The Shadow Realm

by James Galloway

  The spell was true, however, because Tarrin felt it take hold around them. He felt the Weave react to that spell, as the strands within its area of effect suddenly stopped conducting the energy that fueled Wizard magic, swallowing it up and denying its release into the physical world. Almost at the same time, the Circle that Keritanima was leading did its part, creating a globe of blazing light directly over the steamship, so brilliant, so bright, that it illuminated the sea for almost a longspan in every direction, an incandescent beacon that blinded almost everyone with its brightness, blinded eyes that had become accustomed to the dark gloom.

  Tarrin winced from the light, but his Were-cat eyes quickly adjusted to the change in brightness, allowing him to see what happened next. The nine black ships, floating in the air, suddenly all shuddered, then as one, they literally dropped out of the sky like massive stones. They had been about a hundred and fifty spans above the sea, high enough to clear the masts and rigging of the ships below them, but all of them were about fifty to a hundred spans away from the ships. They all plummeted towards the choppy sea, and Tarrin, as well as many on the silent Wikuni ships, could hear the collective shrieking of the men on board those vessels as they fell out of the sky.

  Those screams were cut brutally short as the Zakkite skyships hit the water. They didn't all hit at once, they struck one after another as the ones closer to the sea hit first, sending huge blasts of water away from them and into the sky, blasts of water that sprayed over the four Wikuni clippers that encircled the unarmed steamship at the center of their formation. The cries of the men were replaced by the deafening roar of those splashes, and the sound of snapping and tearing wood as the nine ships were slammed into the water, were exposed to stresses that their wooden constructions had never been designed to withstand. Masts tore from decks, hulls split, keels snapped like twigs as the nine ships impacted the water. Tarrin had been looking to the port, looking towards the three ships that had filled the gap, and his eyes focused on only one of them in the chaos of flying water and shuddering vessels. That vessel struck the water almost perfectly flat on its keel, and it after the geyser of water cleared out of the way, he saw that the ship had broken in half almost perfectly amidships. The two halves tore away from one another in a squeal of grinding and tearing wood and snapping ropes, and both halves began to sink almost immediately.

  "Merciful Sheniia," Kimmie whispered as she watched the ship Tarrin was watching, watched as stunned men jumped from its two halves, as men flounded in the water, seeking out floating debris. There was a sudden loud boom, the report of a cannon, and then another, and then they came quickly as the Wikuni cannons opened up on the ships, blowing massive holes in the ones that hadn't been shattered by the fall, making sure they would soon be joining the broken ones on the bottom of the sea. The firing only lasted a few moments, as it became clear that the few ships that had survived the fall intact had been burst open at the seams by the impact, and they were quickly beginning to sink. The Wikuni gunners ceased fire without orders, because quite literally, they were firing on doomed ships. They all stopped and watched as ship after ship slipped under the waves.

  In a matter of ten minutes, it was over. The last of the Zakkite skyships slipped beneath the waves, leaving the seas surrounding the five Wikuni vessels littered with debris, bodies, and the men who had survived the fall, who were clinging nervelessly to whatever they could find. They were all stunned, absolutely senseless after the harrowing fall and impact with the water, or they were struck dumb with disbelief that their trap had been turned back on them with such a devastating effect. Keritanima ended the spell of light and broke the Circle, sending Dar and Allia back below so they could either return to bed or get dressed. Camara Tal, seeing that neither her sword nor her healing spells would be needed, also went back below decks, muttering in displeasure, but the relief of not having a battle showed on her face. Any warrior was pleased when it turned out that they didn't have to fight, even seasoned veterans like Camara Tal. Tarrin's father had always told him that the favorite saying of the men in the army, even the Rangers, was that the best kind of battle was the one that was avoided.

  "I'd say your plan worked, Tarrin," Azakar said calmly, laying the flat of his sword on his shoulder. "Are the Wizards still being blocked?" he asked, sheathing his weapon. It was apparent that it wasn't going to be needed.

  Tarrin nodded.

  "Then if Camara Tal is right, they're helpless," he surmised. "It'll just be a matter of picking them up."

