Chaosmage (Age of Darkness)

by Stephen Aryan

  Closing her eyes Tammy focused on her breathing and tried to empty her mind. Years of training in the Watch and then the Guardians had taught her how to control her emotions, but since coming to Voechenka it had proven difficult. Now, instead of holding them at bay, she began to let all of her strongest emotions come to the surface.

  Tammy turned her thoughts back in time, focusing on her bloody days as an enforcer and fighter. Once again she heard the cracking of bones, the popping of joints and the screams as she twisted flesh beneath her hands. The wet smacking of fists on flesh. The baying of the crowd as it screamed for blood and the addictive rush of adrenaline as her opponent fell to the ground. Reaching down into herself she tried to peel back her self-control and shrug off the chains of morality and ethics.

  Buried, deep inside, was her primal self. As strong urges started to fill her mind Tammy tried to hold on to them and not let them control her. Normally such a struggle wouldn’t be necessary, but she could feel something in the air calling to her to just let go. To draw her sword and kill the first person she saw. To bathe in their blood. To run wild through the streets howling at the sky. The urge was so strong she had partly drawn her sword before she realised and quickly shoved it back.

  Stumbling out the door Tammy felt as if she were teetering on a tightrope. She felt drunk and hungry, horny and angry, as the urge to kill swelled in her chest.

  Someone slapped her across the face and she turned, snarling at the man dressed in grey furs. Tammy could see he was talking but the words just didn’t make any sense. She could smell his fear and see the concern on his face, but his name evaded her. There were others close by, staring at her, and all of them were armed for a fight. The odds did not look good but she would make them bleed.

  “Tammy!” screamed the man. The word, her name, penetrated the fog in her mind. She felt his hand on her chin and started to pull away, but then another stronger urge started to overwhelm her at his touch. Tammy pulled him tight against her, forcing him onto his toes so that she could kiss him. A growl started deep in her throat as she tasted him and felt his body start to respond. When she grabbed his crotch the man stumbled back, wide-eyed and confused. He wanted to play. Well, she could play.

  “The Forsaken,” he jabbered and something shifted at the back of her mind. She was supposed to be doing something. “Where are the Forsaken?” he said.

  Tammy felt the darkness recede for a second and she managed to regain control, but it was tenuous. She felt as if she were barely holding on.

  Balfruss had been right. Something in the city rejoiced at everything that she’d done and she knew it wanted more. It wanted her.

  Turning slowly in a circle she tried to concentrate on the city rather than the emotions within. The streets echoed with violence and the whisper of spirits, but there was a strong and familiar pulse from something still alive. It called to her with a siren song, telling her to walk blindly into the dark and embrace the primitive version of herself.

  “This way,” she said, moving at a jog. She hoped the others would follow and that she could stop it overwhelming her again. The closer she came to the source the stronger the urges became. Tammy had to fight her own body not to draw her sword and kill everyone. Another part of her mind told her to tear off Kovac’s clothes, shove him to the ground and mount him. The images of sex and violence were so powerful her breathing became loud and ragged. With every step she had to fight her own nature and repress the animal inside.

  Stumbling along, forced to pause from time to time to centre herself, Tammy led the mercenaries across the city. It felt as if the struggle had been going on for hours by the time she found the church. It wasn’t large but even a cursory glance showed it was considerably older than the surrounding buildings. The doors had been ripped off, allowing her to stagger inside and collapse on all fours.

  Kovac started to move towards her but she waved him back, sitting on her haunches. She couldn’t bear for anyone to get too close in case of what she might do to them. There was a fire raging inside. It surged along her veins and beat in time with her heart. The echo of that madness and thirst for violence had drawn her to this place.

  Closing her eyes Tammy tried to repress everything she’d dug up inside, but images of the past flashed before her mind’s eye. Instead she looked around the church for a distraction. The pews had been taken away and probably burned, along with any tables or chairs. All that remained was a huge stone table at the far end of the room, a heavy metal bench and a pile of mouldy cushions stacked in a corner. The stone floor was built from a mosaic of tiny red and white tiles, but kneeling so close to them she couldn’t see a pattern.

