by JD Franx
Giddeon shook his head and winced, Ember could see the stress and weight of future decisions weighed heavily on him. “I’ll grant you both that much, but regardless, something beyond our current understanding is taking place, and a mistake now could have lasting consequences. Think on that, all of you.”
Utter silence ruled the small clearing with an iron fist and would permit no one to offer so much as a thought out loud. Kasik and Max returned with a pig-sized keske. The goat-like creature was slung over Max’s shoulder. They both stopped the instant they saw the look on everyone’s faces.
“What the hell now?” Max complained.
“It’s not that,” Saleece interrupted, as she handed him the letter from Zaddyk.
Shaking his head, he gave it to Kasik. “I can speak it because it’s the same as our English, but you know I can’t read it. Your written words are different,” he said, referring to the common tongue. Kasik read the letter out loud for him, and the words were somehow even more dire the second time.
“What the hell are we going to to do about that?” Max asked, nearly shouting as he dropped the keske and tossed a length of rope over a tree limb as a prelude to dressing the goat. “You think maybe you jumped the gun a bit on the kill the DeathWizard band wagon?”
“What in the Nine Hells did you just ask me?” Giddeon barked, clearly confused. “You make no sense at all. Gun, band wagon? From what you explained about guns, how do you jump one, and what is a band wagon?” he asked, of phrases from a world so very different from where they were.
“Never mind. It would take too long to explain and you wouldn’t get it anyway. Besides, you know what I mean. You could have told Kael a couple times that you were here to help him, or that Ember and I are alive. Perhaps with him here, we could find some answers, but you didn’t talk to him. You understand that?” Max said, the last three words dripped with disgust.
Already riled up from the tone of Max’s voice, Giddeon leapt at the chance for an argument. “Just because we have a bit more information does not mean I have completely changed my mind. It only means that I will not act against Kael until I talk to him, or until I know more about what is going on. We have to start agreeing on these matters. This is your world now too, and from what Zaddyk has seen, it might well get very bad here. We may encounter the things he saw, regardless of what happens to Kael. Sometimes the future is difficult to avoid. We know that all too well. We have been trying to avoid this very situation for more than twenty years. What we desperately tried to stop, what good people have given their lives to stop, has still come to pass. Kael is here, and he is a threat, but I’m starting to understand that acting without knowing all the facts is a mistake. Does that make sense to you?”
Max nodded. “Yes, Giddeon, it does. It’s the first thing you’ve said in a long time that does make sense,” he said, and plunged his dagger into the goat. He remained quiet as he prepped their supper for the cook fire. It helped quell the group argument.
Everyone agreed with what Giddeon had said, and for the first time in many months, they all enjoyed the fresh meat off the roasted keske that Max shot with his bow. As they ate, Kasik told the tale of how Max had shot the goat before the Northman had even seen it. Finishing the meal, they all got ready for the cold night ahead. With six of them, and in an area where more dangers were common, they took double watches. Ember and Yrlissa agreed to take the first, Saleece and Kasik volunteered for the second, while Max and Giddeon agreed to keep the last watch until dawn—the span of night when attack was most likely.
Ember and Yrlissa sat by the fire before going a little farther from the camp to keep watch. The rest were already sleeping.
“Yrlissa?”
“Yes, nahlla?”
“Giddeon said Kael was on his way to... to... Kazza...”
“Kazzadar Mountain, yes. It’s north of here, one of the highest peaks in this mountain range,” Yrlissa answered.
“Why would Kael go there?” she asked.
Yrlissa flinched, Ember ignored it and stared into the fire.
“I do not know why he would go there, nahlla,” the assassin said. “Giddeon said he was going there to kill someone.”
“That doesn’t sound like Kael,” Ember said, a little testy.
“If he is after the ones who tortured him for months and believes you have passed on, then maybe he goes there to kill them, or just to die. I do not know, mai nahlla. I am sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize. I should know better,” Ember whispered sadly.
“I know you miss him, but stay strong. It won’t be long now,” Yrlissa smiled, as she took Ember’s hand and gave it a squeeze. Ember slid her travel pack to her feet and opened the flap, removing the charcoal rubbings from Stillwater.
