Wrath of a Mad God

by Raymond E. Feist

  Tomas returned with Miranda. “If we’re to find where Jim Dasher went, we should leave now.”

  Kaspar shouldered a bow he had been using since Castdanur had let them hunt and said, “With you two”—he indicated Miranda and Tomas—“along I doubt I’ll need this, but I find it reassuring to have some sort of weapon.”

  Jommy just patted the hilt of a large hunting knife at his belt as if to echo Kaspar’s sentiment.

  Tomas waved a farewell to Ryath who, with a snap of its massive wings loud enough to sound like thunder, took to the sky. The elves watched silently as the massive creature vanished into the heavens.

  They trotted out of the gate and followed the main trail to the southwest, then turned north, following a game path where obvious footprints had been left in the east. A quarter of a mile up the trail, Tomas pointed to a broken branch, still green and dripping sap. “He’s making it easy.”

  Kaspar said, “Knowing Jim Dasher, he’s doing it intentionally.”

  As the afternoon lengthened, they moved purposefully up the trail and after traveling for two hours they found another broken branch indicating that Jim had turned northeast, climb-2 1 0

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  ing toward a gap in the ridgeline above. As they reached the lower lip of a plateau, they could see a figure kneeling behind sheltering rocks, observing something on the other side.

  Crouching low, the four approached until Kaspar stood at Jim’s shoulder. Quietly, Jim Dasher said, “What took you so long?”

  “Social niceties,” said Kaspar.

  Tomas slowly drew his sword. “Where are they?”

  “Just over this rise,” said Jim. “They appear to be resting.

  From what I’ve seen, they are most active at sundown, then are awake all night.” He glanced at the sun, low in the western sky.

  “They’ll start whatever they’re going to do, hunt or feast, in about an hour.”

  “Castdanur says these wolf-riders suck life from bodies.”

  “Eat them, too, from what I saw,” whispered Jim.

  Tomas inched past Jim. Then the other four saw him rise up without hesitation and charge. “Stay here!” he shouted.

  “Well,” said Jim, “I guess that means the sneaky quiet part is over.”

  Miranda hurried past the three men. Jim looked at Jommy and Kaspar and said, “I guess that means the ‘stay here’ part of things is over, too.” He stood up, drew his two belt knives, and started after Miranda.

  Kaspar reached out, grabbed Jim Dasher by the collar, and pulled him backward, almost yanking him off his feet.

  “What?”

  “I don’t worry about her,” Kaspar said. “But when a man who can command dragons tells me to wait, I’m inclined to wait.”

  Jim looked at Jommy, whose expression indicated that he couldn’t believe Jim had even thought about going up there after Tomas had told him to wait.

  Tomas strode into the clearing and saw the first creature. It was one of the large “wolves” lying across the threshold of a hut and as soon as it saw Tomas it leaped to its feet, took a bounding jump and with a ghostly howl attacked him. Tomas’s golden blade arced through the air and when it struck the creature there was an explosion of sparks, energy so bright that Jim, Kaspar, 2 1 1

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  and Jommy were forced to look away. A smoking gash where the blade struck erupted into tiny flames of silver and the creature staggered, then fell over on its side. With a gasp it went limp, then suddenly its entire form was engulfed in silver flames.

  The commotion caused the humanlike “riders,” and their creatures to erupt from the huts. Tomas lay about him with his sword, his speed and power astonishing. Miranda stood with hands outstretched and lances of dazzling blue energy skewered any creature that attacked her. Where her spells struck, the creatures were thrown backward, crashing into the huts or sliding across the ground.

  The howl of rage and pain was the strangest sound any of the three onlookers had ever heard, a distant empty hooting and grunting that echoed as if from the depths of some distant canyon.

  Miranda changed her attack and a booming sphere of white light exploded from around her. It passed through Tomas with apparently no ill effect, but when it struck any of the dark and smoky forms, they fell writhing and their echoing cries grew louder.

