The Fight Against the Dark

by Wacht, Peter

  “Well done,” said Thomas. “Do you recall the premonition you get when Ogren are near? Do you remember what it feels like?”

  “I do,” she replied in Thomas’ mind. “It’s a foreboding. It makes me think of decay. Corruption. Rot. I can’t explain it any better than that.”

  “You don’t need to,” Thomas said. “Focus on that feeling. Ogren are always exiting the Charnel Mountains to cross the Northern Steppes. So I’m certain a war party is close by. Concentrate on that premonition, until it’s the only thing in your mind, then see if it will lead you where you need to go.”

  Kaylie did as Thomas suggested, fixating on the reek that she associated with Ogren when these monstrous dark creatures came close. At first there was nothing as she hovered over the grasslands. Then, after what seemed like hours but was only a few minutes, she felt a faint pull to the north. She shot forward toward the lower foothills, where the Northern Steppes gradually rose into the towering peaks of the Charnel Mountains. Slowing down, Kaylie descended, following the stench that grew stronger and stronger with each passing league. After a few more minutes, she stopped, the reek of decay almost overpowering. She gazed down into a hidden glade not far from the Northern Steppes. More than fifty Ogren had made camp for the evening among the twisted and stunted trees.

  “Well done, Kaylie.”

  She couldn’t help but smile at the praise.

  “You have the scent, or the signature as you called it, firmly in your memory. As your skill in the Talent increases, with that recognition a part of you now, you’ll easily locate Ogren from afar anytime you have need to do so.”

  “But what about whatever is tracking us?”

  “Do you remember what you felt when you sensed it, despite how faint its signature was?”

  Kaylie took a moment before responding, trying to latch onto the rancidness that had curdled her stomach the few times that she had sensed the darkness that haunted them. Then she had it.

  Immediately Kaylie surged back to the southwest, streaking through the Northern Steppes, ignoring the Breaker and speeding across the sands of the Clanwar Desert, when she abruptly came to a halt. Shocked by a touch of darkness at the very edge of her senses, she abruptly released her hold on the Talent. Once more she was back in the clearing, Thomas holding on to her arms so that she didn’t collapse to the ground. She was exhausted, her legs rubbery and barely able to keep her standing. She leaned her head against Thomas’ chest to rest for a moment and regain her strength and balance. Smiling to herself, she filed away the fact that he didn’t seem to mind the close contact, his grip becoming even a bit tighter.

  “That’s not the best way to end that particular exercise.”

  “I know,” Kaylie replied. “I didn’t plan to do it that way.”

  “But you felt the darkness? You’ll sense it again now if it approaches?”

  “Yes,” said Kaylie, picking her head up off his shoulder. Although the foul signature was more difficult to locate compared to the Ogren. Fainter. More subtle. Almost as if it was designed to get past your defenses before you realized it.

  Thomas still held her, wanting to make sure that she could stand on her own without falling. “Good. I felt it, too. Still just as nebulous as before. And as you suggest, something perhaps a bit more calculating than most dark creatures.”

  “How dangerous is it?”

  “My best guess? Based on how it flits in and out of our senses, very dangerous. Perhaps even more so than any other dark creature that we’ve faced so far. And that darkness seems to be right where we’re going. But it’s not a threat right now.”

  Thomas gently removed his hands. Kaylie wobbled, but stood on her own.

  “Feeling all right? What you just did takes a good bit of energy?”

  “Yes, just a little tired now. I just need a few minutes to recuperate.”

  “You’re much stronger than the last time we worked together.” Kaylie smiled broadly, pleased by the compliment and silently thanking Rya for taking the time to teach her. “Would you mind if I showed you some other things you can do with the Talent? When you feel up to it, of course.”

  Kaylie almost screamed with delight. “Absolutely. I want to know everything there is to know.”

  Thomas laughed, caught up in Kaylie’s exuberance. “Then let me show you how you can apply the Talent to see through Dark Magic that’s being used to hide someone’s true self.”

