Shadow of the Otherverse (The Last Whisper of the Gods Saga Book 3)

by Berardinelli, James

  “That’s my influence. The first time I met this particular rock wyrm, it tried to kill me. The attack was responsible for the death of Lamanar, my surrogate father. Warburm shot it in the eye; that’s what drove it off. If he hadn’t brought along the pistols, it might have killed us all. I wouldn’t want to face it in battle.”

  “Will it fight for you?”

  Sorial nodded. “It joined me in attacking the efreet. Without its aid, I would have died. When it comes to the final battle, wherever and whenever that is, it will be there with me.”

  “Rock wyrms used to be plentiful in the North but no one has seen one in decades, if not centuries. The common belief is that they’re extinct. Is it the last of its kind?”

  “No. There are others, although they don’t spend much time above ground. There was a period when they were aggressively hunted by men so they learned to live where the spears and arrows couldn’t reach them. I don’t know how many are left. They’re loners by nature, seeking others only to mate. They don’t travel in packs.”

  “And, assuming you can locate them, will these others also fight?”

  “If I can compel them. My relationship with the creatures of earth is difficult to describe. I can speak directly into their minds. I don’t dominate them but I influence them and they defer to me. They recognize I’m the master of the domain in which they live. In the past, there were other creatures of the earth that might have made valuable allies. I thought them all dead but Justin’s recruitment of djinn and a dragon got me to rethink it. Finding them will require time, though, and that ain’t something we’ve got much of at the moment. Maybe once you’re settled on the throne in Obis.”

  “You speak of that as if that was a given thing rather than the long-shot it really is.”

  Sorial admittedly hadn’t paid much attention to the frequent discussions between Myselene and Gorton regarding the politics of Obis. Although a member of her council, there were areas in which he was out of his depth and that was one of them. What did a lad raised in a stable know about court gamesmanship? He understood she would face resistance but he had assumed her status as Rangarak’s sole surviving child would trump all other concerns. He saw his role as the hammer to shatter any pockets of resistance. When he voiced this opinion, she was quick to disabuse him of it.

  “We should have talked about this in detail earlier but better to formulate a strategy now than when we’re standing in the shadow of the city’s walls. Gorton should have taken you under his wing for a period of intense tutelage, but I suppose the opportunity wasn’t there. In a normal situation, someone in my position who makes this kind of power play would be many times more likely to be assassinated than to successfully complete the gambit. You’ll have many roles in the weeks to come but the two most important ones are protector and assassin. You’ll be my tool - sharp and precise at times, blunt and bruising at others. Circumstances will define your role, not me.”

  “You ain’t considered the heir apparent?”

  “Women in Obis are never considered ‘heirs apparent.’ It’s not like in Vantok where the eldest child takes the throne regardless of whether it’s a man or a woman. There have been queens in Obis’ history but they’re exceptions and usually exceptional. Even if I wasn’t the queen of Vantok, the throne wouldn’t have fallen to me after the untimely demise of so many of my family members. To take control, I have to marry a well-placed and respected man - someone lacking the connections to make a genuine play for the throne on his own but who has sufficient influence with key members of the military to deliver a sizeable portion of the army to me. In Obis, no king or queen can hold the throne without the backing of the generals. They worshipped my father but that allegiance won’t be easily transferred to his daughter. Above all else, I’m going to have to show a penchant for ruthlessness and that means eliminating other claimants. Anything less won’t be respected.”

  “Who’ll try to kill you?”

  “Practically everyone. Or at least everyone who believes their position could be adversely impacted by my ascension to the throne. Many of the nobles. Some of the generals. And, of course, all those with designs on Obis’ rulership. Gorton and I speculated that, had things not gone wrong in Vantok, I would need to be on the watch for assassins. Those seeking the throne in Obis know I’m somewhere out there and that makes them uncomfortable. Some will see my emergence as an opportunity. Succession wars like this often last for years and there are historical examples of those that have lasted for generations. This one has been brewing since Grushik died but, in order for us to have a chance to stand against Justin and his expanding army, it has to end in a matter of weeks. Your powers, judiciously applied to eliminate opponents, will speed things up.”

