Jon Sprunk - Shadow's master

Then a sound like distant thunder echoed over the field. Josey held her breath as she saw them: Walthom's light horse charging down the hill. The morning light gleamed on their shields and lances, pennons fluttering in the breeze. The crash of steel and splintering wood as they struck the invading force resounded across the battlefield. Walthom's cavalry pierced deep into the enemy's flank, trampling bodies as they went.

But the Uthenorians' numbers were too great. Enemy units turned to meet the new threat, more and more with the passing minutes, until Walthom's momentum was blunted. Josey looked to the west and almost missed the charge of the Eregoths.

High Captain Keegan rode at the tip of the wedge as his men crashed into the enemy from the opposite direction. There was no order or pageantry about the rise and fall of their swords and axes as they clove deep into the invading host. It was slaughter in its purest sense.

The breath she'd been holding whistled through Josey's teeth as the two opposite forces crushed the enemy flanks and rolled them back. The crossbowmen renewed their barrage on the enemy. If the center held just a little longer…

“Is there anyone we can send to reinforce Sir Brian's position?” she asked Hirsch.

He opened his mouth, but a loud explosion scattered his words. A plume of black smoke rose from the battlefield amid rows of soldiers in shredded armor. Josey stood up in the stirrups, her heart thudding in her throat, but there was no sign of Brian. His banner had vanished in the oily cloud. A roar like the ending of the world broke over the valley, and the daylight fled under the rising pall.

“Down!”

Hirsch snatched her down by the arm, but she had already seen it. Him. The enemy warlord had crossed the stream. His bodyguard cleared the way before him. Those few soldiers who had held their positions at the front line were smashed aside like cloth dolls, and the warlord rode through their blood.

“Can you help them?” Josey asked Hirsch.

But the adept's eyes were closed. His lips moved to a low sound like the purr of a bullfrog.

“Master Hirsch?” she asked.

“Shhhhh.” He put a finger to his lips. “He's getting close.”

Yes, I can see that! And if we don't stop him, all the schemes and tactics in the world won't save us. The warlord waved his gauntleted hand, and another explosion rocked the battlefield, this time closer to her position.

Remaining still while the explosions walked closer and closer like the footsteps of an invisible giant was the hardest thing Josey had ever done. She wanted to kick her heels into Lightning's sides until the field was far behind. I need to do this. For all who have died today for me, I can at least show that much courage.

She watched the approaching death with her chin held high. From across the sea of clashing arms, the warlord faced in her direction with his hand out, one finger pointing as if in accusation. The debris from the next explosion showered down on Josey's head. She wanted to shake Hirsch as he continued his mantra, but kept her hands locked on the reins, afraid she might scream if she didn't have something to hold onto. Then the adept took off without a word on his nimble steed, leaping over the smoking crater and out of her sight.

Josey held back for a moment, and then shook the reins. Lightning took off like his namesake. She bent down over his muscled neck, his mane flying in her face, and wondered what in the name of the gods she was doing. But she knew one thing: if her army was destroyed this day, she would go down with her men. She freed one hand to press against her belly. Forgive me, little one. It's not fair. I love you more than you can know, but I must do this.

She didn't wipe away her tears this time, but let them run down her cheeks as she plunged into the fray.

Caim emerged from the portal with his knees bent and sword extended, ready to meet an attack. But nothing happened.

He was surrounded by the rough walls of a cavern, their slopes clad in cascades of white crystal up to an unseen ceiling. The floor was uneven. Stark blue light shone from a low, uneven archway ahead of him. Caim stole through the arch toward the eerie light, and paused at the entrance to a cavern even longer and broader than the throne chamber above. The light came from the center of the floor, where a rich, azure flame rose from a stone urn, throwing deep shadows across the walls and ceiling.

The Shadow Lord stood with his back to the entrance. He looked smaller, bent and crooked like an old man. Caim focused on an imaginary spot between his enemy's shoulders as he started across the cavern. But halfway to the flaming urn he stopped, his gaze drawn to the wall beyond the Shadow Lord where a cave mouth yawned. A cold dread settled over Caim as he realized it was no cave, but the gateway he had seen in the vision. Utterly black, massive in proportion, it sucked in all the light around it. As soon as he saw it, Caim felt a sharp pang in his head. This was the source of the pulling. All this time he'd been thinking it was his…

Caim spotted a slim figure immersed in the gateway. She wasn't moving, and at first Caim thought she might be unconscious, but then her eyes sought him out from across the cavern, the same black eyes as from his childhood memories.

Mother!

Caim couldn't stop from taking another step, but the Shadow Lord's cool voice brought him to a halt.

“We aren't the first people of the Shadow to find this world.”

Abraxus turned, looking nothing like the imposing dark lord he'd been before. His robes hung loose on his frame now, his complexion a dingy sallow pocked with brown spots. “The tribes of these wastes have a myth of an immortal tyrant who ruled over them centuries ago. When my family and I arrived here, it was simple enough to assume the role of this eldritch despot returned to life. Few as we were, we succeeded in subjugating the local peoples and began the construction of this city. It was to be a monument to a new empire, a new world.”

Caim took a step, hefting the black sword. “What have you done to my mother?”

The Shadow Lord lifted his hand, and a shudder went through the cavern. Shards of crystal and stone shattered on the floor. Caim thought he saw his mother's eyes shift, but it might have been a trick of the light.

The Shadow Lord sighed, or perhaps it was a stifled groan. “Isabeth was my last hope for a new chance for our people. My shining jewel. And look what this world has done to her.”

Caim ground his teeth together. “The world didn't do this to her. The world didn't send soldiers to my father's home to kill him and steal my mother away. You did those things.”

“All to ensure the survival of our people. When we crossed over into this world, the rift we created remained open.” The Shadow Lord shuffled a step closer to the void, and to Caim's mother. “At first this was desirable. Despite your brilliant sun, we grew in strength and power, strong enough to scorch the sky and begin to make this world more hospitable to our needs. But we also noticed changes in the Shadow. Minor incongruities at first, but they grew to the point where it became obvious the Shadow would not stop until it had devoured this entire world, just as it consumed our homeland.”

The Shadow Lord shook his head as if talking to someone else. “Once I realized the danger, I held the gateway sealed for as long as I could, but as the years passed it became more difficult, more insidious in its ways to defeat me. My daughter did not always agree with my methods, but even when she ran off with that…with the man who was to become your father, I always believed she would return. She understood that the gateway to the Other Side needed to be controlled.”