  The lesson continued for several hours, both Kaylie and Thomas missing dinner, but not caring. They didn’t have a lot of confidence in Oso’s cooking. And in the days following, Thomas continued to instruct Kaylie as much as he could, often from the saddle.

  The darkness waiting for them up ahead worried Thomas, and he wanted to make sure that both he and Kaylie were prepared. He knew that steel blades would have little effect on what tracked them. They would need the Talent to combat it, assuming that they could identify it before it struck.

  CHAPTER FIFTY THREE

  Perfect Vessel

  The Wraith drifted through the night, appearing to be no more than a flitting shadow as it made its way through the last slice of forest before the terrain shifted to the soaring sand dunes of the Clanwar Desert. Silent, disturbing nothing around it, the dark creature sensed its prey just a few leagues to the north.

  It had almost found what it needed to kill its victim, but the Wraith had been too slow to act. Maybe that was because its target had a skill that few others did. Unlike its many other victims, this one knew that it was being stalked. The boy was wary, as he should be. That would make the Wraith’s kill more challenging, perhaps more exciting. But it would not matter in the end. Before the boy realized that the assassin had gotten so close that he could feel its breath on his cheek, it would be too late.

  The Wraith had faced this target before and barely escaped. That failure irritated the dark creature, because it forced the Wraith to have to wait for what it lived for. What it truly wanted. The Wraith could feel the power its prey contained. The dark creature wanted that power. Craved it. Wanted it for its own. But it knew as well that because of that power its prey could sense it. That was uncommon. Even worrisome, as the Wraith relied on stealth to claim its victims. But it could deal with that threat if it could find the tool that it needed to get close to its quarry. If it did, then the Wraith had nothing to fear. Its prey would be living on borrowed time.

  Therefore, better not to rush. Better to wait. The Wraith would take its time and ensure that the circumstances were right. It had located the perfect vessel once but lost the chance because of the boy’s pet wolf. The large beast had sensed its approach, appearing right when the Wraith was about to strike. The Wraith had no choice but to retreat.

  Now the wolf was vigilant. It sensed things that even its master could not. As the Wraith drifted between the trees, it thought that perhaps another strategy should be employed. A strategy that, much like a spider and its web, would require the victim to come to it.

  CHAPTER FIFTY FOUR

  Following Darkness

  Thomas was on edge. They had left the forest as they approached the border with the Clanwar Desert. The direction that they headed took them on the fastest route to the north and the Winter Sea. But it was also the most obvious. Nevertheless, he had no desire to curl around the mountains of Kenmare. That would add weeks to their journey, time that they could ill afford to lose. Moreover, he had no wish to have this unidentifiable darkness stalk them all the way to wherever the Key might be located.

  The creatures of the Shadow Lord had tracked him before. Nightstalkers seemed to be the preferred method. But this was something new. Something more dangerous. Something that would appear unexpectedly at the very limit of his senses, and then it would disappear just as quickly. Almost as if the trailing evil sought to goad him. Therefore, better to address it head on if he could. Kaylie had agreed when they had discussed it, as had Oso.

  As the landscape changed, the temperate forest and then grassland re
ceding to scrub, the dunes of the Clanwar Desert rising before them, all the Marchers watched their surroundings closely, eyes sweeping the landscape constantly, looking for any sign of movement, even with Thomas and Kaylie using the Talent regularly to ensure the way was clear of any direct threats. The tension continued to build. Thomas could feel the darkness tickling at the edge of his awareness. Teasing him. Taunting him. Playing with him.

  Kaylie could feel it now, too, having fixed the faint taint of corruption in her memory. To her it felt like a ghost, ephemeral, always there, but just off in the distance. Beluil sensed it as well. Several times the large wolf had run ahead, loping forward at an impressive pace in hopes of catching up to whatever threatened, but to no avail. The darkness simply moved farther into the distance, faster than even the massive wolf could follow.

