Passing Through Darkness- The Complete Cycle

by Malcolm McKenzie

  The building was old, run down without being exactly dirty. Small gusts of cold air crept in under the door, stirring dust. The windows were thick, blurred by grime and the imperfection of the glass. Dim though the light was in the room, I could still see nothing of the street outside.

  And then she was walking through the door, and it was the most natural thing in the world. She was still using her “I belong here” aura. The heart-stopping lust she normally aroused was absent.

  She was still perhaps the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Tanned skin, dark hair and eyes, body fit but totally feminine.

  “Have a seat,” I offered. Even without the aura of attraction, my heart was pounding. I couldn’t say exactly why, where the balance lay between fear and desire. I’d thought I was in love with her once. But now she might just kill me and walk away. She was an Overlord, a half-demon master of the Darkness, and there was nothing I could do to stop her.

  Roshel sank gracefully into the chair across from me and stared into my eyes. Eventually she said, “I’m sorry.”

  “For what, exactly?”

  “For what Yoshana did to you and wanted you to do. For trying to kill your friend. For the fact that we’ll kill you.”

  “Not right now, I hope.”

  “No. Not right now.”

  “It’s a shame. I like you, Roshel. I like Grigg. I’ve even got a weird fondness for the terror herself. While we’re being sorry for things, I’m sorry I left you in the middle of a fight in the Darklands, although I guess you made it out all right.” I sighed. “If somehow it had all been different…”

  She gave me a sad smile. “I would have liked if it had all been different. But that’s not why we’re here.”

  “No. We’re here because you picked the wrong side and tried to kill my friend.” Her face clouded. I leaned forward and met her eyes squarely. “But I didn’t come to talk about that. I don’t blame you. I know you’re following Yoshana’s orders. And I know she hates waste. So I’ve got an offer for her. Trial by combat, her champion against ours. Two months from now.”

  The Darkness coalesced around me, caressing my face, ruffling my hair. It was cold outside, but the air in the tavern was thick and close. I tried hard not to flinch as a chill ran across my whole body.

  “It’s true,” Roshel said. “It’s not in you anymore. You’ll stand no chance at all.”

  I smiled grimly. “That’s why I need two months.”

  “I could put you out of your misery here, tonight. Why would Yoshana want me to wait?”

  “You just said you weren’t going to kill me now.”

  “A girl can change her mind.”

  She said it in a bantering tone. I didn’t think she was serious. But I didn’t like the turn the conversation was taking. “You know Yoshana wants to make a statement. Trial by combat will do that. Killing me now just means Prophetess gets a new general who knows better than to meet Overlords in taverns.”

  Roshel grinned, but then her expression turned serious. “I know. But if she takes your deal, you’re just buying yourself two months. It might be better for you if I did it here. She won’t let you die easily.”

  I swallowed. “I know.”

  4. Here We Go Again

  “You are insane!” Tolf blurted.

  I shrugged. “I don’t see any other option.”

  “I can’t begin to describe all the ways this is a bad idea.” Someone had replaced the torches in the war room with oil lamps set on the table. The light cast harsh shadows on Tolf’s face, carving sharp angles of frustration. I had just returned from meeting Roshel, it was well after midnight, and we were all running on fear and anger.

  I’d had Railes, Dee, and Aharon join us in the planning session. Tarc was still there because I hadn’t rescinded the “kill on sight” order for unknown Select, aimed at Grigg. Like a true soldier, he was dozing in a corner, catching up on his sleep while he had the chance. Marek was there because it was, after all, his boss’ citadel that had just been infiltrated. He looked extremely upset, as if he were just beginning to understand how out of his depth he was. It was hard to blame him.

  “You have to understand just how lucky we were,” I replied. “If it had been anyone but Cat in that room with her, Prophetess would be dead. Yoshana and Roshel won’t be caught by surprise again. We need to change the rules of engagement.”

  “Prophetess isn’t going to like this,” Tolf insisted.

  “I’m betting she’s liking the idea of being murdered in her sleep even less.”

