Dreaming in the Dark: Chains of the Fallen Volume 1 (Soul Force Saga Book 4)

by James E. Wisher

  The bubble slowed and descended toward the castle yard.

  “Thank heaven,” Edward murmured. It seemed her second hadn’t acquired a taste for flying yet.

  Two women were waiting for them. The first was tall and slim with dark hair and dressed in trousers and a tunic. From the description, that had to be Lane. The woman beside her was heavy set and shorter, but she carried herself with the air of a person used to being obeyed.

  They landed and the bubble vanished. “Do you require anything else?” the sorcerer asked.

  “I think we’re good,” Jen said. “Thanks for the ride.”

  The sorcerer bowed and shot back into the air. She shouldn’t have any trouble returning to the capital before dark.

  Jen led her team over and thrust out a hand. “Lane Thorn?”

  “That’s right. My mother told me to expect you though she was a little vague on the purpose of your visit.”

  “I’m a little vague on it also. There was a mass murder committed by a southerner working with an ogre. The archmage wants me to see if he was part of a group or working on his own. Our theory is he might have come up from the Bandit Kingdom.”

  “That doesn’t seem quite enough to warrant transport from one of the archmage’s personal guard,” the older woman said.

  “Excuse me,” Lane said. “Allow me to introduce Baroness Trasker. Baroness, this is Jennifer St. Cloud, Damien’s older sister.”

  Jen bowed and her men followed suit. “An honor, Baroness.”

  “How is Damien?” the baroness asked.

  “Well, thank you. Do you know my brother?”

  “We have a passing acquaintance. He saved my life, along with the lives of the other baronesses and our children. For that act I have nothing but warmth in my heart for the boy. How may the barony be of service?”

  “I was promised an introduction to the captain of the guard, and eventually we’ll need horses and provisions. That’s about all I can think of for the moment.”

  “Easily done. Weld is interrogating a prisoner just now, but he should be finished shortly. Perhaps you’d like to refresh yourselves after your journey? At least something to slake your thirst.”

  “Thank you, Baroness, we’d be glad to receive your hospitality.”

  “Excellent, this way.” She turned and marched toward the castle.

  Lane fell in beside Jen. “How has Damien been? I know the fight with Connor Blackman took a lot out of him.”

  “Don’t underestimate my brother. He was ready to go ten rounds with a demon two months after the battle at the pass. He’s exploring some subterranean ruins right now. Between you and me, I wish he was somewhere closer to hand. I don’t know how much I should tell the barons, but your mother assured me I could be straight with you. It’s possible we’re in a serious situation. My job is to figure out how serious. Worst case scenario, we might be in for a rougher time than last year.”

  “You’re kidding,” Lane said, her voice strangled.

  “I’m dead serious. I might also be dead wrong. That’s what we’re trying to figure out.”

  “I’m at your disposal. Anything you need, just ask.”

  “Come on, you two,” the baroness said.

  Jen hadn’t noticed how far behind they’d fallen. The two women hurried to catch up. Hopefully, she could think up some good excuses for their extraordinary means of arrival, and even that might not be enough to fool the baroness. She had the look of a shrewd mind. You probably didn’t last long as a baroness if you were an idiot.

  Chapter Fifteen

  High in the mountains at the northern edge of the kingdom, the air was cool even in late summer. Marie-Bell breathed deep of the fresh, crisp air as it might be the last she enjoyed for a while. Her conjured mount hung in the sky as she studied the jagged mountains. The highest peaks already had a dusting of snow. Her divine soul force created a barrier to the cold, but didn’t block it completely. Once they crossed over, the aura would also protect her from the corrosive effects of demonic corruption.

  Despite Marie-Bell’s best efforts to persuade her, Imogen refused to stay behind. The beautiful sorcerer hovered beside Marie-Bell, a golden sphere containing their supplies at her side. They’d bought enough food to last three months. If it took longer than that to locate the artifacts, they’d probably be dead, either killed by demons or smashed by some clever trap. Neither possibility appealed to Marie-Bell.

