Rhune Shadow

by Vaughn Heppner

  No moon shined this deadly night. The stars hardly gave any illumination. In this part of Kroton, there was little to be seen of torchlight and even less of candle flame.

  Pirate-haunted Kroton on the eastern end of the Great Sea had little similarity to glorious Karchedon. The men here sailed small craft from the harbors, wretched pirates with long knives trying to eke out a pathetic existence. The city was more of a cliff with ledges for precariously built houses. A few questionable wizards lived here. A few down-at-the-mouth merchants occasionally put in at Kroton.

  The city was a slum spewed up from the sea, a home for the homeless and those too crabbed-hearted to realize what a cesspool it really was. Perhaps its greatest quality these days was that it was far away from Karchedon, far away from the killing horde riding along the southern shore of the Great Sea.

  Nine months ago, Elissa had fled by galley from doomed Karchedon. Nine months ago, the magistrate of the Sea Gate had brought her to a courier who had carried a letter sealed by the stamp of Sullo of Cyrene. That letter had been for Zarius Magonid. That letter had led her on this nine-month search for answers that had—

  “The bitch,” a man muttered from the street. “She’s been here. This is hers.”

  Elissa did not stir even though she recognized the voice. It belonged to one of Ert’s “vultures.” The man referred to her, of course. The hunters had found her again. She had left the sniffers a little something on the street, hoping they would give themselves away. They had not let her down this time. How good of them.

  “She doesn’t matter now,” another Nasamon said.

  Elissa’s eyes narrowed. She did not want to hear that. She knew why the hunter had said it, though. The indications…yes, they must realize—like her—that Sullo was still in brigand-cursed Kroton.

  Without consciously realizing she’d made the decision, Elissa slid off the wall, plunging thirty feet to the cobblestoned street below. She landed softly on her cat-soft boots, but not softly enough it seemed.

  “Behind you,” a hunter snarled. “She’s here.”

  Garments rustled. A man clicked a lever, opening the slot to a blackened lantern. Light spilled from it, light that illuminated Elissa and also showed the darkened outlines of four men behind the shining apparatus.

  As one, five blades leaped from their scabbards. Four of the blades were curved swords, scimitars; the last was a short black dagger of Cyrenean steel, one clutched in Elissa’s fist.

  Elissa lunged, sparks showering from the scimitar attempting to block her as her knife slid along the razor-sharp edge. The knifepoint entered the Nasamon’s neck. Elissa flicked her wrist, causing the blade to rip through his flesh.

  The lantern fell from his fingers, glass shattering and oil spilling onto the cobblestones. The flickering wick touched the oil, and it burst into smoky light.

  Elissa had already looked away even as she dove, tucked her right shoulder and rolled three times. As she stood and turned, the remaining nomads shouted in amazement, looking around as if she had disappeared.

  They were in the light now. They stood illuminated—

  “There,” one shouted, pointing his scimitar at her.

  Elissa’s other hand blurred. A black object spun in the darkness, and a strange metal star sprouted from his forehead. He staggered backward, dropping his scimitar so it clashed against the cobblestones.

  Elissa laughed.

  The last two nomads tightened their brown grips on their scimitar pommels. They charged while yipping a Nasamon war cry.

  Elissa maneuvered to the left of them just enough so the two warriors jostled each other as they turned to match her.

  At that point, a great gout of fire appeared from farther behind on the street. The fire grew as it billowed toward the two nomads and toward her.

  Elissa recognized the wizard’s garments before she realized a spell-caster stood with other Nasamons farther back. Short, wide-shouldered Ert was included among the filthy company.

  The ball of blazing fire struck the two hunters, and their garments and flesh ignited into flames. Immediately, the two howled with agony as heat billowed from them.

  A wizard, a fire-casting wizard no less—Elissa turned and ran.

  “Again!” Ert shouted at the wizard. “Use another fireball.”

  The wizard cursed as he assumed a new stance, his hands weaving another spell.