  Lago wore a deeply unhappy frown. “What you are proposing, Judge Minos, seems of… questionable morality.”

  I turned to Aharon son of Malak, the BlackShield’s occult advisor. “But necessary, no? Sometimes we have to fight fire with fire.”

  Lago and his Josephite troops despised the Darkness and the occult, but he had employed Aharon as a consultant on the subject. The Descendant steepled his fingers and rested his chin on them. His hands vanished entirely behind his long beard.

  “A dangerous approach, Judge Minos. Recall that King Saul was destroyed after he consulted the Witch of Endor rather than heeding the prophet of the Lord.”

  Dee spoke up, “On the other hand, Solomon, wisest of the ancient kings, bound demons to his will.”

  Which was sort of funny, since Dee had once advised me not to call up anything that I could not put down. Did he now think I had somehow gained the wisdom of Solomon? Or was he just talking out of both sides of his mouth? It wasn’t necessarily reassuring to have him taking my side.

  The two occultists went off into some esoteric argument I couldn’t begin to follow.

  “Gentlemen!” I interrupted. “I promise I will discuss the moral aspects of this plan with Father Roric tomorrow.”

  I wasn’t looking forward to that at all. I swallowed and went on. “I need your opinion from a military and technical perspective. Does anyone have any better ideas? Because I’ll admit I’m not too thrilled with this one myself.”

  The commanders in the room exchanged glances. So did the scholars. Helpful alternatives were conspicuous by their absence. After a moment, Hake said, “Your judgment has been pretty good on this sort of thing, Minos. I don’t like it either, but I don’t suppose I see a better option.”

  I sighed. “Fine. Railes, while I’m gone, I want six of the Shadowed Hand with Prophetess at every single moment unless she’s in the bathroom, and then I want Cat with her.”

  Tolf protested, “The Order of Thorns -”

  “Isn’t trained against the Darkness. The Shadowed Hand practiced with me. They’re the best we’ve got.” There were only two dozen of my old unit left, but it would be enough to keep a constant guard on Tess.

  “Go now.” Railes stood, saluted, and went to carry out his orders.

  “Dee, get down to Stephensburg as fast as you can. Take as much of the Order for an escort as Tolf thinks you need. Get an audience with Yoshana, and repeat my terms. We meet sixty days from today. Tolf, I need you to set the location. I want a hill with a couple of trees on the crown. Make sure Yoshana is clear on the site - it would be embarrassing if we went to different places for the duel, and she might not take that well. Draw a map for her if you need to.”

  Tolf opened his mouth and shut it. He gave me a tight-lipped nod.

  Dee opened his mouth and didn’t shut it. “Minos, I believe perhaps you should reconsider your personnel assignments. I am a scholar, a chronicler, a -”

  “You told me back at the Battle of the Cleansing you were Prophetess’ herald. Now you’re my herald. So herald.”

  “And I appreciate the honor. Deeply. But some events are best recorded from a more objective perspective, which requires a certain distance.”

  “She won’t kill you, Dee. Probably. Unless you say something stupid. Or she’s in a bad mood.”

  The occultist looked outraged and shot an appealing look at Aharon son of Malak. One pretend sorcerer to another, I supposed.

&nbs
p; The Descendant had traveled with a military unit. He had been on that rooftop with me at the Cleansing when I was something of a terror myself, an unknown quantity to him except for the destruction I’d inflicted on his companions. He said, “If it pleases Judge Minos, I can deliver the message.”

  Dee harrumphed. “Certainly not. I appreciate the offer, of course, but this task has been entrusted to me and I will carry it out.”

  He might well have been the most exasperating human being on the planet. I waved him away. “Why don’t you go prepare? You and Tolf can discuss logistics. And Tolf, cancel that kill order on the Select. I don’t want Tarc or me getting skewered by someone who can’t tell people with gray skin apart.”

  He saluted, and guided - or more accurately, pulled - Dee out of the room. I turned to Tarc. He was a seasoned officer and had been the military advisor to a prince. “Anything to add?”

