Spirit Past (Book 8)

by Jeff Inlo

  The casual manner in which the sorcerer described the affliction dismayed all those who heard the sorcerer's heartless tone, and the arrogance of Ansas' words angered the wizard who had managed to restrict the plague's advance.

  "How can you be so sure it's from a draevol?" Jure challenged. "With Reiculf able to reach out from Demonspawn, a spell of sickness could have come directly from him. If Scheff is out there, like you've claimed, he could have easily used the daokiln's power to cast a spell of plague on his own."

  Ansas cast a surprised look over to where the elder wizard stood.

  "You really don't believe that, do you?"

  "Do I think it's probable? No." Jure admitted. "It's only a possibility, but I don't think it's one that should be totally dismissed. And that's not the point. I just want to know how you can be so sure it's a draevol."

  "I can see the remnants of pure brown magic in the folds of their skin."

  "There's a flow of many types of magic," Jure countered. "I can sense them better than you. And that's exactly what I'm talking about. Reiculf's magic is colorless. Scheff could have used it and altered it into brown plague energy. There's no way to be sure."

  "You are only partially correct. Of course there are many flows. The elf spell caster utilizes violet magic and his energy is indeed evident. Scheff is using the swell of light winds to contain the plague to this section of the forest. Reiculf's magic is also surging through the elf, adding both raw power and extreme control to the spell."

  "Then how can you be sure the plague came from a draevol?"

  "Because brown magic doesn't simply fall from the sky," Ansas answered with belligerence. He believed the question was absurd as he described what, to him, was beyond obvious. "Before you question me further, remember that I have always appreciated the purity of magic. Draevols are demons, but they are also plague mages. They understand the strength in unspoiled energy. A sickness sprung from pure brown magic is far more potent than any affliction diluted by other hues. Draevols might dabble in fire or even ebony magic when a spell of alteration is needed, but when it comes to a plague, they isolate the dark brown magic to obtain full potency. To them, it is an art."

  "So you see brown magic and you assume it is a draevol?" Jure questioned. "I could adjust the hue of my magic and cast a plague spell of equal potency. Am I a draevol?"

  "No, but you cast in pure white magic. Certainly not a common attribute. And before you make a greater fool of yourself, consider how likely it is that a creature capable of casting in white magic would have joined with Reiculf at this very moment and decided to cast a plague spell on this elf camp. Please. Let's be serious. This is the work of a draevol."

  Believing he made his point, Ansas lost interest in examining the fallen elves and stalked over to the captain of the elf guard.

  "Have you been able to narrow down the possible location of any intruder?"

  Birk stared at the sorcerer with simmering contempt. He did not appreciate Ansas' tone, and he liked the circumstances of his arrival even less. The sorcerer had appeared at the center of the elf camp with Enin and others through a teleportation spell. Birk initially considered Enin and Holli's arrival a blessing, but it was Ansas who seemed to take control. To the elf captain, such authority in the hands of an adversary was unacceptable, and he would not offer assistance to a perceived foe. Thus, the elf captain said nothing.

  "Well?" Ansas pressed. "Are you just going to stand there and stare at me or are you going to answer my question?"

  "I consider you an enemy of this camp," the elf captain finally growled. "I will not reveal to you information involving the security of the elves."

  Ansas shrugged.

  "Fine, be a fool. You obviously haven't located the draevol, otherwise your wizard ally wouldn't be arguing about it. If need be, I'll find it myself."

  "You think I will allow you to walk about this camp as you please? As far as I am concerned, you are as likely to be behind this plague as Reiculf."

  "And do you think you could possibly stop me? I'll walk anywhere I wish."

  His patience reaching its limit, Birk was about to order his elf guards to take the sorcerer prisoner for past crimes against the elves when Enin intervened.

  "This can not continue!" the powerful wizard cautioned. "Birk, I understand your feelings toward Ansas, but you must put them aside. And Ansas, you need to realize we will not tolerate such conceit. Why can't you see that you are here to help save the land, not prove your own superiority?"

