The wizard canceled the light spell with a wave of his hand and tightened his shield so that it barely fit around his body. He joined the silver dragon and they stood a few feet from the cliff's edge.
“We are directly above the beach now,” she told him in a hushed voice. “It is perhaps thirty feet below us. Listen. You can hear the risen dead as they leave the sea.”
It was true. Simon heard the scrape of bone on rock and an occasional hiss of malevolence. How something without lungs, not to mention vocal cords, could make any sound at all was beyond him. But they did and it was horrible.
“Now look down. What do you see?”
Simon peered carefully over the edge, wondering what Esmiralla expected him to see in the almost total darkness. The sky was cloudless and the moon hadn't risen yet, which made it almost impossible to see more than a few feet in any direction.
“What am I...wait. What is that?”
On the beach, just above the water line, was something written on the rocky shore. It glowed a hideous shade of greenish-yellow, the color of pus and rot. Against the symbol were the outlines of the undead as they crawled across it and headed off to God knew where. The symbol, or rune, had to be at least ten feet across. Simon had never seen anything like it.
“Is it a rune?” he asked quietly.
“A glyph. Ancient and forbidden. The Chaos lords are truly desperate to give such a thing to a human.”
“But why? It summons the dead, obviously, but the necromancers could do that anyway, right?”
“It awakens the dead, yes, but over a massive area. On their own, necromancers must raise the dead one at a time. The ritual is slow, it is laborious. It drains the caster, much as the summoning of elementals does to you.”
Simon nodded in the dark.
“But this glyph draws the dead from miles out into the ocean. It raises the dead en masse and, more tellingly, it binds them to the personal servitude of the necromancer.”
Simon stepped back from the edge, a little nervous about his footing in the dark.
“Okay, now you've lost me. Aren't all of a necromancer's servants bound to him?”
“Certainly not,” Esmiralla replied, sounding a bit tense.
Simon had never heard that in her voice before and peered at her in the darkness.
Interesting, he thought. So there is something that can scare even a silver dragon.
“Think of a necromancer as more of a shepherd than a master,” she continued in a strained voice. “They can direct the undead, push them to perform certain deeds or attack certain targets. But if the spell-casters attempt to use those mindless tools for something other than what the lords of Chaos wish, they will not do it. They are linked to the gods, not the necromancers.”
“Ah, I see,” Simon told her, a light going on in his brain. “This glyph gives the casters total control over the walking dead, right?”
“Precisely. So if one of these necromancers decided to use their army to, say, set up a kingdom for themselves, the Chaos lords would be powerless to stop it.”
“Well, considering how few humans are left in the world, it would literally be a kingdom of the dead,” Simon told her sourly. “And where's the fun in that for any of those evil bastards?”
“For now,” Esmiralla said. “My point, and the reason Argentium wanted you to see this, is to show you that this evil is out there now. The dark gods have released this glyph, taught it to mortals, and now the knowledge cannot be locked away again. What else have they given to their servants, I wonder?”
Simon shuddered, a sudden chill tickling his spine. She made a good point. Once the genie is out of the bottle, or you open Pandora's box, you can't seal it up again. What was about to be used against them?
“However, that worry is for another day. For now, if you would not mind a suggestion, I think that you should destroy that glyph. It will break the spell and send those undead back to their rest.”
“Me? Can't you do it?”
“It is your task, sir wizard, not mine. I have red dragons to kill. Good luck, Simon O'Toole. I feel sure that we will meet again.”
There was a strange, drawn-out sound, like fingernails scraping across silk and then a massive gust of wind blew Simon backwards on to his butt.
“Ouch!”
He looked up just in time to see the stars above him blotted out by huge wings, and then the dragon flapped once and was gone.
She sure knows how to make an exit, he thought as he pushed himself to his feet again and rubbed his backside.
He walked back to the cliff edge and looked down again. Hmm, it looked like the symbol had been painted on to the ground, although God knew what horrible substance was used instead of real paint.
Nothing a little fire can't erase, he thought with relish.
The idea would have the added benefit of sending a message to at least one of the necromancers; someone is willing to stand against you.
Simon stood up straighter, lowered his staff and pointed it at the glyph. He knew that he was smiling even though the situation was very grim.
Maybe I enjoy this stuff a little too much, was his fleeting thought, to which another part of his mind replied 'absolutely' and laughed.
“Fireball!”
Simon had no idea what time it was when he appeared in the front yard of his tower. The night was just falling and the sky was still bright as he stumbled out of the void, bracing himself with his staff.
I could really use a nap, he thought dully. And a drink.
“Ah, there you are!” someone exclaimed from atop the outer wall.
He turned and looked up and saw Aeris flying down toward him.
“Hey, how are you doing?” the wizard asked with a tired smile.
“Better than you, from the look of things. Are you all right?”
Simon nodded as he walked up the steps to his front door.
“Yeah. Bit tired but I'm fine. What about you and Kronk?”
“Fine, fine. We came home after you were taken away by Argentium. How did that go?”
