The Complete Twilight Reign Ebook Collection

by Tom Lloyd

  Realising the little mage was no threat, Mihn dropped down and hooked his arm around Hulf’s chest in one practised movement. The powerful dog squirmed to get out of his grip, but Mihn managed to manoeuvre him back far enough for Isak to take Hulf by the scruff of the neck, at which he finally quietened.

  ‘My— Ah, my Lord, my apologies!’ Endine gabbled, hands still protectively over his head. ‘I didn’t realise the room was in use.’

  ‘I was just leaving,’ the witch said. She inclined her head to both Isak and Mihn and stepped neatly over the floundering mage, taking the opportunity to leave before anything more could be said. Isak watched her go with a strange sense of loss, but he suppressed the feeling and reminded himself of everything he still had to do that day.

  ‘Come in, Master Endine,’ Mihn said, helping the man up.

  ‘You are recovered then?’

  It was rare that Mihn physically overshadowed any man, but he looked large and powerful compared to Tomal Endine. Though they were of a similar height, Endine was as frail as a decrepit old man. He reminded Isak of someone back in Tirah, but as the thought struck it was accompanied by a sharp pain in his head and he lurched sideways against the armchair, bandaged arm flailing wildly as the chair scraped across the parquet floor before catching on something.

  Mihn grabbed his good hand and hauled on it as hard as he could, fighting to keep the huge white-eye on his feet until he had steadied himself.

  Moaning, he sank to his knees, one arm draped over the chair’s armrest, as sparks of pain flashed through his head and a cold, empty void opened up in his mind. ‘It’s not there,’ he gasped, blinking back tears. ‘His name’s darkness, just darkness—!’

  ‘Darkness?’ squawked Endine. ‘What do you mean my name is darkness?’

  ‘Quiet,’ Mihn ordered before crouching at Isak’s side. ‘Isak, breathe, just look at me and breathe. His name is Tomal Endine, you remember?’

  Isak shook his head. ‘Not him, another man, looks like him.’ He shuddered and screwed up his eyes until he found the strength to take a long heaving breath, then a second. ‘The holes in my mind – it’s not like forgetting,’ he whispered.

  ‘I know – I wish it were; but some of your memories could not be forgotten – we had to cut them out,’ Mihn said compassionately.

  ‘Who’s the man? The man in Tirah?’

  Mihn turned to the bemused Endine. ‘Who looks like him?’

  ‘A priest? I see his face, a man in robes, and Death’s hand on his shoulder.’

  ‘A dead priest? High Cardinal Echer, perhaps?’

  Isak looked blank at the suggestion, and Mihn decided that was probably correct, if Isak couldn’t remember the name of the man who’d performed his investiture as Lord of the Farlan.

  ‘The High Cardinal, yes – there is a superficial similarity between them, though Echer was an older man.’

  ‘Ruggedly handsome, I presume?’ Endine asked with tentative humour.

  Isak shook his head drunkenly and allowed Mihn to help him up into the chair. ‘A worm,’ he gasped as he recovered himself, ‘a madman we had to kill.’

  ‘Well, honestly!’ Endine bristled, his attempt at wit eclipsed by the white-eye’s antagonism.

  ‘Calm yourself, Master Endine,’ Mihn interrupted, ‘he was killed by his own. It was the High Priest of Death I murdered, so you are quite safe. Now, you came in here for a reason?’

  Endine opened his mouth, then shut it again with a snap. He had been unconscious for days after the battle, drained by his exertions, and then spent another two in complete silence as he mourned his friend, Shile Cetarn, who had died during the battle. The two had been constant companions, colleagues and magical sparring partners for more than a decade, and without the oversized Cetarn beside him, Endine looked even less substantial.

  Isak found it hard to believe this man was one of the finest battle-mages in Narkang. He’d grown used to using physical strength to contain and channel terrifying levels of magic, and he equated that to power, but it wasn’t necessarily so; a mage’s mental control and skill was at least as important as his physical capacity. While Endine was a weak man, he was brilliant and deft, almost the opposite to Isak’s own raw talent.

  ‘I came to use the mirror,’ he said in a quiet voice. ‘The king ordered me to fetch a man who’s travelling here from Narkang.’

