"Let me take a look," I said. "There's no point walking straight into an ambush." Quintus thought for a moment, then nodded. I walked quickly up the steps. Jamar moved to follow, but I waved him back. I passed Arianwyn, and ducked around the door.
I saw nothing; or rather I saw nothing of use. The atrium was full of swirling green mist, but completely empty of revenants. The statues of beneficent Sidarists were gone, and in their places stood raven-headed likenesses of Malgyne, struck from some dark stone. Above, the plaster coving that had once carried bas relief scenes of Sidara's life now portrayed horrific scenes of carnage – the living dragged to oblivion by the dead.
Suppressing a shudder, I rejoined Arianwyn. Quintus threw me a questioning look, and I jerked my head towards the atrium. Quintus barked a command and the praetorians started forward. Jamar advanced alongside, unwilling to leave me in the company of strangers.
The tortured groaning of the door redoubled. Arianwyn's grip was slipping – the cathedral was resealing itself. Jamar and the praetorians broke into a run. They weren't going to be quick enough. Already there was barely enough space for a man to pass through. In a few seconds there wouldn't even be that.
Should we give up? I glanced at Arianwyn for guidance. As I did so, she snatched the portalstone from my grasp and slipped inside.
Should I follow? I was momentarily torn, but realised that to prevaricate was merely to let the closing door make the decision for me. With one last glance at Quintus, I plunged into the mist.
A second later, the door slammed shut. For better or worse, Arianwyn and I were now alone in the cathedral.
We stood without making a sound for several long moments, waiting to see if the noise of our entry had attracted any unwelcome attention. Thankfully, it seemed that it had not, for not so much as a single revenant loomed out of the mist.
Arianwyn finally broke the silence. "Death's influence is spreading," she noted calmly. "I assume it's a natural change, rather than one he wills to occur."
"It would speak ill of his priorities otherwise," I agreed. "What went wrong? You lost control of the door quicker than before."
"Yes, I did, didn't I?"
I looked at he, realisation dawning. "You didn't lose control of it, did you? You wanted the others stranded outside."
"It seemed sensible," Arianwyn replied. "If we can't manage this, having another fifty or so praetorians sacrifice themselves wouldn't make much difference."
I clenched and unclenched my fists before speaking. "I can't keep the revenants off you by myself."
"You won't need to. I can handle that."
"Really?" I asked incredulously. "Then why am I here?"
"You're here because you chose to be," Arianwyn hissed angrily. "You were supposed to be outside with the others." She took a deep breath. "I meant to do this alone."
And with that, I understood. "Just how dangerous is this?"
"That's the problem, I don't know. Solomon's understanding of the portalstone went only so far. I started thinking that maybe my magic's risen in response to what Death is attempting, that perhaps it's – and please don't laugh – something predestined; a cycle of history repeated." She searched my expression for any trace of ridicule, continuing only when she didn't find one. "If it's my burden, there's no reason to endanger anyone else."
I sighed, my anger receding. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I've only recently seen the sense of it. Besides, you'd have tried to stop me. You and Constans both."
"Whereas now, of course, everything's proceeding to our mutual satisfaction," I said failing to conceal my exasperation.
I was as frustrated with myself as much as with Arianwyn. Her explanation made twisted sense from her own point of view, but it only emphasised how much I'd failed her. Her anger with Solomon and Constans had burned bright, but it had finally passed, leaving emptiness and doubt in its wake. No matter how she rationalised it, Arianwyn had intended to sacrifice herself in an attempt to save everyone else. I'd inflicted something similar on myself a little more than six months ago, and had only in the last few days realised how much that act had coloured my choices and perceptions. Loss had driven me then, just as it drove Arianwyn now. Should I have paid closer attention to what Solomon had told her? Who knew what subtle venoms he'd dripped into her ears?
"I'm sorry," Arianwyn sighed. "You shouldn't be here."
"I most definitely should," I said firmly. "I'd be mad with worry on the other side of that door. I'd also have to answer to both Zorya and Constans for letting you out of my sight. That's not a conversation that I think I could survive. To be honest, I'm not sure I'd much want to."
