Frostborn: Excalibur (Frostborn #13)

by Jonathan Moeller

  The Sight blazed to life within her, and she stiffened in alarm.

  Dark magic surged above the pavilion.

  “Keeper!” Antenora’s hoarse shout came through the tent flap. “There is a spell! Beware!”

  Ridmark had already taken a long step to put himself between her and the tent flap, the black staff of Ardrhythain raised in guard before him. The symbols on the length of the staff glowed with white light, a reaction to the dark shadow of Incariel. Calliande seized the staff of the Keeper, white fire blazing up its length as she called the power of the Well and the mantle of the Keeper to her. As she did, she focused the Sight and sought for the dark magic that had alarmed Antenora.

  It was about to surround the pavilion, but the power was coming from above.

  “Ridmark!” said Calliande. “It’s above us!”

  She thrust the staff over her head, calling the power into a spell.

  ###

  Ridmark looked up just as Gavin and Antenora burst into the pavilion and Calliande cast a warding spell. A dome of white light erupted from the end of her staff and filled the pavilion, as bright as the noontime sun.

  An instant later, flames wrought of shadow hammered into the pavilion, and the tent disintegrated around them.

  As did the tables, the weapons and armor, and most of the forge.

  It was like watching a hundred years pass in a single instant. The thick cloth of the pavilion turned threadbare and spotted with mold, and then crumbled into dust. The wood of the tables grew dry and brittle and then collapsed into sawdust. The swords and armor turned orange with rust and then crumbled apart, while the bricks of the forge turned into ash.

  The shadow fire hammered towards Ridmark and Calliande and Gavin and Antenora, but Calliande’s dome of light blazed brighter, and the shadow flames shattered. The wreckage of the tent blew away, and Ridmark heard cries of alarm rising from the camp, someone blowing a horn to sound the call to arms. Had Tarrabus launched an attack on the wall? Or had he finished the strange spell that Third had seen, the circle of blood and shadows and murdered women?

  Anger burned through him.

  Or had Imaria Shadowbearer returned to do more of her bloody work?

  Ridmark looked at the sky, half-expecting to see Imaria flying overhead. She had always used the Weaver to carry her aloft, but there was nothing left of the Weaver but some ashes in the Stone Heart. Had Imaria found another Enlightened able to change form and take to the air? That dragon the others had seen earlier, perhaps?

  A dark blur shot overhead, outlined in the glow of the moons, and the shadow seemed to land nearby. It congealed and condensed, and a female figure stepped forward into the glow from Calliande’s staff.

  It was the woman who had accompanied Tarrabus to the parley, and she smiled at them, her teeth stark and white, shadowy fire dancing around her fingers.

  “You,” said Ridmark.

  “Oh, eloquent, isn’t he?” said the woman, looking at Calliande. “Just as well he has other virtues, isn’t it?”

  “Who are you?” said Calliande. A ball of fire shimmered into existence above Antenora’s staff, swelling in size as it spun, and Gavin raised his soulblade and his shield, the fire of Calliande’s staff and of Truthseeker reflecting in the dwarven steel of his shield.

  “Names?” said the woman, smiling. “What a useless affectation. I have no more of a name then the storm that throws the city into the sea has a name. I act. I require not a name.”

  “Then what is your title, then?” said Calliande, her eyes narrowed.

  “Ah!” said the woman. “A better question. I have so many titles. Some have called me the Harvester of Souls. Others have called me the Master of Masks. Once I was called the Drinker of Hearts and the Bane of Hope. But the dark elves called me Soulbreaker, for even they could rule me not.”

  None of those titles meant anything to Ridmark, but Calliande flinched a little at the last title and then nodded as if a suspicion had just been confirmed to her.

  “You’re a Deep Walker,” said Calliande.

  That, too, meant nothing to Ridmark, but the woman who called herself Soulbreaker grinned.

  “Then you do understand your danger,” said the woman. “How splendid!”

  “Is Tarrabus so foolish?” said Calliande.

  “Foolish, and desperate,” said Soulbreaker. “He desires your death, the death of your protector, and the death of your prince. And once you are dead, I shall be free to do as I wish, and there are so many lives upon which I can feast.”

