The peace was sundered, suddenly and violently, by a column of fire shooting into the sky. The blast of air that followed blew the snow from the tree branches, and the resultant snowfall became rain as the flakes were melted in mid-air.
The Gryphons had jumped to their feet at the roar of the flame. All knew how their Captain would be arriving, but even so there were no few hands on sword hilts as the Gryphons watched the Far Door at the center of the clearing warily. The heat of the roaring, snapping dome of fire could be felt even at the treeline, and the ground of the clearing was now bereft of snow, all of it melted to show the dead, brown grass beneath. In an instant, the serene winter forest had become a strange, unsettling place.
Darius was the first to emerge from the fire, and the Gryphons let out a collective sigh of relief, unhanding their weapons. Some even sat down to continue their meal. Most kept watching though, as more and more figures followed Darius from the burning portal. Each, save Darius himself, wore the robes of a wizard. Pollis's eyes began to bulge in amazement as they kept coming, six, seven, eight – gathering outside the spell and looking back. They did not stop until there were ten wizards standing in the clearing. The final one to emerge turned back towards the spell. It died, leaving the glade lit only by sunlight.
From the newly-created circle of charred earth, the wizards approached the soldiers. Each wore a pack much like that of the Gryphons, lacking only the weapons. The Gryphons were carrying two blades each, one short and one long, and half of them had stout spears as tall as a man. The wizards, of course, needed no such things and were deadlier than a hundred men together – and there were ten of them! Pollis had never heard of so many gathered for anything short of a major battle.
He strode forward to greet his leader, clapping his fist to heart in a salute. "Welcome, Captain! You are right on time."
"Thank you Pollis," Darius responded, returning the salute. Some of the other wizards looked amused to see him do so, no doubt unused to seeing a wizard use military manners – few of them had been around Darius when he was with his troops.
Darius introduced the other wizards to his lieutenant.
"I did not expect you to have so much company," Pollis admitted with a grin. Darius returned the smile, if more subdued.
"All of it necessary, I'm afraid. How are the men?"
"Well rested, sir, we've been here for a day already. We've all had time to study the drawing you gave me. They are as ready as can be."
"Good. We will attack shortly after dark – the men can rest until sundown. I must speak to them, now, though."
Pollis and Darius trotted over to the soldiers, the rest of the wizards trailing them at a walk. Pollis had seen in their expressions a mix of emotions: apprehension, expectation, excitement... whatever was going to happen at sundown, it was sure to be big.
"On your feet, boys! The Captain's got some words for you!" Pollis called, and the soldiers snapped to attention, clustering closer to hear their commander speak.
"Gryphons! In a few hours, we will be amongst the Enemy," Darius began. "We will not march to them."
The soldiers laughed – the closest warrior of Pyre was at least a week's hard travel distant.
"We will move by magic, just as I came here. This spell requires you to run into fire – you will feel the heat, but you will not be harmed. Steel yourself for it, prepare your courage." Darius opened his mouth to speak again – and Pollis saw him hesitate. The Captain's mouth hung open and silent for the briefest of moments, and the gaze moved from one soldier to the next before Darius spoke. Pollis knew his commander had decided, at the last moment, to leave something out.
"Rest now," Darius said. "Sleep if you can. It may be awhile before we can do so again."
As the men dispersed, Pollis strode over to his captain. "Sir!"
Darius turned, and Pollis moved close and lowered his voice to barely above a whisper. "What were you going to say, just then?"
The wizard's eyebrows twitched in surprise that Pollis had noticed his momentary lapse, then a tiny smile appeared on his face. "I was going to tell them of what we are to do, Pollis. But I decided that it will be easier for them to rest without knowing just yet."
"May I know, sir?"
The smile grew. "I'm sorry, Lieutenant. You'll have to learn with the rest of the men. I will say that it's important – but I daresay you knew that already."
Pollis gave a pointed look at the nine other wizards clustered behind Darius. "Yes sir, I think so," he said dryly, and returned to the other soldiers.
Darius's smile disappeared as soon as Pollis turned away. He gestured to the other wizards to follow him towards one edge of the encampment, near enough so that it would seem they were joining the soldiers – but far enough so they could speak without being overheard.
"You didn't tell them," Ethion said as they walked.
"No. I couldn't – I couldn't say it," Darius said with a tiny shake of his head.
Alexander stepped closer. "I think it is for the best, Darius. If even one of the men disagrees, or raises too many questions, it could cause us trouble. We're too close for that."
"My men don't cause trouble," Darius said absently.
"We'll need to tell them something," said Ethion.
"Yes. I will. Before we depart," replied Darius, and they spoke no more of it. They reached the treeline and divested themselves of their packs, removing bedrolls to lay upon the forest floor. To the side many of the soldiers were disappearing into tents – a soldier knew the value of rest before battle. A bare few still ate, and some were working with the felled timbers, cutting notches to make the eventual barricades easier to assemble. Darius vacantly watched their industry as he sat.
"There is one more question to answer," Alexander said from behind him. Darius turned to see the man had lain his bedroll at the base of a tree and was sitting against it, addressing the lot of them.
