The two circled warily, and smoke from the fire swirled around them.
No, not smoke. The Darkness.
They were together and apart again in an instant. I had been utterly wrong. For all Grigg’s strength and skill, Yoshana was inhumanly fast. I couldn’t imagine how he might touch her.
The Darkness coiled, flowing and striking, like a poisonous tide or a black, shapeless serpent. The Overlord charged, dark blade a blur. Grigg pivoted and struck hard, but her blade eased his aside and she was past him, striking him in the thigh on the backswing. Even as the blood started out from his leg, a line of red opened on each of his cheeks as the Darkness lashed at him.
“Dammit!” he growled.
She grinned, and again I was surprised not to see fangs in that smile.
This time he was the one to attack, and then the Darkness was in his face, and she was under and inside his guard, and the hilt of her sword caught him in the pit of his stomach. Another bloody line opened on both sides of his face, making a pair of X’s.
“Enough?” she asked lightly as she danced back, but the look on her face was wolfish.
The big Select spun his sword, scattering light and shadow. Then he took a deep, shuddering breath, and plunged it into the ground.
“Yeah, that’ll just about do it.”
Yoshana laughed. “One of these days you’ll manage to hit me and you’ll split me open like a melon.”
He shook his head. “If it hasn’t happened yet I don’t think it’s going to.”
The Darkness faded. As I watched, the wounds on Grigg’s face and leg closed.
He looked at me. “Safe enough if we’re careful. Still hurts like a bastard, though.” He circled the fire and sat next to Yoshana, who leaned against him.
I looked up just in time to catch the stick Erev tossed at me. “Let’s see if he teaches better than he fights.”
Grigg answered the sneer with a slow smile and put his arm around Yoshana.
I got to my feet and we squared off. Erev would be tough as old leather stretched over wood. I was sure he was strong - but he couldn’t be as strong as Grigg. And he was a couple of inches shorter than me. I’d meet his first attack, and then I’d decide how to deal with him.
That’s what my head told me. My guts were turning watery again.
The Knight of Resurrection came in fast with an overhead strike I turned easily enough. But unlike the technique Grigg and I practiced, this engagement wasn’t strike, parry, riposte and disengage. Instead, another blow followed, and another, falling like hail.
Off balance, I gave ground. I stopped each swing and thrust but the next came instantly. The wood of my stick dug painfully into my palm with each strike.
Then my feet were out from under me and I was on my back, all the breath whooshing out of me. Erev had backed me into a fallen log and I’d tripped over it.
“Guess not,” he said.
I clumsily regained my feet. My face was hot. Erev had already turned his back to me and was putting his stick in my saddlebag. For a second I wanted to demand a rematch. But even I knew it would sound petulant and childish, and I might easily be defeated again. I had already embarrassed Grigg and myself enough. So I sank down by the fire instead, staring into the flames.
Roshel settled next to me before I realized she had moved. She put a hand on my arm and leaned close.
“Don’t worry about Erev. He’s not a factor,” she murmured softly.
I turned. This close, even in the firelight, I could see her dark eyes were brown rather than black. I swallowed. “What do you mean?”
She moved her shoulders in a little shrug. “Yoshana told you about understanding the players in this game. Of course she’s one. Grigg and I are too. And your Prophetess, even though she may not know it. Erev isn’t a player. He’s just a piece on the board.”
I thought about that. I looked down, realized where my glance was going and met her eyes again. She wore a little smile.
“And what am I?” I asked.
“That depends on what you want to be.”
The order of march changed. Grigg spent most of his time at the front of the column with Yoshana, though at night he still trained with me. I wondered if he did it to annoy Erev - that certainly seemed to be one effect. I hadn’t realized the Select was romantically attached to the Overlord, but now it was obvious.
