The Shadowmage Trilogy (Twilight of Kerberos: The Shadowmage Books)

by Matthew Sprange

  Just what in the name of all that was holy was going on?

  It did not – could not – make sense. Was this how Turnitia had once looked? Slowly, it began to dawn on him that he must have triggered some sort of trap in the ruins, some elven magic that had, somehow, transported him out of his own time and back to theirs.

  He did not even want to think about the implications of that.

  “Magus, your pardon.”

  The voice behind him made Lucius whirl round, its deep tones instantly setting his nerves on edge.

  He found himself looking at an elf.

  “Soluun, it was good of you to come,” Lucius said, but in a voice that was not his own. It was deeper, with far more bass and power. The words had come bidden to his lips but not by his will. Moreover, he knew he was speaking some alien tongue, and yet the words and their intent were known to him.

  Lucius, quite without willing it, stepped away from the balcony and into the room beyond. A very large and wide desk lay before him. Shelves contained neat rows of books and there was none of the clutter he had associated with such places before.

  The elf before him had appeared from a narrow archway and was dressed in a regal grey gown encrusted with vertical lines of blue gems that changed to sparkle a more golden colour when they caught the light. Such stones were beyond Lucius’ experience as a thief and he marvelled at what their value could possibly be.

  “If one of the Magi has concerns, it is only natural we should consult him,” Soluun said.

  Studying the elf, Lucius marvelled at the physique of the wonderful creature. It moved with a certainty of purpose that he would not have quite described as graceful – perhaps natural was the correct term, as if every movement and gesture the elf made was in perfect accord with the world and everything in it. Indeed, that every move was necessary for the world to remain as it was.

  Extremely tall, the elf seemed quite fragile but Lucius could see, even through the elaborate gown, that powerful muscles lurked below. It took him a moment more to realise that, somehow, he was looking at the elf at eye level.

  “I fear my concerns are too little, and too late,” Lucius said. “We are on a course that could destroy us all.”

  “It will not come to that,” Soluun said. “The dwarfs may provoke us, that may even be the likely course, but we will remain triumphant.”

  “We do not always attain victory. The battle on the Plains of Seazzor saw even a phalanx led by a windlord routed.”

  “A loss that was countered the next week by the breaking of the siege at Antrium.”

  Lucius sighed. “And so it goes on, they beat us, we beat them, on and on it will go until one of us is foolish enough to do something unthinkable.”

  “Would you rather we capitulate and lose everything?”

  “I would rather we never started this idiotic feud in the first place. What started as a diplomatic slight has been allowed to grow into outright war–”

  “A few minor skirmishes,” Soluun said.

  “Into outright war,” Lucius repeated. “This should never have been permitted, and damn the Council for allowing things to progress so far.”

  “You forget the dwarfs have denied us further diplomatic contact. The only way forward now is to beat them, and beat them hard, so they are forced to renegotiate for peace.”

  “I am sure, somewhere in the darkest reaches of the minds of the Council, that makes sense. However, it also means things will escalate, and the arcane power both we and the dwarfs now have access to is fundamentally without limit.”

  “Ours maybe,” said Soluun. “But not the dwarfs. They very much have limits. I have not seen them preparing skyships to sail to another world above us.”

  “And that project is almost as foolish as war with the dwarf nation state.” Lucius said, taking a step back to the balcony so he could point to the sphere of Kerberos, hanging in the sky. “We have no idea what that place is or what landing there will do. We have no idea what we might awaken.”

  “That is why we go, to explore and discover.”

  “There are better ways of doing it,” Lucius hissed. “For millennia our society has grown, at a steady and measured pace, precisely because we were not foolish enough to just rush in. What changed, Soluun?”

  For a moment, the other elf was silent. When he spoke, it was in a thoughtful tone.

  “I think, perhaps, it was inevitable. The rate of progress increases as we learn more and more.”

