The Shadow Age (The Age of Dawn Book 7)

by Everet Martins

  “I know!” she hissed, lips pressed into a hard line. “I know.”

  “Isa,” Nyset met his eyes, a glacial blue, “we need subtlety. Send your best to the palace, find the prince and give me a report on his wellbeing.”

  Isa bolted to his feet, weapons jingling on his hips. “Now, Mistress?”

  She nodded at him and flicked her fingers, “Yes, go. Issue the order, but do come back. We’ll wait.” Isa strode out of the room without another word, eyes set on the closed double doors.

  “Arch Wizard,” Thalia drawled, one finger tracing circles on the table. “How is Gaidal? It must be hard for a boy without his father.”

  Nyset’s stomach churned. “Yes… well, he’s fine, Thalia. He’s doing well, growing too fast.” She glanced at her lap, furrowed her brow, then looked up. “He may not have his father, but he has no shortage of excellent role models between Claw and Grimbald. His skill with the Dragon is advancing at an almost terrifying degree,” she said with a nervous laugh. What was that? Why do you care what she thinks?

  “Smart boy, he is,” Claw added, narrowing his eyes at Thalia. “He’ll surely surpass all of us one day in ability… to be trained at such a young age. He’ll be a marvel to behold once he reaches adulthood. He’ll be a great legacy to the Tower and won’t have any problem carrying on its torch.”

  “You speak as if the Arch Wizard is already dead, Master Claw” Thalia glanced at him, head tilted to show the long curve of her neck.

  “No, no. That’s not what I meant…” Claw gruffed, opening and closing his hands like he was working out some tightness. “He’s a strong lad, that’s all. Don’t twist my words.” He regarded Thalia with a leveled stare.

  Thalia’s eyes narrowed to murderous slits, posture going rigid, pupils widening as she looked him up and down in blatant challenge.

  “How is the Great Tree, Thalia?” Nyset asked, eager for a subject change.

  Thalia slowly turned her head back to Nyset, feathers on her headdress fluttering. A measured breath slipping through her lips. “Its scars heal, but scars they are. The Woodland Plunge is recovering, the rot falling away with the birth of new life. Our numbers are half of what they were before the Shadow War. If we are to go to war again…” she trailed off as Isa entered the room, giving a quick bow before he took his seat.

  “War is coming, Thalia. That is unavoidable, as unavoidable as the rising sun. We are here now to prepare,” Nyset said, rising up to stand, chest raised, eyes sweeping over her guests. “Let’s discuss what we do know of the Shadow Princess. She can only travel via a portal in short distances, according to our intelligence. That rules out her portaling directly to our shores. We should all send a prayer to the Dragon and the Phoenix for that. She can fly but seems awfully vulnerable without her minions. Isa, Senka, and Juzo fought her once before.” She nodded at them. “Juzo, why don’t you start by telling us what it was like to fight her?”

  Juzo dropped his legs from the table’s edge, arms coming down from behind his head to lean forward and grip the table. “Agony,” he growled. “Pure. Fucking. Agony. I didn’t do much in the way of fighting… she burned me, almost killed me. Had it not been for Senka… she saved my life, brought me a Tigerian corpse to feed upon.” Juzo gave Senka an appreciative nod. “I’ve felt a lot of pains in my life, all of them unique and with their own characteristics. But this pain was worse than all others. There aren’t words to describe it.” His eyes were glazed and distant.

  “But you bested her, didn’t you?” Nyset plucked an apple from an emerald green plate and started tossing it from hand to hand.

  “We did, Mistress,” Isa said. “I saw her blood. She bleeds violet, like Asebor had. After she fell, surely dead by all accounts, I went to Senka to help her with Juzo. When I returned, she was gone, no sign of her body. I’m well versed in the art of tracking, and I saw nothing to indicate she’d fled. No portal cuts, no prints… no blood. Vanished.” Isa shrugged.

  “She can fly, right?” Grimbald added.

  “Not something I would’ve missed,” Isa said with a dismissive wave. “Footprints would’ve been deep where she launched.”

  A long silence fell across the table. Grimbald slurped from his mug, jaw snapping as he chewed on his third, maybe fourth honey cake. Claw glared at him, then met Nyset’s eyes in a shared snicker.

