Robert Newcomb - A March into Darkness

Serena’s creatures were beaten back, but at a terrible price. Early estimates show that at least a full third of our warriors are dead or wounded. TheMalvina, the Florian, and the acolytes who captained them were lost to a giant wave that we believe was conjured by Serena. The other four Black Ships were damaged, but Tyranny says that they can be repaired. Sadly, a scout patrol led by Traax has gone missing. The longer they are gone, the more we fear them dead.

As the hours pass, I struggle with the decision about whether to carry on to the Citadel. I will confer with the other Conclave members and decide shortly. If in your judgment more warriors can be spared from the palace, please send them to us. Should there be any news about Tristan please tell us. Besides our many troubles, we all worry for him desperately.

Love,

Shailiha

Letting go a deep breath, Tristan folded the letter, then replaced it into its envelope. After sliding it beneath his worn leather vest, he looked at Kratos.

“What else can you tell us?” he asked.

“Little, my lord,” Kratos answered. “TheJin’Saiou has explained matters well. The wizards cremated our dead. Everyone worries for the fate of Traax’s lost patrol.”

On hearing about Traax again, Tristan sadly shook his head. He was glad that Ox was still at the highlander camp, and unable to hear the news.

“Thank you,” Tristan said to Kratos. “Your service has been admirable. Please wait in the hall.”

Kratos bowed.“Jin’Sai,” he said simply. He walked across the room and let himself out.

Leaning his forearms on the table, Tristan closed his eyes. “It’s my fault,” he said. “Had I come home sooner, I would never have allowed the fleet to sail.”

“I don’t understand,” Aeolus said. “You gave them the order to attack, did you not? Surely you suspected that Serena would have traps lying in wait.”

“Yes,” Tristan answered. “But that was before I knew.”

“Knew what?” Aeolus asked.

Abbey touched Tristan on the arm. “I assume that you asked Aeolus here because you wanted the wisdom of an experienced Vigors wizard,” she said. “But even he can’t help unless he is fully informed. I suggest you tell him everything that you told me.”

Leaning back in his chair, Tristan gave Aeolus a hard look. “Twice now, you have been invited to join the Conclave,” he said. “But I still have no answer. If I am to tell you all I know, it will only be after you accept membership. Will you join us or not?”

As Aeolus looked at the tabletop, a sea of emotions both old and new flooded through him. He looked back at the prince. “Aside from the fleet’s predicament, how serious is the overall threat?” he asked.

“It is the worst we have ever known,” Tristan said. “It is greater than the return of the Coven, Nicholas’ Gates of Dawn, and Wulfgar’s effort to pollute and destroy the Orb of the Vigors. I daresay it is even more dire than the Sorceresses’ War of three centuries ago. Conflicts and forces are in play that you couldn’t start to imagine.”

Aeolus looked over at Abbey. “We have known one another for a long time,” he said. “I don’t distrust theJin’Sai ’s word, but I want to hear you say it. Is the threat truly as terrible as he says?”

Abbey nodded. “Yes,” she answered. “Unless we stop it, everything we hold dear is doomed.”

For several long moments silence filled the room. Aeolus looked into Tristan’s eyes. “I accept,” he finally said.

Tristan was pleased by Aeolus’ answer. But before giving his final stamp of approval, he wanted to be crystal clear about some important points.

“I know how you feel about the craft and your school,” Tristan said. “You must promise to live here at the palace, to accept my orders at all times, and to willingly use the craft when needed. Do you agree?”

“Yes,” the wizard and martial master answered. Then he gave Tristan a smile. “I also promise to train you nearly to death in your pursuit ofK’Shari. ”

Tristan finally smiled back. “Fair enough,” he said. He looked over at Abbey. “The Conclave again numbers ten souls,” he said.

Abbey nodded. “So it would seem,” she answered, “if Traax still lives.” Realizing his oversight, Tristan nodded sadly.

For the next hour, Tristan told Aeolus all about his journey with Xanthus. Aeolus became nearly speechless at the tale. For several moments he looked at Tristan like the prince had lost his mind. “Is what you say true?” he breathed.

“Yes,” Tristan answered. “Had I not lived it, I would find it equally incredible.”

Aeolus shook his head in disbelief. “Amazing,” he said. “And yet, it explains so much. But you still haven’t discussed the immediate threat.”

Tristan’s face became grim. “Simply put,” he said, “unless we can stop her, Serena will soon have the ability to simultaneously change every right-leaning blood signature in our world leftward. With everyone of endowed blood so strongly influenced to worship the Vagaries, everywhere east of the Tolenkas, the Vigors will cease to exist. The Forestallment allowing this power is being held by thePon Q’tar. They have yet to trust its calculations to Serena’s mind. But when the right time comes, they will.”

“I beg the Afterlife,” Aeolus breathed. “Abbey told me that Wigg, Faegan, and Jessamay had found the formula allowing them to change blood signature lean. But I never suspected that all the signatures of one type or another could be affected at the same time!”

“Nor did we,” Tristan said.

“How is such a thing possible?” Aeolus asked.

“On Wulfgar’s death, Serena’s unborn child miscarried,” Tristan answered. “Before leaving for Eutracia, Wulfgar magically bound his life force to Serena’s, so that she would know if he died. But he underestimated the spell’s strength. When I killed him, the spell caused the miscarriage and nearly killed Serena. The dead baby was a girl. Serena calls her Clarice. She blames me for her child’s death.”

“Go on,” Aeolus said.

“Serena has enchanted the baby’s corpse, ensuring that it won’t decay,” Tristan said. “The corpse figures prominently in the Heretics’ plan.”

“But why preserve an infant corpse?” Aeolus asked. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Ah, but it does,” Tristan answered. “Before Wulfgar was killed, he spirited the Valrenkians away to the Citadel. Reznik, the most adept among them-and Einar, Serena’s lead consul-are conducting grotesque experiments. They are trying to refine a lost spell written by Failee, just before she died.”

“To what end?” Aeolus asked.

“To bring the dead back to life,” Tristan answered quietly.

For several moments no one spoke. Stunned, Aeolus sat back in his chair. “But why?” he breathed.

“They would use this spell to revive Clarice,” Tristan answered.

“But why is the life of one child so important?” Aeolus asked.

“Because that child’s living blood is the last piece of the puzzle,” Tristan answered. “If Clarice can be revived, she will be the only person in the world who carries the late Queen Morganna’s blood that has not been affected by a Forestallment, as mine and Shailiha’s have. It would be virgin territory, if you will. Because she is Morganna’s descendant through Wulfgar, her living blood will be of great power. It would not be as strong as mine or Shailiha’s. But it would reign third most powerful in our world-dwarfing even yours, Wigg’s, Faegan’s, and Jessamay’s.”

“Why go to all the bother?” Aeolus asked. “Why don’t thePon Q’tar clerics grant the Forestallment calculations directly to Serena’s mind now? Then she could imbue the Forestallment into her own blood and morph all of the right-leaning blood signatures at will.”