As best Traax could tell, the warrior’s abdomen had literally exploded from the inside out. The image was grisly, unexpected. After dropping the armor back into place, he stood.
Traax turned to look up the mountainside. As always, the Tolenkas’ mysterious peaks disappeared into misty fog. From their deep crevasses, silvery glaciers beckoned.
The pass is up there, he thought. When we reach it, I suspect that what we find will be equally discouraging.
“Shall we examine the other five bodies, my lord?” one of the officers asked. Torn from his thoughts, Traax turned.
“Yes,” he ordered, “but I believe you will learn that they all died the same way.” He pointed to the dead warrior. “Notice how his armor bears no marks. The craft was at work here.”
“Xanthus?” the officer asked.
“Yes,” Traax answered. “Princess Shailiha was right. The Darkling entered Eutracia through the azure pass. He butchered this force on his way to the palace. Assuming he and theJin’Sai have not already come this way, they soon will. If we do not want to suffer the same fate as our dead brothers, we must be ready.”
Traax looked hard at the two officers. “Come to attention!” he ordered.
Stiffening, they quickly clicked their boot heels.
“Hear me well!” Traax said. “Make camp here. We will use the abandoned tents. Find a clean water supply. I suspect that glacial runoff from the mountains will be the safest. Take these dead bodies a good distance from the camp and cover them. Build the proper funeral pyres. I will take half our force to secure the pass. When I return, we will give our dead the funeral they deserve.”
The warriors again clicked their heels. “We live to serve!” they shouted in unison.
Walking back to the phalanx, Traax selected half of his warriors. Leading the twenty-five troops skyward, he turned to fly alongside the orb’s charred path.
Staying on track was more difficult this time, because the dark gouge blended well with the charred earth. Even from their height, the warriors could smell the scorched trees and brush. It smells like death, Traax thought. As he climbed higher he strained his eyes, trying to find the azure pass.
Suddenly he saw it. Twinkling icy blue, its shimmering face stretched high into the fog. The Tolenkas’ dark granite walls lay tight against its sides. Like they were begging to be released to the outside world, white light shards shot to and fro within its luminous depths. Again drawing their swords, the warriors warily landed about twenty paces downhill.
Motioning with his sword, Traax led his warriors closer. The heat was greater here, and warm cinders crunched beneath their boots. When they reached the five bodies, Traax let go an angry sigh. All the warriors lay dead.
Bending over, Traax unfastened the armor of one corpse and he looked at the warrior’s wounds. They were much like those the base camp victims had suffered. Standing, Traax sadly shook his head. After looking around he gathered his warriors.
“There is not enough material here to build suitable litters,” he said. “I want ten warriors to fly back to camp. Construct the litters there then return with them. After we have taken these fallen heroes back, we will cremate all our dead at once. Then we will take a well-deserved rest. Go now and hurry back.”
Ten warriors quickly took to the sky. Sheathing his dreggan, Traax watched them go.
Looking around, he spied another dreggan, its blade deeply embedded into a partly burned tree trunk. Walking over, he grabbed the sword’s hilt. With a mighty heave he yanked it free.
Traax held the blade to the sun. Like the other one he had examined, this blade was unstained. More than ever, he was convinced that these deaths had been Xanthus’ doing.
Beckoning his warriors to follow him, he walked to the pass. As they neared they were forced to narrow their eyes against the light. Standing before its majesty was nearly blinding, yet it gave off no heat.
His curiosity piqued, Traax gently inserted the dreggan blade into the shimmering azure wall. Like the pass was made of gossamer, the sword entered it effortlessly. From the wall’s opposite side, light shards danced to the metal blade like gathering Parthalonian fireflies. Retrieving the weapon, he again inspected it.
The shiny blade showed no sign of having violated the pass. He reached out to find the razor-sharp blade still cool to the touch. Perplexed, he shook his head. He looked over at his warriors.
“No one is to come closer than ten paces to this wall,” he ordered. “Is that understood?”
At once the warriors clicked their heels.
