Shadowmage

by Matthew Sprange

  A sharp pain blasted inside his head, and he reeled, feeling as though his mind was being squeezed by a giant hand. Staggering, he fell to the floor, trying to take in air, but discovering his lungs no longer worked as they should. Suddenly, the gripping agony was gone, and he sucked in precious breath, leaning against the table on which he had been standing for support as he tried to gather his mental energies to launch another attack.

  He raised a shaky hand, and fire rolled down his arm. With a flick, he sent the ball of flame flying across the warehouse towards the creatures now scampering toward him but, as he watched, it simply snuffed out of existence before it reached them. Frowning in confusion, he took a step back, raising his sword defensively, and he felt the threads of power twist out of his reach, seeming to fly away from his grasp at speed.

  The creatures started to circle round him and, as they parted, he saw one different from the rest. With greying scales, it walked with a stooped gait, and held a coral-encrusted staff upon which it leaned for support. Its eyes were milky and without any life, and yet Lucius knew the creature was watching him.

  Raising the staff, the creature pointed its end at him. The pain came once again, forcing him to the ground as he clutched at his head, trying to pull his own skull apart to relieve the pressure. He grabbed, helplessly at an elusive thread, even as his sword slipped from his twitching fingers, but the magic would not come to him. Lucius raised his head to stare up at the grey creature as it approached, shuffling its clawed feet across the stone floor. He raised a hand, hoping — praying — that so much as a tiny ball of fire would come to fingers. But just as the thread started to jerk towards his will, the creature waved its staff in a tight, circular motion. The magic just fled, disappearing into the darkest recesses of his mind. It was quickly replaced by the agony, and he screamed in pain and terror as he grovelled on the floor.

  Opening his eyes, Lucius saw a claw just inches from his face, and he looked up to see the grey creature staring soullessly down upon him. Its coral staff pointed down at his forehead. He was paralysed, utterly unable to order any of his limbs to move, and he began to gasp for air as his lungs and heart began, slowly to shut down. Tears came to his eyes as the pain intensified and he tried to mouth a curse at the creature, but no words came.

  His world exploded then, and Lucius thought the end had finally come for him, that the light and sound was part of the journey to Kerberos where he would meet his family and roam among the clouds forever more as a free spirit. It was not until the greying creature collapsed next to him, its milky eyes ruptured and oozing a dark black liquid, that he realised he was still alive.

  The pain and agony were gone, and with his heart pumping to restore the flow of blood to his body, Lucius managed to claw his way to his knees as he looked about him. It was a scene of complete chaos and carnage.

  Panicked, the creatures were moaning in a strange alien tongue as they ran, seeking shelter from something near the main entrance. He struggled to his feet to get a better look, but was forced back down as the warehouse wall behind the trap door exploded inwards, nails and shards of wood whipping through the air to shred the fleeing creatures. As debris rained down, Lucius saw four figures standing outside the warehouse, each gesturing at the creatures and each gesture was followed by a wave of magical energy. Fire and lightning, stone and ice lashed out at the creatures as they were consumed by the onslaught.

  The figures walked steadily into the warehouse, annihilating any creature they saw and any human foolish enough to attack them. Lucius stared, open-mouthed as he recognised Master Forbeck at their head, his genial face now a mask of hatred and vengeance as he wreathed himself in fire, sending out bolts of multihued flame to engulf every creature that dared to make its way past him.

  Near the main entrance, some of the creatures were trying to follow thieves out into the streets, but a solitary figure stood at the threshold, hurling ice and blasts of solid air at any that made the attempt, while planting a sword into any who survived the maelstrom, and Lucius cried out loud in relief when he recognised Adrianna. Stumbling across the warehouse, he ran to greet her.

  The battle was over within seconds, and an eerie silence fell across the shattered remains of the warehouse punctuated only by the moans of injured thieves. A few remaining creatures croaked as life fled from their dull eyes, and able-bodied thieves were only too happy to hurry them to their deaths.

  Breathing heavily, Lucius stopped as he reached Adrianna, who stared down at him imperiously, and he thought he might be in for another of her jibes or criticisms. Then she smiled, warmly.

  "One day, Lucius, you may curb your ability to get yourself into trouble."

  "But not today," a voice said behind him, and he turned to face Forbeck. The master was flanked by three young men and even if he had not seen their display just a few minutes earlier, Lucius would have known they were Shadowmages from the magic he sensed emanating from them. He realised he was standing before practitioners of great power.

  "What..." Lucius started. "Not that I am ungrateful, but what you are doing here?"

  Forbeck nodded to the corpse of one of the creatures, it's back arched as though still in agony. "We heard a Shadowmage was in trouble, had brought more down upon his head than he could handle."

  "You knew about these things?"

  "We suspected," Forbeck shrugged. "And we had you as a witness to their activities previously. It bore further investigation. When Adrianna released herself from the Guild's contract, it allowed us to take a legitimate interest in what was going on. Though we are still unclear on exactly what that is."

  "This may help," Adrianna said. As she stepped to one side, Lucius' gaze was caught by a motionless form on the floor behind her. Jewel.

