Angrily, Faegan thought of Geldon lying dead on the table, and the manner in which he had been killed. “Does Reznik use dead bodies in his work?” he asked.
“Yes,” Uther said. “He sometimes employs the bodies of suicides. He pays more for those—especially if the corpse’s blood was endowed. A grave robber secures them for him.”
Sighing deeply, Faegan nodded. It was becoming clear that his analysis of Geldon’s death had been correct.
Faegan was quickly developing a better understanding of the assassin. She was a cold, ruthless professional who would stop at nothing to complete her job. Clearly, she was rarely equaled for cunning and inventiveness, and despite what they had learned, finding her would remain next to impossible. He wondered who her benefactor was.
Looking at the captive, Lionel the Little slowly removed his spectacles and wiped his face with one hand. After repositioning his spectacles, he cleared his throat.
“Are there women and children in Valrenkium, are there?” he asked harshly, in his peculiar way of speaking.
“Yes.”
“Are all of the adults willing practitioners of your dark arts?” Lionel asked.
“Of course,” Uther answered. “Why else would they be there?”
“What about the children?”
“Until they are old enough to learn our secrets, the children are innocents. They begin apprenticing at the age of seventeen.”
“Tell us more about the people you abduct,” Lionel said. “What do you do with them, what do you do?”
“We use their body parts to produce our wares. We do not always kill the women that we take. Sometimes we hold the more attractive ones for…other purposes.” Uther smiled again.
“During the Sorceresses’ War, it was rumored that the occasional gnome woman was also taken,” he added. “It is said that they were particularly prized. Some of them even came to like it.”
Surprising everyone, Lionel tore from his chair and launched himself at the Valrenkian. With a crash, they both went down to the floor. Screaming, Lionel began pummeling Uther’s face.
Knowing how difficult it would be for Faegan to stop the gnome while also keeping his hold on Uther’s mind, Adrian lifted one hand. An azure bolt shot from her fingers, striking Lionel squarely in the back. Using the bolt to take hold of him, she smoothly levitated him back toward the table.
His face beet red, the squirming gnome was returned to his seat. With another bolt, Adrian carefully righted Uther’s chair. The Valrenkian’s nose was bleeding, and two of his teeth were on the floor. She had to admit that she wasn’t sorry.
Faegan looked harshly at the gnome. “Must I place a warp about you, as well?” he asked angrily.
Folding his arms over his chest, Lionel glowered at Uther. “I’m sorry, Master, yes, I am,” he said. “But you know better than most about the injustices that have been inflicted upon us gnomes over the centuries, yes, you do.”
Unafraid, Lionel looked into the wizard’s eyes. “When we are done here, all I ask is a few moments alone with this animal.”
As much as Faegan would have liked to, he couldn’t permit such a thing. He knew that Lionel understood that, too. He placed one hand on Lionel’s shoulder.
“Tell me,” he asked softly. “Do you wish to become like him?”
Lionel remained silent. Faegan resumed his questioning of Uther.
“Other than the bluffs that surround Valrenkium, what defenses do you have there?” he asked.
“Endowed archers stand atop the walls,” Uther answered. “The only way in or out is through a maze of sandstone tunnels. The entrance must first be revealed by one of us. To safely navigate the tunnels, you must know the way. Inside, one wrong turn and you’re dead.”
“What else?”
“Creatures,” Uther said softly.
“What kind of creatures?” Abbey asked.
Uther shook his head. “You may force my mind all you wish to, but I cannot answer that. Only Reznik knows. He alone controls them. Some say that these beasts were first conjured by the Coven. Legend says that the creatures are immortal.”
Deciding to end the interrogation for the time being, Faegan raised one arm. The Valrenkian’s eyes snapped wide open once more.
“You will remember nothing of what happened here,” Faegan said. “In addition, you will not remember being taken from your home. Should you attempt to use any of your gifts of the craft, you will find yourself powerless to do so. Do you understand?”
