Shadowless

by Randall McNally

  The next morning, Valan lay looking up at the rafters. He had not slept a wink; fear and anxiety had made sure of that. Shadow was curled at his feet, her fur soft against his skin. She pricked up her ears. Birds were nesting in the thatched roof of the house and Valan and Shadow listened to their chicks crying for food as the parents returned to the nest.

  Reaching under his mattress for the short sword that Amrodan had given to him, Valan looked at the blade, noting how the blue metal glistened in the morning sunlight. He had never seen a darconium weapon before this one. Lighter than a normal sword, this one had gold worked into the handle while the pommel was inscribed with tiny runes. Perfectly counterweighted, its blade was unblemished and it hummed with power.

  Valan sat up and looked at his gauntlets discarded on the floor. He had used their hidden wrist blades to cut down hundreds of enemies. But they would be useless against a god.

  A small bird landed on his windowsill. It was pink and grey with distinctive black markings. Valan had never seen a bird like it; the only ones he ever saw in Tarantum were vultures. He had spotted the bird yesterday and had asked Kurt what it was. He had said it was a bullfinch. What a strange name for a bird, he thought.

  As he stared out of the window, Valan’s mind drifted back to the tunnels and the high-walled crater he had called home for so long. He had come a long way from the Drops.

  His concentration was broken by Shadow hitting the glass to get at the bird.

  ‘No, girl,’ he said, lifting her from the sill.

  Valan sheathed his sword and began doing light exercises, limbering up and stretching the tightness out of his muscles.

  He lit a candle and placed it in the middle of the room. Then he pulled on his mask. Bending on one knee he whispered: ‘I am the bringer of death, the instrument of destruction whom all enemies fear. I am the invisible blade that strikes unseen in the darkness. I am the shadowless damned.’

  There was a knock. Valan put out the candle and opened the door. Kurt stood in the doorway. He was dressed in light armour and carried a darconium twin-bladed battle-axe.

  ‘It’s time, Valan.’

  Valan picked up his weapons; bending down, he stroked Shadow. ‘I’ll see you later, girl. If I don’t make it back then be good for Santhom.’

  He closed the door.

  ‘You look like you’ve been up all night,’ Kurt said.

  ‘You, too.’

  ‘I spent half the night trying to convince Yana not to leave.’

  ‘I’m not sure I’d blame her. Did you know that this was the plan?’

  Kurt shook his head.

  The two men walked down the track, between pine and beech trees. They could now see the bay, encircled by high hills. Clear waters lapped the shingle beach, reflecting the dark clouds that were gathering overhead.

  ‘What was Yana’s decision?’ Valan asked.

  ‘She’s sleeping on it,’ Kurt said. ‘For all our sakes, I hope she stays. If Yana leaves then the other women are bound to follow.’

  As they got to the end of the path, Hallusâm and Lórkrond came into sight.

  ‘Looks like this is it then. No turning back. Can I ask you something, Kurt?’ Valan enquired. ‘Are you afraid?’

  Kurt puffed his cheeks out and exhaled deeply.

  ‘Me too,’ Valan said.

  Trisidulous stood with his arms folded, staring at the chair in front of him. A man had been tied to it, a sack covering his head and a gag preventing him from screaming. The light from the window illuminated the golden thread embroidered on the prisoner’s bright-blue robes.

  Trisidulous removed the sack and the gag. The high priest blinked in the light and wriggled his arms.

  ‘High Priest Baticäs, thank you for joining us,’ Trisidulous hissed.

  ‘What are you? What do you want from me?’ the high priest stuttered.

  ‘I want you to help me. You see, it appears that I’ve lost my shadow.’

  ‘You are damned; I am not helping you,’ High Priest Baticäs exclaimed.

  Trisidulous looked at a corner of the room. The floor shook as Utan emerged from the shadows. At over eight feet tall, he had to crouch to avoid the rafters. He came to stand behind Trisidulous. High Priest Baticäs’s face paled. Trisidulous approached him and spoke in a hushed voice.

