Robert Newcomb - A March into Darkness

As the probing warriors approached the Recluse, Tristan looked over at Shailiha. She gave him a short smile, telling him that she agreed with his decision. After nodding back he took the spyglass from Wigg.

His face grim, Tristan watched his troops cross the field and near the halfway point to the Recluse. Still there was no resistance. As the troops advanced, Tristan started wondering if the castle was indeed abandoned. He lowered the glass and looked down at the deck, thinking.

Had Serena already managed to revive her dead child? If so, had she fled? He knew that she would probably not return to the Citadel, for the Conclave was well acquainted with its existence. With the help of her rogue consuls, she and Clarice could easily hide in Parthalon until Clarice was the proper age for the other part of the Heretics’ mad plan. The Conclave might search for decades and never find her. Suddenly he heard the sounds of battle, and he looked to his troops.

Rising from the castle lake and surrounding ponds, thousands of snarling swamp shrews raced toward the approaching warriors. At first Tristan was startled, but then he remembered that the Minions had battled shrews before. Raising the glass back to one eye, he watched the shrews and the warriors tear into each other.

Hundreds died on either side as shrews eagerly devoured their victims and frantic warriors cut the snarling beasts down with abandon. Twisting the spyglass cylinders, Tristan looked closer to see two shrews attack a struggling warrior. Pouncing on him from behind, they tore the warrior’s legs away, then dragged off the upper half of his body to start greedily feeding on him.

But five other warriors had seen his plight and took to the air. They soared over the two shrews to hack them apart with their dreggans. Amazingly, the warrior that had been torn apart was still alive, writhing in agony on the bloody grass. As a fellow Minion came to stand over the stricken warrior, Tristan knew what would come next. Without hesitation the warrior raised his sword high, then brought the blade down hard into his fellow soldier’s heart, ending his pain.

Tristan tried to find Traax but could not. As the battle progressed, Tristan tensed. His highly outnumbered ground troops were losing. He soon wondered why a retreat hadn’t been called, also forcing him to fear that Traax might have been killed. Blood and body parts from both sides lay everywhere as the killing went on unabated.

Tristan lifted the spyglass toward the five hundred warriors circling the sky. When he saw them fold their wings into place behind their backs, he knew why. Confident that no threat existed in the air, they couldn’t continue to watch their fellows being slaughtered. Plunging vertically into free fall, the warriors went to the aid of their stricken brothers.

Feeling more confident, Tristan lowered the glass and nodded. This will help even the score, he thought. If they can kill all the shrews, we will sail for the Recluse.

Raising the glass again, he turned it on the castle. Suddenly he saw something that he didn’t understand. Twisting the lenses, he brought the majestic fortress into sharper focus.

At first he thought he must be dreaming. Parts of the castle walls looked like they weremoving. Stunned, he watched thousands of small wall areas start to shimmer and shift. Soon they somehow lifted away to blend into the morning sky. Then they were gone. Had he not been looking directly at the castle walls as they departed, he might never have seen them. His heart pounding, Tristan shoved the spyglass into Wigg’s hands and pointed to the sky.

“Look there!” he shouted. “Augment your eyesight and tell me what you see!”

Wigg hurriedly put the spyglass to one eye. At first the wizard saw nothing. Then he applied all the power he could spare toward sharpening his vision. Even using his gifts he could barely see the thousands of shimmering shapes flying through the air.

Taking on the exact hue of the sky surrounding them, they started diving down onto the flying warriors plummeting to help those on the ground. As they lost altitude and Wigg’s viewing angle on them changed, the shimmering shapes started changing color to perfectly mimic the green grass over which they flew. Wigg shuddered as he realized that the unsuspecting warriors would never see them coming.

Then Wigg saw Minion warriors suddenly start disappearing. They weren’t being cut down by whatever was attacking them. Instead, they simplyvanished!

Trying to regain control over his emotions, Wigg twisted the spyglass cylinders to follow one warrior’s progress and see what might happen. He soon got his answer.

Like so many others, the warrior was nowhere to be seen. Looking closer, Wigg found the lower parts of the warrior’s boots, but nothing else of him. Then the boots were hauntingly lifted a meter or two off the ground. They shook violently for a few moments, then fell back to earth and lazily toppled over. To Wigg’s utter amazement, the warrior’s body armor, weapons, and bones materialized out of nothingness to fall into a ragged pile. He thought he saw a shimmering shape move, then nothing. Somehow, the grotesque pile was all that remained of a once-living, breathing warrior.

When Wigg lowered the glass, there were tears in his eyes. “You must order a retreat,” he told Tristan.

Tristan snatched the glass from Wigg to try to see what had so disturbed the wizard. But without the benefit of Wigg’s gifts, he couldn’t identify the threat. All he could see were scores of Minion warriors suddenly disappearing from view. Looking farther, his blood ran cold when he saw the growing piles of Minion weapons, armor, and bones. He was about to order a Minion bugler to fly to them and blow retreat when from afar he suddenly heard its call. Traax or some other designated warrior must have ordered it, he guessed. He was relieved to hear it.

As the few remaining warriors started retreating, it seemed that they were not being pursued. Letting go victory cries, the shrews lumbered back to submerge into the Recluse’s lake and surrounding ponds. Unseen by Tristan and his forces, Serena’s envelopers returned to the sky and again flattened against the Recluse walls, perfectly mimicking their color and texture.

Tristan scanned the killing field. The once-proud group of one thousand volunteers had been cut down to several score, and most of them were wounded and bloodied. Realizing that the defeat had been total, theJin’Sai sadly lowered the glass and closed his eyes. As the battered Minions started finding their way back aboard, Duvessa and some of the Conclave members rushed to tend to their wounds.

Tristan turned to look at Wigg. “What just happened?” he breathed.

Wigg shook his head. “I am as much at a loss to explain it as you,” he said. “But Faegan, Jessamay, and Aeolus were also watching. I suggest that you order them to theTammerland. Perhaps they can shed some light on this mystery.”

“I have your mystery right here,” they suddenly heard a familiar voice say.

They turned to see Traax standing there. He was covered from head to foot in some kind of dark gray slime. Four warriors stood by his side. In their arms they held a highly unusual creature.

At a gesture from Traax, the warriors dropped the strange carcass to the deck. With the thing’s death, its camouflage had gone. As Tristan hurried closer, Traax sheathed his dreggan, then pointed to the beast. Tristan had never seen anything like it.

“I was lucky,” Traax said. “When that thing surrounded me, I was sure that I would die. That is all the warning those bastards give. Two of my officers saw it morph and rushed to my aid. Not knowing what else to do, they started hacking at it with their swords. Being smothered by that monster was not an experience I would care to relive.”