by Jesse Teller
“The Stain has a new master.” Cosmo laughed and leapt up to crouch on the back of the chair. “It’s not good. It’s not good.” He screamed and slapped his face. “It’s just a theory. It’s just a theory.” He growled and stared at the ground. “No, it’s true. It has to be true. It’s him. It’s the dark one. The Terror, the Mind.”
At the word ‘Mind’ Rayph felt his blood go cold. He looked at the pillars set around the great pillar in the middle, and a finger of fear scratched up his spine. He went to Cosmo and grabbed his friend by the sides of the face.
“You have to tell me, Cosmo. I’ll believe you.”
“You’re gonna laugh. Everyone laughs. You know just ’cause I lost my mind doesn’t mean I’m mindless.” He wept, and then chewed his lip. Rayph could see the man had been doing this for a while.
“I’m not going to laugh, Cosmo. I know you’re not mindless. You have a powerful mind, an unrivaled mind. Just tell me what you know.”
“Think I know,” Cosmo said with a laugh. “I’ll tell you what I think I know.”
“Yes, Cosmo, please. Help me understand.”
“Do you remember when I went to your house?” Cosmo asked. Rayph nearly wept.
“I never should have asked you to do that. I’m so—”
“No, don’t be. I’m useless without that trip. ’Cause see, I’m with them. I’m with the entire Stain.”
Rayph nodded and squeezed his friend’s shoulder.
Decades ago, Cosmo had written a spell. A spell the likes of which only he had the mind to master. A spell meant to turn him into a god. It was an omniscient spell, crafted to make him able to read everyone’s mind. Cosmo had spent years working on it. It was his life’s work. It was to be his greatest creation, though many had warned him against it.
Baron had come to him and begged him to stop. The ancient Trimerian Knight had told Cosmo the effects of the spell would be disastrous if he continued, and Cosmo had sworn off. But his obsession grew with his inaction, and he went back to his masterpiece.
And it worked. Cosmo had crafted a spell that made him capable of reading the minds of all he encountered.
Rayph asked him to spend time in Mending Keep. Let him read the minds of the criminals there and aid Rayph in tracking down the most dangerous of their acquaintances. Rayph left his friend alone in Mending Keep and went on to other things. Six months Cosmo had been there when Rayph came back. When he found his friend, madness had Cosmo tight within its grip. The darkest minds the world knew had seeped into his brain, infecting it with lunacy and ripping Cosmo forever away to the depths of insanity. The most depraved acts ever committed played themselves out over and again in his mind. And Cosmo could still see it all.
The tales of the prisoners never ended. Still to this day, Cosmo could see and hear every vile thing they did. Every crime, every abomination, every horror played out in Cosmo’s mind, and he was unable to stop any of it.
“Do you see? Don’t you understand? Black Cowl has lost control of his monsters,” Cosmo said. “They serve a new master, a more horrible master than ever before.”
Rayph ducked under the cords and stopped before the closest pillar. It had been stripped of bark in one place and a name had been scrawled there with ragged script.
Radamuss. It took Rayph but a moment to place the name and when he did, he stepped back in horror.
“It can’t be true. That man is dead. Cosmo, he is dead. No way he still lives. We killed him ourselves. We hunted him down last year. Smear shoved a fist dagger into his heart!”
When Rayph raised his voice, Cosmo cowered in terror and Rayph’s heart broke. Cosmo started weeping and Rayph went to him. He hugged his friend close and whispered.
“I’m sorry. Fear has overtaken me. Radamuss should be dead. Are you sure? Are you sure the Rat still lives?” Rayph said.
Cosmo could say nothing. He could only nod.
Rayph went back to the pillars. Rhonda Dim, Artan, Shiv, and Mayakill.
When Rayph’s eye fell on the pillar that housed the name Blade Silvertooth, he nearly cried out in fear.
“They are all here. How is it that the entire syndicate is here? This is impossible. I killed Blade myself.”
“Chaos is alive. He raised them all. He brought them back from the dead. He can do it. He is the only one who ever could.”
