“No! No! Noooooooooo!”
Diveal was thrown bodily into the inky depths of the swirling pool … where his voice was quickly consumed by the bubbling darkness beyond.
Gape and Gordo stared blindly at each other, then turned and padded out of the room in pursuit of their master.
The dark portal began to disintegrate, fading from the room like a shredding mist.
Two
VANQUISH STALKED THROUGH THE palace, walking awkwardly at first as he became used to Groan’s tempered stride. A grim smile parted the barbarian’s lips as the dark god made his way through the palace’s upper floors.
At length, he paused in a narrow doorway, where a middle-aged man with a long moustache sat hunched over a pile of scrolls.
“You …” he commanded, pointing a hand that quickly developed elongated fingernails in a gnarly crackle of dark energy. His blood-red eyes blazed defiantly, even in the washy light of the afternoon sun. “RISE.”
The man jumped up from his chair and immediately looked around for a sword. Unfortunately, in doing so he locked eyes with the intruder … and felt his will drain away.
“You are General of the Dullitch Army.”
“I-I am. We’re frantically trying to discover the source of the explo—”
“Very good. I am now King. You will not defy me.”
“N-no, Your Majesty. N-never, but Viscount Curfew—”
“Is no more. You recognize me?”
The general seemed to break momentarily from his reverie in order to squint at the intruder.
“Y-you are King Teethgrit, ruler of Phlegm.”
“King Teethgrit, indeed? I am a legend here, on this plane?”
“What? Oh, er … yes, Your Majesty. You are known far and wide for your incredible strength and courage.”
“Good.”
“B-but if I may say so, Your Majesty, the people of Dullitch will not—”
“Then they will be subdued. ALL OF THEM.”
The general bowed his head, eyes once again locked on the red orbs that fixed him to the spot.
“You will gather together all senior guards present in the palace and bring them to the great courtyard. You will not ask why. You will not explain your actions to anyone. You will simply follow these instructions unswervingly … and with purpose.”
Again, the general bowed his head.
“I will, Your Majesty.”
Vanquish stood aside and watched as the little man dashed from the room and bolted off in the direction of the great hall. Then he moved into the general’s office and began carefully inspecting its contents. Evidently, it had once been the home of the palace wizard, as it contained all manner of flasks and bottles, along with rows of books stacked haphazardly on rickety shelving.
Vanquish ran his newly grown talons along the display and selected three very different looking containers. There was a miniature box, an ornately decorated flask with a cork stopper and a squat, circular jar.
Taking the deepest of breaths, Vanquish unclasped the box, lifted its lid and exhaled into it. At first, there was only the rush of expelled air, but then a wispy mist emerged from the dark god’s mouth and drifted into the box. Vanquish left the lid open for a time, examining the swirling mist within. Then he closed the lid and replaced the box carefully on the shelf before turning his attention to the remaining containers.
This time, however, his breath was spent in a different way.
“Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.”
The hum was low, a negative wall of sound that rumbled through the palace, causing dust to drift down from the ceilings.
Vanquish abruptly ceased his efforts … and waited.
After a few minutes, Gape and Gordo appeared outside the room, both shuffling toward the doorway like mindless zombies.
“Expel your souls into these.” Vanquish gestured at the remaining containers. “Just open the lids, blank your minds and breathe out … you’ll find it happens naturally. Tonight, we will begin to hunt down and destroy all those who witnessed my possession of the barbarian … and all those who would stand in defiance of my rule.”
Gape and Gordo said nothing. They simply staggered into the room and began to follow their master’s instructions.
“Goooood.” Vanquish allowed himself a smile. “Now I must go. I have two very old … friends to summon.”
Dullitch was in the throws of a chaotic uproar.
