Magician's End

by Raymond E. Feist

  ‘And once it is closed again?’ asked Ruffio.

  ‘I need you to take as many of the moredhel, the Sentinels, and any magician or priest too injured or weak to be part of the web, and get them as far from here as you can.’

  Nakor held up a small Tsurani orb. ‘I can do that.’

  ‘Where did you get that?’ asked Pug. ‘I thought we’d allocated all of them.’

  ‘I’ve had it for years,’ said Nakor. ‘In my bag. I’m always travelling with someone else so I’ve never had to use it.’

  ‘Good,’ said Pug. ‘Where’s it calibrated to?’

  ‘This one goes to Krondor, Rillanon, Stardock, the Isle, and somewhere else …’ He toggled it and vanished. A moment later he returned. ‘Ah, to LaMut! That inn with the doorway into the Hall.’

  ‘How did you get back here?’ asked Pug, pointing to the sphere.

  ‘It’s a trick,’ said Nakor with a grin.

  ‘Then do you have a trick that can extend the field of that device to encompass more than just those holding on to you?’

  Nakor’s grin vanished. ‘I can do that. How many?’

  ‘As many as you can manage,’ said Pug. ‘Take the moredhel and taredhel to LaMut, along with the eledhel. From there they can make their way to the Northlands or Elvandar as they please. The wounded can be cared for there as well.’ He dropped his voice. ‘Make sure that the two elven princes are among the first. Calin has been trying to help, but he’s just another warrior and we have more than we need: I’d trade a dozen warriors for another magic-user. And Calis …’ He lowered his voice. ‘I’ll not chance his mother losing a husband and son on the same day.’

  Nakor said, ‘I understand, Pug.’

  To Ruffio he said, ‘Take as many as you can, as well. Once you’ve reached LaMut, I want you to return to the Villa.’

  ‘Very well,’ said Ruffio. ‘What then?’

  ‘You wait, and if we survive all this, you will have the burden of rebuilding the Conclave and the Academy. Amirantha is there and he will do what he can to help you.’

  ‘But—’ began the younger magician, but Pug held up his hand.

  ‘Most of those here will probably not survive,’ said Pug. ‘If the damage to the dome is less than I anticipate, perhaps some will. No one here is ignorant of the risk. I’ve spoken to the leaders, and asked them to give permission to depart to those who wanted to leave.’

  ‘How many left?’ asked Magnus.

  ‘Three,’ said Pug. ‘A very old cleric of Sung who says his heart is weak and he can’t be of help, but he can tend to the injured should we need to recall him. And two young magicians from the Academy who just admitted to being too frightened to risk not fleeing at the last moment, disrupting the web.’

  ‘They may be the intelligent ones,’ said Nakor with a grin.

  ‘Anyway, I think we’re ready,’ said Pug.

  ‘What’s this?’ asked Ruffio, looking past Pug.

  Pug turned and saw Calis and Arkan walking their way.

  Calis said, ‘Pug, Arkan has a question.’

  ‘Yes?’ said Pug.

  The moredhel chieftain paused for a moment, then said, ‘In a dream I was seen defending a human magician, clad in black.’ He pointed to Pug, then to Magnus. ‘I am unsure where I am destined to fight.’

  Pug didn’t hesitate. He pointed to the large outcrop. ‘There. My son will be standing there and his concentration cannot be broken once he starts working his arts. If you will defend him, I will be in your debt.’

  ‘There is no debt,’ said the chieftain of the Ardanien. ‘It has been foretold and is ordained.’

  He turned and walked towards Liallan’s pavilion.

  Pug looked at Calis watching the moredhel’s retreating back. ‘He’s an interesting fellow.’

  Calin was coming from where he saw to the wounded and passed Arkan without a nod. When he reached Pug and the others, he said, ‘We are doing as well as we could hope. Some of the wounded will be crippled, but they will live.’ He saw his brother and Nakor watching Arkan and gave his brother a questioning look.

  Calis nodded. ‘I’ve killed a fair number of his kin over the years.’ He looked down a moment, his expression one of regret. ‘Never enjoyed it, really.’

  Calin nodded and said nothing: there was nothing to say.

  Calis glanced at Nakor. ‘He remembers a time when we soldiered for the king,’ he said.