  “Are you sure we have to go there?” Imogen asked.

  Her partner in this mission hadn’t been thrilled when Marie-Bell explained that the armor waited somewhere near Connor Blackman’s cave. Imogen had been held there and used as an energy source for weeks. For a moment she dared hope their destination would dissuade her from coming, but Imogen’s expression had instead hardened with determination.

  “That’s where my former master fell in battle,” Marie-Bell said. “And she was wearing the armor at the time. If it’s not there, hopefully we can find a trail. It’s not too late to change your mind.”

  Imogen snorted. “Not a chance. Maybe we can find some of Blackman’s demon buddies and blast them to pieces.”

  “I’d just as soon avoid a fight. Using our powers will draw more attention than is healthy.”

  “If you say so. How about getting going before I catch a cold?”

  Marie-Bell smiled and willed her mount to fly east. Imogen’s soul force protected her just as Marie-Bell’s protected her, so there was no way the cold troubled her. Imogen probably wanted to move before she lost her nerve.

  It would have taken weeks to cross the mountains on foot, but flying they managed it in under an hour. The moment they crossed the dividing line, a shock of evil slammed into her magical awareness.

  The darkness surrounded her and tried to claw through her protections. It felt like a physical presence. Like the air itself wanted to kill her. A haze filled her vision, tinging everything red.

  Nothing lived here. The emptiness tried to swallow her whole.

  Marie-Bell’s breath came in ragged gulps. Her heart raced and sweat beaded on her forehead.

  A demon she could fight, but this? This miasma that permeated everything? How did you fight all of reality?

  “Hey!” Imogen was floating only a foot away. “What is it?”

  “Can’t you feel it? The darkness. It’s everywhere.”

  “You’re reaching out too far,” Imogen said. “Pull back. Focus inward. Take slow, deep breaths.”

  Marie-Bell did as she said and soon the darkness faded to a background presence, something she caught at the corner of her eye, but didn’t overwhelm her. Her racing heart slowed as she got herself under control.

  “I’m okay now. Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome. I would have thought they’d teach you this sort of technique at wherever paladins train.”

  “I know the technique, but the aura of this place hit me so fast I didn’t have time to react. That’s not an excuse. If a demon had been close, it would have had me helpless. Don’t worry, I won’t lose control again.” Marie-Bell wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince, Imogen or herself.

  They flew down to just above the ground and turned north. From what Damien had told her after the battle, Blackman’s lair wasn’t far from the mountains. Hopefully they wouldn’t have much trouble finding the battleground.

  Half an hour later Marie-Bell’s hopes were answered, but not in the way she’d expected. Ahead of them, dozens of figures dressed in paladin armor and tabards fought each other. Even from a distance, with her awareness drawn in, she could sense the corruption flowing through them. Someone had raised them as zombies and forced them to act out a battle. Her lip curled and hot rage filled her. No one treated her comrades like that and got away with it.

  Marie-Bell landed and allowed her mount to vanish. Though she hated to risk letting the darkness in, she had to see if one of the zombies had on the armor. Steeling herself, she reached out with her awareness.

  Disappointmen
t and relief warred within her when she didn’t find the fragment of divine soul force housed in the armor. Her master hadn’t been animated with the others, but if she wasn’t here, where was she?

  “Look to your left, near that clump of boulders,” Imogen said.

  Marie-Bell looked and after a moment spotted a foot-tall demon with red skin, short horns, and long fingers with far too many joints capering amid the stones. “What is it?”

  “Focus your sight on its fingers. If you look closely, you’ll see black threads coming off them and running to the zombies. I think it’s a puppet master demon.”

  “I’ve never heard of such a thing.” Marie-Bell squinted and could just make out the threads Imogen mentioned.

  “I read about them at the Tower, but I’ve never seen one in person. They’re supposed to be weak in direct combat, hence the need for puppets.”