  He cracked an eyelid and gave me a slow smile. “Nope. Prophetess can have a smarter Select advisor after you’re dead.”

  That line had seemed funnier when I’d said it.

  I’d dreaded facing Father Roric more than facing Roshel. But the cleric hadn’t bitten my head off. Yet. That didn’t mean he liked my idea.

  “You can’t possibly expect me to approve, Minos.”

  “We’ve been over the military angles. None of my officers sees another solution. I don’t like this option myself, but I don’t see any other way to win.”

  Roric regarded me with narrowed eyes. “That suggests a certain lack of faith. The Gospel tells us to look at the birds in the sky - they do not sow or reap, they gather nothing into barns, yet our heavenly Father feeds them. So do not worry and say, ‘what are we to eat’ or ‘what are we to drink’ or ‘what are we to wear?’ Our heavenly Father knows we need them all. But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you besides.”

  I leaned back and took a deep breath. “Yeah. There’s an old joke from before the Fall that still circulates among the Select. A pious man finds himself trapped in a flood and prays to the Lord for deliverance. As the water rises, he goes up to the second floor of his house. Two men come by in a boat. ‘Get in,’ they say. He says, ‘No, the Lord will deliver me.’ The water gets higher, and he goes up onto the roof. Another boat comes by, and the men in it call out, ‘Get in.’ ‘No,’ he says, ‘the Lord will deliver me.’ Finally, as the water is closing in around him, a helicopter comes by.”

  I paused, then added, “That was apparently some kind of airship.”

  The priest nodded. “I’ve seen pictures.”

  “The men in the helicopter say, ‘Get in,’ but the pious man says, ‘No, the Lord will deliver me.’ And then the water rises some more, and he drowns. When he gets to heaven and sees God he’s furious, and he says, ‘Why didn’t you save me?’”

  “And God says, ‘I sent you two boats and a helicopter. What did you want?’” the priest concluded. “I’ve heard it.”

  “And?”

  Roric sighed. “Saint Ignatius of Loyola tells us, ‘Act as if everything depended on you; trust as if everything depended on God.’ The point is perhaps somewhat similar.”

  “So isn’t this a case of using all the tools God puts at our disposal?”

  The Advocate for Justice looked down at his desktop, examining the accumulated centuries of nicks and scratches in the wood. He turned to a heavy, leather-bound Bible and began to leaf through it.

  “A moment, please… it’s not just a question of using any tool available to us. Some are legitimate, others are not. Because a thing can be done does not mean it should be done, even in a just cause. Ah, here!”

  A bony finger stabbed at the page, and he read. “From the Book of Sirach. ‘If you choose, you will keep the commandments and so be faithful to his will. He has set fire and water before you; put out your hand to whichever you prefer. A human being has life and death before him; whichever he prefers will be given him. For vast is the wisdom of the Lord; he is almighty and all-seeing. His eyes are on those who fear him, he notes every human action. He never commanded anyone to be godless, he has given no one permission to sin.’”

  “But is this really sin, Father? A worse sin than doing nothing? You gave me Aquinas to read. He said nothing is evil in its essence, but only in its defective use. Doesn’t that go for the Darkness too?”

  Roric frowned. “I may come to regret giving you the Summa. Aquinas was the Church’s greatest theologian, but even he was human, and fallible. Nor can we realistically expect him to have anticipated an abomination as far outside his experience as the Darkness.”

  I fought to keep my voice level. “You said our cause was just. You said we had a duty to minimize losses. Do you know how many will die if our armies meet in the field? Since we’ve got almost seven thousand men, I’d guess that’s about seven thousand of us dead, plus however many of Yoshana’s we take with us. If we allow her to put us under siege, how many innocents will starve? She won’t wait until the harvest comes in.”

  Roric shook his head. “Then perhaps the answer is not to fight, but to bear witness against her. Our history is full of martyrs. It’s not a calling I’d imagined for myself, but that may be the way.”

  “Do you think she’d let you bear witness? I’ve seen the withered husk of a human controlled by the Darkness. She saw that too. She killed it, but I’m sure she’s thought of the implications. The last words that come from your mouth won’t be yours, Father.”