“Lissa?”
“Yes, Ember.”
“All your years and travels... You’re sure you’ve never seen this language,” she said. Opening the rubbing and laying it across her knees, Ember grabbed the other two charcoal transfers and did the same.
“I don’t know it. You must remember that the Ancients were a race of several different beings and they ruled for many millennia. Languages change.”
“That’s true, but look here,” Ember said, pointing to a line on each rubbing. “This word that Giddeon says means bug-like? It’s pronounced ‘dosa’. But I think it’s a noun, not an adjective.” Yrlissa stared at the strange word and Ember could see old memories haunting her.
“You may be right, nahlla.”
“You really think so?” Ember asked, getting a nod. “I think the word means ‘pest’, not bug-like. I don’t think they’re talking about demons at all, Yrlissa, I think they’re talking about a race they consider lower beings than them.”
“Perhaps. Keep studying. You’ll find the evidence within the writings to prove it if you’re right,” Yrlissa suggested. Ember smiled and turned back to the rubbings. Still not interested in leaving the warmth of the fire, she looked up and asked another question.
“What’s up past the mountains? Max and I know nothing of these lands.”
“The Orotaq and the Black Hollow Peninsula are north of here. The Black Kasym is as far north as one can go. That is about all. Beyond the Kasym should be the old lands of the Ancients, if the lands survived the Cataclysm and still exist. No one knows for sure. Even as far as I know, no one has ever been beyond the Kasym since it formed.”
“Where are those lands from here? Where is Orotaq from where we are right now?” she asked curiously.
“The Orotaq are not a land, nahlla. They are a race of Humanoid beings. Very large and very strong. They are nearly immune to most magic. You can’t miss them, they have faint blue skin and are very dangerous to... Well, everything. They live in the swamps of Black Hollow north-west of those mountains out there.” Yrlissa pointed to the north, over her left shoulder. “The swamps produce a heavy blue gas. It’s poison to the Elvehn, Humans, and even the DragonKin. Most scholars believe this gas is what makes the Orotaq resistant to magic and tints their skin a faint blue. All you really need to know about them is that they eat anything smaller than they are, including us.”
“Lovely. This place doesn’t get any better does it?”
“You’ve seen the beauty here. These mountains are scarcely populated for a reason. Since the Cataclysm, some of Talohna’s more rare species have migrated here, especially creatures.”
“Well, hopefully we don’t run into these Orotaq then. What about the Black Kasym? What is it? I’ve seen it on Giddeon’s maps. It’s huge.”
Shaking her head, Yrlissa said, “You really don’t want to leave this fire do you?”
Ember laughed. Refolding the charcoal transfers, she put them back in her travel pack. “No. It’s warm here.”
“All right. I can sense no danger for at least a mile. We’ll be safe for a while yet. Now, the Black Kasym... The Black Kasym is a deep tear in the earth between this kingdom,” Yrlissa said, raising her hands and turning them in
all directions, “and the kingdom the Ancients used to live in. Jasala Vyshaan’s dying magic created the Kasym somehow. It is a dark and very wide canyon that reaches far into the Deep Earth. No one knows why her death caused the Cataclysm or the devastation that created it, but the Ancient Kingdom has been cut off from the rest of Talohna since that time.”
“Is there no other way to get there?” Ember asked, suddenly interested.
“No, the ocean passage is impossible to navigate. There are jagged spines of rock and ice hidden just below the water line. The northern most part of the WhiteWyrm Ocean and Orotaq Bay have been called Agaeus’ Claws for thousands of years. As far as I know, no one has returned after trying to enter the Ancient Kingdom by using the ocean. The ruins of hundreds of ships can be seen in the northern waters of Orotaq Bay, and those I have seen. There are also a few people, mostly the Elvehn, who believe the Dyrranai Forest is in the Ancient Kingdom, so I tried to get there. Two of my fellow Blades and I failed and then spent almost a month running from Orotaq hunters and their dogs,” Yrlissa explained with a mischievous wink, as Ember listened closely to every word.
“Creepy, very creepy. I remember hearing about Jasala. Giddeon said she was the DeathWizard who tried to take over the world, and all the countries went to war against her. Finally, three heroes killed her.”