  "No, it won't," Kimmie said with a sigh. "As soon as Tarrin drops the spell, they'll get their magic back. We can't afford that. We can't take prisoners, Zak. Not now. And especially not Zakkites."

  Azakar looked at Kimmie with surprise, stunned that the gentle Were-cat who was so amiable would say something so ruthless. "But they'll die if we leave them out there!" he protested.

  "They won't be helpless, Zak," Kimmie told him. "Some of those men swimming around out there are Wizards. They'll have magic that will help them save themselves."

  "But what about the slaves?" Azakar said loudly. "They didn't ask to be here, and the Wizards aren't going to save them! Are we going to leave innocent men out there to die? Are we?" he demanded with a shout.

  "We are," Tarrin said in a low voice, his tail slashing behind him as he looked over his shoulder at the Mahuut.

  "That's cruel!" Azakar said accusingly.

  "I'm not known for my sentimentality, Zak," he replied in a cool tone, narrowing his eyes at his fellow Knight.

  "We can't just leave innocent men out there to die!" Azakar shouted.

  "I'll give you a choice, Zak," Tarrin told him, turning around halfway. "We either leave them behind, or I'll kill them all right now."

  Azakar gaped at him in horror.

  "This is not a game, Zak, and we don't have time to be chivilrous, or even nice. Those men will threaten us reaching our goal, and I won't let anything stand in our way."

  "But leaving them out there, that's cruel! That's evil!"

  Tarrin raised a glowing paw, lightning crackling around his fingers. "Then I'll make sure they don't suffer very long," he said in a deadly serious voice.

  "No!" Azakar said, reaching for Tarrin's paw, but the Were-cat pulled back out of his reach too quickly for him. "Tarrin, we can't do this! Kimmie, tell him we can't leave those men to die!"

  "Zak, sometimes you're too much a dreamer," Kimmie sighed, looking up at him with compassionate eyes. "Tarrin is right, Zak. This is a war, my big friend, and sometimes in a war we have to do things we don't like."

  "Well, I'm not going to be a party to murder!" Azakar shouted.

  "Then choose, Azakar. It's up to you, because to be completely honest, I don't care either way."

  Azakar looked at him with disbelieving eyes, shock apparent on his face. "I, I won't let you kill them," Azakar stated defiantly.

  "Then we leave them behind," Tarrin said, turning his back on the Mahuut.

  "I said I won't let you kill them," Azakar said hotly, drawing his sword.

  Tarrin stopped dead. "Don't go any further, Zak," he warned in a deceptively soft voice, not looking at the Knight. "If you use that sword against me, you won't live to resheathe it."

  Before things could deteriorate any further, Kimmie put herself between the two towering males, putting a paw on Azakar's chest and pushing him away. "Zak, are you insane?" Kimmie demanded in a surprised voice.

  "I'm not going to let him kill them," Azakar said with a snarl.

  "He's not. I am," Keritanima said in a strong voice from behind the Mahuut. Azakar turned and looked at the Wikuni Queen, whose eyes were hard and her posture stiff. The bearing of a monarch, not the young woman they all knew. "We take no prisoners, Zak. None. We can't afford the risk."

  "I can't believe any of you!" Azakar hissed at her. "You're going to condemn innocent men to death because it's not convenient for you?"

  "You have a choice, Zak," Keritanima told him in a level voice. "You
can see the little picture, or you can see the big picture. We can pick up the survivors and save a few dozen lives. And if we do, we put at risk the lives of every single person on these ships, and even more than that, every single person you know and love. We put the lives of everyone in my kingdom at risk, in Suld at risk, bloody hells, we put everyone in the world at risk. You forget what we're doing out here. We run the risk of letting someone else beat us to the Firestaff, and having them use it. You know what's going to happen if that happens. Are you willing to risk that, Zak? Are you ready to put my life on the line? Miranda's? Dolanna's? Everyone you know and love? Are those few dozen lives worth risking the safety of the entire world?"

  Azakar lowered his sword and his head, his eyes haunted.