  Sorial said nothing. He had always known one of his roles in Myselene’s drive for the throne would be the systematic removal of her rivals. He hadn’t realized her position was so tenuous, her chances at capturing the throne so uncertain. His assumption was that she would be solidifying an established position, not carving one out where it didn’t exist. Was it that he hadn’t recognized how difficult this was going to be, or had he pretended otherwise to himself?

  “I never wanted to be queen of Obis and I still don’t want it. I’ll take the title in name because I need it in order to be able to marshal the army. But once Vantok is retaken, my place will be there. It may surprise you but, in less than a year, I’ve developed a greater fondness for my adopted city than I ever felt about the place where I was born. My ‘husband’, whoever he may be, can rule Obis secure in the knowledge that Rangarak’s daughter is a great distance away. Gorton, of course, will want me to unite the cities and establish a joint throne at the stronger base - meaning Obis, of course. I’m sure there are others who feel the same way.”

  “Like Ferguson.” Sorial’s voice dripped with ill-concealed distaste.

  Myselene nodded. “Like Ferguson. He preaches the benefits of unity now that the gods no longer exist. Men, according to him, must learn to work together or they will perish divided.” She paused. “You hate him. Why so much rancor?”

  “You know my story.” He felt certain anyone familiar with his history would understand why he viewed Ferguson as an enemy.

  “Most of it,” said Myselene. “What Azarak and Alicia told me. I understand that he manipulated your life but is the result so bad? Tell me honestly: Would you rather be who you are now, The Lord of Earth, the third wizard of the new age, or some common farmer or stableboy who likely would have died at Vantok? Can you tell me that Ferguson’s arranging of your life didn’t turn out better for you? He gave you things you never would have otherwise had: power, influence, and Alicia.”

  Beneath the mask, Sorial grimaced. Myselene’s questions were ones he had spent long hours pondering on his own. He had long ago concluded that he owed a debt to Ferguson for making him a wizard. That was one reason he had permitted the man to live during the weeks when he had controlled the prelate’s fate. Azarak wouldn’t have stopped an execution. But the ledger wasn’t balanced. There were too many crimes that had gone unpunished.

  “Did Alicia ever tell you about Annie?”

  Sorial could tell by Myselene’s expression that the name meant nothing to her. So few knew about Annie now. In her lifetime, men had come from far and wide across Vantok to be served a mug of ale by her and catch a glimpse down the gaping front of her blouse. Now, no one remembered her except perhaps him, and the specifics of those memories were fading. Even their first night together, for years a vivid jumble of images and sensations, was losing its clarity as time worked to erode it.

  “Annie was a barmaid at The Wayfarer’s Comfort. I can’t say when she started but, for me, she was like a surrogate mother or older sister. My… interest… changed as I got older. She took my virginity shortly after my Maturity Day and we became bed partners for a while. My proposal of marriage led to her death, although I didn’t know it at the time. Even though she was nearly ten years older, she was a per
fect match for a penniless stableboy. She made me laugh, which no one else did, and when I was with her, I could forget my obsession with determining the secrets my mother was hiding from me. We talked of leaving Vantok and starting anew elsewhere, especially after Warburm voiced his opposition to the match. At that point, everything seemed possible.”

  “And Alicia?”

  Sorial shrugged. “A bratty girl who lived in a big mansion with her father. Pretty to look at though - almost heartbreakingly adorable. She kept showing up in the most unlikely of places. I never thought much about that at the time but, later, I understood why. Everywhere she went, she was shadowed by her hulking bodyguard. Actually, I liked Vagrum. In him, I sensed a kindred spirit, but that was when becoming a mercenary seemed a likely career path. He died for her and, in a way, for me, and it was because of Ferguson. My feelings for Alicia were conflicted at the time but I always recognized how unrealistic it would be for someone who mucked stalls to end up with the daughter of one of the city’s most prominent nobles. Annie, on the other hand, wasn’t so far above my station that I couldn’t have her. But the people controlling my life, chief of those being Ferguson, didn’t like the idea.”