Uther stared blankly out at nothing. “I understand,” he whispered.
The wizard snapped his fingers. Uther slipped back into unconsciousness, his head slumping forward onto his chest. His breathing became deep and rhythmic. Blood dripped lazily from his wounded mouth.
Faegan glanced over at his friends. They looked stunned.
“I didn’t know you could do that,” Abbey said.
Faegan gave her a short smile. “You still have much to learn,” he said. “This kind of thing is relatively simple to accomplish when the subject is a partial adept. But trying to make it work on a full-fledged wizard or sorceress is another thing altogether.”
“What shall we do?” Adrian asked. “While we sit here, innocent people are being tortured. Even worse, the Vagaries are being practiced.”
Faegan laced his fingers together.
“There is only one thing to do,” he said quietly. Pausing for a moment, he glanced at their captive.
“I am taking the Minions back to Valrenkium,” he said. His expression hardened.
“And this time,” he added softly, “their mission will be quite different.”
CHAPTER XLIV
_____
FLYING SOME DISTANCE AWAY FROM TRAAX, DUVESSA COULD see his dark form highlighted by the setting sun.
Duvessa and Traax each led a sizable phalanx of warriors. The wizard’s litter followed a short distance behind, borne through the air by twelve stout warriors. Ox flew in the lead, guiding them toward their destination.
Though Duvessa’s female fighters had not yet passed their rites of ascension, Faegan had asked for volunteers from her group to participate in this urgent mission. He had told them that now, in actual combat, they would earn their red feathers. Duvessa was proud of her women: There had been no shortage of volunteers.
Ox raised one hand, and the entire war party slowed to hover in the air. When Faegan’s litter caught up, Ox pointed toward the southwest. “Valrenkium be just beyond border to Hartwick Wood,” he said.
Faegan nodded. “Well done,” he said. He looked at Traax and Duvessa.
“Remember your orders,” he said sternly. “I want everyone to land swiftly, ready to fight. This Reznik must surely have assumed that we would return in strength, and he has had ample time to make plans of his own. There is no telling what awaits us down there.” He paused for a moment. “May the Afterlife look over us all.”
Faegan cast his gaze into the distance and used the craft to make out the sheer sandstone bluffs. Closing his eyes, he hoped against hope that he was doing the right thing. Then he nodded, and the twin phalanxes regrouped and began to pick up speed.
As they approached Valrenkium, they saw no archers atop the bluffs. The dark entrance to the tunnels Uther had described lay open, but Faegan knew better than to enter.
Soaring over the bluffs, he ordered the phalanxes to descend into the heart of Valrenkium. Dreggans drawn, four thousand anxious warriors landed quietly in the village square. Faegan’s litter came to rest near Duvessa, Traax, and Ox. As the wizard levitated his chair out and onto the ground, the Minions fanned out.
Valrenkium seemed deserted. The wind whistled hauntingly through the streets, whirling up little maelstroms of debris. Many of the buildings’ doors banged open and closed in the wind, adding to the nerve-racking tension.
Down th
e single road that led out of town, the gibbets were empty. Blood still dripped slowly from many of them as they creaked to and fro. Scowling, Faegan looked over at Duvessa and Traax.
“Start kicking in doors,” he ordered sternly. “Before we leave, we must be sure that no one was left behind. If you find any evidence of the craft—no matter how small—send for me at once.”
Feet and fists flying, the Minions began barging through doors and windows. As time went by, the groups returned one by one to say that the buildings were all deserted, barren of people, even of food and drink. All of the tools of the Valrenkians’ craft—the herbs, roots and precious oils—were also missing. After more than an hour of searching, Traax, Duvessa, and Ox walked back over to the litter.
“We’re too late,” Traax said angrily, sheathing his dreggan.
“What are your orders?” Duvessa asked the wizard.
Looking around, Faegan took a moment to think. He was angry with himself. Perhaps the only opportunity he would ever have to crush the Corporeals had slipped right through his fingers. He hated to admit it, but it was unlikely that such a chance would ever come again.
