The Kingdom of Shadow

by Richard A. Knaak

  A frown escaped their host. “Yes . . . yes, I am Juris Khan.”

  “Saints above!” whispered one mercenary.

  “Another ghost!” snapped another.

  Kentril silenced the mercenaries with a swift wave of his hand. He looked to Tsin for confirmation, and although the sorcerer did not respond directly, the Vizjerei’s covetous expression said it all.

  Incredible as it seemed, they had found Juris Khan, he who had been the guiding light of a kingdom considered the most holy of all . . . and a man who should have been as dead as the horrific phantoms that had herded them to this place.

  Herded them?

  “He did it,” Kentril informed the others, advancing on the seated form. “He had them force us here. He’s the one who trapped us so that our only path could be to his palace.”

  If he expected the lord of Ureh to deny the charges, Juris Khan much surprised him. Instead, the regal figure rose quietly from his seat and, arms folded into the voluminous sleeves of his robes, bent his head in what appeared remorse. “Yes. I am responsible. It is through my means that you were forced to come to me . . . but that is because I could not leave here to come to you.”

  “What sort of nonsense—” But Captain Dumon got no farther, for as he finished speaking, Khan reached down, seized his robe, and raised it just enough to reveal his feet.

  Or where they would have been.

  Just above the ankles, the lord of Ureh’s feet melded perfectly into the front legs of the chair, so much so that one could not tell where the man ended and the wood began.

  Juris Khan lowered the robe and, in a most sincere tone, said, “I hope you will forgive me.”

  Even Tsin found this too extraordinary to ignore. “But what does this mean? What about the path to Heaven? The legends say that—”

  “Legends say many things,” Zayl interrupted. “And most of them are found false in the end.”

  “Ours being the falsest of all,” murmured a voice from the darkness to their left.

  Juris Khan reached his hand forward to that darkness, smiling at the one within. “They are what they seem. It is safe to come forth.”

  And from the shadows, the flute player emerged, hooded no more. For the first time, Kentril saw that the flowing garment had hidden a woman, a young and very beautiful woman with smooth skin like alabaster, eyes that gleamed like emeralds even in the faint light of the lamp and his men’s torches, cascading red hair even more vivid than that of the women of his homeland, and an eastern cast to her features that spoke true of her birth in this faraway realm.

  “My friends . . . my daughter, Atanna.”

  Atanna. A name that buried itself there and then in the veteran fighter’s heart. Atanna, the most beautiful of beautiful women Captain Kentril Dumon had ever beheld. Atanna, an angel among mortals . . .

  Atanna . . . the face from the brooch.

  SIX

  “It was betrayal,” Juris Khan told them as Atanna passed to each a goblet filled with wine. “Betrayal from one whom all trusted most.” “Gregus Mazi,” his daughter interjected, seating herself on the floor near Kentril. Her eyes met the captain’s, and for a moment, a brief light seemed to shine in those almond-shaped, emerald orbs, but then the subject at hand doused that light. “Gregus Mazi . . . my father once called him brother of brothers.”

  “He sat at my left hand, as the good priest Tobio sat at my right.” The white-haired lord leaned back, the head of his own goblet cupped in his palms. “To them I gave the glorious task of translating the visions to reality. To them I gave the blessed task to lead us to the sanctuary of Heaven.”

  The mercenaries and the two spellcasters sat on the floor before the imprisoned monarch, fruit and wine brought to each of them by the graceful and beauteous Atanna. After so much bloodshed, so much fear, the entire party gratefully accepted Lord Khan’s hospitality. Besides, many questions needed to be answered, and who better than the legendary ruler of the holy kingdom himself?

  Juris Khan fit very much the mold of a leader. Standing, he had been as tall as Kentril and almost as broad. For one of advanced years, Khan had a youthful appearance and personality and little sign of frailty. Although his features had become weathered, his strong jaw, regal nose, and piercing green eyes still gave him a commanding countenance. Even his long silvering hair did not age the ruler so much as mark his years of wisdom.