Roshel had taken his place at the back, with me. I can’t say I objected to the change. She still exerted a powerful attraction, but I was getting used to having her close. She was easy to talk to. And though she was an Overlord herself, sharing the same half-demon heritage as Yoshana, she in no way looked inhuman. She was far less intimidating than her leader, or even than Grigg. I knew she commanded the Darkness, and I didn’t doubt she could handle a sword. But she didn’t seem likely to spontaneously murder me.
As the countryside grew more hospitable, we began to encounter towns and villages where we could spend the night. Yoshana paid, and at least as far as I know, she didn’t use the Darkness to slaughter the innkeepers after we left.
But then, why would she? We were firmly in Stephen’s territory, and she was Stephen’s hand now. Or maybe the hand behind Stephen.
Civilization began to thin, though, as we approached the Sorrows. By the time the mountains rose into a wall of forested slopes in front of us, all sign of human habitation had faded away. It wasn’t like that in the Green Heart, where I had grown up. People had built into the very foothills of the range. But according to Yoshana, the Darkness was thicker here in the north - and I had no reason to doubt her when it came to the Darkness.
Our shadows were stretched out long in front of the horses when the road began to rise and the trees closed in around us. I asked Roshel, “Wouldn’t it make sense to stop for the night? Before we get into… that?” I waved my hand at the tree-shrouded hills.
Yoshana was twenty yards in front of us and conversing with Grigg. She shouldn’t have heard me. But I wasn’t surprised when she turned in the saddle and said, “Don’t worry, we’ve got a destination tonight.”
Then she added, “You’re right to be afraid of the Sorrows. But this is the last night we’ll be safe. This would be the time to turn back.”
Could I do that and live? It was very tempting to find out.
Erev smirked. “If you’re scared, I’m sure Roshel will hold your hand.”
I scowled at him and any chance I might have had to leave was gone.
The road grew steeper, the trees closer. The clopping of the horses’ hooves echoed back at us. I stole a glance over my shoulder at the sun-dappled grasslands behind. Ahead there was only the encroaching shadow of the trees. And the Darkness.
The hills formed a solid barrier in front us, dark and forbidding. I abruptly realized the road went into them, not over them. A tunnel mouth gaped in our path, black as a demon’s heart.
We’re going in there? The words didn’t quite make it out of my mouth. If they had, they would have squeaked.
The lightless passage was terrifying, but wide and mercifully short. No sooner did we emerge than Yoshana swung her horse off to the right side of the path and vanished into the trees. The rest of the column followed, and I found myself on a narrower, steeper track. At my right hand the land climbed up, a long outcrop of rock dotted with shrubs and trees, a hill taller than the one we’d just passed through. To the left it fell away back into the forest. The road was wide enough for a cart, but I nervously edged my mount to the right side of the trail.
We circled as we ascended, at last reaching an arch of coarse stone. Coal smoldered sullenly in iron braziers set into the rock. Beyond was a small, level space, and then the path turned into wide steps, roughly carved into a sheer cliff face. Yoshana had already dismounted and was leading her horse up. I noticed she was hooded.
How safe was this, really?
The horses didn’t like the steps and didn’t seem to care for the cliff walls rising to either side of us. They balked and j
erked at their leads, their eyes rolling nervously. The Knights of Resurrection struggled with the pack animals. Roshel moved forward and laid a hand on each horse’s head, and they quieted.
Mine didn’t seem nervous. He just set his hooves and refused to move. I climbed a couple of steps ahead of him and jerked on the reins. “Come on, stupid,” I growled. “Unless you want the Darkness crawling around inside your head.”
The words couldn’t have meant anything to his dim mind, but he took something from my tone. Reluctantly he followed me up. “I’m not too thrilled about this either,” I muttered.
The stairs curved which, combined with the walls of stone rising to either side, made it impossible to see what was ahead. Brom of Icefall was a rank amateur compared to whoever had devised this approach. We had no visibility climbing up; all a defender had to do was roll a big rock down the stairway. I found myself fervently hoping Yoshana was probing ahead with the Darkness. It’s a lot more comfortable to reflect on the morality of your allies’ methods when you aren’t being crushed by your enemies.
