by James Wisher
“This arrangement suits Focalor. Has the warlock found the key inside?”
“No, but I found a clue. I believe what we seek is in the Palace of Alexious.”
“Focalor has seen the palace, but a barrier prevents him from entering.”
Connor frowned. What sort of barrier would be strong enough to keep a demon as strong as Focalor out? And more importantly, would it also keep Connor out?
“Let’s go take a look.”
Chapter 21
The ship creaked as the sailors rushed to tie it up to the docks of Port Valcane. The flotilla had been within sight of Lookout Island when the archmage returned and told Velco the king approved of him docking in the kingdom and buying supplies. The captain had grinned and adjusted course away from the island. They had plenty of water and just enough food to make it. At his master’s order Damien had spent another ten days on the whalers’ ship eating dry meat, moldy bread, and sucking withered limes, but at last they’d reached the city.
Down on the dock his master and Lane stood patiently, waiting for the sailors to finish their work. Damien grinned and flew down to join them. Lane hugged him and kissed his stubbly cheek.
“This is a pleasant surprise,” Damien said when Lane stepped back.
“I asked Lane to serve as Captain Velco’s guide around the city,” the archmage said.
“I guess that fits within the area of diplomacy, though going from negotiating with barons to tour guide seems a bit of a demotion.”
“Yes, well, I wanted someone I trust keeping an eye on Velco. I’ve conscripted the city guard to help as well.”
“Mom also offered me dinner at the most expensive tavern in the city along with a guest of my choice.” Lane raised an eyebrow. “What do you say?”
“I’ve been eating moldy bread and dried mystery meat for ten days. If you offered me chowder and rolls at a corner shack I’d say yes.”
The gangplank clattered to the dock and Velco bounded down, ending their banter. He sighed when his feet hit the dock. “Good to be back in civilization.” He eyed Lane and smiled. “Who’s this lovely young lady?”
“This is Lane,” the archmage said. “She’s a member of our diplomatic corps and will serve as your guide.”
Velco chuckled. “My minder you mean.”
The archmage shrugged. “If you prefer. In any case she can answer your questions and show you where you can buy your supplies.”
“What about hiring more men?” Velco asked.
“We’d appreciate it if you didn’t try to recruit.”
Behind them a crowd had begun to gather on the nearest street. Shouts and the crack of a whip from a passing teamster opened a path which soon closed. The strange ships were drawing many curious looks.
“What about my men? After three months at sea they deserve some shore leave.”
“That’s fine, as long as they behave themselves. Understand that anyone breaking our laws will answer for it and most likely won’t be sailing with you.”
“These are all good lads, never fear. Any other advice or threats?”
The archmage shook her head. “No, but I’m sure I’ll see you again before you leave. Let’s go, Damien. Lane can handle it from here.”
Damien offered Lane a parting smile and followed his master off the dock. They walked in silence through the crowds, making their way toward the city center. Damien had to force himself to match his master’s pace. He wanted to hear what Uncle Andy thought about all this, but if the archmage didn’t want to talk in the street he couldn’t blame her.
They reached a large, three-story structure with guards constantly coming and going. No one challenged them as they pushed through a small side door and walked down a twisting hall. More than one guard paused as they went about their duties to stare at the passing sorcerers. At last they reached a room decorated with a large table covered with a map of the city, eight chairs, and not much else.
She shut the door behind them and a sound barrier fell into place. “Report.”
“They’re planning to try and kill the Leviathan. Apparently the sorcerers have convinced Velco they have the power to destroy the dragon. The captain thinks he’ll have access to unlimited hunting with the dragon gone.”
“What do you think? Does this mad scheme have any chance of success?”
“Not given the power of the sorcerer we met and I found nothing on board that might give them any advantage. I fear the good captain is leading his sailors to their deaths.”
She waved her hand in dismissal. “The sailors made their choice back in the Old Empire. My concern is whether they might anger the dragon so that it retaliates against us.”
Damien hadn’t even considered that possibility. “How could we know? I think the real question is: can we search their ships while the sailors are on shore leave? If they’re not hiding something this venture makes even less sense.”
“I prefer not to antagonize them if I can help it. Now that we know the crossing is possible and that the empire as our ancestors knew it doesn’t exist, merchants are going to want to start trading. If word reached the Old Empire that we didn’t treat visitors fairly it might end a profitable situation before it begins.”
“So what are we going to do?”
His master looked like she had swallowed something sour. “I’m afraid we’ll need to send someone along to look out for the kingdom’s best interests.”
Damien groaned. “Let me guess.”
“Sorry. I hoped Lane would ask you to join her. You deserve a good meal before you go back to sea.”
Chapter 22
Morana watched from the crowd as sailors poured off the four strange ships. Mixed in with the common riffraff were Connor’s allies, three sorcerers from the Old Empire. Her master had been a little vague about who got in touch with whom, but the important thing was they had arrived and now Morana had to make contact.
A quick glance revealed three guards in uniform watching the ships. If there were three in uniform there were probably three or more times that many mixed in with the regular citizens. Connor said his people expected her to make contact; she just had to figure out how to draw their attention without alerting every guard in the area.