  "She's still alive though, I suspect, she may regret that when you take her back to your guildhouse."

  "You are handing her to us?" Lucius asked, visions of vengeance suddenly flashing through his mind.

  "We are neither thieves nor inquisitors," Forbeck said. "You'll get more out of her than we will. I trust that, as one of us, you will keep us informed of anything we need to know."

  Lucius turned back to Adrianna. "Thank you. I mean it. For everything."

  She sniffed, avoiding his eyes for a moment. "Just remember your promise to me."

  EPILOGUE

  The shadows cast by the single lantern hanging in the centre of the low ceiling did nothing to hide the baleful malice of Jewel's glare, the hatred she bore for all of them was plainly visible. The greater part of her enmity she held for Lucius, the wreck of the left side of her face a twisted mass of burned and ravaged flesh. Her left eye seemed slow to react, but its twin was as fast as ever, seeming to almost glow with smouldering fury whenever Lucius walked in front of her.

  He was impressed. With the concoctions she had been plied with, recipes brewed by the expert interrogators of the Night Hands, the woman should have been barely conscious, mumbling truthful replies to every question set before her. Instead, she still spat curses, promising slow death to them all. Elaine was getting impatient.

  "Has she been trained to resist?" she demanded as she limped to Lucius' side to stare Jewel full in the face. Her stomach was wreathed in bandages, the legacy of a single thrust from Loredo's sword that had skittered across her lower ribs, smashing one. The guildmaster had fared far less well in their duel, falling to the ground with both of Elaine's swords jutting from his chest. "Has she taken something that nullifies our potions?"

  Wendric shrugged. "Either is possible. Or both. For the latter, we may need to just wait for the effects of the counteragent to subside."

  "We should increase the dosage," Elaine said flatly.

  "No," said Lucius. "She has already taken more than you or I could bear. And I want to know what she knows."

  Folding her arms, Elaine regarded the other woman. "She's playing us. We should move to more direct means."

  Lucius guessed that Elaine had been itching to say that
since they had brought Jewel into the bowels of the guildhouse two days ago. A few yards above them, in the common room and throughout the permitted areas of the guildhouse, thieves still celebrated, getting drunk and retelling stories of their rise to victory. The tales grew with each telling, but no one objected. From daring hits on the Guild's enforcers to the final assault on the guildhouse, every thief had the opportunity to become a hero.

  Elaine had granted the Hands a week of celebration, but had made it painfully clear that open Council sessions were a thing of the past and that anyone defying her law as guildmaster would answer for it. She had been accepted smoothly enough, and even Lucius had avoided too many awkward questions, such was the elation throughout the guild. That, he knew, would likely not last.

  Picking a knife off the single table in the small, dank room, Elaine crossed back over to Jewel and held the blade in front of the woman's face.

  "It will do no good to work on her face," Elaine said, trying to goad her. "You already worked her over well, Lucius. She might have been pretty once, but now she looks like a freak. Like one of those creatures we slaughtered. Remember those? The ones we threw back into the sea."

  Silently, Lucius shook his head. He had a fair idea that Jewel had never concerned herself with looking good and that, if anything, those scars aided her line of work. For her part, Jewel just held Elaine's gaze, her face completely neutral and without emotion, except her eyes, which spoke of nothing but promised agony.

  "No, we must do something more... permanent, I think," Elaine declared. "Perhaps a few tendons cut, or the loss of a few fingers. That would bother you, wouldn't it, bitch? Not being able to kill any more. Life wouldn't be worth living."

  Jewel muttered something then, but it was lost by Wendric's caustic comment. "I think she could learn to kill if you removed all her limbs. And maybe her head too."

  Lucius held up a hand to silence him, and leaned over Jewel. Though she was tightly bound to the chair they had placed her in, he still did not get too close. He did not expect her to spit acid or poison into his face, but it would not surprise him if she did.

  "What was that? What did you say, Jewel?"

  With utter contempt, she stared back up at him and, for a moment, he thought she was going to fall silent again.

  "I said, you are all dead and you don't even know it."

  "We were the ones that won the war, Jewel," said Elaine. "You might have trouble recognising defeat, I realise, but what you are feeling right now, that is it. Wendric, give her another dose."

  "I told you, she is already dangerously high."

  "Apparently not," said Lucius. "Go on. Risk it. She's no good to us silent."

  Grabbing a small opaque vial from the table, Wendric stood over Jewel, and regarded her as he held the vial aloft.

  "We've done this before. You can have it easy, or have it hard." As he reached down, she twisted as far as her straps would allow.

  "Hard then," Wendric said, grabbing Jewel's nose and wrenching her head back. For a minute he held her like that, waiting for her to draw breath through her mouth, but she remained resolutely still. Losing his patience, Wendric punched her hard in the stomach and, when this elicited the required response, drove the vial between her teeth, emptying its contents before slamming her mouth shut.

  Still Jewel held out, twisting to break his grasp as a trickle of the potion ran from the corner of her mouth. She was finally defeated by the basic need for air, and Wendric finally released her when they heard her swallow.

