Magician’s End (32 page)

Brendan leaped to his feet and almost had them go out from under him as he slipped on the mud. He regained traction just in time to face a snarling mask of reptilian hatred, as the alien magician began to conjure another spell. Not waiting to see if anyone was protecting him, Brendan took a quick step forward, and thrust, skewering the serpent with his sword. With a gurgling cry, the creature fell, and Brendan pulled free his blade.

By the time Brendan had withdrawn his sword, Sandreena, who was far more experienced at combat, had knocked over the lean-to, brained one serpent-man with her mace and turned on the second one.

The second serpent-man threw a massive wave of fire at Sandreena, who reflexively crouched behind her shield. Brendan watched in shocked amazement as flames roared around the crouching sergeant-adamant. He felt the waves of heat wash over him several feet away, heard the hissing of water on rock surfaces being turned to steam, and wondered how she could survive that heat even with no direct flame on her. It must be part of the magical nature of her order, he decided, as he saw her spring to her feet the moment the flames stopped.

Brendan charged the last standing serpent-man at the same time Sandreena did. Whatever spell the last serpent-magician had been casting died before he finished as Sandreena struck him hard enough that all could hear bones cracking as his head twisted at an unnatural angle above his shoulders.

But still the three sitting figures did not move.

Sandreena had her mace drawn back, ready to strike, but Ruffio shouted, ‘Hold!’

For a brief moment, everyone was motionless, then Ruffio knelt next to one of the sitting figures, pulled off its hood and revealed another creature, one that was somehow different from the ones that now lay dead on the ground.

‘What are they?’ shouted Brendan.

‘Pantathians,’ said Sandreena.

‘Not like those we saw down on the island with Pug,’ said Sandreena.

‘Those three are Pantathian serpent-priests,’ said Ruffio, indicating the three dead magic-users. ‘They are the ones who have been plaguing our world for centuries. These other three are called Panath-Tiandn, or Shangri. They’re somehow related, but I’m not sure how. I’ve never seen any of them before but I’ve read about them. Pug and Magnus have been dealing with them for years.’ He indicated the three motionless, living creatures. ‘These three are powerful conduits for magic, but they’re nearly mindless on their own.’

‘What do we do with them?’ asked Sandreena. ‘They seem to be unaware of us.’

‘We proceed cautiously,’ said Ruffio. ‘One of the reasons our magic was intermittent is these creatures use energies alien to us. For as long as there have been stories about them it has been said their spells skew other magic.’

Spitting water as he spoke, Brendan said, ‘Well, I’m no expert in weather-magic, but it seems this storm is still getting worse. We need to do something.’

Ruffio turned to Donal. ‘See if you get any sense of what this spell is.’

The two magicians examined the three mute figures for nearly half an hour, and finally Donal said, ‘They aren’t casting magic, Ruffio. They
are
the magic.’

‘What do you mean?’ shouted Sandreena.

‘I mean they’re giving their life-energies to this spell and it will continue as long as they live.’

‘That’s all I needed to hear,’ said Sandreena, who raised her mace and brought it crashing down onto the head of one of the three still figures.

Brendan looked at Ruffio, who nodded once. Brendan ran the second creature though the back of the neck with his blade. Donal pulled a dagger from his belt and slit the throat of the last, and within seconds the three creatures were dead.

The storm shifted with the swiftness of someone snapping a piece of damp cloth. The wind that had been howling around the island was gone, moving as fast as a bolt shot from a crossbow. The resultant following wind as the weather shifted knocked everyone to the ground.

Brendan felt his ears pop. He rolled to his knees and when he sprang to his feet he saw something as strange as he could imagine.

As if a shroud had been pulled aside, a bright sunny sky had appeared above, and he could see dark thundering rain clouds speeding away to the south-east. Trees were swaying from the winds that had buffeted them seconds before, but now the air that struck him was warm and dry.

‘That was unexpected,’ said Sandreena as she put out a hand and helped Donal to his feet.

They watched as the storm vanished into the south and Brendan said, ‘What happened?’

‘Magic that I barely understand,’ said Ruffio. ‘One thing I have learned from Pug is that magic is as much an art as a science, and while we try to fathom its intricacies, so much of what we are capable of depends on the nature of the magic-user. These creatures have a unique relationship to magic, and maybe we will never truly understand how they achieve what they do.’ He looked around at the clearing sky, then at his still-soaked companions. ‘We can speculate about this later. Now we must go.’

