Lifting her gown, Serena strode through the petals to stand by the altar. Out of respect for her daughter and the man who had fathered her, she completed this sacred pilgrimage twice each day. The Vagaries queen looked down at the dead body and lovingly touched the child’s cold face, just as she did each time she visited here.
Just then she sensed the Heretics touch her mind. She smiled, for she knew why they called to her. During their previous communion, they had promised to let her watch the slaughter. Eager to be informed, she went to her knees and closed her eyes.
“I am here,”she said silently.
“Your servants have reached their next destination,”the many voices said at once.“As we reveal the scene to your mind, joyously behold the Vagaries’ power.”
Unmoving and her eyes still closed, Serena gasped aloud as the vision revealed itself. It soon became so clear that she found it difficult to believe she wasn’t part of it all.
It was morning in Parthalon, and the sun’s rays were coming up over the eastern horizon. Einar and Reznik lay on their stomachs in the dewy grass atop a hill. They were looking down on the Ghetto of the Shunned-the same city that for more than three hundred years had imprisoned all those deemed undesirable by the late Coven of Sorceresses.
The Ghetto’s walls stood tall and dark. Its drawbridge was raised. A dank moat encircled the city. By theJin’Sai ’s order, the Coven’s flags had all been removed. From their places atop the hill, Serena’s mystics could see movement on the guard paths lining the barbican.
With the Ghetto firmly in Conclave hands, Tristan had ordered all the long-suffering prisoners freed save for those infected with leprosy. The disease had been conjured by the sorceresses three centuries ago, in their bid to subjugate the nation. Once the sorceresses’ goal had been met, the diseased and anyone else deemed a threat to the Coven’s rule had been relegated there, to linger until death. TheJin’Sai ’s Minions were the perfect Ghetto overseers, for in her manic attention to detail Failee had granted them immunity to the disease. Ten thousand battle-hardened warriors lived there, helping to administer the city and protect its dying inhabitants.
Reznik looked behind him. A short way down the hill’s opposite slope, swamp shrews and envelopers by the thousands waited silently. Their backs mimicking the ground, the envelopers were hardly visible. The Valrenkians and consuls also waited nearby. Their tools, books, and the consummately precious Scroll of the Vagaries lay farther down the hill.
Although the air was cool, Reznik sweated nervously. He had never been associated with so vast an undertaking. He looked anxiously at Einar.
“I tell you again that the Minions will see us!” he whispered. “They might not detect us from the catwalks, but a flying patrol is bound to go overhead sooner or later! We must act!”
Einar smiled confidently. “Take heart,” he whispered back. “We will not be seen, I promise you.”
Turning, the consul looked down the hill. Raising one hand, he gathered the envelopers’ attention.
“Protect!” he whispered simply.
Einar watched in awe as some envelopers quickly obeyed. Their moving shapes little more than slightly noticeable shimmers, they grouped together to form a tight, circular wall around the shrews, consuls, and Valrenkians. As the wall grew, more envelopers took to the air, forming a dome over their allies. Soon the wondrous construct was completed, causing partial darkness inside.
Looking down its length, Reznik could barely see the others waiting here with him. The incredible hiding place stretched for nearly half a league and looked to be about ten meters high. Suddenly understanding, he smiled at Einar.
“The envelopers’ backs will mimic the terrain surrounding us,” he said. “To anyone happening by, our entire force will be unnoticeable! How marvelous!”
“Exactly so,” Einar answered. Standing, he brushed the grass from his robe. “It is time to give the order.”
Einar walked to the cone’s leading edge. At his command, two of the envelopers forming the cone separated slightly. Einar looked out between them to see another hovering nearby, awaiting its orders. Camouflaged as it was, Einar could barely see it.
“Go!” he whispered. “When we see your signal, others will follow! Remember-not one leper is to be harmed! You will know them by their yellow robes!”
Smoothly undulating its velvety body, the enveloper took to the air. Thousands more followed. As they headed for the Ghetto, Einar and Reznik watched as best they could from their perfectly camouflaged blind.
Still on her knees and her eyes closed, Serena smiled. Perfect, she thought.