  Elissa gathered the strength of her spring-like thighs and leapt. She sheathed her dagger as she sailed upward, and both hands caught the lip of the wall. It wasn’t the thirty-foot firewall she’d plunged from, but a lower wall more easily reached.

  She swung her body like an ape, vaulting up and over—

  Something dark and hard swished past her head. It had to be another missile spell, she was sure of it. Fortunately, she had already begun to drop. It was time to get out of here. It was time to find Sullo before Ert and his pet wizard did. If she didn’t find Sullo this time, the last nine months of her life would have been sorely wasted. Even worse, she might never discover what Sullo had meant by telling her father by letter that, I’ve finally discovered the secret of Karchedon.

  -2-

  What did Elissa know concerning the elusive Sullo?

  She knew that Sullo was a scholar. She’d learned over the nine months that Himilco Nara and the Oracle wanted Sullo in Karchedon. She’d also learned that Sullo knew that evil people hunted him.

  The scholar had fled his native city of Cyrene. He’d traveled via ship away from the southern and western end of the Great Sea, always moving east and north.

  Sullo couldn’t flee any more eastern than Kroton. Well, and remain in the Great Sea region, that is.

  Elissa had recalled her father talking about Sullo a time or two. She hadn’t recalled anything about why. From her nine months of searching, she’d discovered that he was a historian. He studied the past, and he’d gone on expeditions into the Great Salt Desert to the south of Karchedon.

  Did Sullo know that Ert was in Kroton? Did Sullo know that Ert had enlisted the aid of a wizard? Surely, the scholar knew that the Nasamon Horde had reached and sacked Cyrene. Many of the former citizens of Cyrene were now, undoubtedly, part of the great skull pyramid growing in Karchedon.

  None of that mattered tonight, however.

  As Elissa ran through a dark alley, she had a feeling that Sullo wasn’t going to survive the night. Either she got to him before Ert and the wizard…or she might never learn the scholar’s great and dreadful secret.

  -3-

  The wind blew hard up here at the top of Kroton. There were palaces and temples perched on the height of the mountain city. Unsurprisingly, there were no homes on the mountainside opposite the sea, as it was even more sheer and cliff-like than the city ledges.

  As Elissa jogged past the palaces, she noticed their crumbling status. Kroton was an old city, a cursed city with a legend of inhuman habitation many eons ago. Elissa believed that she could feel the taint. It was an oily thing that touched the soul.

  Why would Sullo have fled here? Did Kroton hold old secrets?

  Elissa shook her head. She didn’t know, and in the end, it didn’t matter.

  Fortunately, she’d always possessed great stamina. It was part of her Rhune heritage. The run up the ledges had winded her, however, and the brief fight against the hunters had strained her resources.

  She glanced behind her. How far back were Ert and his vultures? Did the wizard slow them down or give them magical aid?

  Elissa bared her teeth and faced forward again. She did not need to check her carefully drawn map in order to see how much farther she had to go. She’d memorized the map—

  Elissa flung herself off the street behind a nearby wall.

  Metal clanked and light shined brightly from around a corner. Was the city guard approaching? That seemed preposterous, that there was a city guard in Kroton. Ah, maybe temple priests had paid for a watch up here.

  Elissa crouched low and brought up her cape
. She used it to help conceal her position in the darkness.

  Seconds later, guards in plate and mail and bearing spears tramped past. Several of them bore lanterns. They did not speak among themselves. That seemed strange…

  Elissa did not attempt to get a better look at them. She watched them, but out of the corner of her eyes. If she looked too closely, some of them might feel the scrutiny. She did strain to listen, though.

  The heavily armored guards continued their rounds, their boots crashing against the pavement. At no time did any of them say a word.

  As the sounds and the lantern light faded, Elissa rose, letting the cape swing behind her.

  That had been odd. Kroton was odd. She could feel the strangeness beat more strongly than before. Was there sorcery involved? Did this have anything to do with the inhuman inhabitants from ages past?

