Regret's Shadow (Sins of Earth Trilogy)

by Jefferson Cram

  Duln looked again at the device, “If what you’re saying is true, it’s all the more reason to kill you.”

  Dramus looked frantically for an answer, “You can’t kill me. The weapon is nearly online. While eliminating me might delay his plan a bit, it won’t take much for Drejth to detonate the bomb.”

  He decided to go for the desperation move.

  “You have to help me sabotage the whole thing,”

  Duln looked as if he smelled something foul, “What are you talking about?”

  “I can disarm the bomb, make it look like it’s going to count down and explode, and you could secret the payload out of here and someplace away from the city. The ocean, I don’t know.

  “It won’t do any harm on its own. It’s only when the precise conditions are met that the reaction happens to cause the detonation.”

  “Well that’s good to know,” Emberlock’s pleased voice crashed into Dramus like a hammer blow.

  He and Duln looked simultaneously to the doorway to see her and Erick standing in the shadows. The baroness entered, Erick remained shrouded.

  “Wielder Duln, I had no idea,” she purred as Duln moved around unconsciously to stand beside Hiltsman. She stopped, pulling her eldritch blade from its sheath.

  “You know what happens to those that betray me.”

  Duln saw no need to hide his true intentions. His disgust at her recent actions boiled over.

  “Baroness,” he said, as he drew his own sword in response, “You are a vile, petty woman. You’ve pissed away the honor of your father’s name in your quest for power.

  “Now you’ve been duped into following the murderous plans of a madman that’s been dead for a thousand years.

  “You think people will line up to follow you because it’s your right to rule?

  “You had no idea, Calistra, because you’re an idiot.”

  She ran at him, sword raised. He knew she would, and met her with his own steel.

  She didn’t scream, she didn’t laugh, and it was almost more terrifying that she remained dead silent as she traded blows with the older warrior. The clang of steel on steel was deafening in the stone chamber.

  Dramus tried to press himself into the bricks of the wall. As the two combatants battled through the room, he began to slide toward the exit.

  There were a few exchanges that came uncomfortably close, and he was forced to duck or lose his head to a sword slash, or dive to avoid being run through. Finally his fingers found the lip of the doorway, and he managed to slip around the corner.

  He came face to face with a sallow, leering Erick.

  “Going somewhere?” the thing giggled. Dramus drew back in alarm, but not before it shot out its claw-like hands and grabbed his arms.

  “Let me go,” Dramus cried. The Erick-thing began to slowly shove him back into the room. Dramus was shocked at its strength. Behind him, Calistra and Duln were locked in mortal combat.

  “I’m going to enjoy watching you die, Duln,” the baroness breathed, her face inches away from Wielder’s, their blades crossed between them.

  “You should get used to disappointment,” he quipped, sounding less confident than the comment would suggest. He was tiring badly, and she was a canny enough fighter to use his age and his eyesight against him.

  The baroness laughed as she saw, out of the corner of her eye, Dramus being herded back into the room. She could tell Duln was tiring, and she decided to press the attack. She drew a dagger with her left hand, and went at him with both weapons.

  Duln tried to keep the device between them, even thought of cleaving the conical thing in two. But, if what Dramus had said was true, he might set the thing off.

  He was going to lose. Calistra would kill him.

  Rather than die in vain, he did the only thing he could think of to foil her plan: pivoted and he stabbed Erick.

  The possessed monk folded like a sack of flour, and Duln watched in satisfaction as Dramus seized the opportunity to escape. It was a momentary triumph, as the glowing green blade of Calistra’s sword shot out of his chest, coloring the stones around him in a sickly emerald light.

  He choked as she twisted the blade, drawing close to him as she did so.

  “Traitors burn in hell, Duln,” she hissed in his ear.

  He turned to set his eye upon her, “Then I’ll see you there, bitch.” He began to chuckle; a wet, gurgling sound that turned to a scream as she wrenched the blade violently. Suddenly he went still, and knew no more.

