The War of Stardeon (The Bowl of Souls)

by Cooley, Trevor H.

  “Deathclaw’s sister is somewhere nearby. I just sent him and Gwyrtha to find her,” Justan said.

  “I feared this might happen eventually,” Coal said. “If Ewzad Vriil has sent her after us, she could be accompanied by a much larger force.”

  “That’s what I'm afraid of,” Justan said. In truth, Talon alone was scary enough. If she was able to evade them, she could terrorize their whole party, killing off individuals one by one.

  “She will attack the women and childrens!” Fist said in sudden realization and Justan swore. He was right. That’s exactly what she would do.

  “Fist, head down and watch over them. Let me know the minute you or Squirrel sense anything!” Fist nodded and ran towards the center of the encampment where most of the women and children slept.

  “Bettie is headed there as well,” Coal said. “She’s dragging Lenny and his dwarf friends with her.”

  Shouts rang out somewhere in the distance.

  “Are we under attack?” Coal wondered.

  “I don’t think so. Deathclaw and Gwyrtha are out tracking Talon’s scent and they didn’t sense any other threats nearby.” Talon’s trail had meandered about. They were currently somewhere just east of the camp in the foothills.

  “I don’t smell anything either,” Samson said.

  “We should tell Sir Lance what’s going on,” Justan said. He didn’t relish the thought. Sir Lance was difficult to deal with. Any issue that came up, be it their speed of pace or their food reserves or whatever else, the old warrior seemed to place the blame on the shoulders of Justan and Coal. This particular problem actually was something they had brought with them which would make it worse.

  They headed towards Lance’s tent at the center of the refugee encampment, but before they reached it Aldie intercepted them. The man was pale and sweating, but his eyes and voice were firm as he spoke.

  “We are under attack! At the rear there are reports of packhorses with their bellies torn open. Several men on watch are injured. One of them had half his face ripped off! He says it was some kind of snake woman. As I ran up here there was more yelling coming from the west side of the camp!”

  Coal jumped up on Samson’s back. “I’ll go see if I can treat any wounded. Edge, coordinate our defenses with Lance.”

  Justan nodded and the wizard galloped off. It was so strange. How could Talon pull off so many attacks so quickly? And all over the camp? It spoke of multiple attackers, but his bonded had only sensed her.

  “Tell me again, Aldie, where did these things happen and in what order?” Justan asked.

  “Uh . . . first there were the watchmen, I guess,” Aldie said.

  “Where were they?”

  “On the east side, watching the foothills.”

  Justan nodded. “Alright, and then the packhorses at the south end, right? Then you just heard commotion to the west so . . . she’s running. Making a loop around the perimeter of the camp. Attacking as quickly as she can and moving on.”

  Deathclaw, how old is that trail? Justan asked

  Fresh! No more than fifteen minutes.

  Get back here. That trail’s too old! She’s here attacking right now and she’s headed . . . back towards our camp!

  Justan ran back the way he had come, Aldie running at his heels. What was Talon doing? She must have first set off into the foothills to give Deathclaw and Gwyrtha something to chase, then returned back to reveal her scent to the camp. Then as soon as Deathclaw left, she ran around the encampment, causing commotions all for what? Just to draw them away from their camp? But what was she going to do there?

  He thought of Alfred and Stanza left alone by the tents, but would she go through all that trouble just to kill their horses? What else was there she could possibly want? Then it came to him. Qyxal’s body. They had left a preserved elven corpse sitting there with the rest of the saddlebags. How could he have been so stupid? A few elven herbs had helped power the golem. What could Ewzad Vriil do with an entire elf body?

  The startled whinny of the warhorses told him he had been right. He ran into their campsite and there she was. Talon heard his footsteps and froze, hunched over his pack. She had torn it open and half its contents were scattered in the dirt.

  She’s here! Justan sent. He pulled his swords and heard Aldie gasp as he saw her. “Aldie, get out of here.”

  “But I can help. I-.”

  Talon looked over her shoulder at them and Justan could tell that Ewzad had made some changes. Her eyes were different, more cat-like and her mouth . . . Her lips pulled back in a smile, revealing a mouth full of curved teeth.

  “No. Sstay, human,” she said, her voice a throaty hiss. Justan was glad his swords absorbed his fear. He hadn’t expected her to speak. She stood and turned to face them and Justan saw that even more changes had been made. Why had Ewzad done that? Why had he made her look even more womanlike? She stepped towards them, clicking her long claws together and giving her hips a sultry sway. “I can eatss both of you.”

  “Run, Aldie,” Justan said, stepping towards her, his swords at the ready.

  If his sword had not been siphoning his emotions away, he would have been terrified. Instead he was able to carefully analyze her movements. He noticed that she carefully kept her tail out of his line of sight and how she walked slowly so that his guard would be down when she struck.

  “Why are you here, Talon?”

  Her eyes grew wide, her voice high pitched. “To killss you, Jusstan, sson of Faldon the Fierce. You have been marked for death!”

