The whole attack lasted a minute. He counted at least seven people slain. The infected set about their grisly task of feeding. Elias could hear their snarling and see the flash of their teeth.
He backed away from his vantage point and staying crouched, returned to Spirit. Looking over his shoulder, making sure he was not followed, he headed back to the coast. His thoughts were with Moose. He hoped the big man was having more luck than him.
If not, the plague would find them and soon.
~
Calim Dove could not control the blight. The rogue angel had disappeared too. The Magisters were uneasy. They had already advanced in the east against the Raven. They did not need a threat from behind. Containment of the plague had become a priority. Three of the western Magisters had left their palaces to root out the heart of the plague in Nictiam.
The Magisters would succeed thought Calim. It would be a diversion and distract them from the real threat. He felt assured; Satkir's host, Travin, was doing well. He had tolerated and even accepted Satkir's essence. Travin had been the unknown, the wild card. Calim Dove was no longer able to influence Travin, but he knew Satkir's essence would not rest until it had revenge.
He knew this, as he was coming to know his own desires. He did not fear death; it would be welcome. It would mean an end to this endless numbness, this endless servitude. The Magisters would pass into history as all great power eventually did. But not without a struggle, not without a fight. He would exert his remaining influence over the girl, Luana. She must awaken the archangel to bring the fight to the Magisters. Luana was key.
The Seven would be recalled from their dimensions, they would unite under the archangel and be a force the Magisters would fear. With the Raven on their eastern flank and the angels to the west and north, it was Calim's revenge for what the Magisters had done to his parents. His mother and father would welcome him into their arms when they met again on the other side.
In the meantime, he would assist the Magisters in their empire building. Calim Dove set out for the great hall to relay his second sight to Magister Nix; his first served. She would look into his eyes and read the future; she would feed on this and in turn, take another piece of his soul in the process.
Magister Nix would not look into his past, for he had no past; he had been pacified. He was clean, an empty vessel.
He felt his mother's memory stir, somewhere deep in his heart.
CHAPTER 11
Fingal Rake
Magister Nix felt the power of her creation; the rock golem. It was difficult to control, its intelligence limited. A blunt tool. She concentrated hard to bend it to her will. It resisted her, at times wanting to return to the rock below the surface. She thrust more thrall magic into its elemental nature, it responded. She relished the feeling of control, of bending its will to her demands.
This would lead to ultimate power for the Magisters. When she controlled the four horizons, she would use Erthe power and blend it with thrall magic. That fusion had never been achieved before; it was hinted at in the book that guided her. Whispers in words from those Magisters who had gone before her.
She could see her dream coming closer. She would raise Anurein, her lover, with the Rhapsody Spell. She needed the crystal heart of the Raven to access the spell. She would rule this new world with unforgiving power; with thrall magic. A thousand years and more stretched out for the taking. Her heart sang with the intoxication of her dream.
She saw through the golem's eyes. It had reached the Raven city of Eleanir. The golem was deaf to the sounds of this world but its vision was good, she could see Raven tribesmen and women running to the safety of their walls. They would soon learn there was nowhere to hide from Magister power.
She pushed the golem hard; it climbed the rocky prominentary upon which Eleanir sat, looking out across the desert plains. The golem reached the city gates and paused. Magister Nix breathed in tasting the moment; anticipation filled her being. She gave her instructions and the golem pounded the gates, smashing them in minutes.
Nix drove the elemental forwards into the city, her next objective; the walls of the citadel. The golem lurched up the main thoroughfare into the city's heart. It crushed homes and buildings like toys, under its feet. Screams rose from those it trampled. The air filled with death, flames took hold of the city.
The golem hammered on the citadel's walls. The citadel was strong, built with a high entrance, set back deep within massive walls. This would take longer, but Nix had time. Her army waited on the plains to the west; they would find the city razed and ready for the taking. Another Magister's palace to add to her empire.
The first cracks began to appear in the walls. The golem redoubled its efforts. Magister Nix allowed a cruel smile to flicker across her face. She licked her lips and thought of Anurein in her arms.
To conquer death and life, to achieve immortality.
It was all within her reach.
~
Travin had a busy few days meeting the other elders who would play a part in his scheme. They all swore allegiance to him, enthused at the thought of venturing into the southlands. Not since their ancestors' disastrous southern incursion an age ago, had any northerner dared set foot beyond the frontier.
The Magisters had repelled the frost giants with their purple fire; a grim weapon, ruthless and effective. It had taken the frost giants two generations to recover from the effects of Magister fire. Their ranks were decimated, the clans weakened. Bad blood existed between the Magisters and the giants; revenge would be sweet. A celebration was planned that evening; the various clans and their elders would meet outside the tented complex for a great feast.
Travin had an ache in his heart. A long lost love, a half remembered trace of passion for another. Satkir's essence would not leave him alone. He had to see her, he had to see the girl Satkir once knew and loved. A forbidden love, it would be dangerous and could threaten all he wanted to achieve. He could not put it down; it poisoned his mind and needed closure. He resolved to find Jativa; Jotkim's daughter, and lay to rest the question that burned deep within his heart.