  ‘When you woke two days ago and found that every man in your Shadow Watcher unit had had their heads pulled from their necks,’ he said, ‘this is who did it.’

  Cutting the rope that bound the high priest, Trisidulous walked around him.

  ‘What are you doing?’ the high priest demanded.

  Trisidulous took a metal cylinder sealed with wax from under his cloak. It was blue and green and just under a foot long. Intricate runes had been carved on its top and bottom, sea creatures on its sides. Gold and silver were worked into the surface to depict the fins and scales of the creatures, diamonds to represent their eyes. High Priest Baticäs’s eyes opened wide.

  ‘Where did you get that?’

  Trisidulous broke the seal and unscrewed the lid. A squeal could be heard as he took off the top. Inside was a scroll, yellow with age and damp. As Trisidulous carefully took out and unfurled the papyrus, the smell of the sea filled the room. The antiquated text could still be read, despite the condition of the parchment.

  He held it in front of the high priest’s face. ‘How do I use this to summon Kröm?’

  ‘What are you…?’

  His voice faded as Trisidulous took his punch-dagger and put it under his jaw.

  ‘Tell me how to summon him or I’ll cut your throat.’

  ‘You stand at the water’s edge and read it aloud.’

  Trisidulous pushed his dagger more forcefully against the high priest’s neck, until it punctured the skin. Utan bared his fangs.

  ‘Don’t take me for a fool,’ Trisidulous snarled. ‘I know that a blood sacrifice is needed.’

  ‘Do not hurt me. You have the scroll, so you do not need a sacrifice. Simply take a religious symbol, and dip it in fresh blood. Cast it into the sea while reading the scroll aloud.’

  ‘A religious symbol like this one?’ Trisidulous grabbed the metal pentagram that hung around the high priest’s neck.

  He took the scroll and made his way to the door.

  ‘And priest?’ Utan growled.

  ‘Rip his head off. I have a god to summon.’

  ‘I don’t think I can do this,’ Keltarä said, her words separated by gasps.

  ‘Calm down,’ Cymbatoriá said. ‘You are going to be fine.’

  Keltarä paced the length of the room, taking breaths.

  ‘But you don’t know that. None of us know that. We could all be killed. I shouldn’t be here. I have to go. While there is time.’

  Cymbatoriá grabbed Keltarä by the shoulders. ‘It is too late to back out now.’

  ‘I’m terrified, Cym,’ Keltarä said. ‘I’ve seen too much death: my mining crew, my gang. I don’t want to see anyone else get killed.’

  Cymbatoriá put her arm around Keltarä. ‘We are all afraid,’ she said. ‘There is not one of us who does not fear dying. But you will not have to fight. It’s like Amrodan said back in the Black Monastery, your only job is to stop Kröm getting away. Keep your distance; let Darkan and the warriors do the fighting. Then if Kröm tries to go back into the water, pull him out. That is all you have to do.’

  ‘Amrodan is not even here. And what happens if Kröm comes towards me?’

  ‘You do what you were told: run.’

  ‘What if he catches me?’

  ‘It is not going to come to that,’ Cymbatoriá said firmly. ‘Kröm will have bigger things to worry about than you, believe me.’

  Keltarä sat down, hugging her knees.

  ‘Where is the dragon? I thought it would be here by now.’ />
  ‘Arpherius told us last night that it will only make itself known once we summon Kröm,’ Cymbatoriá said. ‘So it is probably on its way, right now.’

  ‘You are sure it will be here to help us?’

  Cymbatoriá smiled warmly. ‘I have known Amrodan a long time; he cares too much about us than to let us fight Kröm without its help.’

  ‘I am glad you decided not to leave,’ Santhom said.

  ‘Someone has to look after Kurt. He was adamant that he was staying with the others,’ Yana replied.

  ‘Have you located Kröm?’ Santhom asked.

  ‘I have not yet tried.’

  ‘Amrodan said that in the dream sent to him by the pool the sun was at its highest whenever Kröm attacked. It is midday now, can you use your visions to find him?’

