with excitement. “See! See!”

  Everyone gawked in wonder as Adarra walked across the top of the water from one side of the hole to the other.

  “Here goes nothing,” Breen said, and stepped off the ledge. His feet hit the water, and just like his sister, he didn’t go under. The bottom of his boots sloshed as though walking through a shallow puddle, but other than that, the rest of him remained dry. He looked up at the others and shrugged. “Seems safe.”

  One by one, the other members hopped down into the hole, chatting excitedly about the new experience.

  Gilly was the last one in, after waiting for Feoldor to gather the nerve to jump himself. As soon as the dwarf was in, he pushed his way to the center. “Down.”

  The floor of water suddenly began to sink, lowering everyone into the hole.

  “Whoa, what’s going on?” Feoldor asked.

  “I told you. Down.”

  “I can see we’re going down. But down where?”

  “You’ll see. It’s nice.”

  Breen kept his arm around Fraya as they continued to sink farther into the ground. He watched the hole above them shrink as the wind faded and everything grew silent. They had to be at least thirty feet underground. It was amazing. Pretty soon, the water slowed and then stopped altogether, revealing a stone tunnel behind them that headed back in the general direction of Gilly’s house.

  “This way,” Gilly said as he stepped off the water and into the tunnel.

  Feoldor quickly hopped in behind him, obviously wanting to get on solid ground as soon as possible.

  A spark ignited near the front of the group, and a small blaze erupted in Veldon’s hand, lighting the way ahead. He released the piece of flint hanging from his neck and held up the flame.

  Breen’s father was the last one off the platform. As soon as he stepped into the tunnel behind him, the water shot straight up into the air, filling the hole they had just come down.

  A couple of the members gasped. Feoldor yelped and stumbled back, probably expecting the water to come crashing in and fill the tunnel they were in.

  “We are safe,” Gilly said, walking over to the wall of water blocking the tunnel. “See.” He pushed against the liquid, and it didn’t move.

  Breen walked over and did the same. Amazing! It was cold and wet to the touch, like pushing against a large block of ice. He wondered what it must have been like living in Aldor back when magic had been so prevalent. The wonders they must have seen and accomplished. With a heavy sigh, he finally wiped his hand on his pants and took his place in line as the group followed Gilly, two by two, down the passageway.

  The rock surrounding them was moist and smelled of mildew. Drops of water landed on his head and shoulders as they passed. The tunnel rose about seven or eight feet, so he didn’t have to worry about bumping his head. It twisted and turned, eventually opening into a large cavern with shelves of rock lining the outer wal
ls. A pool of water rested at the center of the cavern, clear enough to see that the bottom wasn’t too far down.

  Crystals growing from somewhere in the water produced a bluish light, bright enough to keep them from tripping on the protruding rock formations.

  A few odds and ends had been left on one of the shelves near the entrance, most of which looked like children’s toys: some carved animals, a wooden puppet, a couple of pinwheels in the shape of flower petals, a top with the string still attached, and a beautifully carved boat about the size of Breen’s hand. Probably Gilly’s collectibles. He was certainly a strange one.

  “What is this place?” Orlyn asked. “It’s quite lovely.” He walked over to the right wall and laid his hand on the shelf, and a spray of winter lilies bloomed to either side. “The soil between the rock is rich.”

  Gilly clapped at the flowers.

  “This is quite the hiding place, Gilly,” Reloria said with a smile, releasing Feoldor’s arm long enough to walk over and take a look at Orlyn’s work. “No one would find the witch’s stuff down here.”

  Veldon kept his flame raised as he circled the cavern. “Yes. But it’s certainly going to take more work on our part.”

  “The extra effort will be worth it,” Breen’s father said, stopping beside the pool to look inside, “if it means keeping her stuff out of the wrong hands.”

  Veldon nodded.

  Fraya tugged on Breen’s arm, indicating she wanted to get closer to the water. So, he helped her to the edge, then knelt and stuck his hand in. It was freezing. “Where’s the water coming from? Does this lead back to the river?”

  “Yes,” Gilly said, walking over and dropping a rock into the pool. It started to sink, but then hit some kind of unseen current and disappeared.

  “Whatever you do, don’t fall in,” his father said half-jokingly.

  Feoldor took a step back from the edge.

  Everyone stood quietly around the pool. Everyone except Sheeva, who maintained her silent vigil near the exit as she kept an eye on the tunnel behind them.

  The cavern was silent, peaceful, with nothing but the flicker of Veldon’s flame and the lap of the water to be heard. Breen took a deep breath and slowly let it out, enjoying the moment.