Shadowblade

by Tom Bielawski

  “So be it,” the Cjii repeated. “You cannot escape the terms of this arrangement, should you try you will find yourself condemned to inexplicable torment. Now, step from your circle,” said Baelor, eying him greedily.

  Zach knew from the spell book that he must be free from the protection of the circle in order to accept the powers of the immortal Baelor. And even though he knew that once the words “So be it,” were spoken the bargain was made and could not be broken, he was still inherently uneasy being so exposed. But Baelor stepped into the open too and the pair shook hands. The moment Zach placed his hand in the cold, lifeless, hand of the immortal, a terrible pain overwhelmed him. As the pain drove him to his knees and the Cjii laughed mercilessly, Zach realized the possibility of ultimate betrayal.

  But in a moment the pain was gone, and it was replaced by the thrill of energy coursing through his veins. He felt powerful, nimble, strong. He knew now that he would become an unstoppable force and nothing would stand in the way of his quest for power, he would rule nations!

  “You feel the power!” said Baelor, with a laugh of triumph. “Yes, you will become my greatest weapon, Shadowblade! But there is one other thing you should know.”

  “What is that, Dark One?”

  “Now that you are a weapon of darkness, part of your essence exists on the Plane of Shadows,” the Cjii said with a smirk. “You are, in effect, a shadowling.”

  “A shadowling?” he asked, panicked. “Aren’t they undead?”

  “Something like that!” laughed Baelor.

  Zach was getting angry and his mind raced. Could he undo the bargain? Could he banish the Cjii?

  “You’re bound to me now! You are not truly undead, but you will have some of the benefits of the undead. You cannot be harmed by mortal blades, you can turn yourself into a shadow and disappear.”

  “I feel hollow now. Different.”

  “Indeed,” laughed the Cjii without pity. “You are no longer part of the world of the living. Your soul is now bound to me and will remain so, ensuring that you cannot turn away from my grasp. You now serve the Great Lord, Umber!”

  Zach said nothing. He shook off his indecisiveness. There was always a price to pay for power, and if immortality was that price...so be it.

  “I understand. What else must I be concerned with?”

  The Cjii explained in detail the extent of Zach’s new powers and the assassin was eager to leave Powyss. He felt the power coursing through him and wanted more than ever to reach the Everpool before Carym. He wanted to show Carym how powerful he had become and how worthless was the cause of Zuhr. Perhaps then he might convince his old friend to join the winning side.

  “Hello, Zach,” came a voice drifting through the darkness, rousing Zach from his semi-unconscious state. He tried to remember what had happened to him last night and some of the night’s events drifted back to him. After his bargain with Baelor was complete, and he had learned that Baelor wanted him to continue searching for the Everpool, Zach prepared his room and his things for departure at first light. Then he decided to sleep. But this voice, a voice that he had heard before, roused him from his very deep sleep. “Or perhaps I should call you Shadowblade?”

  With incredible speed, Zach rolled off his bed and extended the point of his weapon toward the familiar figure standing before him. To his surprise, however, the blade struck an invisible barrier and made a ringing sound that broke the stillness of the room.

  “Very good,” laughed the shorter man, bespectacled eyes glimmering in the light of the oil lamps in his room. “And yet, not good enough for the one called the Shadowblade. Why do they call you that? What is it about you, I wonder?”

  “What do you want?” he demanded, surprised that the man would be in the wreckage of The Siren’s Call. “Why are you here, Baldric?”

  He was shocked to see the old man standing in his room. He supposed he should have assumed the man would have his spies throughout the city. After all, he could not have kept the secret of the Shadowblade much longer. But Baldric looked far more formidable now than when Zach talked to him across the wooden counter in his shop. The old shop owner was wore a cloak of crimson and black, but the hood was down allowing Zach to see his blazing and sunken eyes. It was clear to Zach now that, as he had suspected when they first met, this man was far more powerful than his simple appearance let on.

  “Your allegiance. You wanted power, but it seemed to me that you already had power. Enough of it to wipe out a fourth of the Red Dragons in Powyss. I suspect that your power stems from that wonderful dagger of yours.” The old man’s voice was kindly, but it did not fool Zach into complacency. “You have caused great mischief in my city, great mischief indeed. But the damage you have done can be undone. There are other things at stake in this city that concern Umber.”