  ‘Give me a second.’ Yana closed her eyes and concentrated her thoughts on Kröm.

  Her subconscious flooded with colour and in her mind’s eye she flew over seas and lakes, mountains and deserts. Her view skimmed the ground, moving so fast that most of what she saw was a blur. The sensation made her feel queasy until she focused directly on where the vision was taking her.

  Yana opened her eyes to see a village. Mudbrick houses were set into ravines, sand and rocks littering the bare, cracked ground. Palm trees and cactuses dotted the landscape and tomatoes and peppers grew in well-tended gardens, which had small aqueducts supplying them with water. The people who inhabited the village had the same olive colour skin as Manarat.

  I must be in the Southern Realms, Yana thought.

  Concentrating on a well in what seemed to be the centre of the village, her view moved along a path. Down an adjacent hill people bathed in the waters of a river. Old men sat outside houses mashing seeds in wooden bowls, while women weaved rolls of yarn on looms and children played in the long grass.

  Yana could not hear or smell anything, only see – yet she sensed all was not right. And as she watched, the people began to stop what they were doing. Then the women held their hands to their mouths and appeared to shout, and seconds later the children came running to them. The villagers returned to their homes, locking doors and closing shutters. The streets emptied.

  A shadow crept over the village. Looking to the sky she saw a large black cloud settling over the land. Lightning struck buildings. Black rain fell upon the ground, burning the leaves and plants. Cattle smashed through the walls of paddocks and stampeded through the streets as the rain blistered their skin.

  Yana’s view moved to the well. It was there she witnessed what she had been sent to see.

  Emerging from the river was a man-sized figure in plate armour. Dark blue and encrusted with barnacles and limpets, the armour’s breastplate had metal scales and was contoured to fit the figure’s body. Webbed fins jutted out from the arm and leg greaves and the helmet was shaped like a sea serpent’s head, two blue eyes glowing through the visor. The figure was carrying a trident.

  Yana froze.

  The figure walked up the riverbank, staring in her direction.

  This is a vision, Yana thought; he cannot see me.

  The figure made his way into the village. Stopping at a small dwelling, he went to the door and pushed it. The latch splintered and the door swung open.

  He entered the house.

  Yana stopped concentrating and ended the vision, opening her eyes. She was back on the hill overlooking Gurthün Bay. Santhom was looking at her, concern on her face.

  ‘What did you see, Yana?’

  ‘He is doing it, right now. We should have summoned him before he got to her, Santhom.’

  ‘But that was not the plan,’ Santhom stated. ‘We have to give it half an hour then we summon him.’

  ‘I know what the plan was,’ Yana snapped. ‘That does not mean that I have to agree with it.’

  Santhom put her hands on her hips. Her eyebrows came down and a steely look formed in her eyes.

  ‘Now listen here, Yana. I want you remember what Kurt said last night. He and the others are going to be fighting Kröm no matter what. If we summon him early, he will be too powerful and could kill them all. By waiting until afterwards they will be facing him in a weakened state. The choice we have is simple; trade this girl’s life so that the others stand a fighting chance.’

  Yana balked. Santhom was usually so meek that her intensity had caught Yana off-guard. She was, of course, right.

  ‘Kurt or this girl, who you do not even know: who is it to be?’ Santhom asked.

  ‘I know,’ Yana submitted. ‘But it just does not feel right.’

  ‘That is because it is not right. The fact that we are doing this does not sit well with me either but, in the long term, we are going to be saving lives, maybe even our own.’

  Yana could feel her eyes welling up with tears. She took deep breaths and tried to calm herself down.

  ‘What did he look like?’ Santhom asked.

  ‘He was dressed in full plate armour. He didn’t seem tall enough to me. I thought the gods were five times bigger than a man? Kröm only seems about six foot.’

  ‘They’re only abnormally tall when in their true form. At other times they can change their shape to that of a normal-sized man,’ Santhom explained. ‘When we summon him against his will, he will be as big as a town house.’

