Plague of Shadows

by Howard Andrew Jones

  "By the holy key!" The cleric said, and Renar let out a wordless cry of amazement.

  There was a dark cavity between the stones. Elyana picked out the hideous old statue in the gloom, and tipped it forward so that it would fit through the opening. Nothing more was hidden within the space.

  "Sacred Abadar," Lenelle said, the words almost rasping from her lips. "You found it!" Tears of gratitude welled up from her eyes, and she raised her hands in heartfelt prayer.

  Then Elyana lifted the statue and hurled it into the flagstones.

  Lenelle was already screaming before the statue shattered into hundreds of pieces. She hurled herself at Elyana, hands balled into fists, only to find herself held at arm's length by a confused Drelm, who'd swiftly interposed himself.

  "She's killed him, you fool!" Lenelle shrieked. "The statue was all that was keeping Stelan alive!"

  Elyana had lifted something from amongst the debris upon the floor: a tightly rolled parchment. At the sight of it, Lenelle fell silent. Drelm, glancing back at Elyana, grunted doubtfully.

  "What is it?" Renar asked.

  "This," Elyana said, "is what Arcil wants." She passed him the letter she had just read, but retained the scroll. "Stelan asked me to destroy the statue and burn the scroll."

  "No!" Lenelle cried.

  "The letter is a last request," Elyana continued reasonably, "but I'm not sure a last request need be followed while the person who made it remains alive." That was the kind of reasoning that Arcil might have used, and her frown deepened at the thought.

  She unrolled the scroll.

  The parchment was aged but stiff, crafted of fine vellum. Contained as it had been within the statue, sealed from the elements, it was well preserved.

  Here was no scroll with spells, but a detailed, topographically marked map of southwest Galt and southern Kyonin, the kingdom of the elves, and the long, fanged run of the Five Kings Mountains. Someone with spidery handwriting had ornamented it with occasional phrases in Azlanti, showing a route through the peaks to a location marked as the Vale of Shadows. Inset upon the map's lower third was a primitive sketch of a tower, with the cramped annotation: "Star Tower—Twilight Crown." Elyana felt someone at her shoulder and knew by the scent of flowers and grass that Kellius had joined her.

  "What's it a map of?" the wizard asked.

  "I'm still reading," Elyana answered slowly. But she felt a dawning awareness, and for the first time in hours she knew a sense of hope. The Crown of Twilight. This was what Arcil had so feared in the last of their adventuring years. He'd learned the shadow wizard Athalos had sought the thing, and had been terrified he would wield it against them. The crown, Arcil had told her, held power over life and death, the ability to mend and warp flesh and spirit as only the gods might do.

  So Arcil had kept up his searching. Elyana shouldn't have been surprised. She studied the map and the words, committing them to memory. After a long time she let the parchment roll back in upon itself and looked up.

  Stelan lay unmoving in his bed. Drelm had released the baroness, and she and the captain waited expectantly.

  "Father ordered her to destroy the statue and whatever it holds," Renar announced to the room as he lowered the letter. "Lest Arcil find it."

  "Arcil will cure your father if we give him that paper," Lenelle said.

  "Even if Arcil did honor his word," Elyana said, "I would be shamed to hand this over to the wizard, for Stelan has entrusted it to me. He would be very angry with us both."

  "I would rather have him angry than dead," Lenelle snapped.

  "No, mother," Renar said quickly. "We must honor father's orders."

  "You're condemning your father to death!" Lenelle spat. "Are you so eager for his title?"

  Renar bristled visibly. "Mother! How could you say that?"

  "Arcil cannot be allowed to have this," Elyana said, brandishing the scroll levelly. "But if Stelan can be kept alive, it holds hope for him."

  The baroness adjusted her shawl. "What do you mean?" she asked suspiciously.

  "It's a map. A map to where an artifact Arcil seeks is likely to reside. If he lays hands on it, his power will only grow. If I recover it, the thing should restore Stelan to life, curse or no."

  "What kind of artifact?" Lenelle demanded. "How do you know?"