  Tomas moved with stunning speed, wheeling his sword to left and right, and each time he struck a creature fell. With no defense due to Miranda’s spell, the remaining creatures fell to him as if he were a farmer scything down wheat.

  He moved to the stone cage where the Void-darters were thrashing around, trying to batter their way to freedom. “Miranda, can you destroy those things without opening the door?”

  “What kills them?”

  He held out his blade. “This contains magic which was ancient before man came to this world. As long as I have held it, I do not know exactly what went into its fashioning. But those things are feeders on life and so is this blade.”

  Miranda said, “I think I know something I can try.” She waved her hands in a quick, intricate pattern, and a pulsing globe of purple light sprang into being before her. With a wave of her hand she sent it crashing into the cage and as soon as it touched the creatures they began to thrash about even more violently.

  Still they did not die.

  Miranda tried another approach and a wash of fire appeared 2 1 2

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  from the palms of her outstretched hands. The flames burned bright orange and when they struck, the creatures seemed to go rigid and fall to the ground. Tomas instantly threw up the latch, opened the door, and was in the cage slashing with his sword until every darter was nothing more than smoking black char.

  Miranda said, “Those things are very hard to kill.”

  Jommy, Kaspar, and Jim came to stand next to Tomas. Kaspar had been given a vision of the Dasati world by the god Kalkin and had been the one to carry the warning of the Dasati incursion into Midkemia to the Conclave, but even he had never seen their like before. He said as much. “Are they some sort of Dasati I don’t recognize?”

  Miranda said, “They’re nothing like the Deathpriests.”

  Tomas looked grim. “They are not of the Dasati.” He looked deeply troubled. “They are worse, far worse.”

  Jim looked at Kaspar and Jommy. “Worse?”

  “There is a crack in the face of reality, a tear in the universe, and what you see here is seepage from the Void. That is why the huts and fire are so alien. This place is now an anchor for that rift. More of those things can find their way here unless we—”

  He looked completely around, and then asked Miranda, “Can you destroy everything here?”

  “Everything?” she asked.

  “To the soil beneath our feet, to a depth of ”—he calculated—

  “twenty feet. Everything. There must be nothing but a large hole in the ground here when you’ve finished.”

  Moving away from the center of the village, Miranda said,

  “Blowing things up was more Magnus’s predilection when he was young, but if you just want things destroyed, I can do it.” To the four men she said, “You’d better move down the trail.”

  They did as she requested and after a moment they saw her climb onto a low boulder, affording her a view of the village. She began a long and complicated enchantment and suddenly the ground beneath their feet shook and the trees nearby swayed. It felt as if a massive earthquake had been unleashed.

  But rather than rolling, it became a series of sharp shifts, as if someone were shaking the ground by hand in staccato jerks.

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  Then a low sound, not the usual rumbling of an earthquake but rather a deep, grinding howl, started and grew in intensity.

  When it reached a volume that caused Jommy, Kaspar, and Jim to cover their ears, a deafening eruption blew a massive tower of earth, rock, and trees into the sky. It was as if a pa
ir of vast, invisible hands had scooped up the soil beneath the village and everything on it, ground it all into dust and rocks and tossed the mass high into the sky.

  Miranda hurried down to the four men and said, “We should get down the trail quickly. It’s about to start raining rocks.”

  The five of them ran down the trail, and as she had predicted, a pelting fall of stones and soil began to rain over them.

  Fortunately, they were near the edge of it when it began and quickly left the cascade of earth and rocks behind them.

  Tomas said, “Without any aspect of their realm here, it may take them some time to rediscover a way back here.”

  “Who?” asked Miranda. “What were those creatures?”

  Tomas halted. “Whatever else may be occurring with your mad magician,” he said to Miranda, “or with the coming war with the Dasati,” he said to everyone, “nothing is as dangerous as what we have just encountered.”

  “What were those creatures?” Miranda repeated, this time her tone more emphatic.