Two women and a man with no visible soul force walked down the ramps of the ships. That had to be them. They picked their way down Shore Street towards the city, bodies tense and gazes darting about. Morana followed along behind, not too close, just another person out for a walk. She glanced casually around, trying to spot anyone following the three sorcerers. No one stood out, but any of the people walking along the side of the road could be a guard out of uniform.
She clenched her teeth and gave it another minute. Still nothing stood out. If she wanted to accomplish anything she’d have to take a chance.
Morana picked up her pace and walked right past the three sorcerers. The man looked at her and when he did she flashed a horned skull symbol in the air in front of her chest where no one else could see it. His eyes widened and she nodded. Morana continued on toward the Drowned Rat, trusting the others would follow.
The run-down tavern made a perfect place to talk. The guards didn’t go there; if they did they’d end up floating facedown in the bay. It was too early in the day for much of a crowd and that worked against them. Not that it worried Morana one way or the other. She had an understanding with the bartender. He didn’t talk about Morana’s business and she didn’t kill him.
The Rat slumped on the corner of Shore and Tide. Two stories tall and fifty feet wide, the tavern doubled as a two-copper whorehouse. Since it was before noon, the working girls were probably still asleep. Morana pushed through the swinging doors, nodded to the bartender, and slipped into her usual booth at the back of the common room. The table wobbled, forcing her to slide the little wedge of wood back under the busted leg. A pair of drunks snoring under the biggest table in the center of the room were the only other guests.
A minute later the three sorcerers entered
, spotted Morana, and made their way across the room, careful to avoid stepping in any of the nastier pools of liquid on the bare plank floor. The three of them sat on the bench across from Morana. No serving maid bothered them. The Rat was strictly self-serve.
One of the three conjured a sound barrier. When it surrounded them the man said, “You’re our contact?”
“Connor sends his regards. Everything is on schedule?”
“Yes, we will collect the dragon’s soul force as agreed.”
“The captain has no idea what you truly intend?”
“He doesn’t care. As long as the Leviathan dies and he can hunt his precious whales the captain is uninterested in any other details. It would be useful if we had a few extra men loyal to us in case things should go awry.”
The two female sorcerers had said nothing up to this point, seeming content to stare at Morana. She shuddered. The women had blank, doll-like expressions. They almost didn’t look human. Morana had never seen anything like it.
Not her concern. At least now she had a use for the few Unkindness members that had survived her reminder of their loyalties.
“I have six men that should suit your needs perfectly. When should I send them over?”
“The woman that spoke for your kingdom asked the captain not to recruit from the populace. She said nothing about volunteers who offered to go on their own. Send them to the docks tomorrow morning. We’ll handle the rest.”
Chapter 23
Damien stood on the dock a few feet from Captain Velco and the archmage who were busy arguing about whether he could join the expedition. Their shouting almost drowned out the lapping of the waves. Since he’d left all his gear back at the capital, Damien had gone shopping and now he carried a new canvas bag filled with clothes and other goods, most importantly a supply of parchment and pencils so he could keep his master up to date on the whalers’ activities. Considering what he’d seen on his first voyage with the good captain he didn’t expect to have much reporting to do.
He stretched and yawned. Despite the early departure time he’d spent a late night chatting with Lane after a wonderful meal of fresh seafood. She’d been surprised by Captain Velco’s good manners as they went from shop to shop buying what the captain needed for his hunting trip. He hadn’t put so much as a toe out of line and Lane seemed to think he meant what he said about opening up new hunting grounds. If he had ulterior motives he hid them well. Damien and Lane finally said goodnight around midnight. Lane kissed his cheek and slipped into her room. She was a good friend and unlike Karrie seemed to harbor no ambitions beyond being his friend.
“Damien!” The archmage waved him closer.
They must have settled their differences. He didn’t know why the captain bothered arguing. He either had to do what she said or be stuck in port. “Master?”
“Captain Velco has agreed to let you travel with him on his flagship. All you’ll have to do is stay out of everyone’s way. Clear?”
“Perfectly.” Turning to Velco, Damien said, “I appreciate you letting me travel with you, Captain. I won’t give you a moment’s trouble.”
“I’m sure you won’t. I booted my first mate to the common room so you’ll be staying in his cabin. Meals are served promptly so if you’re late you’ll have to do without. Any questions?”
“No, sir.”
“Good. Let’s board. I don’t want to miss the tide.”
Captain Velco showed Damien to a tiny, cramped cabin with nothing but a hammock and sea chest for furniture. He barely had room to turn around without bumping into one of the walls. It was going to be a long trip.
Damien put his gear in the trunk and sat cross-legged in front of it. With everyone busy this would be a good time to scout out the ship. He conjured a spy bug, linked it to a viewing rectangle, and sent it under the door and down the hall. Damien sent the bug into Velco’s room to have a second look around. It creeped and crawled over everything, but he found nothing interesting.