A dark mood settled over Yrlissa’s features, it was unlike anything Ember had ever seen from her friend. “I know what Giddeon says. I also know what he says about Kael. Remember that, whenever he references their kind, for all our sakes. Sometimes things may not be as they appear,” she said absently, as if her thoughts were many miles and many years away.
“You really don’t believe that the Kai’Sar are evil do you, Lissa?” Ember asked once more, hoping for more answers.
“Council wizards and nobles use that term. For no other reason than to make themselves look intelligent by using the Ancient’s dead language. I doubt they even have the translation right.”
Ember scoffed. “You don’t have to convince me. I’m positive that Giddeon’s translations are missing an inflection on one of his prepositions. There’s a big difference between the words ‘from’ and ‘with’.”
Yrlissa frowned. “How so?”
“Think about it for a minute. In English... sorry, the common tongue. To ‘travel with’ or ‘to travel from’. Combined that with an adjective actually being a noun and Giddeon’s translations could be a mile off. Every translation could.”
“The bug-like word we discussed earlier?” Ember nodded but said nothing. “You’re probably right. The Fae spoke every language ever used. If anyone will figure it out, it will be you. And to answer your question, no. I don’t believe Kael’s kind are evil, but they are susceptible to some kind of corruption. That part of their history is true, I’ve read some of the journals from long ago. I also know that some of them fought hard against that corruption. Now come, let us do our watch, so we can rest.”
The night passed uneventfully and the six rode at dawn, headed towards Cairnwood, the only small centre of civilization left before entering the upper reaches of the Dwarven Mountain Range.
NATALIA’S REST
ARGELA, ELLORYA
“What the feck kinda spook you supposed to be?” Eamon said, as Dominique’s group approached the private booth of the stranger Cormack met when they arrived.
“My name is Sythrnax, Mr. O’Leary. Please have a seat. I took the leisure of ordering the best bottle of Northman whiskey the house had.” Eamon slid into the booth on the opposite of Sythrnax without hesitating.
“Trust me, Mr. Spook, the pleasure’ll be all mine.” Grabbing the tall-neck bottle, Eamon pulled the cork and tilted the bottle back.
“Easy,” Cormack said, jumping forward in a futile attempt to warn the old man. “Northman whiskey can knock out a giant.”
Lowering the bottle with almost a quarter of it gone, Eamon belched. “Mighty piss-poor giants ya got here then, boyo, but the swill be good.” The words were barely out of his mouth before the bottle went back in.
“You’ll have to pardon our associate,” Cormack said, offering his hand in greeting to Sythrnax. The stranger ignored him.
“Every man’s allowed a drink when he’s been hiding out for twenty years. He’s fine.”
“Cormack tells me you might want to book passage on the Reave?” Dominique said, skipping any small talk.
“I do, Captain.”
“Just yourself or others? And to where?” Dominique asked, clearly not in the mood for talk.
“That’s a difficult question to answer, Captain. I wish for you to take me to the Cauldron’s Teeth. First. I have a quick pick up to make there. After that, if you would be gracious enough, I would like to sail to FlatWater Bay, beyond Dasal, in the Free Lands. Once we arrive, I would be willing to lease you the hidden docks under Tazammor Mountain. For the retrofits Mr. O’Leary has planned. Everything you need is there. You merely must hire the men you require.” Dominique glared across the table at Eamon, but was too far away to do anything.
“Big-mouth,” Shasta snapped, smacking Eamon in the back of the head, making him choke on the half-empty bottle of whiskey.
“Manky wenchling sprat!” he spat. “I ain’t say nothing. You think I want every Tom’s Harry Dick hunting me for my bang? Use your head, woman-to-be. Spook here can probably read your empty minds.” Without another word, he returned to his bottle, eyeing Shasta every few sips, as if watching for another smack that might spill his whiskey.
Sythrnax lifted his right hand. “Mr. O’Leary told me nothing, I assure you. But it’s not a stretch to understand why he’s with you. Just consider it. If ever you need a hidden, secure dock with everything you will ever need—including Dwarven forges—the offer stands, but the offer is good only for you Captain.”