  Weak winter sunlight poured in through the windows and Tammy felt faint warmth on her face. Turning towards the light she stared up at the stained-glass windows which somehow remained intact. This was an old church of the Maker. One window showed him labouring beside the First Men in the fields, planting a row of tall crops. The First Men were supposed to be massive beings, but still He towered over them as if they were young children. The expression on His face was one of benevolence and yet she thought it was tinged with sorrow, as if He could foresee the many horrors the tribes would commit against each other in the future. He had created and raised them, teaching them about love and compassion, and yet they had still killed their neighbours. Out of greed, out of jealousy, out of fear.

  In the next window a man stood with a flaming torch, bold and defiant against the dark while the Maker looked on with pride. Each window showed a miracle where He had given the people a gift to help them live and grow.

  Tammy didn’t believe in the Maker or the Blessed Mother. Everything she’d ever accomplished had been because of her own perseverance and determination. She owed her success to no one and equally there was no one to blame for her failures. She was responsible for it all and was not about to give up now.

  Digging deep within herself again she faced everything she’d done head on. All of the lives she’d taken. All of the families she’d ruined. All of the pain and heartache she’d caused. But not all of it had been bad. With the unpleasant memories came others. Lives she’d saved as a Guardian. Families reunited and justice meted out. The scales might not be balanced yet but she was moving in the right direction. Whatever controlled the Forsaken, it had nothing new to show her that she’d not thought about by herself. It did not control her. She knew her own worth.

  Tammy stood up and looked around at the church with fresh eyes. The mercenaries were still wary, Kovac most of all, but she tried to appease him with a smile.

  “It’s all right. I’m in control again.”

  He didn’t look convinced but slowly edged into the church. Three stayed outside to watch the street, while the others helped her search the room.

  “What are we looking for?” asked the tall mercenary, the one they called the Prince.

  “I don’t know but the Forsaken were definitely here.” Tammy was certain. She could still feel a faint echo of their presence as if someone were running a finger across her scalp.

  A search of the main hall revealed nothing so they moved to the back. A few rooms had been used for storage and living quarters for the priests. Two rooms had metal doors and the rest were missing, which Tammy assumed meant they had been made of wood and carried away. Both of the remaining doors were locked and the dents and scratches showed people had unsuccessfully tried to break them down several times.

  “Give me a minute,” said one of the sisters. Kovac had told her their names, Teela and Teeva, but Tammy couldn’t tell them apart. One knelt by the lock and took out a set of picks while the other held her sister’s sword. “Someone’s made a mess of this,” she tutted, probing the lock with several long metal pins. After another minute there was a loud click that seemed to echo very loudly in the short corridor.

  Everyone drew their weapons and on Tammy’s signal Kovac pushed open the door. Inside the room they found the former occupants. Both priests were dead, a dag
ger buried in each of their hearts in what appeared to be some sort of suicide pact. Their faces had sunk and the skin was tight, but they showed little sign of decay, making it difficult to know when they’d died.

  The sister went to work on the other lock and as she worked Tammy felt something brush against her skin. She glanced at the others to see if they had noticed. Kovac was staring at the door and the others were fidgeting. He held one hand against the edge of the closed door where there was a small gap next to the frame.

  “I can feel air moving,” he whispered. The lock clicked open and once again they proceeded with caution.

  Beyond this door was a short set of stairs that led down to an empty basement. Tammy and the others stared at a hole in the floor that fell away into a black pit. The flagstones had been ripped up and finally she saw some evidence of the passage of many people. There were numerous scuffmarks on the stones as well as mud and drops of old blood. Rising up from the hole was a musty and damp smell that she couldn’t identify, and yet it was familiar.

