The Fight Against the Dark

by Wacht, Peter

  Though it often took a day or more for the cargo of one ship at the top of the falls to be transferred to a ship at the bottom, the delay was worth it, as traveling by land added weeks or more to any journey, for there was nowhere else but Great Falls to travel up or down the Cliffs of Kenmare. For Rendael of Kenmare, this fact proved to be a boon, as the taxes and fees he levied for moorings and the transfer of cargo kept his treasury well stocked and his Kingdom solvent.

  As the Marchers entered through the main gates of the port city, swallowed by the mass of merchants and travelers who had made Great Falls a stopping point, Thomas ignored the stalls and vendors selling everything from Distant Island spices to Ferranagh tobacco. Instead, he studied the walls that rose behind him, satisfied that Ogren could not breach them easily, though a Shade might attempt to make its way into the city during the dark of night.

  Thomas felt the pull of the Key more intensely as he traveled steadily to the northwest. At first just an itch between his shoulder blades, now he could feel the tug in his gut. And with each passing day that pull grew stronger. He couldn’t explain why, but he knew that they needed to continue toward Inishmore and then the Western Ocean. Therefore, they had to find a ship below the Falls that would take them to Faralan, and then from there to Laurag, the capital of Inishmore, all while avoiding the Whorl. That deadly obstacle, at least, should be well to the northeast this time of the year and less of a threat.

  Thomas turned back around as Oso led them through the throng in search of an inn in a quieter part of the city. He breathed a sigh of relief, letting go of the tension that had been building up within him during the last few days. They would be safe here, at least for the moment. For several days he had not sensed the darkness that had trailed them through the Clanwar Desert, nor had Kaylie, almost as if it were allowing the Ogren and Fearhounds to do its work for it. Perhaps the pursuing evil had been put off by the natural defenses of the city.

  Heading away from the river, Oso and the Marchers pushed their way through the crowds until they found the Hunter’s Rest, a small inn tucked up against the city’s northern wall and away from the controlled chaos of the market squares. Clean and quiet, with a great room for meals, the Marchers settled in easily to their new surroundings. Exhausted by their escape from the Ogren, the Marchers ate first, then enjoyed baths before finding themselves back in the great room for drinks and stories. Oso and Aric in particular were eager to find out as much as they could as to what might be happening to the west and in Inishmore, a Kingdom known for its instability, and their next destination. Therefore, they spent a good bit of their time talking with the merchants and other travelers sprinkled about the room to acquire what gossip that they could.

  Kaylie enjoyed the opportunity to relax, letting her fears and concerns go at least for a time. Though Kaylie wasn’t so sure about Thomas, who had settled his chair against the wall of the great room so that he could see all that was going on around them and anyone entering the inn. He appeared to be dozing, but Kaylie knew better.

  “You can’t relax, can you?”

  Thomas didn’t even bother to open his eyes. “What do you mean?”

  “I can feel it, you know. You’re extending your senses even now.”

  Thomas opened his eyes and smiled. He leaned forward, bringing the back of his chair off the wall. He glanced around the common room briefly, glad to see that his Marchers were enjoying themselves, and pleased even more that they all remained sober and watchful, wanting to be prepared in case anything unexpected happened.

  “It’s a habit I find difficult to break.”

  “Do you ever just let go? Or are you always so tempered in your approach? So controlled?”

  Thomas took a moment before responding. “I haven’t had much practice in letting my worries go. It seems that whenever I try to do so, it proves to be a mistake.”

  Kaylie winced on the inside, thinking that Thomas might be referring to when they had first spent time together at the Eastern Festival, and what had happened when he had perhaps done just that to meet her for their picnic. She didn’t want to remember the cost that he had paid for that decision and the angst and guilt that she had finally released after months of anguish.

  “But don’t you often feel the same, Kaylie?” Thomas continued. “Raised to rule a Kingdom, forced to take on responsibilities and burdens that weigh you down and bring you nothing but boredom or grief?”

  “It’s not always like that,” she protested.

  “True, but much of the time …”

  “Much of the time it feels exactly like that,” Kaylie confirmed with a sigh. She grinned as she thought about it a bit more. “I do have to admit, though, that even with all that we’ve been through, the last few weeks have been a great deal of fun.”