“I BEG THE AFTERLIFE, THAT’S NO WAY TO THROW AN AXE!”Yakov shouted angrily. It always perplexed him whenever his junior officers didn’t perform to his high standards.
“It’s a good thing for you that ourJin’Sai wasn’t here to see such a pathetic effort!” he added.
Stomping to the target, with a great heave he yanked the axe free from the tree trunk. The other officer’s throw had gone high, missing by a good foot the red circle Yakov had painted on the trunk. Mumbling to himself, he walked back to where the others were standing.
There were six more Minion officers in attendance. These seven formed the usual nighttime drawbridge detail. Another complement of warriors had just relieved them. Whenever the bridge was raised, drawbridge duty became notoriously boring. Even those manning the catwalks above had stopped to gleefully watch the throwing and drinking contest.
Yakov’s group was glad to be off duty. During the previous night’s boredom, good-natured challenges had been raised, and from those challenges bets quickly arose. Added to this had come Yakov’s boast that he could not only outthrow every man in his squad, but that he could easily outdrink him, as well-and do both at the same time. During the night, his boasting had attracted many takers.
Walking back with the axe, Yakov reached down to grab an akulee jug. He hoisted it on his forearm and took a long swig. A wet belch erupted, followed by raucous laughter. He placed the jug at his feet and sloppily wiped his mouth and beard with the back of one hand. Turning to look at his younger charges, he smiled greedily. He could already imagine the kisa that he would win today.
Wavering back and forth from drinking so much akulee, Yakov looked at the target. He narrowed his eyes. Swinging the axe over his head, with a deep grunt he let it go.
Its blade a blur, the axe twinkled briefly in the morning sun, then cleaved the center of the target. Cheers erupted. Proudly holding out his hand, Yakov collected several kisa from each of the other officers. As he went to collect the axe, the others start grumbling about their losses.
Suddenly they heard Yakov scream. Turning to look, they saw that he had somehow vanished. They quickly unsheathed their dreggans, but could find no threat. Then they saw Yakov’s boots hauntingly standing alone near the base of the tree.
Another muffled, bloodcurdling scream arose. Somehow appearing out of thin air, the coins Yakov had just won went clinking to the ground around his boots. Then his body armor and weapons also fell from thin air. Finally his polished bones collapsed noisily onto the pile. Then total pandemonium rained down on the unsuspecting city.
Thousands more envelopers, their bodies camouflaged from both above and below, sailed over the walls and through the streets. Ignoring the yellow-robed lepers, they attacked every Minion warrior they could find. Smashing their way through windows and doors, they mercilessly ransacked every building.
The bewildered warriors never stood a chance. From all over the city, they cursed and struck out against an enemy they couldn’t see. Muffled screams filled the air as one by one the enveloped warriors disappeared.
As they started to understand their plight, some Minions started blindly swinging their blades through the air in hope of randomly cutting down their invisible foes. In a few cases they succeeded, and the envelopers lost their camouflage to go crashing hard to the earth. But the warriors were succumbing in droves, and literally dissolving as t
hey died.
Yellow-robed lepers tore hysterically through the streets while others took shelter in the buildings. Minion blood became so prevalent that it started painting the dirt and running down the gutters. Fires broke out as the envelopers tipped over oil lamps in their relentless search for prey.
Two specially selected envelopers soared toward the inner wall securing the drawbridge, found the chains holding the drawbridge in place, and wrapped their camouflaged bodies around them. In moments, several chain links dissolved on each side.
With a heaving groan the heavy wooden drawbridge came crashing down, spanning the dank moat. Wooden shards and metal pieces went flying into the air. With its main entryway breached, the city’s fate was sealed.
From his hiding place atop the hill, Einar smiled. The falling drawbridge was the signal he had been waiting for.
“Go!” he called out to his remaining envelopers.
At once the protective cone dismantled, and its freed envelopers started soaring toward the beleaguered city. Turning to look down the hill’s backside, Einar smiled at his eagerly waiting swamp shrews.
“Attack!” he shouted joyously. “But remember-the lepers are not to be touched!”
