Shadow and Flame

by Gail Z. Martin

  Outside, a thunderstorm raged, driving rain against the windows, wind howling through the shutters. “What’s the next step?” Connor asked.

  “Nidhud has gone back to brief Dolan and the rest of the Knights of Esthrane on Thrane’s latest moves, and what we know about Nagok,” Penhallow replied. “We’re certain Nagok is one of Thrane’s puppets. I expect Nidhud to return tomorrow night with Dolan and an updated battle plan.”

  “Is Nagok as fearsome as his reputation?” Connor asked.

  Grimur shrugged. “He’s a beast caller. That’s a rare magic. I haven’t seen a powerful beast caller in over a century.”

  “Longer than that,” the Wraith Lord said, frowning as he thought. “And powerful—but not invincible. In some ways, I would argue that when mages are especially powerful in one area, they are more limited in others.”

  “I agree.” Grimur nodded. “A beast caller’s real strength is surprise. Calling down a pack of wolves or a flock of birds and forcing them to attack creates panic. In some ways, it’s more unsettling for nature to turn on an army than for them to face ghosts or even animated corpses.”

  “How can we turn his limits against him?” Connor asked. “And are there ways we can make his strengths of less impact?”

  “I believe that’s where I come in,” Tormod Solveig said. “The question is, how can I use my necromancy against Thrane and Reese without causing problems for our allied talishte?”

  “It can be done,” Grimur said. “Your power as a necromancer only affects our kind during daylight. So you—and Connor—could make the first strike against the mortal soldiers and at least some of Thrane’s brood before dark.”

  “After dark, once the talishte awaken, I can offer other magic as well as my sword, but I agree that I’m best used before dark,” Tormod replied.

  “Mages always face a threefold limit,” Grimur replied. “Range, duration, and intensity. So Nagok is not invincible.”

  “I’ve got watchers with Niklas Theilsson’s troops,” Penhallow said. “We should be getting a report from them in a day or so. If we watch for patterns in how Nagok uses his power in battle, we’ll know his limitations.”

  “Nagok is not our immediate problem,” the Wraith Lord said. “It’s Thrane we need to worry about. He’s never been reticent about making fledglings, and he’s had a long existence in which to make them. The rogue Elders also tended to have larger broods, with fewer compunctions about turning—or killing—mortals. That puts us at something of a disadvantage.”

  “Perhaps,” Penhallow said. “On the other hand, I’ve fought some of their brood, and they did not make wise choices on those they turned. Loyalty only counts for so much. Intelligence, initiative, creativity—that’s what turns the tide in a battle.”

  “We’ve got to protect our people,” the Wraith Lord said. “That last attack of Thrane’s cost us a dozen talishte. The allied Elders are concerned.”

  “So how do we stop Thrane?” Connor asked.

  “We get him to overextend himself,” the Wraith Lord replied. “That’s one of the things that led to his downfall, long ago.”

  “How do we get him to do that? Surely his defeat taught him not to repeat the same mistake,” Tormod said.

  Penhallow’s smile was sad. “Talishte were once human, Tormod. How often do mortals make the same mistake again and again?”

  “I had hoped that learning might come with a long existence,” Connor replied.

  “Sadly, not as often as you might expect,” Grimur said. “Thrane is as grandiose as ever, and as willing to allow others to die for his grand schemes. Witness his current path. Donderath is a blank canvas. There is plenty of room for him to carve out a territory for himself, rule it as a lord. If he dealt humanely with the mortals, he would be left alone. But of course, he wants to rule it all.”

  “Rule a wasteland, after the fighting is done,” Connor muttered. “But how can you even get close to him? He’s surrounded by his brood, and Reese’s brood.”

  “We take the battle to him,” the Wraith Lord said with a predatory smile.

  The next evening, Westbain’s great hall was crowded with talishte. Nidhud and Dolan, as well as several of the other Knights of Esthrane, stood at the end of the long table along with Penhallow. While the Wraith Lord could make himself seen and heard for a limited time without Connor’s help, to address the gathering of allied Elders, he had asked to use Connor’s body for greater physical presence.