  Thomas chuckled. “You mean riding in a saddle for days on end, being chased by and having to fight Ogren, cold food, the stench of Marchers too long without a bath …”

  “And the opportunity to make my own decisions, feeling like I’m a part of something important, that I’m contributing. That I’m accepted for who I am and what I can do, not because of the title that I bear.”

  Thomas smiled, staring into Kaylie’s eyes. She felt as if he were taking in everything about her. As a result, her cheeks flushed, her body growing warm.

  “I understand that completely,” he replied.

  Enjoying each other’s company in silence a few minutes more, the warmth of the room built on their exhaustion. They decided to turn in, Thomas stopping to talk with Oso and Aric for a few minutes before following Kaylie upstairs to the sleeping rooms. The Marchers were sharing rooms. Thomas and Kaylie had their own chambers. Though smaller in size, they appreciated the privacy.

  Kaylie opened the door to her room, then turned back toward Thomas. He stood there quietly, a small smile playing across his lips.

  “Thomas, tonight was a welcome change …”

  Before she could say anything else, he leaned forward, kissing her softly on the lips. Surprised for just an instant, Kaylie quickly responded, and the gentle kiss became stronger, lasting for what seemed like a much longer time than it really was. Finally, breathless, Kaylie pulled back, her face flushed red.

  Kaylie smiled.

  Thomas nodded. “Good night, then. Make sure you lock your door.” He then turned and entered his room, closing the door softly behind him.

  Kaylie stood there in the hallway for a full minute, not moving. Finally, she stepped into her room, closing and locking the door. She normally didn’t like surprises, but that one had certainly appealed to her.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY TWO

  Trailing Shadow

  The next morning Thomas and Oso went out to the docks before the sun rose, seeking a ship anchored below the falls that could take them west. The pull from the Key had grown more insistent, a slowly building ache. Thomas was convinced that his final location was beyond Laurag now, somewhere in the Distant Islands. But he wouldn’t know for sure until they headed in that direction.

  Much to their irritation, despite several hours of effort, they couldn’t locate a ship that would take them all the way to Afara as all of the captains sailing in that direction were unwilling to brave the mercurial waters of the far northwest. The best that they could do was a merchant vessel bound for Laurag. Wanting to keep moving and be on their way as soon as possible, they reached terms with a captain who had come to the bottom of the falls to ensure his cargo was handled properly.

  Looking a bit rough about the edges but appearing to be exceedingly competent, Torlan, captain of the Waverunner, told them to have their party at the bottom of the falls by daybreak. Oso and Thomas then jumped onto the lifts that would take them back to the top of the falls and walked in the direction of their inn, satisfied that their work for the day had been a success. As they made their way through the crowds, markets and squares that dominated the city’s business and cultural activity, Thomas tried to take his time and experience what was going
on around him as Kaylie had suggested. Rather than rushing from one point to the next, he and Oso stopped to watch the various street performers or examine some strange and exotic good that they had never seen before. For a time, Thomas enjoyed himself, but as he approached the inn his unusual calm was shattered when his senses prickled, a feeling of danger sweeping over him.

  It wasn’t Ogren or Shades. The war party that had tracked them from the mountains had stayed away from the city, obviously hoping to pick up their scent once they left the safe confines of Great Falls. No, this feeling differed. It was more subtle, but just as dangerous. Several times Thomas looked back over his shoulder, sensing an imminent threat, expecting an attack, but finding nothing to suggest that his concern was justified, as there was nothing around him and Oso but the regular ebb and flow of too many people crammed into too small a space.

  Nevertheless, the feeling continued to plague him. It felt like the shadow of darkness that he and Kaylie had identified as they traveled from Eamhain Mhacha into the Clanwar Desert, always on the very limit of their senses, then slipping away for a time before coming back to tease him.

  Reaching the inn as night fell, Thomas explained the next step in their journey to the Marchers. All were satisfied with the arrangements, as they, too, wanted to keep on the move. Resolved to an early start, after dinner they all retired to their rooms to prepare for the journey, while Oso and Aric went to the horse traders by the main gates to the city, seeking to make accommodations for their mounts, which wouldn’t be accompanying them.

