Марк Энтони - Curse of the Shadowmage

Kellen crept down the stairwell, halting when he heard whispered voices below. The first voice he recognized as belonging to Faladar, the innkeeper. The second was unfamiliar, a grating hiss that jarred Kellen’s nerves. Cautiously, he peered between two slats in the stairway railing, into the common room below.

Faladar was arguing with someone. “I’m sure I wouldn’t know any friend of yours ,” the innkeeper said indignantly.

“Ah, but you might have seen him,” the other countered in his sibilant voice. He was swathed entirely in a heavy black robe, his face lost in the shadows of a deep cowl. “I am certain you would remember, for he is a memorable individual—a tall man with green eyes. He wears a blue cloak and plays the pipes. Or perhaps you’ve seen his companions—a woman with dark red hair, a handsome mage, and a young boy.”

Kellen bit his tongue to keep from gasping aloud.

Faladar was growing angry now. “I’ve told you that I don’t know your friends. I won’t tell you again.”

“I think you lie, innkeeper,” the black-robed stranger hissed menacingly. “I think you have seen them.”

“Get out of my inn now,” Faladar growled. He raised a meaty fist threateningly. “Get out, or I’ll—”

It happened with eerie swiftness. The stranger snaked out a gloved hand and gripped Faladar’s throat. The innkeeper didn’t even have time to scream. The black-robed man squeezed his hand shut. There was a terrible crunching sound, and a spray of blood splattered against the whitewashed wall. The stranger opened his fist, and the innkeeper crashed to the floor.

Kellen clamped a hand to his mouth to keep from screaming. Fear propelled him up the stairs. Quickly, he slipped back into the chamber where the others were sleeping. He woke Mari first.

“Who’s there?” she asked in sleepy confusion. Kellen realized he still wore his concealing cloak of shadows. He whistled a sharp note, and the dark aura vanished. The others were awake now. Mari gazed at him in surprise. “Kellen, what is it?”

He explained in quick, breathless words. Two minutes later they were ready to go. They didn’t know who was following Caledan, but considering the importance of their mission, and given the stranger’s actions, it would be best to escape first and speculate later. It was a tragedy that poor Faladar had paid for his hospitality with his life, but there was nothing they could do for the innkeeper now.

Morhion opened the round window. “It’s about a dozen feet to the ground below. We’ll have to jump.”

Cormik eyed the window skeptically. “You can’t be serious.”

The mage gave him a flat, unfriendly stare. “I’ve never been more serious in my life.”

“I was afraid of that.”

Jewel went first, leaping nimbly out the window. Morhion followed. It took a good bit of shoving on Mari’s part, but she got Cormik and his paunch through the window. He landed below with an audible thud! , but from his whispered cursing he was quite all right. Kellen was next. He scrambled easily down a vine that was too weak to support the others. Mari came last, landing on her feet as gracefully as a cat.

At first Kellen thought they had made their escape undetected. They retrieved their horses from the stable and rode hard away from the inn; no outcry followed them. Soon he heard the rushing sound of water. They were close to the river now. But then a piercing shriek shattered the chill night air. Wide-eyed, Kellen glanced over his shoulder and saw a dark form running toward them with unnatural speed.

“It’s him,” he gasped. “The stranger I saw.”

“Keep riding,” Morhion instructed. “I’ll stop him.”

The others pressed on while the mage whirled Tenebrous around. He raised his hands over his head, shouting a harsh word. Blazing purple magic crackled between his hands. With all his strength, Morhion hurled the sizzling orb of magic toward their pursuer. The orb struck its target and exploded in a sizzling spray of violet sparks. The stranger was thrown violently backward, tumbling to the ground.

The others reined their horses to a halt and returned to Morhion. The mage smiled sharply in victory. “I think our pursuer will follow us no longer.”

Cormik spoke then, his voice filled with awe and fear. “I think you should have knocked on wood when you said that, Morhion.” He pointed with a chubby finger. “Look!”

Slowly, the stranger rose to his feet.

“That’s impossible …” Mari started to say.

As the moon broke from behind a cloud, they could see that the stranger’s robe had been ripped to shreds by the force of Morhion’s magic. Now for the first time, in the pale light, they could see their pursuer clearly. It was not human.

Jewel swore. “By Shar in all her darkness, what is it?”

Morhion answered her grimly. “It is a shadevar.”

The creature took a halting step toward them. Kellen stared with terror and fascination. He had never seen anything like the shadevar. Its hide was gray and rough like stone. Onyx barbs protruded from the backs of its arms and from its sternum, while more dark spikes rose along its backbone in a razor-sharp crest. Its face was featureless, with two small pits for a nose and two small depressions where its eyes should have been. Its slit of a mouth opened to reveal countless needle teeth, and it let out a snuffling sound as it began moving deliberately forward.

“But this can’t be,” Mari protested. “We killed the shadevar. I saw it die …”

“We killed one shadevar,” Morhion countered. “But in ancient times there were thirteen of them.”

“Might I suggest we continue this argument later?” Cormik said with a note of hysteria. “Perhaps sometime when we’re not about to be gruesomely dismembered?” The shadevar was gaining speed.

“Make for the bridge,” Morhion said quickly. “The shadevari cannot cross large bodies of water. Their nature prevents it.”

The horses required little urging. They galloped wildly toward the bridge. Kellen gripped Flash’s mane tightly; he had given up even attempting to control the little pony. The sound of the river grew louder. The stone arch of the bridge loomed before them in the gloom. Without warning, Mari reined Farenth to a halt. The other horses skidded to a stop.

“Have you gone mad, Al’maren?” Cormik demanded. “Don’t stop now. The thing is gaining on us!”

“No, she is not mad,” Morhion said hoarsely.

The others followed his gaze. In the faint light, they could just make out two figures standing in front of the bridge, blocking the way. Both wore thick black robes.

“By Azuth on High,” Mari swore in a mixture of horror and amazement. “More of them!”

Once, the Fellowship had managed to defeat a single shadevar. Just barely. Now they faced three of the ancient, evil creatures. Morhion looked over his shoulder. The first shadevar loped toward them swiftly. It would be upon them in moments. The other two stood firm before the bridge, and a river too deep to ford. The companions were trapped.

“This way!” Morhion shouted, turning to the left and spurring his mount away from the road. “The edge of the Reaching Woods is less than a mile away. It’s our only chance!”

The others did not stop to argue. They spurred their mounts, leaving the road behind and thundering toward the dark wall of the forest. A cry of inhuman rage rose on the cold night air. Yet, when Kellen dared to glance back a few moments later, the creatures had vanished. Perhaps they had given up. The shadevari were swift, but even they could not outrun a galloping horse.

Jewel spoke up, her smoky voice tinged with fear. “I really hate to be negative, loves, but you might want to look up.”