by C. M. Gray
Pardigan jumped up, only just managing to avoid being crushed in the rush for the door as everyone hurried to leave. Apparently it wasn't a good idea to hang around once the Emperor had called an end to proceedings. Backing between two pillars, Pardigan soon found out why as the Emperor reached out a hand sending a crackling red bolt of energy to single out the courtier who, until then, had been so delighted to have been dismissed from his babbling. Letting out a fear filled shriek the man was plucked from the now panicking crowd, lifted above their heads and drawn towards the now grinning Emperor. Pardigan couldn't tear his eyes away as the man thrashed about in agony, gripped by the hold of the spitting, crackling energy, his body blurring as if it were being shaken and then he dropped heavily to the floor, like a sackful of apples, leaving the ghostly shape of his soul to continue convulsing, screaming as it was forced towards the black pulsing crystal. As it touched, Pardigan watched in horror as the crystal slowly sucked the struggling soul into its depths, the soul's shrill inhuman scream cutting off to an abrupt and stunning silence.
The Emperor glanced around the now empty chamber and then slumped, clearly exhausted, a sheen of sweat glistening in the flickering lamplight. Shuffling the few steps it took to reach the crystal, he placed his hands against the smooth sides and sighed in apparent relief as energy coursed through the blackness in a storm crackling streaks, the face of the courtier flashing across the surface reflecting an unending agony now shared with the countless others that fought to reach the surface of their prison beside him. Faces screamed and pleaded, calling silently while fingers and hands scratched ineffectually at the inner surface. The Emperor appeared to drink it all in, his body swelling, standing more upright as strength returned to him and he let out a cry of satisfaction, 'Aaaaaghhhhh,' the face that turned in Pardigan's direction, held a maniacal look of ecstasy, the eyes burning the deep crimson red of Chaos.
Barely able to control the need to flee, Pardigan edged towards the door, stumbling in his haste, his heart beating so loud in his ears and against his chest that he feared the Emperor might somehow hear it and stop him. Without waiting for someone to hide behind, he threw the door open and ran, jumped over a low wall and scrambled hastily into some bushes. Once sure he hadn't been observed, he wrapped his arms about his knees and rocked back and forth shuddering. After a while, he relaxed the invisibility spell and tried to get his breathing under control. It's that crystal thing, that's where he gets his power, he thought. Oh Source… it's full of people… souls. He's going to try and put us all in there, he even puts his own people in there… Oh, Source, it's horrible…!.
Some time later, he forced himself to leave the sanctuary of the bushes and step into the cool water of the pond and then slowly began wading across towards the skull. It wasn't deep, it came to just over his knees, but he didn't want to make a noise or disturb the lily pads in case anyone was looking, so he went bit by bit, feeling the mud squishing between his toes. The thought of getting caught scared him more than it had ever done before. If they discovered him in the palace he could surely get away, but the chance of returning through the doorway to Dhurban and his friends would be next to zero - he would be stranded this side of the door. Halfway across he was doing okay, but then it occurred to him that the coloured fish he could see darting about might possibly be meat eaters. He let out a little involuntary whine and offered up a prayer to the Source to see him safely back through the portal with the skull to his friends.
* * *
Rising to the highest altitude he could tolerate, a suitable wind had finally been found, but it was desperately cold. Magician Falk wrapped his cloak about him and tried to conjure a bubble of air to warm, but his fingers wouldn't respond, and his teeth were chattering so much that uttering the simplest of spells was proving to be impossible. It seemed the height had put off the dragon, and it had disappeared back towards the city, but he knew it would be back, especially if he descended, which he would surely have to do soon. Right now he was waiting for the next change in wind direction so that he could drop to the mountains and join the Royal troops, as long as he didn't freeze to death first that is.