  Yet, even with the darkness plaguing his senses, with each step Thomas took toward his ultimate goal he knew with greater certainty that he moved in the right direction, the pull of the Key becoming stronger by the day. More urgent. The Key called to him, as if the very prophecy knew that time slid quickly through the hourglass, time that they could not afford to waste.

  CHAPTER FIFTY FIVE

  Small Chance

  The Clanwar Desert amazed Kaylie. It was an environment that she had never experienced before. She quickly learned to cover her head to protect against the hot sun, which beat off the fine sand beneath them and often reflected a sharp glare depending on the angle of the light. Yet even here on the very border of the desert, where the glimpse of green grass and small copses of trees was never too far away, there was an unexpected chill mixed in with the ceaseless breeze.

  As they traveled deeper into the desert, Thomas chose their route carefully, avoiding the loose sand and the massive dunes that surrounded them as much as possible. He had a knack for finding hardened ground between the dunes that offered good shade and hidden oases, where they could rest under the clumped palm trees and refill their canteens and water bags before continuing on their journey. To Kaylie it seemed almost as if he had been here before and that he had some destination in mind and knew how to get there. But when she asked him about it Thomas was noncommittal, simply saying that he had a general idea of the direction that they needed to take.

  Her mind drifted to other things as she took in the stark and beautiful scenery. She was transfixed by the small, whirling dervishes of sand that spun up unexpectedly at the touch of a gust of wind. Even the snakes, scorpions and other slithering and skittering creatures that hid themselves under the shadows of the rocks, waiting for darkness to emerge, were of interest. And far above them, in the bright blue, clear sky, was a huge kestrel, drifting from one air current to the next as it tracked their progress between the dunes. Clearly it was a rough land, but there was a beauty as well, and a quiet, a peacefulness to it, that she enjoyed. That sense of calm and peace didn’t seem to extend to the people who inhabited this arid land.

  When they first entered the sands, Thomas had explained a bit about the Clanwar Desert and how it got its name. By how he talked about this rarely visited Kingdom, Kaylie thought that perhaps Thomas’ knowledge was based less on books and more on experience, but she couldn’t be sure. As Thomas recounted, there were four clans: the Ashanti, Tuareg, Berber and Massaii. They were once one tribe and ruled the trade routes through the desert, taxing the caravans that sought to connect the Highlands and the Northern Steppes with the trading cities of the northwest — Faralan on the Winter Sea and Laurag on the western coast just south of the Distant Islands — before the construction of the Breaker.

  For centuries the arrangement worked quite well. But the Desert Kingdom disintegrated a thousand years before the Great War when a younger brother of the Desert Chief assassinated him and tried to take the throne for himself. This started a vicious civil war that lasted for hundreds of years. Over time, as allegiances shifted, the desert peoples finally concluded that any hope for rebuilding the Kingdom had come to an end. In the interest of establishing a lasting peace, the four clans had divided the former Kingdom into four territories.

  Each clan still raided the others, but it had evolved into a regular competition rather than endless skirmishes. Blood could not be drawn by a blade unless it involved a duel agreed to by both warriors. Even then the fight was to first blood and not to the death.

  Like the Highlanders, the Desert Clan warriors were few in number compared to the other Kingdoms, and they didn’t want to waste the lives of their fighters in such a way. To make certain that these and other customs continued to function effectively, and so that the four clans would coexist as they had learned to do over the centuries, twice a year the four Desert Chiefs met and dealt with any disputes or opportunities, negotiating such matters as water and grazing rights. It was much like the Council of the Kingdoms, just more frequent and on a smaller scale.

  Thomas noted that the Desert Clans had their problems, feuds popping up from time to time between them that threatened the peace that had held since the Great War. But the Desert Clans all agreed on one thing. They didn’t want anyone not of the desert entering the sands without the permission of at least one of the Desert Chiefs. At first Kaylie had hoped to meet some of these desert dwellers. But now, upon listening to Thomas, she wasn’t so sure that she wanted her wish to come true.

