Taking on the exact hue of the sky surrounding them, they started diving down onto the flying warriors plummeting to help those on the ground. As they lost altitude and Wigg’s viewing angle on them changed, the shimmering shapes started changing color to perfectly mimic the green grass over which they flew. Wigg shuddered as he realized that the unsuspecting warriors would never see them coming.
Then Wigg saw Minion warriors suddenly start disappearing. They weren’t being cut down by whatever was attacking them. Instead, they simplyvanished!
Trying to regain control over his emotions, Wigg twisted the spyglass cylinders to follow one warrior’s progress and see what might happen. He soon got his answer.
Like so many others, the warrior was nowhere to be seen. Looking closer, Wigg found the lower parts of the warrior’s boots, but nothing else of him. Then the boots were hauntingly lifted a meter or two off the ground. They shook violently for a few moments, then fell back to earth and lazily toppled over. To Wigg’s utter amazement, the warrior’s body armor, weapons, and bones materialized out of nothingness to fall into a ragged pile. He thought he saw a shimmering shape move, then nothing. Somehow, the grotesque pile was all that remained of a once-living, breathing warrior.
When Wigg lowered the glass, there were tears in his eyes. “You must order a retreat,” he told Tristan.
Tristan snatched the glass from Wigg to try to see what had so disturbed the wizard. But without the benefit of Wigg’s gifts, he couldn’t identify the threat. All he could see were scores of Minion warriors suddenly disappearing from view. Looking farther, his blood ran cold when he saw the growing piles of Minion weapons, armor, and bones. He was about to order a Minion bugler to fly to them and blow retreat when from afar he suddenly heard its call. Traax or some other designated warrior must have ordered it, he guessed. He was relieved to hear it.
As the few remaining warriors started retreating, it seemed that they were not being pursued. Letting go victory cries, the shrews lumbered back to submerge into the Recluse’s lake and surrounding ponds. Unseen by Tristan and his forces, Serena’s envelopers returned to the sky and again flattened against the Recluse walls, perfectly mimicking their color and texture.
Tristan scanned the killing field. The once-proud group of one thousand volunteers had been cut down to several score, and most of them were wounded and bloodied. Realizing that the defeat had been total, theJin’Sai sadly lowered the glass and closed his eyes. As the battered Minions started finding their way back aboard, Duvessa and some of the Conclave members rushed to tend to their wounds.
Tristan turned to look at Wigg. “What just happened?” he breathed.
Wigg shook his head. “I am as much at a loss to explain it as you,” he said. “But Faegan, Jessamay, and Aeolus were also watching. I suggest that you order them to theTammerland. Perhaps they can shed some light on this mystery.”
“I have your mystery right here,” they suddenly heard a familiar voice say.
They turned to see Traax standing there. He was covered from head to foot in some kind of dark gray slime. Four warriors stood by his side. In their arms they held a highly unusual creature.
At a gesture from Traax, the warriors dropped the strange carcass to the deck. With the thing’s death, its camouflage had gone. As Tristan hurried closer, Traax sheathed his dreggan, then pointed to the beast. Tristan had never seen anything like it.
“I was lucky,” Traax said. “When that thing surrounded me, I was sure that I would die. That is all the warning those bastards give. Two of my officers saw it morph and rushed to my aid. Not knowing what else to do, they started hacking at it with their swords. Being smothered by that monster was not an experience I would care to relive.”
Wigg squatted to look at the dead beast. After a time, he stood and walked to Tristan.
“I have never seen one of these,” he said. “It deserves further examination.”
“First things first,” Tyranny interjected. “How much longer can you and the others keep the Black Ships hovering?”
“For a few more hours, at best,” Wigg answered calmly.
“What?” Tyranny exclaimed. “The only known body of water large enough to accommodate all the Black Ships is Dark Lagoon, and that’s hours away!” Shaking her head, she snorted a laugh down her nose. “I suppose we could put them all down atop the lake surrounding the Recluse,” she suggested sarcastically. “But I doubt that Serena would approve! So what do you expect us to do?”
