The Morgannate: The Dregian Chronicles Book 3

by D E Boske

  Darian’s advisor was next and he hopped down lightly next to Darian, as if they were attending a festival. Darian placed Renlyss behind him and lifted Hunter onto his shoulders so he’d always know where the boy was.

  Shaz came stumbling down onto the pier and actually kissed the tired, old, wooden planks. The sailors laughed and made their jokes but the bounty hunter didn’t care. He didn’t want to spend one more minute on that cursed ship! He preferred the Haunted Lands to the ship.

  But that was merely because he had yet to experience the horrors hidden in the mists.

  “I thank you for your service, Aidan. Would you be willing to return to pick us up in a fortnight?” queried the Mage.

  “Aye! That I will. I owe you for saving my ship,” said the Captain.

  “I will make it worth your while,” stated the young Mage, but the Captain was shaking his head.

  “You’ve already done enough, Mage. You have paid handsomely and fought to save my ship and her crew. That is all the payment I require.” Darian nodded in acceptance, shook the Captain’s hand and turned to go.

  Once they were all off the ship, the Gor Li’ Khan shimmered and disappeared from sight, but Darian could pinpoint each one’s exact location and they were never far from him and Reny. They moved slowly, following the Mage’s lead.

  Kelindril stayed close to Darian. He didn’t like the looks of this place. It was too quiet and the Gor Li’ Khan leader looked around, expecting something to jump out at them. From his experience, when things were this silent, they had a tendency to turn bad.

  The fog consumed their forms as soon as they entered and the silence surrounded them like a death shroud.

  The young Mage gathered everyone around, binding them with his magic in groups of four or five so he’d be able to feel them wherever they were. Darian felt Kelindril’s nod of approval.

  The mist was thick, making it impossible to see more than an inch in all directions. They walked for an hour without seeing anything but Darian got the impression that the fog’s inhabitants were taking their measure before acting.

  Darian followed Dalyn’s lead, as he’d been here before and said he had an idea of where to look for the Morgannate. The young Mage warned them all before entering, to pay no heed to the voices in the mist. They were not to go off on their own and not to engage with anything they came across. That was the best he could do.

  He knew that some would die here and become the very creatures that hunted them even now. He could feel their malevolence toward them and their intent to harm. Something moved nearby, a twig snapped, shuffling footsteps, then silence once more.

  Moments later, they were pelted by rocks, some connecting and knocking them to the ground. One struck Kyler in the head, but did little damage as he wore full elven armor for protection. It knocked him back a few feet, but he shook it off quickly.

  One flew toward Hunter, but the protective shield Darian built around the tot protected him. The next target was not so lucky. With the first attacks not doing any damage, the unseen became agitated. The next missile rocketed into a Gor Li’ Khan, killing him instantly. The elven helm caved in his skull, spilling his brains onto the ground.

  Renlyss cried out and Darian tugged her close, hiding her eyes from the gory sight. He knew she’d seen her share of gruesome deaths; she was an Elflord, and a mage to boot, but he wanted to protect her.

  Kelindril signaled for them to remain in tight formation, as Darian had requested. The Mages’ spells would spare none of them from his fury.

  Thimkur, Heshen, and Graynor began casting and Darian joined in. The young Mage wasn’t sure what they were up against, as he’d never been here before, but he had a pretty good damn idea. Darian released a fireball and heard it hissing as it flew through the air. Moments later, it struck something solid and a shrieking wail erupted from the shroud of mist, chilling them to the bone.

  Darian felt his magic draining the life out of the shade as his battle ring absorbed the form’s energy. His eyes glowed in the dim light, as his body absorbed the shade’s life force, feeding the Mage so he could continue his killing spells.

  A dark mass flew at them, the misty fog obscuring their vision and making it nigh impossible to properly prepare. It hissed as it struck, long, thick, black nails lashing out to claim its victim. But the intended victim was a Mage of The Order, the Shangmarrum, and not an easy target. Darian stepped back out of the way, never losing the spell he’d already begun.

