Shadow of a Dark Queen

by Raymond E. Feist

  Erik swore as he hurried back to the shop. The front of the store was almost intact; whoever had pried open the doors had taken one look and run off.

  The store was a chandlery, with nothing of value to a looter. Erik hurried through and in the rear he found yards of sail. More, he found scaling pitch in barrels.

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  He quickly rolled one out through the ruined storefront, and across the street. There he picked up the barrel. He threw it so it landed squarely on the flames. The barrel struck with a satisfying crack and quickly the pitch began to burn. Erik took a step away and then a fountain of flame sprang skyward.

  Nakor ran up and said, “What did you find? That was a good ‘whoosh’!”

  “Pitch,” answered Erik. “Inside.” He turned and the little man followed after. Nakor scurried around, looking at everything he could find. He came away with several smaller kegs and put them aside out front, then hurried inside. A moment later he came out, stooped over, pushing a barrel as Erik was returning from putting a second barrel on the flame.

  Erik paused and turned to look at the western sky.

  The bridge of light was nearing the apex of its arc, the Saaur and mercenaries at the leading edge standing hundreds of feet above the water.

  Nakor said, “Wish I had a trick, boy. If I could make that thing vanish”—he snapped his fingers—

  “that would be something, watching them all fall into the river.”

  Erik got another barrel and side by side they rolled them down the cobbles, toward the third builder’s yard. “Why doesn’t some magician around here think of that?” he asked, nearly panting from the exertion.

  “Battle magic is difficult,” said Nakor as he pushed the barrel along. “Magician has a trick.

  Another magician counters the trick. Third magician counters the second. Fourth magician tries to help the second. They’re all standing around trying to best one another and the army comes along and chops 52887_Shadow of a Dark.qxd 9/3/02 3:50 PM Page 596

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  them up. Very dangerous and not many magicians willing to try.

  “Surprise is the thing.” He paused as he reached the ramp leading down to the lower landing where the main building of the shipyard was ablaze, and let the barrel roll away with a guiding kick. “That trick there would be very easy to counter, if you gave a powerful magician the time to study it. Lots of Pantathians working together on that bridge. Lots of serpent priests concentrating together. Very difficult Easy to disrupt. Like unraveling a bag. You pull the right thread at the seam, and it all falls apart.” Erik looked at him expectantly. Nakor grinned. “I don’t know how. But Pug of Stardock or maybe some Tsurani Great Ones could do it.”

  Erik closed his eyes a moment, then said, “Well, if they’re not going to show up to help, I guess we have to do it ourselves. Come on!”

  As they ran back toward the chandler’s, Nakor continued, “But if Pug or some other powerful magician was to try, the Emerald Queen has even more magicians ready to burn him to a cinder if he . . .” He stopped. “I have an idea!”

  Erik halted, gasping for breath. “What?”

  “You go find the others. Tell them to steal a boat here, in the estuary. Don’t wait. Leave now. Get out of the harbor fast. I’ll take care of the fires!”

  Erik said, “Nakor, how?”

  “Tell you later. You gave me a great idea! Now go! Leave soon!” The little man hurried back toward the chandler’s, and Erik took a deep breath and turned. He willed his exhausted body into one more run and set off to look for Calis and the others.

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  At the far end of the estuary, Erik found Calis, de Loungville, and Sho Pi working hard at stoking a fire. Two dead guardsmen near by told him someone had objected.

  The rain increased in tempo and Erik found himself soaked to the skin as he reached Calis. “Nakor says to get a boat and leave, now.”

  Calis said, “There’s too much here left intact.”

  “He said to tell you he’d take care of it. He’s thought up a great trick.”

  Instantly Calis dropped a long board he was about to toss on a sputtering bonfire and said, “Did you see any boats?”

  Erik shook his head. “But I wasn’t looking for any.”

  They hurried back up the road until they came to the first stone stairway leading down to a lower section of the docks, where some small fires still smoldered. The rain was starting to fall in earnest, a drenching downpour that obscured the mystic arch that now hung more than half the way between the opposite bank and the city.

  Peering through the rain, Erik said, “There’s something out there.”

  He pointed. Calis said, “It’s capsized.”

  They moved along the edge of the estuary, and more than once thought they had seen something only to find an overturned hull or smashed bow.

  Then Sho Pi said, “There! Moored to a buoy!”

  Calis tossed aside his weapons and dove in. Erik took a breath and leaped after him. He followed his Captain by the sound of splashing more than anything else. Each stroke threatened to be his last as fatigue and cold seemed to leech what little strength Erik had left.

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  But then he came alongside the craft. It was a fishing smack, with a deep center compartment half-filled with brine to keep the fish fresh. The single mast lay along the port gunnel, lashed in place. “Any small-boat sailors?” asked Calis.

  Half falling as he pulled himself inside the boat, Erik said, “Just what I learned on the Revenge. I’m from the mountains, remember.”

  De Loungville peered inside the sail locker. “No sails, anyway.” He reached down along the gunwale of the boat and found two pairs of oars.