“Don’t fret,” Wigg said. “I know of an appropriate spell that will help us. It was formulated three centuries ago, as the ships were being designed. I didn’t suggest it sooner because I wasn’t sure whether Tristan was going to order the ships to attack the Recluse. When Faegan, Jessamay, and Aeolus see what we’re doing, they will follow suit.”
Tyranny folded her arms across her chest. “Then I suggest that you get on with it!” she ordered. “This I have to see!”
As Wigg walked to the starboard gunwale he brusquely ordered the warriors out of his way. Curious, Shailiha walked to stand beside Tristan and Tyranny.
“What is he going to do?” she asked. Tristan just looked at his sister and shook his head.
Looking over the side of the ship, Wigg raised his arms. At once bolts loosed from his hands to fly toward the ground. All the Conclave members walked closer to watch.
As Wigg’s bolts struck the earth, great mounds of soil exploded into the air. On and on the process went, until Tristan guessed what the wizard was doing. He smiled as he watched, knowing that Tyranny and Shailiha still hadn’t grasped the concept.
Wigg finally finished his task and lowered his hands. Everyone could see that the stress of keeping the massive ship airborne and performing his strange digging had exhausted him. But if Tristan was right, there was only one more thing for Wigg to do, and then he could rest.
Raising his arms again, Wigg strengthened his spell over the ship. TheTammerland started moving. But rather than rise higher into the air, she kept her altitude and drifted to port. Tristan again looked over the side of the ship to see that he had been right. Wigg had used the craft to dig a deep cradle in the earth that perfectly matched the shape of theTammerland ’s hull.
Wigg slowly lowered his hands. TheTammerland descended, and her hull lowered ponderously into the earthen cradle. Her timbers creaked as she shifted; then she finally settled to a perfect level both forward to aft, and bow to stern.
“We used this technique to great effect during the Sorceresses’ War,” Wigg said. “Sometimes we would burn away small stretches of forest, then dig these cradles and lower the ships into them. The surrounding foliage served as wonderful hiding places when the Coven’s forces were on the march.”
“Well I’ll be!” Tyranny said. “Well done, First Wizard.”
Just then they heard more explosions, and they turned to look. As Wigg had promised, Aeolus, Faegan, and Jessamay were doing the same thing. Soon all four Black Ships had settled into their forgiving earthen cradles.
Tristan looked over at Traax. “I want patrols sent aloft at once,” he ordered. “And ring all four ships with ground troops. If the slightest threat is noticed, alert me immediately.”
Traax came to attention and clicked his heels. “I live to serve,” he answered. He hurried away to give the orders.
As Traax walked off, Tristan returned the spyglass to his eye and gazed at the Recluse. Because he was already familiar with shrews from his previous visits to Parthalon, he was far more worried about the new creatures that Serena had conjured.
The unexpected creatures’ abilities to camouflage themselves would greatly impede his attempt to take the Recluse. If their numbers were strong enough, sailing the ships over the Recluse walls might be impossible. And he had already seen the results when he had attacked with a small force. Wigg had cautioned against a full frontal attack, and at first Tristan had agreed. But now he wasn’t so sure. They had just proven that sending forces against the Reclu
se piecemeal was suicide. What he needed was to find another way in, but there wasn’t one.
As he scanned the fortress an idea formed in his mind. Lowering the spyglass, he looked down at the deck, thinking. He knew his concept had merit, but he would need advice from his mystics before deciding. He turned to look at Tyranny.
“Order Faegan, Aeolus, and Jessamay aboard,” he said. “Bring them and Traax to the meeting room. We need to talk.” He pointed to the dead creature on the deck. “And have them bring that disgusting thing along,” he added.
Without further ado he led his remaining Conclave members aft, then down the stern stairway to await the others.