  For once, Connor did not mind. I’d rather be possessed by an ancient talishte-mage in a room of talishte than be a mere mortal. Sheep among wolves and all that.

  If you are a sheep, then it is a sheep with fangs, claws, and a remarkable survival instinct, the Wraith Lord replied silently, drifting off into a baritone chuckle. You are hardly a ‘mere’ mortal.

  All of the allied Elders with the exception of Bayard were there. Aldwin Carlisle, Garrick Dalton, and Marin Jarett stood together near one wall holding half-empty goblets of deer blood, watching Nidhud and Dolan skeptically. Dag Marlief—Onyx—had been destroyed in the attack that freed Reese.

  “Our plan to destroy Thrane involves using ourselves as bait,” General Dolan said. Tonight both he and Nidhud wore the full regalia of the Knights of Esthrane, and Connor was certain it was to evoke the memory both of the Knights’ legendary prowess as warriors and their uncanny level of success, a reputation that had once led mortal kings to banish them as a threat.

  “Thrane is certain of his superiority. And if we allow him to choose the time and place of his strikes, he has the upper hand,” Dolan continued. “He has amassed an army, and he’s itching to use it. So we’ll be his targets, one way or the other. But if we present opportunities that appear too good to pass up yet are carefully managed to provide us the advantage, then we’ll either decimate his troops or sour his allies.”

  “Why should he go after us more than once?” Carlisle asked, swirling the blood in his goblet. “Surely after the first loss, he’ll realize that the game is rigged against him.”

  Dolan nodded. “That’s why the opportunities must be offered close together, so that he must choose ‘and’ and not ‘or’ without time to evaluate between. They must appear logical, and we must appear to take reasonable precautions. And we must move in utter secrecy.” He paused. “I believe we have traitors among the broods.”

  A babble of voices strenuously objected. Dolan raised his hand for silence, and acknowledged Garrick Dalton. “Our broods are bound to us by the kruvgaldur,” Dalton protested. “How can there be traitors?”

  “The kruvgaldur is strongest with the get you made directly and the mortals whom you have bound most deeply,” the Wraith Lord replied through Connor. “It remains strong between maker and fledge, but each generation weakens the strength of the bond back to you. Past the third generation, it is unreliable as a means of forewarning, and limited as a means of control, best mostly for surveillance. That is even truer for the bond between you and the human servants of your get.”

  “The kruvgaldur is strongest for urgent needs, life-or-death warnings,” Dolan replied. “But we have all heard of progeny that found ways to destroy their makers. For disloyalty, the kruvgaldur is a lazy bond. It must be actively monitored—preferably by reading the blood—in order to fully know the intent of one’s get. How many of you read your broods individually on a regular basis? How many have ever read the get of your get? Their servants?”

  Reluctantly, the former Elders shook their heads. “That is why we insisted that tonight’s meeting be among our inner circle,” the Wraith Lord said.

  “You have your human servant,” Jarett said petulantly.

  The Wraith Lord fixed him with a glare. “And I am inhabiting his mind and his body. Can you do the same?” Annoyed, the talishte looked away.

  “We will arm you,” the Wraith Lord continued. “Each of you will be given a destination. We fully expect you to be attacked, either on the route or when you reach where you’re going. Yo
u and your direct get will know of the ruse—and you must blood-read them to ensure their loyalty,” the Wraith Lord said.

  “Half of your brood will go with you, half will remain with the loyal get,” Dolan continued. “Those who go are the bait. Those who remain will be the strike force. I will leave it to you to decide which half you personally wish to be in, but Thrane’s men should see a mix of Elders staying and going.”

  “And the traitor? What about finding him?” Carlisle asked with a set of the jaw that told Connor he meant to deal permanently with that problem.

  “You are to do nothing to find the traitor, or even acknowledge outside this room that there is a traitor,” Dolan said. “If we do anything at this point to root out the disloyal ones, Thrane will know and our ruse won’t work. We’ll know soon enough who the untrustworthy ones are. And when they show themselves, you may deal with them as you see fit.”

  “All well and good that we draw off the rogue Elders and their broods,” Dalton said. “But what of Thrane?”