  ‘Indeed, I do,’ said Nakor. ‘With Bobby de Longville and your band of desperate men.’ Then he said, ‘Sorry, I forget about naming the dead.’

  Calin shrugged. ‘I will leave you to reminisce, brother.’ He moved back uphill toward the clearing where the wounded were being tended and those resting could get a meal.

  Then the younger Prince of Elvandar looked around as if drinking in every detail. ‘I’ve left some good men behind, Pug. Eric von Darkmoor – what a man he turned into. From the gallows to the palace. And men whose names maybe only Nakor and I remember, like Billy Goodwin and Jerome Handy.’

  Nakor nodded reflectively. ‘Remember Biggo?’

  ‘He was someone you wanted on your side in a brawl,’ said Calis with a smile, ‘but at heart he was a gentle fellow. And Luis de Savona, and that little fellow, Rupert.’

  ‘Avery,’ said Nakor. ‘He got very rich, I hear. Twice. And Sho Pi, who finally became a grand master in an order of monks who served Sung the Pure.’

  Calis said, ‘I’ve led good men and been honoured to serve with better men.’ He glanced back at Arkan, then at Pug. ‘You couldn’t ask for a better warrior to defend Magnus. He may have been taught to hate humans his entire life, but he will die defending your son.’

  ‘High praise,’ said Pug.

  Calis merely said, ‘What do you need of me?’

  ‘Stay close to Miranda, and when it is time to leave, don’t argue, just go. Your mother will need you and your brother.’

  Something in the way Pug said that struck Calis, but he said nothing. He just nodded and went to where Miranda waited.

  ‘Nakor,’ said Pug. ‘Once this is done, if you choose to stay, find Ruffio at the Villa, please?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Nakor, knowing what Pug meant by ‘stay’, for the demon part of him, Belog, understood that what they were attempting to do here would echo on the Fifth Circle, and that if Pug was successful, perhaps the void would be halted there as well.

  Pug waited. A drop of rain struck his cheek and he saw that the storm forming above was getting darker. He sighed and began reviewing one more time what he planned to do.

  • CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE •

  Obliteration

  THE SENTRY SHOUTED A WARNING.

  ‘Dragons!’ came the cry from one of the moredhel guards and Pug looked skyward. The dark sky and falling rain had shrouded them until the dragons dropped out of the cloud cover. Soon it was obvious that a massive flight of dragons was heading toward them.

  Pug glanced first to Magnus, then to Miranda, Nakor, and Ruffio, and shouted, ‘Be wary! I have no idea what this portends.’

  The arrival of the dragons caused several magicians to lose concentration and suddenly the dome’s surface began to waver. As the dome began to weaken, dragons descended to confront the Dread who escaped from the tears in its fabric. Magicians and priests fled as the massive dragons threatened to trample them.

  Pug looked around frantically, trying to make sense of the chaotic spectacle before him, but was at a loss to understand what was happening until he saw an enormous golden dragon circling in to land nearby. On her back he could make out a figure in white and gold. ‘Tomas!’ he shouted.

  Calis hurried to Pug’s side and they watched as the dragon bowed her neck and the warrior on her back effortlessly dismounted. Calis watched him take two strides and said, ‘That is not my father!’

  Pug readied himself for another conflict, for if it was as Calis said, and this white-and-gold-clad warrior was no longer his father, that could only mean it was once again the Val
heru, Ashen-Shugar.

  Ashen-Shugar looked from face to face and when his eyes came to rest on Calis, he slowed and an expression of curiosity replaced that of simmering rage. ‘What …?’ He stared at Calis. ‘You are of the race, but you are not. Who are you?’

  ‘I am your son,’ said Calis evenly.

  Ashen-Shugar’s eyes closed for a moment, and he swayed.

  Deep within a dark sea, a consciousness swam upward, seeking light, and when it broke the surface, it sprang upward, as if taking wing, and landed on a single rock above the black water. Within the mind of this combined being, Tomas again asserted himself and seized control.

  The white-and-gold-clad warrior’s eyes opened and focused, and a distant, hoarse voice whispered, ‘Pug, Calis, I have little time.’

  ‘Tomas?’

  ‘Father?’

  ‘I was hidden, deep within Ashen-Shugar, and I will soon be gone.’

  ‘What?’ asked Calis, while Pug merely nodded understanding.