"The ritual only requires nine of us," he said. The rest nodded. It was one of the things they knew without knowing how – a simple fact that had the feeling of being self-evident, but attempts to think of a reason boggled the mind. It was like trying to explain why one and one was two.
"I will remain apart," Darius said, and all heads turned to him in surprise.
"You are sure?" said one. "We could draw lots."
Darius shook his head. "No, it is unnecessary. I am used to fighting alongside my men. None of you are. If they need orders they should come from me. I will not take part in the ritual."
Pendrick looked sad as he spoke up. "But all of this is your doing..."
"All that matters to me is that we succeed. This is how best to do it."
There was no further discussion on the matter – the other wizards accepted his decision. Despite his words and his reasons, Darius did wish he could be a part of Angelic magic. To wield the powers of the Choirs! It was no small draw for him. For some of the others, it might be one of the most attractive parts of the whole endeavor. With a tinge of dismay, Darius remembered Aethel's words.
I must believe they accept the consequences, Darius thought, hardening his heart. Those who don't are fools, and I will little mark anything that befalls a fool.
Eventually, they all lay down, attempting to sleep. Darius did as well, but only his body was still.
***
After one more stroke, Arric replaced the quill into the jar of ink. He had just given the official permission for plans to build a city upon the border, halfway between Bastion and Nebeth. It would be only the third major settlement in Bastion's history, and would in fact be a good deal larger than Riverside before long.
"Choirs grant it a kinder fate than the Crossing," Arric muttered, scrubbing at his eyes.
It struck him that it was already evening. Rising from his chair and moving to his west-facing window, he saw that the sun was balanced neatly upon the mountain peaks.
It was strange. He'd given word that he wished to speak with Ethion and Darius when they returned to
the city. He wanted an update on Ethion's progress – and wanted to make sure Darius wasn't planning some attack on Nebeth with his soldiers. Arric didn't care how bored the man was.
Stretching his limbs, Arric departed his chambers and made for the globe room.
"Ewan," he said to the ranking wizard there. "When did Ethion's group return?"
Ewan looked bewildered. He glanced about the room to the rest of the wizards manning the globes. "We have received no word of their return, Arric."
Arric's brow knit. He'd felt their test, even as far from the city as they had been – their spells had grown more and more powerful as they worked, and every wizard could now feel when a trial was being carried out.
Arric moved over to a set of globes keyed to areas of the city, stopping in front of the one that reached to the barracks.
He activated the globe, starting the crystal to glowing as his magic fed it – down in the city, its twin was doing the same. Soon the power flowing from Arric eased, a sign that another wizard had taken up the other side of the connection.
"Arric!" the man said. "What can I do for you?"
"Is Darius within the barracks?"
The face in the globe bobbed as the man shrugged, though the gesture itself was unseen. "It would be hard to know, Darius often comes and goes with little fanfare. I doubt he would come here, though, as his Gryphons are not in the city."
"Yes, I'm aware. Thank you," Arric said, and let the connection lapse without further comment.
Something more than confusion had begun to rise in Arric's heart – something darker, a baseless unease. The Council Leader tried to ignore it as his mind roved over the various reasons why Ethion or Darius might not have returned.
"What is it, Arric?" asked Ewan. "What's Darius done now?" he said, smiling.
Arric looked up at him. "I don't know," he said slowly. "Come. Help me find him."
***
"Alright, boys. It's almost time!" shouted Pollis. "The wizards are ready. Are you?"
The roar that rose left no question as to their answer. The Gryphons stood with their lieutenant. The torch Pollis carried gave the soldier's faces a look of feral delight as they stood in the darkness around him. Their packs contained food, water, and bedrolls – their tents and other equipment was left behind. Their long blades sat strapped to their packs – the swords at their waists were shorter, with a wider blade to give them the weight a weapon needed to penetrate armor. Many Gryphons carried man-height spears, and others the logs that had been cut, stripped of branches and sharpened at one end. Several logs and some leather lashings could make a useful barrier in a tight space.
“Darius told you how we'd get at the Enemy,” Pollis began. “We'll do to them what they've done to us – appear out of nowhere, carried by fire. He told you to harden your hearts, men. He thinks you'll be afraid! Are you afraid?" Pollis taunted them.
Again, the roar, the stomping of feat and emphatic shaking of every soldier's head gave the exultant answer.
"Good! Now who wants to lead us into the fire?"
Every Gryphon extended his hand, some towards Pollis, others into the air, volunteering, demanding the honor to be the first through the portal.
Darius looked on, his eyes shining with pride.
"Now that," Ethion remarked beside him, "is a leader of men."
"Yes," Darius said. "He's almost as good as Robert was."
Ethion gave Darius a sideways glance, part disbelief, part sympathy.
"You!" Pollis selected one soldier. Some of the others booed at the decision, even as their fellow grinned and shouted back at them.
"And you!" Pollis pointed to another. He hushed the men with one hand. "We'll go two by two into the spell. You know your work. You know the plan. Fight well! Two by two, take your places!"