  “You may be right, Soluun. But it does then beg the question; at what point does our reach exceed our grasp? And if we find that answer it may be worth thinking about the consequences of reaching that point.”

  “Surely a question for the future, Magus. What is important right now is that we protect ourselves from the dwarfs. If they cannot hurt us, then our victory is assured.”

  “No, Soluun,” Lucius said. “It is no longer a choice between us winning this war or the dwarfs doing so. There is now a third possibility that becomes steadily more inevitable with each passing day.”

  “Which is?”

  “Total annihilation for both. That one of us unleashes something so powerful, so terrible, it consumes every living thing in this world.”

  “We have heard these arguments before, Magus, and the dwarfs just do not have that kind of knowledge. Right now, in our harbour, we are countering the dwarfs’ new mighty weapon. And even if they can create a magical vortex at sea, even if it works, even if it succeeds in creating a massive wave, it will be defeated by the new barriers.”

  “You underestimate the dwarfs, just as the Council has always done,” Lucius said. “One day, they will surprise you and launch an attack for which there is no counter. But that is not what truly scares me.”

  “And what could possibly frighten a Magus of the elves?”

  “What we do, Soluun,” Lucius said. “What we, the elves, might become capable of. If we had ultimate power in our hands, just what would we do with it.”

  “Well, that is not for me to say and, with all respect, it is not for you either. That is the very definition of the role the Council plays in our civilisation.”

  “I know, Soluun. I know.”

  “It troubles us that you have these doubts. You should be proud of your accomplishments, not thinking about retiring.”

  “I have played my part, and have no wish to bring closer the end I am beginning to foresee. A quiet life in the Great Forest is what I crave now.”

  “Cataloguing wildlife and training the growth of trees?” Soluun said, not without a measure of scorn.

  “Well, there will be rather more to it than that.”

  “Either way, we will be looking to you to finish your current work before you can depart.”

  Lucius took a deep breath and then walked to one of the cabinets that sat between his books. Opening its two doors, he became aware that Soluun had moved up next to him, and was now gazing inside the cabinet.

  “Guardian Starlight,” Soluun said under his breath, almost reverently.

  Inside, nestled on a tray carved from a single block of ivory, were a dozen marble and gold rods, identical to the one Lucius had found in the ruins.

  “The power you have invested in these weapons is almost a holy thing,” Soluun said.

  “We abandoned religion aeons ago, and with good reason,” Lucius said sharply. “Would you have us go back to the pagan beliefs practised by the primitive human tribes?”

  “I stand corrected, Magus. But your work here has unmatched beauty.”

  “I find them repulsive. They are, however, yours, whenever you need them.”

  “You have the gratitude of the Council, Magus,” Soluun said. “And our final victory will be ascribed to you. Of course, if Guardian Starlight fails...’

  Lucius looked at the elf, an expression of utter dismay crossing his face, completely unbidden.

  “Don’t tell me the Council went ahead with the contingency.”

  “We have the utmost fai
th in you, Magus,” Soluun said.

  “That is madness,” Lucius said after a pause in which he rattled the dread possibilities through his mind. “Utter madness!”

  NOT WANTING TO inadvertently set off some mundane trap a clever elf might have left behind, Adrianna had confined her movements only to the sections of the chamber she and Lucius had already walked. After the first half-hour, she had retreated to the stairs leading out of the chamber and sat on the top flight. From there she would be able to see both Lucius’ return, and the coming of any inquisitive guards. God help them.

  More than an hour had passed, she was sure, and she drummed the fingers of her right hand upon her knee as she waited. She had always thought that if great harm befell Lucius, she would somehow feel it. After all, they had spent enough time together and she had learned how his presence shifted the flow of magic around her. Here, in elven ruins surrounded by Old Race magic, however, she could not be so sure that any break in their connection would make itself known to her.

  She was not worried for Lucius’ safety – she would not allow herself to feel that emotion – but his death and failure in this place would cause her some problems. First, the Guardian Starlight might remain forever beyond her reach, and that was an artefact she desperately wanted to get her hands on.

