Plague of Shadows

by Michael Wisehart

  “This isn’t over, smith! I will find you!”

  The current pulled Ferrin around the next bend as he fought to keep Suri’s head above the water. He was a good swimmer. He’d spent years fishing on Lake Baeron, and when the fish weren’t biting and the summer sun was hot, he’d strip and dive in. There were places around the northwest edge of the lake that were so clear, he could see the bottom. But the placid waters of the lake were a far cry from the raging torrent of Virn Run as it sped through the mountain passes.

  By himself, he might have been able to make it. But not only did he have to worry about making sure Suri could breathe, he was also holding on to the precious little supplies they had just purchased in town.

  Something grabbed his shoulder and pulled him under. He choked on the water, fighting to keep Suri above it. Kicking his legs as hard as he could, he resurfaced, gasping for breath.

  “Help! I can’t swim!” Rae screeched, clawing her way up Ferrin’s back.

  “Get off!” he yelled, spitting water with every breath. “You’re going to kill us all!” He couldn’t carry everyone, plus their supplies, and hope to remain above water. He wasn’t sure which travel bag he was carrying. It could have been nothing more than extra blankets, or it could have been their food, or worse, their gold. His fingers were growing numb. Pretty soon, he wouldn’t be able to carry anything.

  They rounded another bend and smacked against the rock on the far side, shaking Rae loose for a brief moment. She paddled instinctively like a dog to keep above water, but no matter how hard she tried, her head kept going back under. Ferrin grabbed her and pulled her up, treading as hard and as fast as he could to keep himself and Suri from going under.

  He knew he had to make a choice. “Use your legs!” he shouted, but Rae was too frightened to understand. She went down again and this time didn’t come back up. He released the bag and swam for her. He dove under the water, taking Suri with him as he blindly swung his arms. His hand grabbed hold of a wad of material and he kicked upward, pulling them all back to the surface.

  Rae and Suri both had too much water in them to even cry, but not enough to keep them from trying to mount his shoulders. “No! Stop fighting! Hold still or I can’t carry you.” Rae ignored him and kept climbing, forcing Ferrin to throw her off. He grabbed her head and dunked her underwater. She came up screaming. “Now stop!”

  Her head bobbed up and down as she gasped for air, but she finally relaxed enough for Ferrin to reach around her neck and up under one arm to pull her to him. With Suri still around his neck and one arm taken up with Rae, it took everything he had to keep afloat. He used his legs to tread and his one arm to guide away from the larger rocks.

  The water was freezing, and his body was already numb, which meant he wasn’t going to be able to keep his legs and arms moving much longer. They rounded another turn, and he spotted a downed tree on the right side, half in the water. It was their only chance.

  He kicked and paddled as hard as he could, and they were still only halfway across. A submerged rock clipped his leg, and pain shot through him as they veered off course, but he didn’t stop kicking and somehow managed to turn them back around. Rae spat and choked as he tried to keep her head above the current. The tree was coming up on the right.

  As strong as he was, he could see they weren’t going to make it, but he didn’t stop. Pulling them through the water like a man possessed, he screamed as he dug in the last few strokes, reaching as far as he could to grab the tree.

  He missed.

  All hope fled, and he was ready to go with it, to let go and give in to the fates. They clearly wanted him dead, anyway, so what was the use of fighting it?

  “Catch!”

  A rope landed on his head and Suri grabbed it. Ferrin, latching on to what little spark of faith he had left, wrapped his arm around it as well, and it went taut, dragging them against the current. Through the water, Ferrin could see Myron clinging to the other side of the downed tree.

  “Hold on!” Myron shouted as he began to pull.

  Ferrin clung to the rope with everything he had. He could no longer feel his fingers; he simply willed them to keep gripping. The current swung them like a pendulum up against the rocky embankment on the far side, where the water wasn’t quite so strong, giving Myron the chance to pull them in.

  “Thought I’d lost you for sure,” Myron said, grabbing Suri and placing her up the tree a little, where she clung to the bark and didn’t move.