‘Where to?’ asked Donal.

‘I’ll take them back to the villa,’ said Ruffio.

‘I’ll stay and see if they’re carrying anything of note,’ said Donal.

‘Good. If what we’ve surmised is correct, the storm should be blowing straight out in one direction from its origin.’ Ruffio closed his eyes and said, ‘Things are returning to normal.’ He held out his hands to Sandreena and Brendan and each took one. Ruffio nodded and suddenly he, Brendan and Sandreena were in Pug’s study.

Sounds of laughter and relief came from nearby and Brendan looked out of the window to see sun reflecting off the rainwater which was still pouring from the roof gutters.

‘From the feel of that heat, it should dry out here in a day or so,’ said Sandreena.

‘I’m curious as to what happens next,’ said Brendan.

‘Want to come and see?’ asked Ruffio.

Brendan took off his cloak and said, ‘Absolutely.’

‘Me too,’ said Sandreena as she doffed her rain gear.

Amirantha entered and looked at them with a grin. ‘I see you were successful.’

‘Come along,’ said Sandreena.

‘Where are we going?’

‘To see what happens next,’ said Brendan.

They all joined hands and suddenly were standing upon a windswept stone battlement, the highest vantage point at the Black Castle. To the south a massive wall of dark, roiling clouds, shot through with flashes of lightning, swung away from them, as if anchored to the right. Everything north of the malevolent dark front was clearing nicely and the air was warm, but the storm now seemed to have retreated as far as it was going to go, and appeared to be hunkered down, as if waiting.

Suddenly Sandreena said, ‘Look, there’s something out there!’

In the distance they saw what appeared to be a ship at anchor. It was right at the southern cornerstone of the magically generated storm.

‘Look at the size of that thing,’ said Amirantha.

Even from their distant position, they could tell it was huge. ‘It’s a Quegan trireme,’ said Ruffio. ‘Huge bastard, three banks of oars on either side, ram on the prow with mechanical barbs to seize a ship. Get it in their grasp, board and loot it, then release the barbs, backwater, and let the other ship sink.’ He made a grasp-and-release motion with his hands.

‘The storm has fallen away as most as it’s going to,’ said Brendan.

‘We must have broken the spell entirely,’ said Ruffio.

‘What next?’ asked Sandreena. ‘I’m tempted to have you fly out to that ship for a closer inspection, but given that we’re dealing with Pantathian magic, I don’t think that would be wise.’

‘I appreciate the curiosity,’ said Ruffio.

‘What’s that?’ asked Brendan, pointing to the south-east.

In the distance they could see another ship, making speed with all sails tacking against the fading storm. Ruffio said, ‘Unless I’m completely mistaken, that’s the ship captained by Jason Reinman, the most fearless captain on the Bitter Sea.’

Brendan said, ‘And the most reckless. He’s making straight for that big ship. But how is he able to run so quickly against the wind like that?’

‘Bellard,’ said Ruffio. ‘He’s Reinman’s weather-magician and he can get that ship anywhere as fast as it can go. It’s one of the two secrets behind Reinman’s ability to get messages through for the Crown when no one else can.’

‘What’s the other secret?’ asked Sandreena.

‘Madness.’

‘Speaking of madness,’ said Amirantha, ‘I think he’s attacking that huge ship.’

Ruffio sighed audibly.

Captain Jason Reinman shouted, ‘All hands! Ready to board!’

Noah Williams, first mate on the
Royal Messenger
for sixteen years, had seen Jason Reinman give orders that others judged mad many times; but in all of those sixteen years, this was the single maddest order he had ever had to relay to the men. Still, he had vowed years before that if Jason Reinman ordered them to sail into the lowest hell, he would relay the order and follow the red-headed madman anywhere.

‘Boarders to starboard! Archers aloft!’ Mr Williams bellowed.

Bellard staggered to the rail as if on the verge of vomiting. Reinman shouted, ‘Downwind, you miserable souse! You know better.’

The magician took a deep breath and said, ‘I’m all right.’

‘Then change the wind up a bit to port, if you will. I need to bring this beauty around fast and neat alongside that ugly bastard.’

