Passing Through Darkness- The Complete Cycle

by Malcolm McKenzie

  “Are you not?”

  The wraith cocked its head to the side, the smile never leaving its face. I’d underestimated the thing. Whatever else it was, it was clearly more than a collection of instincts with the power of speech.

  “You want me to go to the Darklands.”

  “My master wishes it, yes. I will escort you.”

  Roshel snorted out a laugh. “Gurath should know better than to think we’re idiots.”

  I held up my hand. “We’ll need some time to consider his proposal. We’ll set up a pavilion in the main field where you and your men can rest. Under guard. You understand, of course.”

  The ambassador dipped its head.

  Now it was Prophetess’ turn to object. “You can’t be serious, Minos! House that - thing - in Our Lady?”

  I turned to her. “You think it would be better to turn a wraith out into the town, unguarded?”

  She opened her mouth and shut it again. Her face was set in grim lines of disapproval, but she didn’t say anything.

  “Captain Railes,” I continued, “escort our guests to the center of the drill yard. Have a pavilion set up with food and facilities. And have the Shadowed Hand stand guard. All of them. With torches.”

  My adjutant saluted. “Yes, sir.”

  I thought the expression that briefly flitted across Legion’s face was naked hatred, but I couldn’t be sure.

  “Prophetess, Minos,” Roshel snapped, “come with me.”

  She added the word “please” as an afterthought, but I knew an order when I heard it. Even though I was her superior officer, I went.

  Roshel led us up to the third floor of the command center, to a small room with no windows. My leg was killing me by the second flight of stairs and she must have known it, but she didn’t slow down. She took a torch from the wall in each hand as we went. When we were in the room and she had shut the door behind us, the Overlord waved the burning brands through the air, poking at every corner. I winced as the flames surged perilously close to two ancient, faded paintings on the wall. Finally satisfied, Roshel left one torch on the floor to block the crack under the door and kept the other in her hand.

  “Kill it,” she demanded.

  “Huh?” I said stupidly.

  “Kill it with fire. We can take it by surprise. I’m pretty sure you or I would notice if it infiltrated us, and I assume Prophetess can repel its probes. It’ll have infected almost everyone else around it. But if we hit it fast enough, we should be able to destroy it before it kills too many of the guards.”

  I thought about how Yoshana had insinuated the Darkness into Lord Brom’s men, so she could use it to kill and cripple them at her will. Would Legion have done the same thing? Why wouldn’t it?

  I held up my hands. “You’re right, it’s dangerous. And I know how you feel about the Hellguard. But first off, maybe we should think about Gurath’s offer.”

  Before she could interrupt, I went on, “We’ve been planning long enough to know we don’t have the forces for an overwhelming victory. And second, it’s really bad etiquette to murder an ambassador, even an obnoxious one.”

  “That thing’s a provocation, Minos. And I don’t just mean it’s intended to offend us, although obviously it is. I mean it in the literal sense. There are humans in the Darklands who still have will, and Overlords who can pass as human. Gurath could have sent one of them. Instead he sent that wraith to provoke a reaction, observe that reaction, and report it back to him. Every nuance of what we said and did will be information for him. So even if you want to negotiate with Gurath - which is idiotic, by the way - don’t give him more knowledge of us than you have to. Go to him if you must, but leave that thing here as a pile of ash.”

  “That’ll tell him something too.”

  “Yes, it’ll tell him we’re not to be trifled with. I don’t mind if he learns that lesson.”

  Once again, I was reminded that Roshel hadn’t commanded a third of the Darkness Radiant because of her aura of seduction. She had a sharp, ruthless mind and an iron will.

  Still, that didn’t mean she was right. “We’re not murdering a guest, much less an ambassador.”

  “That’s not even a person, much less an ambassador.”

  “Maybe not. But I’ve met folks who don’t think Select are people either. For that matter, I don’t think I thought paleos were people, until one of them turned into one of my best friends. We’re not killing Legion.”

  “That thing isn’t going to become one of your best friends.”

  “I didn’t say it was.”