  Elyana looked past her and Renar to the others. Drelm's brow was furrowed as if thinking with great effort. Kellius waited tensely. The cleric pretended indifference but was clearly fascinated by all that he saw and heard.

  "I know," Elyana replied slowly, "because Arcil once confided the matter to me. It was he who guided us in the destruction of so many dark places. Stelan and I did not realize at first that it was Arcil's interest in their magics that drove him. It might not have been, at first ..." Elyana, about to lose herself in sad reverie, pulled herself back into focus. She lightly tapped the map against her hand. "The structure at the bottom of the map is a star tower. Legend says that the god Zon-Kuthon himself helped make our world safe from the beast-god Rovagug with the creation of these towers."

  "Zon-Kuthon? Rovagug?" The cleric stood as tall as his plump little body could manage and wrapped fingers about the sacred key dangling from his neck. "These are dark and evil gods, Baroness." His head wagged back and forth in consternation. "Lady Elyana, how do you know anything of them, or their doings?"

  "From the mouth of the wizard who cursed Stelan," Elyana said. "Zon-Kuthon sided with the other gods against Rovagug, who planned to destroy the world. The Rough Beast and his minions were caged within the earth, and Zon-Kuthon stitched it shut."

  The cleric shook his head. "I have never heard of these star towers."

  Elyana didn't really care what the cleric knew aside from his countercurses. "Have you the skill to stave off Arcil's curse?"

  The fellow nodded. "But as I said, it shall be expensive."

  "What is your price?"

  The cleric cleared his throat. "Well. I must continually throw spells to cancel the curse, which shall be wearying. I would estimate it to cost approximately two hundred gold a day."

  "I will do better. If you swear to keep Stelan alive and whole, I shall turn over the Crown of Twilight to you, to deliver to your church, after we use it to revive Stelan."

  The cleric licked his lips. Any artifact of the power Elyana had described would undoubtedly pay for his magical expenditure many times over.

  "I forbid this," Lenelle said. She shouldered past the half-orc, who had crossed his arms.

  "You cannot, Mother," Renar countered. She turned on him, lips twisting in fury. He went on regardless. "The map is in Elyana's charge, as father wished. Father expressly forbade turning it over to Arcil. I mean to see that his wish is carried out!"

  "You ungrateful little..." Lenelle became apoplectic with rage, and turned on Elyana. "This is your doing, witch! You bedeviled both of them! The only certain way to save Stelan is to deal with Arcil!"

  "Your pardon, Baroness," the cleric interjected, "but I can keep him alive. It will be labor-intensive, but the temple will be most grateful for such payment. Think of all the souls we can save."

  For the right price, Elyana thought, but did not say.

  Lenelle's hands shook as she raised them and clenched fingers into fists. For a long moment Elyana thought the woman meant to strike her. Finally Lenelle screamed in fury.

  "To Hell with all of you!" she said, sweeping past them and out of the chamber. The heavy door slammed shut behind her.

  "Very well, then," Elyana said reasonably, as though nothing out of the ordinary had transpired. "Do we have an agreement?"

  "We do," the cleric replied. "But how long shall you be gone?"

  She could not help wondering if he asked so as to calculate the amount of money his temple would earn. "Ten to twelve days. Faster i
f possible. Word should likewise be sent to Yanmass ...in case we do not succeed."

  The little man nodded. "As you will. The price will have to be paid in either case, you realize."

  She nodded her understanding and turned to Drelm. "I must ride before Arcil's messenger comes. I will have to rest on the road."

  "I will go," Drelm said. "I would risk any danger for the life of my baron."

  "I thought you might volunteer. I can use a skilled warrior."

  Drelm grunted acknowledgment.

  "Lady Elyana, I too will come," Kellius said.

  She nodded in thanks and prepared to tell them just how dangerous this was likely to be. Then Renar stepped up beside them.

  "I'm going with you."

  She should not have been surprised. "You should stay here with your father."

  "Why? There's nothing I can do for him, save help you to succeed." The boy's glance slid over to Drelm, and then Renar drew himself up. "I'm fair with spear, bow, and sword. You and Captain Drelm and Father have seen to that. I've been readying for a ride like this all my life. And besides, I'm technically your baron now, until Father recovers."