  Raschel looked on in wonder at his friend, the Shangmarrum, what Darian had always despised. Darian never wanted power or authority, though now he had both in abundance. They’d been friends back in Piri-Tuma, but he wasn’t sure they’d ever be as close as they once were. He’d been gone too long and was responsible for unspeakable horrors that could not be forgiven, no matter how much time passed.

  There was no way that Darian would ever trust him again and Raschel couldn’t blame him. If their positions were reversed, Raschel didn’t think he’d even speak to Darian. Why Darian had chosen to allow him to accompany them was beyond Raschel. He looked at Darian now, felt his strength and power, and knew he had chosen wisely.

  Raschel spun around as he heard the telltale sound of a scythe ripping the air. Being raised by The Order apparently had its perks. He was already casting and moving on instinct, to spin out of harm’s way just as the Wraith’s scythe whooshed through the air where Raschel had been standing. The spectre was incredibly fast, gaining on Raschel as he backpedaled out of the way. Bremen quickly joined Raschel and they both began casting.

  Loganthar fired his special arrows, striking one shade with an electric bolt and another with a fireball. He needed to learn which arrows worked best on these creatures and this was the

  only way he knew how.

  While in Kaleika Bay, he’d rounded up supplies and made a healthy stock of arrows, knowing they’d need them on this long journey. He reflected momentarily on the changes he and the other Gor Li’ Khan had been through since meeting Darian, but had no more time for rumination as a Wraith appeared, holding a wicked-looking scythe.

  Shaz fought off a skeleton, decayed bits of flesh and tissue hanging from its bones. The smell rolling off it reminded the bounty hunter of a defiled grave and Shaz had to clench his jaw to keep from vomiting.

  The skeleton was surprisingly agile and dodged Shaz’s attempts to cleave it in half. Bone’s blade was shiny, black, and deadly looking and the bounty hunter wasn’t particularly curious to see how deadly it was. Shaz got the impression that its bite would be fatal, even on lesser wounds.

  Shaz spun and turned to his right, striking the blade of the enemy, forcing it back. Bones was stronger than it looked and shoved Shaz hard, knocking him sprawling. The skeleton lunged and struck, blade aiming straight for Shaz heart.

  The bounty hunter would not be able to get his blade up to block in time, the dwarven steel too heavy and unwieldy at this angle. The skeleton hissed, sensing victory, then burst apart as an elvish blade limned in blue flames burst from its chest cavity. Kyler’s blonde head became visible once the skeleton began to crumble. Shaz didn’t even get a chance to thank him. The elven prince just danced on to the next target.

  A group of hunched, deformed creatures beset Stryker and Kibblewolf. Stryker saw the bony ridges of its spine protruding from its grey skin, the thinned out stringy hair that did not cover the smooth skin of its pate.

  “Ghouls! Watch yerself now!” commanded Stryker.

  “Aye! Don’t cha be lettin’ ‘em touch ye! They like to nomp on yer flesh,” replied Kibblewolf. The dwarves began to sing a drinking song as they chopped down the throng of ghouls.

  Bitter ale or sweetest wine

  I like the taste of them just fine

  Senses dulled I feel sublime

  I woke to thunder in me head

  And quickly wished that I was dead

  All day long I laid in bed

  Me mum she woke me with a smack

  And t
elled me the virtues I lack

  So I left without looking back

  Torgyn Ro took the time to scribe the words of the song, as he’d never heard it before. It was a simple melody so he quickly jotted the notes so he could practice it later.

  “You’re seriously doing that now?” Mordinian said acidly, shaking his head in frustration.

  “I didn’t want to forget it,” Torgyn replied innocently.

  “That won’t matter when you’re dead, imbecile,” replied the thief caustically.

  The Bard looked around for support, but everyone was busy fighting. Except for him, but he wasn’t a fighter, he never had been. So instead, he lent them strength the only way he knew. Through song.

  Once upon a time in Limmin

  A serving girl so sweet

  She drank me under the table

  And swept me off my feet!