  The Overlord blew out an exasperated sigh. “Fine. Does that mean you’re going to be an idiot and follow an embodied wraith into the Darklands?”

  I shot Prophetess a quick glance. “That part I haven’t decided yet.”

  The room Roshel had secured was too small for the group I had in mind. We moved to a conference room on the second floor. And Railes made sure the ambassador’s pavilion was set up at the far end of the drill yard, a quarter of a mile away.

  “I don’t think even a Darkness wraith can control probes from that distance,” Roshel said. “But I really have no way of knowing for sure.”

  She had a torch in each hand again and was prowling around the chamber with them. She even waved the flames toward each person that entered the room - Hake, Railes, River Mist, Tolf, Cat, Tarc, the occultists John Dee and Aharon son of Malak, the priests Father Roric and Father Juniper. Hafnum Furat was the last, along with his dog. Sam trotted around the room sniffing at everyone and wagging her tail, happily collecting pats on the head and scratches behind the ears. After completing her circuit, she retired to a corner, turned around twice, and sank to the ground doing her impersonation of a furry, white log.

  The Overlord looked at the dog with narrowed eyes. “Good enough,” she decided. She closed the door and set both torches on the floor, warding the crack. Sam sniffed at a drift of smoke, then closed her eyes and went to sleep.

  “Good enough,” Roshel repeated.

  What little chatter there had been died down and all eyes turned to me. “Railes, how are our guests doing?” I asked.

  The tattooed captain dipped his head. “They’re just sitting there, boss, quiet-like. We’ve got half of the Shadowed Hand watching them now. I was figuring two twelve-hour shifts. Normally either Mist or I would be with them, but you wanted us both here.”

  I nodded. The twelve warriors of River Mist’s Hidden Moon Clan who’d survived the Battle of Darkness Falling were part of my special forces unit now. They knew even more about the Darkness than the two dozen living veterans of the company I’d led in the campaign against the Monolith. Half the company would be eighteen men. It should be enough.

  Thinking about the Shadowed Hand crystalized something in my mind. At our peak, there had been forty soldiers in the Shadowed Hand. The Hidden Moon Clan had brought twenty warriors to the fight against Yoshana. Of those sixty, thirty six remained. They were the best troops in the army, and they’d been at the forefront of every engagement. And now nearly half of them were dead.

  I wasn’t going to throw them into that meat grinder again if I could help it.

  “I’m going to see Gurath,” I said.

  “What?” Prophetess blurted. Half a dozen throats echoed her.

  “When did you decide that?” Roshel demanded. “Half an hour ago you hadn’t decided yet. I thought the point of this meeting was so everyone else could talk some sense into you.”

  “It was. And then I started thinking about how many soldiers we’ve lost over the past year, and that made the decision for me.”

  General Hake cleared his throat. “It’s good that you’re worried about the men, Minos. It’s one of the reasons they follow you. But throwing your own life away isn’t going to save anyone else’s. Everyone knows the demons are treacherous. It’s pretty obvious they’re just planning to kill you so you can’t lead us against them.”

  All the soldiers in the room nodded vigorously.


  “Still, the possibility of peace should never be ignored,” Dee mused.

  That phrase chilled me more than Hake’s blunt declaration. I was pretty sure Dee had used those exact same words when he’d argued in favor of my mission to accompany Yoshana into the Darklands. That journey had seen me infected with Darkness. Under its influence, I’d nearly killed Tess and half the people in this room.

  “That’s what you said last time, and look how well it worked out,” Tolf snapped, echoing my thoughts.

  But, in the end, that mission had set in motion a series of events that led to Yoshana’s defeat. God really did work in mysterious ways. “Yes, Tolf. Look how well it worked out. Yoshana is defeated. I know this is risky, but I’m not stupid enough to make the exact same mistakes twice. I’m not going to let Gurath convince me that I can control the Darkness.”

  “No, he’s just going to rip off your head and stick it on a pike,” the guardsman shot back.

  Railes chimed in, “Look, boss, I don’t think this is a great idea either. But if you’re really going to go, we’ll send the Shadowed Hand with you.”