My gelding didn’t like the steps any better now that he was partway up. He tossed his head, nearly pulling me backwards. “Cut it out,” I snapped. “You’re going to break both our fool necks if you try to back your way down now.”
Which was true enough. The only way was forward. I yanked hard on the reins, wishing I’d asked Roshel to calm the animal with the Darkness. Part of me wished she’d done the same to me.
Did Yoshana control her troops that way? Did they march into battle incapable of feeling fear?
The cleft in the rock straightened, and even as it did, I practically walked into the back of Roshel’s mount. We had halted on the stair.
I edged around the horse and looked up. Another stone arch stood above us, but this one was closed by a wrought iron gate. Braziers were set here as well, but there were more of them. On the other side of the gate stood three men.
Two held long poles topped with torches, each in the form of a brass crucifix. Flames licked up from a reservoir of oil to cover the metal, spreading over the limbs of the crucified Christ. I had seen these torches before at the other edge of the Source. I hadn’t liked them then, and the people who had wielded them hadn’t been friendly.
Standing between those two, the third man was huge, as large as Grigg. He was no Select, though, pale skinned with a shaggy mane of dirty blond hair. In one hand he held a curved knife, in the other a revolver, crude-looking but of a ridiculously large caliber.
“That all of you?” he asked when he saw me. “Welcome to World’s End. I’m Hafnum Furat. Travelers are welcome.” I could hear a “but” at the end. I wondered if those torches would keep the Darkness from infecting him and his men. I doubted it. His defenses might be better than Brom’s, but I didn’t think the outcome would be.
“I’ll need your arms to test for the Darkness.” He hefted the knife. The light from the torches played on the edge.
“You don’t need to do that,” Yoshana said.
“And why not?” Furat had the easy assurance of the man on the high ground, behind a gate, with a gun. A lot like Brom’s assurance, in fact.
“Because I can tell you we’re quite thoroughly infected.” The Overlord threw back her hood.
“Oh. Oh!” The big man’s hand went to a ring of keys at his belt. He realized that hand held his gun, looked at the other hand clutching the knife, and stared at both in embarrassment, as though wondering how the weapons could possibly have come into his possession. Unable to decide which to holster first, he dropped them both, then fumbled for the keys.
“Thank you,” Yoshana said.
“I’m a loyal servant of Stephen,” Furat said hastily. Then, more softly, “Besides, I’m allergic to being dead.”
“I understand,” Yoshana said. “I tried it once and it didn’t agree with me. I had to give it up.”
The expression on the man’s face turned even more sickly. I was impressed he didn’t drizzle down his leg. He obviously knew exactly who and what he was dealing with.
The gates swung open and Furat shoved his two associates out of the way.
“But, boss -” one began.
“Shut up,” he snapped. “I’ll tell you later.”
He scrambled in the dirt to retrieve his knife and pistol, hastily shoving the gun through his belt and dropping the knife into a pocket. I hoped he didn’t accidentally stab himself.
Past the gate, a sprawl of stone and timber buildings stood atop a small plateau. The view was breathtaking. An ocean of wooded hills spread before us in the dying light.
“Stable’s to the left,” Furat said. “Shilah, help them get their horses settled.” He took the great brass torch from one of his men, handed it to the other, and then moved the first toward the stable with a little push.
“Guest rooms over on the right, no one here now but you, so take whatever you like the look of. I’ll go see to supper, that’s straight down these steps here.” He jerked his head, pointing over his shoulder with his chin. “We can get you provisioned in the morning, for now just get your gear stowed and we’ll get you fed.”
I was the last one up the steps, and my horse was still nervous. By the time I finished with him and made my way into the dining hall, everyone else was seated. Everyone except Yoshana. She was nowhere to be seen.
This part of the complex was cut directly into the rock. Windows opened to the west, the last of the sunlight winking on the fields of grass below. The glass was thick and lightly rippled, set into diamond panes. I stood there looking out.