Thanks to the determined efforts of the secret army, rumors of Curfew’s death were spreading like wildfire. In the east of the city, Effigy Spatula, who was still believed to be dead by his friends in the secret army, moved liked a poisoned dart between the houses, banging on carefully selected doors to alert the more vocal citizens that their beloved leader was nothing more than a cowardly impostor. In the west quarters, Nazz, together with Obegarde and Jimmy Quickstint (whose magical disguises had unfortunately worn off), peppered the crowds with accounts of Groan Teethgrit’s greedy capture of the throne, being careful to leave out the fact that he had been possessed by a dark god in the process. These revelations, together with a few pointed suggestions that the taxes might be rising, quickly mobilized the people of Dullitch into a seething mass of agitators.
It took less than an hour for two vast crowds to appear on either side of Oval Square, both seemingly astonished to see the other.
“Effigy!” Nazz yelled, his voice filled with emotion. The big ogre was staring over the front rank of heads and pointing at the opposite mob. “Jimmy, Obegarde, look! It’s Effigy: he’s alive!”
The vampire squinted at the distant figure, and nodded in amazement. Jimmy Quickstint, on the other hand, wasted no time in catching up with his friend.
“Effigy,” he spluttered, arriving in front of Spatula as the two crowds merged. “Y-you have to listen. Diveal survived the explosion—”
“Then the time for listening is over, old comrade. Now is the time for action. Together, we have rallied the people! Now we are ready to fight!”
“But we must get word to Burnie. The situation has—”
“Burnie already knows about Diveal.”
“But you don’t understand!” Jimmy pointed back at the palace, spittle flying from his mouth as he spoke. “Groan Teethgrit is in there, and he’s joined forces with Diveal!”
“What? The barbarian king of Phlegm?”
“Yes!” Jimmy nodded. “And Diveal has put a spell on him or something. I watched Groan strike down his best friend with my own eyes! What are we going to do?”
Effigy signaled to the crowd for silence.
“Groan has joined forces with Diveal?” he asked, his brow furrowed.
“Well, not voluntarily, but …”
“Either way, they are invaders … and they have taken the throne of our city. Well, worry not; soon, both Groan and Diveal will be crushed under the banner of the People’s Army of Dullitch. We don’t tolerate “invaders” in this city, be they necromancers or barbarians.”
“OK, but Groan Teethgrit—”
“I know; the man’s a legend.” Effigy waved the thief into stunned silence. “But he’s crossed the line, Jimmy. And now both he and Diveal must pay the price for their despotism. The people will finally have their say!”
The freedom fighter raised a large cone to his mouth. “EVERYONE TO THE PALACE. BRING DOWN THE GATES. CHARGE FOR YOUR FREEDOM! CHAAAAAAAARGE!”
Effigy’s words ringing in their ears, the crowd rushed, en masse, at the palace gates, which were soon trampled beneath them. Thousands of armed and screaming justice-seekers hurtled toward the palace, and stopped dead … as a grim silence fell over them.
Effigy Spatula lowered the cone and gasped at the sight that greeted them.
Two obsidian dragons had swooped from the stormy sky to land—great wings folding up behind them—on the lower battlements of the palace.
Effigy swallowed as the crowd before him began to gasp.
“What in the name of …”
The sky over
Dullitch turned black … and several streaks of lightning lashed the ground. As a fine rain fell from the sky, the only remaining sound was that of a child crying, far off in the distance.
The crowd didn’t move; it was as if they’d been frozen to the spot with fear. Dragons were a rarity in Illmoor, but obsidian dragons of this size were thought to be no more than the stuff of legend.
However, reality reasserted itself in their minds when both creatures looked skyward in order to belch two colossal jets of flame into the air.
There was a scream from the crowd … and several citizens fainted. Then, as if coming out of a trance, the people of Dullitch turned … and ran.
All except the remaining members of the secret army. Nazz, Obegarde and Jimmy Quickstint were staring in frank astonishment at Effigy Spatula.
The freedom fighter, far from retreating, had marched straight into the courtyard and was once again raising both hands to his lips. He seemed completely oblivious to his sudden lack of support.
“You really think a bunch of illusionary guff is going to keep you and your new master on the throne of the greatest city in Illmoor?” he screamed. “It’s LAUGHABLE! Come out and face your destiny, you and the sorcerous wretch you now serve!”