  Chapter 30

  Hade and his team arrived at the deserted warehouse district shortly before dusk.

  The setting sun painted the city in soft hues as shadows lengthened. People were heading home or to the pub, eager to be off the street before nightfall. There was an expectant hush in the air.

  The alleys were clear, a gift from the baron’s agents in the underworld, and their rabble-rousers. The Old Badger had been at the meeting in the palace, and he’d agreed to go along with Hade’s plan. He saw to it that no one would be wandering the district, fouling up any chance of surprise.

  The group huddled in a small widening of an alley, caused by the irregular shape of one of the warehouses.

  There were nine in the band: Hade and Ethelrynne, the Darkcloak and Reynolt, as well as five of Tavister’s hand-picked soldiers. Osric’s apprentices were ordered to remain hovering nearby, but out of sight, awaiting a signal to get the group out should things go poorly.

  Hade looked at each of their faces, feeling his guts going cold.

  “Alright. In case you didn’t hear it in the meeting, I have a unique knowledge of this area.

  “When I was fouling things up as a recruit, Brevin used to send me into the sewers in this district to clean up the ‘pest problem’, as he called it.

  “The tunnels were often used by smugglers and thieves, and I had my fair share of skirmishes in the stink.

  “The point is,” he hurried, “I know there are tunnels far beneath these buildings that could be a perfect staging point for any number of clandestine activities. Most of them have been sealed off from the rest of the city, so Calistra could do as she pleased without fear of discovery.”

  Jericho spoke up, “That’s all well and good, but do you have a map, or are we just guessing?”

  Hade frowned, “We’re guessing.”

  He held up his hand, “But, with the location of the warehouse you saw those Lockhaven men go into, I think I have a pretty good idea of where she’s holed-up.”

  He began to draw in the mud of the alley with a stick, “That warehouse is two blocks away; here.” He stabbed.

  “There was an old crypt that was used by a sect of Zuthian priests here,” again, he pointed. He drew lines between the structures to a third box in the dirt.

  “Just on the other side of this building behind me is a warehouse that has access to the sewer tunnels. If Calistra has set up in the crypts, as I think is most likely, we can come at her from a ‘back door’ if you will. She shouldn’t be expecting an attack, so we can hit her hard and fast.”

  He paused, looking at the group. No one had anything to say. They all knew the score. There could be a hundred men or more down there, or there could be five. The only way to know for sure was to go down in and see.

  “Well, let’s find this bitch and ruin her party,” said Ethelrynne.

  Everyone gaped. She smiled as she straightened, nocking an arrow to her bow. The others began to ready their weapons, a few chuckled quietly, smirking at the tension-breaking comment.

  Hade smiled at her, drawing his sword. At least they would be together.

  He felt like they could take on anything and beat the odds. He supposed it was his infatuation that buoyed his spirits, but wasn’t willing to look a gift horse in the mouth.

  Dispelling the last of his doubts, he began to stalk around the building, keeping to the shadows, while his team followed after on cat’s feet.

  Chapter 31

  Dramus ran without though
t. He couldn’t tell where he was going. Stumbling through a few darkened turns, he finally saw light down one corridor. He made for it, then stopped.

  Which way should he go? If he went toward the light, it surely would lead to his recapture. If he went off into the dark, he could be lost for days, or worse. He could fall into a well or a pit and lay in the dark, dying alone.

  Just as he’d decided to make for the light, a bony hand gripped his shoulder and he yelped.

  Pale blue eyes blazed in the dark, and Dramus could just make out the sharply wrinkled features of Calistra’s wizard, Tolwyn. His spirits crashed to the stones below.

  “I think you had better stop all this foolish running about,” the mage said, his voice like fingernails on a chalkboard.

  Clearly the man was ancient, but he must have enhanced his strength with magic. Try as he might, Dramus couldn’t break the man’s grasp.

