Paul Crilley - Night of Long Shadows

“That’s impossible,” said Col. “He’s involved in all of this. He helped put the Shadow elemental inside the dragonshard.”

“No. I didn’t.”

Col and Wren turned to Diadus, who had poked his head out from beneath the table.

“What?” said Wren.

“I said, ‘No. I didn’t.’”

“But Xavien said-”

“Xavien knows nothing. It doesn’t matter, anyway. He’ll be dead soon. Just like all the rest.”

“What are you babbling about?” snapped Col.

Diadus shook his head. “Nothing,” he said. “It doesn’t matter now. Nothing does.”

Col strode forward and grabbed hold of Diadus, dragging him out from beneath the table. He squealed and tried to slap Col’s hands away.

“Let me go! You’ll regret it. I promise you.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Not me.”

“Then who?”

Wren stepped forward. “The warforged?”

Diadus stared at him with bulging eyes.

“Yes,” said Wren. “I told you I knew who you were. You created that warforged a few years ago. The one who was destroyed for killing all those people. You’ve done it again, haven’t you? You’ve created another one.”

Diadus smiled, a slow grin that made his thin face look like a skull. “Not another one. He was never destroyed in the first place.”

“What?”

“He decided to stop killing. For the time being. He said he had grander things to plan. He brought me here.” Diadus looked around the tower room. “I’ve been here ever since.”

“For four years?”

“No choice. He wouldn’t let me leave.” Diadus seemed to reach a decision. He sighed. “Please put me down. I’ll tell you what you need to know.”

Col released his grip.

Diadus smoothed down his clothing and looked at them. “There’s nothing you can do, you know. I meant what I said. It’s too late.”

“Too late for what?”

Diadus took a shaky breath. “Everything that’s been happening. All this stuff about Tiel killing the council and pinning the blame on Daask. It’s not real. It’s a cover for what’s really going to happen. When Tiel activates the shard-”

“If he activates the shard,” said Wren. “Someone’s already tracked him down to stop him.”

“Then I wish him well. Because if Tiel manages to activate it …” Diadus shook his head sorrowfully. “I had to do it. Do you understand? I had no choice.”

Wren looked at Col. The Dark Lantern looked worried.

“Had no choice about what? What did you do, Diadus?”

Wren sniffed the air. “Col,” he said. “Do you smell smoke?”

Diadus looked at Wren in alarm, then sniffed the air. “You’re right,” he said, and hurried over to the shattered doorway.

“Where are you going?” snapped Col, stepping forward to pull him away.

He didn’t make it in time. A warforged stood at the top of the stairs. Its body was so black that it was almost invisible, melding with the darkness around it. Wren could see it only because its eyes were bright white, flaring and dimming as if in time to someone’s breathing.

The scene seemed to freeze for a heartbeat. Wren saw the fear in Diadus’s eyes. The warforged reached out, almost hesitantly.

“I am sorry, father,” it whispered.

Then the warforged ran Diadus through with a blade, pushing so hard that it lifted the skinny man off the floor.

Diadus screamed in pain and the warforged yanked the sword free. Diadus staggered back and collapsed at Wren’s feet, curling up around the wound and sobbing in pain. The warforged looked at Wren, and the half-elf realized that the construct was probably standing there when he said Cutter was going to stop Tiel. The warforged’s eyes flared white, but didn’t dim. It turned and ran down the stairs. Col chased after the warforged.

Wren grabbed Diadus under his arms and dragged him across the floor, leaving a smeared trail of blood in his wake. He just managed to manhandle Diadus onto the bed when a terrific explosion ripped through the lower half of the tower. It was followed by the sounds of rending wood and collapsing beams.

Wren hurried to the doorway. As he reached it, Col staggered into the room, coughing and waving at the smoke that billowed up the stairs behind him.

“It had some sort of explosive. Everything’s on fire down there.”

“Wonderful,” said Wren. He returned to Diadus, rolling the wounded man onto his back. “Diadus! Diadus, is there another way out of here?”

“He … he has killed me,” the man whispered, and Wren thought he could hear outrage in his voice. “I … I created him, and this is how he repays me.”

“Diadus, what will the shard do? You have to tell us.”

Diadus looked into Wren’s eyes and grinned. Blood trickled from his mouth. “Everyone must die,” he whispered.

“The smoke’s getting thicker,” said Col from the other side of the room.

Wren looked over his shoulder and could see orange light flickering from the staircase. He could already feel the heat at his feet.

“Diadus, tell me! If Tiel activates the dragonshard, what will happen? What has the warforged done?”

“He has brought the end upon us,” gasped the skinny man, grabbing Wren’s wrist. He doubled over in pain, and a moment later he relaxed with a long sigh. Wren checked for a pulse. The man was dead.

“Wren,” said Col, standing near the hole in the wall, “you’d better get over here. We’ve got a problem.”

The third day of Long Shadows

Sar, the 28th day of Vult, 998

Wren looked up. “Another one?” he said, getting up to join him.

“Afraid so. See, I have one charm to feather fall. I could float down there, bring the skycoach up, and rescue you.”

“I fail to see the problem. That’s a very sound plan.”

Col looked over his shoulder as Wren approached. “It would be. Except for that.”

He pointed toward the ground. Wren grabbed the edges of the hole and looked down.

“Ah,” was all he said.

Milling around the clearing outside of the tower were about sixty feral creatures. They stood upright on two legs, but their resemblance to anything human ended there. They prowled around the skycoach, sniffing it suspiciously. As Wren and Col watched, one of the creatures leaped into the air and landed inside the vehicle, smelling the seats.

“Ravers,” whispered Wren.

As they watched, another raver jumped into the skycoach. The creature inside whirled around with a snarl and slashed at the interloper’s throat. Blood sprayed out and the creature toppled over backward. The other ravers fell onto the body, snarling as they ripped it apart and devoured it.

Wren stepped back. “I feel ill.”

Col stayed where he was, assessing the situation. He turned to Wren. “You got any more of those wands?”

“Only one that’s charged.”

Col nodded. “Good. We use the same plan. I’ll float down and secure the skycoach. You use the wand to cover me. Then I pick you up.”

The heat of the fire was growing stronger. Wren turned and saw naked flames licking at the doorframe. Smoke was pouring through the opening and piling against the ceiling like a cloud bank. “You’d better hurry. I don’t know how long this tower is going to hold.”

Col nodded and removed the feather fall charm from his pocket. “Ready?”

Wren took out the wand and steadied himself at the hole. “Ready.”

Col stepped off the tower and disappeared from view. Wren leaned over and saw him float gently to the ground, drawing his sword as he landed. The ravers hadn’t seen him. They were all gathered around the fight over the corpse.