  "I was wondering when you'd notice that," Elyana said. "Well, Baron, allow me to suggest, for your mother's sanity, that you remain."

  He shook his head. "She will be insufferable until you return. I couldn't live with her any more than I could live with myself if I were to remain behind while you risk your lives for Father."

  "Very well."

  "I know Arcil's more powerful than I am," Kellius said thoughtfully. "But I know I can be of service. The baron has been good to me. I mean to ride with you and Captain Drelm and ...the young baron." He bowed his head to Renar.

  "We will be pleased to have you," Renar said, managing a regal bow of his own.

  "We must act quickly, then," Elyana said "We have much to do in the next quarter-hour."

  All three lingered for a moment beside the bed of the baron while the cleric looked on with folded hands. The half-orc began a prayer to Abadar to keep his lord safe and the cleric took it up smoothly; Renar and Kellius bowed their heads in silence. Elyana looked down upon Stelan, studying his face for the thousandth time. She fully planned to see him again, but if she did not, she wished to remember his features.

  Elyana unrolled the map again, confirmed a few final features, then stepped to the hearth and tossed it into the fire. Kellius let out a little gasp. Elyana watched it crinkle in the heat and then brown and burn.

  "Why did you do that?" Drelm asked.

  "If anything happens to us," Elyana said, "the map is destroyed as Stelan wished."

  "I ..." Renar wasn't able to say anything more. Elyana turned.

  "Come. Time's wasting."

  Interlude

  Death in the Night

  The mountains stood tall and jagged on the horizon, dark fangs against the vault of the night. From the peaks came a biting wind, so cold it felt to Arcil as if it swept down from the stars themselves.

  Arcil suppressed a shiver. His companions were motionless shapes stretched in a circle about the red embers.

  Stelan lay on Elyana's right, snoring softly, cocooned in his blankets with his head facing away from her. Around the fire were the others: Edak and Vallyn and the two Galtan youngsters decreed enemies of the state because their uncle had once been a noble's bookkeeper.

  They were all asleep. All but Elyana, quiet beside the dying fire. Arcil sat up slowly, gathering his blankets, and walked over, hunched, to her side. He smiled at her questioning look. "Is this patch of grass taken?"

  "Join me if you like."

  His smile widened into one of genuine satisfaction. Their camp rested in the rocky arms of a narrow defile. Only a few lonely oaks stretched bare branches skyward behind them. The border with Taldor lay two days west, and he was deathly afraid that the Galtans would catch them. But he would never tell her that he had wakened imagining the Galtan cavalry was riding them down even now. There were many things he hoped to share with the exotic beauty, but his weakness was not one of them. He quickly stilled his arms, shaking with cold.

  "You do not need to hide your cold," Elyana told him.

  He knew she detested liars and those who dissembled in any way; she should be made to understand that he was not one. "I am a man of learning, Elyana. Many men and women say that makes me a weakling. Thus I cultivate a manner that reveals no weakness."

  "Weaknesses do not make you less a man, among your friends."

  "Friends," he said bitterly. "Where are my friends? Vallyn lives to mock me, and Stelan does not trust me. I see it in his eyes."

  "Vallyn mocks everyone," she said. "And Stelan thinks highly of you."

  "Stelan thinks highly of my skill."

  A slight nod indicated her concession. "Stelan considers you a friend."

  He doubted that. "And Edak—"

  "Edak is your friend."

  "Edak is a fool."

  Elyana sighed, and Arcil wondered what he had said to cause it.

  "Is he foolish for risking his life for you?" she asked. "For he has done that more times than I can count."

  They had all helped each other enough times that even he had lost count. They worked together, and thus they watched out for one another. But she was right—for whatever reason, Edak liked him, and Arcil might be forced to admit he was fond of the warrior, though more as a man might care for a dumb animal.