  Just the thought of holding the artefact and plumbing the depths of its mysteries caused a rare feeling of joy to surge through her. She likened it to first learning what a Shadowmage was capable of and seeing her first attempts, clumsy as they were, at casting simple spells.

  She expected the arrival of the Guardian Starlight, and the awesome magical power it contained, to mark another great shift in her. Everything that had transpired before would be as nothing compared to what she would attain thereafter.

  If Lucius returned with the artefact, of course.

  It had also occurred to her that life in Turnitia might get more difficult without Lucius as well. The Shadowmages formed a trinity with the thieves and beggars, but Adrianna was under no illusion that it was the thieves and, specifically, Lucius that held them all together. There was no way that she could work with that idiot child Grennar and as powerful as the Shadowmages had become, there was much the guild could not do if unsupported by the thieves and beggars.

  That would be the first thing to change when she unlocked the power of the Guardian Starlight, she promised herself.

  Movement from down in the chamber startled her, and Adrianna leapt up to a half-crouch, a spell already winding its way to her fingertips. She snuffed the arcane energies out when she saw Lucius stagger through the large doors on the far side of the chamber.

  Running down the stairs, eager to see what he had found, Adrianna saw that he appeared uninjured but, more importantly, he clasped a rod of marble and gold in his hand. She suddenly felt the waves of magic flowing from the artefact and gasped at how deep and strong they ran. It was if the rod was the centre of the entire world and its presence could change anything it touched.

  Wiping the shock off her face, Adrianna gave a smile of welcome as Lucius looked up at her.

  “Safe and whole then,” she said. “And you found it.”

  Lucius sank to his knees, breathing heavily. Wearily, he raised his hand to brandish the rod.

  And then Adrianna winced as the strength left Lucius’ arm and the rod fell, striking the chamber floor hard.

  “Careful,” she said as she grabbed him under the shoulder and helped him stand, though even she could not tell whether she was speaking of Lucius or the artefact.

  Adrianna led Lucius to the foot of the stairs and helped him sit down.

  “There is something wrong, Aidy,” he said, beginning to recover his breath.

  “What do you mean?”

  Hand on his chest to steady his breathing, Lucius began to tell her what he had seen, first in the great hall below them, and then the strange dream – he could think of no other way to describe it.

  When he had finished, Adrianna sat back from him, contemplating his words and studying the Guardian Starlight.

  “Well, there is obviously some connection between you and the artefact,” she said.

  “How can that be?”

  “I always said you were special!”

  He looked up at her, a dour expression on his face. “Is that really the best explanation you can give me?”

  “It is the best I can give you right now,” she said. “However, we will have time on the way back to deliver that thing to the baron. Time enough for us to do a little testing and perhaps get you some answers. You do... still intend giving it to the baron?”

  “I said I would deliver it, Adrianna, and I will.”

  “This is your commission, Lucius,” she said, trying to placate him. “I only wanted to come here to see how elven ruins might appear, to get a sense of the magic within. You want to fulfil your obligations, that is no business of mine.”

  He continued to look at her, balefully. She felt obliged to continue speaking.

  “If it turns out that thing has some value, I’ll make a deal with the baron. I am sure I possess things he wants for himself.”

  “Right,” Lucius said after holding her eyes for a while longer.

  “So,” Adrianna said as she stood, “we best get out of here. We have what you came for, and I have no wish to battle half the Vos army in trying to leave. Let’s get back to the city.”

  As they retraced their steps down the long corridor leading out of the ruins, Adrianna’s mind whirled with possibilities. Just what was the connection between Lucius and the elves? It went far deeper than just the Guardian Starlight, that had been made clear when he had been able to pass the barrier below but she had not.

  That was troubling, for whatever that connection was, it would likely prove necessary in unlocking the power of the Guardian Starlight, and she was not altogether sure Lucius would be a willing participant.

