by David Adams
Darius had only taken a few steps when Xanar’s bow sang out. He could hear the arrow as it whistled by, wondering at its proximity and whether he had been used to shield his friend’s actions. He tried to follow the arrow as it sailed into the blackness around them, but quickly lost it. He stopped where he was, hoping to hear some sound or see some reaction that would tell him what affect the shot might have had, but all was still.
Xanar ran past him and he followed. Some twenty yards into the small wood the elf stooped to study the ground, holding up a finger to halt Darius’ forming question before it left his lips. Adrianna was close behind, arriving as Xanar rose up, shaking his head.
“A miss?” she asked, responding to his reaction.
“Actually, no,” he answered, clearly perturbed. “I saw it, I hit it. It didn’t even try to avoid the arrow.”
“But…”
“But no sign of it, I know. No tracks. No blood.”
“You’re sure you didn’t miss?” Darius asked gently. “It’s dark. It’s late.”
“Xanar does not miss,” Uesra replied. She, Barlow, and Silas had been alerted by the sound of the bow, and were only a few steps behind Adrianna in reaching Xanar and Darius. “And even if he did, it would not explain the lack of tracks.”
Darius could have countered that the lack of tracks might simply mean nothing had been there, but he kept that thought to himself. Rather, he asked, “Did you get a good enough look at it to describe it to us?”
“A long look in terms of time, but, as you said, it is dark. As before, a deeper shadow, a vague shape. But this time I saw eyes, sapphire blue with white spots like stars floating in them. At first glance those eyes are almost impossible to see, but after a time… I know something was there.”
Silas and Barlow exchanged a look and the old paladin sighed, drawing the attention of the others. He gestured with a hand for Silas to speak.
“You are not mistaken,” the cleric said. “What you have described is a shade, a spirit from the abyss. It would leave no track, nor fear any weapon we might wield.”
“There is little doubt it is here as a spy of the enemy,” Barlow added.
“What can we do about it?” Xanar asked. “Have I run it off?”
“Not far, I would guess,” Silas said. “There are other weapons not made of steel or wood that we might try. If any of you see it return, let Barlow and I know. For now, take heart. It is a spy, true, but it can do us no physical harm. And it will be hard-pressed to follow us unseen in the light of day.”
Silas’ words were sincere, but they brought little comfort to the others.
* * *
The next day a brilliant sun blazed in the morning sky, and the air was crisp and clean. It was hard to imagine a spirit of the underworld hunting them on such a day, and as the morning drew on their own spirits lifted, seeing no sign of the visitor from the previous evening. But in the early afternoon things began to change. The trees grew more dense, and the area between them was filled with tangles of long grass, weeds, and thorny bushes. Their pace, brisk when they set out, was now slow, and the river, with its promise of more open space in which to walk, was many days away. “Now we know why they built the road,” Barlow grumbled.
To further darken their mood, heavy clouds rolled in, and the world was cast into a grey twilight. The wilderness through which they traveled suddenly seemed even more sinister and close, almost as if the sunshine and cool air of the early morning was bait to get them to lower their guard and walk into a trap. Visibility became worse, but that only mattered when they could spare an eye to look about, which wasn’t often. The knotted growths through which they slogged saw to it that they maintained most of their attention on what was right before their feet, else they might take a tumble.
Adriana saw it first this time, floating among the trees off to their left. “Our friend is back,” she commented casually. “Thirty yards to your left, slightly behind us.”
“Keep moving for now,” Silas said, “but slow up a bit. Let’s see if we can get it to close in on us. Nobody look at it directly.” Silas returned his voice to a more normal volume and said, “Odd the way the weather changes here. Is this common in Longvale?”
“This time of year and through spring, yes,” Darius replied, playing along. The group commenced having a discussion about the weather, the outlook for crops, and other trivial matters while subtly slowing their already laborious pace. At least the knots, tangles, and thorns made that part of the ruse easy to accomplish. Here and there they stole furtive glances back, sometimes seeing nothing, at others noting the shade moving from one shadow to the next.
Silas and Barlow had worked their way to the back of the line. “Dark’s coming on fast,” Barlow whispered. “We need to move soon.”
Silas nodded. “It’s closer now. Can you dismiss it if I hold it?”
Barlow offered a wan smile. “Never got the chance to prove it to myself before. I’ll say ‘I hope so.’ Best I can offer.”
Silas returned the smile. “I’ll take it”
Barlow gave Silas a nod, then grabbed a handful of weeds that came nearly to his waist, as if preparing to thrust them out of his way. He feigned being caught for a moment—an excuse for him to stop, and for Silas to turn and help him.
Silas could see the shade over Barlow’s shoulder, just visible behind a tree. He said several words in an ancient tongue, and the shade’s sapphire eyes flashed in surprise, knowing in one instant that it was both spotted and trapped.
Barlow wheeled about, speaking in the same language, repeating the words in a chant. The shade gave off a low moan, which slowly rose in volume and pitch until it became a grating shriek. Barlow closed his eyes and continued the chant, and the scream suddenly stopped. The shade, barely substantial in the first place, faded even further, and then vanished altogether.