“Brody Bedlam died in Mending Keep. He died before the breakout. He was never a member of the Stain,” Rayph said. If he made a rational enough argument, the horror of the truth of it would go away. Brody was dead. Had to be.
“The master of Chaos brought him back.” Cosmo smacked his hat away and gripped his hair. His knuckles curled into fists and he tugged. Rayph stepped closer and grabbed Cosmo’s wrists gently but firmly.
This was the man. Brody had a heart so dark that his mind had been the one to shred what was left of Cosmo. This one man had been enough to drive Cosmo into insanity. Rayph had executed the villain after that. When Cosmo fell, so had Brody.
Rayph needed to change the subject, but he needed a little more. He cast a calming spell on Cosmo and lifted the madman’s chin. Rayph held a tight grip on his fear as he stared Cosmo in the eyes. This level of madness always scared Rayph.
“I need you to stay with me a little longer. The cords, where do they lead? They stretch from the pillar to the walls. Even up into the balcony. What do these carvings mean? What level of darkness are we dealing with here?”
Cosmo’s eyes flitted away then returned. They looked off and away until they came back. “The rest. The rest of the Stain. The ones you haven’t hunted down yet. Those cords go to them. I have written down the crimes they have committed and the ones they have been ordered to do yet undone. They control it all, don’t you see? The Chaos Syndicate is the Stain. They have it now tight in their grasp. The syndicate is all of it. They are everything.”
Rayph knew what he needed to do; he knew what had to come next. “Where are they? Where can we find them?” Rayph braced himself for the worst, for the absolute worst response he could get. The hub of darkness in the nation, that was where Brody would have gone. Rayph had time to hope he was wrong before Cosmo whimpered and said, “Dragonsbane. They are all in Dragonsbane.” He stuffed his tattered hat back on his head and whimpered again.
“Of course they are.” Rayph felt like whimpering as well. “Cosmo, I’m going to send someone to clean you up. I can’t let you live like this.”
“Okay, Rayph, send me someone good, please. Just please, someone nice.” He was begging now. Rayph nodded and smiled. He hugged his dear friend and kissed his filthy hair.
“Sure, Cosmo. I’ll send you someone nice. I’ll find the perfect one. A real golden soul.”
Cosmo nodded and Rayph lowered him into the chair. Cosmo curled his legs and hugged them to his chest. He lay over until his tiny body fit into the belly of the chair and fell instantly to sleep.
“Watch him, Buddy,” Rayph said to the hound. It smacked its jaws and took up its spot next to the madman.
The Trapper
The Forest of the First Tree.
Rayph had not been to this place in thousands of years. When he dropped from the sky, he landed in a clearing on the edge of a river and closed his eyes. Two years he had spent in this place, 10,000 years ago, fighting what had become one of his best friends. This was where he lost his quest for leadership of the Ivory Arm and picked up his quest for Fannalis’s safety. Rayph knew the atmosphere here, and knew this was not a place he belonged.
He sat at the side of the river on a rock, his legs crossed as he fought to bring peace to his soul. Within moments he felt a presence watching him and he opened his eyes.
“I’m not here to fight,” Rayph said. “I’m looking for a man and have no other place to look.”
“Then maybe you belong here this time. Maybe not.” The voice was strong, primal and bestial, the voice of a god, and Rayph knew that voice. He fought to quiet the pounding of his heart but knew it a futile effort.
“Maybe you are just trespassing.”
“When I come here, I am always trespassing,” Rayph said.
“You meddled in an affair that was not for your order. You came here to right what you perceived as a wrong. And you took what didn’t belong to you. I see you have brought it back. Are you going to leave it here when you go?”
Rayph pulled Fannalis from his sheath and laid it on the rock before him. “If you long to stay here in this place you called home for so long, then show me a sign,” Rayph said. The dagger stayed gleaming in the green tinted light of the forest. Rayph picked it up and slid it back into his pocket. “I’m sorry, but he would rather stay with me.” Rayph looked at the tree line across the river to a bold face, oiled and fierce, with deep etched lines of concentration and wild eyes.
“What man seek you?” Bolo asked. Rayph looked at his hands, then to Bolo again.
“I am searching for your brother, mighty shaman. I am searching for Fanhon,” Rayph said.