  “I have a theory of how the Shadow Princess failed to produce a corpse for the three of you in Tigeria,” Nyset said, steepling her fingers. “There is a ritual of the Old Magic that allows one to place their spirit into an object, any object, for that matter. This object is known as a phylactery once the ritual is complete. There are benefits and detriments to this ritual… the primary benefit is that if you die, you’re resurrected at the location of your phylactery. The detriment and greatest risk is that, if your phylactery is destroyed, so are you.”

  Isa slowly nodded in understanding. “That would seem to make some sense.”

  “Is this ritual not long lost, being a relic of the Old Magic?” Thalia asked, fingers twiddling against the table.

  Nyset licked her teeth. “Maybe. But the Shadow is old. Perhaps she inherited the knowledge of her father and mother. We can’t be sure, of course. As I said, it’s just a theory.”

  “Theories need to be tested,” Senka said, staring off into another world on the table’s surface.

  “Exactly, Senka.” Nyset deeply nodded. “I have an idea about how to test it.”

  Claw scoffed. “You must be joking? I know what you’re thinking.” He produced a pipe carved from bone and a small pouch of tobacco from his pockets. He methodically worked to pack his pipe.

  “Do you?” she asked, a slight smile playing on her lips. He returned the smile, voicing nothing as his fingers worked at his pipe. He likely knew she wanted— no, needed— to confront the Shadow Princess. Given her concerns about spies, some knowledge had to be guarded. “I’ve been working on a new spell to find her. It allows me to discern the location from where someone has woven a portal. So far, it has been promising. The downside of it is that it only works if the portal has been cast in the past five or so minutes…” She trailed off, a finger finding its way into her mouth.

  “You wish to fight her?” Thalia’s words cut through her with a shiver.

  “I will, if I have to. This is my fault, my responsibility,” Nyset said, taking in a steadying breath.

  Thalia bobbed her eyebrows with an approving nod. “It is. I am glad to see you bearing the burden of your faults. It appears to have become a lost virtue in the East.”

  “I just wanted to get rid of Greyson, wound the king for his part in killing Walter. I-I didn’t expect this.” The words poured out of her. “It was fortuitous that Isa, Senka, and Juzo found him and the Shadow Princess.”

  “Was it?” Juzo snapped. “Not sure I’d call being almost killed multiple times fortuitous.”

  Nyset ignored his comments. She couldn’t dwell on her mistakes, had to move on lest they bury her with their oppressive weight. “I didn’t intend to start a war with Midgaard. And Scab… had I known he was working with Derwood, I never would have done it. Should’ve made sure the bastard was dead when I found him on the Western Coast. Thought for sure I left him for dead.”

  “It wouldn’t have mattered,” Isa said, bare head reflecting a halo of firelight. Isa rolled up his sleeve, exposing his forearm to show the swirling black script traveling from elbow to wrist. “Scab had this very same brand. Prodal would have found him regardless of what you did. You could’ve crushed Scab under your boots, but if Prodal wanted him…” Isa let out a hoarse laugh, head shaking with exaggeration. “We think we’re in control, but we’re all pawns on his chessboard. We’re just tools to be used, discarded when no longer needed in his great game. I once thought we had some control over our lives, but I was wrong.”

  Nyset clenched her teeth, guts steeling with resolve. “Do you give up so easily, my fearless killer?” She narrowed her eyes at Isa, chin raised. �
�I demand more from you. I expect… more!” She punched the air with a pop, throwing a shower of sparks over the table. Gasps were torn from mouths, chairs squealing as Isa and Claw jumped to their feet, swords half drawn. “Sorry,” Nyset breathed, hands slowly lowering to rest on the table. “I need more from you, all of you. Things are only going to get harder from here. You need to dig deep and find your strength. I can’t do this all alone.”

  Nyset didn’t want to think of Prodal among her other enemies. He was a die whose side couldn’t be predicted, so she chose to focus on what they could control. “Captain Derwood was Greyson’s only alibi. Greyson has no proof of what I did since the good captain is dead. Though his presence in the Tower upon his return didn’t help to absolve my crime,” she said, sliding her focus among Juzo, Isa, and Senka.

  “Prodal? What is this name?” Thalia asked, gaze seeking her advisors for counsel. They appeared just as confused as she, whispers and hand signals flashing between them.