Daylight faded and the northern sky filled with shimmering sheets of green and yellow lights from the gods' halls. The northern display was followed by the cold light of the stars. The giants gathered and lit their fires. Sparks and flames spit high into the air. Shouting and singing deafened Travin. Cups of fiery ale flowed seemingly without end. Even the war dogs were given ale to drink; their baying added to the cacophony.
Travin knew the giants could fight at a moment's notice; even under the influence of their ale, they were a formidable force. He told himself to relax and enjoy the evening. He would let things unfold and choose his moment. He would find out what had happened to Jativa by subtle enquiry.
As the evening wore on, he found himself in conversation with a talkative warrior, a friend of Jotkim's. Travin sensed his moment was near.
"More ale Folain? You're running dry friend. Here…" Travin replenished Folain's cup. "Tell me of Jotkim and his family; I used to go hunting with his sons and there was a daughter who worked on the clan prophecies?"
Folain nodded becoming serious. "Jotkim lost Glavin, his youngest; a hunting accident. It affected him badly, he wasn't right for years. Jativa finally managed to bring him out of it. She's back in the clan heartland delving into the prophecies. She's made it her life's work. They say she's close to a breakthrough. They've been saying that for years..."
"She's alone?" Travin threw in the question innocently.
Folain took a pull on his ale and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. He looked long at Travin before he spoke. "Tread carefully my friend. Jativa is wed to no one; she's given her life to the prophecies. She's wed to them."
Folain stared at Travin, the moment passed. He slapped Travin on the back and smiled, his yellow teeth showing through his bushy beard. "Come let's eat, there's more meat." He indicated a fresh platter containing a huge roast boar from the northern forests.
Travin raised his cup. He had found his answer. Jativa was not here. She was alone and she waited for him. He knew it in his heart and was glad. Then a thought came to him and pierced his heart. Would she accept him as Travin, even though he carried Satkir's essence? Would she recognise his love for her? He let these questions turn over in his mind. Always doubts, he wondered at life's twists and turns. He would be fluid and flow around all in his way.
He resolved to return to Jativa once the war with the Magisters was ended. It would give him focus; she was his light, his reason. His love for her and his revenge on the Magisters would be the two forces that would drive him forwards on his quest.
Travin thought of the others of Satkir's kind; the Seven. They were not of this world. They were supposed myth and legend. Except he now knew from Satkir's essence that they did exist. They had travelled to other dimensions of the Erthe, to go forth and shine light into the darkness. Satkir had been of this dimension, meeting his end at the hand of the Magisters.
Satkir was now cut off from the others. The Seven would not recognise him. He was truly a lost angel. He was lost to his kind, forgotten. However, his essence lived on through this man Travin, this host.
He would play his part in the great battle ahead.
~
Moose gathered his wits. He knew he had one chance and he needed to make his words count. His life depended on what happened in the next few minutes. He was on his knees, the pirate captain stood before him.
A woman.
"Tell me about you and Fingal Rake. Be warned, if you lie I will know. Fingal is my brother."
Moose's eyes widened, he swallowed hard and cast his mind back to the days in Numibar when he had smuggled weapons with Fingal. The armourers' guild complained to the authorities about the influx of illegal weaponry. Their activities were compromised and a raid on their warehouse had shut down their operation. He and Fingal had escaped by sheer luck.
The king's soldiers surrounded the warehouse and took everything. At the last minute, Moose brought Fingal to meet a new supplier from out of town. They were away when the raid took place. They arrived half an hour later to find the warehouse streets swarming with the city guard. They beat a hasty retreat but were spotted by an informant on the scene.
A chase ensued, ending up in a game of cat and mouse through the back streets and sewers of Numibar. The gods had been with them that night; they managed to evade capture ending up in the Lost Hills to the west of the city. From there, they made their way back to the Storm Coast by way of Nictiam. It was there that Fingal and Moose parted company; as friends.
Moose relayed his memories to the captain and finished his story. He felt exhausted, deflated. He realised his life had been a series of disasters since then. He slumped forwards and waited for his fate. He felt his heart beating; his gaze fell on a small black beetle crawling across the floor at the back of the captain's cabin.
"You speak the truth." Her voice was flat, emotionless. "Fingal and I were close. He's gone now…different. The Magisters' fleet caught him last year. He was still running with the Dark Heart crew. His luck ran out. Get up; you're amongst friends now. A friend of Fingal's is a friend of mine."
Moose hesitated and the captain put her hand on his shoulder. She spoke again.
"The old order is crumbling. Power is changing hands. No longer is the sea a safe haven for pirates. The Magisters are always a step ahead of us with their second sight. Their thrall magic is too strong.
"We've had to shun the Storm coast and retreat to remote waters; the unmapped areas. They chase us ever further from these coasts. We only stopped here to liberate these slaves and take their ship and cargo. They'll have mixed feelings when they hear what's happened to Nictiam. Come let's sit and you'll tell me your story."
Moose took a seat and felt the tension of the last few hours begin to abate; the muscles across his shoulders relaxed. He accepted the glass of port offered to him by the captain. He downed his glass in one gulp and smiled when the captain refilled it. His breathing steadied and he began to tell his tale. He covered everything, including Luana's dreams and her assertion that they were already dead.