“You may rest,” he said.
Sheathing their swords, the grateful warriors started making themselves at home in their predecessors’ makeshift camp. They knew the litters would not be long in coming. His expression darkening, Traax looked back at the wall.
You were here, you bastard, he thought. My gut tells me so. You killed a dozen of my warriors then blithely went on to murder innocent Eutracians. Now you are on your way back and bringing the Jin’Saiwith you. I do not know how to stop you from taking Tristan into that azure void, but I must find a way. I believe all of our lives depend on it.
Turning back, he looked down the charred hillside and then to the ruby pin that Duvessa had secured to his armor. He couldn’t help but wonder if he would ever see her again. Gritting his teeth, he closed his eyes.
This was far from over.
CHAPTER XVI
AS HE WATCHED ENVELOPERS BY THE HUNDREDS UNDULATEtheir velvety sides, Reznik smiled. At first, traveling this way had seemed frightening.
He would have preferred sailing in comfort, aboard one of Serena’s war frigates. But the Citadel queen had ordered what remained of her fleet, manned by some of the consuls who had remained behind with her, to sail west and search for theJin’Sai ’s Black Ships.
At first she considered ordering the envelopers to perform the search, for they could range faster than her frigates. But Serena decided on her ships for the job, because her envelopers could not detect endowed blood. Most of her envelopers had stayed behind, guarding her island fortress from above.
As always, Reznik had been given no choice but to agree with his queen’s dictates. But as his confidence grew in the envelopers’ abilities, he soon enjoyed being carried through the sky.
Looking down, he watched the Sea of Whispers pass beneath him as its restless waves crashed against the Parthalonian coast. He hungrily breathed in the bracing sea air. Looking west, he saw that night would soon fall.
His group had been traveling north for eight hours, continually hugging the shoreline to avoid Necrophagian territory. This course also lessened the chances that they might meet theJin’Sai ’s fleet. Reznik’s impending experiments were paramount to the Heretics’ plans and had to be protected at all costs.
Reznik again regarded the hundreds of envelopers surrounding him. Despite their closeness, he could barely see them for their clever camouflage. Their backs were the color of the ever-shifting sea; their undersides perfectly mimicked the cloudy sky. Shaking his head, he marveled at them.
Many more enveloper pairs flew nearby. Between each pair stretched an azure net filled with supplies. Each net’s opposite sides were held fast to the envelopers’ backs by an especially clever spell. The elaborate spell calculations had been Einar’s handiwork, with Reznik consulting. Sitting on a net between another enveloper pair, Einar flew along beside him.
Reznik turned to look rearward. Dozens more camouflaged envelopers followed, each pair also connected by a net. More blue-robed consuls and Valrenkians sat in the nets, as did the various craft tools and treatises needed to conduct their experiments. Between another enveloper pair lay the consummately precious Scroll of the Vagaries. Reznik had cringed when he learned how it was to be transported. But as his fears for his personal safety subsided, so too did his concern for the scroll.
Waving an arm, Einar ordered a course change. Avoiding the port town of Everstill, the thousands of envelopers turned east. Soon they crosse
d the shoreline to go soaring over Parthalon proper. As green fields stretched beneath them, the envelopers’ backs quickly changed to mimic the new terrain.
Soon we will reach the great lake, Reznik thought. If things go as expected, Parthalon will be ours. The greedy partial adept could hardly wait. Grinning, he eagerly rubbed his hands together.
An hour later, Reznik could distinguish a huge lake lying in the distance. To his relief, he had seen no Parthalonians. That was welcome, because they wanted no alarms to go out. For the time being their mission was secret, but that would soon change.
Before the group departed, Serena and Einar had told him about the lake, and why it was so important. Even so, he was surprised by its massiveness. Its cold depths were said to be bottomless. As the envelopers descended, it came into better focus.
The lake’s waters were dark, and its shoreline highly irregular. A light breeze rippled its surface. Approaching from the west, Serena’s forces had also purposely avoided Trinity Downes, the town situated on the lake’s southern shore.