  "That's right. It's not an easy thing to face, is it?" Keritanima asked with a quavering voice. "Do you think I enjoy abandoning men to the sea? I don't, I assure you. If anyone understands, if anyone wouldn't want to see it happen, it's a Wikuni. But I'm going to do it because the risk I'd take if I saved them is just too terrible to contemplate. Those men are going to die. That's a fact that you can't change. They can die here and now, or they can die when we fail and unleash ultimate horror on the world. The only question is how many other innocent people are going to die with them."

  Keritanima looked stern, but Tarrin could see the tears forming in her eyes. "So make your choice, Zak. Because I simply can't stand here and talk about this anymore."

  With a hanging head, Azakar dropped his sword to the deck.

  "Donovan, pass this order," Keritanima told the Tellurian as he approached her, speaking in a voice almost trembling as she tried to control it. "Pick up no survivors, and discourage them from approaching the ships. We'll weigh anchor and go under sail until the steam engine is fixed. We are leaving this place. We have to get away from those Zakkites before Tarrin can lower his spell of disruption, and I won't have him kill himself maintaining the spell while we lounge around here." She sniffled. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'd really like to be alone right now," Keritanima said with teary eyes, turning and running towards the stairs leading below decks.

  Tarrin sighed. That couldn't have been easy for her. The memory of the dream came back to him, of Keritanima standing on a mound of skulls, weeping. Now he understood the meaning of it. Keritanima had no qualms about destroying the guilty, but when it came to sacrificing the innocent, it was a different story. It was something that, as a queen, she occasionally was forced to do, but it was never easy for her. And if it did become easy, then she would be no better than her father was. Tarrin looked towards Miranda, and they shared a knowing look, then the mink ran after her friend and employer. Miranda understood. The dream had been a warning, he felt, a warning to not allow Keritanima to dwell on what had happened. Miranda would know what to do.

  Tarrin felt the weight of the spell begin to take its toll on him. It had taken High Sorcery to create, and he couldn't let go of High Sorcery until he ended it. His paws still glowed with Magelight, and they would remain so until he could safely end the spell. But as Keritanima pointed out to Azakar, he couldn't do that so long as they were close to the surviving Zakkites.

  "I hate this," Azakar finally said, his head still hung low.

  Tarrin reached down and picked up his sword, then wiped the water off of it and resheathed it for him. "So do I, Zak," he said honestly. "I know you think I'm a monster, but maybe now you understand me a little better. I don't do what I do because I like it. I do what I do because I know what will happen if we fail. In this case, my gentle friend, the ends justify the means. We must succeed, no matter what."

  "No matter the cost?" he said in a quiet, plaintive voice.

  Tarrin bowed his head himself, a wave of emptiness flowing through him, and there was no sound but the sound of the rain on the deck. "Some of us have already paid that price," he told the Mahuut. "Thank your gods you weren't one of them." Then he padded slowly, statefully, towards the stairs to return to the cabin, to get out of the pounding rain.

  Chapter 9

  As always, whenever someone confronted Tarrin about what he had become, it caused him to undergo a period of depression afterwards. Tarrin knew what he was, but he didn't revel in it the way some people thought he did. He had been like Azakar once, gentle and caring, but the Cat, time, betrayal, and the danger of his mission had changed him. He knew that it changed him, he knew that if the Tarrin that had been could see himself now, he would be horrified. But in the end, there was nothing he could do about it. And since it was a situation he couldn't change, he didn't dwell on it. That was forced upon him by the Cat, but in a way, he was glad of it.

  He wouldn't have been able to be very depressed even if he tried, because of Kimmie. She stayed with him the entire day, using careful, gentle words and sincere affection, humor and compassion, to prevent him from falling back in that black pit of nearly psychotic self-torture. She lavished the same kind of attention on him that he had been lavishing on her, making him feel like the most important person in the world. Kimmie did indeed know him better than he knew himself, and her previous experience dealing with Mist had made her almost invincible in her battle to keep him from brooding.

