by Glen Cook
There was something behind me, though. I just could not turn fast enough to find out what.
Turning did inform me that I had some control, which I exercised immediately by wishing myself out of that place. Naturally, the move failed to be an improvement.
I went to the caverns of ice and old men. Those ancients made no sound but they were bickering. Something was in the wind. The smell of Kina was strong there, too, but she was nowhere to be seen.
Some of those old boys had their eyes open. They watched me as I passed.
Again I had the feeling that there was something behind me but saw nothing when I looked back.
I did have control. I followed the tunnel, eventually reached the place where the Books of the Dead rested upon their lecterns. The first, which the Daughter of Night had been transcribing, was now open to a page near the beginning.
The stink of Kina was particularly strong there.
I had no business in that place. There was nothing I wanted there.
Except out.
I tried to recall how I had gotten away last time. By just wanting to do it badly enough, I guess.
Darkness came.
It reminded me of something Narayan Singh said one time: “Darkness always comes.”
It seemed I was in the darkness a long time. Fear began to build. I reflected on just how right Narayan had to be.
Though it might wear a thousand different names in a thousand different times, and might come from a thousand different directions, darkness always comes.
When the light came back I found myself way up high above everything again. So high up, I was above the clouds that had been moving in as I headed for bed, leaving me at the mercy of those unfamiliar stars.
I picked out the ghoulish dagger constellation in the north, took a guess at the direction I had followed before, put on all the speed I could and dived into the clouds. In moments I was down where treetops whisked right under where my love handles would have hung had I had any belly at all. I thought I could learn to enjoy this—if I could just get rid of the feeling that something was close behind me and gaining.
There were no lights down there this time. The whole world smelled of fear, as though every rock and animal and tree sensed something dire about to happen. I located a village. The entire population was wide awake, despite the hour. They huddled in frightened clumps, babies clutched tightly, livestock gathered into their homes with them. They did not talk much. The children whimpered.
How could they know what was happening at Overlook? Was there some prophecy or something that said tonight was the night the Shadowgate would go down? Had there been signs and portents unseen by me? Did they know anything at all? Maybe their terror had nothing to do with Shadowmasters or the Black Company.
I streaked onward. Far, far ahead the occasional spark flipped into the sky. Those had to be the home fires burning.
The quarrel with the shadows was not over.
It was a long night.
The Shadowgate had not collapsed. Not yet. Longshadow was still alive.
I recalled having no problems getting close to any she is the darkness when I did not have Smoke along. I headed for the flickering remnant of Longshadow’s crystal chamber.
Soulcatcher was on her feet and in nasty form, carping at Howler. The screaming wizard hardly knew where he was. “Come on, you worthless ball of rags!” Catcher raged in a fishwife’s voice. “We’ve got to get out of here before my beloved sister realizes the lovely chance she’s missing!”
Her darling sister was on her way already, thanks to me. I was surprised she was taking so long. She seemed to have grown cautious in the last hour. Of course, she did have to slither through a long tunnel, then wander around a dark fortress, then make a long climb, all the while making sure no little shadows jumped on her back.
Howler let out a groggy, interrogative sort of cry. He was not yet clear on where he was or how he had gotten there. He concentrated on getting his feet back under him.
Catcher had to keep her back clean, too. She cast some little spell that sent a worm of light slithering into all the dark places in that tossed salad of a chamber. It rooted out several tiny shadows. They evaded the light easily. Soulcatcher cursed. “Damned thing isn’t fast enough!” The shadows darted at Longshadow, who was in far worse shape than Howler. He was, however, more in touch with what was happening around him. He whispered a cantrip before the darknesses reached his shell. The little shadows spun and went after the invaders.
This battle would not end while he was alive, apparently. He was a stubborn shit.
Soulcatcher cuffed Howler around the ears. The fishwife’s shrill insisted, “Come on! This place is going to be your death if we don’t get—” She sensed imminent danger. Lady was not far away now. “It’s her.” New voice. Baffled, frightened, childlike. “How does she dare? She can’t have any real powers anymore. It doesn’t work that way.”
Lady was in the stairwell now. She did not seem afraid of a confrontation with her little sister at all.
She carried a bundle of short bamboo poles.
So did the dozen men behind her. They would be able to launch a small blizzard of fireballs. Those at the rear of the party backed up the steps. They kept poles ready to discharge at anything coming up behind them. The smell of fear grew stronger than the lingering perfume of Kina.
Soulcatcher thumped Howler a few more times, trying to get him to come alert. He remained too groggy to be much use.
She turned to the doorway. With some small but well-chosen spell she sealed it, then resumed trying to get Howler into shape for a flying escape.
The small shadows had gone into hiding again.
The door began to glow. Its surface rippled colorfully, according to the hue of the fireballs hitting its far side.
Soulcatcher produced a knife and slit Howler’s clothing. I did not understand till she found what she was looking for. That proved to be a piece of silk, four feet by six when she spread it, and a little bundle of sticks. The silk rectangle became almost rigid when she spoke a certain word. It floated up off the floor like it was floating on the surface of a gently rippling pool. Soulcatcher broke the bundle of sticks and assembled them into a framework on which she stretched the silk. She muttered as she worked. The whole thing seemed much too fragile but in a minute she grabbed the Daughter of Night and clambered aboard. The carpet sagged but held their weight.