Not to be outdone, the snarling shrew herds rumbled down the hill. Thundering across the damaged drawbridge, they greedily tore into whatever warriors remained standing.
Cautiously biding his time, Einar smiled as he listened to the screams. After another hour or so, the city quieted. Smoke drifted ominously over the city walls. Then a few dozen envelopers obediently soared back to their master. Rippling their sides, they landed gently on the dewy grass.
Wasting no time, Einar quickly reconjured the glowing nets. The Valrenkians and consuls loaded their cargoes and took their places. Einar and Reznik joined them. Soon they were all flying toward the smoking city. Using hand signals, Einar ordered the envelopers to soar over the barbican. Reznik was no stranger to the suffering of others. But the scene below him made his skin crawl.
Minion bones, armor, boots, and weapons lay everywhere. Many building entrances and windows were smashed in because of the envelopers’ relentless pursuits. Drying blood lay pooled in the streets, alleys, and gutters. Fires raged, and thick smoke blackened the sky.
In many places, warriors’ internal organs and limbs lay strewn about, starkly exemplifying the shrews’ brutal hunger. Unable to believe that their protectors had been vanquished, traumatized lepers wandered about aimlessly. Leper parents separated from their children called out frantically, trying to find their missing offspring.
Hearing a sharp scream, Einar turned to see a ravenous shrew shaking a Minion back and forth like a rag doll. With a sharp cracking sound, the shrew’s jaws savagely closed, breaking its victim’s back. It dropped the dead warrior to the dirt, ripped open the warrior’s body, and started devouring the Minion’s organs.
Looking skyward, Einar called the craft to augment his sight. Even so, he could barely see his envelopers. On the ground, ravenous shrew herds thundered through the streets. Both species were scouring the city for stragglers. Einar knew that whenever one was found, the warrior would be dealt with quickly. Signaling again with his hands, Einar ordered his envelopers down.
Landing in the inner ward, Einar jumped from his net, then looked around. He couldn’t have been more pleased. He turned to look at his Valrenkians and consuls.
“Call on the craft to get those fires under control!” he ordered. “We still need the buildings to temporarily house the lepers. Once you are sure that no warriors remain alive, start taking a detailed census. Before I leave here, I must have an exact count! And repair that drawbridge! Soon all of Parthalon will know we’ve arrived!”
As the screaming quieted, Einar’s servants quickly went about their duties.
Just then Einar and Reznik heard a woman crying. Soft and low, the sound came from somewhere nearby. Curious, they walked across the street to an abandoned storefront.
Shoving aside the smashed door, they walked in. A leper woman sat huddled in one corner. A young girl was there with her. Their yellow robes had been charred and torn during the frenzy.
Beckoning Reznik to follow him, Einar walked closer. As the two mystics neared, the mother and child cowered farther into a dirty corner.
“Do not be frightened, my child,” Einar said. “Please stand. Let me look at you.”
The woman stood on trembling legs. Her terrified eyes looked into his.
Einar guessed her to be about twenty-five Seasons of New Life. But given her advanced condition, he knew he could easily be wrong. She was little more than skin, bones, and raging sores. Her daughter seemed equally ill. Placing his hands into opposite robe sleeves, he looked over at Reznik.
“How long, do you guess?” he asked. “Your talents in these matters supersede mine.”
Reznik looked deeply into the mother’s eyes, then examined the poor quality of her hair and nails. He thought to himself for several moments.
“She has two moons, at best,” he answered. “The child will last a bit longer.”
Reaching out, Einar touched the woman’s ravaged face. He smiled. “Do not despair, my child,” he said. “Although you will soon perish, your deaths will serve a greater good. You see, your kind is exactly what we need.”
Leaving the mother and child behind, the two mystics walked outside. The fires were coming under control, and the shrews and envelopers were returning to the square. Knowing that the Ghetto could never accommodate all his servants, Einar ordered them to leave and guard the perimeter. The envelopers obediently soared over the walls, and the bloodied shrews lumbered back across the partly destroyed drawbridge.