  When Thomas reached his room, Kaylie stopped just behind him, her hand resting on the doorknob to her room.

  “Thomas …”

  “Yes, Kaylie?”

  There was a hopeful yet hesitant quality in Kaylie’s voice. There seemed to be something that she wanted to say or do. An awkward silence settled between them as Thomas was still distracted by the sense of evil that had touched him earlier in the day. Just as Kaylie was about to say something, Thomas spoke.

  “Kaylie, yesterday I …” He knew what he wanted to say, but didn’t know how.

  Noting his discomfort, Kaylie found the courage that Thomas seemed to lack.

  “You feel like you made a mistake last night. That you shouldn’t have kissed me.” Her voice was quiet, disappointed.

  Thomas looked at her in surprise. “No, not at all,” he stammered. “It’s just that …”

  “Thomas, you’ll confront an Ogren, a Shade, other dark creatures without fear. Why is it that I scare you?”

  Thomas bowed his head and sighed. “Because I care about you. When I look into your eyes, I lose myself in them. When I kissed you last night, it felt right. I wanted to kiss you again and again. But I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “How could you hurt me?” asked Kaylie. “Last night I seem to recall kissing you in return.”

  “Yes, I know.” Raising his head, her warm expression made it difficult for him to think clearly, the urge to reach for her growing stronger. But he fought the impulse. “We both know what will likely happen when I face the Shadow Lord.”

  Thomas saw the change instantly come across Kaylie, her eyes turning hard, her expression determined. “You need to give yourself more credit, Thomas.” She spoke in a voice that reminded him of her role as the Princess of Fal Carrach, strong, clear, with authority that could not be ignored. “And remember, what happens between us, it’s something that we both decide. Both of us. Are we clear?”

  Thomas nodded, at a loss for words.

  Then Kaylie nodded. Leaning forward she kissed him gently on the cheek before she stepped quickly into her room, locking the door behind her.

  Thomas stood there for a moment, staring at the rough wood of the door. Not sure what had just happened, he felt as if he had failed an important test. And not knowing what else to do, he walked into his room, cursing silently for not being able to express himself well or clearly, something that certainly couldn’t be said of Kaylie.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY THREE

  Wraith

  Thomas had a hard time sleeping that night, tossing and turning, his mind never turning off. The conversation with Kaylie continued to play through his mind, and each time it did it didn’t improve. Moreover, the feeling of approaching evil kept getting stronger, stalking him, but despite the handful of times that he sought to use the Talent to pinpoint the location of the threat, he failed. The darkness was too amorphous, always moving, always shifting, always just a touch beyond his grasp. Struggling to identify the evil that plagued him, that kept getting closer and closer, he leapt from his bed, pulling his sword from its scabbard. He stood there in his underclothes, the early morning chill no more than a minor distraction. His senses were on edge, and he strained for any hint of what to expect. As the minutes passed, he felt the evil continue its slow advance, now no more than a few feet away. But he still couldn’t pinpoint it. Although every fiber of his being told him that he was in mortal peril, nothing seemed out of place. All was quiet in the inn. There was nothing to suggest that danger was close. Still, a shiver went up Thomas’ spine as the approaching evil crept closer, the miasma of wickedness almost sickening him.

  A slight knock at the door startled him. Sword at the ready, the sense of wrongness flooding the room, Thomas extended his senses, prepared to strike at whatever threatened. Kaylie stood in the hallway. Worried for her safety, Thomas opened the door quickly, pulling her into his room as he looked up and down the hallway. Seeing that all was as it should be, he closed the door behind him.

  “Can you feel it?” Thomas asked Kaylie. “That cloud of darkness that was always just on the edge of our senses? It’s close, very close.”

  “I don’t feel anything, Thomas.”

  “It’s here. Somewhere. Closer than it’s ever been.”

  Thomas crept to the window, peering out at the street below, careful to make sure that he wasn’t seen by anyone who might be watching his small chamber. Their rooms were on the top floor with no easy way down. But perhaps there was a way up if they needed to make their escape, thinking that he could use the ceiling overhang if need be to pull himself up onto the roof. He debated rousing the Marchers, the sense of evil clouding his senses, consuming him, when a quick movement at his back diverted him from his thoughts.