  It was as if time slowed down for him. He saw her begin to roll forward, launching her tail barb towards his throat. He dodged right, sending his left sword in a sweeping slice. The razor edge caught her tail just below the barb and sheared through.

  In the precise moment his sword touched her, time stood still for both of them. Talon felt all her excitement, anticipation, and fear vanish. The slice of the sword caused no pain, yet she felt it split her flesh. The lack of emotion sent a numb shock through her brain.

  Justan felt Talon’s emotions sucked away by his left sword and in that brief instant he understood something about her. Something important. Then the sword cleared her flesh, sending the barb spinning off into the dirt.

  All of the emotion and shock rushed back in for Talon. She completed her forward roll and sprang to her feet, letting out a bloodcurdling screech.

  Justan stepped back and moved his swords into defensive position. His blow had struck fear into her. He had stolen her emotions away for only an instant, but for a creature like Talon, that was a grievous wound.

  “No, Misstress. No! He takess!” She backed away from him, hands out, pleading and for the first time Justan noticed the shriveled sphere embedded in her arm. There was something strange about it. Something . . . He switched to mage sight, then spirit sight.

  Talon paused, her head cocked, pure agony twisting her nightmarish features. Then she crouched down to gather her strength and launched her body towards him, her claws swiping.

  Justan dodged to the side, having anticipated her attack, but she was too fast. Her claws tore through his jacket and sliced into his skin, leaving three furrows along his chest just under the frost rune. Justan felt the damage, but his sword drained the pain and he had the clarity of mind to swing his right sword in a downward slash. The blade struck her forearm right above the embedded sphere.

  In that moment, he released all the energy pent up in his sword in a concussive blast. Talon’s arm blew apart and the force of the blast sent her sprawling into the fire.

  Burning tinder scattered. She arched her back in the coals, squirming, then rolled to her feet. She screeched and ran into the trees, her scales smoking, blood spurting from the shreds of flesh that hung ragged where her elbow should have been.

  Justan watched her disappear into the darkness and sheathed his swords. Immediately he felt the burning pain of the deep scratches on his chest. He turned and looked behind him to see Aldie standing there,
jaw dropped in wonder.

  “Go. Tell everyone that the beast will not bother them again tonight,” he said. Aldie nodded and ran towards his father’s tent.

  Deathclaw and Gwyrtha appeared a moment later and Justan pointed in the direction Talon had gone. Gwyrtha stopped briefly to give him an apologetic look and then took off, Deathclaw still clinging to her back.

  It’s okay, Gwyrtha. Just track her down.

  What happened? Deathclaw asked, and Justan sent a compressed version of his memory to all three of them. He sent it a bit too fast and Gwyrtha stumbled. Fist almost fell. Then, for the first time, Deathclaw sent Justan something that felt like approval through the bond. You did well.

  Justan searched around with his spirit sight until he saw a faint glow at the base of one of the trees. There lay the end of Talon’s arm, a thin white nimbus surrounding the shriveled orb that still clung to the shreds of muscle at the edge of the stump.

  He picked it up by the wrist and stared at the orb. Somehow, Talon’s master must have been speaking to her through it. But why did it look familiar to him? It didn’t matter. He had a message to deliver. “We are coming for you, Ewzad Vriil,” he said and tossed it into the remnants of the fire.

  Justan walked around the fire, kicking back in the live coals that Talon had scattered and tossing some fresh wood on the top. Let the wizard think on that for a while. Meanwhile, they would get the Sampo refugees safely to the caverns behind Wobble and start waging war on his siege.

  The flesh of Talon’s arm smoked and blackened. The orb swelled a bit, then burst open with a sound that sounded eerily like the cry of an infant. Justan shivered and resisted the urge to grasp the handle of his sword.

  He felt Fist walking up behind him before the ogre laid his hand on his shoulder. Justan didn’t, however, expect Fist to spin him around and lift him in a huge hug. Justan grunted and patted him awkwardly on the back.

  The ogre placed him back on the ground. “When I knew you were fighting her I was scared.”

  Justan smiled. “I was the one scared. If not for my swords, she would have killed me.”

  “Why was she here?” Fist asked.

  “I don’t know.” He walked over to the saddlebags and crouched by his torn and scattered pack. “I thought she came for Qyxal’s body, but she didn’t even touch him. She went for this.”

  He picked up the few shirts and pairs of pants that Talon had thrown out. What was she looking for? He started pulling things out and setting them aside until his fingers brushed something cold. He jerked his arm out, feeling ill. “What was that?”

  “What is it, Justan?” Fist asked, peering over his shoulder.

  Justan moved a few things away carefully until a cloth wrapped bundle was all that remained. He reached for it, but just before his hand touched the metal, he remembered. “The dagger. How did I forget the dagger?”

  Coal stared at the dark dagger over steepled fingers. No one had wanted to touch the thing until finally Lenny had retrieved it and unwrapped it with a pair of tongs. Now it lay in the dirt a few feet from the fire, the rubies in its hilt gleaming in the firelight. Its blade was stained brown, caked with dried blood.