She gave a small smile. "Edric Saran, always a gallant prince."
"Look, I don't rightly know how things are between us, but surely you see that somewhere along the line your burdens became mine? That's how friendship work. At the least we are friends, are we not?"
"At the very least," she agreed quietly.
"Maybe this is a matter of destiny. Personally, I suspect your mastery of magic is growing because you're using it, but perhaps I'm wrong. I'm not sure it matters now. The situation is what it is. We'll just have to do the best we can." I stared past Arianwyn and down into the main body of the cathedral. "I don't suppose you can open the door from the inside, and quickly?"
"The former, probably. The latter, no."
"Then we'll need whatever trick you had up your sleeve to make it past the revenants. It seems they've finally noticed us."
I took a long step in front of Arianwyn and drew my sword. Revenants were drifting towards the atrium. It was hard to be certain of numbers through the mist, the precise number didn't matter– there were plainly too many to fight. I'd have to hope that Arianwyn really did have a plan.
In this matter at least, it seemed I needn't have worried. The revenants had closed no more than a few feet away from me when a familiar white light radiated outward from Arianwyn's body, driving back the mist.
"You'll need to stay close to me," she warned. "If Solomon's right, the revenants can't enter the light, but I'm sure they'll show no hesitation in attacking you if you step beyond."
What else had Solomon told Arianwyn? At least her fatalistic manner was gone. I hoped it would stay banished until we were in a much safer place.
The nave was deathly quiet. The only sounds were caused by our footfalls, and even those were muffled by the mist. Our progress was slow at first, with neither of us entirely sure whether Solomon's theory could be trusted. Yet if the revenants weren't noticeably intimidated by Arianwyn's light, neither did they try to approach. Indeed, they even parted before us. I quickened my pace. Past experience had taught me Arianwyn's power had limits. I wanted to be done with things before those limits were reached.
There were no bodies in the aisles, which I found strange. Between the stampede and the revenants' onset, no few Tressians had died here. Where were they? Had the bodies been thrown into the abyss, or had the revenants consumed them? I didn't know, and didn't appreciate the macabre turn my thoughts were taking.
Gods, but there were a lot of revenants in the cathedral now. I saw at least a hundred, but the swirling mists could easily have held more. Those that weren't watching us – or getting out of our path – seemed to have all of their attention fixed on Malgyne. For his part, the God of the Dead still floated above the abyss where we'd left him, his eyes closed and his mind seemingly elsewhere.
Finally I saw the altar. It was no longer the simple slab of black marble it had been when last I'd seen it, but a twisted mass of what appeared to be a dark and petrified wood.
"That's where we need to be," Arianwyn said tautly.
We skirted perilously close to the abyss – it was that or take a circuitous route around the tightly-packed pews. I led Arianwyn by the hand again now, for her eyes were pinched shut with concentration as often as they were open. I took care to make sure I stood between her and the abyss at all times.
When we were
halfway round, curiosity got the better of me, and I peered into the swirling void. It was like some enormous creature had burrowed through the floor, leaving a tunnel of swirling darkness in its wake. The effect was both hypnotic and calming – not at all what I'd expected. I only realised I'd lost my balance when Arianwyn heaved my arm to halt my topple into the pit. She gave me a disapproving look, but left it at that. I travelled the rest of the way by carefully watching my feet, and never once risked another look into the abyss.
"We're at the altar," I said softly.
Olvas' crosier lay forlornly on the floor nearby. It was strangely untouched by the transformations that had reshaped the cathedral, and I wondered whether Malgyne had overlooked it, or whether he couldn't affect it, just as he supposedly couldn't directly affect me. If that was the case, it suggested there was something divine about Sidara, though I supposed that knowledge would be little comfort to Olvas now.
Arianwyn opened her eyes and placed the portalstone in the centre of the altar. I expected it to roll away, but it just sat there and glimmered slightly in Arianwyn's light.
"Can you make it work and keep the revenants back?"