  At noon, Arpherius and nine of the others walked down onto the shingle beach, stones and shells cracking under their feet. Dark clouds gathered over the bay and lightning flashed in the distance.

  Rain began to fall as they stopped twenty feet from the water’s edge.

  ‘There’s a storm coming,’ Valan said.

  ‘Sea god angry?’ Utan growled.

  ‘Not half as pissed off as he’s going to be in minute,’ Kurt replied.

  ‘Still no sign of the dragon then,’ Lórkond stated.

  ‘I told you that Darkan will only appear once Kröm has been summoned,’ Arpherius said.

  ‘Are you sure, before I start this? There’s no going back,’ Trisidulous warned.

  ‘Do it.’

  Everyone stood silently as Trisidulous took a worn copper bowl out of a bag. He produced a flask of blood and poured its contents into the bowl. From around his neck he removed the chain with the five-pointed star and dipped it into the liquid. Some held their breath as Trisidulous submerged the symbol in blood before withdrawing it, holding it in front of him.

  ‘Kröm, God of the Sea, I your humble servant summon you forth from your watery domain,’ he read. ‘Come from your netherworld beyond the stars and show us your true form. Answer our prayers and grant us favour by your very presence in this mortal realm.’

  He threw the bloody symbol into the sea.

  The panicked shrieks of sea birds could be heard as the sound of thunder rumbled from out in the bay, and the metallic ring of weapons being drawn. But nothing happened.

  Seconds turned to minutes.

  ‘How long do we give it?’ Trisidulous asked.

  ‘As long as it takes,’ Arpherius replied.

  ‘What sort of answer is that? What if it takes days? We have to stand on this damn beach the whole time?’

  ‘It will not take days. If he does not appear soon then I will walk into the water; that should get his attention.’

  ‘Stop.’

  The yell came from behind them.

  Pandimonia was galloping down onto the beach on horseback.

  ‘You told us she wasn’t allowed to take part,’ Valan said.

  Pandimonia rushed towards the group, pulling on the horse’s reins as she neared them. She was sweating and out of breath.

  ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ Arpherius said.

  ‘Stop what you’re doing,’ Pandimonia panted. ‘Darkan isn’t coming.’

  ‘What?’ Lórkond snapped.

  ‘What
do you mean?’ Arpherius said.

  Pandimonia jumped down from her horse.

  ‘The pool isn’t all it seems. It’s not just sending Amrodan visions, I think it’s controlling him.’

  ‘How could the pool be controlling him?’ Kurt asked.

  ‘I read Amrodan’s thoughts to find out why he didn’t want me here; inside his mind were dozens of female voices, all raised in anger. They were buried in his subconscious where he wouldn’t have heard them.’

  ‘Voices?’ Arpherius asked.

  ‘Amrodan doesn’t realise it, but I think the liquid in the pool is the blood of the goddesses who were slaughtered thousands of years ago. They’re trying to exact their revenge through him,’ Pandimonia stressed, addressing Arpherius. ‘If you slay Kröm then you will start a war the likes of which this world has never seen.’

  ‘Problem,’ Utan growled, pointing to the sea with his oversized meat cleaver.

  There was a rumble and an air bubble as big as a coach rose to the surface before bursting. As one, the group took a step back. Another bubble rose up, then another, then two more. A fountain of water erupted into the air. Kröm was rising from the deep.

  Pandimonia’s horse squealed and galloped away in fear as water cascaded from the god’s suit of armour as he rose up from the waves. The hulking figure of the god stood in the bay, trident in hand, looking around before resting his gaze on those on the beach.

  As he waded towards them, volumes of water were thrown into the air and the ground shook. With his glowing blue eyes focused on the Shadowless, the god made his way onto the shore.

  Everyone backed further away.

  ‘I implore you, Arpherius,’ Pandimonia said. ‘If you do this then you condemn us all.’

  Fear and panic rushed through Arpherius’s mind. He looked around and saw his dread mirrored on the faces looking back. The gravity of what was happening washed over him.

  ‘What will we do?’ Keltarä screamed.