  “Your city?” asked the invisible voice, perplexed.

  “Yes,” answered Baldric, as though he had not noticed the question was not Zach’s. “My city. I rule here, the Lord Mayor is my puppet. A pawn in Umber’s great game. But he is a puppet soon to be replaced.”

  “Why should I swear allegiance to you?” he asked, scornfully. “I have already sworn allegiance to another, and Umber’s plans do not concern Powyss.” Now that Zach had endured the process of being bound to Baelor and receiving the gift of power from him, Powyss seemed much smaller and less interesting. He truly was eager to begin his journey to greatness.

  “Hmm, yes. You are bound to that fool, Baelor. But that binding can be undone. And do not believe that Baelor knows the will of Umber.”

  “What?” he asked, perplexed. The thought of undoing a binding was intriguing. Would he retain his powers? “How is that possible?”

  “How is anything possible?” said the man, his voice shifting and more sibilant now. Then the man’s entire image shifted and changed before Zach’s very eyes. What stood before him was not the old man who managed an antiques shop, but a powerfully built and muscular man with a ram’s skull for a helm including horns curling out from the sides. Each of the two horns were entwined with a seemingly live snake whose head rested on the horn’s tip, eyes glittering. His face was narrow beneath the helm and a long black goatee reached partway down his chest. He was armed with a number of daggers and knives, a dark sword at his hip, and a bow slung across his back. The man wore lightweight leather armor that seemed to be made from human hides that still bore the taught faces of their former wearers. “The power of the Shadow is great, far greater than those of that fool, Baelor.”

  “Who are you?” he whispered in awe, stunned by the change in the man’s appearance. He had suspected Baldric of concealing greater power, but this was beyond his wildest imaginings.

  “I am Cerunnos.”

  “Cerunnos, the great Horned Hunter! You work for...” his voice trailed off as the implication sank in. The Horned Hunter was the legendary figure from nightmares and fairy tales told to scare unruly children. He was A Shadow Hunter of the Dark Lord, Umber. He was a scout and assassin who fell under the command of the Dark Paladin when that man fell into the Shadow and marched an army across the Northern Continent. He was a ruthless hunter and no prey ever escaped his grasp.

  But those were just fairy tales.

  And yet, just the night before he had undertaken a bargain with a powerful lord from the Shadow Realms, Baelor. And before that he had struck a bargain with a lich prince in a city that had never been proven to exist beyond myth. He steeled his resolve. He would not cower before this man from his childhood nightmares, this man that had pretended to be a keeper of antiquities and relics. He was worried. He knew that Baelor had granted him great power, but he did not expect to be forced into using his untested abilities so soon.

  “Although you killed so many,” began the Hunter. “You did me a favor by ridding me of that fool Nyzyr, Fellsmere. He has been a thorn in my side for some time. Without him creating trouble, the Nyzyr will enter an alliance with the Red Dragons for a greater purpose.”

&n
bsp; “What could the Red Dragons possibly offer me that I do not already have?” he asked brazenly. Instinctively he knew that any sign of weakness or fear on his part would lead to his own doom. “They are weak and pitiful and I dispatched their finest with ease.”

  “Indeed,” agreed the Horned Hunter. “Tartarus has not chosen his followers well. There will be a great cleansing that will begin with the Lord Mayor. I am offering you the position of new Lord Mayor of Powyss!”

  “Lord Mayor,” he repeated softly, thinking of the power that would come with ruling a city like this. He could influence the criminal gangs and control trade routes. He could build his own navy and raid nearby lands for plunder. “But why?”

  “Tartarus has failed,” said the Shadow Hunter dismissively. “He will be dealt with by the Dark Lord himself, and has been replaced by me. I can assure you I will not fail. However, your remarkable powers would help me in my own cause to bring all of Ckaymru under the sway of the Dark Lord. Lord Mayor today, perhaps Rhi tomorrow. Think of the potential you would have with an army of the Red Dragons and Nyzyr at your back!“

  Zach did indeed think of the potential. If he were in command of the Red Dragons he could train them and outfit them better, and turn them into a real fighting force. He could overthrow the Rhi of Ckaymru! He could be a king!