  “All this wriggling will not avail you,” Tolwyn hissed. He yanked Dramus forcibly around, and began marching him back toward the device.

  “I’ve been bending the very fabric of reality since well before you were born. Do not test me.”

  With that, the glowing eyes grew brighter, and searing pain lanced through Dramus’s body. Had he not been caught in the vice-grip of the wizard, he’d have hit his knees. As it was, he staggered, whimpering feebly.

  It was in this state that he was brought back to the circular chamber. Calistra stood silently regarding the corpse of her former captain of the guard. She looked up as the two entered, her eyes pools of hate.

  “You see what you’ve done? I’ve slaughtered my right-hand-man.”

  She stepped toward him, brilliant green blade raised before her. Dramus tried to look away, but Tolwyn’s other incredibly strong hand jerked his head to face her.

  “You understand now what I will do to any who get in my way,” she hissed.

  Dramus nodded in a barely perceptible motion. She looked up at Tolwyn.

  “Stay here with him,” she commanded, “I want the device operational immediately.”

  She let the blade linger near Dramus’s face for a heartbeat longer, before moving away down the corridor.

  Tolwyn shoved him to the dais, and Dramus nearly tripped over the bodies littering the floor. He sobbed softly.

  “Do it. Now,” Tolwyn said.

  Dramus blinked away his tears, and began to fumble once again with the nuclear bomb. He made no progress, too distraught to work.

  Suddenly his vision faded, and he felt another presence force its way into his mind. He resisted, but the power of Malavarious Drejth was titanic compared to his will.

  Chapter 32

  The guard which stood just outside the entrance to the basement of the warehouse sprouted an arrow from his eye and dropped. Hade nodded gratefully to Ethelrynne before continuing into the room.

  They’d breached the warehouse without resistance, and were currently making their way down into the old sewers. The guard at the trapdoor was a good sign they were on the right track.

  Unfortunately, Hade thought, we have no idea what their watch routines are like, and that first kill sets our timetable in motion.

  He scurried to the man’s corpse and checked him over. He wore a Lockhaven tabard over mail. Hade silently pointed it out to the group, before opening the trap gingerly.

  The hinges squeaked mildly in protest, but there was nothing for it. Hade nodded to the others, indicated the amulet at his neck, and descended into the dark.

  They’d all been issued magical charms by Günter’s court wizard. The amulets would allow them to see in the dark, for a short time. This would let the group get the jump on the baroness’s men, without giving away themselves with torches.

  Hade had audibly sighed in relief when the man had brought forth the items.

  Now he led them through the basement, to another trapdoor, this one clumsily concealed with sacks of moldy grain. The dust around the door had obviously been disturbed and it gave away the door to anyone bothering to look.

  They moved deeper into the sewers. After several hundred yards, Hade began to see a light ahead. He knew that the moment of truth was at hand. Surprisingly, he felt little fear at the idea.

  He halted the group, and as they gathered, whispered in the dark.

  “This is it. We hit them hard and fast. Reynolt,” he nodded to the young wizard, “keep your eyes out for any mages. I don’t know if Drejth will be with them, but keep on your toes.”

  Reynolt nodded in return.

  “The rest of you stick with me. Ethelrynne will cover us with her bow,” he set his hand on the princess’s arm. She patted it reassuringly.

  “Remember, the goal is Calistra Emberlock and her artifact. Everything else is irrelevant. Take her alive if you can, dead if need be. Head back to the rally point if and when we succeed.

  “Ready?”

  Everyone nodded. Hade turned and got set.

  No more plans, no more speeches. All that was left was action.

  He continued at half a crouch down the corridor, noting as he did that the light was coming from around a corner in the hall.

  He sidled up to it and listened. Men were talking in whatever room lay beyond.

  He darted his head around the corner, and quickly back. He had seen a large room with a round table and several men milling about it.