Waving a hand again, Einar ordered his envelopers to land at a spot on the western shore. No Parthalonians were about. As darkness fell in earnest, Einar, Reznik, and the handpicked consuls and Valrenkians jumped from their nets to the ground.
Einar pointed one hand toward the envelopers and relieved them of their nets and cargoes. In a flash they soared skyward. Their soft undersides quickly blended into the night, replete with perfectly simulated clouds and stars. Reznik looked back at Einar.
“It is time to bring them,” the consul said.
“How can you be sure that they have all gathered here, in one place?” Reznik asked.
“Queen Serena has made it so,” Einar answered. “Failee, First Mistress of the Coven of Sorceresses, was the one who first conjured these creatures. In her madness, she did so purely as an act of vengeance, in the event that her try to convert Princess Shailiha to be her fifth sorceress failed and caused her death. With her demise, these creatures would be unleashed in retribution upon the Parthalonians. The prince and Wigg defeated the Coven, killing the four sorceresses, and Failee’s spell was soon activated.” Pausing to gaze at the lake, Einar slipped his hands into opposite robe sleeves.
“With the beasts’ arrivals, pristine lakes suddenly sprang up all over Parthalon, to provide them refuge as they went about their grisly business,” he added. “The violent legacy Failee so painstakingly bequeathed to the world has been ravaging Parthalon ever since and fulfilling her warped sense of vengeance. The beasts’ numbers soon became so great that even the Minions occupying the newly rebuilt Recluse have been largely ineffective at controlling them. They breed so quickly that there are more than ever before. They survive by feeding off terrified citizens.”
“Why hasn’t theJin’Sai exterminated them?” Reznik asked. “To us, the people living here are little more than unendowed cattle. But Tristan’s misguided love of the Vigors forces him to care for them, does it not? Should he summon all of his forces here, even beasts in these numbers could not prevail.”
Einar smiled evilly. “That is true,” he answered. “But the prince and his wizards have been exceptionally busy of late-first with Nicholas, then Wulfgar, and now the Darkling. They have had little time for such lesser matters.” Smiling, Einar turned his attention to the crowd as a whole.
Happily, and in a louder tone, he announced, “As you will soon see, Failee’s hateful legacy is about to become our gain. Her creations are perfect for our plans.”
Scowling, Reznik bristled at not being told these things sooner. Serena had told him that, in the interests of security, Einar would inform him as events unfolded.
As the specially selected consuls and Valrenkians stood by, Einar lowered the hood of his robe. His expression was calm, bordering on smugness. Clearly, Einar was the only mystic Serena trusted with all the puzzle’s pieces, and he reveled in it. But the clever Valrenkian was starting to put those same pieces together for himself.
“It must be a powerful spell that can both collect the beasts and bind them to our wishes,” Reznik mused. “How did our queen come by it?”
Einar smiled in the darkness. The wind stirred, rippling the lake surface. A small portent of things to come? Reznik wondered.
“Can’t you guess?” Einar asked back.
Suddenly Reznik understood. He smiled. “I know that Failee possessed the Vagaries scroll during her exile here in Parthalon-at least for a while,” he answered. “The spells allowing the beasts’ creation and control over them must have come from it.”
“Precisely,” Einar answered. “Now the scroll is ours. Thanks to her ability to commune with the Heretics, Serena also possesses the scroll’s index, allowing her to choose the Vagaries Forestallments at will. As the Heretics revealed their plan to her, she realized that these creatures would be of great use to us. After indexing the scroll she invoked the needed formula. Her gifts have become so strong that she can activate spells over vast distances. At her command, all of Failee’s beasts have converged here. This lake is the only landlocked water body large enough to hide them all. Our queen’s timing is perfect. Because theJin’Sai travels with the Darkling, the Conclave is confused, and fearful for his existence. As a result, they will be slow to act.”
Einar smiled. “They have every right to fear for their preciousJin’Sai, ” Einar added. “The Darkling takes him to a place from where he might never return.”