  He grimaced. “You’re entirely too skilled at painting a terrifying picture.”

  “I learned it from her.”

  The lean priest’s eagle eyes softened. It made him seem old. His next words didn’t come with their characteristic edge. “You’ve always been smart, Minos, as long as I’ve known you. Too smart for your own good, that’s what people say about the Select, and it could have applied to you. But you’ve seen many things this last year. You’ve lived through things I never have and hope I never will. And you’ve begun to become wise.”

  I was surprised. I didn’t know what to say.

  He went on, “But even wisdom can be a trap. That jackass Dee brought up Solomon, didn’t he?”

  I nodded wordlessly, surprised again, on several levels. Roric’s insight was as penetrating as his stare. I couldn’t say I liked him, but I had to admire him. And he had not previously voiced an opinion of Dee. I was almost tempted to defend the occultist, but I didn’t. I’d called him a jackass in my mind a dozen times at least.

  “Solomon was wise, none wiser,” the priest continued. “And one of the greatest kings of Israel. But he grew proud, and fell into temptation.”

  “I’ve got you and Prophetess to keep me from getting proud, Father.”

  That earned me a thin smile. Emboldened, I continued, “So… I know you don’t approve of my proposal, but do you object?”

  The eagle-eyed glare was back. “Do I formally object? No. Do I approve? No. You understand that you’re morally responsible for the consequences of what you’re bringing here… which could be quite grave.”

  “I understand, Father. I just don’t see another path.”

  He grimaced. “Neither do I. However, we do appear to have a genuine prophet whom you were good enough to bring among us. Have you asked her?”

  “She’s next on my list to convince.”

  His smile returned, now mocking. “Good luck.”

  I winced and stood, but before I could turn he stretched out a thin, bony hand. “A moment. If you’re determined to go forward, you should have this.” In his palm was a silver disk, perhaps an inch across, attached to a thin chain.

  I took the disk and examined it. The figure of a man was engraved on one side, a cross on the other. “What is it?”

  “The medal of Saint Benedict. An ancient symbol within the Church. Among other things, it is effective against diabolical influences, temptation, delusion, and sin.”

  I couldn’t keep the frown off my face.
He raised an eyebrow. I said, “No disrespect, Father, but I’m not sure a magic amulet is going to help me against the Darkness.”

  It was his turn to scowl. “You misunderstand the use of sacramentals. The medal has no magical powers. But we humans are influenced by symbols. When Christ healed the blind man by rubbing mud on his eyes, it was not a magic spell that required the use of mud. Christ could as easily have healed him by simply willing it to be so. But humans react to a physical manifestation. The medal is not some heathen idol, itself an object of faith. It is a reminder of faith. Where you’re going, the reminder will do you good.”

  I turned that over in my head as I turned the disk over in my hands. I might have objected that I didn’t need a little piece of metal to focus my mind, but then, I had nearly fallen under the control of the Darkness. It couldn’t hurt.

  The writing on the medal wasn’t in English. “What does it say?”

  “Most relevantly, the initials on and around the cross stand for Crux sacra sit mihi lux; non draco sit mihi dux. May the holy cross be my light; may the devil not be my prince. And Vade retro satana; nunquam suade mihi vana; sunt mala quae libas; ipse venena bibas. Get thee behind me Satan; never tempt me with your vanities; what you offer me is evil; drink the poison yourself.”

  A shiver went down my spine. “I suppose I see the relevance.”

  The priest took the medal back from me, said a short prayer over it, and returned it. I slipped the chain around my neck under my shirt.

  As I turned to go, he added, “Oh. It also says Eius in obitu nostro praesentia muniamur. May we be strengthened by his presence in the hour of our death.”

  The shiver was stronger than before.

  I knew that at any other time, I would have stood no chance at all of persuading Prophetess, but nearly being murdered in your bed by an Overlord changes your worldview.

  That didn’t mean convincing her was easy.

  “No,” was her opening response.