Robert Newcomb - A March into Darkness

Einar pointed one hand toward the envelopers and relieved them of their nets and cargoes. In a flash they soared skyward. Their soft undersides quickly blended into the night, replete with perfectly simulated clouds and stars. Reznik looked back at Einar.

“It is time to bring them,” the consul said.

“How can you be sure that they have all gathered here, in one place?” Reznik asked.

“Queen Serena has made it so,” Einar answered. “Failee, First Mistress of the Coven of Sorceresses, was the one who first conjured these creatures. In her madness, she did so purely as an act of vengeance, in the event that her try to convert Princess Shailiha to be her fifth sorceress failed and caused her death. With her demise, these creatures would be unleashed in retribution upon the Parthalonians. The prince and Wigg defeated the Coven, killing the four sorceresses, and Failee’s spell was soon activated.” Pausing to gaze at the lake, Einar slipped his hands into opposite robe sleeves.

“With the beasts’ arrivals, pristine lakes suddenly sprang up all over Parthalon, to provide them refuge as they went about their grisly business,” he added. “The violent legacy Failee so painstakingly bequeathed to the world has been ravaging Parthalon ever since and fulfilling her warped sense of vengeance. The beasts’ numbers soon became so great that even the Minions occupying the newly rebuilt Recluse have been largely ineffective at controlling them. They breed so quickly that there are more than ever before. They survive by feeding off terrified citizens.”

“Why hasn’t theJin’Sai exterminated them?” Reznik asked. “To us, the people living here are little more than unendowed cattle. But Tristan’s misguided love of the Vigors forces him to care for them, does it not? Should he summon all of his forces here, even beasts in these numbers could not prevail.”

Einar smiled evilly. “That is true,” he answered. “But the prince and his wizards have been exceptionally busy of late-first with Nicholas, then Wulfgar, and now the Darkling. They have had little time for such lesser matters.” Smiling, Einar turned his attention to the crowd as a whole.

Happily, and in a louder tone, he announced, “As you will soon see, Failee’s hateful legacy is about to become our gain. Her creations are perfect for our plans.”

Scowling, Reznik bristled at not being told these things sooner. Serena had told him that, in the interests of security, Einar would inform him as events unfolded.

As the specially selected consuls and Valrenkians stood by, Einar lowered the hood of his robe. His expression was calm, bordering on smugness. Clearly, Einar was the only mystic Serena trusted with all the puzzle’s pieces, and he reveled in it. But the clever Valrenkian was starting to put those same pieces together for himself.

“It must be a powerful spell that can both collect the beasts and bind them to our wishes,” Reznik mused. “How did our queen come by it?”

Einar smiled in the darkness. The wind stirred, rippling the lake surface. A small portent of things to come? Reznik wondered.

“Can’t you guess?” Einar asked back.

Suddenly Reznik understood. He smiled. “I know that Failee possessed the Vagaries scroll during her exile here in Parthalon-at least for a while,” he answered. “The spells allowing the beasts’ creation and control over them must have come from it.”

“Precisely,” Einar answered. “Now the scroll is ours. Thanks to her ability to commune with the Heretics, Serena also possesses the scroll’s index, allowing her to choose the Vagaries Forestallments at will. As the Heretics revealed their plan to her, she realized that these creatures would be of great use to us. After indexing the scroll she invoked the needed formula. Her gifts have become so strong that she can activate spells over vast distances. At her command, all of Failee’s beasts have converged here. This lake is the only landlocked water body large enough to hide them all. Our queen’s timing is perfect. Because theJin’Sai travels with the Darkling, the Conclave is confused, and fearful for his existence. As a result, they will be slow to act.”

Einar smiled. “They have every right to fear for their preciousJin’Sai, ” Einar added. “The Darkling takes him to a place from where he might never return.”

“There are many things that you and the Citadel queen understand, but have yet to divulge,” Reznik pressed. “Why does the Darkling lead Tristan to the azure pass?”

Einar smiled again. “All in good time,” he said. “All you need know for now is that you and certain of your fellow Valrenkians are here because you possess skills and knowledge that we consuls do not-skills like those involving certain knowledge of the human form, and specialized herb and oil usage. Our early experiments together at the Citadel are proof of that. We are about to forge a new future, you and I. But first I must summon the beasts.”

Einar walked to the shoreline. The other adepts followed. Reaching the shore, Einar raised his arms and closed his eyes.

The lake waters started to churn. As Failee’s creations rose to the surface, the breath rushed from Reznik’s lungs. He had never seen such monsters. Had they not been firmly under Einar’s control, he would have been terrified.

The beasts obediently lumbered from the lake to stand in the magenta moonlight. Each was covered with black, velvety hair, much like that of Eutracian sea otters. Their backs were at least as high as the humans were tall. Their bodies were easily five meters long, and large around. Each of their four feet was scaly and reptilian, ending in sharp, webbed claws that looked especially suited for tearing.

They seemed to be some grotesque amalgam of creatures. Each head ended in a pointed nose, much like a rat’s. The large eyes scanned everything with an intense, seemingly intelligent hatred. An unusually wide, thin mouth lay just below the nose; ratlike ears sat on either side of the heads. The tails were barbed all along their lengths and ended in points, much like arrowheads. Despite the presence of gills they breathed the night air normally, leading Reznik to guess that they also possessed lungs, and could survive either on land or underwater for as long as they liked.

Soon thousands of them had lumbered ashore. As they stood in the cold night air, steam rolled off their coats. Angry at having been disturbed, many hissed and snarled. Reznik saw row after row of razor-sharp teeth glint in the moonlight.

Satisfied, Einar turned to look at the other mystics. “I give you Failee’s swamp shrews,” he said simply. “Every one of them ready and willing to do our bidding.”

As the beasts snarled and glared, Reznik smiled. “They seem hungry,” he said.

Einar nodded. “No doubt,” he answered. “They need to be fed. I know just the place.”

Closing his eyes, Serena’s lead consul sent a mental order to the circling envelopers. In moments they all landed. Reznik reconnected the nets to their backs; the cargo was quickly reloaded, and the adepts again took their places. Einar looked at the shrews.

“Follow us,” he ordered. “We must reach our next destination before dawn. There you may feed to your hearts’ content.”

The enveloper pairs lifted into the sky. Using hand signals, Einar ordered them to fly low, so that the shrews could better follow the glowing nets. With the envelopers flying in circles so as not to lose them, the shrew legions lumbered along behind.

Serena’s ominous forces turned northward.

“IT’S TRUE,” WIGG SAID. SHAKING HIS HEAD WITH WONDER, he looked around the table. “The eight girls who practically barged their way into the palace last night are indeed Fledgling House survivors,” he added. “I had given them up for dead.”