  The drink it flowed til well past three

  And left me down on bended knee

  To hurl before the coming dawn

  And kneel before the demon spawn

  She laughed at my misfortune clear

  And whooped and hollered at my fear

  Red silken ribbons held her hair

  My life is over, it’s not fair

  My blood has spilled across the floor

  Her lips taste mine just like before

  My lifeless form shall know no pain

  As I am called beyond the gate

  The mood was sullen after the song. It’s not what Torgyn had intended but he supposed he’d chosen the wrong song. The air was heavy and oppressive, the shapes shifting and undulating in the thick fog. He felt Darian’s magic that bound them together and in that instant, he knew he’d been close to the powerful Mage before they’d ever met.

  He remembered hiding in the tall grass as the dragon flew overhead. At the time, he hadn’t understood what he was feeling. But now, being so close to the Mage as he cast his spells, he could feel his magic and the other Mage’s as well. Somehow, he was able to single each one out, sorting in order of power.

  He had no idea how he was able to do this. It just came to him. Darian was watching him carefully and the Bard merely shrugged returning to his lute, weaving in a spell of respite.

  Torgyn watched the battle as he played, the Gor Li’ Khan flickering in and out as they struck their enemies, and he saw those who needed the benefit of his small skill. The dwarves were hearty and able to withstand the murderous onslaught that was the Haunted Lands. But even they would tire eventually.

  The Bard played furiously as the battel waged on. At times it was obvious that he was helping, not so at others. The Mages did heavy damage to their adversaries but even they were tiring. Except, of course, for Darian. He was as strong and sure as he was when the first blows fell. How this was possible, Torgyn didn’t know, but he was desperate to.

  Of a sudden, the wind picked up with a fury all its own. A screeching cry erupted, turning their blood to ice, as huge wings beat the air and revealed the horned head of Morphindinaetlus. None had heard his approach and most fell back in shock and fear.

  Fiery breath shot from his maw to scorch and burn everything in his way. His fire would not spare his allies. The Mages quickly threw up shields to protect themselves and those near to them. The great wyrm was careful to keep his fire directed at the enemy, which for the moment, were the inhabitants of this wasteland of the dead.

  Darian could feel the chain of Dark Magic around the dragon’s neck. He’d summoned Morphindinaetlus and chose not to let the others know. Let the Dark Mage be wary! He was a force to be reckoned with who had powerful friends. The alliance was tentative, but for now, it worked and that’s all that mattered.

  Morphindinaetlus dodged several attacks, spiraling up into the sky then spearing down to inflict more damage until at last, the forces of the dead retreated. Darian wasn’t sure how long their luck would hold and commanded the dragon to remain close for now. With a warning cry, Morphindinaetlus flew off, disappearing quickly in the thickening fog.

  “I suppose you think that was terribly clever?” Aganor hissed once the dragon was gone.

  Darian shrugged and turned away. He didn’t have to explain himself to anyone. Least of

  all a traitor masquerading as an ally. If only he knew who it was, he’d kill him painfully slow. He’d give him to Morphindinaetlus as promised and let the dragon drain him for centuries. In that, there would be pain and suffering and that’s all Darian cared about. If he took over the punishment, it would be far too quick as his fury would lead the way. The Dark Mage needed to suffer for his crimes.

  Darian released his tight grip on the demon and allowed him to join them. They’d need his skills before too long, the Mage was sure. He felt the evil of this place and its overwhelming despair as he waited patiently for the demon to materialize.

  “It’s about damn time, Mage!! Why have you kept me locked up like one of your bitches? Are you ashamed of our love?” Sigorna ranted, waggling his eyebrows as he spoke. Darian chuckled and the demon laughed. One forest elf collapsed on the ground, ears bleeding from the sound. Lorin checked on him, healed him quickly and stuffed his ears with soft, elvish cloth to block the sound. Some elves were more sensitive to Oblivion’s miscreants than others.