  “I can’t believe it hasn’t noticed us yet,” Marie-Bell said.

  “I think it’s having too much fun. I bet we could sneak around this group and continue on our way.”

  “No, even if I could leave the others to their fate, the commander’s body isn’t among them. That thing must know where it is since it robbed the battlefield to get those corpses.”

  “So, what, you want to capture it?” The way Imogen said it made Marie-Bell’s suggestion sound crazy. Which on the surface it sort of was.

  “Exactly. We catch it, question it, then kill it.”

  “Okay, how?”

  “I’ll charge in and draw its attention. Once it’s focused on me, you cage it.”

  “Wouldn’t your divine soul force make a better cage for a demon?” Imogen asked.

  “Yes, but my power is more likely to draw demonic attention than yours. Better if I don’t have to use it any more than necessary.”

  A high shriek ended the discussion. The puppet master had noticed them and was pointing in their direction. The zombies shuffled their way, slow but determined.

  “Go!” Marie-Bell raised her hammer and charged the undead paladins.

  Her first blow caved in the chest of a young man and sent him flying into an older woman.

  A second blow crushed the head of a bearded veteran.

  She didn’t dare look too close at any of their faces lest the sight of an old acquaintance slow her hand.

  An explosion sounded from the direction of the demon and the zombies’ movements became jerky, jerkier anyway. Marie-Bell took advantage of Imogen’s distraction to mow down as many of the undead as possible.

  With each blow her anger grew. How dare that monster desecrate the bodies of holy warriors in such a way!

  Crash, another one dropped.

  It was an abomination.

  She broke both legs of another.

  Damn the monster back to whatever Hell it crawled out of.

  Marie-Bell was drawing back to smash another zombie, when they all collapsed like puppets with their strings cut. Beside the boulders, Imogen had the puppet master wrapped up in a soul force bubble, cutting off all the dark threads from its fingers.

  “You caught it!” Marie-Bell hurried over to congratulate her partner.

  Imogen nodded. “It didn’t even put up much of a fight. I did my part. Getting it to talk is your job.”

  Marie-Bell leaned on her hammer and eyed the captured demon. It made an obscene gesture in her direction and stuck out its tongue.

  Charming.

  “One of the bodies had on special armor, where is it?”

  The puppet master bent over and farted at her. Imogen stifled a laugh.

  They weren’t very far into the Haunted Lands. It should be safe to use a little divine energy. And even if it wasn’t, the demon wasn’t going to talk without coaxing.

  Marie-Bell made her hand glow bright white and took a step closer. “I’m giving you one last chance to talk before I burn the information out of you.”

  The little demon shrank back from the glow and hissed.

  “That’s right, I know what this does to your kind. Talk!”

  It spat against the side of its cage. “Nasty armor stopped my threads. Gave that one to Grimgar, kept the rest for myself.”

  “Where is Grimgar?” Marie-Bell asked.

  “Warlock cave. Go see. Grimgar will eat you both.”

  Marie-Bell caught Imogen’s eye and nodded. The cage collapsed until the puppet master was nothing but a cloud of noxious gas that blew away as soon as the barrier vanished. A proper end to a monster that defiled the bodies of her former comrades. It was time to move on to Grimgar, whatever that was.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Sig flew above the frozen wasteland and tried to spot his rivals through the wind-driven snow. It was an exercise in futility. He sensed their life forces; dozens of ogres swarmed the area below. They moved in three distinct groups of between ten and twenty. War-bands were generally far larger than twenty, so the other contenders must have selected only their finest troops. Probably a good idea since he doubted the dragon would like it if hundreds of her soldiers got killed hunting linnorms.

  His first thought was to simply keep his distance, let the others do the hunting for him and swoop in to steal the prize, or if they failed, kill the weakened linnorm himself. Unfortunately, he doubted the other groups would allow him that luxury. At least in the sky he didn’t have to worry about ambushes.