  ‘I have no time to explain, but the dragons … Pug, the dragons are the power behind all this.’ He waved his hand, encompassing the battle unfolding between the dragons and the Dread. ‘Only they are linked to this world more profoundly than elvenkind. Only they possess a magic older than man’s.’

  Pug whispered, ‘Only they navigate the void!’

  Tomas said, ‘Only they can bend time.’

  ‘It’s always been the dragons,’ said Pug.

  Tomas said, ‘They serve a power more profound and ancient than we ever imagined. Whatever ultimate force opposes the Dread in this universe, the dragons are its servants.’ He looked at the stormy skies above and felt the splatter of rain on his face. ‘Even this,’ he said, ‘this last moment in my life, is a thing of beauty.’

  ‘Father?’

  Calis saw his father look at him, gaze into his eyes, then turn back to Pug. ‘We must go. I do not know why, but I have been … Ashen-Shugar has been called to confront the Dread.’

  Blood drained from Pug’s face, and he said, ‘I know why.’ He glanced around to see who could hear and saw that Miranda, Nakor, Ruffio, and Magnus were all within earshot of the conversation. ‘It is the nature of the Dread that time does not exist as we think of it. For only a moment, as we see it, the Dread’s entire attention must be turned to one thing, and that will echo across time and keep it from continuing to probe into our universe.’

  ‘But if it has happened …’ began Miranda.

  Pug held up his hand. ‘No time.’ He looked at Tomas. A brother since Pug could remember, the first person to take up his cause and be his champion, his protector when they were boys, Tomas nodded silently, showing that he understood what was coming. Tears welled up in Pug’s eyes and he said, ‘Will you … will you be forced to endure this?’

  Tears filled Tomas’s eyes too. ‘Thankfully, no. I shall soon be dead in every sense of the term. Whatever the gods have in store for me will be what it will be, but I will be spared that horror.’

  Pug felt the tears streak down his cheeks. ‘For that I am grateful, my oldest friend.’

  Tomas closed his eyes and his face contorted a moment, then he whispered, ‘It is time.’

  ‘Now?’ asked Pug.

  ‘Now!’ said Tomas and he looked at Calis. ‘Your mother knows how I feel. As do you. Always remember.’

  Pug threw a glance at Miranda, who took a step in his direction. He held up his hand and she faltered, then halted. They locked gazes for a lingering moment, then he and Tomas both moved toward the battle outside the rim of the dome.

  Pug sent a signal to Magnus who in turn began the process of linking the magicians and priests worldwide who would lend their power to shutting down the rift. Tomas drew his sword and cast aside his shield: any part of the Dread he approached would vanish in a single bright white flame and a small puff of smoke as soon as his sword touched them. Pug erected a protective shell around himself and each Dread who touched it also exploded in a white flash.

  Tomas’s thoughts came to Pug. At some point I will lose control, and Ashen-Shugar must be confronting the Dread, or he will turn on you.

  Pug spoke aloud, ‘I understand.’ He looked at Magnus and there passed between them an unspoken goodbye.

  Then Pug and Tomas entered the dome.

  The Dread spectres tried to swarm them and Pug’s protective bubble of energy exploded each smoky figure upon contact. ‘How this Dread can be one entity, yet manifest as many separate parts is beyond my understanding,’ said Pug.

  Tomas nodded. ‘There are things we will never know, Pug. Who the dragons serve, and how they came to be the focus of all this, is my question. We must accept that some mysteries are beyond understanding.’

  ‘Time is short,’ said Pug. They moved toward the centre of the city, where they could see the red beam rising to fan out above to form the dome.

  ‘Then hurry,’ said Tomas, and Pug could tell he was in a great deal of distress.

  Pug jogged along beside him and could feel each contact with a Dread shape as if he were hitting something physically. The drain on his energy was trivial compared to what was beginning to come his way via Magnus. Still, managing the energy was more difficult than he had anticipated, and he tried to will himself to a calmer state of mind. He understood what was at stake, but giving in to panic or becoming unfocused was the fastest way to lose the day.

  As they neared the centre of the city, they came to the edge of the pit, a massive crater in the heart of the once-magnificent home of the taredhel. Smoky black creatures of all sizes and a variety of shapes clambered up over the lip, and as soon as they came into sight of Pug and Tomas, they attacked.