  He held up his hand to the others, indicating five soldiers. There were probably more, but he couldn’t be sure.

  Gripping his longsword, he steeled himself and then charged around the bend.

  Chapter 33

  Dramus stood overlooking Galloway, or what was left of it. He was standing in the same spot he had been in when they’d first seen the city from the bench of the wagon.

  Below, there was only smoldering ash. Ships in the roiling bay beyond were like candles ablaze.

  “Enjoying the view?”

  He started, and saw a man standing next to him. He immediately knew it was Drejth, although he’d never seen the shade before. He began to realize that the wraith was in his head, and he shivered.

  “You have a choice, Dramus,” Drejth sighed, turning to face him.

  “You can be part of the rubble you see here, with your soul as mine to torment, or you can do your job and finish arming the warhead.”

  “How did you even know about it?” Dramus asked, suddenly curious, despite the situation.

  “Because I remember,” Drejth spat. “I remember the world before Tancred Van Uther forced me to use my magic to make the people forget. I remember Earth.”

  The name struck Dramus, and he immediately remembered glyphs on the door to the Vault of Secrets.

  Suddenly the panorama changed to reflect the memory, and the two stood in the darkened corridor outside the Vault.

  Drejth waved his hand and the door slid open, revealing the lit corridor beyond. They began to move through it, not really walking, but not standing still.

  “You see, humans are not native to Valia,” he held up his hand at Dramus’s shocked expression.

  “I know, I know-impossible. But alas, it’s true. This ‘Vault’ you see here, it is actually merely part of a massive spacecraft; a ship that sailed the stars.”

  They came to a room with several computer stations, and Drejth waved one into life. The screen showed the green-blue orb of Earth. As he spoke, the view zoomed in to show Dramus the cities of the human home world.

  “We were an advanced race, Dramus. We’d left our backwards ways behind millennia ago, to explore science and technology. We built wonders undreamt of in your ‘modern’ age.”

  The images scrolled through shots of aircraft, ships on the ocean, cars, robots, skyscrapers, on and on in an endless stream of wonders. Dramus struggled to keep up, both with the pictures and with what he was being told.

  “Now to be fair, we did overstep our bounds there toward the end,” Drejth said, almost apologetically, “But there were foolish men in charge then.”

  Now the
images began to show massive war machines, with biomechanical structures, bristling with weapons of unimaginable power.

  “We made the Dragons, creatures of both flesh and steel, to fight our wars for us.

  “Unfortunately,” he waved his hand and the monitor changed to scenes of massive devastation, rioting, and eventually a mass exodus to giant spacecraft clawing for orbit.

  “The damn things got pissed off!”

  Drejth chuckled as Dramus watched the end of the Earth in horror.

  Several monstrosities were tearing at the very fabric of the world, while more preyed upon ships too slow or too late to escape. It was death on an unimaginable scale, and Dramus began to weep.

  “Yes, it was tragic,” Malavarius said in a voice that seemed to say he thought anything but, “Humanity paid for its arrogance, but not in full.”

  The images changed to graphic animations showing ships spreading out from the origin point of Earth to seed hundreds of planets throughout the galaxy. Dramus was reeling from the info, his brain buzzing with the power of his gift.

  Eventually the graphic was replaced with something like a log, showing the crew of a starship, working and going about their daily tasks, in environs strikingly similar to the halls Dramus now found himself in.

  “Valia was one of the plausible planets for colonization, and so a seed ship was sent here. Unfortunately, she came under attack by the greatest of the Dragons, Renge, while en route.”

  The monitor showed scenes of panic, with sparks and flames shooting from consoles, and shouting people running about.

  At one point a massive claw ripped through the ceiling and the screen faded to white snow.

  “We’re lucky anyone survived the crash, to be honest.” Drejth turned to face Dramus, as the Vault behind him dissolved to a dull gray void.

  “Humanity is incredibly tenacious, however, and here we are.