  Rae was next. Ferrin helped push her up until Myron could pull her the rest of the way. As soon as she was out, she scurried up to Suri and practically lay on top of her.

  “You’re next, smith. Give me your hand.”

  Myron pulled until Ferrin was half out of the water, barely able to move.

  His entire body shook, his teeth chattering so fast that if he stuck his tongue out, he’d probably bite it off. He laid his head against the soft bark. “I could die right here, and it would be all right.”

  “You’ve got too much to live for,” Myron said, grabbing the travel sacks he’d been carrying and moving up to where Rae and Suri were still lying prostrate across the face of the tree. “What say we not tempt fate any longer and get back on dry ground? If we don’t get a fire started soon, we’re all going to die from the cold.”

  The sun was already down below the rock line, and before long, it would be too dark to see. With a painful grunt, Ferrin pulled himself to his hands and knees and started climbing. Myron moved on ahead and tossed the bags up into the narrow pass where the tree had fallen, then came back down to help the others.

  It took them about ten minutes to scale the tree and make it back to dry ground, and another ten minutes to peel enough bark and twigs off to get a small fire going. Not worrying about proper decorum, they quickly peeled off their soaked clothing and huddled around the flames, leaving on only the smallest amount for simple modesty.

  Slowly, the warmth began to permeate their bodies. Ferrin felt his skin prickle as his blood began to thaw, allowing his fingers to bend once again. It was a long time before he stopped shaking and the heat set in.

  “Well,” Myron said, looking back over the river, “we’re alive.”

  “Barely,” Ferrin added, still trying to get his fingers working. “I lost one of our travel bags, I’m afraid.” He glanced at Rae, but she ignored him and kept her eyes on the fire. “And I’m not sure which one it was.”

  “Food, I’m afraid,” Myron said.

  “What about the gold?” Ferrin asked. “The bags from my horse had the gold.”

  “Then it’s a good thing I grabbed those first,” Myron said with a smile.

  Ferrin released a heavy sigh. “Thankful for that, at least.”

  “We have much to be thankful for,” Myron said. “Not only did we escape Sylas, the Black Watch, and a bulradoer, but we survived the raging waters of Virn Run and managed to land on the very side we were trying to get to all along.”

  Ferrin turned and looked down at the river behind them. He hadn’t thought about that till now. He smiled. They had made it to the other side after all.

  Chapter 84 | Ayrion

  AYRION SHOOK HIS HEAD, throwing wet strands of black hair from his face as he stepped through to the other side of the falls. He held his swords up, bracing for an attack that never came.

  The tunnel was shrouded in darkness, making it difficult to see, even for one with Upakan eyes. He stood to the side and waited for the rest of his fighters to make it through, maybe forty strong, less than half of what they had started with, including those Tameel had brought with him from the Justice House.

  Tameel stayed behind, along with those too injured to continue, and kept an eye on the unconscious creatures.

  Abiah had spent as much time as he could sifting through the bodies, looking for Willem. If his son was still alive, he should have still been recognizable. He’d only been taken the day before, and as far as Ayrion could tell, a full transformation took several
days.

  The search had proven fruitless.

  Ayrion took a few more steps inside the dark passageway, keeping to the balls of his feet, ready to spring into action. The stench of decay was more pervasive here than in the open chamber on the other side of the falls.

  “Oy, I’m gonna be sick,” Abiah said as he stepped through the water and took his first big whiff. He turned toward the wall and emptied his stomach. His retching quickly elicited responses from others.

  Bek unwrapped the thick strips of cloth they’d tied to keep the torches dry and ignited the pitch with a striker. He passed one back and joined Ayrion at the front. The way ahead wasn’t much larger than the mining tunnels leading out. Ayrion could see a glimmer of light coming from what looked like another open chamber ahead.

  “Interesting,” Bek said as he lifted the torch to get a better look.

  “Yes,” Ayrion said. “It’s quite the hideaway.”

  Abiah moved up beside them, wiping his mouth. “I can think of a few better places.” His face was pale.