Sputtering, jerking like he was having a seizure, Howler staggered toward his stolen emergency conveyance. I wondered if this was his final secret or if he still had more flying tricks up his sleeves. I bet it was something like that piece of silk that got him out of dying, back when they thought he had crashed at high speed into the side of the Tower at Charm.
Soulcatcher did something incredibly violent. Most of the tower top vanished inside a globe of white light. The flare was so brilliant it betrayed every shadow slithering through the night but temporarily blinded half the men trying to exterminate them.
When the light faded a third of the tower’s crystal roof no longer existed. Soulcatcher snagged Howler by the hair, dragged him onto the carpet, said some word that started the tiny thing moving.
It began to sink almost immediately. It barely cleared the turret. Then it went down, down, toward the unfriendly folks and unfriendlier shadows hunting one another amongst the rocks below. Catcher did not want to go down there but the carpet was overloaded. It was designed to help the runt get out of a tight spot, not him and all his friends and neighbors.
The smell of Kina grew stronger again. The whirlwind of rage was coming back for one more try.
The goddess did not want her daughter carried off.
The brat’s eyes were closed inside her egg. That had proven to be flexible and slick when Soulcatcher was slinging it around. The kid’s face bore that serene expression she got when she was communing with Kina.
Lady and her cohorts burst into the chamber where Longshadow and Narayan Singh still
groaned and twitched. Fireballs routed the small shadows instantly. Seconds later a stream of fireballs reached down for Catcher and her companions. None hit home but they did alert our troops that something was on the fly. Anything that flew would not be friendly.
Kina’s interest and anger heightened fast. A hurricane screamed in the ghostworld. Her stench leaked over into the real world. Men heaved up their last meals. The sky darkened more than the night and clouds insisted.
The earth shook.
* * *
The throne shudders and slips a thousandth of an inch. The tortured figure groans. Its blind eyes flutter.
One crow cackles.
The bird fails to recall that it dares not rest. Its claws touch down atop the sleeper’s head. Before its wings finish folding it begins to scream. Small shadows have found it. They squabble over its life force joyfully.
The earth shivers. There is no silence anymore. Stone is broken. It continues to break. The light in the abyss is brighter. Pastel, gossamer mists rise like the questing tentacles of a sea anemone.
There is color. There is life, of a sort. There is light.
There is death. The crow shrieks out its pained outrage. And dies.
Death will find a way. Darkness will find a way inside.
Darkness always comes.
70
It took me a while to realize that the shaking was neither imaginary nor metaphorical. The earth was shaking. This was a genuine badass earthquake as nasty as the one that had destroyed Kiaulune and much of the Shadowlands back before we headed south. Panic filled the air of the ghost world, apparently a divine panic on Kina’s part. Her stink took on a whole new air.
Who ever heard of a god being scared?
Fireballs continued to scar the night.
I watched Lady and her people stagger around as they collected Singh and Longshadow. They were extremely careful with both. Lady knew just how dangerous each could be. She had been both in her time.
She wanted to hurl some special farewell after her sister but before she could get a spell woven an aftershock rattled the fortress. Pieces began to fall off the battered tower. Lady decided it might be an opportune time to head downstairs and get out to ground where things were less likely to fall on her.
I decided it would be a good time to get back out and talk to Croaker. Then I recalled that I was not riding Smoke now so I did not have that kind of control. I could not force myself awake.
* * *
I decided to stick with Soulcatcher and her companions. It would be useful to know where she settled down to regain control enough to surround herself in mists and repulsions again.
For a second, as I went over the lip of the tower into the abyss of night, I thought I felt Smoke whiningly trying to shy away from the tower. Maybe I was getting too accustomed to being close to that little chickenshit.
The smell of Kina grew stronger, faded, grew stronger, as though the goddess was hunting blindly. Her anger never abated.
Soulcatcher managed to nag Howler awake enough to lend a hand keeping the carpet aloft. As soon as he had half his wits collected they began bickering. They must have gotten loud because the fireballs began streaking much closer.
Those things had a power that extended beyond the mortal plane, that was sure. I found out the hard way, by giving in to a childish temptation. I allowed one to go zipping through what, roughly, was my body space.
The pain was terrible. I felt what the shadows must feel when hit. But the fireball did not attach itself to me the way it did the shadows—though its momentum did drop dramatically enough for me to notice even in my agony.
I was not going to pull that damnfool trick again.
Catcher and Howler almost evaded me after I began to watch the fireballs too closely. But those that darted up after Howler’s racket kept her trail warm.
She was heading for that same canyon where she had holed up all winter. It was unlikely that she would stay there long, though. We knew where it was.
I caught up. I could make some time out there when I concentrated.
Maybe I got too close. Soulcatcher seemed, suddenly, to realize that she was being watched. She stopped the carpet and spun it around. Even in the darkness I could feel the intensity of her glare. “Howler!” she snapped. “Do you feel something strange?”