  Thinking over his host’s words, Kentril frowned into his wine. “But the legends say that Mazi was left behind by accident, that he spent years trying to join you . . .”

  Juris Khan sighed. “Legends tend to be more fiction than fact, my friend.”

  “So you didn’t make it to Heaven?” asked Tsin, already having downed most of his drink. “The spell failed?” To the captain, the Vizjerei appeared more disappointed in the fact that the magic had not worked than in the fates of the hapless citizenry of Ureh.

  “No. We found ourselves trapped in limbo, trapped in a timeless passage between the earthly plane and our glorious destination . . . and all because of one man’s evil.”

  “Gregus Mazi,” Atanna repeated, her eyes downcast.

  A tremendous desire to comfort her arose in Captain Dumon, but he fought down the urge. “What did he do?”

  “When the time came for the final casting,” the fatherly monarch explained, “Tobio realized that the words did not read right. Their meaning had been reversed, an invitation not to journey to Heaven . . . but to be thrust down into the pits of Hell!”

  Kentril glanced at Zayl, who had been listening as intently as any. The necromancer nodded to him. “In many forms of spellwork, to reverse subtlely the meanings of single words is to reverse the effect. A spell of healing can be made to wound further or even to slay.”

  “Gregus sought to do more than slay us,” murmured Juris Khan. “He sought to damn our very souls . . . and nearly succeeded.”

  The captain thought of the woman next to him cast down into the realm of Diablo and shuddered. Had he been able to, Kentril would have taken the foul Gregus Mazi by the neck and twisted tight until with his eyes the sorcerer would have been able to look down upon his own heels.

  “He would have succeeded,” Atanna added, blushing slightly under Captain Dumon’s gaze, “if not for my father and Tobio.”

  “We tried to respeak the already spoken incantation, reverse what had been reversed, and so, instead of Heaven, instead of Hell, we ended up in the middle of a vast nothingness, that timeless realm from which we could not escape.”

  Snorting, Quov Tsin commented, “You should have recast the spell from there! It would’ve been a simple matter for any well-trained group of Vizjerei, much less—”

  “Not so simple, my friend, when the priests and mages were all slain by the selfsame spell.” A cold look spread over the generally kind features of the ruler of Ureh. “Gregus planned thoroughly. A single line altered also drained swiftly the life force of each chanting the spell except for Tobio and myself. Our superior strength and knowledge saved us but left us weak. Worse, without the others, we lacked the power to recast it.”

  If not able to recast the spell, Juris Khan and the head priest were at least able to expel Gregus Mazi in his moment of triumph. The battle cost Tobio his life, but by sending the traitorous sorcerer away, they prevented him from fulfilling his horrific plan to send Ureh to the realm of the Prime Evils.

  And so the kingdom and its people had floated in the midst of nothingness, time forever locked—until there came a moment when suddenly the world materialized around them again, the world in deep shadow.

  “No one who had lived his life in Ureh would have failed to recognize immediately grand Nymyr and the shade it always cast upon our fair kingdom. With the belief that our curse had abruptly ended, more than twoscore of my people rushed through the front gate without thinking. All they wanted was to feel the sun, feel the soft wind . . .” Khan leaned back, more pale than even the necromancer. “And what they were repaid with was death mos
t horrible.”

  Out into the sun they had raced and therein sealed their fates. The moment the light touched them, they burned. Like chips of mountain ice tossed into a smith’s well-heated forge, the hapless inhabitants of Ureh literally melted away, their screams echoing long after they had been reduced to puddles that themselves evaporated in seconds. Some at the edge managed to cross back into the shadow of the mountain, but in doing so they only worsened their agony, for that which had been touched a breath too long still burned away. In the end, those who had managed to halt in time became forced to slay the shrieking, suffering, half-eaten victims.

  Atanna poured Kentril more wine, giving him a soft smile. However, at the same time, tears coursed down her cheeks. She took up her own untouched goblet and added to her father’s shocking tale. “We had underestimated Gregus Mazi’s monstrosity. That vile serpent had left us no longer a true part of the mortal world. Worse, we began to fear that once the shadow vanished and sunlight touched our home, we would all suffer as the first had.”