“There are many things that you and the Citadel queen understand, but have yet to divulge,” Reznik pressed. “Why does the Darkling lead Tristan to the azure pass?”
Einar smiled again. “All in good time,” he said. “All you need know for now is that you and certain of your fellow Valrenkians are here because you possess skills and knowledge that we consuls do not-skills like those involving certain knowledge of the human form, and specialized herb and oil usage. Our early experiments together at the Citadel are proof of that. We are about to forge a new future, you and I. But first I must summon the beasts.”
Einar walked to the shoreline. The other adepts followed. Reaching the shore, Einar raised his arms and closed his eyes.
The lake waters started to churn. As Failee’s creations rose to the surface, the breath rushed from Reznik’s lungs. He had never seen such monsters. Had they not been firmly under Einar’s control, he would have been terrified.
The beasts obediently lumbered from the lake to stand in the magenta moonlight. Each was covered with black, velvety hair, much like that of Eutracian sea otters. Their backs were at least as high as the humans were tall. Their bodies were easily five meters long, and large around. Each of their four feet was scaly and reptilian, ending in sharp, webbed claws that looked especially suited for tearing.
They seemed to be some grotesque amalgam of creatures. Each head ended in a pointed nose, much like a rat’s. The large eyes scanned everything with an intense, seemingly intelligent hatred. An unusually wide, thin mouth lay just below the nose; ratlike ears sat on either side of the heads. The tails were barbed all along their lengths and ended in points, much like arrowheads. Despite the presence of gills they breathed the night air normally, leading Reznik to guess that they also possessed lungs, and could survive either on land or underwater for as long as they liked.
Soon thousands of them had lumbered ashore. As they stood in the cold night air, steam rolled off their coats. Angry at having been disturbed, many hissed and snarled. Reznik saw row after row of razor-sharp teeth glint in the moonlight.
Satisfied, Einar turned to look at the other mystics. “I give you Failee’s swamp shrews,” he said simply. “Every one of them ready and willing to do our bidding.”
As the beasts snarled and glared, Reznik smiled. “They seem hungry,” he said.
Einar nodded. “No doubt,” he answered. “They need to be fed. I know just the place.”
Closing his eyes, Serena’s lead consul sent a mental order to the circling envelopers. In moments they all landed
. Reznik reconnected the nets to their backs; the cargo was quickly reloaded, and the adepts again took their places. Einar looked at the shrews.
“Follow us,” he ordered. “We must reach our next destination before dawn. There you may feed to your hearts’ content.”
The enveloper pairs lifted into the sky. Using hand signals, Einar ordered them to fly low, so that the shrews could better follow the glowing nets. With the envelopers flying in circles so as not to lose them, the shrew legions lumbered along behind.
Serena’s ominous forces turned northward.
CHAPTER XVII
“IT’S TRUE,” WIGG SAID. SHAKING HIS HEAD WITH WONDER, he looked around the table. “The eight girls who practically barged their way into the palace last night are indeed Fledgling House survivors,” he added. “I had given them up for dead.”
Wigg sat back in his chair and looked thoughtfully at Sister Adrian. “It seems your burdens just increased,” he said. “Not only will you continue to teach your selected acolytes to empower the Black Ships, you must also oversee the continued training of both the girls and the boys. You are about to become an even busier woman.”
Pausing for a moment, Wigg rummaged through a pile of parchments lying before him. He found the one he wanted, and skimmed the page.
“Ah, yes,” he said. “Here she is-Mallory of the House of Esterbrook. She is the oldest among them. She also seems to be the group’s leader. I suspect that her training will finish soon. The others’ passages into sisterhood will take longer. In any event, they are your responsibility, Adrian. With all the consuls turned to the Vagaries, these young girls and their male counterparts represent the Vigors’ future. Train them all well.”
Adrian positively beamed. Having these Fledglings safely ensconced in the Redoubt with the boys meant that the acolyte and consular orders would survive long after she and her contemporaries had perished. She considered it a dream come true.
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