Shadowblood tc-4

by William King

  “There is more than one way of dealing with that.” The menace was obvious in the Inquisitor’s voice.

  “It would be a crime to waste such talent when it could be at the disposal of the realm.”

  “Human sorcerers have proven very prone to corruption by the Shadow.”

  “In this case, I believe the Terrarch side of his heritage will prove the stronger.”

  “Have you any idea of the boy’s parentage?”

  “The human mother is known. The father is not.”

  “He was raised by humans?”

  “An orphanage in Sorrow, and then a soldier of the Queen.” Rik was glad Asea had missed out the long period between when he fled the orphanage and took the Queen’s coin. He doubted Joran would be too thrilled to hear about his time as a thief on the streets of Sorrow. But all it would take would be a little digging for him to find out, and who knew where that would lead?

  “He freed the unfortunate Queen Kathea from the Serpent Tower.”

  “If she had lived she might have ennobled him herself.”

  “It’s a pity she did not then, for that would have saved us some difficulties.”

  “Difficulties?”

  “These are not tolerant times. There are factions are Court who would not look kindly on the ennobling of one with human blood. The Emerald faction is a power in the land now. I don’t have to tell you that.”

  “If there is anything I can do to help smooth the path. I am not without friends or gold.”

  “I would be pleased to talk with this Rik as soon as possible.”

  “I will make sure he gets the message.”

  “What do you think of Lieutenant Sardec?”

  “He is a very conscientious young officer.”

  “I understand he has a human lover. He fought a duel over her.”

  “I have heard some such gossip. I can assure you it in no way impairs his efficiency.”

  “He was in command of your bodyguard during your mission to Harven.”

  “And before that, when I visited Deep Achenar.”

  “That was a mission for which he should have been commended. As I understand it, you prevented Uran Ultar from being resurrected. The return of such a demon at this exact moment could have been very dangerous to our war effort.”

  “I think it’s all part of a pattern.”

  “I am inclined to agree. We sent people to Achenar. They found the bodies of the Ultari, and the Magisters detected the residual energies of the portal. I read the report. So did her majesty.”

  “You have been busy.”

  “Not as busy as you. We would like to know more about the disappearance of the Serpent Tower as well. Was it destroyed by sorcery?”

  “Ilmarec destroyed it. He intended to use the Serpent Men’s ancient weapons against us. It was a plan that backfired to our advantage.”

  “You’ve left quite a trail of devastation behind you this past year, Milady.”

  “I was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “Or the right place at the right time. One thing about this unfortunate train of events works in your favour. All of them have been to the advantage of Talorea. Ilmarec opposed our intervention here in Kharadrea. Uran Ultar’s followers could have tied down our army on the border. I understand there was some business with animated corpses in Halim’s main graveyard.”

  Asea nodded. “There’s plenty of work for an Inquisitor here.”

  “A dirty business that- done by Jaderac. Another Sardean.”

  “Yes. Another Sardean.”

  “That place seems infested with dark magicians,” Again there was that slight mocking note in his voice. “If you wanted to make a case for the invasion that would play well with the Temple, you could not have done better.”

  “Surely you are not implying that I have fabricated all this?”

  “No, dear lady, I am not, but you must understand this- we are both a long way from the Amber city, and many strange theories get thrown about there, by people who have not been on the spot, who would like to believe that you have some ulterior motive, who suspect you perhaps of being as political as themselves.”

  “You are not like that, of course.”

  “I am a simple servant of the Temple. I seek only to establish the truth of what is going on here.”

  Asea laughed outright. “The function of the Inquisition has changed over the past few years.”

  Joran joined in her mirth. “No. That is not the case. You know as well as I that the Inquisition has many levels and many functions. Some Inquisitors seek out heretics. Some correct the errors of our human subjects. Some, like myself, are concerned with the realities of politics and seeing that the Temple navigates those tricky shoals without foundering.”

  “I have heard that you bear the gift of the cleansing flame.”

  “That is another of my functions. In this life we are all called on to play many roles.”

  “You have seen how it is here. The dead do not rest, and those that are not burned rise again.”

  “You have some theory about why this is happening now?”

  “Jaderac performed a dreadful ritual and unleashed strange powers. I think someone else has assayed that ritual on a far larger scale.”

  “I have heard reports that the dead walk throughout Kharadrea. Surely no spell can be that powerful, not on this world at least.”

  “Who can tell? All winter winds of corruption carried this plague from the East and those who die of it rise again to threaten us. I think someone there has mastered ancient necromancy. I think they are using such sorcery as the Princes of Shadow used.”

  “Such magic is impossible.”

  “Events have proved that to be untrue. If someone has opened a Gate there are ways of bleeding power from it. With such power, one could perform so powerful a spell.”

  “That is not the only thing you could do. If you could open a Gate, you could bring the Princes of Shadow and their armies to our world.”

  “I see you grasp the danger of our situation and why I am concerned and think the Queen should be too.”

