Robert Newcomb: A March into Darkness

Without hesitation, Faegan flew his chair into the sitting room. Narrowly missing the hovering ring of ice, he launched over the railing and soared down toward the first floor.

Aeolus and Jessamay realized that they had no choice but to go, too. As they levitated over the railing they heard two thunderous explosions boom out. The Minions dutifully followed the mystics. Unable to go with them, Rafe and his riders charged their horses back down the hallway in search of more prey.

When Aeolus and Jessamay landed on the first floor they saw two dead consuls with their heads blown apart. One lay on the floor. The other hung on a wall, his chest impaled by an iron sconce bracket. Bits of the smashed globe the bracket had once held lay on the floor, beneath the dead consul’s dangling feet.

Faegan sat nearby. His arms were raised, and dark smoke drifted from his scorched fingertips. He faced a trembling man trapped in a nearby corner. The fellow was a fat, greasy-looking creature, and he wore a bloody butcher’s apron.

Aeolus and Jessamay immediately suspected that the man was Reznik. As they stared at him the Minions descended. Looking around warily, the warriors confirmed that this part of the Recluse was peaceful. Even so, the sounds of fighting going on elsewhere eerily drifted toward them.

Faegan glared at the man in the corner. “You’re Reznik,” he growled. “You do not wear a blue consul’s robe, and I heard your name called out from the room above.”

Reznik cowered before the wizard. “I am he,” he said. “Please don’t kill me!”

“Is Serena’s child reborn?” Faegan demanded. Knowing that there was nowhere for the Valrenkian to go, Faegan lowered his arms.

“Yes…,” Reznik answered.

“Where are they?” Faegan asked.

“I don’t know,” Reznik answered.

“Don’t lie to me, you piece of filth!” Faegan shouted.

For a moment Reznik beseechingly cast his eyes around the room like he was searching for someone to take pity on him. No one took the bait. He looked back at Faegan.

“If I answer, will you spare my life?” Reznik countered.

“I’ll consider it,” Faegan answered.

As Reznik tried to decide, he started shaking, and a stream of urine ran down one of his legs to form a puddle on the marble floor. He nervously wiped his damp palms down the front of his bloody smock.

“Serena and Clarice are on the second floor, in Failee’s previous quarters,” he finally answered.

“I have ways of finding out if you’re telling the truth,” Faegan warned him. “If I think you’re lying to me, my methods of making sure can be most unpleasant.”

“It’s the truth, I swear it!” Reznik pleaded. Suddenly a more confident look overcame the Valrenkian’s face.

“I just remembered something else,” he said. “You’re a member of the late Directorate of Wizards! You took vows against murder!” Suddenly surer of himself, Reznik laughed at Faegan’s expense. “Because I am not attacking you, you must take me alive!” he added brazenly. When he heard no response he decided to press his advantage.

“Since that is the case, let me tell you something else, wizard, ” he added nastily. “I enjoyed making those potions for Satine, and I reveled in the fact that she killed your precious Geldon and Lionel! I have tortured and killed hundreds during my career, and I loved every minute of it! My only regret is that you didn’t die with so many of your Minions in those traps I left behind in Valrenkium! I spit on their graves, you useless cripple!”

Sure that he had found the secret to his survival, Reznik held out his hands. “Go ahead, wizard, ” he said snidely. “Take me into custody.”

Faegan had become so incensed that he trembled with rage. He raised his hands and pointed his scorched fingers at the Valrenkian. Aeolus started to make a move toward stopping him, but Jessamay quickly touched him on one arm. His face grim, Aeolus took Jessamay’s advice and decided not to interfere.

If there had been any mercy in Faegan’s heart for the Valrenkian, Reznik’s boasting had just destroyed it. Taking a deep breath, Faegan decided.

“You’re wrong on two counts,” he said quietly. “First, I was never a member of the Directorate of Wizards. And second, I never took their vows.” He raised his hands a bit more.

Reznik’s look of terror quickly returned. “You said that if I told you where Serena and Clarice are, you would let me live!” he pleaded.

“No I didn’t,” Faegan answered quietly.

Before Reznik could protest, Faegan launched twin beams at him. The beams quickly blanketed Reznik’s body and lifted him into the air.

Faegan moved his arms. The twin beams threw Reznik violently across the room and headlong into a wall, breaking the Corporeal’s right arm and leg in grisly compound fractures. Then the bolts threw him across the room again like he was nothing more than some broken doll. Screaming wildly, Reznik smashed into the marble fountain. His skull split open, killing him instantly. As Aeolus, Jessamay, and the warriors looked on, the room fell silent.

After folding his scorched hands in his lap, Faegan lowered his head.

AS WIGG ESCORTED SHAILIHA DOWN THE SECOND-FLOORhallway, worry crowded into his mind. Tristan, Ox, Traax, and several warriors followed them.

Wigg knew that finding Serena’s private rooms wasn’t the problem. What truly concerned him were the unknown dangers awaiting them there. Serena was a powerful sorceress. She would savagely defend herself. Most of all, she would protect her daughter to the bitter end.

But Wigg had an even greater worry. Serena and Clarice might have already escaped. The lower regions of the Recluse were riddled with unexplored areas. There could be secret passages leading from there to the relative safety of the countryside. If Serena and Clarice were already gone, they might never be found.

Shailiha slowed as she neared the next hallway corner. Stopping, she held up one arm, then turned to look at the others. There was no fighting here, and things were quiet. Too quiet, she realized.

Wigg quickly looked around the corner, then pulled back. Double doors laden with gilt filigree stood at the far end of the crimson-carpeted hallway. After ordering everyone to be still, Wigg closed his eyes and concentrated. Soon he opened his eyes.

“Besides us, I sense only two owners of endowed blood,” he whispered. “They are each immensely powerful, and one dwarfs the other. Logic says that Serena and Clarice are behind those doors. It must be they, for it’s highly doubtful that any consul would have blood that strong.” Wigg looked meaningfully at Tristan and Shailiha.

“I suspect that the more powerful blood belongs to Clarice, your half niece,” he added.

Tristan’s response was immediate. “We must try to take them alive,” he said, “especially Clarice. Too many in our family have already died. She shares the blood of the House of Galland, and she is an innocent in all of this. I will not abandon that part of her blood which is my own.”

“I understand your feelings,” Wigg answered. “But you must also remember what the Envoys of Crysenium told you. The child possesses a left-leaning blood signature. Although she is untrained, she poses a great threat to the future. If killing her becomes the only option, we must take it.”

“What do you propose?” Shailiha asked.

“Serena will be expecting us to break down the double doors,” Wigg answered. “Instead, I’m going to surprise her. Most of the rooms on this floor have balconies. I’ll order Ox to come with me, and we’ll search until we find one. He will then fly me toward Serena’s chambers. Her rooms likely have a balcony, too. If so, I’ll burst them open with the craft. That will distract Serena from the doorway. When you hear the noise, come running and knock down the doors. We will try to take her and the child alive.”