Oblivion's Queen

by M. H. Johnson

  Lord Veitsi tutted mockingly. “You, little girl, should be snoring away, innocent as a lamb, till my cohort's men came to claim you. And even then you need not fret, merely prepare yourself for a life of splendor, assuming the Plagas and their friends survive their mad gamble.”

  Lord Fal laughed. “Let them have their black mass. If they survive it, we share in the power, bound as they are by their own oaths. If not, 'tis no loss for us, and the subdual of this wench assures their higher regard. Otherwise? I have no doubt Baron Calenbry would pay a pretty penny for her, and perhaps we can entice him to join us, strong as their bitches breed.”

  Lord Veitsi smirked, pointing at mages even now whispering dark chants in a desperate bid to reel in the great working they had immersed themselves in. “For a tactician you are blind, lass. Do you not see the coven of dark mages I have at my command? 'Twould be better for you by far to surrender without necessitating my having you blasted to the deepest Netherhells, Mord's oath aside.”

  The duelist among their number chuckled mockingly, doffing his tricorn hat in exaggerated fashion. "Truth to tell, I, for one, would love the opportunity to cross blades with you, wench, to savor your pretty screams as you tasted my steel." With a flourish he unsheathed his sword, a different weapon from the one he had used to silence the young scholar, and Jess sensed at that moment the dark patterns of vile magics flaring to life upon the blade, as if fed by the cries of the girls even now writhing in desperate pain.

  Jess glanced at Malek, realizing he understood as well. His small orbs, gathered in the depths of Shadow and remembered only in living dream were lazily spinning about his head, faintly crimson in hue from his own nicked cheek.

  “And what is your name, treacherous lord, you who would dare cross blades with the Calenbry Clan?” Jess's voice rang with the cool authority of a queen.

  “Lord Soldner,” the swordsman declared with a flourish, smiling for all that his gaze was icily intent on Jess, twirling his blade in lazy moulinets. “As much as I would love to duel with you, child of Calenbry, I am afraid now is not the ideal time or place. Best you surrender yourselves now, lest our dear wizards slay you where you stand.”

  He flashed a cold smile. “Perhaps your dear Mord will let you out of your kennel long enough to vent your bitter ire at life's cruel twists upon my blade. Fear not, I shall even make the point of not running you through, as you will no doubt be whelping his brats, though perhaps he won't mind my making use of that pretty little mouth of yours, when all is said and done.”

  Jess allowed his vile words to wash over her even as she slowly step-slid counter to the lazily strutting swordsman, she and Malek both, until the five increasingly nervous looking wand-wielders were between them and all three of the lords that were no doubt a part of the mysterious Black Council Jess had heard about in darkest whispers and rumors.

  Lord Veitsi glared at Jess from across the pentagram, perhaps sensing something. His voice was no longer amused, but coldly impatient. “Enough games, girl. This stops now! Lower your blade or perish. The choice is yours.”

  Twilight streaked to her side, flashing a satisfied grin. “It is done, my mistress.”

  Jess smiled. It was time. She boldly caught the gazes of each and every one of the five chanting wizards facing her, wands now pointed straight at her chest. Arrogant stares became confused, uncertain.

  Jess allowed the tension to stretch, imperiously locking gazes with each and every one of those hooded mages, and not a one could resist flinching under her glare.

  Her laughter scathed them with contempt. “Do you truly think it mere coincidence that I stumbled upon you here? That I am but some ignorant pawn in your silly little games? Do you fools still not understand?”

  She allowed her lips to curl in the most savage of grins, gleefully embracing the darkness welling up within her, daring them all to gaze upon her as she tore all restraint away.

  More than one man trembled before her gaze.

  "This all happens because I will it to! All of you, nothing more than puppets, dancing to my tune. Corrupt, fallen fools. Easy pickings for a true creature of madness!"

  Jess paused, sneering coldly at the increasingly disconcerted diabolists before her, allowing her words to sink in. Allowing their uncertainty to grow.