“Dwarven forges, ya say?” Eamon asked, perking up. Even though the bottle was three quarters gone, his words were as clear as a ringing bell.
“Yes. There are three of them, all dockside, all vented. There is also a large furnace for melting and mixing metals or for making sand casts. I can have whatever source heat you prefer ready.”
“Sounds perfect, pirate,” Eamon said, staring at Dominique. “Three forges will shorten the retrofit time. By a lot. Two months to be done, maybe less, depending how many ships we do and their sizes. The Reave and her sister ships will be floating fortresses of destruction.”
“There are five Reaver ships docked in and around Lover’s Bay. Six, counting the Reave,” Shasta reminded Dominique as she leaned in closer.
Ignoring both men and Shasta, Dominique frowned. “All Reaver ships leave on the morrow’s early tide. Shasta, get us clearance, Cormack can help with the less than twenty-four-hour notice. As for you,” he said, staring at Sythrnax. “Be aboard the Twilight Reave an hour before sun-up or you don’t board. You will clear customs on your own. My crew and ships are presently clear of wants and warrants, and I don’t need your past or current problems fucking that up. Agreed?”
“Absolutely, Captain. We have a deal,” Sythrnax said, his smile tugging at the sides of his mask.
Chapter Thirty
“The Eyes of the Wing. This spell has many names. Soul suppression, the living dead, and even mind control, though that is quite inaccurate. It is magic only the strongest necromancers can use. It is outlawed everywhere in Talohna except for the country I live in—DormaSai. It is illegal for a good reason. A powerful-enough necromancer can use the spell in order to suppress a Human or Elvehn soul and take over another person’s body. King Azmerack has used this magic to take control of the Cethosian Queen. It is the first attack of the necromancer rebellions that are sweeping across Talohna. My mentor, the only mother we ever knew, would want us to fight this madman, and so we will. This necromancer rebellion will be stopped by rebels within its own ranks, and by those who follow us and fight from the outside.”
Nekrosa Kohl, Necromancer and general
of the Dorma
Sain resistance, 5007 PC
LOWER DWARVEN MOUNTAIN RANGE
Nekrosa and Sephi ordered Luthian to watch Giddeon’s group closely, and by doing so, managed to stay a couple hours behind them, as they followed the group into the mountains. All three necromancers had Eyes of the Wing spells active inside Giddeon and Ember’s camp when Saleece read the letter out loud and during the conversation between Ember and Yrlissa. Nekrosa was not alarmed by news they were already well aware of. It was why they were in the Blood Kingdoms. As for what the two young women said, it merely confirmed what he already suspected. If given an opportunity, they planned to grab the three they needed and then high tail it home to the Southern Kingdoms.
Nekrosa knew what was coming, but he had no ideas on how to stop it. DormaSai had been collecting magical artifacts and documents as well as written history and personal accounts since before Jasala had torn the lands asunder with her death spell. He did not know everything, but he knew a lot more than the ArchWizard ahead of them did. Nekrosa couldn’t tell Giddeon though, because the fool would try to kill anyone who had tapped the Void’s power the moment he sensed it, not to mention what he would do to someone like Nekrosa.
It no longer mattered to him whether Giddeon knew anything though. Nekrosa had tried to send an emissary to Giddeon just before the DeathWizard had been returned to this world. Though he was not positive, Nekrosa strongly suspected the emissary—his younger brother, Tallin—was now dead, executed by King Bale. Tallin had not been a necromancer, but bringing advice and knowledge from one had likely cost him his life. At the time, Nekrosa had been unaware of the extent of Cethos’ hatred for necromancers; after all, the country was a long way from DormaSai, and they had helped overthrow King Azmerack during the rebellions.
He sent his brother to Corynth with the information because Tallin was not gifted at all. Nekrosa had received his brother’s arrival letter, just like they had agreed, but there had been nothing further, and neither Luthian or Dekayna could find out what happened to him after he stepped foot inside the Cascade Citadel in Corynth. Considering he was nearly the equal fighter to Sephi, Nekrosa was sure his brother had died at the hands of Giddeon or Joran Bale.