The bug flew down a level to the hold. Scores of barrels filled every square inch. Some were filled with fresh water, but most were empty. It didn’t take long for him to conclude the hold was a waste of time as well. The crew quarters came next, a jumbled space of hammocks and footlockers. Some of the sailors had letters from home tacked to the wall beside their hammocks, but nothing of interest to Damien.
The only place left to check was the sorcerer’s cabin and Damien didn’t know if he wanted to take that step yet. If she noticed his spy there’d be trouble, but nothing ventured, nothing gained. The bug flew to the opposite end of the ship where the sorcerer’s isolated cabin waited. Damien studied the closed door through the bug’s eyes. A barrier similar to the one he’d used at the border baron’s castle blocked anyone from going in. He could smash it easily enough, but didn’t dare, not yet.
The ship lurched and Damien let the bug vanish. He’d check the other ships before he took any drastic steps. Damien got to his feet and went up on the deck. Behind them the city was slowly shrinking. Standing alone in the front, her blue robe swirling in the breeze, was the female sorcerer that had tried to threaten them when Damien and his master first arrived.
Maybe he could talk his way into her cabin. He’d seldom met a sorcerer who’d pass up the chance to discuss their preferred techniques, and being from the Old Empire she had to be curious about how kingdom sorcerers wielded soul force. He certainly wondered about her style.
Damien started across the moving deck, stumbling every other stride. Annoyed, he finally flew over beside her. When he landed she looked at him with wide, seemingly vacant blue eyes. Damien chewed his lip and tried a smile. “We haven’t been properly introduced. I’m Damien.”
He held out his hand and her gaze shifted down to look at it. She reminded Damien of a sleepwalker. The lights were on, but nobody was home. Her whole body shuddered, she blinked, and stumbled back from him. “Where did you come from?”
He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “You looked right at me when I landed.”
“My body looked at you. My mind was otherwise occupied checking for obstacles in the water. What do you want?” She had gone from unaware to angry and Damien wasn’t sure which he liked better.
“I wanted to introduce myself. I figured we’d be traveling together for a while and it might be nice to have another sorcerer to talk to.”
“If I want to talk to another sorcerer I’ll fly over to one of the other ships and talk to my comrades.” She brushed past him and flew down to her cabin. The door slammed behind her a moment later.
He sighed. So much for talking his way in. Steps behind him heralded the captain’s arrival.
“Not very friendly, is she?” Velco said.
“No, not very.”
“Don’t take it personal.” The captain slapped him on the back. “Near as I can tell she don’t like anybody but her sister.”
“At least she likes someone. How far out are we going to sail?”
Velco tapped his chin. “Well past your island. I’d say we’ll be at least three weeks getting to where I plan to hunt. Here.”
Damien caught a fist-sized white lump. “What’s this?”
“Whale bone. Some of the sailors like to carve it. Thought you might like to give it a try, make the time go by faster.”
“Thanks.” Just what he needed, something to speed him along to a battle with the most powerful creature on the planet.
Chapter 24
Dry air blew across Connor’s face as he and Focalor flew east from the pyramid across the vast expanse of nothing that was the haunted land. Only the occasional movement of undead and minor demons disturbed the gray sand below. No water flowed and no plants grew. Connor didn’t know how King Alexious managed to sacrifice even water to the Horned One, but it impressed him none the less.
For three hours they flew in silence. Connor found it eerie, flying through the empty sky. On the other side of the mountains birds and insects occasionally shared the sky with him, th
ough always flying away from him as fast as their wings could beat. Combined with the constant drain on his soul force the haunted lands were taking their toll.
At last the royal palace appeared on the horizon. The heart of the ritual that created these ruined lands, the royal palace was a huge, sprawling collection of courtyards and walkways surrounding a four-story keep with a red-tile roof and stone dragons perched on each corner. An ancient map showed the palace sitting in the center of a city twice the size of the kingdom’s capital. When the king triggered the ritual it wiped out everything not involved in the transference of energy.
Once, Connor imagined, the palace probably inspired awe in the people and fear in visiting ambassadors. Now everything had faded, the color washed out to various shades of gray, the place more mausoleum than fortress. Even from this distance the barrier Focalor mentioned rippled and shimmered in his sorcerous vision. It didn’t look like demonic energy. What he couldn’t see was what sustained it and whether it would permit non-demons to pass through. If he couldn’t get in he would have expended a lot of energy for nothing.
“You see it?” Focalor asked.
“The barrier? Yes, it’s very powerful.”
“Of course it is powerful, it kept Focalor out.” Demon and warlock landed just beyond the barrier. “But will it keep the warlock out?”
Connor took a deep breath and let it out. “One way to find out.”
He stepped forward. The barrier resisted, then flexed inward, like it couldn’t decide if it should let him through or not. Connor wouldn’t be denied. One grim step after the next he pushed ahead until the resistance vanished. The constant drain eased at once. Like the pyramids, the palace must be protected from the effect that drained his soul force.
Connor turned back to face the demon. “I guess it won’t keep me out. I’ll try and find the source of its power.”