Trying to decide what to do, he looked to the sky. Darkness was falling quickly.
“There’s nothing more we can do here,” he concluded. “Make ready to leave for Tammerland. I want to have as many warriors guarding the palace as we—”
The first explosion was loud and grating—like stone grinding against stone. Then came another, and another. Dust-colored smoke filled the night air. The crashes came so quickly that they became an earsplitting wall of continuous noise. Faegan looked up and his mouth fell open.
From the tops of the bluffs surrounding the village, huge fingers of living stone shot into the air. Like tentacles, they grew out from one side of the bluffs, bridged the space above the village, narrowly missing the roofs of the buildings, and stopped at the other side, where they fused with the living rock of the far bluffs. They were numerous and spaced less than a foot apart.
When the noise finally stopped, the warriors and the wizard stared up through the smoke. From bluff to bluff, a latticelike arrangement of stone columns crisscrossed the entire area above them. Faegan was stunned. The dense smoke and the amazing speed with which the things had formed had given him no real opportunity to act. He was forced to admit that Reznik had easily tempted them all into a trap.
Suddenly, there was a scratching, grinding noise. Although softer, it was no less nerve-racking.
The sides of the bluffs began to move, sections of the walls morphing into cones. A blazing torch appeared within each one; the many flames easily illuminated the entire square. While the captives stood there in wonder, silence reclaimed the village.
“How is this possible?” Traax asked. “I thought partial adepts couldn’t summon such immense power.”
“Impressive,” Faegan answered quietly as he continued to examine the structure that imprisoned them. “Partial adepts are the undisputed masters of the organic realm of the craft,” he added. “Stone and fire are certainly a part of that world. Partial adepts may possess only partial blood signatures, but that does not necessarily mean the quality of their blood cannot be high. Now the question before us is one of escape.”
Traax snapped open his wings and flew the short distance up to the stone grid. He slid his dreggan from its scabbard and hacked his blade several times against one of the newly formed bars. The sword had no effect. Faegan motioned to Traax to move aside.
The azure bolts that streamed from the wizard’s hands were perhaps the brightest the warriors had ever seen. While Faegan strained to hold the bolts securely against one of the stone bars, dense smoke rose. Finally tiring, he lowered his hands. When the smoke cleared they could see that aside from black singe marks, the stone hadn’t been affected at all.
“There must be another way out of here,” Traax protested. “No cage in the world can hold this many Minion warriors against their will.”
Faegan pursed his lips. “I fear this one can,” he replied. Looking back toward the tunnel exit, he shook his head. “Uther told us that the only other way out of here was the tunnel,” he added. “He said that it is full of danger. ‘One wrong move and you’re dead,’ was how he described it.”
“Still, there seems no other choice,” Duvessa countered. “The food and water are all gone. Forced to stay here long enough, we’ll all starve to death.”
“I’m aware of that,” Faegan said ruefully. “I’m also beginning to acquire a better sense of this Reznik fellow. I don’t believe he meant for us to simply starve to death. No, I fear that the worst of our troubles are yet to come.”
No sooner had the wizard finished his sentence than the ground began to tremble. Stunned and confused, the warriors anxiously looked around and many drew their swords. Soon the ground shook so violently that they all found it difficult to remain standing. Some of them took to the air, to hovering just above the quaking earth. The warriors responsible for Faegan’s litter quickly bore it aloft.
Then, with great heaving motions, the earth began to open. Dust flew high as the square-shaped sections of ground slowly levered themselves upward like trapdoors. The openings revealed darkness below. All went quiet again, but Faegan knew the silence was not to last.
When the rumbling began, Faegan tried to shout to Traax, but the noise drowned out his voice. More of the warriors left the ground, but more than half of them were still earthbound when the first of the beasts came charging up out of their lairs. Furious, the screaming, grunting monsters ripped into the warriors.
Faegan raised his arms and shot bolts squarely into the back of the first creature, tearing it to bits.