  "Have you not thought upon why Mord courts me so? Why the gambit at Highrock ended in disaster, so many of your pawns falling to my blade? Oh, you poor fools. So deluded as to think your petty dance of intrigue and infernal magics is other than a mere distraction, a feint for the true game being played by your betters, for dark powers the likes of which you pathetic mortals can scarce fathom!" Jess roared the last, smiling bleakly as her foes gave odd pause, only peripherally aware of how her words seemed to echo oddly through the vast chamber.

  “Focus on your casting, worms. Interfere not in converse between your betters!” Jess snapped, and the five chanting diabolists actually flinched, several lowering their wands, redoubling their efforts instead upon what was no doubt a complex, terrible summons. Indeed, Jess could feel it was so.

  "You wish to know my choice, Lord Veitsi?" She laughed mockingly even as her oddly heightened senses caught the captivating scent of their fear. "My, choice, fool, is to feast upon your souls!"

  Jess roared and charged with all eyes squarely upon her. Her enemies frozen in a moment's horror and confusion, gazing at her not as if she were an easily subdued child, but rather a queen of Hell herself.

  As she had intended, she thought, before losing herself entirely to the delicious fiery madness all but enveloping her as her burning blade cleaved effortlessly into the first robed diabolist she charged into, her opponent too horrified and confused to even focus his magics; instead screaming in panic, warding with his hands in futile terror as her blade sliced through limb and skull with chilling ease, the man collapsing in death even as she roared and launched herself towards the next infernalist, he shrieking curses with desperate abandon as Jess effortlessly sliced through the filmy webs of crimson magics roaring toward her, the ichor laden matrix shattering in a spray of sparks and the stench of brimstone.

  Jess's laughter was discordant, gasping with sudden fierce pleasure as ruptured power and souls flooded into her, her Zwerchhau strike tearing through the hooded skull of the second diabolist with a surgeon's precision, the cloak sliced cleanly through, her foe dropping in death as the crown of his skull spun through the air.

  Time itself seemed to slow.

  She registered the horrified gazes of the three wizards still standing upon the massive pentagram, even as yet another of their terrified faces explode in a spray of bone and brain, Malek's blade cleaving into it with a vicious overhand strike, the two remaining robed diabolists stumbling back in panic, even as Jess and Malek roared and charged in tandem, snapping out with their blades in unison, blasting through skulls and upraised hands with blinding speed, baptized in showers of crimson and shattered bone as the last of the wand wielding diabolists collapsed before them.

  Jess could feel herself drinking deep of their ruptured life force, a brew far headier than mere wine could ever be, even as the robed bodies hissed and shriveled at their feet.

  Malek's laughter was cold and dark. Perfect counterpoint to her own.

  Shock and awe. Thrown off balance by sudden fear of what they faced, no time to analyze her words and deduce bluff or deception. Crippling terror as their worst fears were realized, so boldly did she strike, her foes too flustered to utter more than a single Alexias of disorganized and easily cleaved spells as she quickly cut them down before they could regroup and possibly overwhelm her.

  And such had been her intent, as Eloquin would have no doubt approved.

  Infect your enemies with horror.

  Understand their worst fears, emasculate them with it, then via savage application of martial fury, turn their worst terrors into reality. Their shattered morale sealing tight their doom, and allowing for a crushing victory.

  Malek grinned ev
illy as they slowly approached the three horrified looking lords.

  “Your gambit has paid off well, my dark queen.” Malek's voice, loud and cold, resonated through the chambers. “For the price to be paid crossing your will is nothing less than the final death, eternal torment their only reward. Now then, shall we sup upon these fool's souls as well?”

  Jess smiled bleakly, impressed by how well her shieldbrother embraced his role, horrified by how much she reveled in it, how she could almost believe it all to be true.

  "Well said, Hound," Twilight purred, the horrified stares making it clear that the three pale-faced lords could see her familiar as well. "It has been too long since we fed ourselves properly. Ages since we butchered all those who crossed us at the diOnni chateau."

  Lord Veitsi stumbled back, his gaze equal parts awe and horror. "My lady. I did not understand. We did not understand. The Calenbry Clan. A dark power, no? One of the hidden daggers our great mistress has aligned to seize the worldly powers in the years to come, as was foretold. I understand now. Forgive me, mistress, for not appreciating the nuances of the game being played."

