Song of Shadow

by Natalya Capello

  The sounds of a battle drifted from ahead of them. Vandermere’s heart sped up. Silhouettes moved through the trees ahead. Vandermere slowed his pace and motioned for Wes to stop. He slipped behind a tree and peeked out around the side.

  Four Order priests in their colored robes trudged towards them. The green robed Earth priest carried another of his path in his arms. Their faces held expressions of loss. Had the battle already been fought?

  No, there were still sounds of clanging metal and shouts in the directions of the tower. Why were these priests leaving?

  One of the red robed priests, a sidhe, jerked his head in their direction. His eyes narrowed as he searched.

  Vandermere pulled his head back behind the tree and rested his hand on the pommel of one of the swords he’d gotten from the ship to replace the one he’d lost in the tunnels under the church.

  “Halt,” the sidhe priest called in an imperious voice. “Someone is here. Spread out.”

  Vandermere glanced in Wes’s direction and nodded as the sounds of footsteps on fallen branches drew closer. Just a few more moments and the priests would be upon them. Vandermere sucked in a quiet breath and waited, counting silently.

  The priests were mere feet away. They would see him any minute now.

  He drew his sword and twisted around the tree, slashing at the priests. His blade hit the arm of the green robed priest, slicing into the fabric of his sleeve, but rebounded with a spark and the sound of metal on stone. Vandermere muttered a curse under his breath. The damn earth priest had turned his skin to rock.

  The priest’s right arm shot out in a backhand that caught Vandermere in the chest. He stumbled backwards as his breath whooshed out of him. His hand gripped his sword to keep from losing it and he steadied himself. His whole chest throbbed. The brute Earth priest had barely made an effort with that. Vandermere needed to be careful; one solid hit would break bones.

  The boom of a pistol echoed through the trees followed by a male cry. Wes stood several feet away with his smoking pistol tilted in the air. One of the Fire priests knelt, holding his chest. He turned with wide eyes.

  “Drop your weapon and surrender,” he barked at Wes.

  Wes lowered his gun.

  “No!” Vandermere shouted, putting the force of command in it. “Don’t surrender. We need to get to Lorelei!”

  Wes shook his head as if coming out of a stupor. His eyes narrowed and he snarled at the Fire priest, then reloaded his pistol.

  The priest glanced at Vandermere with a mixture of incredulousness and annoyance. “By the Goddess, why are there so many of you high ranking nobles here! What has made you turn to heresy?”

  “Perhaps you should ask your Order why it’s considered heresy,” Vandermere shot back.

  The Earth priest swung a fist at him, ending the conversation. Vandermere ducked to the side and put a tree between him and the priest.

  Three priests were accounted for. What about the others?

  He scanned the trees.

  There. Where the trees split apart, the blue robed priest knelt by the unconscious Earth priest. That made sense. With barely any water except for perhaps what the priest carried on him, there was little use for the Water priest except for healing. That did mean, though, the priest could get his fallen companions up.

  It might be best to take this one out first, then worry about the others. The idea of striking down an unarmed opponent left a sour taste in his mouth. He wouldn’t kill this person.

  Vandermere dashed through the trees at the Water priest. He turned, eyes going wide. Vandermere raised his sword and smashed the pommel into his face. The priest crumpled to the ground.

  “How dishonorable! What kind of sidhe are you?” the Fire priest exclaimed.

  “He’s still alive,” Vandermere shot back. “That can remain the case for all of you if you retreat to your ships with your wounded. Let us pass to the tower unimpeded.”

  The Fire priest’s gaze shifted from Vandermere to the fallen priest beside him, then to the direction of the tower where the sounds of combat drifted.

  “We can take them,” the Earth priest rumbled. “At least we will have two.”

  “No, you can’t,” Wes growled.

  His skin shifted and rippled as he began to grow three times his size. The seams of his clothing split when it could no longer fit on his body and fell to the ground in tatters. Within seconds, a giant black bear stood on his hind legs and let out a roar.