  Despite the two being perhaps the mightiest beings on this world at this moment, it was like swimming up a waterfall, so fast were the Dread rising up. Tomas was restricted by the simple limits of his physical reach, and his ability to strike in only one direction at a time with his sword. Pug was fatigued by the need to keep his protective spell intact. He avoided physical damage, but the press of bodies was threatening to swarm him at the edge of the pit.

  ‘We need to be down there!’ he shouted to Tomas.

  ‘I have no doubt you’re right,’ the white-and-gold-clad warrior shouted back over the clamour. ‘I can barely maintain control. I need your help.’

  Pug siphoned some magic from the stream Magnus was sending and lifted himself and Tomas above the tallest Dread climbing out of the pit. Some leaped to reach them, but fell short, and a few tumbled back into the pit. The few that had wings flew up against the protective sphere and vanished in a shower of sparks, but didn’t provide enough resistance to slow Pug down.

  They moved up and saw the pit was enormous, at least two hundred yards across. ‘What’s that?’ asked Tomas, indicating what appeared to be a dark shape rising from the centre of the pit.

  ‘I think that’s the heart of the Dread, seeking a way out,’ replied his friend. ‘Hold on a moment longer.’

  Pug swooped down, and as they descended he watched dark-grey vapour or smoke twisting and turning as it sped upward. ‘That is the void itself,’ said Pug. ‘The actual stuff of the void leaking into our universe.’

  ‘Hurry,’ said Tomas. ‘I can’t control him much longer.’

  As they started a slow descent into the pit, Pug asked, ‘How did you come to let him regain control?’

  Tomas laughed, and Pug heard the boy he had loved as a brother and a man resigned to his fate mixed in that laugh. ‘I simply let go, Pug. Ashen-Shugar and I struggled during the early years of the war with the Tsurani, as I learned how to wield his powers, and I finally achieved dominance. He was made dormant all those years ago, and I found a perfect balance in my life with the magic the dragons gave me, made strong by the shielding enchantment of Elvandar. It was one of the reasons I so rarely left. But once I awoke him, returned him to control, I had to hide within his mind.’ There was an emotion that followed that statement that made Pug realize Tomas had endured something
unspeakable while relinquishing control to the dragon lord. ‘I had to “die” so that he could achieve the ferocity we need to defeat what is below us. While I controlled this body, I could only hold my own with Draken-Korin, but once I unleashed Ashen-Shugar, the fight was quickly over.’

  ‘Draken-Korin?’ asked Pug.

  ‘I can’t explain,’ said Tomas. ‘Just be ready, for what I’m about to do may bring as much danger as what we see below. But know this, Pug: you were like a brother to me.’

  ‘And you to me, Tomas.’

  ‘In a moment, I will be gone. Goodbye, Pug.’

  Within the mind of the warrior in white, Tomas felt as if he was losing his control over the surging tide below his feet. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, and black water suddenly rose up over the rock upon which he stood. It rose rapidly to his knees, then his waist, then his chest, and then he was under water. Rather than struggle, he relaxed and let himself succumb to the downward tug of eternity, into a darkness so profound he could barely imagine light any more. As he sank into nothingness, he thanked whatever gods could hear him for the life he had lived. The entity that was Ashen-Shugar slowly came back into focus, reclaiming his dominion within the mind of the being that had shared his consciousnesses for more than a century.

  I am Ashen-Shugar! Tomas heard echoing as if from a vast distance away.

  As he felt his life finally slipping away, he said softly, I am Tomas.

  Pug felt his friend drift away. Goodbye, Tomas.

  He focused his attention downward and the pit of his stomach turned to ice. He stared down at a thing to frighten a god.

  Below them, looking up, was an immense figure of black hate and smoky despair. Roughly man-shaped, it had no clearly determinable features. Rather than skin or hide, its shape was defined in a constantly rippling, writhing, flowing smoke-like surface, tendrils of which rose up and spun off in different directions. Where the head and face should have been was a contorted shape, sometimes oblong, moments later spherical. The only constants were two, large, glowing orbs of red where eyes should have been. A coronet of sparks like lightning and flames surrounded its head like a crown. It was massive: more than ten times the size of the creature Pug had seen battle the dragon Ryath under the city of Sethanon. If that manifestation had been a Dreadlord, this must be the Dreadking; no matter how the Dread managed to manifest in different locations in space and time, this was its fundamental heart, the core of its being. Of that Pug was certain.