  One of the sisters stripped some of the clothing off the dead priests, which she then lit with flint and tinder. It made for a poor torch and would burn out quickly but it was all they had. The light revealed what looked like a cave or tunnel under the basement. A set of crude steps had been created with chunks of stone which Tammy considered as she drew her sword.

  “Are you sure?” asked Kovac, still talking in a whisper.

  “We can’t turn back now.”

  Tammy went first while other makeshift torches were fashioned until they had one each. At the bottom of the rough steps Tammy found she was standing in a long tunnel that extended in both directions. The walls were so cold they felt almost damp to the touch. The mildew smell was much stronger but she still couldn’t see anything rotting.

  Choosing the left tunnel at random she moved down it before it curved out of sight. The mercenaries followed, the sisters staying at the steps and watching the tunnel in the other direction.

  Around the bend the tunnel extended in a straight line for a while before it came to a crossroads. Faced with three options she chose the left fork, determined to at least map the edge of the cave system. It was completely black in the tunnel and there were no natural sources of light, not even any phosphorescent fungus clinging to the walls.

  When they reached the next junction Prince stopped suddenly, cocking his head to one side. Kovac tapped her on the arm and they all stood in silence, listening to the crackle of the fire as it ate up the material of the priests’ old robes.

  Prince tapped his ear and pointed down the passageway on his left. Straining her ears Tammy tried to blot out the pounding of her heart and focus on the darkness beyond. Her breathing and that of the others seemed to be incredibly loud, but there was nothing else to hear. Just the silence echoing over and over. She was just about ready to move on when she heard something. A faint huff of breath.

  There was someone else down here. There was no way to know how close they were or how many were hiding in the dark.

  Kovac moved to her side until he could whisper in her ear. “We’ve gone far enough. The torches won’t last very long and we don’t want to get caught down here in the dark.”

  Prince tapped Kovac on the arm again and this time gestured down a different passageway. This time she didn’t have to wait long to hear the scuffle of movement against stone.

  “Move,” she said, urging Kovac back the way they’d come. He didn’t need to be told twice and neither did the others. They raced back, taking the right turn at every junction, shoving the others ahead of them.

  She followed the others and tried not to focus on whatever was lurking in the dark behind her. Perhaps spurred on by their sudden flight, something was moving closer and closer behind her. It wasn’t trying to hide its presence any more and the rhythmic patter on stone told her it was walking on two feet.

  By the time she reached the last bend in the tunnel the sisters and Prince had already gone up the steps into the basement. Each had dropped their torch as they went, creating a pool of light.

  Tammy waited until only Kovac was left in the tunnel before moving slowly towards the steps. Taking a risk she threw her torch behind her, hoping to catch a glimpse of whatever was pursuing them. The torch bounced off the wall and then fell to the ground, where it lay for a moment before someone picked it up.

  The man who held it was a stranger but Tammy recognised the writhing black tendrils moving beneath his skin. More surprising was that the Forsaken’s skin had started to turn purple in places, as if badly bruised. Even more startling was that when their eyes met he snarled, revealing a set of pointed teeth and a black tongue. She raised her sword and he took a step back, only to collide with something. Looming over his shoulder Tammy caught sight of another face and beyond that several more. All of them had pale purple skin and some had peculiar growths that had erupted from their face and neck.

  Turning her back on them Tammy ran for her life. She could hear them giving chase, but it was only a short sprint to the steps and she had long legs. Hands pulled her up the steps and then she span around and waited with the others in a ring around the hole.

  When the first Forsaken tried to come up the steps Kovac split open the woman’s skull with his sword. She fell back with a scream but three more replaced her and then they started to boil up out of the tunnels like a rising tide. It was a good chokepoint, but after a few minutes of stabbing and shoving them back, Tammy’s shoulders and arms were burning and fatigue began to set in.