The Gryphons rapidly formed a double-line starting near where the wizards were standing. Some looked excitedly and expectantly at Darius, who returned their smiles with his own. His heart, too, was beating hard with anticipation. Once the movement had settled, he strode out to the side so his men could all see him. He carried no torch, but a steady white flame sprang from an upraised palm, bathing him in a different light.
"Gryphons! Know now what we seek to do!" he cried. "In the deep halls of Fortress Nebeth, these wizards will cast a great spell. This spell will change the War! This spell will make sure that the Enemy will never again be able to threaten Bastion without bleeding for every step between it and Pyre!"
His men cheered at the claim. Those who understood nothing of magic would not think to ask how such a thing was possible – and none save the wizards understood anything about magic.
"This spell must be cast in Nebeth. Those who are with me will work the magic – I, as always, will fight alongside you," Darius said. "One final thing - Pollis lied," he declared as a sanguine grin grew on his face. "I know well that you fear nothing!"
A final cheer, and Darius joined them. Then he turned and motioned to Pollis. "You and I will be here," he said, inserting himself into a place in the column not far from the front. "The other wizards must come through last." He looked towards Ethion and the others. "You are ready?"
Somber nods came from the wizards. The spell they must use now was not the spell that had brought them to the glade, but the exact spell that the sorcerers of Pyre had developed – save in one respect. The wizards could not risk leading themselves and the soldiers through Hell, as the Enemy did. Though it required so much power as to be at the furthest limits of their ability, the wizards would be assuming the burden of power for each man that stepped through to the Far Door.
Ethion turned to the empty darkness, away from the men, and began. A whisper of magic rose from him and leapt away into the darkness. Then Ethion began to raise his true power, and the other wizards joined him, pushing at the hard barrier of distance, feeling as though they were striving against he walls of Bastion itself. Greater and greater they pushed, gathering all the power they could, and the barrier did not give at all – until all at once, it collapsed. The gate appeared, fire leaping out from nowhere to drive the darkness away.
"Now!" cried Darius, and the Gryphons began to move.
***
"Darius disappears often enough," Ewan said. "The man has no real home. Who ever knows where to look for him?"
Arric rounded on the man. The Council Leader's eyes were almost frantic, his face flushed. "But does Ethion? Do the others? There are ten wizards missing! None have seen them since this morning. We must know why!"
They were in the Council chamber along with several others, and through the window glass the night was moonless and full of stars, not a single cloud obscuring the sky. The perfect calm of that view opposed the storm that was growing inside Arric. His apprehension had long since given way to full-blown dread. A cold ache in his chest grew with every heartbeat as he reaffirmed to himself each moment that something dire was happening.
The doors opened, and a wizard led a pretty young woman into the chamber. It was Pendrick's wife, her expression of muted worry similar to the one Arric had worn an hour before. Arric himself tried to calm his own face as she entered.
"Wizard Arric?" she said as she curtsied. "What is it?"
"We are so sorry to bring you from your home at this hour, my dear," Arric said. "We had to ask though, has Pendrick been home this evening?"
His calm and measured words were to no avail – as soon as he'd asked the question, her face became worried. "This evening? Of course not, he is away on – well, he said he was being sent on a mission, and that he would not be back for several days."
Arric and the other traded looks. At their blank expressions, she began to question them frantically. "What is the matter? What's happened? Is Pendrick alright?"
Arric touched hands to forehead in exasperation, and smiled. "Ah, of course. I had not thought they would leave so soon."
Though she looked no better at his words, at least the woman grew no more agitated. "What do you
mean? How could you not know he had left?"
"You must understand, dear, that since the tragedy with Balkan, our plans have had to keep some secrecy. Even I did not know exactly when he would be leaving."
She said nothing, looking about at the other wizards present. Most smiled at her, and Callos nodded reassuringly.
"I'm terribly sorry we disturbed you for this," Arric said, placing a hand upon her shoulder and leading her back towards the door. "Wizard Alistair will walk you back to your home." Arric gestured for the wizard who had brought her in, and walked them both through the doors.
"That was quick thinking, Arric," Lazarus said when he returned. "Well done."
"I didn't want her to worry," Arric said absently. "There is no need."
"Isn't there?" Lazarus said, and the from beneath his bushy white eyebrows he speared Arric with a look.
Arric returned it, and his feelings quickly ripped through the sham calm he had affixed to it while he lied to Pendrick's wife. "You feel it, too."
The old wizard nodded slowly. "Yes. Something is wrong."
Arric was about to reply when his eyes were drawn past Lazarus to the window the man was sitting in front of. His breathing quickening, Arric hurried closer to the glass. Lazarus rose and turned, his mouth dropping open. Soon, every wizard had his face pressed to a window.
Outside, lights were rising from the city, like stars returning to the sky. They rose from the barracks, from the Houses of Healing, and all the other places where the Angels maintained a constant presence.
"The Angels," Lazarus breathed.
"They are leaving the city," said another.
"Why?" asked Callos, his breath frosting upon the window before him.
Arric pushed away from the wall, hands balling into fists, and shouted.
"What is happening?"
Twixt Heaven And Hell Page 39