They entered the tower and Simon lit all of the candles with a thought. He leaned his staff against the wall next to the door, walked to the stairs and looked back at Aeris.
“I'll tell you all about it in a minute. I want to change first. Um, could you...?”
“Put on the kettle? Yes, I can do that, oh great and powerful one.”
“Ugh.”
Simon made a face at Aeris and began trudging up the stairs.
“Thanks. I'll be back down in a bit.”
In his bedroom, the wizard stripped off all of his clothes and changed completely. Somehow being near those undead monstrosities made him feel contaminated and he needed fresh clothing to get over the sensation.
He put on a new pair of woolen socks that he'd traded for at Nottinghill and sighed in relief. They just felt so good. Then he went into his study carrying his boots, lit the candles and grabbed his mirror.
Back downstairs, Kronk greeted him while Aeris puttered around the kitchen. Simon grinned at the little guy, left his boots by the cabinet near the front door and walked over to the kitchen table.
“Are you well, master?” the little guy asked. He was already standing on the table near the wizard's usual chair.
“I'm good, thanks.”
Simon sat down at the table and leaned back. He stretched and rotated his spine, trying to ease his aching back.
“How are you two? Sorry about leaving so abruptly from that mountaintop, but it wasn't my idea.”
“We know that,” Aeris assured him as he carried the hot kettle to the counter. “Who can argue with a being as powerful as the argent dragon? So what happened?”
The wizard got up again and gratefully accepted a cup of tea. He walked over to his easy chair, sat down and made himself comfortable while he waited for the elementals to join him.
This really is domestic in a weird sort of way, he thought as he sipped his tea and watched Kronk hop on to an
arm of the chair.
I mean it would be bizarre to my old self, but to me now it's home. My tower, my chair, these two little people.
He smiled into the dancing flames, feeling content for the first time in quite a while.
“And what are you smirking about?” Aeris asked as he floated over to hover near Simon's left hand.
“Nothing important. Okay, so let me tell you what happened. Surprise number one, I ran into Esmiralla.”
Aeris' reaction would have made a sailor blush.
“Hey now; language!” Kronk said primly.
“Oh, yes Mom,” the air elemental retorted. “Don't language me. That, that...dragon used our wizard. No, more than used; she mutilated him! And now you're worried about the language I use to describe her?”
Kronk frowned as he considered Aeris' words.
“Actually, you are right,” he ended up saying. “Call her what you will.”
Before Aeris could go on a rant, Simon pointed at him.
“Stop,” he said firmly. “I'm aware of what she did to me; no one knows better than I. But while I will never forgive or trust her, we may need to interact with her in the future and I don't want to hear a litany of her sins every time we do. I get it, okay? I get it. And now you need to get over it. All right?”
Aeris seemed taken aback.
“Well, aren't you a kinder, gentler soul suddenly,” he said with a edge in his voice.
“No, I'm just a realist. And I think that's one of the reasons Argentium sent me to her, to get me used to dealing with her again. He knows how I feel as well as you do, but he also knows that our cooperation will be needed in the days ahead. Now, stay calm and let me tell you what I saw.”
When he was done telling his story, Simon got up and put on the kettle again.
He stood by the counter waiting for it to boil and looked at the elementals.
“So what do you two think?” he asked.
“I think that we're in deep trouble,” Aeris told him after a quick glance at Kronk. “If those necromancers are being given extra powers by the gods, who knows where it will lead? Spell-casters have limits on how far their magic can take them for a reason, my dear wizard. No offense, but there have been humans in the distant past who have tried to rule over others, many others, and it was only because their power wasn't unlimited that they failed.”
Simon made a fresh cup of tea and sat down again.
“I know. We had tyrants in my day as well. But Esmiralla didn't say their powers had become unlimited, only that they had received knowledge beyond what they had been given before.”
“I think that she was implying it, master,” Kronk said slowly.
He was frowning in concentration as he spoke, feeling his way through his thoughts. Simon remained silent to give him a chance to express himself.
“I think, master, that perhaps Argentium is making a suggestion, without actually coming out and telling you directly.”
“What sort of suggestion?”
“I believe that he is suggesting that you take the battle to the necromancers before they can consolidate their powers and build their armies to overwhelming proportions. Master, I think that that is what Esmiralla's role was tonight; to show you what the enemy could do and how strong they could become if left unchecked.”
“I don't see it,” Aeris cut in. “I don't see it at all. Kronk, all that the silver dragon did tonight was show our wizard the strength of the opposition. How do you go from that to thinking that Argentium wants Simon to attack?”
The wizard listened closely. It was rare for Aeris to use his proper name and when he did, it was usually because what he was saying was important to him.
“Master, what happened to the undead when you destroyed that glyph?”
Simon smiled in satisfaction at the memory.
“They dropped; all of them. Even the ones who had already left the sea and were heading inland. Their bones fell apart, their remains disintegrated and all that was left was powder. I don't think that they can ever be summoned again.”
“There you go,” Kronk said to Aeris smugly.
