“Neri-shna, why have you summoned us here?” a dry, old voice asked.
Devin turned at the sound of his real name and focused his black eyes on the shadow, the oldest of them all.
“Jeqla, how good it is to see you again.” Devin encompassed all who were present with a wave of his arm. “How good it is to see all of you again, my family.”
“Neri-shna, you are a Tja-maq. Why must you pretend to be a human?” another voice asked.
“Ta-mie, my Uwan,” Devin said to the shadow woman, which meant “mother” in their ancient language. “They have what I want.”
“And what do you want?” another voice asked.
“Revenge!” Devin snarled, throwing his arms toward the roof. The ground shook, dust floated down from the ceiling, and the potions inside of the cabinets rattled together, but none of the shadows moved. “And I am so close to having it!”
“You desire our help,” one of the Tja-maq asked, but it was more of a statement than a question.
“Yes,” Devin hissed. “I need you all to fight for me so I can gain the throne of this tiny kingdom and eventually take over the human world.”
The crowd was silent. Then, one creature spoke with disdain, “You want us to pretend to be humans?”
Devin grimaced. “For the time being, yes.” When the Tja-maq were in their human forms, their power lessened, and their connection with their people and the shadows became nonexistent. But the Tja-maq were the greatest species of all, and humans were a far cry beneath their power, even when they took human form.
A few of the crowd tittered, and Devin rolled his eyes at their ignorance. “Do you not realize what kingdom this is?”
The shadows were silent. Devin smiled. “This is the kingdom of Algar.” The shadows hissed, and several of them moved backward, repulsed by the idea. Each Tja-maq knew the story, but perhaps they needed a reminder. “That’s right! It was this kingdom that stripped us of our power thousands of years ago.” The Tja-maq had once ruled the world with shadows and fear, but the kingdom of Algar had waged war against the Tja, and though many of the humans died, they had been victorious through the help of a group of wizards and a magical sword, Mepherius. Not only had Mepherius killed many Tja-maq, but the wizards had also sealed an ancient spell on the unbreakable sword, one that limited the Tja and their posterity’s powers forever, making it impossible for them to gain the upper hand with the humans. “Because of them, we are now forced to cower in darkness,” Devin said, raising his voice until it shook the manor. “Isn’t it fitting that our uprising should start here, where it ended so long ago?”
One of the shadows bared its teeth at him. “We couldn’t beat them last time. What makes you think we can now?”
Devin began to pace in front of them, his cloak swirling behind him. “Their wizards have left the land and are nowhere to be found. Mepherius, the magical sword, is no longer in their possession. They have lost all knowledge of its whereabouts.” His people would know what that meant. Even missing, the sword’s magic still blocked much of their power, but the blade itself had been deadly to their kind. Without it, the Tja were almost impossible to kill.
“We have heard this already,” hissed Jeqla. “But there are still so many of the humans.”
“Yes,” he admitted, stopping abruptly to face them. “However, there is one more important thing you do not yet know.” He paused, waiting until all attention was back on him. “I have control over one very powerful human who has gained the trust of at least half the kingdom. With our help, he will take over the throne . . . and I will rule through him until his purpose is fulfilled.”
Whispers of approval swept through his family. “Is it enough?” someone challenged.
“I believe so.” Without Mepherius and with the humans fighting among themselves, the Tja would not again be defeated.
“It is a good plan,” Ta-mie said.
The Tja-maq exchange meaningful stares with each other, some hissing out words in their language. Devin tilted his head, knowing he was gaining ground. “They don’t have the sword, they don’t have any wizards, and they are divided. We can beat them, make them our slaves. And from here, we will expand. We will find the magic sword that keeps us prisoner and destroy it. We will have access to our full powers, and no one will not be able to stop us.”
Their eyes glowed brighter in the darkness. He grinned, showing his fangs more fully. They would agree. They wanted revenge and power as much as he did. It was worth pretending to be a human for a while.
“Fine, Neri-shna. You have our help,” they said together in a low, eerie, chanting voice. The words seemed to echo around them, and it sounded like many thousands were speaking instead of the twenty or so Tja in the room. Devin felt a smile pull at the corner of his lips. They had made a Tja Promise to him. They would help him or die trying. They couldn’t back out now.
One by one, each of the shadows transformed into their human forms, and the basement was covered in blinding darkness.
Devin snapped his fingers, and the lights of the room came on. The sound of hissing filled the air as each one of his family tried to get out of the light and back into the shadows.
Devin rolled his eyes. “You will get used to it.” The light still hurt him, but he was able to ignore it after years of pretending to be human.
Not for much longer, he thought. Soon, I will control everything, and I will be myself. He chuckled and glanced at his small army. They are powerful but not powerful enough. However, with the help of the nobles and commoners they would enlist, his army would have the strength he needed.
“Neri-shna—” someone started, but Devin cut them off.
“Devin. In this world, I am Devin.”
“Devin,” the voice insisted. “You are still as a Tja-maq.”
Devin started, then realized they were right. With a sigh, he let go of the power that came with being a Tja-maq and turned back into his normal self. Normal being a subjective term.