  There wasn’t much room to fight, which stopped the Forsaken from overwhelming them, but their numbers seemed to be endless. There appeared to be sufficient bodies to keep this up all day, but she and the mercenaries would eventually tire and slip up. They had to fall back before it was too late.

  “Pull back slowly,” said Tammy. “Get ready to lock the door,” she yelled at the sisters. One of them nodded grimly a second before jabbing her sword into a man’s face through his right eye. He screamed and fell back into the darkness but others scrambled forward to take his place.

  The others withdrew until only Tammy and Kovac held the Forsaken at bay, swinging more wildly now that they had room to attack. Sweat ran down her face and she was breathing heavily, gasping for air in the stale basement as the Forsaken crawled out of the darkness like a walking plague.

  “Get out of there!” yelled the sister from the top of the stairs.

  “Go!” yelled Tammy, but Kovac shook his head before stabbing a man in the throat.

  “We go together,” he said. “Now.”

  They both cut into the Forsaken with a final burst of energy and then fell back together, running up the stairs. The moment they were both through the door it slammed shut and the sister went to work on the lock. The other mercenaries piled in, pressing themselves against the door to try and keep it in place. Tammy added her own weight, pushing as hard as she could in readiness for the first assault. Something hit the door from the other side, hard enough to make her grunt, but the door barely shifted. Several people were shuffling around on the other side but by the time they pushed again, one of the sisters was done with the lock. She made a savage twisting motion and snapped her pick. This time when the Forsaken hit the door it didn’t move.

  Not waiting to see how long the lock would hold they ran out of the church and kept up their pace until they were out of the Dureen district. They slowed finally to a fast walk but no one relaxed until they saw the familiar wall of the winery.

  Now that Tammy knew where the Forsaken were hiding, she would normally make a plan to study them. But just as the plague priest had said, assigning human motivations was pointless. They only wanted one thing. She would have to respond in an equally direct fashion.

  Right now, the only plan she had in mind involved a lot of fire and smoke to choke them to death in their underground burrow. Failing that, she would call on the Sorcerer, who she was confident could summon fire hot enough to roast them t
o death.

  As they reached the gates of the winery Tammy knew they were safe for now, but she wondered how the Forsaken would react to having their territory invaded. She suspected they wouldn’t have to wait long for an answer. It was going to be a long night.

  CHAPTER 35

  As soon as he left the camp Balfruss took precautions, hiding the echo of his connection to the Source. If one of Kaine’s students saw him, it wouldn’t make any difference, but at least this way they wouldn’t be able to feel him getting closer.

  It was one of the earliest things he’d learned from the First People. Just after the war he’d left Seveldrom with his father and travelled to live with the tribal people in the north. In less than a year they’d taught him so much about the nuances of magic that he felt like a child again. The majority of what he learned was not anything anyone at the Red Tower had ever been taught. When someone hired a Battlemage they wanted powerful and aggressive magic to force back an enemy. The First People had taught him subtlety and finesse and how to weave magic so delicate a person wouldn’t even feel it unless they concentrated.

  The First People believed that all life was connected to the Source and that, on a primal level, animals could feel that link. Beyond their normal senses many animals seemed to possess unusual intuition, which helped them avoid predators. People able to wield magic were broadcasting their connection so loudly it made them useless as hunters, unless they could hide the echo of their power.

  Weaving a fine net he’d memorised years ago, Balfruss laid it over himself, starting at his heart before miming pulling it tight over his head like a hood. The tribal teachers had laughed at his gestures, as they weren’t necessary, but they helped him picture things in his mind. The memory of such a different time in his life brought a sad smile to his face.

  Physically nothing had changed but now anyone trying to find him with magic would look right past him.

  While holding the net in place he drew a little more power from the Source and extended his senses, stretching his hearing and eyesight beyond that of a normal person. The buildings around him swung into sharp focus until he could see every crack in the stonework and every grain of dirt on the windows. He could hear the faint sighing of the wind through gaps in the stone and smell a change in the air. More snow was definitely on the way.