  He’d been flying along a safe distance behind the others for nearly an hour when the boredom came close to overwhelming him. The constant flying and producing heat drained his soul force faster than it regenerated. Sig needed a safe place to land and hole up. There were easier ways to track his prey.

  A range of low, snow-covered hills caught his eye. Maybe he’d find a cave or thick stand of evergreens down there to hide him while he searched. The ogres were hundreds of yards from his position, so landing should be safe.

  Ten feet from the ground, six lean, wiry forms leapt out of the snow and grabbed him.

  Surprise combined with the sudden extra weight dragged him to the snow.

  Four-inch-long, razor-sharp claws scraped across his shield, seeking a weak spot.

  Sig recovered quickly from the shock of the ambush, gathered power, and sent lances of soul force out into the bodies of his attackers, driving them away.

  Scrambling to his feet, Sig watched the deep wounds he’d inflicted heal in seconds. With their gaunt frames, scaly skin, long noses, and fang-filled mouths, the trolls were easy to recognize even without their accelerated healing.

  That healing ability made them as hard to deal with as ogres. Only a wound that instantly killed them would get the job done. A pair of trolls wouldn’t have concerned him, but six might be tricky.

  Tricky or not, the ugly things circled him, preparing to strike again.

  Sig expanded his shield out from his body and drew deep from his core. A troll rushed in, claws raised. Ropes of saliva streamed from its gaping mouth.

  A blast of unshaped soul force took it in the face, blowing its head to pieces.

  Good luck regenerating from that.

  The remaining five howled and charged in together.

  He blasted another, blowing a hole in its chest and vaporizing its heart.

  Three surrounded him, scratching against his shield to little effect. The fourth leapt on top of the dome and stomped away.

  The attacks had no hope of breaching his barrier, but the constant minor damage forced him to maintain a flow of soul force to keep it intact.

  His core was draining way too fast for his liking.

  Sig needed to end this fight right now.

  Focusing like they taught them at the Tower, he lashed out with three spears of energy, piercing the trolls on the ground through their hearts, killing them instantly.

  A soul force hand grabbed the survivor, immobilizing it long enough for a conjured blade to take its head.

  Sig gasped in relief and retracted his shield. Only a quarter of his soul force remained. He needed a safe place to re
cover. Flying would stress his reserves too much, but conjured snowshoes should work.

  A few seconds of searching turned up the path the trolls had taken to the ambush site. He followed it back, dodging around trees and the occasional giant mound of snow, alert for any stragglers. At the end of the trail, a trio of round snow shelters waited. They had low entrances and high, domed ceilings. Not the sturdiest structures, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.

  Sig crawled through the entrance and stood inside. The stink made the uncured hides in the ogre tunnels seem like roses. Raw meat hung from the ceiling in long strips. He didn’t know what animal they came from and he didn’t care to look too closely.

  One corner was covered in pelts and he grimaced before sitting down. He didn’t care if it took every scrap of soul force in his body. When this hunt ended, he was going to heat water and take a good, long bath. Turning his focus inward, Sig directed the flow of soul force to his core. He needed to recover quickly and get back in the game.

  Chapter Seventeen

  After a dreadful night’s sleep and a bowl of bland porridge, Dorius sprang to his feet and declared he knew where they needed to go. That was an hour ago and now Damien trudged along behind the professor through empty streets toward a supposed stairwell that led to the next level.

  Damien only paid half a mind to their path. The dark stone buildings mingled with the equally dark cavern to become a blur of shadows. If his father had seen him so distracted while walking through unknown territory, Damien would have gotten a swift crack to the side of the head.

  Regardless, he couldn’t stop worrying about the strange encounter he and Lizzy had experienced in the psychic world last night. He hadn’t really gotten a sense of danger from it, more like the presence wanted to tell them something but lacked the strength to complete the link. Damien wasn’t sure if he wanted to make that connection even if it was possible. Whatever they’d met must have been down here for heaven only knew how long. It could be insane or a disembodied spirit looking for someone to control.