  "And why must you all be so pathetic?!" the sorcerer demanded. "I am tired of explaining myself over and over again, fighting against incompetence. At this point, I would almost prefer returning to Baannat."

  His own patience dwindling, Enin decided to make such a proposal a potential solution to the endless bickering.

  "I can accommodate you, if that is your wish," Enin warned. "I have been willing to overlook your past crimes because I believe you have insight into the foe we face, but if your arrogance becomes much more of a detriment, then your usefulness will have come to an end."

  Ansas was shocked and angered by the threat. He found the assertion preposterous and ungrateful.

  "My usefulness at an end? I have barely begun." The sorcerer clenched his fists angrily as he stared with contempt at the powerful wizard. "Where would you be now without me? You would have gone off and challenged the inferns around Connel, leaving yourself vulnerable to Reiculf. Your elf guard would have needlessly gone to Burbon to save a town that does not need saving. I have brought you here... here where we have an unequaled opportunity. I have put you in a position to weaken Reiculf, and you dare threaten me with Baannat?"

  "You speak as if you're blameless," Enin scolded the sorcerer. "I accept my mistakes in judgment, but you have done nothing but argue."

  Holli emphasized that point as she hoped to move forward. Time was drifting away from them, and she had not yet heard how Ansas hoped to strike at Reiculf.

  "Then let us end the arguing," Holli advised. She stepped forward and questioned the sorcerer directly. "You stated we have an opportunity... a chance to weaken Reiculf. Do you have a plan of attack?"

  Ansas glared one last time at Enin, but he would not allow frustration over incompetence to interfere with his plans. He did indeed have a plan of attack, and it was time for him to reveal the brilliance of his strategy. He actually smiled.

  "Give the daokiln exactly what he wants," the sorcerer stated, his face glowing with confidence, his competitive spirit rising at the chance to finally engage the demon lord.

  The response surprised the elf.

  "He wants the camp elder, or so you have claimed all this time," Holli noted with obvious reservations. "It has been your hope to deny Reiculf any prize. You have taken great pains to reduce the risk of the daokiln gaining any new prisoners that he might turn against us. Has this now changed?"

  "Risks must be managed," Ansas replied stoically. "They cannot, however, be completely eliminated. If utilized at the right time, they will bring the proper reward."

  "And what risk do you suggest we take here and now?" Shantree demanded, as she would not stand by and let others determine the fate of her camp.

  Though she understood Holli's concern, the assault remained centered upon the elves. Shantree was reminded of the cost each time she glanced at those suffering from the plague. If Ansas had plans which might affect her camp, she would have the final say, and no one else.

  "I am certain Scheff is behind this attack," Ansas declared. "He is directing the draevol. He is hoping to isolate you. We will convince him he has done just that."

  "How?"

  "By making it appear as if the rest of the camp has fallen to the sickness."

  "But they are now immune."

  "Yes, Jure's spell has been effective in countering the plague. It has given us the time we need, and I doubt the draevol is aware of the delay. Otherwise, the demon would have altered the plague, or Scheff would have devised a new a
ssault. I don't think he wishes to disappoint the daokiln again."

  "You believe the camp will eventually be attacked in a different manner?"

  "Do any of you pay attention to what I'm saying?" Ansas questioned. "Of course the attacks will continue. Reiculf is not going away. He wants you, and he will never give up. Through you, he can extend the reach of his power. You face jeopardy as long as you're alive."

  As long as you're alive.

  As Shantree stared into the face of the sorcerer, the significance of his assertion ruled the elder's mind. The full weight of the revelation hit her as if a shag had jumped out of the forest and onto her back. She knew that Ansas spoke the truth, and that truth became nothing less than her death sentence. As long as she lived, Reiculf would strive to capture her essence, force her to become an unwilling servant.

  It was no small matter, no minor inconvenience. She wasn't being pursued by some ordinary dark creature. There was no shadow of a hook hawk soaring in the clouds or the snarl of a goblin hiding in the brush. Even the most vicious river rogue could be handled over time.

