A March into Darkness dobas-2

by Robert Newcomb

  “I have ways of finding out if you’re telling the truth,” Faegan warned him. “If I think you’re lying to me, my methods of making sure can be most unpleasant.”

  “It’s the truth, I swear it!” Reznik pleaded. Suddenly a more confident look overcame the Valrenkian’s face.

  “I just remembered something else,” he said. “You’re a member of the late Directorate of Wizards! You took vows against murder!” Suddenly surer of himself, Reznik laughed at Faegan’s expense. “Because I am not attacking you, you must take me alive!” he added brazenly. When he heard no response he decided to press his advantage.

  “Since that is the case, let me tell you something else, wizard, ” he added nastily. “I enjoyed making those potions for Satine, and I reveled in the fact that she killed your precious Geldon and Lionel! I have tortured and killed hundreds during my career, and I loved every minute of it! My only regret is that you didn’t die with so many of your Minions in those traps I left behind in Valrenkium! I spit on their graves, you useless cripple!”

  Sure that he had found the secret to his survival, Reznik held out his hands. “Go ahead, wizard, ” he said snidely. “Take me into custody.”

  Faegan had become so incensed that he trembled with rage. He raised his hands and pointed his scorched fingers at the Valrenkian. Aeolus started to make a move toward stopping him, but Jessamay quickly touched him on one arm. His face grim, Aeolus took Jessamay’s advice and decided not to interfere.

  If there had been any mercy in Faegan’s heart for the Valrenkian, Reznik’s boasting had just destroyed it. Taking a deep breath, Faegan decided.

  “You’re wrong on two counts,” he said quietly. “First, I was never a member of the Directorate of Wizards. And second, I never took their vows.” He raised his hands a bit more.

  Reznik’s look of terror quickly returned. “You said that if I told you where Serena and Clarice are, you would let me live!” he pleaded.

  “No I didn’t,” Faegan answered quietly.

  Before Reznik could protest, Faegan launched twin beams at him. The beams quickly blanketed Reznik’s body and lifted him into the air.

  Faegan moved his arms. The twin beams threw Reznik violently across the room and headlong into a wall, breaking the Corporeal’s right arm and leg in grisly compound fractures. Then the bolts threw him across the room again like he was nothing more than some broken doll. Screaming wildly, Reznik smashed into the marble fountain. His skull split open, killing him instantly. As Aeolus, Jessamay, and the warriors looked on, the room fell silent.

  After folding his scorched hands in his lap, Faegan lowered his head.

  CHAPTER LXX

  AS WIGG ESCORTED SHAILIHA DOWN THE SECOND-FLOORhallway, worry crowded into his mind. Tristan, Ox, Traax, and several warriors followed them.

  Wigg knew that finding Serena’s private rooms wasn’t the problem. What truly concerned him were the unknown dangers awaiting them there. Serena was a powerful sorceress. She would savagely defend herself. Most of all, she would protect her daughter to the bitter end.

  But Wigg had an even greater worry. Serena and Clarice might have already escaped. The lower regions of the Recluse were riddled with unexplored areas. There could be secret passages leading from there to the relative safety of the countryside. If Serena and Clarice were already gone, they might never be found.

  Shailiha slowed as she neared the next hallway corner. Stopping, she held up one arm, then turned to look at the others. There was no fighting here, and things were quiet. Too quiet, she realized.

  Wigg quickly looked around the corner, then pulled back. Double doors laden with gilt filigree stood at the far end of the crimson-carpeted hallway. After ordering everyone to be still, Wigg closed his eyes and concentrated. Soon he opened his eyes.

  “Besides us, I sense only two owners of endowed blood,” he whispered. “They are each immensely powerful, and one dwarfs the other. Logic says that Serena and Clarice are behind those doors. It must be they, for it’s highly doubtful that any consul would have blood that strong.” Wigg looked meaningfully at Tristan and Shailiha.

  “I suspect that the more powerful blood belongs to Clarice, your half niece,” he added.

  Tristan’s response was immediate. “We must try to take them alive,” he said, “especially Clarice. Too many in our family have already died. She shares the blood of the House of Galland, and she is an innocent in all of this. I will not abandon that part of her blood which is my own.”