The dragons both watched Effigy carefully, but neither moved to attack him. Obegarde glared at Jimmy.
“Didn’t you warn him?” the vampire screamed. “We’ve got no idea what we’re dealing with here!”
“I didn’t get a chance to tell him,” Jimmy yelled back. “He was too intent on storming the palace.”
“He’s going to get us all killed,” Nazz bellowed, thundering toward the courtyard.
Vanquish had now appeared on the balcony, a red cloak draped over Groan’s broad shoulders. Gordo Goldeaxe and Gape Teethgrit had staggered awkwardly to stand on either side of him.
“Gordo!” Jimmy whispered to Obegarde. “We saw him cut down … what’s going on here? Do you think Diveal raised him?”
“And the brother, by the look of him,” Obegarde replied. “They’re both just standing there, like trained zombies!”
“You!” Effigy screamed again, raising his voice to an even greater level. “Come down here and face the PEOPLE!”
Up on the balcony, the shadow extended its arms.
“Interesting,” the dark voice boomed. The red eyes closed for a moment, as if in concentrated thought. “And you are Effigy Spatula … freedom fighter. How amusing. Yet your friends don’t seem to share your confidence. They cower behind you … the grave-digging thief, even the ogre and the vampire … whose names will come to me in just a moment. Ah yes—we have Obegarde … Jimmy Quickstint and Nazz. YOU THREE WOULD DO WELL TO TURN AND WALK AWAY FROM THIS INSOLENT WRETCH, BEFORE YOU JOIN HIM IN MY DISPLEASURE.”
Effigy peered up at the great form, but he didn’t flinch.
“So you come to rely on the minor magic of a cowardly impostor? Am I supposed to turn and flee at the mere mention of a few names? Ha! Your efforts to deter us from our cause are laughable. We speak as one! You, Groan Teethgrit, are nothing more than a savage: step down from the balcony, and bring your tainted master with you!”
“I have no master, fool. I am Vanquish; hear me roar.”
A network of lightning stretched from the sky. Vanquish threw up a hand … and absorbed it.
Effigy grinned at the display.
“More illusions!” he cried, as Nazz arrived, panting, beside him. “What’s next, I wonder? A rabbit out of a hat? Vanquish, indeed! The people will—”
“The people of Dullitch will do nothing, for they will encounter nothing that troubles them. They will see what I want them to see, hear what I want them to hear … and forget whatever I wish them to forget.”
“What, like two dragons? Ha! I’ve never heard such nons—”
Vanquish held aloft a gloved hand, and then brought it down in a sweeping motion. The dragons fell like two stones dropped down a well, unfurling their wings at the last second and swooping low over the cobbles. Rising aloft once more, they breathed a combined shower of flame at the space where Effigy had been standing.
But the freedom fighter was gone, struggling in Nazz’s mighty arms as the small group retreated into the shadowy streets of Dullitch.
Vanquish turned to his undead assistants.
“Go now,” he growled. “Kill all of these fools … along with anyone who gets in your way. The dragons will assist you … as will I.”
Three
“THAT WAS FIRE!” EFFIGY screamed, as the group thundered around Oval Square. “Actual, real, genuine, burning flames! I felt the heat on my face.”
“That’s because it wasn’t an illusion,” Obegarde yelled. “The dragons were REAL … and Groan Teethgrit has become something … terrible.”
“You think so?”
“We all do! He’s become Vanquish.”
“Yes! That’s the name he used …”
The group ran on, Effigy still struggling to free himself from Nazz’s grip. “But who, or what, is Vanquish?”
“Somebody who commands dragons,” Jimmy panted. “We probably don’t need to know any more than that.”
“Vanquish is a god,” Nazz managed, lowering the freedom fighter on to his feet as he continued to pound the cobbles. “My people in the hills used to speak of him on cold winter nights. He’s very old; possibly as old as Illmoor itself. The good news is that, as I recall from the legends, at that time he took the form of an immense, multi-tentacled mutation. So let’s look on the bright side here: at least he’s not totally manifest at the moment!”