“Is it gone?” Darius asked.
Barlow nodded.
“What did you do to it?” asked Xanar.
“Sent it back to the pit,” Silas said. “Some creatures from below can be compelled by greater powers to come and go. This one was likely pressed into service by a greater demon, or even one of the brothers. But we called on a higher power to send it back. It did not want to obey, as you heard, but it had no choice.”
“Can it come back?” Uesra wanted to know.
Silas shrugged. “Not for some time. But there are many others like it in the abyss. We may have a respite from being watched, but we cannot count on it holding for long.”
“And the way we had to dismiss it will draw its own sort of attention,” Barlow added. “Silas is right to say our time moving unseen will likely be brief.”
“I’m still happy we lost that thing,” Darius said.
“We all are,” said Uesra. She peered up at the darkening sky. “Let’s see if we can put some distance between us and this place while we can. A few days of unmarked travel would be welcome.”
They pushed into the deepening gloom, wondering how far they could go before the falling dark and choking wilderness forced them to stop for the night.
* * *
Kaelesh smiled as his brother’s image coalesced in front of him. “You have news. I can tell.”
Orgoth nodded. “The group with the Blood Book has been located.”
“Already? My compliments on your speed. How did you accomplish it?”
“Shades. Thousands of them.”
Kaelesh laughed. “I should have known. There have been rumblings about hauntings, ghosts prowling the countryside. Not that any have said so directly to me, but I have ways of keeping up with the latest rumors.”
“Always wise. As far as those with the book, there are a few…interesting facts about them. I’m tempted to even say ‘surprises,’ but that is perhaps too strong a word.”
“Go on.”
“There are only six in the group. Two are Ice Elves—”
“As Praad’s servant indicated.”
“Yes. Two othe
rs are holy men. They actually were able to dismiss the shade that found and was tracking them.”
“So they now move unmarked?”
“For a brief time,” Orgoth replied. He held up an open hand. “Patience, my brother. Many other shades are now on the way to them.”
Kaelesh shook his head and managed to laugh softly at himself. “You are right, of course. It is a rare day when you need to preach patience to me.”
“I am eager to get at them, as well. But they won’t escape. I do not think they are even trying to.”
Kaelesh’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
“I mean they are moving south. They are in the wilderness rather than taking the road, but they seem to be coming toward us rather than fleeing.”
Kaelesh pondered that for a while. “I wonder what that means.”
“Maybe nothing. It may be chance, it may be they have some reason to come this way, even for a time, and that they’ll turn aside at some point. However, given the time that they’ve held the book, and what happened to Praad, one other possibility seems more likely.”
“And what is that?”
“They’re coming for us.”
Kaelesh sat back and slowly nodded. “Maybe they are. Foolish, but interesting. I assume you’re now heading to meet them?”
Orgoth smiled. “If they seek us, it is time to give them what they want.”
“Very good. And Orgoth?”
“Yes.”
“Do be careful. I would have thought Praad far beyond them, but—”
For the first time in the conversation Orgoth showed a flash of his temper. “I am not Praad.”
Kaelesh answered with a paternal smile. “I am aware of that. Please do not miss my point by engaging in word play and feigned insult.”
Orgoth grunted. “Your point is taken. I will take care of our problem swiftly and then return.”
After Orgoth was gone, Kaelesh was left to wonder at the feeling of unease the conversation had instilled in him, a feeling he couldn’t force himself to shake off. He had said those with the book would be foolish to actually come looking for he and his brothers, and he believed that was truly the case. And yet they had faced Praad and won. They had done so perhaps with help from others or just through sheer luck, but they had won. Did they really have cause to believe they could do so again?
* * *
The wilderness had toyed with them for three long days, sometimes slowing them to a near-crawl, at others giving way such that they hoped they had passed the worst of it and would make better time from then on. In a way it mattered little to the company. There was a sense that a showdown was coming, whether instigated by them or not, and that as long as they made cautious progress forward they were doing okay.
As had happened before, twilight brought with it an unwelcome visitor. Darius checked twice to be sure, then said to Xanar, “We have company again.”
“Just saw it,” Xanar replied, adding a tip of his head to indicate where he was looking.
Darius scowled, confused, then turned slightly to see the spot Xanar had indicated. “Okay, this isn’t good.”
Now Xanar was the one wearing the puzzled look, and upon seeing it Darius added, “Mine’s to your right. There are two of them.”
Within three minutes the whole party was aware of the shades, and that now there were at least four. They were keeping their distance, but circling and doing so more and more openly, as if they knew what had befallen the first, and wanted to show they wouldn’t be caught in the same way.
“It bothers me that they are suddenly being so indiscrete,” Darius said.
“It should bother you,” Uesra told him.
“That’s not very reassuring.”
She shrugged. “Wasn’t meant to be.”
“Can you do anything?” Adrianna asked Barlow and Silas.
“We could work at it, over time,” Silas answered. “But it looks like it won’t matter.” He pointed to the rear, realizing that since the shades were showing themselves openly that there was little reason to pretend that he and his companions weren’t aware of their presence. A group of three shades were closing fast from behind the travelers, and these soon joined the others in circling the still-advancing party.