  “Yes,” whispered the sibilant voice from behind the confines of his mask. “You feel the power that is offered you.”

  Zach wanted to say yes, he wanted to accept the offer of power. He could just see the jealousy in Carym’s eyes when his old friend learned that Zach had become a king! But the power of the binding that tied him to Baelor was strong within him, too strong. He could not accept. His mission was greater, far greater. And the potential rewards for completing his task were far greater than being a mere king.

  Perhaps he would even become one of Umber’s Shadow Hunters!

  “Why do you not use your great powers of disguise and become the Lord Mayor yourself?” he asked, stalling. He knew that Baelor, and Umber, would not be pleased with him if he turned up late for his rendezvous with the witch, Balzath.

  “That is not your concern. It should be sufficient to say that I cannot be tied to the daily constraints of ruling this city.”

  “I am immortal now, like you. Why would I choose to accept your offer?”

  “You may be a shadowling, but you are not like me! You’re powers are insignificant compared to those of us who have served Umber for centuries!” said the man angrily. “Those of us who are Umber’s Shadow Hunters are bound to the Shadow Tides themselves, and the Shadow Tides are bound to the Hunters! As long as we live, the Shadow Sigil will remain!”

  Zach stood his ground. The powers of the Shadow were truly incredible, but Zach had to think about escaping the deadly Cerunnos. The Shadow Hunters of Umber were those who were given immortality and great power in exchange for their souls. This one would very likely destroy him in seconds if he did not use every advantage he had. He would truly have enjoyed the prestige that would come of besting one of the Shadow Hunters, but he knew he did not have the time and the necessary advantage to win. Therefore he must escape.

  “You are a mongrel and a thief! A servant! But if you join me, perhaps we can raise your status somewhat.”

  “No,” answered Zach. “As you have your mission, I have mine. And Umber will not be pleased with this delay.”

  Cerunnos did not answer, it seemed he was through trying to convince Zach to join him. Instead, the dreaded horns of Cerunnos flared to life and bolts of fire wound down the lengths of the twin horns and blasted flames at the impudent man. And when the flames had cleared the horned hunter was staring at the empty space where Zach had just been.

  Zach was overcome with bizarre and conflicting sensations. At first he thought he was going to be cooked by the flames roaring from the Hunter’s horns. But he found his awareness of his physical being had shifted. He was no longer a physical being and, for a moment, he wondered if he had actually died just then. But he found that he could still see, in a strange sense, and feel as well. Only he felt as though he were much larger now, and stretched. And when he tried to focus his mind on himself he realized that he was now just a shadow of himself. A true shadow!

  He looked at himself and saw nothing but shimmering blackness that blended in with the floor and walls. Time slowed and Zach saw the gout of flames coming. Instinctively he knew that flames could harm him in this form, despite his newfound powers. Zach easily flitted away from the fiery attack and raced around the chamber to a point behind the Horned Hunter.

  While he managed to escape the flames, he did not escape the Hunter’s notice.

  “A nice trick, human,” growled Cerunnos as he turned around to face the spot where Zach’s shadowy form now hovered. “But I, too, am a creature of Shadows and you cannot escape my sight!” Somehow Zach knew that creature spoke truly. He was in fact existing in two places at once, on the mortal realm of Llars and in the Shadow Realms where the dark lord Umber held dominion.

  “Do you not serve Umber, Great Cerunnos?” asked Zach, though he had no mouth with which to form words. “Do we not all have the same goal? Why should we fight each other?”

  “What’s your point?” demanded the Horned Hunter, now bearing a wicked spear in each hand. Zach had no doubt that any weapon wielded by this legendary warrior would most likely slay him. He did not relish the thought of his soul being tormented by Baelor for failing him so quickly. “Umber encourages us to fight amongst ourselves. Only the strongest survive amongst the Shadow Hunters, and I am too strong for you!”

  Zach struggled to come up with a counter argument to stall for time. He knew that Cerunnos was right, Umber did not care what his followers did to each other. The Horned Hunter seemed to sense Zach’s resolve weakening and let out a great laugh. Then, he dropped into a fighting stance with his feet wide and body in a slight crouch. Zach knew the man would strike again.