  Myselene with listening with rapt attention. Sorial could see her eyes glinting catlike in the firelight. Her expression - a girl mesmerized by the words of a storyteller - reminded him of her youth. She was younger even than he was, if only by a matter of seasons. If her plans regarding Obis came to fruition, she would be married, widowed, and re-married before turning eighteen. For now, she was his lover, but only while the necessity that fueled their coupling remained. He also had to remember that, although her youth encouraged bold, imaginative actions, it could also result in impetuousness and poor judgment. Not that he was any better in those areas. Looking back, there were a multitude of things he could have done differently at Vantok that might have changed the result. The if onlys of life could be devastating to consider in detail.

  “They wanted me to marry Alicia. They had invested a lot of effort into pushing us together so we’d fall in love. Ferguson was the architect of the scheme, believing love to be a powerful motivator. Carannan and Warburm were both in on it. But no one counted on Annie. Warburm initially thought she was a good distraction for me but he became concerned when it was obvious our attachment was more than temporary. She went from sneaking into my room at times for a quick fuck to spending whole nights there to practically moving in with me. Warburm advised me to break it off with her but I wasn’t prepared to listen to his advice. After that, he tried bribing her to leave but she wouldn’t go. She didn’t understand how momentous that refusal would be. So, without really exploring other options, Ferguson took the expedient route and ordered her killed. He was convinced that, with Annie out of the way, his plan could move forward. As it turned out, he was right, but I don’t think he ever recognized how that one act on his part defined his entire character in my mind. He wanted me to be his tool - a subordinate wizard who would act as he saw fit. Killing Annie destroyed any possibility of that.”

  “So this is all about one girl?”

  Sorial bristled. “One girl who was very important to me and who ended up dead by the side of a road because she had the great misfortune of forming an attachment with the wrong person.”

  “If Annie had lived, would you have become a wizard? Settled down with her in a comfortable life, would you have heeded the call to visit the portal?”

  It wasn’t a straightforward question, but Sorial knew that his decision to make the journey to the portal was largely based on the potential it offered for a future with Alicia. Once he’d had Annie, all paths to that future, no matter how remote, would have been closed. “No,” he admitted after a lengthy pause.

  “And if you hadn’t become The Lord of Earth, how much more devastating would the Battle of Vantok have been? How many of those refugees would have survived? Likely both you and Annie would have perished. And probably me as well. Ferguson’s solution was ruthless but his reasoning was sound and the legitimacy of his actions has been borne out by events. Annie was a martyr to the future. Her death, like the deaths of the men who accompanied you to the portal, was the price in blood necessary for you to become a wizard. Ferguson isn’t the devil you make him out to be. He’s single-minded to a fault and coldly practical. If we’re going to defeat Justin, you’re going to have to learn to work with him. Next to you, he’s the most important survivor of Vantok. He’s a member of my council on merit. He offers qualities and capabilities no one else possesses. You’re going to have to come to terms with that. You have the power but he has the knowledge and foresight. As difficult as it might be to orchestrate, there can be another Lord of Earth. There can only be one Ferguson.”

  Sorial recognized a royal command when he heard it. He supposed it was pointless to continue to argue against Ferguson. He believed that Azarak, who had contended endlessly with the prelate, would understand, but Myselene was too new to Vantok. Ferguson was valuable but he was also dangerous. He acted out of zeal and there was nothing he wouldn’t do if it forwarded his cause. Killing Annie was an example - the one that impacted Sorial the most directly, to be sure - but there were others. Ferguson believed himself to be a law unto himself, beholden to none. Sorial feared that, unless the prelate was kept under tight control, there would be many more Annies in the future.

  * * *

  Sorial passed a poor night, tossing and turning so much that Myselene moved away from the warmth of his body in order to get some sleep. It was a restlessness like none he had previously experienced. His dreams were strange and, although he didn’t remember any of them upon waking, their lingering impressions triggered a realization: the portal was again calling to him.