  “You are welcome to try,” said Ridmark, leveling his staff.

  “I know I am,” said Soulbreaker, “and…”

  Blue fire swirled behind her. Soulbreaker started to turn, but before she could, Third appeared out of nothingness, short swords in hand. The blue blades blurred forward, burying themselves in Soulbreaker’s back, the tips erupting from her chest. Soulbreaker staggered, her expression annoyed, and Third ripped her blades free.

  There was no blood upon the weapons, only a thick black slime.

  “Bother,” said Soulbreaker.

  “Third!” shouted Calliande, the white fire blazing brighter upon her staff. “A Deep Walker!”

  Third’s black eyes widened, and she looked as alarmed as Ridmark had ever seen her. Soulbreaker whirled, her left hand curled into a claw, and shadow fire ripped from her fingers and stabbed towards Third. The fire drilled into the ground since Third had already vanished in a swirl of blue flames.

  Calliande took advantage of Soulbreaker’s distraction to attack, a shaft of white fire ripping from the end of her staff. Soulbreaker made a twisting motion with her hand, and the shadows erupted from her fingers and sheathed her in a cocoon of darkness. Calliande’s fire struck the shadows and unraveled, though the cocoon rippled with the impact.

  “Ah!” said Soulbreaker, the cocoon collapsing back into shadows in her hand. “A good strike. A good strike indeed! I am glad I can start by devouring you. Once I do, I shall be all the stronger. So many lives, so little time!”

  “Ridmark!” shouted Calliande. “Get Gavin to her!” White fire blazed up her staff once more, while Antenora’s fireball had swelled to the size of a grown man’s head. “The soulblade’s the only thing that can hurt her!”

  Soulbreaker laughed, high and wild and mad, and her shadow split into two, pouring across the ground towards them like spilled ink. The two shadows swelled and rose, becoming twisted dark shapes that bore a strong resemblance to urvaalgs.

  “Third!” said Ridmark. “Get help! The other Swordbearers!”

  Third nodded and vanished in a pulse of blue fire, and the two shadow-creatures surged forward. Ridmark ran to meet them, his staff glimmering with white symbols, and Gavin hurried at his side, his soulblade burning with white fire.

  Both Calliande and Soulbreaker were casting spells.

  ###

  One of the shadow-creatures bounded towards Gavin, and he planted himself, pivoting so that his shield came up and Truthseeker was drawn back to strike.

  He had never seen a creature quite like this before. It seemed almost transparent, and sometimes he could see through it as if it had been made from smoke. Yet he had no doubt that its blows would land with solid force. The creature’s form seemed mutable as well. As it charged towards him, it seemed like an urvaalg, but as it reared up to strike at him, it thickened and broadened, looking more like an ursaar.

  That was all right. Gavin had killed both.

  The shadow creature's claws hammered against his shield with a clang, the shock knocking him back a step. Whatever the creature was, it was at least as strong as a real ursaar. Truthseeker’s power surged through Gavin, giving him the strength to keep the blow from knocking him to the ground. He struck back, the white fire of Truthseeker ripping into the shadow-creature, and it rocked. The impact felt as if he had just stabbed the sword through water. The creature flowed back, starting to reshape itself, and Gavin attacked again. This time his soulblade stabbed
to the core of the rippling creature, and the shadow unraveled and disintegrated.

  He turned to aid Ridmark and saw the Gray Knight trading blows with the second shadow-creature, the symbols on the black staff of Ardrhythain burning bright with white light. The shadow-creature recoiled from the blows of the staff, just as the shadowy threads of the Weaver had recoiled. Yet the staff seemed unable to wound the creature, because its dark mass simply flowed around the sweep of the staff.

  Gavin sprinted to the attack, and Ridmark launched a quick flurry of blows, driving the shadow-creature back. It retreated from the staff and moved into Gavin’s path. He raised the soulblade over his head and brought it hammering down, and the blade ripped through the shadow-creature. The creature shuddered as the white fire drilled into it, and then dissolved into nothingness.

  Ridmark nodded to him and turned towards Soulbreaker, and then fire exploded across the ground.