  He glanced over at her, considering what that steady gaze might hide. She was the only one who could ever get him to question his decisions—even the obvious conclusions. She was like a fire: when she was pleased with him, he felt not just warm, but truly comfortable.

  "Are you my friend?" He was aghast that he had blurted his question out like that. For a brief second his heart hammered in fear. Why had he asked that?

  Her answer came without pause. "You know that I am."

  He smiled, and Elyana frowned in response.

  "What's wrong?" he asked. What had he done now?

  "Sometimes your reactions trouble me," she said.

  So that was it. He struggled to reassure her that he understood the boundaries of their relationship. "Don't worry, I know you're Stelan's." For now, he added silently.

  "I do not belong to Stelan any more than he belongs to me."

  His breath stilled. Could she mean that her heart was not truly pledged? Her expression remained closed, almost catlike. There was no guessing any woman's mind, he thought, much less Elyana's.

  Somehow he knew that she was not inviting a changed relationship with him. Not now, at least. It saddened him, although he realized it was folly to have expected more. He faced away from her and changed the subject. "What do you want, in the end, from all this?"

  "I wish to see these refugees safely into Taldor. I look forward to a warm bath, and boar meat."

  She could be so literal. He cleared his throat, then forced himself to question on.

  "No, I mean after all this. After you've had your fill of adventuring. Do you mean to settle down with Stelan? What do you really want?"

  "That's a very personal question, Arcil."

  "I mean no insult. You live so long. I know that you're lonely among humans. Do you never want friends who can live as long as you?"

  She gave him a piercing look, then stared off into the distance. Her profile was so lovely that it cut the breath from him.

  It was a moment before she spoke. "I have wished that many times, Arcil. But there's nothing for me to do about that, and my own people are strange to me."

  He had heard about her sojourn among the elves, and how peculiar they seemed to someone who had lived all her life among humans. There was no home for her there, but he could offer hope that the coming years need not be as lonely. "Wha
t if I found a way?" he asked her, softly, daring to draw a fraction closer.

  "What?" She turned to regard him.

  "A way to live longer. A way to remain. I have heard tell of methods."

  "I would very much like to have you as a friend in a hundred years," she said, and that set his heart speeding so surely that he barely heard the rest of her words. "But you are always too eager to take risks, Arcil. Sometimes—"

  She held up a hand and shot soundlessly to her feet. Somehow her bow was already to hand and strung.

  "What is it?" he hissed. His heart thudded within his chest, fear having chased out desire in a single breath.

  "Something comes. Wake Stelan." So whispering, she grabbed an arrow and trotted forward, as certain and focused as a panther. He watched her disappear into the darkness, marveling at her grace. At his feelings. Weakness, he thought, but did not care.

  He stepped around her lover, deciding to first wake homely Edak.

  The thing had advanced softly into the valley, walking on two feet, and Elyana had almost missed its coming. It had appeared alone, so if there were others, it must be the scout.

  Elyana stopped beside a bush and watched it move from behind a large stone, silhouetting itself against the night. It moved like a man, yet while she saw the outline of its body and the swing of its arms, she perceived no head.

  The wind blew its scent away from her, but she needed no other clues—the moving thing was dead already. Whether it was sorcery of the Galtans, whose Gray Gardeners were blacker than any supposed, or some wraith wandered down from a mountain crypt, she neither knew nor cared. She swiftly replaced the arrow she'd drawn and, feeling by shape of feather alone, produced one of the enchanted shafts fixed with a silver head. She nocked it and fired.

  The string thrummed and the cast was true. She heard the arrow thunk home. But the thing kept coming.

  Elyana's flesh recoiled at the thought of facing the undead once more. She fitted another arrow to her bow, wondering where Stelan was.

  Twice more she fired with the blessed silver arrows, and then there was movement on her left. Almost too late she realized she'd been drawn out, and ducked a lurching swipe from a man-shape with burning eyes. She fired point-blank and the arrow sank into flesh. The rotting visage before her smiled. Starlight revealed a body garbed in the clothes of a nobleman, perfectly tailored but spattered with blood and mud, especially about the collar, where the head had been crudely stitched to the neck with thick threads.