CHAPTER LXII
“YOU CAN PROPOSE THE SAME THEORY ONE HUNDREDtimes more, but our answer will still be the same,” Wigg said to Tristan. “You idea is sound, I’ll grant you that. But we just can’t find a way to make it work.”
All of the Conclave members sat around a table in the stern meeting room of theTammerland. They had been discussing the taking of the Recluse for the last two hours. They all agreed that Tristan’s idea had promise. But as Wigg said, it seemed impossible to carry out.
Tristan understood that the gravest threat to an attack on the Recluse were the new creatures at Serena’s command, and their unusual ability to camouflage themselves. Traax had agreed. But he had also suggested that unless the beings’ numbers were overwhelming, they might be conquered if only they could be seen. Sadly, an examination of the dead creature Traax brought back to the ship had revealed little about its endowed workings.
Tristan’s idea was simple in concept. If Serena’s flying creatures could be covered with some form of substance, then they could be seen, allowing the Minions and highlanders to attack them on equal terms. The prince had hoped that his mystics could somehow provide a way to do that. But after two hours, they were still searching for an answer.
Worse, even if they could overcome Serena’s servants and get close to the Recluse, they still had to find a way in. Soaring over the walls was probably the only option. But Serena’s consuls would without doubt be stationed atop those walls and would use the craft against them-probably in the form of azure bolts. If any of the mystics empowering the ships were killed, then his or her vessel would crash, and perhaps never rise again.
Faegan placed his hands flat atop the table, thinking. “The first problem with Tristan’s idea is securing enough of some substance to cover all of Serena’s flying beasts,” he said. “And that is further complicated by the fact that we have no real idea how many of them exist. Those that killed the warriors this morning might have been only a smattering of the total number. Worse, getting the stuff close to the Recluse would be impossible without being attacked again. And even then the substance would have to be somehow spread out in a huge, high pattern, because we cannot see the enemy. We could hope that they might fly through it and thereby reveal their forms, but that is highly doubtful. There are simply too many variables that remain unaccounted for.”
Tristan watched Shailiha picked up her wineglass and thoughtfully roll it between her palms. He knew that look-he had seen it all of his life.
“What is it?” he asked. “Do you have an idea?”
“Perhaps,” she answered. She looked at Faegan. “You say that you would need a great deal of some liquid substance to make Tristan’s idea work,” she mused. “Are you saying that you four could never conjure that much-even if the acolytes helped?”
“It’s highly doubtful,” Faegan answered. “And even if we did, Serena would see it as we tried to move it closer to the Recluse. Moving that much so far and so fast would probably be impossible in itself.”
Shailiha thought for a moment. “Would water work?” she asked. “By that I mean, could you use the craft to color it, and make it sticky, somehow?”
“I suppose,” Jessamay answered. “But why do you ask?”
“Because the lake surrounding the Recluse is full of it,” she answered. Realizing that she had seized on something, the princess leaned forward over the table. “If you could add color to it and change its composition, could you four lift it into the air and cause it to spread out?” she asked.
Aeolus’ eyes narrowed. “Perhaps,” he said, rubbing his chin, “if each of us tried to lift only his or her share. But even then it would be a monumental undertaking.”
Shailiha looked at Abbey. “Can you come up with a concoction that would spread quietly if placed into the lake water and would then change its color and consistency only when you ordered it to? And then could you somehow make it explode on command?”
“Perhaps,” Abbey said. “But I would need Faegan’s help. I have most of my herbs and oils aboard. Provided we can come up with a basic formula, your other requirements could then be incorporated with various spells.”
“Good,” Shailiha said. “Then this is what I propose…”
As the princess outlined her plan, Tristan smiled. It was truly ingenious. But even if it allowed his forces to overcome Serena’s flying creatures and the shrews were also dealt with, that still didn’t grant them entry to the Recluse. The fortress walls were several meters thick, and probably impervious to azure bolts. And despite the Recluse’s size, its outer ward wasn’t large enough to accommodate landing even one of the ships behind the fortress walls. Then there remained the problem of Serena’s consuls.