  ‘Help yourself,’ Isak said. ‘I’ll just sit here if you don’t mind. Is it a magic mirror?’

  ‘No – well, yes, sort of. Judging by the quality of workmanship it was clearly made using magic, but I’ll be the one performing the spell.’ He scuttled over to the fireplace and after a wary glance back at Isak, reached into the pocket of his robe. It showed signs of careful repair after the battle; he might not be strong enough to wield a sword effectively, but Endine had been in the fort with King Emin as the Menin infantry launched their final frenzied assault, and without his desperate efforts it was very possible there would have been no survivors of that final stand. In the whole Narkang Army, probably only Cetarn had killed more men.

  From his robe Endine reverently withdrew a Crystal Skull. It was too large for him to hold comfortably in one hand so he pressed the artefact to his chest while he drew chalk symbols on the edge of the mantelpiece.

  ‘Snap,’ Isak muttered, and when Endine turned and looked at him with puzzled irritation he held up the bag containing the Skull of Ruling.

  ‘So you are one of those chosen?’ Mihn said gravely.

  Endine stopped working a moment and visibly stiffened. ‘Of course I was chosen,’ he said in a quiet voice. ‘Who else is more qualified? And besides, I refuse to allow that fat oaf Cetarn to have all the glory – I cannot have history remember me as some sort of apprentice of his.’

  Isak saw Mihn smile at that. The squabbling pair of mages had fitted into the Brotherhood perfectly; the competition and abuse between them had matched anything Doranei and his fellows came out with, and it had masked the same fierce loyalty and friendship.

  ‘It will be dangerous,’ Mihn said quietly.

  ‘I have learned a little of duty in my years, young man,’ Endine snapped, ‘and I’m better able than most to deal with the danger.’

  ‘Who else has them?’

  The Crystal Skulls had been divided up amongst people they could trust – quite apart from the fact that few mages would have the strength to control more than one, the Menin lord had clearly been hunting them all down. King Emin decided it would be far harder for Azaer to steal the greater part if they were not all in one place.

  ‘Camba Firnin has Protection, since you, Lord Isak, did not want it returned, while Tasseran Holtai has accepted Dreams, which should expand the scope of his scrying skills enormously. Morghien will take Joy with him into Byoran territory – more as a Brotherhood joke, I suspect – while Blood has been entrusted to your General Lahk. Unsurprisingly, Fei Ebarn was given Destruction. Knowledge I hold here, and Elements is to go to the man I summon today.’

  Mihn bit back any further questions and left the mage to complete his preparations. Once the thick front edge of the mantelpiece had runic symbols down its length, Endine wrote with a tall, florid script on each side of the mirror before touching the Skull to the glass. Under his breath he started to chant, and Isak found himself holding his breath as the texture of the air started to thicken and the already dim room grew steadily darker.

  The Land contracted around him with the growing gloom and Isak found his hand questing down for Hulf’s reassuring warmth as the walls and ceiling started to fade from his perception. There was a tiny sound, on the edge of hearing, but one that made him shiver all the same – it was too close to the far-off wails of the damned in Ghenna for his liking.

  ‘Damn imagination,’ Mihn muttered, echoing Isak’s thoughts.

  ‘You heard that?’ Endine said softly. ‘That wasn’t your imagination; the boundaries between worlds are weakened while the Gods are drained. Most normal men wouldn’t hear it, but
I suppose you would be rather more sensitive to the other side than most, wouldn’t you?’ He paused and looked back at Mihn. ‘Some sounds you never forget.’

  Before Mihn could find a reply Endine had returned to his spell – then the reflection in the mirror moved unexpectedly. Isak blinked, and realised it had become more than just a reflection; the lines of the darkened room had turned into somewhere different entirely, and he could now make out a much larger figure than Endine. Without warning a hand reached forward and pushed through the surface of the mirror, followed swiftly by a man’s head. The man blinked at them, as though checking they were in fact real, before he stepped through onto the mantelpiece and dropped down to the ground.

  ‘Master Endine,’ he said gravely, offering his hand in a perfunctory way, apparently unsurprised when it was ignored.