  For a moment, she gasped for breath, then spat at their feet. For a few seconds, her eyes lost focus and her head began to sway.

  "It's beginning to work," Lucius said, taking a step forward. Then, as if a torch had been snuffed out, the dullness disappeared from her eyes and she snapped back in her restraints, staring past them as if watching something a great distance away. Both Lucius and Elaine looked at Wendric, but he just shrugged.

  Lucius crouched until he was at her eye level, but she just seemed to stare right through him.

  "Jewel, how did you contact those creatures?"

  "They contacted us."

  "What did you offer to get them working for the Guild?"

  "Idiot."

  Behind Lucius, Wendric smirked. "If the truth drugs are working, I would say that gives you little credit."

  Ignoring him, Lucius pressed on. "Jewel, what are they."

  "The power of the ancients, the rulers of the past," she said, then added an afterthought. "And the future."

  "I don't understand."

  Jewel sighed then, long and exaggerated, as if failing to get through to an ignorant child. He decided to try a different tact.

  "What do they want?"

  "Everything."

  "What do you mean, everything? All the gold in the city? The city itself? The Empire?"

  "Everything."

  "That doesn't make sense, Jewel," he said, wishing the others would join in. "Why would they fight alongside you? What could you offer?"

  "Revenge. A tip in the balance."

  He stopped, thinking that one through. Turning, he faced Wendric. "Does she have to be this literal?"

  "It works differently for everyone," Wendric shrugged. "Some appear drunk, others desperate to please. I always thought it was a reflection of the personality, though I am not sure what that says about her."

  Scratching his head, Lucius confronted Jewel again. "You said they wanted to tip the balance. You weren't paying them in gold or goods, were you?"

  "Of course not." Again, that exasperated tone.

  A thought struck him as he saw her head begin to sag. "Jewel, listen to me. They weren't working for you, right? You were doing their bidding."

  "We served them."

  "But why?"

  "Idiot."

  "She presumes the answer is obvious," said Wendric.

  "Yes, thank you Wendric, I am beginning to get that," Lucius replied testily. "They served something more powerful than them because they would be rewarded. I withdraw the question - happy?"

  In response Wendric shrugged as Elaine pushed past him. As Jewel's eyes began to close, she slapped the woman hard across the face. The sharp sting of pain seemed to revive Jewel and, for a moment, she seemed lucid.

  "What are they, Jewel?" Elaine asked. "What do we have to fear from them?"

  "They have been here forever," Jewel said slowly. "They commanded us and we obeyed, for that is the only way to survive the war."

  "The war is over Jewel," Lucius said. "You lost."

  "No, the war has gone on for centuries, and will continue until every man and woman is dead or lies enslaved at their feet."

  Wendric cleared his throat. "I recall hearing stories of the Older Races, those that came before man, and the great empires they built. Is that what you mean?"

  "Idiot," Jewel spat. "They were ancient when elf and dwarf walked this world. They fought them too, and won. Now it is our turn."

  "But why?" Elaine asked.

  "Because they understand hatred. Because they know it is not enough to simply exist."

  "What do you mean?" Elaine pressed, but Jewel's head was beginning to hang to one side, as if it were too heavy for her neck. When Elaine shook her, they all saw a slither of froth between her lips.

  "She's going," Wendric said. "I warned you."

  "Stay with us, Jewel!" Elaine demanded, shaking her harder. "What do you mean by that, why is it not enough for them to just exist?"

  Jewel coughed, flecks of bloodied spittle flying across Elaine's face. Her words were barely more than a whisper, forced from her throat by the power of the drugs alone.

  "Our presence is an affront to them. War has come, but now they can join the old power with the new. Now, they are unstoppable."

  "I don't understand," Elaine said. "What do they want? What are they, Jewel?"

  She slapped the woman again to bring her back to consciousness, then shook her when she failed to respond, until Lucius laid a h
and on her arm. Jewel had stopped breathing.

  "It's too late, Elaine."

  "Damn her!" Elaine spat, as she pushed away from Jewel's body and stalked across the room in frustration. "She told us nothing!"

  "She told us little," Lucius corrected her, but Elaine was in no mood to be placated.

  "Riddles and fairy tales! And you Wendric," she said, turning on her new lieutenant. "You should know better than to spout myths about goblins and elves!"

  He seemed ready to respond, but wisely kept silent. Lucius was lost in his own thoughts as he tried to piece together what Jewel had told them. Could her words be trusted? If she had the power to resist the truth drugs, did she also have the power to defy them outright? Still, he had witnessed the power the creatures from the sea wielded and that scared him more than he cared to admit to either of his fellow thieves.

  Either way, he had just got this guild back onto its feet, and he was not about to let anything tear it back down. Even if the threat lay at the bottom of the ocean.

  THe End

  Matthew Sprange

  With a solid history in roleplaying and miniatures game design, Matthew Sprange has written over three dozen gaming books, including the Babylon 5 and Judge Dredd roleplaying games, and has won two Origins Awards for his miniatures games. Shadowmage is his third novel.