  His sickly smile did not fit his arrogant features, Jess thought, even as she turned her focus to Lord Soldner, the man raising his blade as Jess approached. Point high and elbow slightly bent, he was ready for a quick darting thrust or slash, facing Jess with the eyes of a man well used to the dueling ring, a man who knew what it was to dance upon the razor's edge. At the very least his mocking gaze had been replaced by that of a man who knew he fought for his life.

  “I suppose you will be getting that duel you craved after all,” he said with a dry chuckle. “Well then, I don't suppose it shall be to first blood, shall it?”

  Jess's lips peeled back in a rictus of darkest glee. Soldner suddenly froze, gazing at Jess with a sick horror even as he stumbled back. In that instant Jess already understood the nature of the man she faced, recalling his teasing strokes as he tested his opponent's mettle. Cautious, measuring, then coldly cruel when he knew his foe was hopelessly outmatched.

  She had seen him dance that dance with poor young Allen.

  This time, he would dance to her tune, as brief a dalliance as it would be.

  With a roar designed to freeze her enemy even if for but an instant, she exploded off her back foot, propelling herself forward, arms windmilling her blade in a blisteringly fast Scheitelhau strike, speed as much as power being her aim. Her blade was kept perfectly in line with her opponent, hilt forward so as to block any desperate counterblow, the spinning torque of her hands alone generating the power of her strike.

  It was a technique designed for swordsmen who sought to win as swiftly and decisively as possible, defending even as it aggressed. No great cleaving blow, it was still deadly quick, the blade never raised so high as to leave one open for a hasty counterthrust. It demanded one's opponent focus on defense alone, if they wished to avoid the ring of steel against skull.

  With a resounding crack her blade slammed into her opponent's head, his reinforced tricorn hat and desperately raised infernal sword preventing her own blade from shattering his skull. Yet still he stumbled back, stunned and off balance by the power behind her blow, equally fatal as she continued to charge into him, shattering his face with the pommel of her blade.

  Soldner's gaze became one of shocked agony as his mouth caved in, spraying Jess with teeth and blood. All grace and composure instantly fled, the wounded lord stumbled to the ground with a cry even as Jess whipped back her blade and tore out his unarmored throat with a killer's grace, no quarter given.

  She gazed coldly at a horrified Lord Veitsi looking on at his associate writhing upon the ground, Soldner's hands clenched like claws about his own neck in a desperate, futile attempt to quell the blood spurting from his throat, choking and gurgling, eyes wide with agony and the horror of his imminent death.

  Jess bent down, smiling coldly into the dying man's eyes. “You really, really shouldn't have run that boy through.”

  Covered in the blood of the men she had slain, Jess slowly approached the remaining pair of diabolists, even as they stumbled back with undisguised horror. “I think it's time to end this, don't you?”

  "What is it you want?" shrieked Lord Fal. "Anything! Name it, and it is yours!"

  Jess smiled. "I want the location of that which was stolen from Highrock, and the Chalice of Absolution."

  Both men quailed as she said the name aloud, Veitsi attempting a placating smile once more. "Ah. You seek to share power and influence with your betrothed, is that it? Understandable. Totally understandable! And how impressed he will be with your display of prowess, and how well I can set you and your entire family into the machinations in play, our dark mistress having finally revealed her hidden dagger to wreak havoc upon all our foes, yes? This I can do for you. This and more!"

  Lord Veitsi, reeking of sudden terror, spoke on breathlessly. "But forgive this one shortcoming, my mistress, for of course we know not where Pomell is. No man does, erased from common memory as the land fades to darkest nightmare and the sight of sacrifice, as was intended all along! Of course we destroyed all records of its location, as we were instructed to. By our mistress herself!”

  Shaking, he fell to his knees, as did Lord Fal. The massive chamber creviced between mundus and Shadow stunk of sulfur, blood, and fear. Screams of the three bound girls tore through Jess's heart and filled her with blackest fury. It was all she could do not to cleave both men dead as they kneeled before her and trembled, well able to see their death in her gaze.