He peered over the side at the desert and distant city so very far below, and uttered a curse. He was clearly still travelling in circles and appeared to be heading out into the desert again. He couldn't go up any higher, so reaching up he toggled the lever to vent some of the warm air and felt the balloon lurch and descend, rather too rapidly as his stomach attested. Regaining his feet he twisted another lever and a burst of flame leapt out of the central canister halting the descent, but it was too much, it knocked the Magician off his feet once more and he scrabbled about in alarm as the balloon shot up into the cold blue sky.
It took some time, but he finally managed to turn the burner off. Now colder than ever, he leaned over the side and sighed, he was ridiculously high, but at least his direction had changed, the mountains were getting closer again. A small blue speck far below caught his eye and after a moment's consideration he sighed, the dragon was rising, coming up again to pay him a visit. All in all, the romance and excitement of ballooning was wearing very thin for Magician Falk and he was ready to walk with his fellow man on the ground. Either that, freeze to death or end up as a dragon's dinner he thought wistfully.
* * *
The grey cat sat in a patch of warm sunlight watching the circling blue and yellow butterflies with studied interest, her tail flicked gently as her head moved from one fluttering creature to the next. Her paw occasionally reached out in a half-hearted attempt at swatting them.
'Mahra?'
The cat glanced about then stood up and stretched, her claws extending and retracting as she did so. Resuming her seated position, she began swatting at the butterflies again.
'Mahra, is that you? How did you get here?'
'I'm not going to talk to you when you're invisible Pardigan, I can sort of see you… did you know cats can sort of see you?'
'Shhh, keep your voice down. If someone hears us we're going to be in big trouble. Yes, I know cats can see me, so can elephants and priests of Chaos. It's becoming less and less of an advantage. We have to get back through that door.'
'But it's nice here, I like it.' A butterfly came close and her head moved, following the erratic flight until the tiny creature landed on the tip of her nose, opening and closing its wings. The cat's eyes slowly crossed studying it. 'What's an elephant?' she purred softly.
'It's what they call that big animal with the long nose. Look, Mahra, I'm getting out of here. This place is nasty, its evil and I want to get back to that nice safe battle the other side of the door.'
The butterfly took to the air again, and Mahra turned to regard the now visible Pardigan as he crouched at the base of the wall pulling his boots on.
'You seem a little upset? Oh, you found the skull, good boy.'
'The Emperor is going to join his army at sunset, and he said he was going to break the city's shield. We have to get back and warn them. Mahra, I'm serious, he has a big black crystal, and it's full of people's souls. I saw him drag some poor man into it… it was hideous. It's where he gets his magic. I don't know what we're going to do, but we have to get back to the others… come on.' Pardigan disappeared and Mahra jumped down from her perch on the wall and followed the ghostly shape of her friend.
Stepping back through the doorway was a shock to the senses. The heat of the late afternoon desert was the first blow, hitting them like a thump between the eyes, and then came the unsteady motion of being perched high on the elephant's back as it rocked from side to side shuffling its feet. As they hurried to descend the stairs, the sickening roar of battle was loud in their ears.
'I'm going to place-shift into the city and warn them,' yelled Pardigan over the noise. 'Can you get in somehow?'
'Oh, don't worry about me; I'll meet you there. I'm going to see what's happening from above, get a better idea of things before coming back. Go on, go!' Without waiting, the cat jumped from th
e staircase and transformed into the snowy white owl, soaring over the heads of those below that were so intent upon killing each other, screaming their hatred, caught in the lust of battle and death - the owl was ignored by all as the battle raged.
Warm air was still rising from the hot sand of the desert, so Mahra was able to gain height quickly and was soon spiralling high on the thermals looking down on the mighty city of Dhurban, still safe for now behind its wall and shimmering shield. Surrounding it was the invading army, the heaviest concentration of men and fiercest fighting congesting around the main gates, which is where she knew Quint would be. He must be one of those tiny specs amid the smoke, arrows and death she thought.