  But Reiculf?

  Reiculf was beyond time. If the daokiln had discovered a way to reach beyond Demonspawn, a prospect which had become undeniable, then Shantree would be hunted constantly; not for a day, or a season, or even many cycles of the season, but for as long as she lived.

  Every instant she drew a breath, her camp was in danger. She had become worse than the plague which devastated her followers. Disaster would follow her every step, and suffering would come to all those in her wake.

  To save the camp from such misfortune, she would have commanded an elf guard to end her life, but even that shred of hope was pulled from her fingers. She knew that any such order would throw the elves into complete disarray. The elder was to be protected. They would sacrifice their own lives before allowing harm to come to her, and thus, she could not escape her fate.

  As if all emotion drained from her spirit, she handed over her destiny to the sorcerer who was as much responsible for her wretched condition as Reiculf himself.

  "What would you have me do?" the elder asked almost meekly.

  Ansas found the sudden submissive acceptance to his authority refreshing.

  "First, we must convince Scheff and the draevol that their plague has succeeded in decimating your followers. I will cast a spell of alteration that will make it appear as if the elves currently protected by Jure's spell have contracted the disease. They will fall to the ground, stiff as wood, covered in sores, but they will not have the actual sickness."

  Before anyone could voice the opposition he knew was rising, Ansas offered a surprising consolation.

  "The elves will not suffer in any fashion. They will not feel anything. I will place them all in a state of suspension. When the spell is lifted, every elf will be just as they are now."

  "But what of me?" Shantree requested passively. "What must I do?"

  "As Jure has indicated, the plague was never meant to harm you. You will be left alone... well, almost alone. You will remain in the center of this camp protected by Jure. You will make it appear as if you are tending to the sickened elves."

  "How can you possibly hope to pull off such a deception? "Jure interrupted. "Won't Scheff have already placed a sight spell upon the camp? Isn't it possible he already knows you're here?"

  "Do you think I am that foolish?" Ansas snarled. "I instructed Enin to place a curtain around us before he teleported us here. We are invisible to them, even to Reiculf, but you are not. To Scheff, this discussion will appear as if you are conversing with the elf elder and the elf captain, and that is exactly what I want. When the remaining elves appear to fall to the plague, you will stand alone with Shantree."

  Birk could hold his tongue no longer.

  "No! I will not allow the camp elder to be placed in such jeopardy... to be used as bait."

  "Very well," Ansas replied almost all too readily, and then sarcastically offered the obvious alternative, "then I will leave her here under your protection. Certainly she will be safe in the center of an elf camp which has already suffered losses to a third of its strength. Having her with the strongest spell casters in all of Uton would be so much more dangerous. I will allow you to protect her against Reiculf."

  Ansas paused. He wanted the elf captain to consider the full weight of his offer. The elves would be no match for the daokiln, and they all knew it.

  "I do not have to waste time here," the sorcerer finally continued. "My goal is to remove one of Reiculf's servants... any one of the three. There is probably still time to isolate the serp. Macheve is most likely at the eastern outskirts of Dark Spruce, controlling the undead as they attack Burbon."

  Shantree knew the sorcerer was bluffing, but she announced the choice from which she could not hide.

  "No, we will do as you ask. All of us. It is not up for debate."

  "You can not put yourself in such danger!" Birk objected.

  "Very well, then I will renounce my position as elder and resign into the forest."

  "I can't let you do that," Enin intervened. "You would be too vulnerable, and we can't afford to lose you to Reiculf."

  Shantree looked to Birk.

  "Then the only alternative is to stay here and fight. We will have to follow the sorcerer's plan."

  "And we must do so quickly now," Ansas stated as if there would be no further argument. "Inform your elves of the spell I will cast."

  Birk stormed off, but followed the sorcerer's instructions.

  "The rest of us must be ready to strike, including you," Ansas announced as he pointed to Haven Wellseed.