  “Come, we must speak,” Darian beckoned and the demon obliged. The Mage cast a shield around them so they could speak freely.

  “Why have you kept me away, Darian?” asked Sigorna, sounding sincerely wounded.

  “Stop the act already, demon. They can’t hear you,” snapped the Mage. Sigorna’s eyes lit with a dangerous fire, but he kept silent.

  “I had to be careful. It took us a few weeks by ship to reach this place and I couldn’t risk your appearance aboard the vessel. I did not wish to terrorize the sailors, nor show them my power. It would tip my hand and prove that I am a Mage of The Order, for who else could handle one such as you?”

  “One such as me?” the demon retorted, eyes blazing.

  “Yes, a demon from Oblivion. You may have heard of it?” mocked the Mage.

  “Asshole,” said the demon, grinning.

  “I’ve missed your witty banter,” Darian admitted.

  “Summarize what’s happened since we were last together,” said Sigorna.

  “Could you make it sound any more sexual?” began the Mage.

  “Oh, I could indeed,” said Sigorna, rubbing his hands together in excitement. Darian cut him off and told him everything that had happened.

  “Do you honestly think that Thelarki is tamed?” Sigorna asked.

  “I don’t know. For Nephraete’s sake, I hope so.”

  “How was your passage across the sea?”

  “Fraught with danger, like every other part of my life,” hissed the Mage in irritation.

  “Well, at least you lead an exciting life, Mage.”

  “That’s not the kind of excitement I like. And I think you know that,” joked Darian.

  “Any closer to determining who the Dark Mage is? He’s a weed that needs to be poisoned so the disease doesn’t spread.”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” said Darian.

  “I can tell that there’s more you haven’t told me, Darian. Something is bothering you, nay hurting you. Spill,” demanded the Falahari.

  “Nephraete had a vision…” Darian began haltingly.

  “Mage, I swear! Why is it easier to pull teeth than get information out of you?”

  “It’s Kyler. He’s the traitor.”

  “What?! Are you daft? That can’t be right,” argued Sigorna.

  So, Darian told him about the vision the tiny seer had. The pain in the Mage’s eyes touched the Falahari deeply. He couldn’t believe what Darian was saying. There must be another explanation, right?

  “Darian, you can’t honestly believe…”

  “Nephraete saw it! She’s never wrong, Falahari.”

  “I’m not saying that what she saw was wrong, but maybe misinterpreted?” He saw the Mage c
ling to that feeble thread and hoped more than anything that that’s what it was. Nephraete was a seer though, and from what he’d personally witnessed, she’d never been wrong.

  “Darian, when you collapsed after Tynuviel, Kyler’s concern was genuine. And the way he watched over you as you built the gate in Thunder Peak; the way he stood up to me? Nah, it’s got to be something else. He repeatedly refused to leave you alone with only me watching over you. He’s always insisted on staying by your side. I can’t see him turning traitor now.”

  “You have no idea how much that means to me, demon,” said the Mage.

  “Actually, I believe that I do,” the Falahari responded. “I know that these new relationships are hard for you to accept, but you’ve done so graciously. I’ve seen some of what you Mages must live through and I can understand your reservations and why you are as taciturn as you are.

  “In the short time we’ve been working together, I have seen you fall in love, get your heart broken, and fall in love again. You’re a good man, Darian. You’re what The Order was meant to be. You’ll be a great leader and they’re lucky to have you. If any of ‘em step out of line, I’ll whack ‘em back,” said the Falahari, pounding his left fist into the open palm of his right hand.

  “Guard Renlyss and Hunter as fiercely as you do me and you shall be greatly rewarded for your loyalty. I love them, Falahari. Let no harm befall them,” commanded Darian.

  Darian was so touched by the Falahari’s words, that he didn’t point out the fact that the demon had no idea what The Order was meant to be. Darian even doubted that the original Mages knew what they should be. Based on the varied texts he’d read in his days at Piri-Tuma,

  no Mage had the same ideals or ideas of what was right and wrong, good and evil.