Looking to the west, she could see the great blue and yellow dragon. It appeared to be attacking a big floating bubble of some kind. She watched for a few moments as it swooped in, claws extended breathing great gouts of flame, which enveloped the strange object. It was a weird looking thing; maybe the Magicians had sent it up to distract the dragon away from the city. Feathers fluttering in the warm air current, she continued her turn east towards the mountains and saw that the troops of the Realm had finally arrived. They were forming into ranks ready for their march across the last expanse of desert and didn't look to be making camp. If they marched all night they would join the battle by morning, this was good news. She flew for some time until the sun started to set, and a cooler current of air ruffled her feathers. Dipping a wing, she turned back to the city and made ready to find her way in.
She closed the distance quickly and approached the main gates of the city where the huge elephant still stood carrying the strange wooden palace on its back, she felt sorry for the poor thing. It was swinging its long nose and flapping its ears, obviously agitated. Around it, hundreds of drummers were forming up, beating out a steady rhythm and soldiers were lighting fires to illuminate the battle once the sunlight had faded - darkness obviously wouldn't bring respite for either side. As Mahra swooped down intent upon finding the small weakness into the city shield that they had used when first arriving, she noticed a gathering of higher-ranking soldiers around the elephant. The drummers pounding rhythm intensifying with many of the soldiers joining in, clashing their swords on their shields. More soldiers were running over to join the gathering; something different was taking place. She noticed others working in pairs to bring out long curved horns that once in place, joined the drumming to send long moaning calls out across the battle, the city and the desert sands beyond.
Circling now to study these new events, soaring just above arrow range, Mahra watched as the unmistakable figure of the Emperor, Djinn Tsai, emerged from the doorway at the rear of the palace and slowly descended. Behind him, retainers supported something that she realised must be the huge black crystal that Pardigan had described. They were carrying it with great care, navigating the staircase cautiously, in obvious fear of spilling it. Realising that everything Pardigan had warned about was going to come true, Mahra dived down, gliding just above the heads of the waiting warriors and tapped the crystal as she passed, feeling it rock beginning to tip over, then she flew on towards the narrow gap in the shield and readied herself to enter, now eager to get the unpleasant affects over with, her heart pounding with the urgent need to get back to her friends. The Emperor had arrived at the battle, which meant something was about to happen, and if Pardigan was right, it wasn't going to be good.
* * *
Chapter 25
A Storm in the Sand
The Emperor, Djinn Tsai, slowly descended the wooden staircase and gazed across at the setting sun. The base of the shimmering red disc had just touched the horizon and was beginning to dip below the shadowed dunes of the desert, the heat haze of the desert make it shimmer and dance. He stopped, his head tilting to one side. The disappearance of the star was a sight that he was aware held fascination for many humans, but it was a spectacle he had witnessed far too often, in fact, countless millions of times, and it now held little interest for him beyond marking the passing of yet another day. However, he had to concede that, from here in the desert, it was a rather pleasing shade of red.
Taking another step, his attention turned upon the sea of bowed heads and humped backs as his people grovelled before him in the dust, how pitiful they were. He snorted in disgust and turned towards the city wall where, thankfully, the fighting was still bloody and brutal. Drawing a deep breath he sighed with pleasure, savouring the sharp feel of each new death, the countless moments of suffering and drawn out agony being played out before him. To the Djinn, it mattered not if it was his own soldiers or the Dhurbar warriors as blows were traded, mortal wounds inflicted and men and women died - it was the way it should be and most satisfying. At last his attention moved upward, above the battle where the air was thick with souls, it was their presence that he could feel most keenly of all.
A soul upon death, will not go far from the fallen body, they remain close. The confusion and anguish of each and every disconnected life force was so delicious that it almost made the Emperor's mouth water, almost. Breathing deeply once again, he smiled and stilled the desire to reach out and begin gathering them quickly, like some greedy human snatching food from the feasting table. No, he preferred instead to take his time and savour the moment, denying himself the pleasure, delighting in the anticipation of when all that power and energy would be harvested and captured so that the crystal would slowly begin to swell, and saturate his entire being in an orgy of energy that would leave him breathless in ecstasy and feeling so, so alive.