“Quite a view, isn’t it?” Furat said. He handed me a bowl of hot stew.
“Quite a place. What is it?”
He grinned. “That’s not a short answer. You want to sit?”
I surveyed the room. Erev and his men sat at one table, Grigg and Roshel at another. I joined the Select and Overlord. Furat produced two mugs of beer and sat with us. Grigg and Roshel were already eating.
“Best guess is the ancients built this around the start of the Age of Fear. Defensible. Obviously. It was abandoned when I got here.”
“Why World’s End?”
He shrugged. “Farthest east you can go before you get into the Sorrows. Darklands are on the other side. Far as most people are concerned, this is the end of the world.”
“So, no offense, but why live here?”
“Prospectors. There’s a fortune in ancient goods up in the Sorrows. I feed and equip the folks that go hunting for it. That’s what brought me out here in the first place, but after I went in there… like I said, I’m allergic to dying.”
“People do that? Go in there?”
“Oh, sure. There’s good money in it.” I had mined the ancients’ garbage for two years. I nodded. “But a lot that go in don’t come back out. Or they make it back here, but the Darkness is in ’em. That’s why we test for it. Sorry about that.”
Grigg waved away the apology and kept eating. Roshel winked. Furat’s face turned bright red.
“How did you already know about Brom?” I asked, changing the subject.
“Who?”
“When you said you were allergic to dying, I thought you knew… uh…”
I looked at my companions. Was what happened meant to be secret?
“Brom of Icefall,” Grigg said around a mouthful of stew. “He wasn’t very hospitable.”
“Oh. Icefall… is he that creep that took over a fort up by the Ice Fields and robbed travelers? I had a couple of people come through here that ran into him. They got here with their packs a lot lighter than when they started. I’ve heard worse than that about him. Probably deserved whatever Yoshana did to him.”
“She stuck her hand into his throat and pulled out his windpipe. After she killed all his men in front of him,” Grigg said, still eating.
“Oh,” Furat said. “That’s… pretty final.”
“Yup,” Grigg nodded.
“But if you didn’t know about that…?” I conti
nued.
“No offense, but Yoshana has a reputation. You don’t make her mad and live to tell about it.”
I barely suppressed a shudder as I thought about the Darkness boiling out of her in Stephensburg when Prophetess and I had confronted her.
“Nope,” Grigg agreed. “Unless you can talk without your trachea.”
Furat stood up. “Let me just go check on your friends.” He hurried off to Erev’s table.
I looked around. The Knights were twenty feet away, engrossed in their own conversation. They barely noticed when Furat joined them. Yoshana was still nowhere to be seen, though I suppose that didn’t mean she wasn’t somehow present.
Still, I looked into Grigg’s eyes - black and empty as my own - and asked him, “How are you sure you’re on the right side? A week ago Yoshana killed a fort full of men. This guy here is trying to be friendly, but he’s obviously terrified of you. And you’re not exactly going out of your way to put him at ease.”
I swallowed, and added, “There’s a reason Prophetess thinks you’re in the service of hell.”
“The just man is a light in the darkness to the upright. Psalm one hundred and twelve,” Grigg said. Roshel shot him an exasperated look.
“Huh?” I said.
He grinned. “You have to believe in the truth of what you’re doing. You have to trust your conscience, and the people around you.” He sobered abruptly. “It isn’t an easy calling. But if you believe the options are what Yoshana says they are, what choice is there? Sit back and watch the demons and the Darkness roll over the world, while mankind squabbles and suffers? Refuse to get your hands dirty because keeping them clean feels more comfortable? One of the ancients said there’s nothing more irrelevant than a pacifist, and he was right.”
“But the Darkness? Using that?”
“Like Yoshana says, it’s a tool. It’s a dangerous one, just like fire. But shoving it away because you’re scared of it is no smarter than paleos being afraid to use matches.”
Passing Through Darkness- The Complete Cycle Page 24