  “Thomas, stop for a moment,” said Kaylie, her hand gliding softly across his back, stopping to trace the scars that crisscrossed his skin from his time at the hands of the High King. The marks of the whip had faded, but the furrows into his flesh had never left him.

  Thomas stepped away from Kaylie, his back to the wall. He hadn’t really noticed Kaylie when he pulled her into his room, more worried about what danger might be lurking in the hallway. He was shocked by what he saw now, his eyes wide and mouth open.

  Kaylie stood there in her shirt and nothing else, the top open, buttons undone to reveal soft, white skin. Her toned legs were hard to miss. She had a hand on her hip, jutting a bit to the side, to accentuate the curves of her body. If he stared hard enough, he could make out the slopes of her breasts. Her eyes were sultry, mouth pouty. Thomas had no idea what to do. He had kissed her the night before, yes, but that just felt like the right thing to do at the time. He had never expected that this would be next. What had come over her?

  Caught by her eyes, Thomas stood frozen against the wall, his sword threatening to slip from his grasp. Kaylie approached him, hips swaying provocatively, her movements inhumanly graceful and sinuous. Kaylie raised her hands to his shoulders, then ran them softly up and down his chest. His sword barely remained in his hand, the tip digging into the wooden floor, forgotten, as he watched Kaylie’s soft lips approach his own.

  “We’ve danced around this long enough,” she said, her breath hot in his ear. “It’s time. It’s time that you became mine.”

  Kaylie raised her lips to his, pressing her body against him as her hands sought to cup his face. His eyes closed in anticipation, what he had dreamed of about to become reality. But
the mood was broken when the door to his room slammed back against the wall and tilted at an angle, its top hinge broken.

  “You cannot have him!” screamed Kaylie.

  What! Two Kaylies? Thomas tried to move away from where he was pinned against the wall, but the Kaylie who held him there kept a firm grip on him as she turned to face the one who had just entered his room. “Too late, Princess. He will be mine, and then I will take you as well.”

  The Kaylie holding him up against the wall turned back to him, but this time her eyes were different. Darker. Harder. Predatory. When she leaned in toward him, mouth open, he saw a forked tongue slipping out, her teeth now sharp, pointed, like those of a shark.

  Thomas finally recognized the danger and tried to get away from this creature that had taken on Kaylie’s appearance. But he couldn’t. Her eyes still held him. He couldn’t break away. He couldn’t turn his gaze from the dark pools of shadow no matter how hard he tried, the soft blackness that played within, the orbs mesmerizing him. It reminded him of his encounter with the dark creature that attacked him in Eamhain Mhacha after the Council of the Kingdoms. The logical part of his mind considered the issue, remembering that the thing that he had fought that night had first appeared as Sarelle, Queen of Benewyn, before changing to Rendael, King of Kenmare, then finally Oso. The part of his mind that focused on survival screamed at him to move, to break free, but he couldn’t. Those spinning spheres of black kept him there, his muscles locked in place.

  Knowing that time was of the essence, Kaylie leapt forward, dagger outstretched. Sensing the threat, the creature holding Thomas whipped around, raising its arm to block the blow. But its arm had changed, as had the rest of its body. No longer resembling Kaylie, the dark creature’s skin had mutated into grey scales, its hair midnight black, just like the swirling pools of darkness that formed its eyes.

  Kaylie’s dagger strike glanced off the creature’s hardened forearm, but she maintained her attack as best she could in the confined space. Her flowing movements and quick jabs kept the creature off balance as it dodged and deflected Kaylie’s attacks. Yet Kaylie could not break through no matter what she tried. Even when her dagger struck the creature’s arms or penetrated its defenses to hit the creature’s chest, sparks flew as the steel slid across the scales, but her steel barely slowed down the dark creature, leaving no mark. The creature’s shifting scales were impenetrable, and Kaylie was tiring. Moreover, Thomas remained fixed against the wall, nothing but his eyes moving as he tracked the fight. All it would take for him to die would be a single swipe of the dark creature’s claw against his exposed throat. Kaylie couldn’t allow that. She had to keep the dark creature occupied, off balance.