  Calis sat down and took one pair and fit them in the oarlocks, while de Loungville cut the boat free from the mooring buoy. By the time Calis had taken a third pull, de Loungville had unshipped the second set of oars and was pulling along in time with Calis.

  Sho Pi found a rudder and tiller and set them up, while Erik sank deeper into the boat. He was soaked to his skin, battered, and exhausted, but he almost gave thanks for being able to simply sit and not have to move.

  “Anyone see Roo?” asked Erik. “Or Jadow or Natombi?”

  De Loungville shook his head. “Where’s Biggo?”

  “Dead,” replied Erik.

  Then de Loungville said, “Find a bucket. We’re going to be swimming if we keep taking on water.”

  Erik looked around and in a bait box found a large wooden bucket. He stood there a moment, then asked, “What do I do?”

  “Look for pools of water, fill the bucket, and pour it over the side,” answered de Loungville. “It’s called bailing.”

  Erik said, “Oh,” and knelt. The boat had a bilge grate, and he saw water collecting under it. He 52887_Shadow of a Dark.qxd 9/3/02 3:50 PM Page 599

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  moved the grate and dipped the bucket, and filled it half full.

  Water wasn’t coming in save for the rain, and he didn’t have to work hard to keep the water contained in the bilge. Erik looked ahead.

  A shallow flow out the south end of the estuary provided a direct course into the river’s mouth. Calis shouted to Sho Pi, “Steer that way. The deeper channel for the big ships leads into the main harbor. This smack might be able to steer between the hulks in the harbor, but I don’t want to chance it.”

  Erik said, “With the chaos in the harbor, we would be trading one mess for a bigger one.”

  De Loungville said, “Just keep bailing.”

  Pug sat up, as a strange keening filled the air. It was the dead of night at Stardock, and he
had been asleep. He pulled on his robe as the door to his sleeping quarters was pushed open. Miranda, wearing a very short and sheer sleeping shift, said, “What is that?”

  Pug said, “An alarm. I’ve established wards throughout Novindus, so I could keep track of what’s going on down there without risking calling too much attention to myself.” He waved his hand and the sound ceased. “The city of Maharta.”

  They had come to share a quiet sense of each other over the weeks Miranda had been staying with Pug. She found it amusing that so many of the “mysteries” surrounding him were really nothing more than sleight-of-hand.

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  usually appeared there at night. Meals were waiting for him, as well as his laundry, much to Miranda’s delight.

  Pug regarded the dark eyes that studied him.

  “What do you intend to do?” she asked. “Go there?”

  “No,” said Pug. “There might be a trap. Come along. I’ve got something interesting to show you.”

  He led her out of his personal quarters in the tower at the center of the keep of Stardock, and down the stairs.

  “And why don’t you put some clothes on? You’re quite a distraction in that nothing you sleep in.”

  Miranda gave him a half-smile as she ducked into her own quarters, grabbed a dress, and slipped it over her head. Stockings, shoes, and the rest she’d worry about later.

  She returned to the hall and followed Pug down the stairs. She had sensed over the weeks they had been together that Pug found her attractive, and on several occasions had wondered about him in a more personal way, but neither had broached the topic or acted upon it. She had slept alone in a room close to his every night since following him to Stardock.

  A strange sort of trust had built up between them, for while Miranda refused to reveal much about herself, she had a quick mind and fast wit and the same dry sense of humor Pug had developed over the years. He had given her the run of the place, and she had been in most of the rooms, but not all. A few rooms were locked, and when she asked about them, he said there were things he was unwilling to share with anyone, and would change the subject.

  He made a motion with his hand as he approached one such door, and it swung open with-

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  out a touch. She understood the principles involved in the spell, but had sensed nothing of magic when she had investigated the door a month earlier.

  Inside the room was a large assortment of scrying devices. A round object lay beneath a blue velvet cover, and as he removed this, she saw a perfect globe of crystal.

  “This was a legacy from my teacher Kulgan, who died many years ago. It was fashioned by Althafain of Carse.” She nodded in recognition of the name of the legendary artificer of magic items. As he passed his hand over it, the heart of crystal turned opaque, a milk-white cloud forming within the ball. With another pass of his hand, he brought a rosy glow to the cloud within the orb. “This device gave him the first hint I had some talent”—his voice fell low as he added—“a very long time ago.”

  “What can it do?”

  “It’s a sighting device, and the wonderful thing about it is that it is very subtle. Those being watched have to be very alert to sense its use.” He sat on a stool and motioned for Miranda to sit nearby.

  “The problem, though, is that what makes it subtle makes it very stupid. If you don’t know what you’re looking for, it’s no help at all.

  “Fortunately, I know where I placed each ward.”

  He squinted a little, and Miranda felt magic turning and being adjusted as Pug said, “Let’s see what is happening in Maharta. It must be midmorning there.”

  He focused his will, and the city of Maharta was revealed in the glass, as if viewed from the clouds by the birds. It lay in smoke and cloudy darkness.