As his feet left the bottom step of the stairs and touched down upon the desert sand, a single loud drumbeat signalled to his grovelling subjects that they could rise. The droning calls of the horns resumed along with the heavy beating of drums and then the high ululating cries of the wraiths rent the air. Emboldened by his presence more of his soldiers ran towards the battle, screaming their war cries and hatred of their enemy, eager to lay down their lives upon the walls of Dhurban for their Emperor. He watched them and smiled… they were all so ready to oblige him.
Something flitted past overhead, a fast silent shadow he glanced up and frowned. The sound of a foot scraping on the stairs caused him to glance back, momentarily concerned for the safety of the crystal as he watched the bearers struggle under its weight, they were swaying, and the crystal was rocking, but they had control of it and were waiting for him to move on. To break the city's shield, and of course to gather the souls the crystal needed to be this side of the portal, a regrettable but necessary risk. Realisation dawned upon him that its exposure to the battle had momentarily filled him with an unaccustomed emotion… fear. He studied it, tasted the emotion, glanced at the crystal once more, and then moved on. There was nothing else for it, the crystal was well guarded, needed to be here, and the bearers had regained their balance. He returned his mind to the task at hand
Ignoring the fawning courtiers, soldiers and retainers, he walked slowly forward, the throng of people parting in front of him. Picking his way through the debris of discarded weapons, spent arrows and dead, he came to stand in front of the great elephant, to the same spot where he had conjured the great blue and yellow Drac-Au-Shun the previous day.
Drawing a last full breath, he began to gather his will, reaching out to focus and then draw upon the crystal's energy. The link formed and once more they became as one. Power began to flood through him, saturating him, filling him in such a way as nothing else ever could. Raising his arms slowly above his head, he began the process of weaving threads of red Chaos, the crackling whips of energy lashing out from his fingers and attaching to one soul after another, capturing them unawares as they grieved the death of their mortal bodies. Once singled out and harnessed, the souls writhed helplessly and screamed, caught like fish on hissing red lines, their cries rising higher, becoming more desperate as they were dragged away from their earthly remains towards the steadily pulsing crystal. Most upon the field of battle could neither see nor hear the souls anguish;
in fact, most remained ignorant of the souls' existence and were unaware of the reason behind the Emperor's display. Arms whirling as he directed and controlled the energy, the Emperor, Djinn Tsai, wove his web of power snatching more and more souls, dragging them, forcing them wailing, pleading and struggling towards the crystal. For any that could hear it, the air was filled with the souls' raucous anguish. When the first of his captures reached the crystal, they were slowly absorbed… eaten, each soul distorted and stretched as it struggled and fought against the terror of what was happening to it. Eyes now glowing as red as the streaks of energy that he wielded, the Emperor, Djinn Tsai's, own cry rose to join the sounds of battle, yet the Djinn's voice did not cry out in pain, it cried out in pure, ecstatic joy.
'What is he doing?' Pardigan came up alongside Quint and leaned on the parapet. The fighting in this section had died down, both sides had retreated, distracted by the incredible display being played out in front of them. Upon the wall, the Sultan's Magicians were using the lull in the battle to work their spells, replacing crystals and repainting their wardings and symbols to renew the defensive shield in anticipation of whatever the Emperor might be about to throw at them.
The boys stood back as the hunched figure of a Magician rudely pushed past, and then stopped to mumble a spell and scratch fresh symbols onto the stonework with a long curved dagger that pulsed with the blue energy of Order - the old man's thick white beard bobbing up and down as he muttered, working the incantation.
'What have you done with the skull,' asked Quint, placing an arm about his friend's shoulders, both as a sign of affection for his friend whom he was happy to have back, but it was also to support his tired body, Quint had been fighting for most of the day and was quite ready to drop.