The vessel he indicated was racing towards them: a squat black thing that looked as much like a hideous insect as it did a ship. A long down-swept prow ended in a nasty ram, a massive black armoured thing of barbs and spikes. It had three banks of oars, moving in a slow rhythm. The sails were dark, making it even more ominous-looking than usual.

‘Quegan,’ said Williams, ‘but someone’s done a bit of work on her. Quegans like them all white and shiny.’

‘Captain!’ shouted down the knight-lieutenant of marines who had his bowmen in the yards above. ‘We see no crew aloft.’

‘But there’s movement on the decks!’ shouted another.

Without warning, a flight of creatures launched themselves off the deck of the black ship and came speeding across the gulf between the two craft. They were about the size of monkeys, with red fur and bat wings, with large jaws and a vast number of claws on each hand.

Sailors screamed in shock and anger and began fighting back. Archers shot at the creatures, most missing, but when a steel-headed shaft struck the red creatures, they burst into flames. The clamour on the deck of the strange ship rose in volume as more monsters came swarming up out from below decks.

Reinman shouted, ‘Turn us and make all speed!’ He looked to the drunken weather-magician. ‘Bellard, as swift a following wind as you can muster without ripping our masts out.’

The magician’s face was devoid of colour. Whatever he had endured in the service to the Crown previously hadn’t prepared him for what he saw prancing and leaping on the deck opposite: nightmare shapes of every description. ‘Demons,’ he said.

Reinman looked at the magician and realized he had been frightened sober and would therefore be of no use.

Then grappling hooks from the black ship snaked out and bit into the side of the
Messenger
. They were outmanned, out of position, and had no advantage. Reinman shouted, ‘Prepare to repel borders!’ drew his cutlass and hurried down to the main deck.

Looking down from the castle above the headlands, Brendan said, ‘What is going on?’

‘Demons!’ said Amirantha.

Sandreena regarded her former lover. ‘You’re certain?’

‘I can feel them. There must be dozens.’

Sandreena looked at Ruffio. ‘Either we let them all die, or we get down there. They’re no match for a crew of demons.’

Ruffio closed his eyes for a moment, then said, ‘Help will be on the way soon.’ He reached out and Sandreena, Brendan, and Amirantha joined hands.

Instantly they were on the quarterdeck of the
Royal Messenger
. Chaos was erupting on all sides. Brendan lashed out at the first flying creature that came his way, severing its wing. It flopped to the deck and fluttered around, smoke flowing from the wound, then suddenly erupted into a small green-blue flame and vanished.

Amirantha had been frustrated for years that he could no longer control demons, but he still knew how to banish them back to the fifth realm. He lashed out with a spell aimed at three large brutes which were poised to leap from the deck of the massive black ship onto the
Messenger
and instantly they were gone in a puff of black smoke. He concentrated on banishing the larger and more dangerous of the demons he could see. Within another minute, a half-dozen of the most loathsome of the creatures were gone.

Ruffio blasted a group on the lower deck, freeing up beleaguered seamen so that they could better coordinate the defence of their ship.

‘We’ve got to get over to the other ship!’ shouted Sandreena.

‘Why?’ asked Ruffio.

‘Demons don’t sail ships,’ she said, crushing the skull of an unfortunate flyer that had sped too close to her. ‘Something over there is controlling them.’

Ruffio craned his neck and saw that the upper wheel-deck of the other ship was empty. He reached out, they joined hands and suddenly they were on the other ship.

Brendan knew little of magic, but just placing his feet on the deck of this vessel made his skin crawl. He looked around frantically to see if their presence had been detected yet. The horrors on the deck were swarming over the rails, leaping aboard the
Royal Messenger
.

Amirantha said, ‘Whatever’s controlling this vessel and crew is below.’

They hurried down the short ladder to the main deck and opened a companionway door that led down. Below, they found the first level of the rowers’ deck; down the middle ran a large walkway from stern to bow. As miserable a crew of slaves as one could imagine were pulling the oars. Half a dozen demons raced along the central walkway whipping the slaves, who appeared to be mostly human. Amirantha took aim at one particularly noxious creature carrying a massive, bloody whip and incanted a spell of banishment. Suddenly he was gone.