  Isa turned his gaze from Nyset, setting his glare at the stained glass. “You don’t understand. If you saw what I saw…” Senka blanched beside him, apparently triggered by the same memory.

  Nyset raised her head to Thalia. “Prodal. There is little known about it. I think it, he is a god, perhaps a demon. He offers a bargain to the willing for the price of their souls. He’s a collector of sorts. His presence, much like the Shadow’s seems to have traversed time itself. As long as there have been recorded histories, there has been some sign of his mark, according to my research. I don’t deny the fact that my mind is reaching for anything resembling the pact he’d made with Isa. It’s there. Vesla and Claw have confirmed that I’ve yet gone truly mad.” She snickered, flicking her eyes between them. Claw lowered himself into his chair, guiding his beard with one hand. Vesla nodded at her, hawkish face framed by thick, wavy hair.

  “And what do you get in return for this bargain?” Thalia asked, eyes respectfully on Nyset.

  “Anything your heart wishes, I think.” Isa frowned down into his lap. “Make sure you think hard before you decide, however.” His temples flexed with a grimace.

  “We have lore of this creature, though it has been at least three-hundred years since there has been any recorded evidence of his touch upon the Great Tree. The name resounds in my memory and the memories of my closest,” Thalia said, gesturing to the Elders.

  “The magic of the Great Tree wards such demons,” Vanya said, her voice trembling. “But not always.”

  Arl vigorously nodded his agreement. “The Great Tree protects and serves those who protect it.”

  “Isa, what did you see? You said you saw something that instilled fright.” Thalia twisted her long torso to regard him, but he only shook his head, lips pressed together in grim silence. She let out an agitated sigh. “Can you compel him to speak, Arch Wizard?”

  The start of a laugh formed in Nyset’s throat. “I’m afraid not, Thalia. If Isa chooses to keep his silence, he is free to do that.” That brought a slight upward tug to Isa’s lips.

  Claw cleared his throat. “There was a poor bastard of a man in my clan who made a deal with him.” Claw sipped from a mug of steaming elixir. “He asked for immortality, and he got it at a price. He could never die. Even when the time came and when he wanted to move on, he couldn’t. He was doomed to serve Prodal for eternity in this world. His body still bore the aches and pains of war, each stacked on top of the other, never relenting. He eventually left us one night, marching off into the frozen void. Never saw him again, but I’d bet fifty marks he still lives. Somewhere in that Great Night.”

  “I saw you.” Senka’s voice was hard, eyes wide as she stared at Nyset. “In his… domain. I saw you, Nyset.” Hearing Senka finally use her name brought a wan smile. Senka licked her lips, mouth opening and closing. “I saw you dying.”

  A choking silence fell over the room.

  “Dying, Senka? Tell me more. Why have you never mentioned this?” Nyset asked, knowing the answer was obvious.

  Senka stammered, “I don’t know. Yes, dying. The Shadow Princess was standing over you in your office… and oh, by the Dragon it was horrible, horrible. But it’s not real, not true. You’re here, still alive. I was so worried about you, Mistress. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

  “I see,” Nyset said distantly, a wriggling in her guts like a sprouting seed. Acid burned up her throat. “Well, that’s not going to happen, Senka. I’m a dual-wielder. I can summon fire, air, control earth, and call lightning. I can self-heal.” What Nyset said, she realized was more for herself than for Senka. If Walter could fell a creature of the Shadow, so could she. In her heart of hearts, she knew her strength still paled compared to Walter’s at his peak. Would she be enough when the time came?

  “I know that,” Senka said, voice holding not a shred of conviction. “It was just very real…”

  Nyset held up a hand. “It was an illusion, Senka. It was nothing. Only conmen claim to predict the future.”

  Senka cast her gaze at her cup, head slightly nodding. “Right, Mistress.”

  Grimbald grunted, waving his arm. “We should worry about what we can do something about. We have two fronts. What can we do about the Shadow Princess and Midgaard? The king promised war. The Shadow Princess will eventually return to our shores. These are things we know. What can we do? Isn’t that why you said we’re all here?”