  “This is it. It’s the one. The proof we need,” Coal said.

  “How can you be sure?” Justan asked. He ran his fingers through the tears in his ruined shirt and ran them over his skin where Talon had cut him. Coal had healed the wounds but his skin tingled as if they were still there.

  “The Dark Prophet had just six of these daggers made; one for each of his high priests. Each one was set with different gems. This ruby dagger was the one Dann Doudy presented to the king and court as evidence that Willum’s parents sacrificed his grandfather to the Dark Prophet.”

  “But what’re we provin’?” asked Lenny. “So Vriil had the dagger that killed his daddy. That don’t prove he was usin’ it.”

  “Ah, but this dagger was supposed to be taken away and destroyed. The king ordered Dann Doudy to take care of it personally.” Coal said. “At the very least, rescuing such an evil thing from destruction is a crime vile enough to have Doudy stripped of rank and title. As for Ewzad? We have two highly accountable men in our own party that saw the dagger used in Ewzad’s throneroom. Not to mention any others that survived the ordeal. Elise herself said that she found it in Ewzad’s study.”

  “Well, Queen Elise isn’t likely to remember it that way anymore,” Justan said. “By all reports, she is with him now. All she would have to do is say it didn’t happen. The nobles wouldn’t take our word over hers.”

  “You’re right,” Coal said. “Unless we had the academy and Mage School councils at our side. Then the nobles would hand him over without a fight.”

  “So,” Justan said. “What we need to do is break the siege, convince the academy that Ewzad was behind it, then fight our way to the Mage School and convince them as well.”

  They all stared blankly into the fire for a few moments.

  “It is a difficult challenge,” Coal said finally. “But we have the evidence we need and that’s a start.”

  “So what do we do with that thing in the meantime?” Bettie asked, nodding towards the dagger.

  “I don’t like being around it,” Justan said. “I still have no idea why I kept forgetting I had the thing. There must have been half a dozen times since taking it from Ewzad’s castle that I meant to tell you about it.”

  “The dagger is directly linked to the Dark Prophet,” Coal said. “Look at it with your spirit sight and you will see. It actively uses spirit magic to influence those around it. I wouldn’t be surprised if your foul moods were partially the fault of sitting near that dagger all day.”

  Justan saw a smoky cloud-like haze around the dagger, but where other spirit magic was white, this was black as soot.

  “But what if we just all forget it is there?” Fist asked.

  “I don’t think that’s possible,” Master Coal said. “It has too great an importance to our mission now. Most likely Edge would not have forgotten it if he had known. It’s a lot easier to influence someone when they are unaware.”

  “Have Lenui carry it,” Bettie decided.

  “What the? I don’t want the dag-blasted thing!” Lenny protested.

  “Dwarfs are resistant to magic, right?” she said. “Just wrap it in leather and put it in your pack. You’ll be fine.”

  “She’s right,” Coal said. “I should have thought of that.”

  “You shoud’ve?” Lenny grumped, eyeing the dagger with disgust. “Confound it all, don’t I get a say in this?”

  “No you don’t!” Bettie said.

  “Lenny, if you don’t want to carry it, we won’t make you,” Justan said. “I carried it this far, I can carry it again. Just . . . keep reminding me that I have it this time.”

  “Alright, you squirmy manipulatin’ son of a weasel! I’ll carry the stupid dagger!” Lenny snapped. He walked over and picked it up with his tongs, then stormed over to his pack.

  “What about Talon?” Samson asked. “Have they found her yet?”

  Justan sighed. “Deathclaw and Gwyrtha are still searching. They followed her blood trail for a while but each time they were sure they had caught up to her, she somehow evaded them. Then she stopped bleeding and now the only evidence they can find is the odd track. Deathclaw thinks that she has somehow found a way to turn her scent on and off when she wants to.”

  Me too!

  “Gwyrtha agrees,” he added.

  “That is bad,” Fist said. “She could come back.”

  “We will have to be prepared,” Coal said. “There are simple wards that I could place that would warn us if she came near the camp. If I make them powerful enough, they might even injure her. You would have to show Deathclaw where they were, though. And we’d have to warn everyone else in the camp.”

  “Definitely,” Samson said, “We don’t want any women running to Sir Lance because her baby walked into one.”

  “And what if Talon ret
urns to Ewzad and he sends an army after us?” Bettie asked.

  “Wouldn’t worry yer head ‘bout that,” Lenny said. He had pulled a mirror out of his pack and was examining the length of his still-growing mustache. “In just a couple day’s ride, we’re gonna disappear.”

  “You keep saying that,” Justan said. “But I really don’t see how we’re going to take two thousand people into that crevasse without leaving any evidence of where we went.”

  “Dwarf ingenuity!” Bettie said. “That’s what he’ll say. And I don’t believe it either.”

  “Gall-durn it, woman, I done told you already! Trust me!”

  “Trust your loud mouth?” Bette yelled.