“You seem to like this form more than your own,” a Tja accused, drawing closer to him.
“So what if I do?” Devin growled back. Surprised, the Tja-maq stepped back into his corner. “We must go. Our puppet king will be waiting.” A few of them hissed as he spoke, but he ignored them. He didn’t like Ryland either, but he needed him. For now.
Devin turned around quickly, and all of them teleported with him to Ryland’s house.
Ryland looked up when the door opened, and Devin walked in.
“That was fast,” Ryland said, glancing at the maps on the table in front of him. “Do you have your reinforcements?”
“I do.” Devin grinned and swept his arm to the side, stepping away as he did so. Many people, each different from one another, filed into the space and stared at Ryland.
Ryland was a bit surprised. They were dressed in commoner outfits, bare of any weapons. They didn’t even look strong. Did Devin really think they would be any use? Ryland glanced at Devin, and he nodded encouragingly.
“Welcome to the cause,” Ryland told them. He paused, waiting for some kind of response, but they all just kept staring at him. He gazed back for a moment, then shook off the creepy feeling they gave him and turned to the table.
“Devin, I will need your help to make a plan of attack. We must act quickly, or Fayre will get worse.” He glanced again at the people, a bit perturbed that they were still staring at him.
Devin frowned. “Forget about Fayre. She will be fine. We need a good plan of attack or this won’t work. We can’t rush things.”
Ryland glanced up at him and fought through a war of emotions. Devin was right, of course, but it went against every instinct in his body. He wanted action that would save Fayre.
“Jumping in too early is exactly what the prince wants you to do,” Devin warned, almost as if he could read his mind.
The mention of Caspian made Ryland’s blood boil, and he gasped for breath for a moment. “Fine. I will do as you say.”
A smil
e slowly appeared on Devin’s face. “Let us,” he motioned to the crowd of people behind him, “spread the word about how you want to take the throne. We shall wait for one month, not a moment longer, and not a moment sooner. The fear and unrest in the kingdom will give the people a chance to decide whether to support or oppose you. You talk to the nobles, and we shall gather the common troops you will need.” He paused and looked back at the group. “By any means necessary.” He hissed the last part, and the people nodded their heads, seeming to understand.
“Won’t that give Prince Caspian a chance to prepare as well?” Ryland asked, fighting the uneasiness that was growing again in his chest. He thought of the prince and let his anger wash away the feeling. Anger. That was all he needed right now to keep his resolve strong.
“That prince is nothing but a child who will think you didn’t mean what you said. He won’t want to prepare for a fight he doesn’t want to participate in. Trust me. It will work.” Devin had a dark gleam in his eye, and Ryland sensed he was hiding something.
But trusting the wizard seemed like a good idea. Besides, he’s never steered me wrong.
Ryland nodded. “I trust you to do what you see fit. Just make sure the throne is mine,” he snarled, pinning Devin with his stare.
“Oh, I will.”
After Devin and Ryland had spent the day planning for the inevitable attack, including the day and time, guessing at the number of forces they would have, Devin had cornered the shadows to do his bidding.
“Make sure when you spread the message of the upcoming war that I am never included in it,” Devin warned them before they set off. “No one trusts me, and they will not follow Ryland if they know I am on his side, helping him. I will have to go to great lengths as it is to make sure I am never seen at his side without him growing suspicious.”
The Tja-maq, under Devin’s instructions, went out that night as shadows to infiltrate the workplaces and homes of the people. They called on other creatures of the Tja to spread fear. They entered into people’s minds while dreaming, filling their thoughts with those of the impending fight. They entered into the people who were awake too, who were alone with their thoughts. They sent the message of doom to all the people in the land. From the first night, people began panicking.
The takeover had begun.
Chapter Eleven
Soon, citizens began asking Prince Caspian whether or not a battle was coming to Algar. The prince couldn’t lie, but he couldn’t tell the truth either, for fear of causing mass panic. But the shadows went out every day, increasing fear in the people’s minds. Soon, whatever Caspian would have answered wouldn’t have made a difference anyway. Fights began in the streets, with the people arguing over who they would support in the coming war. The shadows went to criminals, offering them great riches if they joined the fight. They visited those who felt scorned or treated unfairly and invited, ridiculed, or bribed them to join Ryland’s army. Even dissenters among the royal military joined Ryland’s side.
The Tja-maq also walked the streets in their human forms, driving the citizens in the right direction. They picked fights, pretending to be working for the prince, and did everything they could to spur people to Ryland’s cause.
The one thing they didn’t do was to force the people to join them through threats or magic spells. “That will not do,” Devin told them. “They must each come willingly.” He didn’t explain further, but they did not question his judgment. Soon, they would be the taskmasters of the humans, in the position of which they all felt deserving. Their revenge would be sweet indeed.
Ryland, of course, knew nothing of the shadows and their doings. All he knew was the meetings he attended every night in a rickety old barn in the middle of nowhere were slowly filling with people—both nobles and commoners—who supported his cause. Devin would never join him in public, and when Ryland asked him why, he explained it away as being too busy for public appearances. “You are the face of Algar,” he said. “You will be her king. I am merely your servant.”