  Elissa worried her lower lip. What was she doing so far from Karchedon? Maybe she should have stayed with the others, accepted her fate, instead of indulging in this fruitless quest.

  She shook her head. Sullo, she must talk to Sullo before Ert reached the scholar. The letter—

  With a lurch, she began moving again.

  According to her latest information, gained from a heavily drinking rascal in a dockside tavern, Sullo stayed in an ancient tower that belonged to a fellow historian. The man of Kroton had ill-gained wealth. She had not learned how the man of Kroton had gained the wealth, just that it was tainted. Other than that, she simply knew that Sullo stayed with him.

  A feeling of desperation began to build. Something was off tonight. The guards should have spoken to each other. She should have risked a glance at them. Now that she thought about it, they had moved strangely, almost in a hypnotic manner. Had Ert’s wizard anything to do with that?

  Elissa put on a burst of speed, turned a palace corner and spied a dark tower ahead. She did not slow down, but increased speed.

  The tower was…five stories high. A wall surrounded it. She knew that guardians patrolled the garden surrounding the tower.

  Elissa gathered speed until she sprinted flat-out. The wall neared. She glanced back once more—she did not see a thing—and faced forward as she vaulted with all her strength.

  Like a great jungle cat, she sailed over the spear-points jutting up from the wall. She landed in a three-point stance upon gravel. A few stones stirred under her supple boots.

  Elissa held herself perfectly still as she listened for guardians. Yes, she heard a low growl. It sounded like a massive hound.

  That settled her nerves. She knew how to deal with hounds. She also knew that if she moved quietly enough, she might not have to deal with them.

  She moved across the gravel. There were bushes here and there, and spiked plinths. She neared one and noticed weird hieroglyphics along the edges. A strong odor warned her. She stopped.

  A huge hound with a blocky head peered through a bush several feet away. The beast sniffed the air. A moment later, it bulled through the bush, lifted a hind leg, urinated and trotted back around the bush.

  The beast hadn’t sniffed her scent. Even though it had been so close, Elissa had thought it wouldn’t, as she had masked her odor.

  She now headed in the other direction.

  Soon, she reached the base of the dark tower. At the bottom, it was composed of massive blocks of stone. She looked higher. A short distance up, the wall stones lessened in size.

  Well…no time like the present. She reached up, gripped the knotty stone and began to scale the tower, heading for the light at the top.

  Unbeknownst to her, several beasts in sphinx-like posture watched with burning dark eyes from nearby bushes. They watched for some time, finally cocking their heads as if hearing a soft noise.

  At that point, the beasts rose, loping toward the outer garden wall.

  -4-

  While clinging to the tower up near the wooden roof, Elissa peered through a window into a round room. Several oil lamps hung from the wooden-beamed ceiling. They illuminated shelf upon shelf of scrolls and leather-bound parchment-paged books.

  At the foot of one such shelf was a large ornate table, Eastern teakwood, she thought. Books and scrolls lay scattered in profusion upon it. At the edge of the table hunched a tall, stooped man in a blue robe. He had a ring of silver hair around a big bald spot. The man scratch-wrote on a scroll, every so often dipping an ostrich quill into an ink well.

  As Elissa observed him, the man set down the quill, straightened, adjusted his robes and turned around. He had a seamed leathery face, an old face worn by the years. He looked directly at the window, at her, it seemed.

  “Elissa Magonid, I presume,” he said. He had a cracked old voice that betrayed his age. He did not seem frightened.

  “Sullo of Cyrene?” she asked.

  “Of course,” he said. “Do come in. I would hate for you to fall and spoil everything at this point.”

  She realized this could be a trap. How had he known she was here?

  “I mean you no ill will,” he said, “I assure you.”

  The troubadour in her mind sneered at the assurances. They meant nothing to her. The fact he was so calm about her presence outside on his tower—

  Elissa swung in, landing on her feet.

  Sullo—if it indeed was him—nodded in approval.

  “Zarius’s young girl has grown up,” he said. “I saw you once when you were first born.” He peered at her more closely. “Yes. You resemble your mother.”