  Once the rest of their small band of brave citizens had made it through the water, Ayrion started them forward, careful to keep from stepping on the litter of human remains at their feet.

  “I believe we have finally found the nest,” Bek said as he spun his hatchet around in one hand, looking eager to sink it into something.

  Ayrion kept his eyes on the tunnel ahead. “I can see why Argon chose it. It’s highly defensible. Absolutely no chance of sunlight breaking through.”

  “And if one could ignore the rather distasteful décor of entrails,” Zynora said, keeping a few steps behind as she leaned heavily on one of the villagers, “the place has a certain kind of natural beauty to it.”

  Ayrion was surprised Zynora was still on her feet. Tameel had force-fed her two apples, a cut of meat, and three pieces of strong cheese before she managed to make it up to the falls. Even then, it took the help of three men to get her there. She was as determined as the rest to see this through.

  Ayrion brought them to a halt at the end of the passageway. The open chamber ahead was nowhere near the size of the one they’d just left with its waterfall and winding canal. It was closer to the size of the entryway at the Justice House.

  “Welcome,” Argon said, his booming voice filling the cavern.

  On the far side of the room against the back wall, an outcropping of rock rose halfway to the ceiling. A set of stone steps built into the side led all the way to the top, where a large piece of granite, which had been chiseled out to form a monolithic seat, sat near the front.

  Ayrion wondered if this place had been here all along, or if Argon had built it since his release.

  Argon greeted them with outstretched arms, reclining comfortably in a rather kingly fashion. The chamber felt like the throne room from some obscure palace, which undeniably fit Argon’s inflated sense of self-worth. All that was missing was his crown.

  “Ah, and I see you brought dinner,” Argon said with a wicked grin.

  Ayrion scanned the surrounding rock, looking for the vulraaks he had seen following Argon through the water. They were nowhere to be seen. There was, however, a rather large firepit just below the shelf of rock Argon was sitting on, lighting the entire chamber with its flames. Piles of bones and carcasses lay scattered around the edges.

  “Your army has been thwarted,” Ayrion said, daring a few steps into the cavern. “Whatever plans you had for Aldor end here.”

  Argon threw back his head and roared. His laughter shook the surrounding rock, encouraging some of Ayrion’s own men to scurry back into the darker recess of the tunnel behind them.

  “You think your short-lived victory over those pathetic wretches constitutes my surrender? Then you have no idea who I am or what I’m capable of. When I’m through, I will have raised an army that envelops all of Aldor.” Argon leaned forward in his stone seat, veins as dark as the crystal that hung from his neck, bulging through his white skin. “I have seen this generation’s fear of magic. You have grown weak and complacent. A thousand years of fear has ripened you for conquest. Aldor needs a leader, one that can bring back the glories it once possessed and the power it once held.”

  “And you believe yourself to be such a person?”

  Argon’s red eyes shone bright. “Who better? It was I, and those ven’ae like me, who helped throw back our faerie oppressors, who gave rise to the great Wizard Council, who brought freedom and enlightenment to the peoples of Aldor.” His face suddenly darkened. “Look how they repaid us! They hunted us down. Forced us into hiding. They used those cursed faerie collars to control us. With the durmas around our necks, we were no more than slaves to their will. Can you blame us for fighting back?”

  “That’s not quite the way I heard it told,” Zynora said, stepping out to join Ayrion in the light. “It was the wizards, or at least a faction of them, who were the aggressors. They began to believe themselves more than human. Believed that because of their gifts, they were above the law. It was you and your kind’s lust for power that prodded your delving into darker magics like necromancy, twisting it into something perverse.” Zynora sneered. “It was you and your master’s desire for domination that led to the Wizard Wars.”

  Argon glared at the old Rhivanni healer. “I see history has once again been written by the victors. But that will soon change.”

  “You speak of uniting Aldor, of bringing back some former age of glory.” Ayrion pointed his sword at the piles of bodies covering the cavern floor. “Is this your vision, then? Feeding on the helpless, molding humans into some twisted image of yourself? If so, I see why they locked you away for the last millennium.”