While he glumly thought about the Recluse’s seeming invulnerability, a curious thought struck him. As the idea took shape, he turned it over in his mind. After Shailiha finished explaining her idea, Tristan looked at Wigg.
“Tell me,” he said, “can you, Aeolus, Faegan, and Jessamay empower the Black Ships if you areinside of them?”
Wigg rubbed his chin. “I don’t think it has been tried, but I can’t see why it wouldn’t work,” he answered. “Because we needed to see where we were going, we always chose to empower them from abovedecks.”
“And could you use the craft to temporarily provide certain parts of the ships with extra fortification?” Tristan asked.
“I suppose so,” Wigg answered. “But what are you suggesting?”
Tristan started to explain his plan. The more he described it, the more he realized how well it might follow Shailiha’s idea. The strategies would need split-second timing, but they just might work. When he finished speaking he sat back in his chair. To his relief, everyone approved.
One hour later they had a fully formed attack plan, and the Conclave mystics went to work.
CHAPTER LXIII
GARVIN WAS SMALL FOR A MINION WARRIOR. BUT WHAThe lacked in stature he more than made up for with courage. He was also resourceful, a good swordsman, and a fast flier. Because of these admirable traits, Traax had suggested him for a vitally important mission. To help him hide in the night sky, his exposed skin and his shiny weapons had been rubbed with charcoal.
The entire Conclave had questioned him for more than an hour before finally agreeing on him as their choice. As he stood on theTammerland ’s moonlit deck, the importance of his impending mission began to sink in. In the finest Minion tradition he was ready to do his best, no matter the cost to himself.
It was nearly midnight of the evening following the failed probe of the Recluse defenses. All the Conclave members were on deck to see Garvin off, as were throngs of anxious Minions and highlander horsemen. Tristan would soon order a group of warriors to conduct a diversionary tactic designed to draw Serena’s servants away from the Recluse. If the diversion failed, Garvin knew that he would probably be killed.
It had taken Faegan and Abbey all day and part of the night to produce the small amount of fluid that he would soon carry. It was precious, they had told him. The highly concentrated formula had exhausted Abbey’s supplies of certain herbs and oils, ensuring that producing another batch would be impossible. The campaign for the Recluse and the future of the Vigors relied on Garvin’s success. There would be no second chance.
Garvin looked to the night sky. TheJin’Sai was sta
nding beside him as they waited for the right time to send him aloft. If a suitable cloud formation formed, Garvin could perhaps use it to hide in. As he looked west, it seemed that he was about to get his wish. He pointed skyward.
“Look there,” he said to the others. “That might do.”
Tristan stared at the passing clouds. They were dense and moving east to west.
“What do you think?” he asked Traax.
Traax nodded. “I agree,” he said. “If we don’t take advantage of this formation, we might not get another one.”
“All right,” Tristan said to Garvin. “Hide in those clouds and travel with them as they move. Stay close enough to their lower edges so that you can see the ground. When the diversion starts, you know what to do.”
Tristan held out the precious glass tube. It was about four inches long by one inch wide. A simple cork secured its top. The dark green formula trapped inside swirled and eddied with a life of its own.
Garvin carefully took the tube from Tristan and secured it in a leather pouch tied around his waist. He clicked his boot heels together.
“I live to serve,” he said quietly. “And I won’t let you down.”
Tristan nodded. “Go,” he said softly. “May the Afterlife be with you.”
Everyone watched Garvin leave the deck and soar into the sky. Following his orders, he headed east and climbed quickly. They soon lost track of him as he approached the cloud formation.
Tristan turned to Ox. “Now comes your turn,” he said. “Take your force and head slowly for the castle’s southern face. Give them plenty of time to see you. When the shrews attack, fight them for a short time, then sound a retreat. We will surely lose some warriors to Serena’s shrews and camouflaged creatures, but that can’t be helped if we’re to give Garvin enough time. Go, and good luck to you.”
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