Bad move, that. It encouraged the stinky little wizard to open his mouth. A grand howl ripped out when he did. Catcher had stopped right above some of the Prahbrindrah Drah’s fugitives. They were very nervous men.
The first fireballs up illuminated the carpet well enough for other snipers to take better aim. Hardly had Howler gotten his mouth under control than a fireball winged him. He shrieked again. And lost his concentration.
The carpet began to slide toward the ground. Soulcatcher cursed in a cranky old man’s voice, fought it. A fireball nearly parted her raven hair. Enraged, she opened her mouth to pronounce some deadly retribution.
The carpet began to fall.
Catcher shrieked in frustration, threw out a booted foot and pushed Howler off the edge of the carpet. He yelled angrily. Catcher grumbled an unfriendly goodbye. The carpet stopped falling. Muttering control spells, Catcher got it moving again. The boys on the ground never stopped sniping.
A fireball passed through the carpet between Soulcatcher and the Daughter of Night.
Kina, while unable to catch up and hammer Catcher, seemed to be aware of events. A whirlwind of rage filled the shadow world. A glimmer of the multiarmed idol began to show through on our side. It never coalesced completely but did materialize enough to send the Taglian loyalists running whatever direction they happened to be facing.
Howler howled. He plummeted toward the earth. He always was a lucky little shit and his luck held now. First he plunged through the branches of some heavy evergreens. They whipped the pudding out of him but slowed his fall. Then he smashed into a hillside still covered with unmelted snow. That was deep enough that he vanished into it.
I had not one doubt that he would be up and dancing like a dervish before lunchtime. And likely in a mood to show Soulcatcher just how much he loved her.
I sniffed around for a few minutes, marking the spot. Howler did nothing. I figured I had better go try to wake up. This looked like a once-in-a-lifetime chance either to recruit a first-line wizard or to put him out of our misery forever.
I suspected Croaker would prefer the latter option. We had had too many unfriendly encounters with the Howler over the years.
* * *
Did I mention Howler’s luck? I could not wake up. Evidently my spirit had no power over my body when that wanted to sleep. It looked like I had to keep wandering, want to or not.
I recalled last year when I had gone off without even being asleep. When Soulcatcher somehow pried me loose by means unknown and for a purpose I never divined. Which she might do to me again. Particularly if anything I had done lately had caught her attention.
There was a good chance the whole thing had been just a game to her, something to while away some time while fragments of her scheme fell into place. Or maybe she had been experimenting. Or both things, and maybe more. What we know for sure about Catcher is that she walks in chaos and her motives are changeable.
* * *
I must be driven. I figured that as long as I had to stay out there I ought to keep scouting around. Working in my sleep. Ought to have the Old Man double my pay. How much is two times a stab in the back?
The Prince was making good time. He was headed straight up the road north, which was the only reason I found him. A whole mob of his guys were running with him. And they did keep moving briskly.
Shadows larked around them like wolves on the hunt for dangerous game. It was a running fight. The Prince’s men did not have many bamboo poles but whenever one of the crowd began shrieking he died of fireballitis before the attacking shadows could finish their cruel work.
I wasted no time looking for Mogaba or Goblin. Too much work to find
them. Maybe after it got light. Which it ought to be starting by now, only the clouds were so heavy.
I headed back toward Overlook.
Everywhere I went I saw evidence of the latest earthquake: landslides, toppled trees, a collapsed bridge the southerners had rebuilt after the last quake, then had cast down so we could not use it so Cletus and his brothers had had to put it up again. And lots of shelters knocked over or fallen in. And cracks in the ground. And even some damage to Overlook, up where Longshadow had bickered with his pals and then everybody had quarreled with Kina.
As I closed in a large block of white stone slipped out of Longshadow’s tower and plunged toward the foot of the wall. Several more followed quickly. The tower seemed to wobble slightly, as if made of gelatin instead of stone. Then I realized I was seeing an aftershock in progress. Or maybe a temblor even bigger than the last.
Shit! Was the whole damned fortress going to come tumbling down? Lady and her crew were still inside. No. Not possible. No earthquake was going to lay Overlook low. It was just too massive. Practically speaking, there was hardly anywhere for it to fall since it was more stone than empty volume.
Longshadow’s workbenches and mystery engines began to shift.
71
A jet of white fire spurted skyward, ripped open the bellies of the low-hanging clouds. Even in the ghostworld I could hear the roar of energy being released. Crystal near the jet vanished in blue puffs. Farther away it melted and ran like candle wax. It dripped. I saw a glob plummet into a pail of water, sizzle. Right then I decided that if I survived I would climb that tower—if it survived—and claim that marble as a souvenir.
The jet faded from white to yellow to red, then went dark, but the heat was still there, squirting away less violently, for a while. The Shadowmaster had had a lot of power stashed atop that tower.
Everything burnable in the remains of the chamber was now on fire. Several small shadows scuttled hither and yon. They seemed unwilling to leave despite the disaster. Maybe they were domesticated.
The first raindrops fell. Those passing through the invisible energy jet sizzled into steam.