  Nidhud nodded. “A small team will go after Thrane and Reese. We’ve chosen talishte with the skills we believe can defeat him. He’ll have minimal mortal support to use against us here, at Rodestead House and at Mirdalur.”

  “I’ve dispatched Geir to warn Niklas Theilsson and Blaine McFadden, along with Traher Voss,” Dolan said. “Pollard and Hennoch will find quite a few talishte from our broods waiting, along with Penhallow’s soldiers and several mages. It won’t be the rout he expects, and in the meantime, Theilsson and McFadden will bring their army against Nagok, while Pollard and Hennoch are engaged a few days’ ride distant.”

  “Nagok also has talishte at his disposal,” Jarrett pointed out.

  “Nagok is Thrane’s man,” Penhallow said. “The talishte that support him are Thrane’s get, except for Aubergine. Destroy Thrane, and we destroy their only reason to be loyal to Nagok.”

  I notice you’re not mentioning the Elgin Spike, Connor observed silently.

  No, we’re not. We’re not going to remind them of it. The less said, the better, the Wraith Lord replied in his mind. Also why Grimur is keeping to his rooms, since his presence would be a reminder.

  “Your plan is full of uncertainties,” Carlisle said. “It’s risky.”

  Dolan nodded. “All battle plans are,” he acknowledged. “But we believe that a concerted, multifront strike against Thrane’s allies and Thrane and Reese themselves will prevail.” He paused and looked around the room at the talishte assembled there. Once again, Connor was very aware of being the lone mortal in a room full of ancient predators.

  “I cannot emphasize how important it is that this initial strike be successful,” Dolan said. “Right now, Thrane is arrogant. He’s sure that we’re too disorganized to rise against him, and that his plans are too clever for us to comprehend. He doesn’t know the full scope of the resources at our command. If we attempt this strike and fail, Thrane won’t present such an easy target again. We may lose our chance to win, and the cost will be dear indeed.”

  The next two candlemarks were spent hammering out the details, as the former Elders asked a seemingly endless series of questions, some pertinent, some not. Dolan, Nidhud, Penhallow, and the Wraith Lord answered with more patience than Connor could muster, doing their best to win over the headstrong Elders and gain their full cooperation.

  “I’ve taken the liberty of placing a geas upon everyone in this room,” the Wraith Lord said, and there was an audible rustling as all those present turned to stare at Connor. “For all our safety, I have insisted that what has been discussed here not be mentioned to any but the intended partners.”

  “You have no right—” Jarett said, a flush coming to her face.

  “He has every right,” Carlisle said. “Kierken is correct. We all stand to lose everything if someone among us speaks of our plans too widely. And while I would like to believe that all of my former Elder Council fellows understand discretion, I fear that too often in the past, we have learned of council business shared indelicately.”

  Everyone in the room avoided looking at Dalton. The talishte had gone rigid and particularly pale, and Connor wondered if this was an old matter and a sore subject. Dalton knows why I’ve done such a thing, the Wraith Lord commented to Connor. And while neither he nor the others like it, they understand the consequences.

  “We’ll see if Thrane takes your bait,” Jarett said. “If not, then it’s time we took matters into our own hands.” One by one, the Elders filed out, disappearing into the night.

  Thank you for your service, the Wraith Lord said. I will depart. And with that, Connor shuddered and felt Kierken Vandholt’s spirit leave him.

  Connor sagged against the table. He took a deep breath and straightened. “When you form your strike force to go against Thrane, I’m going with you.”

  “Absolutely not,” Penhallow and the Wraith Lord said in unison.

  Connor raised an eyebrow. “It makes no sense to leave me behind. Without me, you lack the full power of a mage and a fighter, as well as the physical prowess of a talishte who is older than Thrane.”

  “Even with me in possession, you are not full talishte in strength or immortality,” the Wraith Lord said. “You are not quite as fast, nor can you fly.”

  “Neither can you,” Connor observed.

  “I don’t want to lose you,” Penhallow said. “You’re too valuable an asset to me. Thrane would see you as a weak point, use you against us.”