  “I understand your feelings,” Wigg answered. “But you must also remember what the Envoys of Crysenium told you. The child possesses a left-leaning blood signature. Although she is untrained, she poses a great threat to the future. If killing her becomes the only option, we must take it.”

  “What do you propose?” Shailiha asked.

  “Serena will be expecting us to break down the double doors,” Wigg answered. “Instead, I’m going to surprise her. Most of the rooms on this floor have balconies. I’ll order Ox to come with me, and we’ll search until we find one. He will then fly me toward Serena’s chambers. Her rooms likely have a balcony, too. If so, I’ll burst them open with the craft. That will distract Serena from the doorway. When you hear the noise, come running and knock down the doors. We will try to take her and the child alive.”

  Tristan thought for a moment; then he looked at Shailiha. The princess nodded her agreement. Tristan looked back at Wigg.

  “All right,” he said. “But hurry!”

  Using the craft, Wigg quietly unlocked a nearby door. He and Ox went in. After a time they came back out to enter another room. This time they did not reappear.

  “What are your orders?” Traax asked hisJin’Sai.

  After taking a quick look at Serena’s double doors, Tristan shook his head. “I have little to add,” he answered. “For now we will wait and listen for Wigg’s signal. Then we will charge for the doors and hope for the best. Remember, I want them alive.”

  As they waited, a deathly stillness overcame the hallway.

  “IT IS TIME,”SERENA HEARD THEPON Q’TARCLERICS CALLout to her mind.“The Recluse is lost. Go to the crib and collect the child.”

  Serena dutifully walked across the room and picked up her daughter. As the queen held her baby close, Clarice cooed sweetly. Serena lifted her head.

  “We are ready,”she replied silently.

  “Good,”the voices answered.“We will now retrieve the needed spell from your consciousness.”

  Serena closed her eyes. At once the amazingly complex formula appeared in her mind’s eye.

  “Start reading the formula aloud in Old Eutracian,”the clerics demanded.“Soon you and the child will be free.”

  Serena dutifully started reciting the formula.

  WITH HIS ARMS TIGHTLY WRAPPED AROUND THE WARRIOR’Sstout neck, Wigg held on as Ox launched from the balcony and took to the air. Ox followed Wigg’s instructions and flew toward Serena’s chambers.

  As they approached, they saw that her balcony doors were closed. Wigg ordered Ox to back off a bit and hover in the air. Using his right hand, the First Wizard pointed to doors of wrought-iron and glass. At once an azure bolt flew from his scorched fingertips. The bolt exploded the doors into a cacophony of flying glass shards and twisted iron.

  Carrying the wizard in his strong arms, Ox immediately headed for the balcony.

  THE MOMENT TRISTAN HEARD THE EXPLOSION, HE LED THEcharge down the hallway. With the coming danger he could feel hisK’Shari rising again. Three meters from the doors he instinctively launched into the air. Flying feet first, he crashed the doors down, then landed in the room on all fours, like a cat. Raising his dreggan, he frantically looked around.

  Wigg and Ox were rushing in from the balcony. On the other side of the room, Serena calmly held Clarice in her arms. The queen’s eyes were closed. Seemingly oblivious to the invasion, she was reciting some kind of incantation in Old Eutracian. Fearing the worst, Tristan frantically looked at Wigg.

>   “Stop her!” Tristan screamed.

  As Serena finished reciting her spell, she turned and gave Tristan a smile that sent a chill down his spine. To his horror, he saw that her image was fading. Somehow she and Clarice were going to escape his grasp after all! As he stood there powerless to stop her, she and her child became increasingly translucent.

  The narrow azure bolt that Wigg sent flying was designed to strike the queen’s head and spare the child she held. But as it neared Serena, instead of destroying her it passed straight through her-just like Faegan’s bolt had done to Xanthus, the night of the masquerade ball. Wigg’s bolt flew on to explode deafeningly against the room’s far wall.

  As Serena’s and Clarice’s forms became increasingly transparent, Tristan stood in awe of the craft. He knew that the members of thePon Q’tar were somehow spiriting them away, and that there was nothing he could do to stop it.

  Without warning, Serena and Clarice burst into flames.