  “You suspect that the Sardeans may be behind this.”

  There was an urgency in Joran’s voice now that was obvious even to Rik. For all his earlier questioning they seemed to have come to the point in the interview that held most interest for him. Rik shook his head. Perhaps the Inquisitor merely wanted Asea to think that, perhaps it was a feint designed to hide his true interests and intentions.

  “Yes,” said Asea.

  “Why do you think that?”

  “Malkior was very powerful there, a former Chancellor. He was in a position to encourage the rot.”

  “It always comes back to him with you, doesn’t it?”

  “Perhaps because that is the way of things.”

  “His death begs other questions.”

  “I know. Who were his followers? Who will replace him as their leader? How great was his influence?”

  “How high does the corruption go? He was the Empress Arachne’s lover.”

  “I know that too.”

  Rik thought he saw where this was going. If the Taloreans successfully invaded Sardea, there would be purges of all the people under discussion. This was a weapon that could be used to discredit the Queen Empress and all of Malkior’s party and be used to replace them. Tamara would not do well if the Taloreans won.

  In many ways it did not really matter whether Malkior was a Shadowblood or not. He could see that it would suit the powers that be in Talorea to believe that he was. The truth was merely incidental to that. Perhaps Joran might prove a useful ally to Asea’s cause. He appeared to be all in favour of the invasion.

  Unless, of course, all this talk was merely a method of making him look that way while he went about other business.

  “And there’s one more thing about the undead plague,” Asea said. There was something in her tone that made Rik’s hackles rise.

  “What’s that, Milady?”
Joran asked.

  “We must ask ourselves why someone is raising so many of the dead.”

  “To tie down our forces, to demoralise us, to weaken our will.”

  “I fear all of that and more.”

  “More?”

  “There are spells to control the risen dead as well as animate them. Imagine what would happen if we find ourselves fighting against armies of the dead.”

  “That is a chilling thought,” the Inquisitor said.

  Rik had to agree.

  Chapter Five

  The sun shone down brightly on the glasshouse gardens. So high were the walls, so dense were the plants that Rik could almost forget that there was a city starving to death outside. Corpses might be walking the streets and packs of feral dogs hunting starving children through the ruins but in the Palace gardens, peacocks strutted over a manicured lawn, dotted with specimens of plants drawn from all over the world.

  Rik felt light headed and calm. Asea’s potion was doing its work. The voices were still, although he sensed their presence deep in his mind. It was difficult to keep a smile from his lips. All morning he had banged into things, and not noticed until he discovered the cuts and bruises later.

  Asea walked beside him. They strolled into a maze of hedges that cut off the rest of garden from view, walked passed topiary dragons and wyrms and unicorns and bushes of sweetly smelling flowers. Overhead, a roof of crystal admitted the light.

  Asea looked at him sidelong, measuring him and not liking what she saw. She glanced around and made sure no one was looking at them. “I think the dosage is too strong,” she said. “You are perhaps too susceptible.”

  “You could make a fortune selling this stuff on the black market,” he said, finding the remark too funny not to giggle at.

  “I already have a fortune, Rik. And the drug on which the potion is based is widely used by certain classes of Terrarch. Some prefer it to alcohol.”

  “I can understand why.”

  “It is addictive and dulls the wits and those you will need to have about you. Use the spell against poison I taught you and reduce the potency of the drug in your bloodstream. Not too much, but enough to prevent you lurching all over the place.”

  Rik felt like protesting but knew it would be futile. He concentrated his mind and muttered the words of the incantation. Power surged through his veins, cleansing them. In moments, he felt less light headed and more in control. He also felt much less happy.

  “That is better,” she said.

  “I don’t feel any better.”

  “I think you were feeling rather too good.”

  “And it is your duty to keep me from feeling that way.”

  “You are developing quite a sardonic manner, my boy.”

  “I think your own may be rubbing off on me.”

  “An interesting possibility.” She looked around. Spring was most definitely in the air. The sky was blue and clear. Birds sang. “I will be glad to get outside,” she said. “The Palace is starting to feel a little too much like a prison.”

  “You have obviously never been in a prison.”

  “Ah but I have, Rik. In a life as long as mine there are very few things you do not experience at least once.”

  “You were obviously held in a better class of prison than the ones I have been in.”

  “No doubt. But then I am a better class of person.”

  “I have heard that some of the cellars have been converted into cells since the Inquisitor arrived. Not a few people seem to be going into them and not coming out.” He was serious now.

  “My half-brother told me that Joran bore a warrant from the Queen sanctioning his activities. There has been too much dark sorcery lately for the Inquisition to be seen not to act.”

  “I keep expecting them to come knocking on the door. It’s worse than waiting for the thief takers back in Sorrow.”

  “It might be sensible not to recount your experiences with the thief-takers when you finally do meet the Inquisitor. He may not find them as charming as I do.”