  Both the Earth priest and the Fire priest took steps back.

  “We have no qualms with you personally,” Vandermere said. “Just with your superiors.”

  The Fire priest pressed his lips together as he stared up at the bear. A vein throbbed in his temple in a bluish hue.

  “Stand down,” he called to the Earth priest. “Let them pass. Beth and her retinue can deal with these two. I doubt they will be much trouble for her.”

  With that, he knelt by the Fire priest who was still holding his chest, trying to staunch the bleeding. The Earth priest cast an icy look at Vandermere and pointed to the unconscious priests beside him. Vandermere stepped back away from them and nodded to Wes. As the Earth priest rose and stomped to his companions, Vandermere and Wes took off in sprints towards the tower.

  Vandermere hoped they weren’t too late.

  The sight of the clearing made him stop short. Priests of all four orders lay strewn across the grounds in front of the gate. Beyond the gate, Lorelei fought a pale skinned female with metal on her face.

  An ill feeling filled Vandermere’s chest. Something was off about the female. She didn’t quite look faerie and the dark metal on her face—was that iron? A chill raced up his spine as the female brought her blade, also iron, down upon Lorelei.

  In a flash of green, Lorelei swung Murgleis in an upward motion and parried the blade. He’d never seen Lorelei move so fluidly. It was as if she and the blade were one. And why wasn’t she singing?

  The female spun and brought her sword to Lorelei in backward slash. Lorelei darted to the side and met the blade with Murgleis again. This time, the iron sword of the female was ripped from her hand and flew into the air. In a blur of motion and light, Lorelei brought Murgleis down and across the female’s neck, decapitating her. The female’s body dropped to the ground.

  Vandermere found his voice. “Lorelei!”

  She turned his direction, her eyes glowing with an eerie green light. A smirk lighted on her lips as she tilted her head at him.

  That wasn’t Lorelei.

  “Quickly,” the thing in Lorelei said in her voice. “You should find a way to save her. She doesn’t have much time and my way wouldn’t benefit either of us.”

  With those words, she closed her eyes and collapsed to the ground.

  Vandermere rushed through the gate and to Lorelei. All the time, fear built up within him. She lay on her side with one arm flung out in front of her. Murgleis was still clutched in her fist. Vandermere knelt and rolled her onto her back. Coldness crept through him as the sight of her blood-soaked abdomen.

  Please let this be from a different sword and not the iron sword that female thing had been wielding, he prayed.

  He pulled aside the cloth of her shirt and sucked in a gasp. Her skin had already started to gray around the wound. Dark lines extended from the wound in a spider web pattern across her stomach.

  He turned his head back to Wes. “Check the tower and see if there is anything to fight iron poisoning.” As an afterthought, he added, “Find me Vaana, damnit.”

  He returned his attention to Lorelei as Wes began to shift back to his phooka form. Vandermere ripped her blouse apart to get better access to her wound. The least he could do is try and staunch the flow of blood. By the amount soaked in her clothes and the pallor of her skin, she’d been bleeding out for some time. Why had she let it get this bad?

  She hadn’t been in control of herself.

  A chill filled him as his gaze fell upon Murgleis, still in her unconscious
grip. Had the Sluagh taken her over and led to the wound?

  He swore under his breath. “I’m sorry. I should have pushed you more to abandon that damn sword.”

  “On the contrary,” a feminine voice said behind him. “If you had, the girl would already be dead.”

  Vandermere turned, still kneeling by Lorelei. A copper-skinned female stood at the gates. She wasn’t faerie. None of the races had four arms. The bottom two she held behind her back as the top two crossed over her chest. She would have towered over him even if he’d been standing. He hair seemed to be made of a pale metal though it flowed with an unnatural movement, like a wind that wasn’t there. In the center of her forehead, a viridian gem glowed.

  She tilted her head as she looked a Lorelei. “As much time as my dear Murgleis has given her, her life force is all but gone.”