  I had to smile. The whole point of the exercise was not to get any more of the men and women under my command killed. “Thanks, but what good would it do? If Gurath’s really interested in negotiating, I won’t need them. If he’s going to kill me, he’ll just kill them too.”

  Railes opened his mouth to protest, but I held up a hand. “They’re the best special forces on the continent. Man for man, I’d back them against the Knights of Resurrection. No offense.”

  Roshel shrugged. The Knights had been Yoshana’s personal corps, not hers.

  “But what are thirty of them going to do against three hundred of the Hellguard?

  Railes looked stubborn, but didn’t argue.

  Furat made a grumbling noise deep in his throat, sounding almost like his dog. He said, “Fine, I’ll go with you. You can’t tell me you don’t need a dog that can detect the Darkness.”

  I shook my head. “That’s exactly what I’m going to tell you. We know the Hellguard are filled with it. For that matter, we know the ambassador is a Darkness wraith. We couldn’t keep Sam within fifty feet of it. Thanks, Furat, but no.”

  The look on his face was just as mulish as Railes’, but he didn’t say anything either. The objections seemed to have run their course.

  “So it’s decided.” I stood.

  Tarc barked out a little laugh. “One more chance for Prophetess to upgrade to a smarter Select protector when the current one gets himself killed.” A smirk played on his gray face.

  “I’m going too,” Tess declared.

  The chorus of objections was louder than when I’d announced my decision. I realized that I’d reflexively contributed “Like hell you are” to the general tumult.

  “I should have gone with you the first time, when you went with Yoshana,” she continued. “You said you won’t make the same mistake twice. Neither will I.”

  “Everyone needs you here, Tess.”

  “You really don’t listen, do you? I have no mission, now. I have no guidance from God. I can’t lead an army, or even act as its figurehead. But I can go with you. Maybe that’s my mission.”

  In my mind’s eye, Yoshana’s sword was at Tess’ throat again. “I can’t have you get hurt, not now.”

  “Not hurt, her. With her, me,” Cat stated.

  “Oh, sure. A girl who doesn’t weigh a hundred pounds soaking wet is going to protect Prophetess against the demons,” Tolf retorted. The paleo bared her teeth at him in a snarl that rivaled Sam or Legion. The guardsman flinched back.

  If anyone could protect Tess, it was Cat.

  “I’ll go too,” Roshel said. “I know the demons better than anyone here.”

  Tess scowled. Possibilities flitted through my head. The likely outcomes of having Tess, Roshel, and Cat together at close quarters didn’t look good.

  “You will not,” I said. “If this goes badly, we need someone getting us ready for war. That’s you. Like you said, you know the demons better than anyone. You’ve fought them before.”

  The Overlord glared, but didn’t object.

  Then, to my infinite amazement, Dee stood. “I’ll go,” he said.

  When I gaped at him, he said, “When else would I have the chance to observe the Hellguard up close? The opportunities for study are limitless.”

  Tolf muttered, “If this doesn’t work, we may all being seeing them up close sooner than we’d like.”

  Railes caught my shoulder as the planning session was breaking up. “I’ll go too,” he said quietly.

  “Should I flatter myself into thinking you want to protect me, or be more realistic and think you want to protect Cat?”

  “You really want me to answer that?”

  I shook my head. “Not really. And I’m sorry, but no. I need you here. Roshel can take care of herself as well as anyone, but she’s going to need bodyguards, and that means the Shadowed Hand. And I need you in charge of them.” The irony of the Hellguard possibly trying to assassinate Roshel in Our Lady wasn’t lost on me, since she’d tried to do the exact same thing to Prophetess.

  “I get it.” Somehow his grimace managed to make even the skull tattooed on the side of his face look anguished. “Just - take care of her?”

  He didn’t mean Tess. I was about to reassure him that Cat could take care of herself just as well as Roshel when my mind was invaded by the image of her little body crumpled on the ground at Yoshana’s feet.

  “I will,” I said.

  I think he would have said something else, but Father Juniper was returning, an acolyte trailing him nervously. “The Metropolitan wants to see you,” he announced.

  Even with a trip to the Darklands looming, a summons from the Metropolitan was something to take seriously.