"We'll just have to see, won't we?" she replied. "If I can't, you might get some use out of that sword."
I'd quite forgotten I held the weapon. So far, no revenant had come close enough to provoke its use. "Let's at least try this from around the other side. The altar's not likely to offer much protection, but I'll feel better with it between us and Malgyne."
Arianwyn nodded in agreement, so we went around the altar. I'd been wrong. I didn't feel better at all, not one bit.
"I'm going to start," said Arianwyn. "Don't interrupt me, not for anything. I can't risk breaking my concentration."
She knelt and clasped her hands around the portalstone. Realising that seeking anything further would almost certainly constitute a distraction, I tightened my grip on my sword, and split my attention as evenly as I could between Malgyne, Arianwyn, and the nearest revenants.
If I was expecting a gaudy display of power, I was disappointed. Arianwyn knelt there for a time, silently communing with the portalstone. At least her aura didn't vanish. The light glowed as strongly as ever, and no revenant came near. Unfortunately, it seemed nothing else was happening either. Even when Arianwyn started whispering something under her breath, the stone remained recalcitrantly dormant.
Malgyne's eyes snapped open. His hollow voice echoed through the cathedral. "My thanks, mortals."
Arianwyn screamed and jerked away from the portalstone. Wisps of smoke rose from her trembling hands. The aura flickered.
I pulled her away from the altar. There was no sign of a mark or burn on her hands, but her face was twisted in agony. I stepped between her and Malgyne, blade at the ready – for all the good that would do.
"I thought I'd lost this opportunity," he laughed, his voice a storm of angry birds. "You should have taken the portalstone as far from here as you could manage, but something stopped you, didn't it?" He gathered in his wings and landed heavily before of the altar. "The grey eternal. The clever ones are always the easiest to deceive. They distrust simple answers and blind themselves to truths easily won. All those years of work, all those careful schemes. And every step he took carried him further away from his goal, and brought me closer to mine."
Malgyne extended an emaciated arm towards the portalstone. My sword was moving before I realised I'd intended to strike. No rational thought guided that blow, just a desperate desire to do something – anything – to prevent the utter ruin coming our way.
The blow never landed. Malgyne tore the sword from my grasp and threw it into the mist. "Childish piqué. But I'm feeling generous. I'll let you live to see what you've failed to prevent."
"You mean you can't hurt me any more than I can hurt you," I clutched at anger to save me from drowning in despair. "Ashana protects me, and those creatures of yours can't penetrate the light."
"True," Malgyne allowed. "But your companion does not enjoy Ashana's blessing. I can destroy her quite easily, and without her magic you would die on my revenants' blades. But I'm not going to kill her. Another has prior claim, and I must see he is not disappointed. Tedious are the details that dog the road to greatness."
A bolt of black energy flew from his outstretched fingers and struck the portalstone. All at once, the green flecks within the artefact glowed brilliantly. The abyss spun faster and faster. Malgyne laughed again, the sonorous sound grew louder and louder as it reverberated around the room.
Tearing my attention away from something I had no hope of preventing, I turned back to Arianwyn. She was still sitting where I'd pushed her, groggily shaking her head. Her hands shook. I took them in mine and flinched. Her fingers were cold as ice.
As I massaged some life back into her hands, Arianwyn turned blearily eyes on me. "What happened? Did Solomon deceive us?"
It was clear she'd heard few – if any – of Malgyne's words. "More like he deceived himself," I said grimly. "It seems the portalstone was crucial to Malgyne's plan all along."
Arianwyn looked up in shock. "But that means..."
"I know. Believe me, I know."
The sound of marching feet joined Malgyne's laughter. Where was my sword? I saw no sign of it in the mist-laden darkness. I needed a weapon. Perhaps I could wrest one off a revenant, if I could get Arianwyn moving.
She pulling her hands away and pushing herself upright. "What are we going to do?"
"I don't know, but staying here won't do any good."
I pulled Arianwyn away from the altar, in the direction where I'd last seen my sword. As before, the revenants parted before us and I grimly wondered how long that would last. To my right lay a small door leading to Olvas' chambers. Before us lay the great stained glass window of Sidara confronting the corrupted Droshna. There, at last, on the ground below it, was my sword.