  Their second evening in the desert, Thomas had found a small oasis with an abundance of water and shade. Kaylie and Thomas still sensed the darkness tracking them, but it was leagues away and barely tickled their senses, as it had not yet entered the desert itself. Oso set the guard schedule, and this time, much to Kaylie’s surprise, she didn’t have the third watch as had been her plight since she had forced her way into the small expedition. Oso had given her the first watch. She smiled to herself as she sat down with her evening meal next to Thomas so that she could eat quickly before she went off to take up her post.

  It seemed that the Marchers were beginning to accept her, and that filled her with a sense of accomplishment. Perhaps now she could also learn a bit more about what they were trying to achieve. Having focused on working to make herself a part of the group, as she was doing that she didn’t feel that she had the right to demand to know their intentions. And before that she had only pried a few pieces of information from her father before slipping out of Eamhain Mhacha to follow after Thomas. So she decided that if she was well and truly a member of this ragtag bunch, she deserved to know the extent of the challenge that they faced.

  “Thomas, I’ve learned in speaking with Oso and some of the other Marchers that we’re in search of a key. But why? Obviously it must be important, but what exactly does this key do?”

  “Your father didn’t tell you?”

  “No, he was very circumspect when I spoke to him about it. I think he was afraid that I might want to go with you if I knew the purpose of the venture.”

  “Apparently his fear was well founded.”

  “Be that as it may,” replied Kaylie, her face flushing scarlet despite her efforts to ignore the jibe, “why is this key the objective?”

  “The Key provides access to the Shadow Lord’s lair, Blackstone. It’s the only way to enter that dead city and escape the traps crafted from Dark Magic laid for those who may try to enter who have not pledged themselves to the Shadow Lord.”

  “My father spoke of the Shadow Lord,” Kaylie said. “But how could the Shadow Lord remain such a threat after all this time? I thought the Kingdoms defeated him during the Great War.”

  “Defeated but not destroyed. He survived, and he has but one goal. Subjugation of the Kingdoms and all who live within them. Ogren and Shades and all the other dark creatures that plague the Kingdoms exist but for one purpose. To serve the Shadow Lord. They do not have free will. Consider Chertney.”

  Kaylie shivered at the thought. There was something off about Chertney, something unsettling, and at times terrifying because of the power that he controlled. “What about him?”

  “As you kn
ow, Chertney has the ability to control Dark Magic. You can obtain that power only one way. By giving yourself, heart and soul, to the Shadow Lord. Remember as well the black-clad men we’ve run into who have pledged themselves to the Shadow Lord. They sought a power that only the Lord of the Shadow possesses, and he guards it jealously. Chertney and these other fools, all desperate for power, are playing a shell game that’s fixed. No matter which shell they turn over they won’t find the prize that they’re seeking. In the end, the only thing they’ll find is suffering and death.”

  “But what makes you think that the Shadow Lord is returning? Even with his dark creatures, nothing has been heard from him in centuries.”

  “True. But remember that every dark creature is tied to the Shadow Lord. Ogren, Shade, Fearhound, someone like Chertney. That’s how the Shadow Lord expands his power, regenerates his strength. The more creatures that he commands, the more people he seduces and turns to his own purposes, the more power he obtains and the more substance he achieves. And the more powerful that he becomes, the better his chances of breaking out from the Charnel Mountains and taking the fight beyond the Breaker.”

  “The Sylvana are expected to hold him back from the Kingdoms. Isn’t that what happened during the Great War?”

  “It did, but the Sylvan Warriors are fewer in number now, and many of the Kingdoms have ignored the signs. They care nothing about the increasing number of raids by dark creatures beyond the Breaker. In fact, Rodric as High King was the perfect proxy for the Shadow Lord.”

  “Rodric divided the Kingdoms,” said Kaylie, her natural political acumen coming to the forefront. “Some Kingdoms allied to him, seeking to gain by his actions. Others opposed him, trying to prevent him from attaining more power. Regardless of where the various Kingdoms stood, it directed their attention away from the Shadow Lord.”