  “Go on in,” Moya grunted. She didn’t bother with her usual insults, and even seemed a bit less surly than normal. Maybe my impending doom was raising her spirits.

  I passed through Father Doreden’s office. The fat priest gave me a vague, worried smile, and gestured toward a door in the back. “Go on in,” he repeated.

  It was the first time I’d visited the Metropolitan’s suite. The room was frankly less impressive than I’d expected for the highest remaining official of the Universal Church left in the known world. It wasn’t much more than a dozen feet on a side, with a pair of desks, a small table, and a scattering of chairs. There were paintings on the wall and religious objects on shelves, but none of the gilding or elaborate decoration that made the basilica so impressive.

  The Metropolitan stood in front of the sole window when I entered. His back was to me. The view of the lake and fields was pleasant, and I took a moment to enjoy it.

  “I find it relaxing to look at God’s work,” the Metropolitan said as he turned. He was a small, trim man. The close-cropped hair that remained to him was white, but I couldn’t be sure of his age. He had the vigor and controlled energy of a man no older than fifty, but a gravity that suggested decades more.

  I nodded. “Yes, Your Eminence.”

  “You’re going to see the demon,” he went on without preamble. He didn’t sit, or invite me to do so. I rested a bit more weight on the shirasaya katana that these days served primarily as a cane.

  “Yes, Your Eminence.”

  “You lived near Redstone for a time, yes?”

  I nodded.

  “They have a phrase there. It translates roughly to, ‘the devil knows because he’s the devil, but he knows more because he’s old.’”

  “I hadn’t heard that one.”

  “Gurath is very old. You’ve faced Yoshana, but the demon lord is a being of another order.”

  I frowned. “I understand, but I knew a Hellguard. In the end he was just a man. He helped us against Yoshana, and she killed him.”

  “I’ve heard about the Hellguard called Seven. Gurath will not be the same.” The others were stronger, Seven had said. And didn’t regard unmodif
ied humans as people.

  I shivered, but said, “I’ve been down this road before. I’ve faced evil. Comes to that, Your Eminence, I’ve been evil.”

  The Metropolitan stared directly into my eyes. I wondered what he saw there. What he said was, “I believe Father Roric is fond of quoting Aquinas to you.”

  I nodded. “And making me read him.”

  “I don’t especially care for Aquinas. He’s a little too logical and more than a little too pedantic for me. I prefer to go a thousand years farther back to Saint Augustine if we’re going to look to the ancient Doctors of the Church. He said, ‘The enemy had my power of willing in his clutches, and from it had forged a chain to bind me. The truth is that disordered lust springs from a perverted will; when lust is pandered to, a habit is formed; when habit is not checked, it hardens into compulsion.’”

  I tried to make a joke of it. “If he died two thousand years ago, how did he know me so well?”

  The Metropolitan didn’t laugh. “He knew himself, and so knew us all. You know temptation, Minos. That doesn’t make you immune to it. Perhaps even the opposite, as Augustine suggests. Gurath will know where you’re vulnerable, and that’s where he will apply pressure. Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul; rather, be afraid of the one who can destroy both soul and body in Gehenna.”

  I shivered again. “Prophetess said that to Yoshana. Yoshana suggested she could do both.”

  “But she couldn’t. Neither can Gurath. But it doesn’t mean he won’t lead you to the one who can. Fear what Gurath can do to your body, Minos. But fear more what he can make you do to your own soul.”

  “We have to plan for the chance Gurath’s going to betray us,” I said to Roshel. We were alone in the vast map room. “Capture Tess and me to hold us hostage, or just kill us.”

  “I don’t think that’s a chance, Minos. I think that’s pretty close to a certainty.”

  “You’re a real ray of sunshine. I have to believe he doesn’t want this war either. At least, not right now. Maybe he’s just buying time.” Or maybe the Metropolitan was right, and he intended to turn me. If that was the case, I’d disappoint him. The Metropolitan’s concern for my soul notwithstanding, I was more worried about the thousands of lives under my command. I continued, “Whatever he’s planning, we have to keep getting ourselves ready.”