The captain looked at him with interest on hearing his words but she kept silent. She allowed him to finish before speaking.
"So your friends are back there, on the coast. You must bring them to me. It so happens I know the waters around Echo Island; we're travelling there with the next tide. It seems, my friend, that for once the fates have smiled on us. My brother, Fingal, I said was gone. Well, he's effectively dead but his body is trapped here; he still breathes.
"If your friend is in contact with something or someone who controls this, perhaps they can help Fingal. I look forward to speaking with Luana. My crew will take you back to the beach; you'll get your friends and return to me. We set sail in three hours. We'll speak again."
The captain showed Moose to the door and he thanked her. He was taken back to the skiff and brought to the beach where he lit a signal fire. He told his escort to wait and he walked back inland retracing his steps. After thirty minutes he came to the place he had last seen Luana and Elias.
"Luana, Elias come out. All is well; they know Fingal. It worked."
Moose waited. The silence was disturbing. Something was wrong. He saw movement to his left; Luana and Elias broke cover. There was no sign of Spirit. They were crouching low and ran towards him. Luana reached him, breathless and flushed.
"Moose, we heard you. Trouble is, so did they." She pointed off in the distance and he saw a line of infected rushing towards them through the long grass.
One word left Moose's mouth. "Run!"
"Damn right, let's get out of here."
They turned and ran down the slope towards the beach. What had taken Moose thirty minutes took them half the time running at breakneck speed. They dared not look back; a fall would spell disaster.
The infected moved at an incredible pace. Almost running as fast as they were. Elias had come across a small party on the road, but others had materialised from all directions. He had out run them on Spirit and led them away from Luana's position. He set Spirit free and double backed to find Luana and warn her.
His tactics worked for a brief period and bought them some time. When Moose had not returned they decided to leave. Then Luana saw the fire on the beach and they turned back. The infected had reached them just as Moose had called out.
"I hope your pirates are ready to get us out of here," Luana shouted as they dipped down into a hollow.
Moose gave her a look and they threw their remaining strength into climbing up and out of the dunes. They flung themselves over the rise and saw the pirates had pulled the skiff back into the water and were rowing away.
"Wait! Wait!" Moose shouted.
One of the pirates waved them on.
"Come on, there's still a chance," Moose bellowed.
They flew across the sand, past the fire and into the surf. The cold water crashed all around, the tide was rising. A rip of current gripped them firmly and pulled them out towards the bobbing skiff. Luana swam strongly towards the boat reaching it without mishap. One of the pirates threw a rope to her and she caught it. He threw another rope behind her.
She felt herself being pulled towards the boat. Seawater stung her eyes and she swallowed a mouthful. Her leg cramped, she lost the strength in her arms and went under. Rough hands grabbed her and pulled her out of the water into the boat. Voices were shouting.
Several of the pirates were using billhooks to hit something in the water. Luana stared as a bony hand; flesh partially stripped away, reached up and grabbed the gunwale of the boat. A skeletal head appeared over the edge, staring at her; the infected woman's teeth were bared in a rictus of hunger.
A sickening crunch followed as one of the pirates lopped the head from its shoulders with one swipe of his cutlass. Luana felt like a drowned rat, she shivered violently. She looked around for the others. She saw Elias's body, his back to her
, unmoving on the floor of the boat. She did not see Moose. The pirates were rowing, fast and strong, away from the coast. Luana passed out.
She awoke sometime later. Her neck was sore; she reached up to find it swollen and tender. Her arms and legs were covered in bruises. A thick salve had been applied to the superficial cuts and to her lips. It was soothing at least. She was aware of rocking; they were at sea. She closed her eyes and let sleep take her.
"Luana, Luana. Wake up. It's time to see how you are." Gentle hands held her. Her eyelids fluttered, she reluctantly allowed herself to focus. Moose's familiar face looked down on her. He was smiling.
"Moose, you're alive. I thought you'd…"
Moose nodded. " I managed to get one of the ropes they threw out. Those things were all around us, in the water…on the beach, they came from nowhere. They almost dragged the skiff under. If it hadn't been for the quick thinking of the pirates and the tide, I think we'd be goners. The infected, their flesh just fell away with the seawater... it was horrible…"
Luana stared at her friend's face, reliving the fear through his words and expression. "Where's Elias?"
Moose looked down. "He made it, but caught a blow to the head. One of the pirates hit him by mistake; one of those things tried to drag him under. They were lucky to get him on board. He's still unconscious; he's lost a lot of blood. Blood made them worse...it was a close thing."
Luana slumped back on her cot. "We're at sea?"
"Yes, well under way now. The captain, Ducet, wants to meet you. I've told our story; she's taking us to Echo Island. She wonders if you can help her brother, Fingal."
Moose told Luana of his meeting with the captain. She listened, detached, hearing his words, assimilating them slowly. She realised she was emerging from a state of shock.
Moose's words made sense. They were being taken to Echo Island; to Sanctuary. The path was unfolding, the voice in her head had been right. If she could reach the archangel and awaken him, he would know what to do.
Sanctuary Page 10