The shaman leapt into the water and swam the distance. He walked from the river, his furs dripping, his club gleaming. He stopped before Rayph. With blinding speed, he shoved Rayph with both palms and barked loudly. Rayph flew from the stone to land on the ground and stayed on the forest floor. He looked up in fear as the shaman stepped to the rock Rayph had stood upon and stared down with flaring eyes.
“You come to this place—unwanted and uninvited—to steal away my brother, who has just now come home? This I will not allow.” He pulled his club from his waist and pointed it at Rayph. “We do battle. My forest needs its heroes. You cannot have him!”
Bolo leapt from the stone to straddle Rayph’s head. He grabbed him by the hair and pulled back the club with the other hand. He held it back until something fluttered just within Rayph’s eye line and settled on his forehead. He felt the tiny talons of the bird light on his scalp before, with a chirp, it spread its wings and a plume sprouted from its head. Rayph looked up at his aggressor and the savage paused. He stepped back and stared at Rayph. Bolo loosed a light chirp and the bird’s head bobbed. It spread its wings wide, let out a small cry before lifting into the air and vanishing in the trees.
Bolo pulled a cord from nowhere, binding Rayph’s neck with it. He jerked Rayph hard and the wizard stood.
“Keep up or get dragged behind.” Bolo turned into the woods and broke into a sprint. Rayph struggled after him, but his robe wrapped around his ankles and he dropped to the ground. Bolo did not stop or slow. He kept at his pace, even running harder. Rayph spat out a word, and his robe ripped away to shreds that vanished on the air. He spoke another word and lifted into the air, and soon was soaring behind Bolo as the shaman ran faster and faster.
There seemed no end to Bolo’s speed. He jumped rocks and tree limbs. He soared over fallen logs and leapt small streams in a dizzying burst of acrobatics that humbled Rayph and fascinated him. Bolo ran straight up the trunk of a tree and, when he hit the branches above, leapt across to the next tree. He ran the treetops like a squirrel, and soon came to one butted right up against a sheer cliff of silver ore. He did not stop, but jumped the span and flew, legs and arms out to grab ahold of the cliff face and cling to it. He scrambled up with little effort until he reached the top of the cliff and stopped.
Rayph dropped down beside him. A great silver ore slope rose like a ramp out over the forest. It was four hundred feet up and a hundred feet across, vines and other wildlife growing and thriving across its feature. Rayph wondered at the sheer worth of the ore he stood on. How far down into the ground did this vein go? How much would a civilized man pay to own this spot of land?
At the very pinnacle of the ramp stood a massive oak tree, its limbs spreading all the way across the ramp. Its vines draped from the limbs of its span like curtains, and Rayph stared in awe at the sight before him, wishing for just a breath this had been his home from the start.
Bolo watched Rayph’s thoughts like tracks through the ground before he shoved Rayph lightly and pulled his binding out from around Rayph’s neck.
“He is up there. Has been ever since he came home—which was not long ago. If you need to talk to him, you may find him unwilling. If you harm my brother, I will rip your soul out of your body and feed it to the Forest.” Bolo barked one more burst of savagery before he leapt off the side of the ramp and disappeared into the brush.
Rayph took a deep breath before he began to climb. Insects skittered and scratched across the stone, diving beneath and climbing atop the vines that stretched like veins across the ore. Rayph walked with purpose and did not stop until he stood before the great tree. He called out to the tree and birds leapt into the air to screech and fall away.
“Fanhon, it is I, Rayph Ivoryfist. I was hoping we might sit and talk for a while before I must rush away. I’m afraid I come in need. Will you talk with me?”
From the boughs of the tree, something burst through the leaves and branches to fly through the air in an arc before falling thirty feet behind Rayph. He turned to see the stone-headed spear slice through a vine and embed itself into the ore beneath it, the shaft of the spear vibrating. The severed vine leapt and jumped as it shot to the left. It slithered and slipped like a snake until it flew off the ramp, and Rayph heard a great limb snap.