  “But why earn the displeasure of Umber by killing one of his valued servants?”

  That seemed to give the creature pause and, for the moment, he did not advance on Zach’s shadowy form. Zach was neither afraid of Cerunnos, nor was he afraid of death. But he very rarely engaged in fights he had a chance of losing. This was one of those times where he felt it might be wiser to simply avoid the confrontation with the ancient warrior.

  “Go on,” he whispered, shifting his feet eagerly. It was apparent that the Hunter wanted to fight, but he was unwilling to risk the ire of Umber without due cause.

  “I am on a mission of great importance for Umber. I seek something sacred and holy to Zuhr that Umber wants me to find, something that will earn him great power and influence in the world.”

  “You’re bluffing,” said Cerunnos, scathingly. “If you were on such a mission in my city, I would know.”

  “Perhaps you are not as important as you think. Do as you will, Hunter,” replied Zach with seemingly little care. “If you defeat me, you will soon learn the taste of Umber’s displeasure.”

  “Bah,” he spat. “I have survived centuries of strife and conflict among the Dark Disciples. If you die, you will be replaced.” With that the Hunter advanced on Zach’s shadow, and Zach promptly shifted around Cerunnos to avoid the lunging spear. But the great warrior anticipated Zach’s move and the tip of a spear slashed right through Zach’s shadowy form causing the man to gasp in tremendous pain. Nonetheless Zach would not allow himself to be bested without a fight and so he raced his shadow up toward the ceiling and out of view of the Horned Hunter.

  Then, he willed himself to take human form again and fell from the ceiling. With Morloth extended in sword form, the cold steel tip of the dark magical blade punctured Cerunnos’ armor between the shoulder blades under the weight of Zach’s falling body. The Horned Hunter wailed and thrashed and Zach was thrown across the room where he hit the wall, hard. He came to his senses quickly, and willed the dagger back into his hand. When he closed his hand around the dagg
er’s handle, he was overcome with a sense of power flowing into him from the Hunter, it was the dagger stealing the Hunter’s energy and giving it to Zach. Though the transfer of power faded quickly as the angry warrior’s wound closed, the power that was within Zach remained and invigorated him.

  He threw the dagger at the Horned Hunter again, but the ancient warrior sidestepped and the missile only grazed his side. But the graze was enough to accomplish what Zach wanted and more of the Horned Hunter’s own power flowed into Zach. He felt himself growing stronger and the Hunter growing weaker. But even in a weakened state Zach knew the Horned Hunter was too strong.

  The Hunter swung his sword, the blade alight with darkfire, Zach parried the blow with Morloth.

  “You are going to die, shadowling!” taunted the Hunter. Zach’s earlier wounds from the Hunter’s devious weapon hurt badly. “You feel the power of a blade forged in the darkfire of the shadowrealms!”

  The Horned Hunter locked blades with Morloth, his superior strength forcing his own blade closer and closer to Zach’s face. Zach was in a difficult spot. He knew that if he turned himself into a shadow now, the Hunter would be free to strike at him with his blade while he changed shape. But if he didn’t do something soon, the Hunter would impale him with that deathly blade. It seemed he had no other choice.

  Zach willed himself to take the form of a shadow and disappeared, but he did not escape before the Hunter’s sword passed through his nebulous form. The intensity of the attack was such that Zach could not hold his shadowform any longer and he found himself lying on the floor, breathing hard. The Horned Hunter approached the supine man, laughing with glee as he held his enchanted blade high above Zach’s midsection.

  And as the downward stroke that could end his existence began, the door to his room burst open in a shower of splinters and debris.

  Cerunnos was caught off guard by the sudden explosion and Zach used the distraction to his advantage as he struggled to roll away from his attacker. His wounds burned intensely, the pain caused his vision to blur and made breathing difficult. As he rolled away and to his feet a shadowy ball of energy flew across the room and blasted Cerunnos in the side, knocking the Horned Hunter from his feet. Zach moved to throw Morloth at his attacker but suddenly found himself frozen in place. Fear coursed through him now as he tried to discern what had interceded in his fight, and why.