  Things were rather tense on the vessel after the surprisingly swift victory over the Zakkites, and Tarrin was only a part of it. Phandebrass and four of the Tellurian engineers had somehow--nobody knew how--managed to salvage some of the magical equipment from the lone Zakkite ship that had not sunk as the five Wikuni vessels prepared to get under way. It took so long because the steampship's sails hadn't been unfurled since they started out, and the sailors needed a little extra time to set the rigging to support the sails. Phandebrass and his fellow Tellurians had left in a longboat--Keritanima was furious that the sailors had helped the mage lower it--and had somehow managed to get over to the ship without any of the Zakkites in the sea challenging him or trying to climb into his boat. They then boarded the badly listing ship, which would sink at any moment, and had managed to get out just as it did sink with several enemy spellbooks and other strange things thrown into a sack. What was most surprising of all was that the mage had somehow pulled up the magical device that allowed the skyships to fly, pulled it off the deck, tied a rope to it, tied the rope to the longboat, and then let the ship sink with the device still aboard. The longboat very nearly sank when the rope kept it from falling into the deep, and Phandebrass and two of the Tellurians that were helping him had to bail frantically as the other two rowed desperately to get the longboat back to where they could tie it to a Wikuni vessel and keep it from going under.

  After he got back, Keritanima let him have it. But it was just the kind of thing that Phandebrass would do, and they all knew it. Whenever Phandebrass found something that intrigued him, he would go to almost any lengths to study it or research it, even at tremendous personal risk. He was almost crazy that way. He had been curious about how the Zakkites made their ships fly, for no mage outside Zakkar had ever been aboard one of their legendary skyships. Tarrin had seen their flying device before, and had described it to the Wizard long ago, during one of their many talks. Phandebrass knew exactly what to look for, so when they boarded the sinking ship, he knew exactly what to do. He had had the Tellurians go about tearing the device out of the deck as he recovered any magical equipment he thought may be useful or interesting to study.

  And so, those were the circumstances that caused a flying device from a Zakkite skyship to be lashed down onto the spare deck space on the steamship.

  Phandebrass was deleriously happy about it, so happy in fact that he handed over all the spellbooks and magical knicknacks to Kimmie for her to study as he worked on the flying device. It was a large metal contraption that had a floor and two pillars, and from the pillars there were chains with manacles on the ends. Tarrin had seen that device before, when he had destroyed the Zakkites long ago when they were on the Star of Jerod, seen a Wyvern locked into those manacles just before destroying the ship with Sorcery. It was
very large, so large in fact that it should have sunk the longboat like a stone as soon as the rope that tied the two together had snapped taut. How the longboat managed to stay afloat was an absolute mystery, and only enhanced Phandebrass unusual reputation among his friends. The Wizard was wild and scattered, but he seemed to have this absolutely amazing luck that allowed him to slither through any situation unscathed. That mystical luck had saved the Wizard once again.

  The steam engine was repaired at about noontime the next day, as Keritanima took Tarrin down into the engine room so Donovan could show him the part that had broken. Tarrin used Druidic magic to Conjure a replacement, and once it was installed, they were under steam once again and moving at good speed towards their destination.

  Those days were filled with magical uncertainty. It turned out that it wasn't the spells of the Zakkites that made them so devastating in an attack on other ships, it was their magical objects. Phandebrass had recovered nine separate little wooden sticks that Kimmie called wands, sticks that had been magically imbued with the power to invoke a magical spell upon command. It was the same spell over and over again, and each of the little wand devices could only invoke the spell so many times before its magical supply was exhuasted. Tarrin could feel that magical power stored inside the little sticks. What made everyone so nervous was when Kimmie worked on unlocking the means of activating each wand. Magical balls of fire or raking blasts of lightning or pale beams of magical energy would fly across the deck at random intervals as Kimmie succeeded in discovering the method of activating each wand, then began studying them to determine their function. While she was doing that, Phandebrass was absolutely attached to his flying machine, never moving more than twenty spans from it as he measured it, studied it, experimented on it, even tried to cut the tip off one of the tapered pillars to learn what the device had been made from. His experimentations had noticable effects on the device, and on the ship to which it had been attached. On one occasion, the entire ship suddenly lifted about two spans off the surface of the water for about three heartbeats, then dropped back down, shaking up the entire ship and everything in it. An infuriated Donovan ran out from the engine room and actually slapped Phandebrass across the face because his little stunt had broken a part in the steam engine. Tarrin was summoned to Conjure a replacement part, and after about three hours, the ship was again under way.