  “Children of the Void. When Jim first told me of them, I did not realize what manner of creature was here. I thought a lesser specter or a wraith, perhaps even a lesser manifestation of the dark agents. But those beings were Dreadlings, minor Dread, but Dread nevertheless. The things they ride have no name I know, though the Valheru called them ‘dreadmounts.’ The flying creatures are also nameless, but like hawks and falcons, they are rap-tors who flush ‘game’ for the Dread.”

  “The elves called them Void-darters,” said Kaspar.

  “As good a name as any,” said Tomas. “They are dangerous, but nothing like those they serve, the Dread.”

  “What are the Dread?” asked Jommy as Tomas turned and ran down the hillside.

  “Beings so alien they make the Dasati seem like brothers to 2 1 4

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  humanity. They are drinkers of life and stealers of souls, and they have somehow found their way into our realm.”

  Hurrying to keep up with the human-turned–Dragon Lord, Kaspar shouted, “Could this be part of the Dasati plot?”

  “No!” answered Tomas emphatically. “This is something far more dire.” He stopped and turned to Miranda. “Whoever you have whom you trust, magician or priest, call a convocation of the most powerful, and I will come to you in three days. I must return to Elvandar and speak with the oldest spellweavers and lorekeepers. Castdanur had no idea who these creatures were and that shows how far the anoredhel have fallen. They have elders, but no lorekeepers.” He shook his head in frustration. “I must also speak with the Quor.”

  “Who are the Quor?” demanded Kaspar and Miranda at almost the same instant.

  Tomas kept walking as he spoke. “They are the heart of Midkemia, beings ancient and benign. Even the Valheru left them untroubled, for they knew the Quor were linked inexplicably to the very center of all life here. Should they perish, it is said in legend that the world would perish with them.”

  They stopped and looked at one another.

  “Those creatures we just destroyed are . . . youngsters. They were no more than children out on a picnic, playing,” Tomas continued.

  Miranda’s face went pale. “I couldn’t kill them, Tomas. I could only incapacitate them.”

  “It is impossible to kill that which is not alive. They are children of the Void, and no living creature can understand them.

  Of all the foes the Valheru faced, mightiest of them all were the Dread. We invaded their realm and many of the Valheru fell. We returned, keeping them at bay, and told ourselves how mighty we were.

  “Pug and I faced a Dreadmaster when we searched for Macros, many years ago. We bested it by guile and power, and it took two of us. As far as I know, this sword”—he patted the pommel of his weapon—“is the only thing on this world that can destroy one at a touch. There may be other artifacts of which I am igno-2 1 5

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  rant which can also harm them; this is why we must convene and speak with every artificer and priest we can trust.

  “If the Dread have found a way into this world . . .” He stopped and pointed up the mountain. “Those children may have blundered into our realm without understanding what they had found. But had their lords and masters found that passage, this entire continent would soon be in ashes. The princes of the Dread are beings of vast power, perhaps as great as that of the gods, and if they have a hand in any of this . . .” He took a deep breath. “I wish Pug were here.”

  Miranda said, “I wish that every day.”

  Tomas resumed walking. “I will call Ryath and get quickly to Elvandar, then return with spellweavers. We must speak to the Quor and investigate that site you just destroyed, Miranda.

  If there is still some weakness in the fabric of the universe up there that brings us closer to the Void, we must know about it.

  Explain this to Castdanur, Kaspar.” He leaped high onto a boulder, a jump no human could duplicate, and held his hand aloft.

  “Ryath! I summon thee!”

  Within a minute a thunderous explosion above them signaled the arrival of the dragon. “I come, Dragon-rider.”

  “I need your assistance, once more, old friend,” said Tomas to the giant red dragon. “Our world stands in peril and we must seek to save it.”

  Tomas didn’t wait for the dragon to land, but leaped from the boulder onto its back. The dragon turned and with a single snap of its massive wings shot up into the sky, leaving the four humans staring in awe.