  Argon shrugged. “Every war has its casualties. Only a true leader is willing to make the sacrifices necessary to accomplish his goal. I can see in your eyes you are a man who knows this all too well.”

  Ayrion took another step forward, moving completely out of the shadows of the tunnel. “And only a true leader is willing to put the people under his charge above himself.” Ayrion pointed a sword toward the rise. “You are no leader, Argon. You’re a coward and a bully, a parasite that feeds off the lives of others.”

  Argon stood, his lips parting in a harsh sneer. “Bring them!”

  Out from behind the large throne-shaped rock, five vulraaks emerged from a crevice in the rock, each dragging at least one unturned person with them. Most were children.

  A shield for a coward, Ayrion thought, feeling sick.

  “I like my meat young and fresh,” Argon said. “Much softer to chew before they are turned.”

  “Willem! It’s my Willem!” Abiah pushed his way to the front, but Bek grabbed the desperate man by the shoulders and pulled him back.

  Willem shouted as soon as he caught sight of his father, but the creature holding his leash backhanded him across the face and pushed him forward to stand with the rest at the edge of the shelf.

  “Let go of me!” Abiah roared. “That’s my son up there!”

  “Yes,” Bek said, “and the last thing he needs is for you to go running out there like a madman and get him killed.”

  Abiah offered a reluctant nod, but Ayrion could see in his eyes that if it wasn’t for Bek’s strong grip, the man wouldn’t still be standing there.

  “Well, what’s it to be, warrior? You leave now, and I’ll let these young ones go, untouched. Or shall we see how much you are willing to sacrifice?”

  The children were shaking, most openly crying. Even Willem had tears in his eyes as the vulraaks pressed their sharp claws against their captives’ throats.

  “Better yet,” Argon said, sliding to the edge of his seat, “shall we test your steel against mine? You speak of sacrifice. Let’s see how far you’re willing to go.”

  “Give me a moment to consider.” Ayrion turned to those behind him.

  “I’m not considering anything,” Abiah said.

  “Neither am I,” Ayrion countered, keeping is voice lowered. “Now, how many of
you think you could hit those vulraaks from here with an arrow?”

  “I can,” Abiah said, shrugging out of Bek’s grip. “Give me a crossbow. I can hit them from here.”

  “Good. Find four more who can as well. As soon as I draw Argon away from the rise, take the shot.”

  “And what are you going to do?” Zynora asked.

  “Whatever I have to.” Ayrion turned around and strode farther into the chamber, gripping his swords, feeling the smooth curves of the dragon crossguards pressing against the backs of his fingers. Here goes nothing.

  Argon’s clawed toes gripped the edge of the rock as he sneered down at him from the top of the ledge.

  “You wanted to know what I’d be willing to risk. Well, here I am,” Ayrion said, lifting his arms out to the sides. “As you can see, I’m willing to put my life on the line. How about you?”

  The creature chuckled. “Oh, I’m more than willing to put your life on the line as well.” With a powerful push of his legs, Argon leaped into the air and landed on Ayrion’s left, just out of sword-reach. Aerodyne’s former general rose to full height, towering over Ayrion. “It will be my pleasure to cut you into pieces and cook you over the fire.”

  Ayrion raised his blades. “You’ll find no pleasure here.”

  Argon glanced over Ayrion’s shoulder, back toward the entrance. “Keep your people back, or I’ll let them watch the children get fed upon.”

  “Stay back!” Ayrion shouted over his shoulder, not looking away.

  Argon raised his sword. “This is going to be a short fight.”

  “Good,” Ayrion said with a cold grin. “You made me miss my dinner.”

  Argon’s meaty lips curled back to reveal a full set of sharp fangs. “You are dinner,” he said, then charged.

  Chapter 85 | Ayrion

  AYRION SAW THE ATTACK before it happened and deflected Argon’s blade. He sidestepped and readied himself for the backswing he knew was coming. He ducked, and Argon’s blade sheared off a piece of granite behind him as thick as Ayrion’s chest.