An hour later they decided to halt for the night. They made an odd game out of counting the shades while they ate, unsure whether their numbers had grown to sixteen, as Barlow, Darius, and Adrianna thought, seventeen, as counted by Xanar and Silas, or eighteen, as put forth by Uesra. “My guess is Uesra will be right eventually,” Darius said, “even if she isn’t at the moment. I should probably just go right to twenty.”
“And then see how long until your number is short,” Xanar added.
Even with reassurances that the shades could do them no physical harm, the companions built a large fire that night, intending to keep it blazing until morning. As its light stretched thin fingers into the encroaching dark, the shades, tirelessly circling like sharks that can never rest, began to emit low moans. A chorus soon formed, the cries of the creatures working on the minds and nerves of the travelers.
“Going to be hard to sleep with that racket,” Barlow groused.
“Probably their intention,” Silas said.
“Doubt I could sleep with them so close anyway,” Darius noted. “Can’t stop thinking about what might be using them to watch us, and when that ‘what’ might act.”
With that they settled around the fire for what would prove a long night.
* * *
Dawn brought no relief from the shades. Revealed now, there to track and harass, they did not flee into the deeper shadows with the coming of the light. Rather, they continued their endless circling about the company, and maintained both their distance and their noise level as the travelers set out.
“Guess they never get tired,” Darius lamented.
Silas shook his head. “They will never rest, neither here nor elsewhere. I pity them.”
“I’d pity them more if they’d just be quiet for a while,” Adrianna said. She sighed and rubbed her tired eyes to clear the spots playing on her sleep-starved vision.
“Two can play at that game,” Xanar said. Before anyone could ask what he meant, he started shouting, “Boo! Boo!” and ran for the nearest shades, which scattered before him. He laughed at them openly and gave them a dismissive wave. He ignored the fact that by the time he had returned to his friends the shades were back in place and still letting out their constant ululations. Even so, his charge won him a group of smiles and a couple of pats on the back. Somehow the ease with which they gave way had brought some comfort to all. “At least we can show them we’re not afraid of them,” Xanar said. He told Adrianna, “When they start getting on your nerves too much, give it a try.”
To Xanar’s surprise, Adrianna’s reaction to the comment was a twitch of her lips, which grew into a playful grin. She ran off as he had, letting out a banshee yell, scattering the shades before her and then turning against the flow of the circling creatures. They gave way and widened the arc of their path even further, until she finally tired of trying to run through the brambles and long grass. “You were right,” she told Xanar, even as she was still trying to catch her breath. “Pointless, but I do feel better.”
As they marched on they thought the shades were keeping a slightly more respectful distance, which helped somewhat with the noise level, or rather would have had their numbers not continued to grow. There were now over a hundred of them.
* * *
Two days later they were less than an hour into their daily march when Darius said, “It’s odd how you can get used to almost anything, that after a time even the bizarre can become mundane.”
“The shades?” Xanar asked.
Darius nodded. “I slept fine last night, and hardly gave them a thought this morning. It’s like they’re just part of the scenery now, constantly spitting out background noise. If you had told me a year ago I could be surrounded by hundreds of creatures
from below and hardly pay them any attention, I’d have said you were crazy.”
“Actually, you’d probably have wondered why an Ice Elf was speaking to you in the first place,” Xanar noted. “Especially such a handsome one.”
Darius shook his head and rolled his eyes. “We need a mirror to bring you back to reality.”
“Let me have my delusions while I can.”
After the time of mirth had passed, Silas spoke. “Darius is right about the shades. I’ve learned to practically ignore them as well. But we can’t let our guard down too much. They’re escorting us for a reason. We need to look beyond them. That is where the danger might lie.”
* * *
Five days later they heard the soft sigh of the Vale River as it wound its way south. They pushed through a final screen of brush and came into the open, happy to see the wide, barren shoulders of the Vale. The river was slow-moving but broad and deep, and it was well that they would not need to cross it. Feeling they had reached an important landmark, they took a brief rest and had a small bite to eat.
The shades took no notice of the river, continuing in their endless circle around the company, still providing a dull cacophony of noise. The travelers had settled down close enough to the water that the shades now glided over the surface of the river in a long arc, a sight which drew the attention of those still living.
“That looks strange,” Darius said. “I knew they had no feet, and could tell they floated, but still, to see them go over the water like that…”
“Reminds us that they are spirits,” Adrianna said while nodding in agreement.
“And that we cannot hope to flee from them,” added Silas. “It is good we did not wear ourselves out trying to do so.”
Silas spoke the truth, as they had managed to keep their pace and their wits despite the otherworldly shades, but the days were taking a toll. As much as they tried to ignore the shades, they were on edge, waiting for something to happen. The fact that nothing had was no great relief. The shades had to be harbingers of some coming challenge, and waiting to see what that might be left them with frayed nerves. They were more than ready to confront whatever might await them, if only to ease the unceasing tension for a time.