  Screaming madly, Serena clutched her child closer to her breast. Astonished beyond words, Tristan and the others could only stand by and watch as the queen staggered toward the balcony. As she struggled they could also hear Clarice’s sickening cries as she burned to death in her mother’s arms.

  Serena turned and looked straight into theJin’Sai ’s eyes. An intense hatred rose from their fiery depth to strike at his very core. Then Serena and Clarice collapsed onto the balcony floor to form a pile of black ash. Dark, wispy smoke rose from the remains.

  Shailiha came to take Tristan by the hand. Neither of them completely understood what had just happened, but the results were clear. The threat was gone, but they had failed to save Clarice.

  Shailiha, Tristan, and Wigg walked onto the balcony to stand beside the dark mound. The wind came up and started to scatter the ashes into oblivion.

  “What just happened?” Tristan breathed. “Did she kill herself and take her child with her?”

  Wigg shook his head. “I don’t know,” he answered. “In truth we might never comprehend it fully. What little I could hear of her spell was so convoluted that even I didn’t understand it.”

  Tristan looked over the balcony and down toward the fighting. His troops had finally taken the upper hand. He called Traax to his side.

  “Get down there and finish it,” he said. “Try to take the remaining consuls alive. But if they continue to resist, kill them. I want every one of Serena’s surviving shrews and flying creatures put to the sword. And get me a casualty report as soon as you can, including any deaths or injuries suffered by Conclave members.”

  Traax clicked their heels. “It shall be done,” he said. He and the other warriors left the room.

  Tristan sadly looked to the sky. “It will come any time now,” he said quietly. He put one arm around his sister and held her close. As he did she laid her tired head on his shoulder.

  “Yes,” Wigg answered, “just as it always does.”

  The sky started to darken. Soon the heavens became black as night, and the wind howled incessantly. Then the lightning started, its bright tentacles streaking down in unbelievable patterns. Thunder tore from the sky to shake the very foundations of the Recluse. With Serena’s death had come the death of her blood. And with the death of her blood, her Forestallments were leaving.

  In his mind’s eye Tristan could see the young Scroll Master standing in the miraculous Well of Forestallments, watching as Serena’s gifts went to join those of so many endowed others who had perished in the name of the craft. He could imagine her azure death mask forming as the Forestallment calculations that had once graced her blood signature took their place below it, in one of the thousands of gleaming, azure cases. Might they come to rest beside Celeste’s? he wondered.

  Soon the heavens quieted and the trembling earth stilled. Tristan looked down to see that the pile of ash had been taken by the wind, never to return.

  There are still so many unanswered questions, he thought. But one thing remained certain. He had to return to Crysenium-perhaps for all time.

  Unsure of his future, he held Shailiha closer.

  CHAPTER LXXI

  “IT IS BY THIS RITUAL THAT THESE TWO SHALL BE JOINED, and may their union never be rent asunder,” Tristan announced as he read from the wrinkled parchment. “As a gesture of the love and respect that exists between you, I now ask that the traditional tokens be exchanged.”

  Tristan looked up from his parchment to gaze around the Great Hall. The room looked as resplendent as it had the night Xanthus had come to take him away. He gladly stood on the dais with several dozen other people. It was a happy day.

  Traax and Duvessa had asked that theirJin’Sai perform the ceremony, and Tristan had heartily agreed. All of the Conclave members were present, as were the palace gnomes. The room was packed with Minion well-wishers. Rafe, Balthazar, Scars, Martha, and the elders of Clan Kilbourne were also in attendance. The fliers of the fields fluttered colorfully overhead, and a string quartet sat nearby, ready to play.

  The Great Hall was lavishly decorated with flowers and potpourri, their combined scents wafting delicately into the air. Each of the stained-glass windows was open, and a late-afternoon breeze drifted into the room. Tables laden with food, wine, akulee, andtachinga sat along one wall. Every dish had been lovingly fussed over by the ever-industrious Shawna the Short like her life had depended on it.

  A path of yellow rose petals lay on the floor, leading away from the dais and across the hall. A Minion honor guard in dress uniform lined each side of the path. After a nod from Tristan one of the officers shouted out a crisp order. At once they all reached to their hips and drew their dreggans. Lifting their shiny blades high, they smartly crossed them over the pathway.