  Vandermere narrowed his eyes at her. “Who are you?”

  “The answer to your prayer.” She gave him a smile that glinted in the sun. “You called and I heard. And since my Murgleis was here, I decided to come and see what is so special about this girl. She’s not very impressive looking.”

  “She’s dying,” Vandermere said through gritted teeth. “And I didn’t pray to you.”

  “You didn’t pray to anyone in particular. You should be careful of that.” Her voice softened. “All can hear such prayers. You never know who will answer.”

  “Like you?”

  “Indeed.”

  “What is your name?”

  She smiled. “You may call me Abraxes.”

  A chill ran through Vandermere’s spine. Lorelei had read through some of the books she found on the Sluagh. He thought he remembered her mentioning a connection between Murgleis and a Sluagh named Abraxes.

  He straightened his shoulders. “And what can you do to help her?”

  “The iron will kill her and her soul will be lost.” Abraxes took two steps closer. “However, I have claim due to the bargains she made with my Murgleis. All I have to do is kill her and take her soul. I can craft her into something new. One of my children.”

  “No!” Vandermere rose to his feet and drew his sword. He would be damned is he let a Sluagh turn Lorelei into one of them.

  Abraxes crossed all four of her arms in front of her chest. “Then she dies and you lose her forever.”

  “Not yet,” Amara’s voice drifted on the wind.

  From the gloom of the doorway, Amara materialized and stepped outside. She leaned against the wall of the tower next to the doorway. Wes stood a few feet away with his mouth agape.

  Abraxes shot Amara a glare and took another step forward.

  “Back off, Abraxes,” Amara said. “She is mine.”

  Abraxes stopped and her face stretched into an odd smile. “This is a surprise. You’ve been gone for so long, we thought you lost.”

  Vandermere blinked. Did this mean Amara was indeed a Sluagh? Even if she was, he trusted her more at this point than the others. With a shake of his head, Wes stepped back into the tower. He at least was smart enough not to get in between two Sluagh.

  “I was found. So, you can spread new rumors of my return.” Amara marched over to Lorelei and knelt beside her. “As for the girl, I claim her.”

  “I already have claim,” Abraxes said. “My Murgleis has ensured that. We can fight for her soul.”

  “No.” Vandermere stood, allowing more room for Amara, and faced Abraxes. “Lorelei will still be dying as you two battle it out. What would it take to release your claim?”

  Behind him, Amara whispered over Lorelei. He wanted to turn to make sure she was being healed, but he wouldn’t turn his back on Abraxes.

  “Amara, don’t you dare. We have not come to an agreement.” Abraxes tilted her head as she studied Vandermere. “You are an Essus, yes? One of the prophets?”

  “I am.”

  “Then give me a vision. And nothing small…Tell me something major…something secret.”

  Vandermere gritted his teeth as she grinned at him. Such a vision would surely bring the Shadow upon him. Did she know that? It seemed as if she was egging him on just for that purpose.

  He stared down at Lorelei. She was deathly pale against the green grass. Amara’s hands hovered over the wound with a slight glow.

  “I can hold off more bleeding, but not for long,” she said softly. “You need to make a decision on this.”

  Vandermere nodded to her as much as to himself. Lorelei was worth it. For her, he could endure the madness that came.

  He turned back to Abraxes. “Very well. I agree. But you will allow Amara to heal Lorelei now.”

  “Done.” She nodded and spread her arms out. “Do you need anything? A dark room, soft cushions, incense, perhaps?”

  “No.” Vandermere strode forward and sat in the front of her with his legs crossed under him. “This place will work and the sooner this is finished, the better.”

  He rested his hands on his knees and closed his eyes, reaching for that part inside himself that was so tantalizing. The ability to know.

  Everything faded away except for that part.

  Vandermere floats bodiless in darkness as the world shifts around him. His heart pounds as he feels the Shadow encroaching on his mind. He needs to hold it off for a short time. Everything spins and there is a flash of light.