  Miranda turned and faced downhill, her shoulders hunched in barely contained anger. The others hardly heard her as she said, “Where is my husband?”

  Pug welcomed the sight of Martuch and Hirea. “What of Nakor and Bek?” he asked.

  The two old fighters said, “They were well, last we saw of them.” Glancing around, Martuch said, “Where is Lord Valko?”

  Pug said, “With his sister and the other Bloodwitches. They 2 1 6

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  said he needs to remain with them for a while.” He looked down a moment, as if considering his next words. “I sense something is converging. Enough was said to lead me to believe that the White is positioning itself, getting ready to move if the opportunity presents itself.”

  “Ah,” said Hirea. “Then the Gardener remained as well.”

  Pug said, “I have much to tell you, some of which may be difficult to understand, but before I do, what of the muster?”

  “No one has passed word to the leaders of the battle societies or any of the great houses. A great muster is coming, that we know, but we do not know when. There has been a calling of the Imperial Guard, which is unusual. We judge it to be a prelude.”

  “A prelude to what?” asked Magnus. “Is there no one in the palace who might be able to shed light on this?”

  Martuch said, “Our alliances are twisted at times, and there are many factions even within the White. The Gardener forged a strong, single purpose, but before that . . .”

  Pug said, “I have some sense of it. Before that it was chasing alliances and a great deal of talk.”

  Martuch bridled and Hirea looked ready to draw his sword.

  “Many died so that we might have alliances and talk, human,”

  said the old instructor. “Valko’s father willingly gave his life so that his son could assume the mantle of House Camareen. We are a race of fighters; plots and planning do not come easily to us, and above all else, we chafe at waiting.”

  “I think you will not have to wait much longer,” said Magnus. “Father, tell them about the White, the Bloodwitches, and the Gardener. And most of all, tell them about Ban-ath.”

  Pug nodded. “Listen, my friends, and realize that what I am about to tell you may strain your credulity, but every word I say to you know is true.” Pug then began to tell them the tale of Macros the Black and the Trickster God.

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  Chapter 14

  disaster

  The Council was in an u
proar.

  Several factions loyal to the Emperor had banded together to block what they felt was the blatant attempt by the Warlord to reestablish a predominance not seen since before the time of the Mistress of the Empire. Tetsu of the Minwanabi, Warlord of the Nations of Tsuranuanni, by grace of his cousin the Emperor, stood and held up his hands. “Silence!” he commanded.

  The office of Warlord was supreme, in the absence of the Emperor, but he faced a generation of ruling lords and ladies who had never before been confronted by anyone wearing that mantle. They were far less inclined to heed his commands than their ancestors might have been. Even so, Tetsu was a charismatic leader and he car-

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  ried the majesty of office, as well as a dozen Imperial Guards who now moved around the vast hall urging the raucous rulers of the Empire to calm.

  “Heed me!” shouted Tetsu.

  Tetsu of the Minwanabi was torn. He had been raised unlike any other heir to the mantle of power in the Empire. House Minwanabi was one of the five great houses of the Empire, and his place among the ruling elite of the nations had been secured before his birth. But history had conspired always to place the Minwanabi in a subsidiary role to their cousins the Acoma, the Emperor’s house. For as long as he could remember, Tetsu of the Minwanabi had plotted and schemed to rise to the highest position possible in the High Council, and whatever murderous fantasy he might imagine that would put him on the golden throne he had kept to himself, for he was, at the last, Tsurani.

  But today he was shaken to the fiber of his being, for today was his first day ruling the High Council in the Emperor’s name, and today he had left the Emperor’s retreat on the old Acoma estates, where over a long breakfast the Light of Heaven had told him things no sane man could hear without being shaken.

  He had been given a mandate by the Emperor and no matter what fantasies of ambition had filled his nights, he put them aside in the light of day, for he was, at the last, Tsurani.