  Calliande flung a shaft of white fire at Soulbreaker, and an instant later Antenora threw her sphere of flame. It soared across the distance between them as Soulbreaker staggered under the white fire, and then exploded with a roiling bloom of flame. For a moment Soulbreaker stood wreathed in the inferno. She didn’t burn in the fire. Rather, she seemed to unravel, almost like watching a leaf crumble as flames burned through it.

  Yet she pulled herself together, the shadows whirling around her, and Antenora’s fire winked out.

  Gavin and Ridmark ran towards her. He remembered what Calliande had shouted to Ridmark, how she had said only a soulblade could destroy a Deep Walker. Gavin had no idea what a Deep Walker was, but he knew the power of his soulblade, and he was certain that if he could close with Soulbreaker, he could land a telling blow with Truthseeker.

  Yet Soulbreaker seemed unharmed by the fury of Calliande’s and Antenora’s magic.

  If anything, she looked amused.

  Her shadow flowed out from her like water, and two more shadow-creatures burst from the darkness, their forms blurring and altering as they hurtled forward.

  Gavin raised Truthseeker and charged to meet them.

  ###

  The power of the Well surged through Calliande, and she fused it to the magic of the Keeper’s mantle, hurling another blast of magical fire at Soulbreaker. The Deep Walker in the form of a woman cast a spell, shadows snarling around her, and while Calliande’s spell ripped through the ward like paper, the sheer power of the ward soaked up Calliande’s attack like a sponge.

  She wasn’t surprised. Deep Walkers were powerful, immensely powerful, because they had no true physical form, and could draw on magic as easily as living creatures could take a breath. Calliande now understood the reason for the strange spell that Third had seen within Tarrabus’s camp. Tarrabus had been foolish enough, reckless enough, to summon a Deep Walker and bind it to his control. The murdered women had been killed to provide host bodies for the Deep Walker to use to interact with the physical world.

  Except that the Deep Walker could not be controlled, not really. It might agree to perform a task for Tarrabus, but once that task was completed, it would be free to do as it wished. Tarrabus might have sent the Deep Walker to kill Calliande, but if the creature was successful, it would run amok through the siege camp, killing at will and growing stronger with every victim. Likely the Swordbearers would force the Deep Walker to retreat, but a soulblade was the only thing that could defeat a Deep Walker, and every Swordbearer in Andomhaim was at the siege of Tarlion. Soulbreaker could rampage across the realm for decades and might carve itself a bloody kingdom of its own before the Frostborn finally destroyed it.

  She had to stop the creature now before it caused too much damage. So far Soulbreaker had been focused on her, but if it decided to flee and lure her on, it could kill hundreds of people before it was brought to bay.

  Calliande flung blast after blast of white fire as Ridmark and Gavin battled the solid shadows that Soulbreaker called forth. The Sight burned within her, and she saw the whirling locus of darkness within the Deep Walker. Soulbreaker might not have worshiped Incariel as the dvargir and the Enlightened did, but the creature could draw upon the same manner of dark power. No, it was its own well of dark power, and it flung that dark power at Calliande.

  She cast a ward before them once again, a shimmering dome of translucent white light. The shadow fire hammered into the dome, and it bulged and rippled beneath the attack, before finally breaking apart in a spray of sparks. Yet the attack had been blunted, and Calliande struck back, the power of the Keeper ripping through Soulbreaker’s wards as Antenora flung her own fire. An inferno once again engulfed Soulbreaker, whipping around her in a miniature firestorm. Calliande added her own fury to the attack. She lacked Antenora’s precise skill in the magic of elemental flame, but she more than made up for it in raw power, and even from this distance she felt the heat of the flames.

  Soulbreaker staggered, making a gripping gesture, and her shadows swam back towards her, wrapping around her in a protective cocoon. The flames flickered and went out, and the shadows coiled around Soulbreaker’s feet in a twisting pool. Ridmark and Gavin headed towards her slowly, Truthseeker blazing in Gavin’s fist. A mad smile spread over the Deep Walker’s face, and she began casting another spell, more shadowy fire crawling up her arms as she gestured.

  A blast of white fire struck her from the side, and Soulbreaker staggered, her mad smile turning into a scowl. Calliande risked a glance to the side and saw Camorak running past the crumbled wreckage of the forge, white fire flickering around his fingers. She wanted to tell him to run. He was a superb healer, but his magical skills did not extend to this kind of battle.