“There I go? There I go what? What are you trying to say? That the walking dead collapsed when the spell was broken? Of course they did. That is how magic works, Kronk.”
Aeris was sounding increasingly irritated.
“Easy there,” Simon told him. “This is a discussion, not a debate. Hear him out, don't jump down his throat.”
The air elemental looked like he wanted to argue for a moment and then settled down and nodded.
“You're right. Sorry, Kronk. This whole thing is making me a little...cranky.”
“I hadn't noticed,” the earthen said with a smile.
Aeris laughed and motioned for the little guy to continue.
“What I was trying to say, master, is that you have been shown a solution, or at least a partial one, to your problem. Find the source of the magic that is being used to bind these undead to their masters, and sever it.”
“And how do we find all of the glyphs that are drawing the dead from their watery graves?” Aeris asked, obviously holding his objections in check.
Kronk only shrugged.
“How should I know? I am only an elemental. Master is the wizard. Perhaps he should consult with his mage friends in Nottinghill Castle? Or perhaps ask Argentium directly? But I think that this extends beyond those glyphs.”
“How so?” Simon asked.
“You have been shown the necromancers' weakness, master. Their spells have been given to them directly by the dark gods, but they must use a conduit to activate them. You saw the glyph tonight, yes, but you have also seen another source of their power.”
“I have?”
Simon frowned in thought as he tried to figure out what the little guy was getting at. He could just ask him, of course, but he wanted to discover the answer for himself.
And there it was, right in front of him. He remembered when they had spied on the necromancer in Ottawa and saw him drawing the undead from miles around up through that tunnel. What had been his conduit that time? Not a glyph, no. A crystal sphere.
“You're talking about the crystal ball, aren't you?”
“Yes master,” Kronk said with a satisfied smile. “You remembered. Yes, that magical ball was obviously being used to amplify the dark wizard's powers. I wondered at the time how he was able to raise so many dead at once, and from such a distance. Well, now we know. Like that glyph, it was a gift from the lords of Chaos. I believe that if you can smash those globes, and I think that each of those necromancers must have one, you can destroy their armies with one blow.”
“You think it will be that easy?” Aeris scoffed.
Kronk shook his head heavily.
“No, I think it will be that hard.”
An hour later, after he had gotten washed up and had a light meal, Simon was talking to a rather irritated, disheveled Tamara in his mirror. It was the middle of the night in England and he had woken her up from a sound sleep.
Her irritation vanished quickly as he filled her in on what had been happening.
“Undead sailors? Seriously? And how do we stop them?”
He explained that too and told her about the conduits that they believed the necromancers were using.
“Hang on,” Tamara told him as she rolled out of bed. “Give me a few minutes to get dressed and rouse Sebastian and the others. Everyone needs to hear this. I'll call you back.”
“Will do.”
Chapter 29
Tamara looked at the sleepy faces sitting around the table in the conference room. Sebastian was pouring tea for everyone while the cleric, Miriam, was passing around a tray of cakes.
The mage looked at each one in turn, measuring their strengths.
Sebastian was an open book to her, of course. Her brother was loyal, empathetic and stronger than he knew he was. He was the perfect foil for her sharp temper and occasional impetuousness. Not that she would ever tell him that, of
course. His weakness, if it could be called that, was his gentle nature.
Miriam was exactly as she appeared to be. Caring to a fault, a maternal figure for many of the castle's inhabitants, the cleric suited her role as healer perfectly.
The others were harder to read.
Malcolm and Aiden sat together as always. The two very large men were wearing simple tunics and trousers, having been roused from sleep. They normally stood the day shift.
Both were the strongest men that Tamara had ever met. Malcolm was over six and a half feet tall and his partner wasn't much smaller. Both had Changed into the perfect warriors, with skills in combat, tactics and the gods knew what else. They were fiercely loyal to their friends and a terror to their enemies. Both had also been infected with the lycanthropy disease, but it was kept in check by enchanted amulets that they wore around their necks and most people didn't even know about it. They preferred it that way.
The infection did have benefits though; they healed incredibly quickly and were immune to poison and disease.
Keiko. Tamara rested her chin on her hands and watched the Japanese woman as she hid her mouth in her hand, giggling at some joke that Miriam had just told her.
She was a mystery still. Quiet, unassuming, painfully shy, she was also probably more powerful than anyone Tamara knew except Simon O'Toole. But that power was hidden away inside a slight, tiny body. She was underestimated by almost everyone who met her.
Everyone but me perhaps, Tamara thought.
And then there was, of course, the Quartet, as they had come to be known by everyone in the castle.
Virginia, Anna, Eric and Gerard. Their names tripped off of the tongue like a chant because they were almost always mentioned together.
Theirs was a strange power. Separately their magic was weak and ineffective. But together? Oh my, Tamara thought. Together they were formidable indeed.
Virginia was a healer. Her powers rivaled those of Miriam, as long as the others were there with her. Anna, sweet little Anna, could cast an Invisibility spell over the group. As far as Tamara knew, she was the only Changling that could do that.
Tales from the New Earth: Volume Two Page 76