  “Right.” Nyset let out a heavy sigh. She was reminded then how Grimbald was an excellent choice for Captain of the Silver Tower’s military wing, the Armsman. “The king has offered us a significantly less bloody solution to war. He has proposed a contest between champions. A fight… to the death.”

  “A favorable resolution if there ever was one,” Thalia drawled. “Who will fight?”

  Nyset sniffed. “Yes. I would fight myself, but none would accept that as the fight would have no honor.”

  “I will fight for you, Mistress.” Claw stood, fist pressed to his heart, eyes narrowed.

  “No, Claw. You’re a wizard. The king’s man is a mortal, I am assured.” Isa started to rise, and she waved him down. “I appreciate your loyalty, Isa, but given your enhancements from the Test of Stones, it too would lack honor and fairness.”

  Juzo scoffed. “You speak of fairness after—”

  “Know your place, Juzo,” Nyset spoke over him with a threatening glare.

  “Why am I here?” he countered, standing and spreading his arms. “Why?”

  “Because,” she seethed, pressing white knuckles into the table, “the realm needs you. This isn’t about me, you, or any of us. This is about the fate of our children’s future. Do you all understand?” Nods went around the room.

  Grimbald balked. “But how do you know the king doesn’t have some trick brewing? He sure does, Ny. You can bet on it. You think mean old King Ezra will fight fair?”

  “I’ll do it,” Senka said, bolting upright. “Give me this honor, Arch Wizard. After all you’ve done for me, for the Scorpions, my family, the clan. Give me the chance to reclaim my honor. I demand this. I’ve never demanded anything of you, but this I demand.” Her voice held no room for argument.

  Nyset licked her teeth. “No, I—”

  “Don’t make me beg,” Senka hissed. “I will, if I must. Please do me this honor, Arch Wizard. I must reclaim the honor of my family.”

  Isa’s eyes were wide, jaw hanging open as he stared at Senka. “Senka,” he reached his hand toward her like he might touch her if she were close enough.

  Nyset continued, “I’m told he’s enormous. You’d be fighting a man almost Grimbald’s size. He—”

  “I fear no man.” Senka’s tone took on a harsh edge. She started to lower herself to the floor, one knee touching, head bowing.

  “Senka, stop. Okay, I’ll grant you this honor. I trust that you will do right by the Tower as my champion and my friend. I just don’t want to see you hurt or worse. But I understand honor, the need for duty.”

  Senka sprang to her feet a
nd dashed around the table, Nyset frozen in confusion. She wrapped her in a quick hug, then released her and kneeled, raising a dagger. “My knife is yours, Arch Wizard. May it cut quick and true.”

  Nyset, having read the lore of the Scorpions to better understand her friend, knew her part in this ritual. “Bleed for me, my warrior,” she said, hoping she said the right words while taking Senka’s Dragon head dagger. Senka raised her palm, and Nyset cut her from thumb to pinky, blade thumping across bones, the wound yawning open and showing globs of muscle and fat.

  Nyset set the dagger on the table and drew on the Phoenix, preparing to heal Senka when she said, “Don’t heal me, Mistress, this must be the way.”

  “Must you always be so stubborn?” She helped Senka to her feet, pressing a cloth into her hand. Senka closed her hand around it and regarded her with a smile, full and pure. “I won’t disappoint you.”

  “I know,” Nyset said, placing a hand on the back of her neck. “Thank you, Senka.”

  “A moving ritual,” Thalia said.

  Juzo had turned his head away, the sight of blood likely far too tempting for him to watch.

  “Woman’s got fruits bigger than many of my former clan mates,” Claw muttered. “What do you know about the King’s champion?” Claw nodded at Nyset.

  Nyset started to pace, arms crossed under her breasts. “Not much, unfortunately. I know he’s from the North,” She raised an eyebrow at him with a hand gesture, prismatic rings reflecting in the firelight. “He’s purported to be an imposing figure, not that I would’ve expected anything less from King Ezra’s choice.”

  “His name?” Claw asked.

  “Bezog. That’s all I know.”

  “Bezog. Bezog Boneslayer, if it’s the same one…” Claw’s mouth worked. “He was a friend once. But there are a lot of lads named Bezog in the North. Northerner’s not too creative when it comes to the giving of names.”

  “If it is this Boneslayer, what do you know about him?” Senka asked, head tilted.