  “Factor that into the plan,” Connor said, raising his chin defiantly. “He knows the Wraith Lord can possess me, but he was dismissive of it back at Lundmyhre. He hasn’t seen us fight together, and I bet he doesn’t know that the Wraith Lord’s magic is enhanced when he’s got a body to use.”

  “I cannot sanction this,” the Wraith Lord said.

  “Yet he has a very good point,” Dolan remarked. The Wraith Lord’s spirit turned to glower at the Knight of Esthrane, and Penhallow’s expression made it clear that Dolan’s remark was unwelcome. “With his help, we nearly have Kierken Vandholt at his full power,” Dolan continued. “It’s likely to take all of us, at full strength, to defeat Thrane and the rogue Elders, not to mention Nagok. I fear that in this, there is no real choice if you wish to win.”

  “Connor, there will be many talishte that don’t survive these battles,” Penhallow said. “It is very likely that you could be injured too badly for us to heal you. You don’t have to do this.”

  “I’ve come this far,” Connor said. “I’ve seen what the Wraith Lord can do through me. And if Thrane and Nagok win, I have to live with the consequences, in a Donderath I don’t want to see exist. I have a great deal at stake as Bevin Connor, aside from talishte and spirits and Elders. This is my kingdom, too. And if I were not in Lord Penhallow’s service, I would be fighting with Blaine McFadden’s army.” He crossed his arms, as if daring them to disagree.

  The Wraith Lord chuckled. “I have the distinct impression, Lanyon, that if he could, he might run off and enlist, just to make his point.” His tone was a mixture of respect and fond indulgence. “Once again, you never cease to amaze me, Bevin.”

  Penhallow looked as if he would have let out a long sigh, had he needed to breathe. “I fear he has a good point, and it is well taken. Very well. But,” he said, his tone growing stern, “I do not consider you to be expendable. Kierken will do his best to protect you, but I also expect that you will take good care, under orders of your master, to come back alive and in one piece.”

  Connor inclined his head in acknowledgment. “Agreed, m’lords. And I am most definitely intending to come back from this.” Unbidden, the warning he had received from Garnoc in his delirium echoed in his mind, and he forced it away. I’ve always known this could cost me my life. At least if it does, I’ll have done something that mattered. He felt a mixture of excitement and nervous nausea. “Now, what about that plan?”

  Connor found Zaryae sitting on the garden terrace when he left the strategy meeting. �
��I’m late,” he said. “I was afraid you wouldn’t wait.”

  Zaryae smiled and took his hand. “I figured you would find me one way or another when you were done. Westbain’s not that large.”

  Connor sat down next to Zaryae on the stone bench and she rested her head on his shoulder. Their friendship had become more than that on the long journey back from Edgeland, and Connor was grateful for her company. It means a lot that we both understand how it is to live with a magical gift that can be more of a curse. I can’t imagine trying to explain it to someone who hadn’t experienced magic of their own.

  “Are the plans set?” she asked.

  Connor nodded. “As much as plans ever are.” He looked out onto the moonlit gardens. Before the Meroven War, Westbain had belonged to Vedran Pollard. Penhallow had seized it, partly in retribution for Pollard’s men having burned Penhallow’s day crypt. Though Westbain had not suffered as much damage as the manors belonging to Lords of the Blood, the Great Fire and the Conflagration had gone hard on the old home and its lands.

  The gardens were overgrown, burned in places, while in other spots, large trees and bushes had been torn up by the roots. Still, with a little imagination Connor could envision what it must have looked like in its prime. A ruined fountain stood empty in the center of what were once sculptured hedges. Gravel pathways led down toward banks that had been filled with flowers and now overflowed with weeds. At the far end was a weathered pergola that had somehow escaped the fire.

  “Verran and the twins are packing to return to Glenreith—or to wherever Blaine’s army is now,” Zaryae said, looking down into the old gardens.

  “Aren’t you going with them?” Connor asked, pulled out of his thoughts by her unexpected comment.

  Zaryae shook her head. “I’m staying here. I want to help with the fight against Thrane. And I want to be with you.”