  The man was no older than forty summers, Isak guessed, with a thin, clipped beard and more jewellery than even most Farlan nobleman would think appropriate. His travelling clothes were expensively cut, and he had rubies dangling from his ears, a fat pearl at his throat, and all sorts of gold rings on his fingers. Both the clasp of his cloak and his belt-buckle were golden dragons with displayed wings and rubies for eyes, while the long dagger on his belt was so ornate Isak could scarcely believe anyone could use it in anger.

  ‘Are all your servants so insolent?’ the newcomer demanded as Mihn, standing closer than Isak, inspected him with obvious interest. The man’s fingers dropped to the garnet pommel of his knife.

  ‘Ah, he is no servant, Master Ashain,’ Endine said quickly, stepping in between the two. ‘This is Mihn ab— Ah, well, I forget the rest, but he is a much respected man by the king.’

  ‘I’m also no servant,’ Isak piped up. Mihn turned and put a hand on the white-eye’s shoulder, hearing the antagonistic tone to his voice, but Isak didn’t take the hint. ‘But I am pretty insolent, so if you’re planning on pulling that knife, stop teasing and fucking well draw the thing.’

  To his credit Ashain didn’t take a step back, merely withdrew his hands and delicately brushed his fingers. There was no fear on the man’s face, just astonishment and disdain as he gazed at the scarred white-eye sitting before him. His eyes were cold and grey, with faint crows-feet at the corners and long dark lashes.

  ‘And you are?’

  ‘Someone who doesn’t like your face.’

  ‘As someone appears to have taken a dislike to yours.’

  Endine took another step forward. ‘Gentlemen, please! Isak, there’s no need for that; he is not the enemy.’

  Now the shock did register on Ashain’s face. ‘Isak? Lord Isak?’ He looked the white-eye up and down, clearly now registering Isak was bigger than most white-eyes, and so likely to be one of the Chosen. ‘What— How?’

  ‘My servant here,’ Isak said, pointing at Mihn, ‘you can call him Grave Thief if you like.’

  ‘Astonishing! Endine, you will take some time later to let me know how it was done?’ Ashain said, suddenly alight with academic curiosity.

  ‘I shall, as far as I have gleaned the details,’ Endine agreed, ‘but first we have rather more pressing business.’

  ‘And what would that be? As much as I enjoy mirror-travel when someone else capable is doing the work for a change, I have had to come a long way on horseback beforehand. Your master had better have a good reason for dragging me out this way without warning.’

  ‘My master, but the king of both of us,’ Endine warned. ‘That you have a personal dispute with him makes no difference; we are his subjects and he requires your service.’

  ‘My service?’ spluttered Ashain. ‘Has he taken leave of his senses? I’m no mere King’s Man to come running when he clicks his fingers.’

  Isak made a face. ‘Sounds like you are now.’

  ‘Isak is, I’m afraid, essentially correct. He requires your contribution to the war effort. You will be rewarded, but he will not accept no for an answer.’

  ‘Well, that’s all he’s going to bloody get, king or not!’

  Endine raised a hand. ‘Master Ashain, we may have had our disputes, but I respect you as a peer of remarkable skill. However, the king is not interested in respect right now. Our losses have been too great. Because of your dispute, you have been under surveillance for a while now.’

  Ashain narrowed his eyes. ‘What are you saying?’

  ‘That we are already certain you hold no allegiances that could compromise us, and at such short notice we don’t have time to make sure about someone else. Your king requires your services to aid the survival of the nation. To refuse him will be considered treason.’

  ‘Treason?’ Ashain growled, ‘this is outrageous – it flouts the very laws the man wrote with his own hand.’

  ‘And as such demonstrates the gravity of the situation,’ Endine said, almost wheezing with the effort of maintaining a calm, diplomatic demeanour. ‘I would rather not spell out what might happen if you refuse him.’

  ‘But it’ll start with someone like me cutting your fucking head off,’ said Isak, who had fewer qualms about that. ‘Don’t know who he’ll send after your family and friends, but the Mad Axe has got a strange sense o’ fun, and Zhia Vukotic is just in the next room, so I’m guessing they’ll be just as screwed.’