  But what would initially be seen as a miracle visited the terrified citizens that next morning, for, as the first glimpse of sunlight came over the horizon . . . the world began to fade away.

  Once more, the nothing of limbo welcomed back the city and its people.

  Although shocked, all agreed that until a solution could be found, exile remained much preferable to the ghastly deaths some had suffered. All looked to their blessed leader, Juris Khan, certain that he would yet discover a way to freedom. Many even took the escape from the burning sunlight as a sign that Heaven had not forsaken them. Somehow, Ureh would either return to the mortal plane safely or continue on its intended journey to the holy realm.

  “And I determined after much study,” Atanna’s father revealed, “that a way did exist at least to anchor us without danger in the real world, for I had also determined that we would be returning there again at some point. With the aid of my precious daughter”—he smiled lovingly at the young, crimson-tressed woman—“skilled in her own way, I worked hard to fashion two unique and mystical gems.”

  Juris Khan handed Atanna his goblet and then, before the eyes of his guests, drew with one finger a fiery circle in the air. In the midst of that blazing ring, a pair of images alternated, a pale crystal as glittering as sun-touched ice and its raven-black twin. Never before had there been two such perfect gemstones, and Captain Dumon and his remaining men both admired and coveted them from the first moment.

  “The Key to Shadow,” Khan uttered, indicating the black one. “The Key to Light,” he added, showing again the icy one. “One placed below Ureh, in the deepest of caverns, the other atop Nymyr, there to catch the first rays of day. Together to tie the shadow now over us, keep it in place at all times so that we may stay here while we seek our final escape.”

  And so, when it came to pass that Ureh did again appear on the mortal plane—just as Juris Khan had predicted—the plan was put into motion. Volunteers were asked for, brave men, ten in all. Five were sent to the depths below, there to find the most dark of the dark places, where shadow had its strongest ties. The other five set out to reach the top of Nymyr, to position the other gem at a place their lord had determined would be the prime location. In addition to the Key to Light, the second group also carried a specially designed pair of tongs so as to avoid the threat of sun. Hopes rose to their fullest as the two parties started out, for truly it seemed that the prayers of the people had been answered.

  Unfortunately, no one had counted on the return of Gregus Mazi.

  It could only be assumed that he had suspected or even detected the presence of those he had so long ago betrayed. When Ureh reformed in the shadows the next time, the corrupt sorcerer already stood waiting just beyond its borders. He discovered the attempt to save the kingdom and quickly followed those who climbed the mountain. There, with words of power, he shattered the very top of the peak with a bolt of lightning, slaying the five.

  That part of his wicked work done, Gregus Mazi then secretly made his way into the palace of his former master. There he caught Khan by surprise.

  “I had scarce time to look up before I realized that he had struck. When I moved to confront him, I found that I and the chair had become one, and we, in turn, had become a part of the palace itself. ‘I leave you to sit and contemplate your failures forever, my lord,’ the foul beast jested to me. ‘And now I go to seal your beloved kingdom’s fate by seizing the second gem deep below and destroying it as I have the first.’ ”

  The robed figure ran a hand through his silvering hair. A tear slipped from one eye. “Understand, my friends, that I loved Gregus as I would’ve my own son. There had been a time when I had thought—” He glanced briefly at Atanna, who reddened. Next to her, Kentril experienced an unwarranted pang of jealousy. “But that is nothing. What matters is that he intended to leave me there, unable to pursue, while he went to destroy the final hopes of all those who had depended on me.”

  Yet Gregus Mazi had underestimated his former master. Weakened, yes. Trapped, surely so. But Khan had another source of strength. He had the people and his love for them. Khan drew from that now, drew from all Ureh. When he struck at the mocking Gregus Mazi, he did so with the raw force of thousands, not a single being.

  “I admit it,” the weary monarch muttered, eyes closing briefly in remembrance and regret. “I struck with anger, struck with hatred, struck sinfully . . . but I also struck with gladness and determination. Gregus had no chance.”