Einar had meant what he said-soon all of Parthalon would know of the attack on the Ghetto. Those warriors still alive on this side of the Sea of Whispers would be sure to respond. They too would have to be dealt with, long before the Conclave heard about what was happening.
The first part of the plan had succeeded brilliantly. But to ensure success, the next phase would have to go equally well. As soon as he had his leper count, Einar would take the next step.
Smiling at Reznik, he beckoned him over to where the frightened lepers were being gathered. As morning drifted into midday, the two mystics started helping with the census.
SMILING, SERENA OPENED HER EYES AND RAISED HER HEAD. She stood and looked down at her daughter’s endowed corpse.
After touching Clarice’s face once more, she turned and left the crypt.
CHAPTER XX
AS HE HEADED TOWARD FAEGAN’S LABORATORY, THEFirst Wizard was highly preoccupied. Mallory’s revelations about the debtors’ prison had infuriated him. The more he thought about it, the angrier he became. As he stomped down the Redoubt halls his robe went flying, and the others had to hurry to keep up. Only the Afterlife knew how many other Eutracians the corrupt jailor had abused. Wigg was eager to set things right.
Shailiha, Abbey, Adrian, Mallory, and Jessamay followed him. As they went, they briefly pointed out various Redoubt areas to the young Fledgling. Still stunned by her surroundings, Mallory looked at everything with wide eyes.
Wigg finally stopped before a large oaken door. Whooping laughter came from the other side. Scowling, he shook his head, then turned to look at the women.
“There’s no telling what he’s up to in there,” he said. “Prepare yourselves.”
Opening the heavy door, Wigg ushered the women into the room.
Faegan sat in the new wheeled chair the Minions had made for him. Cackling joyously, he sailed about the laboratory. He seemed so pleased with himself that he hardly noticed his visitors. Laughing gleefully, he finally stopped to hover before the First Wizard.
The group regarded Faegan narrowly. For her part, Mallory had never seen anyone remotely like him. A delighted look overcame her face. Scowling, Wigg crossed his arms over his chest.
“Is this some gift your newfound Forestallment has granted you?” he asked. “Soaring around rooms fast
er than ever?”
Normally the crippled wizard would have shot back a sly retort. But this time he just laughed again, then gleefully started spinning his chair in circles.
“No, you old fool!” he shouted as he went round and round. “My miraculous Forestallment is far more than that! From this day forward, our world is forever changed!”
“What are you babbling about?” Jessamay demanded. “Stop that spinning and explain yourself this instant!”
Shaking her head, the sorceress looked over at Abbey and Adrian. “Are you sure that your concoction hasn’t finally put him around the bend?” she asked under her breath. Wondering the same thing, all the partial adept and First Sister could do was look back sheepishly.
Faegan finally stopped spinning. He grinned at Jessamay. “Do not worry, good woman!” he said. “Aside from a few burns, I’m right as rain!” As Faegan lowered his chair to the floor, Mallory looked around.
The Fledgling House facilities had been meager compared to Faegan’s. The laboratory was spacious. Many tables stood about, each littered with beakers, bottles, texts, and scrolls. More bottles holding dried herbs and precious oils could be seen locked behind glass in specially constructed cabinets. In one corner, a brass blood signature scope and criterion sat atop a wooden stand. A hearth lay along one wall, its fire burning merrily.
Looking farther, Mallory saw huge parchments filled with detailed scribbling hanging on the walls. A framed reference chart displaying the craft’s many esoteric symbols lay on a nearby easel. The room’s entire rear wall was taken up by a strange black panel. It was literally covered with Old Eutracian, the glowing, azure script shining brightly against its background. Oil chandeliers provided welcoming light.
Then Mallory’s eyes fell on what she guessed was the Scroll of the Vigors. Its beauty took her breath away.
The massive, unrolled document hovered in the air. One end was secured to a solid-gold rod. Snaking its way around the room, the fragile vellum appeared to be one meter high by about twenty meters long. Sadly, parts seemed burned away. Both sides were covered with Old Eutracian craft formulas. They were the most detailed ones Mallory had ever seen.
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