  Ashain purpled at what he was hearing, but not even Isak displayed the slightest hint of amusement. He watched each twitch with almost detached interest, wondering how many times a subject of King Emin’s had been pressed into service this way. While most would surely not have required such threats, Ashain was clearly a rich and powerful man in his own right, and obviously one of the few King Emin couldn’t command with a look.

  But this is an age of burning bridges¸ Isak reminded himself sadly. What else will we sacrifice for this fight? Is there anything we won’t do for victory?

  The mage’s thoughts were writ clear on his face as anger and astonishment gave way to acceptance with the speed only a self-made man could manage. His accent had already betrayed him as a man not born to the wealth he now displayed, and it was obvious to the men in the room that he was now calculating what profit could be made from such outrage.

  ‘The king’s terms?’ he asked in a quiet voice.

  ‘To be negotiated when you next see him. He has just left Moorview; you could probably catch him, but your position might be strengthened by proving your worth first.’

  ‘And what is this service he requires? To march with his armies?’

  Endine withdrew a second Crystal Skull from his robe and held it out. ‘For the time being: possession of this.’

  ‘Merciful Gods,’ breathed Ashain, ‘is this a joke? You coerce me into service and then gift me with one of the greatest artefacts in existence?’

  ‘It is not a gift,’ Endine said firmly, ‘it is custodianship. You must be able to use the Skull in battle but most importantly you must guard it.’

  ‘And the king cannot do this himself?’

  ‘We control nine of the Skulls, perhaps ten now. Our enemies will be seeking them, and it would be madness to keep them all in one place when our goal is to deny them to that enemy. The Skulls cannot be tracked or traced except by the inefficient expenditure of energies, but you will have to be on your guard at all times, even when you are with the army.’

  Ashain held the Skull up to catch the light and stared at the slight flaws and colours it revealed. Wonder and delight spread across his face. ‘The king’s service is less onerous than I imagined.’

  ‘Don’t worry, this is as good as it gets,’ Isak said, gingerly lifting himself out of his seat. ‘Unless visiting foreign cities is your thing?’

  ‘That would depend on the city, I suppose.’

  ‘Vanach?’

  ‘Hah! You’d have to be mad to try that.’

  Isak gave him a humourless grin. ‘Daken’s coming, so we’ve got that covered. Fortunately for the rest, we’ve got inside information that should see us to the Grand Ziggurat itself.’

  ‘And you
expect me to join you?’ Ashain asked, looking pale.

  The man’s arrogance had its limits, Isak was pleased to note. Ashain wasn’t so foolish as to consider infiltrating a repressive religious state lightly, especially given the recent wave of fanaticism that had swept through the Land following the fall of Scree.

  What news they did have of the state came from those few Carastar mercenaries who had been given free rein to kill and rob along the Vanach border, effectively hemming in the population. The stories were likely to be inflated, but they described nonsensical laws punishable by death, mass mutilations and murder; the reality would be awful enough.

  ‘No, my twelve are already chosen. You’ll come north in our wake, however; your skills with mirror-magic might well be required and Endine’s needed with the army.’

  ‘Just twelve? Will you even get past the Carastars with so few?’

  Isak nodded. ‘There’ll be four Crystal Skulls among us, as well as a vampire and two Mortal-Aspects. However bad the reputation of the Carastars, they’re just mercenaries. Whoever gets in our way will regret it. It’s the competition we need to watch out for.’

  ‘Competition?’

  ‘Our enemy has also seen this information; it’s unlikely we’ll get a free run at it.’

  The mage frowned. ‘What are you looking for there?’

  Isak patted the man on the shoulder and headed for the door, snapping his fingers at Hulf as he went. ‘Think of the stupidest thing I could be hunting; one that could only bring ruin down on us all.’

  He didn’t wait for an answer.

  CHAPTER 9

  Lord Celao went to the balcony and looked out over Ismess, Southern quarter of the Circle City, as the last light of evening faded into nothingness. Three great white structures punctuated the view, even more startling at dusk as the dull mud-brick houses below merged with the shadows. To his right was the great snub-nosed obelisk that loomed tall from the centre of Ilit’s temple, the tallest structure in Ismess, flanked by the two long arched roofs that marked both halves of the temple proper.