  More white fire flared in the gloom of the night, and the Swordbearers came.

  A dozen Swordbearers walked towards the Deep Walker, soulblades flaring in the darkness. Calliande spotted Sir Constantine and old Master Marhand walking at their head, Brightherald and Torchbrand burning with fury in their hands. Marhand gestured, and the Swordbearers spread in a ring around Soulbreaker, the fire of their soulblades illuminating the night.

  Soulbreaker laughed. “The proud Knights of the Soulblade! Ah, it has been too long since I slew any of you. How does it feel to wield the echoes of long-dead high elven warriors in your hands?”

  “Those echoes,” said Marhand, “burn with rage at the sight of a creature of dark magic, and yearn to see you defeated. We agree with our blades.”

  “Then let us see,” said Soulbreaker, “if you are worthy bearers of those blades! Come!”

  She flung out her hands, and the Swordbearers charged. Calliande cast another spell, a shaft of white fire to rip down any defenses that Soulbreaker might have raised around herself. She expected Soulbreaker to attack the Swordbearers, or to call forth more of those solid shadows.

  Instead, Soulbreaker exploded, swelling in size. One moment she was a woman in a black dress.

  The next moment, she was a dragon.

  The dragon was huge, easily fifty feet from tail to snout, armored in scales that looked as if they had been worked from shadows. A row of jagged spikes went down her back, and enormous curved black horns crowned her head. Her tail snapped around like a massive whip, and four of the Swordbearers went flying. Her head swept to the side, jaws yawning wide, and fire erupted from her maw. The Swordbearers raised their soulblades in guard, the swords flaring as they absorbed the fury of the attack.

  Soulbreaker’s huge black wings unfurled, and she leaped into the air, circling overhead. She swooped towards Calliande, more fire bursting from her jaws. Calliande cast another warding spell, and the fire deflected from a dome of white light.

  The dragon swooped past and banked, coming around for another attack.

  ###

  Ridmark stared at Soulbreaker, his mind racing.

  He started to reach for his bow, but he realized that was useless. The dragon was too big for a hunting bow to do much damage, and for that matter, Soulbreaker was a creature of dark magic. An arrow of steel and wood woul
d do nothing against her. Magic was the only way to fight her, and a soulblade could overcome any creature of dark magic.

  Yet for all their power, the Swordbearers could not fly. The dragon could circle above them, raining down fire with impunity. Soulbreaker could have done far more harm during her last attack on the camp, and likely she had not lingered because Calliande had not yet arrived. The magic of the Magistri and the Keeper could harm creatures of dark magic, yet Calliande had seemed certain that only a soulblade could defeat Soulbreaker.

  The wings. That was the key. They had to force Soulbreaker back to the ground so the Swordbearers could strike with their soulblades. It was like fighting a wyvern. Of course, wyverns couldn’t breathe fire, and so had to land to devour their prey. Soulbreaker could pour fire down from above at will.

  The dragon swooped past again, her fire shattering once more against Calliande’s magic. The vast black wings spread behind her like sails, lifting her higher into the air.

  Sails…

  Sails could burn, couldn’t they? And Ridmark knew just where he could find a great deal of intense flame.

  “Antenora!” he shouted, hurrying towards her. Antenora stood next to Calliande, her staff glowing like a hot coal in her hand. Her yellow eyes turned towards Ridmark. “The wings! Burn the wings!”

  Antenora blinked, and then her eyes widened. She turned and began casting a new spell, a blade of flame appearing at the end of her staff. The dragon banked again, coming towards Calliande in another pass, and Antenora thrust her staff, her face tight with effort.

  The blade of flame extended, erupting into a tight cone of fire that lashed across the night sky. It ripped into the dragon, washing off the black scales without any effect. But the wings were not so resilient, and Soulbreaker’s left wing caught fire, the membranes between the bones erupting into hot yellow-orange flames.

  The dragon let out a surprised screech and dipped to the left, her left wing collapsing as it burned, and her flight came to a sudden crash into the ground, dirt digging up beneath her claws as she flailed for balance.