  Traax and Duvessa stood arm in arm at the opposite end of the pathway. Shailiha and Morganna stood directly before them. Shailiha held her daughter’s hand to keep her from falling. In her other hand the princess held the two warriors’ betrothal pins. At a gesture from Tristan, the quartet started to play. He then nodded at Shailiha.

  The princess looked down at her daughter. “Time to go,” she whispered.

  Morganna looked delightful in her red velvet dress, white leggings, and shiny black shoes. A wreath made from violet everscent blossoms encircled the crown of her head. As Morganna and Shailiha approached, Tristan realized how much the child was starting to look like her grandmother. Walking up the dais steps, Shailiha and Morganna came to stand beside Tristan. The prince looked at the betrothal couple and smiled.

  As Traax and Duvessa approached, one by one the Minion warriors lining the petal-strewn path clicked their heels. It was an impressive display, meant to honor the union that was about to take place. When Traax and Duvessa reached Tristan, they knelt before theirJin’Sai. Tristan again looked to the parchment that outlined the traditional Minion service.

  “You may exchange tokens,” he said to them.

  Shailiha placed the two pins into Morganna’s hand. They were the same two that Duvessa and Traax had exchanged earlier, when he had first asked that they be joined. Like the warriors who were about to be married, the pins had been through much, but they had survived.

  “Come along now,” Shailiha whispered to Morganna.

  As the princess ushered her daughter toward the happy couple, Morganna seemed a little afraid. She stared wide-eyed at Traax and Duvessa as she tentatively offered up the pins. The warriors gently took them from the little girl’s grasp.

  Duvessa gave Morganna a wink. “Well done,” she whispered.

  For the first time since entering the Great Hall, Morganna giggled. As Shailiha escorted her daughter back to their places, Duvessa and Traax looked up at theirJin’Sai.

  Tristan looked into their eyes. “You may begin,” he said.

  Traax snapped open his wings and gently surrounded Duvessa with them. They again exchanged betrothal pins like they had done the first time. No longer needing the parchment, Tristan rolled it up and handed it to Wigg.

  “Y
ou are now mates for life,” Tristan said. “May the Afterlife watch over you, and grant you a happy and fruitful union.”

  With that, all sense of decorum vanished. Everyone deluged the happy couple, and the sounds of laughter and applause filled the air. Bottles were uncorked, and glasses were filled and raised in what would soon become toast upon toast. Tristan joyfully embraced Traax and Duvessa.

  As it happened, Rafe and Ox had been standing beside each other during the ceremony. It was rare to see emotion overtake a Minion warrior, but Rafe noticed that Ox’s eyes had become shiny. Realizing that this was too delicious an opportunity to pass up, Rafe reached into one pocket to produce a frantically patterned highlander handkerchief. He elbowed Ox in the ribs and handed it to him. As Ox scowled and took it, Rafe could hardly keep from laughing.

  “What this be for?” Ox demanded.

  “It’s meant to dry your eyes with, you dunce!” Rafe said. “It’s the least I could do in your time of need! But I thought big Minion warriors like you weren’t supposed to cry!”

  As he growled some ancient Minion epithet and blinked maddeningly, Ox scowled again and shoved the ridiculous handkerchief back into Rafe’s hands.

  Two weeks had passed since the taking of the Recluse. Three of the four Black Ships had been too badly damaged to sail. But given enough time and care, they would be repaired and brought home. TheEphyra was still seaworthy. She and Faegan’s portal had returned everyone to Eutracia except for several Minion phalanxes ordered to stay behind and complete the repairs to the Recluse and the fleet.

  The fight for the castle had been successful, but costly. Luckily, every Conclave member had survived. Some had suffered wounds, none of which had been life-threatening. Many of Tristan’s warriors had died, and nearly half of Rafe’s horsemen. But even the highlanders agreed that the struggle had been worth it.

  On Tristan’s return, the Clan Kilbourne elders had demanded three thousand uninhabited acres of prime timber and grazing land northwest of Hartwick Wood. Wigg and Faegan had cringed when they heard about it. But a deal was a deal, and Tristan had gladly agreed. The needed papers had been drawn up and signed by Tristan and the camp elders.