"Oh no," I breathed.
"What?" Arianwyn followed my gaze. The blade of my sword was afire, just as it had been in Otherworld.
No sooner was the sword back in my grasp than the aura of light flickered once more, and faded.
With the light no longer a barrier, the revenants surged forward. I dragged Arianwyn towards the archimandrite's chambers. Driving a pair of attackers away with a desperate swing of my sword, I kicked the door open and pushed Arianwyn inside.
A revenant darted forward whilst my back was turned, but I'd expected such a move. I ducked under the creature's clumsy swing, and lunged. As the white fires consumed the revenant, I stepped back into the doorway, sweeping my blade to discourage any further attacks. The attack faltered.
"What was that about a prior claim'?" Arianwyn asked.
"You caught that, did you?" I said, driving back another revenant's half-hearted attack. "He seems to have you in mind as a gift for one of his lackeys. Anyone spring to mind?"
"No, and I think I'd rather remain ignorant about that as long as possible. Forever, preferably." She went quiet for a moment. "If I'd not tried to do this by myself, there'd be enough of us to fight our way out, wouldn't there?"
"Possibly," I agreed. "Not that it helps now."
Another revenant tried his luck. I struck the masked head from its spectral shoulders.
The sound of marching feet finally reached its crescendo. Serried ranks of warriors strode out of the abyss. These were not revenants, but something else, their flesh pale against black cloth and black armour, their eyes as dark as the pit from which they had emerged. Malgyne had finally stopped laughing. He rubbed his clawed hands with uncontained glee.
"What's happening?" Arianwyn asked.
"Malgyne's army has finally arrived."
"More revenants?"
"I don't think so."
"Let me see."
The newcomers shoved wooden pews into the wings of the nave, making space for others arriving moment by moment. There were hundreds upon hundreds.
Arianwyn gasped. "They're the fallen."
&nb
sp; "I rather worried they might be." Another legend, come to life and aimed in my direction. It really wasn't my week.
"They're an excellent weapon," breathed Arianwyn. "They'll do anything he asks, just to remain in the living realm."
"Why not rely on the revenants?"
"Would you? They're not exactly intelligent." As if to prove a point, another revenant chose that moment to attack, and perished just as his predecessors had. "The fallen will fight harder and more viciously than any revenant ever could. After all, they're already damned – what worse fate could possibly await them?"
The space before the altar was filling up. At least a thousand fallen lined up before Malgyne, with more arriving. Most were clad in the armour and uniforms of one of the great nations, though the styles varied enormously, as befitted the various eras in which they had once dwelt. Some wore civilian clothes. All carried a weapon of some kind, even if it were only a dagger.
"They're soldiers, murderers, corrupt politicians, jilted lovers, victims of vendettas and deposed rulers," Arianwyn said softly. "Anyone who had cause to make a pact with power, and cared little for the consequences."
"And you know this how?" I asked.
"Family history," she said sadly. "When Sidara destroyed Droshna, that wasn't the end of the matter. He'd already made a pact with Death and was permitted to return to the realm of the living twice more. He brought an army of fallen with him both times – the records are explicit, and compelling."
"I've never heard mention of this," I protested.
"Why would you have? Both events happened long ago and, from your perspective, in a foreign land."
A hulking figure took his place between Malgyne and the assembled legion. He stood well over six feet tall and moved with catlike grace belying his bulk. I recognised him instantly, though I'd never met him. For six months, his likeness had stared down at me every time I'd climbed the stairs to my bedchamber.
"If we survive, you'll have to update the records," I told Arianwyn. "It's three times. Not twice."
The mystery of why Malgyne wanted Arianwyn alive had been answered. There, in the centre of the cathedral, stood the fallen remains of Lord Viktor Droshna, nemesis of the Trelan family, and the only Tressian general ever to humble the Hadari Empire.
Shadow of the Raven (The Reckoning Book 1) Page 34