They planned their attack every spare moment, and soon the number of their forces exceeded expectations.
The one thing Devin and his minions could not shield Ryland from was the increasing skirmishes in the streets between the two sides. Every day Ryland’s uneasiness toward those who joined his army, and toward Devin himself, grew. He soon wasn’t certain at all whether or not the war was a good idea. Yet every time he looked at Fayre, he knew there was no other way. He became accustomed to letting his anger at the prince blot out any other emotion as he focused his whole attention on taking over the kingdom.
“We are going to win!” Devin assured him when their plan was set. His eyes were bright, and his grin was wide. His laugh was long and slow, and somehow it filled Ryland with dread.
The week before their planned battle, the preparations reached a feverish pace, and the fighting on the streets grew worse. People—his people—were struck down in the streets, some even killed. Ryland had to school himself not to care. Sacrifices were inevitable in a war, necessary, even.
Finally, the day of the attack arrived. I’ll be king by tonight, Ryland thought. And Caspian will realize how wrong he was to cross me.
Ted Simmons, a man who had joined Ryland’s army because of the many wrongs he believed had been forced upon the people of Algar, crept through the dark tunnels under and inside the castle walls. They hadn’t discovered an outside entrance to the tunnels, but Lord Ryland had somehow created a new one for them to enter, as if by magic. Ted was honored to be with those who would sneak inside and surprise the wretched prince and his soldiers.
Behind Ted, his troops tread quietly, and when he looked back it seemed as if their eyes glowed in the dark, reflecting the small amount of light coming from the large leaf he held in his hand, saturated with some substance that made it glow.
Ted stopped at an intersection and signaled. Zon, another captain, nodded at Ted and went down the left path with his troops. Ted watched them go, then continued down the path on the right with his troops, leaving Zan, Zon’s brother and another captain, to go straight with his men. Excitement brimmed in Ted’s heart as he thought about the battle to come and his role in it.
The plan is genius, like Lord Ryland himself, he silently praised his future king. This battle will be over within minutes, I’m sure of it!
Other captains like Ted also trudged their way through the dark tunnels of the castle. They were all set to reach openings into the palace that would have the most effect on the enemy’s defenses. They were to attack from within at the same time, while many forces outside would storm each of the palace’s gates, which had been closed for the past month. The mass attack and the confusion that followed should lead Ryland and his troops to an easy victory.
While Ted and the rest of the common soldiers continued to make their way through the dark tunnels, Devin and Ryland stood together, waiting near Ryland’s house. Their group would storm the main gate of the castle shortly before everyone else was to attack. They would quickly get inside and open the other gates for the nobles and their soldiers who awaited nearby.
Most of the strange men Devin had originally brought to Ryland’s were in this group, along with other strong men Devin had managed to gather to their cause. Ryland glanced behind him at the soldiers, who stood at attention with barely a movement, even the inexperienced commoners. Ryland approved of their solemnity. The time before battle was one of reflection, for one could do nothing but reflect.
Ryland himself mentally reviewed all the plans and preparations that had been made to get to this point. So many people were going to die tonight. The thought made him sick. They would die, and for what?
Staring back toward his house where Fayre rested, dying, he took a deep breath to steady his emotions. Regardless of his doubts, it was too late to go back now. This was the right thing to do.
“Now, Your Majesty. We must go,” Devin whispered, pulling Ryland from his bleak thoughts.
Ryla
nd took another deep breath to steady his nerves before nodding at Devin. He had studied battle strategies at his school, and he had learned how to fight, but he now realized that planning inside a safe room and actually carrying out the plans on the battlefield were two very different things.
He glanced back at his people once more to make sure they were ready before signaling them to move forward. They marched closer to the castle in silence, a dreary silence that seemed to weigh on the soul until it sank into despair. Ryland looked to see if his cousin showed any of these dark emotions on his face, but instead saw a large smile on his lips, like the one a cat might wear once it had caught its prey. Deeply shaken, Ryland turned back to the march until they were in range of any arrows the soldiers in the castle might try to fire at them.
Ryland raised his sword above his head. “For Algar!” he yelled. His cry was echoed by those following him, and they all darted forward across the empty expanse in front of the gates that was designed to expose invading troops before they reached the castle. Ryland swallowed hard, trying not to think of that fact or of how well defended he knew the palace to be. Prince Caspian had numerous soldiers, the strongest army in all of Algar. They would be inside the gates now. Waiting for their attack.
We’re going to win! he reassured himself, but dread still filled him. He resented himself for the weakness.
Abruptly, arrows started falling from the sky, and Ryland raised his shield quickly, but not quickly enough to stop the arrow that whizzed toward his arm. He steeled himself against the pain, but the arrow turned to ash before it made contact.
He glanced to the side at Devin, who nodded at him. Ryland gave his cousin a grim look of thanks and raised his shield higher, pointing his sword at the gate. “We need to get closer to let the others in!” Ryland yelled.
While in the planning stage, Devin had assured them his magic would get their group through the main gate very quickly to let the other troops in through the other entrances, but that didn’t seem possible now with the arrows preventing them from moving much closer to the castle.
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