  One thing was clear though. She had never, in her life, seen something she wanted to possess more than that artefact.

  Whatever transpired, she vowed, it would be hers.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  THE SERGEANT STOMPED up the mud bank to Alhmanic, and the Preacher Divine did not need to see the expression on his face to sense dissent in the air.

  “My Lord,” the sergeant said, and Alhmanic could hear the struggle in his voice to keep his words neutral. “My men have not been trained to perform this sort of labour.”

  This mission had been a frustration. Even now, when they were within spitting distance of their goal, his efforts had been stymied by elven magic and a few tons of mud. Mud!

  The interrogation of the Pontaine soldiers had pointed them in the right direction but Alhmanic had arrogantly assumed his divinely enchanted staff was superior to any protection a Pontaine wizard could give, and so he had marched a squad of his own men to the underground entrance of the elven outpost and ordered them to open the doors.

  As it turned out, elven magic saw his arcane defences as no obstacle at all, and the sudden vaporisation of the soldiers had robbed the rest of his force of their high morale after the defeat of the Pontaine army.

  He had even thought himself clever by trying to dig around the entrance, to break into some chamber beyond that point, deeper within the ruins, but despite having sunk two holes into the ground, both of which had rapidly filled with water to hamper the efforts of his men, Alhmanic had no luck. They had dug deep and had found nothing.

  Alhmanic had considered it might be some cosmic joke, whereby nothing but rock lay behind those infernal doors, and the artefact he sought was nothing but a myth. More likely accursed elf magic was somehow interfering with his efforts...

  Suddenly feeling old, Alhmanic leaned on his staff before he opened his eyes and looked at the sergeant.

  “Sergeant,” he said, “your men will do as they are instructed or they can return to Scholten and explain to the Anointed Lord herself, blessed be her wisdom, just why we failed to succeed in our
mission. Especially when we are but a few yards away from the artefact we seek!

  “I realise this is not what they are trained to do, but we need men to dig, and they are the only men present. They fought admirably against Pontaine earlier, but the time for fighting is now over.”

  “Yes, my Lord. I’ll instruct the men to continue.”

  “Instruct them to work faster, or we’ll be here come winter.”

  Alhmanic felt a peculiar vibration in his staff. He looked curiously at his weapon. The blue crystal mounted in its silver-clawed tip was flickering gently, like a faint candle flame caught in a breeze.

  The sergeant looked quizzically at him, but Alhmanic ignored the man as he tried to recall his staff acting this way before. He could only think of it reacting to the presence of some of the relics kept in the deepest vaults of Scholten cathedral, those most precious possessions of saints long gone. Frowning, Alhmanic played a hunch and lifted his staff up high before slamming its butt down hard into the soft earth. Immediately, it almost leapt out of his hand as it strained to pull away from him, and it took a firm grip to hold it in place.

  “Gather your men – quickly!” Alhmanic shouted at his sergeant.

  So saying, Alhmanic stormed away from the fresh excavations, heading towards the ruins the Pontaine force had uncovered – where the staff had been pulling him. Behind him, he could hear the sergeant shouting to rouse his men but only those closest reacted fast enough to keep up with the Preacher Divine.

  As he reached the top of the stairs that descended into the elven ruins, Alhmanic noted that only half a dozen of his soldiers had kept up with him.

  “You two, get down there,” he ordered.

  They hesitated and looked at one another.

  “My Lord?” one asked, as if he might have misheard.

  “For God’s sake, man, just go to the bottom of the stairs, you needn’t go anywhere near those blasted doors!” Alhmanic roared, and his anger was enough to make them lose their inhibitions and brave the darkness.

  Impatiently, Alhmanic waited, resisting the impulse to start pacing. Moments passed, and the group of soldiers around the top of the stairs began to swell as more joined them. Finally, the sergeant brought up the rear with the rest of his men. Still, there had been no sign of the two Alhmanic had dispatched down the stairs.