  “What tripped your ward?” asked Miranda.

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  “That’s what I’m trying to . . . Here, I think.”

  The point of view in the glass shifted, and across the river he saw a bridge of light, and an army upon it. After viewing it for a moment, Pug closed his eyes.

  He opened them again after a moment. “One thing about the Pantathians: there’s little about them one might call refined. Unless I attacked them directly, there’s no possible way they could know I was watching.”

  “Is Maharta going to fall?” asked Miranda.

  “It appears that’s the case,” answered Pug.

  “Calis?”

  Pug said, “I’ll try to find him.”

  Pug closed his eyes and the scene in the ball shifted, and as he opened them again, the colors swirling in the ball resolved themselves into an image. A small fishing boat, rowed by two men and holding two others, struggled through rough waters. Pug brought the image closer, and they could both see that the first man in the boat was Calis, pulling with his more than human strength against the choppy water.

  Miranda sighed. “I suppose helping him is out of the question?”

  “Difficult, without letting the Pantathians know where we are. A few I could deal with. Those guarding that bridge . . .”

  “I know,” she said.

  Pug looked at Miranda. “You’re fond of him, aren’t you?”

  “Calis?” She was silent for a while. “In a way.

  He’s unique and I feel a . . . connection with him.”

  Pug sat back, his face a mask. “It’s been a long time since I’ve felt that with anyone.” Looking back into the ball, he said, “We could attempt—”

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  Suddenly there was a flash of orange light in the ball.

  Miranda said, “What was that?”

  “What was that?” shouted de Loungville as orange light exploded at the docks.

  They had been making steady headway against the running tide as they crossed the boundary of the estuary and entered the river proper. The winds were picking up and the rain increasing, to the point where Erik was bailing in earnest.

  No one had spoken for a while. Despite their efforts to stoke the fires before leaving, the rain had been defeating them. Even the biggest fire was starting to diminish. And whatever Nakor’s idea, it hadn’t been manifested. Then a hum had sounded in the distance, followed a moment later by a bolt of white energy arcing down from the bridge to strike the center of the shipyard.

  A huge ball of orange flame climbed into the air, followed by a rising column of black smoke. The sound of the explosion had hurt their ears even at this distance, and a moment later a hot gust of air struck them like a stinging blow.

  “Keep rowing!” yelled Calis.

  Erik bailed, but he looked over his shoulder, past Sho Pi, who also looked back. “Look!” shouted Sho Pi as a tiny dart of blue light rose from the docks and struck at the leading edge of the bridge of light.

  Within seconds another massive bolt of energy rained down on the harbor, exploding buildings and sheds into flame. Two previously intact ships resting at anchor, waiting to be hauled out for repair, caught fire as flames touched their sails.

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  Now half the shipyard was aflame, and hot enough, apparently, for the rain to have little impact. Calis and de Loungville pulled hard, and a few minutes later another blue bolt of light rose up and struck the bridge.

  The third blast from above was as large as the first two combined, and fully half the waterfront was engulfed in fire. Sudden
ly de Loungville let out a harsh laugh. “Nakor!” he said.

  Even Calis couldn’t hide his astonishment.

  Erik said, “But he said he didn’t have any magic that would work against the bridge!”

  De Loungville said, “But they don’t know that!”

  He jutted his chin at the bridge, starting its descent toward Maharta.

  “Whatever he’s doing, they think it’s an attack, and they’re doing our work for us! They’re going to burn down half the city trying to fry the little maniac!”

  Suddenly Erik started to laugh. He couldn’t help himself. The image of the little man dashing madly from place to place, somehow avoiding the terrible destruction the Pantathians were throwing at him, was comic to consider.

  “It’s an illusion,” said Sho Pi. “The serpent priests are so ready for combat, they don’t trouble to look at what is only an illusion. They act as if it were real.”

  Another tiny blue bolt shot skyward and another thundering response answered, and more of the city’s waterfront erupted in flame.

  “Gods,” said Erik in a half-whisper. “How’s he going to get out of that?”

  Miranda squinted against the bright image in the ball. “What is going on?”

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  “Someone has the Pantathians convinced they’re under attack, and they’re spending a great deal of energy trying to destroy whoever it is.”

  “Can we help?”

  Pug said, “There’s enough going on that I think I can slip something in to make merry hell for this Emerald Queen.” He closed his eyes and Miranda felt power flowing toward him. He moved his lips slightly, and, like music, the pitch of the energies in the room shifted.

  Miranda sat back to watch, and to wait.

  Each time the flames grew and Erik was convinced Nakor must finally be dead, another tiny blue bolt would strike the bridge, and another globe of hellfire would descend on the city. The entire waterfront was now ablaze, from the ship-builders’ estuary to the main harbor. As they took the river to the ocean, and rode the outgoing tide past the harbor mouth, they could see mighty ships burning at the dockside. Erik tried not to imagine Roo stuck on the docks in the midst of that fire and panic, trapped with no way to escape but to jump into the harbor.