  The silhouette of a woman stands before a portal of brilliant pulsing light, arms raised towards it as she is consumed from the inside by boiling pitch.

  Flash.

  A brightly burning amethyst star shoots downward from the night sky, briefly illuminating a fleet of warships on the ocean before crashing into the water.

  Flash.

  A man awakens from a nightmare and screams silently as he is consumed by flickering shadows. In a burst of light, the shadows are driven away, but the man is now only a translucent image floating above his gnawed remains.

  Flash.

  From the roiling sea, a burst of steam shoots forth a massive iron tower that twists itself into the night sky, rending it like a spear would pierce flesh.

  Flash.

  A woman uncovers a dusty box in a long-forgotten tomb. As she slides open the stone lid of the box, the look of wonder is replaced with agony as thin iron tendrils pierce her cheeks and forehead and begin wriggling through her veins. She rips the iron from her face and then slides the box lid shut.

  Flash.

  Howls of agony fill the air as a monstrously large, thorn vine winds its way up and around the iron tower, drinking the blood that pours from the wounded sky.

  Flash.

  A librarian almost finishes cataloging his books before turning to a gold leafed tome with the crescent moon on it. As he lays his hands upon the book, seven eyes open within the crescent and, enraptured, the man does not notice as his library burns down around him. In the last moment, he blinks and the eyes on the book are replaced with his own.

  Flash.

  The thorny vines reach their apex and bloom into a blood-colored rose from the petals of which emerge a monstrous snake that begins to devour the rose and wind its way back down the iron tower.

  Flash.

  A single ship on the ocean burns with green Sluagh-fire as a battle rages on-board. The ship sails into the horizon before it explodes in a flash of greenish light.

  Flash.

  The cries of agony are replaced with shouts of triumph as the serpent makes its descent.

  Flash.

  A golem made of mithril is beaten in an iron forge. Its cries sound almost faerie-like. In a final attempt to free itself, one hand reaches outward and strangles its forger. It then claws its broken form out of the forge and into the night.

  Flash.

  The lights in the top of the iron tower come to life, burning a fierce unwholesome red.

  Flash.

  A lone figure writes furiously in a book, then closes it and tosses it into the standing portal of brilliant pulsing light.

  33

  Light. It blared just behind
Lorelei’s closed eyelids, dragging her from the depths of unconsciousness. Her eyes fluttered open. A blurry shape formed in the light. After several blinks, her vision cleared and she found Amara leaning over her. The sky was bright that Lorelei had to squint to look at her.

  Amara’s face had a wan look to it with shadows under her eyes. Relief filled her smile as she gazed down at Lorelei.

  Memories of what had happened flooded Lorelei’s mind. She tried to sit up and winced at the sharp pain in her stomach. She lay back with a groan.

  “No sudden movements,” Amara said. “It took much Aether to heal the wound, and it will still take you time to recover.”

  “Vaana?” Lorelei croaked.

  Amara shook her head. “You have more pressing things. Vandermere has made a deal for your life.”

  “You forced him to make a deal?”

  “Not me.” Amara nodded to Murgleis on the ground several feet away. “There are consequences to wielding him, as you know.”

  She gazed towards the gate and Lorelei followed that direction. A four-armed female stood over Vandermere as he sat with his head bowed.

  “Who is that? And what has he done?”

  Murgleis answered the first question. My creator. Abraxes.

  Lorelei sucked in a short breath. She’d read a bit about Abraxes from the books she’d confiscated from Zaos’s manse. Abraxes was the great Forger who took souls and created new Sluagh that filled the Demon City. Long ago, when Threshold was young, she forged Murgleis to claim more souls for her.

  Why is she here? She sent the thought to Murgleis with demanding feeling. He needed to answer her.

  She has claim on you through me. My…assistance comes at a price. Every time you called upon me, there has been a price. Saving you from iron allowed me to claim your soul…for her.

  Lorelei gritted her teeth. And you neglected to tell me until now?