  With an abrupt snarl she turned to her familiar's call, a satisfied nod of relief, the one light in an evening of horror and growing rage. Friends she loved with all her heart bruised, battered, but alive and whole.

  Josie. Shaking in Raphael's arms. He gazing at Jess with a look of such gratitude that there were no words for it, a look mirrored by his father, even as Josie gazed at Jess as if she were a demon incarnate herself.

  Jess could well imagine how she looked to Josie, wild-eyed, barely human, covered in the blood of the men she had butchered in their name.

  “By the gods, Jess, what did you do to him?”

  Jess blinked, allowing herself only a moment's confusion. The situation was too perilous for more than that.

  And then it struck her. Josie wasn't staring at Jess so much as the crumpled body of Lord Soldner himself. Or at least, what remained of him, smoking and crumbling to ash at Jess's feet, and she couldn't deny the sudden rush of ecstasy roaring through her.

  Ecstasy spiked with dread.

  No wonder Lords Fal and Veitsi, and Josie as well, were all staring at her with such horror.

  There was no rope, and time was limited. Jess could sense that as an eerie green light filled the macabre chamber, a hideous laughter she could taste screeching through the ether just beyond the range of hearing, twinging through her soul. The agonized whimpers of the flayed girls still trapped within the pentagram became shrieks once more.

  Jess gazed at Lords Fal and Veitsi, a desperate mad hope between their placating gazes. Jess was in dire need of information, but there was no time. And the agent, at least, was far too deadly a foe to leave in her friend's care unguarded.

  Jess smiled. “I shall grant you mercy of a sort.” She smiled at their sighs of utter relief, even as she exchanged a vicious grin with her shieldbrother, both abruptly slamming the men upon their chests, twisting their arms about and yanking back with abrupt jerks, savage and brutal.

  Veitsi shook with a hideous scream as his body bucked and writhed, Jess having expertly shattered wrist, elbow, and disjointed shoulder with a ruthless brutality that would have done Eloquin proud on his grimmest day. Veitsi would never wield a sword again, without the care of the best healers in the land.

  And still she did not hesitate to break his other arm, despite the man's begging pleas.

  “Do you think I don't know the ways and wiles of agents?” Jess hissed. “I've trained with your kind. I know damn well
the ways you strike at foes unsuspecting.” A quick search of the shaking, broken man revealed vials and knives aplenty, ruthlessly torn from his unresisting form. With a savage final kick, she propelled him, stumbling, towards the speechless diOnnis.

  “Extract what information you need, Your Grace. Make sure you know all the machinations he has set in motion against your House. If he hesitates for an instant, if you sense the slightest deception, you have but to twist one of his shattered arms, and I swear to you, he shall be as meek as a lamb.”

  Duke diOnni's smile was an odd mixture of gratitude, horror, and frank admiration. “Why Lady Jess, you do have a flair for coming to the rescue, just when needed. I shall not forget your services to my House, Jess, this I swear with all my heart.” He then turned to the groaning agent, broken and maimed, quaking before him. The duke's cold smile was that of a master negotiator determined to wrangle every last concession from the man he faced.

  “Ah, my dear Lord Veitsi. It has been an interesting night full of twists and reversals of fortune for both of us, has it not? Come, my lord. I do believe we have a number of things to discuss, and time is not on our side.”

  Jess spared him one last urgent glance. “Raphael. Record every damn word he says. And for the love of Heaven, don't wipe off those sigils upon your flesh! They are the only things keeping you alive. For these fools have brought you into the very outskirts of Shadow to summon creatures best left in Hell, and when we return, all memory of this day will be wiped from your mind, as if it had never been.”

  Raphael's grin was shaky but his eyes still shown with unspeakable gratitude. “Dearest Jessica, always saving those I love. Fear not, Father and I always keep tradebook and mage pen on hand when hammering out negotiations, even with those we had once thought friends.”

  A final shriek from Lord Fal before he collapsed in unconsciousness, a sheepish smile from her brother-in-arms, and how his smile touched her heart. “Sorry, sister. I fear the Delver's strength has changed things for us, since Eloquin's grimmest lessons.”