  A tug pulled at Elissa’s heart. Her mother—

  Savaging barking sounds drifted up from the gravel garden. Snarling and yipping, and human cries of pain sounded, as well.

  “No,” Sullo said in sudden despair. “They can’t have reached here so soon.”

  Elissa peered down through the window. Blazing light flared into existence. A ball of fire blazed into several huge hounds. The fire consumed the beasts. Men hurled darts at the remaining charging hounds.

  “Ert is here,” Elissa said.

  Sullo’s seamed old face had grown pale. Fear shined in his rheumy eyes.

  “I had hoped to explain everything,” he said. “Now, it is too late. I cannot let them capture me. I dare not tell them what I’ve learned.”

  “Tell me,” Elissa said. She’d closed the shutters to muffle the sounds of battle.

  Sullo studied her for a moment. Hope shined in his eyes. Then he squinted and shook his head. “No. They will surely capture you. I cannot tell you now, Zarius’s daughter. I had hoped—”

  “What is Karchedon’s terrible secret? Quick, you old fool, tell me while you can.”

  For another moment, something other than fear shined in Sullo’s eyes. He even smiled.

  “I hear your father in your voice and see him in your manner,” he said. The fear began to grow again. “I’d thought the guard could stop this Ert. But he has engaged a powerful wizard indeed. Neither my friend nor his beasts will be able to stop them. Soon, Ert and his wizard will be up here. You must be gone by then, Zarius’s daughter. I will kill myself, of course.”

  “Come with me,” Elissa said.

  “No. I am too old. And I am heartily sick of running.”

  Elissa glanced at the shuttered window. The last of the beasts must have died. She no longer heard them. She opened the window. Nasamons rushed toward the tower, presumably heading toward a door. How long would it take for Ert and his vultures to run up the tower stairs?

  “What is Karchedon’s secret?” Elissa said as she turned back to him.

  Sullo no longer looked at her. He threw papers from his desk and finally cried out. He picked up a pulsating gem. He weighed it in his hands as he turned to her.

  “I was going to crush this. I must set fire to these papers at once. Maybe the gem will help you. You must promise me that you will escape Kroton.”

  “Yes, yes, I promise.”

  “A real promise,” he said.

  “You’re wasting time.”

  He shook his head. “You�
��re the one wasting time.”

  “Yes, by the Land of Shadow and my hatred for Himilco Nara, I will escape this night and leave the city.”

  “Himilco is not the real villain, you know?”

  “Hurry!” Elissa cried. “What is the secret?”

  “Catch,” he said, pitching the gem.

  She caught it, slipping it into a hidden pocket.

  Sullo straightened as he said, “There are other worlds, Elissa Magonid. Demons can mean many things. One of the uses can mean traveler.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “There is something hidden in Karchedon. I believe it lived under the Temple Mount in secret tunnels. I think your father knew that at the end. I think the creature may have driven the Nasamon Prophetess somehow.”

  “A demon hid in Karchedon?” Elissa asked.

  “Or something worse than a demon,” Sullo said.

  “How did—”

  A boom sounded from lower down. That sound brought stark fear to Sullo’s face.

  “Go!” the old man cried. “I must start the fire before it is too late. I will not help the thing hidden in Karchedon. It must not learn what I know.”

  “But—”

  “Go!” he shouted in a commanding voice. “Go now, or you will never get away. I have given you the great hint. Now, you must use it, Elissa Magonid.”

  She stood in indecision, watching the old man grab a container. He hurled the contents at a shelf of books. It was oil. Sullo ran to another leather bucket of oil, flinging that on another shelf of books and scrolls.

  Elissa understood then. She wanted to tell him something stirring. It galled her to have searched for him for nine long months and to end the conversation so abruptly.

  She leaped to the window.

  “Wait,” she said. “How does the gem help me?”

  Sullo looked up as sweat dripped from his stark features. “What?” he asked.

  “How does the gem—?”