  Once a wizard passed through a portal, the connection was severed and attempting a second passage was certain death. Portals didn’t call back wizards… yet it was happening. He was being drawn to Ibitsal for a reason he couldn’t understand or guess at. This time, it was more subtle than the comecomecome he had experienced in Havenham but it was no easier to dismiss or resist. During his waking hours, it was an itch he couldn’t scratch that became more insistent any time he used magic. At night, it manifested itself in a more demanding way in his subconscious.

  The pull was strong and Sorial wasn’t of a mind to resist it. He needed to understand what was happening. Were Justin, Ariel, and Alicia experiencing the same thing? Was this related to his inability to locate his wife? And would he be feeling the same call from the Havenham portal if he was closer to it or was it only the Ibitsal portal?

  “Night terrors?” asked Myselene as they were preparing to mount the rock wyrm and head deeper into the mountains. They both knew this would be a physically challenging day. They were going places where no human could venture on foot.

  “Of a sort. We’re gonna make a detour,” said Sorial. “Swing around Obis then come back to it.”

  “We don’t have time.”

  “We’ve got to make time. This is too important.”

  An expression of annoyance flickered across Myselene’s features. Once again she felt her authority was being challenged. “I decide what’s important and what isn’t.”

  Sorial inwardly sighed. Myselene was entirely too used to getting her own way. He assumed it was a result of being brought up a princess and then becoming a queen. At the moment, he lacked the patience to coddle this woman or pamper her ego. “I’m being summoned, Your Majesty. By who or what, I don’t know. But it may be of the utmost importance that I respond.”

  “It’s a trap. Something concocted by Justin.”

  That had occurred to Sorial, but he didn’t think it likely. It was too sophisticated and lacked the signature of anything associated with fire. Nevertheless, he would be more cautious this time than on the last occasion when he had blundered into a situation without full awareness of what he was facing. “I don’t think so.”

  “I didn’t think Durth’s banquet was a trap and look how th
at turned out.”

  “It’s different. I don’t know of any kind of magic that can create the pull that’s urging me to Ibitsal.”

  “Ibitsal? Why Ibitsal? And I thought there were gaps in your understanding of what can and can’t be accomplished by magic. Isn’t that why Alicia ventured across the ocean - to fill in those gaps?”

  Sorial wondered whether these were serious concerns on the queen’s part or whether she was just being argumentative. “There’s a portal in Ibitsal. That’s where the summoning originates. I’m not sure why but it at least bears investigation.”

  Myselene was quiet for a moment. She nibbled on her lower lip as she considered. Finally, she shook her head decisively. “No. Obis is more important. But if you’re determined to go on this fool’s errand, you can drop me off there and come back whenever you’re done.”

  Sorial could feel the slow burn of anger. His wellspring of patience, although surprisingly deep for one of his age, wasn’t inexhaustible. “That ain’t gonna work, Your Majesty, and you know it. There’s very little you can accomplish in Obis without me. You need magic to stay in the shadows as you lay the groundwork for your plan. A detour to Ibitsal will cost us no more than two days. But if I leave you alone at Obis, you might be dead by the time I arrive.”

  “So you’re kidnapping me?”

  “Hardly. If you’re adamant about going to Obis, I won’t stop you. It’s not my place to do so. But I won’t help you, either. As soon as we’re out of the mountains, you can head there on foot. After I’m done at Ibitsal, I’ll come back to pick you up since you won’t have gotten there by then. Or you can continue with me and see what’s happening at the portal that demands my attendance.”

  Storm clouds gathered in Myselene’s expression. This wasn’t a woman who appreciated being thwarted but Sorial instinctively knew that facing her displeasure was preferable to ignoring the urging to make haste to Ibitsal. In many ways, she was like Alicia, although his wife had a sharper tongue. Both were domineering. He suspected it had something to do with their upbringing. Or maybe his stubbornness brought out the worst in women.