Urgently looking around, he gasped as dozens more of the earthen doors released hundreds of the terrifying beasts.
Each creature was about the size of a full-grown deer. They ran on all fours, easily leaping a dozen feet or more in a single bound. Their heads were like those of wild boars, with long snouts, slanted red eyes, and almond-shaped ears. Their bodies were stout and their short legs powerful, ending in sharp, cloven hooves. Their hides were covered with long, sharp spines. Curved tusks bracketed their mouths.
Duvessa called out orders to her warriors, but she could not make herself heard above the sounds of the attack. And then one of the creatures charged at her and she had to focus on defending herself.
Forcing herself to wait until the last moment, she swung the heavy sword with all her strength. The tip of the dreggan slashed across the monster’s throat, releasing a torrent of blood. When the screaming beast went down onto its front knees, she raised the dreggan with both hands and plunged the blade into the top of its skull. Pulling the bloody sword out, she quickly looked around and her gorge rose.
The monsters weren’t simply killing the Minions. They were devouring them. All around her fallen warriors screamed as the dark beasts tore into their flesh, the powerful jaws driving those long teeth through the toughest Minion body armor as if it weren’t there.
Nearby, one of the monsters was attempting to take a bite out of one of Duvessa’s warriors. Duvessa rushed over and slashed her sword across the back of the thing’s neck, then quickly backed away. Turning its head toward her, the beast cried out. But despite its bleeding wound, it eagerly went back to devouring its victim. Duvessa struck it once, twice, a third time, and finally severed its head.
Duvessa looked down into the eyes of the fallen warrior. The woman’s body was torn wide, and she was moaning in pain and fear. When she saw her leader standing over her, she calmed a bit. With a trembling hand she reached out, grasped Duvessa’s blade, and used her last bit of strength to place the dreggan’s tip against her throat. Her gaze was beseeching.
Understanding, Duvessa nodded. Knowing it would be the quickest, surest way, she felt for the hidden button in her sword hilt and pushed it. With a clang the dreggan’s blade launch
ed its extra foot, ending the warrior’s life.
It was all Duvessa could do to force down the vomit. Trying to collect herself, she turned back to the battle. Soon more of the awful things fell to her swinging sword.
From his litter in the air, Faegan did his best to destroy the beasts as they exited the dark holes in the earth. Given their great numbers, even he couldn’t kill them all. He had lost sight of Traax and Ox, but he knew that the officers were doing all that they could. Those warriors who had managed to lift into the air before the beasts struck were having a better time of it. But the majority of the warriors had remained on the ground. Many of them were dead, the beasts hungrily tearing away chunks of their flesh.
Having landed, Traax suddenly found himself facing three of the snarling things at once. His back up against a building, he had nowhere to go. He knew that if he tried to concentrate all of his efforts on killing one of them, the other two would eventually find an opening and rush in.
He swung his dreggan in slashing arcs, trying as best he could to keep the things at bay. His hands covered with blood and his shoulders nearly ready to give out, he knew that if someone didn’t come to his aid, the monsters would soon rip into him.
Suddenly a small group of warriors led by Ox descended behind the beasts. They raised their dreggans high and began to hack at the monsters. After what seemed like an eternity, the creatures’ mangled bodies lay dead between them.
Traax nodded at Ox and his troops in thanks. His arms covered with blood, Ox grinned.
The fighting had by now all but ended. Exhausted warriors walked among the dying creatures, finishing them off with their quick, hard sword strokes. Smoke from Faegan’s bolts lazily wafted into the air. The smell of fresh blood was everywhere. Looking up, Traax could see the wizard was safe in his litter.
Suddenly he thought of Duvessa. Sprinting through the square, he frantically called out her name.
He found her leaning against the side of a building. She was bloody and dazed, but she seemed unharmed. He ran to her and took her into his arms. In a rare public display of Minion affection, Traax unfolded his dark wings and he gently wrapped them around her, silently telling her that it would be all right.
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