  There had been no body of the traitor to bury or burn; only a few wisps of smoke marked the final moment of he who had cursed the Light among Lights. Unfortunately, although the monster had paid, he had succeeded in again cursing Juris Khan’s beloved kingdom to its horrific exile. Without the crystal in place atop Nymyr, Ureh had no permanent hold in the real world. When dawn broke the next morning, the entire city once more found itself cast into limbo, this time with no hope.

  “I could not remake the crystals, you see,” Khan revealed. “For their formation required elements no longer available to me. Worse, I was now trapped in this chamber, unable to free myself no matter how I tried, depending ever on my loving daughter to care for me.”

  But even confined as he was, Juris Khan did not give up. He had all books, scrolls, and talismans to be found brought to him. He researched spell after spell, hoping that when his kingdom returned to the mortal plane, some aid might be found. On those rare occasions Ureh did reappear, he used scrying stones to seek out any possible help that might have wandered near.

  And so he had this time discovered the presence of Kentril Dumon and the others, already within the very walls of the city.

  “You cannot imagine my delight at finding you! Brave explorers in the heart of my own realm! I knew that I could not pass up this chance, this one hope. I had to bring you to me!”

  Kentril saw in his mind the legions of ghostly figures guiding his group from street to street. “You could’ve chosen a better manner . . .”

  “My father did what he could, captain,” Atanna interjected apologetically. “He could not come to you. He had to do it.”

  “Those were your people?” Zayl asked in a tone that indicated he required no answer. “They are like the dead . . . and yet they are not.”

  The master of Ureh nodded grimly. “Being trapped between Heaven and the mortal plane has taken its toll. We are not quite alive anymore, not quite dead, either. Atanna and I and those others who serve in the palace suffer less so, for the spells that protect and bind this place have helped us, yet even we will eventually turn as they if someone does not help us soon.”

  “Someone,” the fiery-tressed beauty at Kentril’s side murmured, gazing at him.

  “But what can we do?” the mercenary leader blurted to her.

  The smile she gave him seemed to swallow his heart whole. “You can replace the Key to Light.”

  “Replace the crystal?” snapped Quov Tsin. “You said it was destroyed!”

/>   Khan nodded politely to the Vizjerei. “So we had thought. So Gregus had thought. But one time in the past, when I sought help from such as you, I found instead that the Key to Light had not been shattered with the mountaintop. Instead, it had been cast far from its intended location, thrown down the other side of the mountain by the force of the blast.”

  The diminutive sorcerer rubbed his bony chin. “And you’ve not retrieved it? Surely during night, when all is in shadow—”

  “But not the shadow. That first time when we once again beheld our homeland, the very eve after the victims of the sun, I sent a small band out to get the lay of the land, discover what might have occurred. Under cover of night, that surely would have been no difficult task. All I sought was some little knowledge, some hope of a nearby settlement.” He bared his teeth. “The moment the first stepped beyond where Nymyr’s shade would have ended, he, too, burned to death.”

  Atanna placed her hand on Kentril’s own, her eyes asking for understanding and assistance. “We’re well and truly trapped, captain. Our world ends just beyond the walls of the city. Were I to step one inch farther, I would risk the flesh melting from my bones, my bones incinerating to ash.”

  Against those eyes, that face, Captain Dumon could not struggle. He slipped his hand on top of hers, then faced Juris Khan. “Can we reach the crystal? Can we get it in place in time?”

  Hope lit the elder man’s expression. “You will do this for us? You will help us? I promise a king’s reward for each if you can do this!”

  Jodas nearly choked on his wine. The moods of the other fighters brightened. Here seemed a quest harsh but doable and with much gain to be made. At once, each volunteered, leaving only Zayl and Tsin silent.

  “We don’t all need to go,” Kentril told the others. “Gorst, I need you definitely. Jodas, you can climb well. Brek, Orlif, you come with us also. Albord, you’re in charge of the rest.”

  Some of those to be left behind started to complain, but Khan silenced their concerns by stating, “If this miracle is done for us, all shall share in the reward, I promise.”