  "But won't I fall to your spell?" the elf spell caster asked.

  "No, I have need of you. Come with me."

  Chapter 17

  "Are you going to teleport me away again?" Scheff challenged the human wizard.

  "I think we both know that won't work twice," Jure responded.

  "Then why don't you just leave? You do not have the power to stop me."

  "I didn't think I had the power to stop you last time, but I did. You weren't even alone. You were with the serp. I still stopped you. Maybe I can't teleport you out of here, but what makes you think I won't find another way to keep you from getting what you want?"

  "Because I will not be so careless this time."

  Jure gritted his teeth. He was not happy about what he would say next, but he was instructed to do so. It was part of the plan, a plan Shantree herself accepted, and the elf elder had demanded he hold to the strategy. Though the wizard found little pride in hiding behind another, he had to make it clear to Scheff that recklessly releasing Reiculf's power would be disastrous.

  "You'll still have to be careful though, won't you?" Jure warned. "You could destroy me with any number of spells, but you can't afford to hurt the elder. That would most certainly upset your master."

  Scheff glared at the human wizard. The maneuver was unexpected, and he voiced his surprise.

  "You would use the one you wish to protect as a shield?"

  "Shield? No. Let's call it an obstacle. If I was standing out in the open, you'd probably just fry me with a lightning strike, but you can't take that risk if I'm standing this close to Shantree. You might be very accurate with your spells, but all I have to do is deflect part of an attack. If the elder is injured, or worse, you might have to deal with a very unhappy daokiln."

  "Then maybe you need to stand somewhere else!"

  Scheff lifted his hands and three rings of distorted, colorless power encircled his arms. He stared deeply into Jure's chest as he reached out with the energy, hoping to take hold of the human spell caster with a grip of magical will. If Jure would not move of his own accord, then Scheff would force him away from the elf elder.

  Jure cast a spell of his own. The single circle of white magic appeared meek in comparison to Scheff's display of power, but it quickly grew into a blazing ring of pure defiance. The circular wall of magic worked furiously to block out the
invading spell in hopes of keeping both the elf leader and the wizard safe from Scheff's hold.

  A battle of both will and power clashed across the center of the elf camp. The colorless energy of the demon master tore at the white magic. Scheff's spell bore deep into the pale circle. It began to rip holes in the barrier, and small streams of distorted energy flowed furiously into each gap.

  Despite the breaches, the white magic continued to pulsate. Rather than yield to the overwhelming assault, the shield grew stronger, and every hole was quickly plugged before any substantial portion of Scheff's magic could achieve its desired result.

  Away from the clearing and deeper in the woods to the south, Enin concentrated on his spell of expansion. He pressed his magic into Jure's defenses and enhanced the strength of the shield. He hid his spell in the folds of Jure's casting, ensuring that there was no visible link, but he placed no other limits on his energy. He would allow Jure to take everything and anything he needed. It was sufficient to deflect the elf's attack.

  The disruption of his spell caused Scheff to end his attempt. For the second time, the human wizard had overcome the power that was within the him. It should have never been possible, and yet, the human continued to defy him. He looked upon Jure with confusion.

  Jure fed that uncertainty.

  "You think Reiculf's energy should make you unstoppable, but it's just not working out for you. You've now failed on two occasions to take Shantree from me. I've been told that the past is very important to the daokiln. He feeds upon history. You know that to be true, don't you? And now your history is one of failure. He's not going to be pleased with you... not at all."

  Scheff would not answer. He cared little for Jure's assessment. He struggled with greater concerns. The elf faced a conflict within his own essence. Scheff almost called out to Reiculf himself, sought council with the demon master, but he resisted on different stages of consciousness.

  On the most basic level, he was afraid... afraid to admit defeat and ask for assistance from a creature that believed benevolence was an act of weakness. Scheff knew the daokiln would not simply come to his rescue. The elf magic caster had access to the demon's magic, and Reiculf expected Scheff to succeed.