“That is the bright side?” Obegarde panted. “Terrific. Absolutely terrific.”
“Can today actually get any worse?” Jimmy screamed. “We’ve got two dragons after us, possibly controlled by a dark god, both Groan’s companions have been turned into demon zombies and there’s an impostor sitting on the throne.”
“Doubt that,” said Nazz, mockingly. “If what I’ve heard about Vanquish is true, it’s probably already eaten him.”
“Where can we go?” Effigy blurted. “The sewers?”
Jimmy shook his head.
“No. The sewers in Illmoor are all linked to the streets: we can’t use them to get out of the city.”
“Where, then?”
“I don’t know!”
The group ran on, particularly aware of the shadows rising in the skies behind them.
Vanquish returned to the throne room, his new face set in a grim smile. Concentrating hard, he raised one hand and snapped his fingers: a ball of energy formed on the air, twisting and turning until it shaped itself into a cone of light.
The dark god took a breath. Then he spoke into it:
“People of Dullitch, hear me now. Your ears do not deceive you: I speak directly into every mind within the city walls. CLEAR THE STREETS: YOU WILL ALL RETURN TO YOUR HOMES AND AWAIT MY INSTRUCTIONS. DO NOT STRUGGLE, FOR TO DO SO AGAINST MY MIGHT IS FUTILE.”
Vanquish smiled. Of course, he wouldn’t get all of them to obey, not immediately … but the weak and feeble-minded would bend to his will like thin-stemmed florets in the wind.
The dragons swooped and soared over the empty streets of Dullitch, belching flames at every quarter in order to underline the threat. Far below, Gape and Gordo stalked the streets around the palace, kicking down doors and hunting through any houses that looked like convenient hiding places. The inhabitants of these unlucky dwellings sat, mesmerized—entire families of the chosen possessed, awaiting new orders from the voice that had so terrified their souls …
Soon, the streets of Dullitch were deserted and the city was gripped in an icy fist of terror.
The secret army had sensibly decided to split up in an effort to leave the city undetected. Nazz and Effigy had gone west, choosing to negotiate the tree-lined walks of Sack Avenue instead of heading directly for the North Gate. Jimmy and Obegarde had moved in the opposite direction, picking their way toward the Rotting Ferret and, ultimately, the Ma
rket Gate.
Unfortunately, they found that route barred.
“It’s one of the dragons!” Obegarde whispered, peering from the mouth of an alley that ran alongside Finlayzzon’s. “It’s landed on the gate tower: we can’t get out!”
Jimmy rubbed his chin with a trembling hand. “Do you think the other one’s on the North Gate?”
“Of course it is! Gods damn it! They’ve closed us in …”
“Where do you think that zombified duo are?”
“Who knows?” Obegarde shrugged. “They could be anywhere. We need to move.”
“But where?”
“The harbor: it’s our only choice. Even if they are blocking the gates, we might still be able to get out on a ship.”
Jimmy looked doubtful. “You reckon?”
“What other options are there?”
“None.”
“Exactly. Mind you, I’m not sure quite how we’re going to get out of this alley. That dragon can probably spot a cockroach from half a mile away …”
Jimmy grinned.
“Leave that to me,” he said and, jumping to his feet, began to sidle carefully along the alley.
“Psst … Oi!”
The thief glanced over his shoulder. “What?”
“Where are you going?”
“Through the door over there!” Jimmy pointed at a small wooden portal which opened on to the alley.
“Why, where does it go?”
“To number thirteen, Market Street.”
“And?”
The thief rolled his eyes. “And the window in the top back room of Thirteen Market Street can get us on to the roof walkway to number Nine. When we get to number Nine, there is a beam connecting the roof with the roof of the big green house on The Goodwalk. Then we go along the city wall, over Crest Hill and straight into the harbor.”
Obegarde was silent for a moment. Then he said: “I’ve just realized how glad I am that I didn’t go with Nazz or Effigy.”
Jimmy winked back at him.
“They don’t call me Quickstint for nothing,” he said.
The Coldstone Conflict Page 2