  “I’ll try and remember that. I am starting to wish they would come. At least the waiting would be over.”

  “That is exactly the way they want you to feel, Rik. You must start thinking like a Terrarch. Learn patience. This is a game to them. They know you are not going anywhere. They think they have you trapped here.”

  “I notice a lot of new servants in our part of the Palace.”

  “Our chambers are under observation which is why we are having this little chat here.”

  “Your sorcery prevents eavesdropping surely.”

  “There are other means: wine glasses against walls, secret view points, bribed servants.”

  “I have checked the rooms. We have taken all precautions.”

  “And this is another one.”

  “As you wish.”

  “There’s no need to sound so surly.” It came to Rik, that beneath her usual assured manner, Asea actually was worried, and that gave him pause. If she was worried, he should be terrified. He did not enjoy the same level of political influence that she did.

  Perhaps she was worried that the Inquisition might take him, and find out all manner of unpleasant things about her. As ever, he was amazed that she had not simply disposed of him. It was what he would have done in her place. He realised that his life might indeed be hanging by a thread here. One wrong word and…

  “I am sorry,” he said. “I have never been good at waiting.”

  “Life, you will find, consists of very little else, one way or another.”

  “I believe you.”

  “Now you are being too contrite. Do not worry so much Rik. I am not without influence at Court, and Azaar will support me through whatever might come, and for the moment, he is our commanding General.”

  “How long will that last?”

  “For the duration of the coming campaign, I hope. He is without a doubt the best General in the West.”

  “From what you have told me, politics might still see him replaced.”

  “It might, but I doubt it. Even the Emerald faction know that the fate of our world hangs on the coming clash. The flow of history for the next thousand years will be decided by whether Talorea or Sardea triumphs, and that is without taking into account the machinations of the Princes of Shadow.”

  “I thought we were supposed to have put the era of the Inquisition behind us.”

  “It is not like it once was, Rik. At least they have to make people disappear in the dark now, and they are required to have official sanction. There was a time when they could have simply plucked you off the street without consulting anything except their own desires.”

  “And so the world progresses, eh?”

  “And so the world does indeed progress. Despite all your youthful cynicism.”

  “I heard you talking about the Gate in the East. Do you really think someone could open one?”

  “I did once. Much as it pains me to admit it, I may not be unique among sorcerers.”

  “What are the Gates?”

  “They are ancient artefacts.”

  “Did the Terrarchs make them?”

  “No, the Angels did. They used them to travel from world to world. Once they linked thousands of planets or so the Dragon Angel Adaana once told me.”

  He stared at her. Once again she was alluding to conversations with beings who were legends.

  “They were made by Angels.”

  “Yes.”

  “And yet you opened one.”

  “They are devices, Rik, machines made by magic. If you understand how they work you can use them. You can open them and close them.”

  “They were made by Angels.”

  “You said that already, Rik, and please close your mouth. The slack-jawed look does not become you.

  “It is simply that your statement astonishes me.”

  “I can see how it might. But I can assure you that it is the case unless Adaana lied to me, and I doubt she did. Angels rar
ely speak anything but truth.”

  “You closed the Gate.”

  “To be more specific, I broke it. I did not want anyone being able to open it again after us.”

  “And now you suspect that someone has opened one again.”

  “I suspect someone is creating a new one. According to Adaana they took centuries to weave and grow. I did not think anyone else had that knowledge but apparently that was mere vanity on my part. The Princes of Shadow gained access to the knowledge of the Angels when they plundered their Temple-Houses. It was one of the reasons they rebelled in the first place.”

  He simply stared at her. Perhaps it was the drugs that stupefied him but he suspected that it was the way she talked of matters of theology as if they were part of her personal affairs. She seemed abstracted, lost in thought.

  “I did not think that there was enough power in this world to weave a gate, but if you had access to thanatomancy or rituals derived from it, you could conceivably make the seed and after that it would simply be a matter of shaping it. The trick is to create the fault into the Deep and link it to the Angel’s Roads.”

  “You said that with access to a Gate, spells as potent as those on Al’Terra became possible.”

  “Yes- power bleeds from the Deep through a Gate, like water flowing up from a spring. One who knows the correct rituals could tap it. For decades now the level of ambient magical energy has been rising. That’s when I had my initial suspicions. I ignored them at first because the level always fluctuates naturally. And I did not want to admit to the alternative. Foolishly, as it turns out.”

  “You are saying that with access to such power a sorcerer could create this plague and animate the dead.”

  “Yes.”

  “And they could open a way through to Al’Terra and let the Princes of Shadow come here.”

  “Yes.”

  “It could already have happened.”

  “I don’t think so. I would be able to sense the presence of a fully open Gate, so would you. So would anyone with a reasonably strong gift for sorcery. It would be as noticeable as the sun is in the sky to a man with eyes. I don’t think the Princes of Shadow are here yet, but I have been known to be wrong.”