He cursed as a vine wrapped itself around his ankle and he hit the ground. He fought for purchase as the vine ripped him away, catching hold of the vines beneath him only to find them snapping and jumping out of his grip. He was yanked across the ramp until with a scream he flew off and dropped a hundred feet to the trees below. Rayph slammed into tree limbs as he plummeted until the vine that gripped him snapped taut and he looked down.
Below him, a wide hole had been dug. From its sides, great tree trunks were buried along its edge like teeth to a giant maw. They gaped open and Rayph fought for control of his fear before the vine unwrapped itself from his foot, and he dropped into the pit. He landed in a deep puddle of wet mud and the jaws of the trap snapped shut. Rayph fought to cast, but something pulled the magic away. In a moment he identified the tree trunks above him as Devouring trees. He cursed, knowing his magic would not save him. No caster could wield his magic when near a Devouring tree.
Rayph slapped the mud around him and cursed.
“Fanhon, I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ll give you what I owe you as soon as we get to Ironfall. I always pay my debts. You know this.”
Fanhon’s head appeared above with a playful smile on his face. “Three hundred years you owe me for that bow. What makes me think you’re going to pay me now?”
Rayph looked into the elondri’s smiling face and realized how much he missed his friend. “I need a trapper,” Rayph said.
Fanhon scowled and nodded. “I’m listening.”
Victor Dreadnaught
Rayph walked the streets of Ironfall, his hand on Fannalis’s hilt, his heart heavy. Roth had sent for him, and Rayph was afraid the boy had already puzzled out the method of freeing the mage trapped within the dagger. He walked slowly, realizing he was not ready to give Fannalis up.
The dagger throbbed.
“I am sorry, old friend, I will not get in the way. If this is the night of your freedom, I will give you up. But I will have to find a way to say goodbye to you. It has been so long.”
The dagger throbbed again, and Rayph felt excitement and sadness emanating from the weapon. He decided not to think about it.
Rayph moved to the section of town Roth had set up in and found the building. Within a light shone, brighter than any set of torches or lamps could have afforded. He knocked on the door and it opened for him.
The changes to the room were startling. This place was cleaner than any building in Ironfall. He remembered the sty it had been and shook his head.
“Making yourself comfortable, I see.” Rayph did not understand the bitterness in his voice, but he knew the boy had caught it.
Roth looked at him sideways before nodding. “No more than necessary.”
“Good,” Rayph
said, though he did not know if he meant it. “Is tonight the night?”
Roth looked at him quite confused before he smiled and shook his head. “By the gods, no. We have much to do before we are ready to attempt the freeing. No, tonight I need your help with Betamus.”
“Betamus? Fannalis’s twin brother?”
“The same. I have found him.”
Rayph laughed. “It took me two thousand years to locate Betamus. You are more than you seem, young man.” Rayph looked at the boy, certain he had to be no more than fifteen, and grinned. “How did you find him?”
Roth looked at his feet and Rayph knew the boy modest.
“I am a weapons master. Every one of the Collective has a mastery we study and teach. Ithyryyn is a charmer, Gale a writer, Thrak a research expert, Quill a mapmaker. I am a weapons man. I have studied enough about magic weapons to be able to tell something about any enchanted weapon set in my hands.”
“You mentioned five masteries. There are six of you.”
“My brother Tate has yet to declare his mastery. As far as I know, he is still searching for his niche.”
There was a strain to the boy’s voice Rayph did not like.
“Either way, I have written a spell, with Gale’s help of course, that can locate any magical weapon I can name.”
Rayph took a step back. “Such a spell would require,” Rayph tried to conceive the intricacies of writing such a spell, and he could not imagine how difficult it would be. “That spell would be nearly impossible to write. How could that be done?”
The boy smiled, his entire face lit up, and Rayph knew this boy loved to talk about magic. “Well, the location would be impossible unless you possessed a wizard in your coven that specialized in location. But we have Quill, and she can find anyone. We harnessed her knowledge of maps and detection, and we were on our way.
“Gale took what Quill gave us and blended it with my expertise on weapon craft and weapon history. He walked me through the process of writing such a spell and left me to it. I have been working on the details off and on for about four years, but I finally mastered it about a week ago. So then I came to find you.”