Shadow (28 page)

‘The Arch Mage heard the reports and sent a team to explore. Far below the ground, there was a chamber of stone, the size of this room. It had a sliding stone door with runes on it as though cults had used it long ago. Even the groundmen did not understand the runes, and they are masters of language. Holes were gouged into the floor around it and, inside it, the light was a deep glowing red. And one wall of it was
the
Wall, light blue, just as it was above the ground. A long crack had been made in it.

‘Tii says that any who went into that stone chamber were warped and perverted by the poisons which poured through the crack from time to time. When people are shut in there, from outside you can hear strange sounds. The bad airs come through from Levaal South in gusts, like something's irregular breath.

‘The Arch had the chamber expanded. He sent more people inside it to be changed into Tormentors, and studied how to handle them. He pondered their uses, and knew they could help him win the war against the Free Cities, which back then was in doubt. He ordered the underground highway built, deep as possible, so he could transport the creatures in secrecy.' She looked at Eric. ‘Tii says that there is a big store of Tormentors being kept near the castle. Near the Entry Point. Can you guess why, Pilgrim?'

Eric nodded. He did not voice his thoughts: that Tormentors would not last long under machine-gun fire. But then, he didn't know how Earth would handle magic beings used against it, and he did not enjoy the thought of the creatures pouring in waves through streets he'd lived in.

Far Gaze came up the stairs. He said, ‘Shadow has returned.'

Everyone rushed to the window. Shadow was indeed at the water's edge, silent and motionless.

Eric had not told Far Gaze yet what he had seen in the woods, nor what the voice on the breeze had instructed him to do. He took the mage aside. ‘Keep Stranger here, and keep her away from the windows.'

‘What do you intend, Pilgrim?'

‘Just trust me, OK?' He went downstairs. Stranger sat by the window with the drake. ‘Far Gaze wants you up there,' he said.

She sighed and stood. ‘I feel for you, Eric: now you have three mages to deal with.'

‘You're pretty easy to handle at least,' he said. She laughed.

When she was upstairs he went to where Aziel lay and carefully lifted her over his shoulder, then headed down the steps and into the water.

Aziel woke. ‘Where am I?' she said groggily.

‘Among friends. Friendly enemies, at least.'

It all came back to her. She struggled weakly. ‘You'll drown me!'

He laughed. ‘You'll handle a powerful magic necklace whose purpose you can't even guess, but now you're afraid of a little water?'

He hummed to keep the winds' voices out of his ears, but could not help overhearing some things: it told him his course was the proper one; it said that the great awakening could yet be stopped; it said his mother was dead, that grief at his being away had helped to kill her —

He paused, jagged immediately out of Levaal. ‘What did you say?' he said, his voice seeming to silent all other sounds in the whirlpool's little enclave below the tower.

‘I said I don't even have a change of
clothes
here, and you're getting my dress—'

‘Shh!' But the winds just seemed to sigh sadly.

At the high window Far Gaze went pale when he saw Eric cross the water with Aziel over his shoulder. ‘What are you doing?' he yelled.

On shore, Shadow watched him come. Just once he spun about like the blade of a fan cutting through the earth. He stared at Aziel with a ghastly hunger.

‘What are we doing here? It's cold,' she said, her voice weakening. She clutched at the necklace. ‘Get it off me, it's so
cold.
'

He set her down. She saw Shadow and tried to flee; he grabbed her.

‘So that's what it is,' said Shadow. ‘It's
her.
' The dead pits of his eyes went wide, seeming as big as the sky. Aziel shrieked as she fell forward into them. Eric fell too, pulled to the water's edge by Shadow's hunger. Shadow's jaw went wide, stretching so it grew longer than his body. Aziel screamed.

Then suddenly Shadow was pulled into the necklace, his body warped and sucked in so fast Eric saw only a streak in the afterimage of his closed eyes. When they opened the apparition could not be seen.

Aziel staggered by the water's edge. Gleaming white sparks showered around the necklace. She fell as if struck. Eric picked her up and went back into the water. Shadow could not be seen. ‘It burns,' she said pitifully. ‘Why did you do that to me?'

‘I didn't know it would happen.'

‘Does that seem a good answer to you?'

‘No, now that you mention it. But you'll be OK. The mages will fix you up.'

‘He's in here,' she whispered. ‘I … I can feel him moving around. He wants to break free again.'

Eric understood: the charm had called Shadow. The charm Vyin, humankind's one friend among the dragon-youth, had made had lured Shadow into a trap. ‘Don't let him out,' he told Aziel as they went back into the tower. Far Gaze and Loup stared down ashen-faced from the top window.

Aziel didn't answer him. Her eyes were closed. He could feel heat from the charm she wore.

He was almost at the deep part of the water when movement caught his eye, past the water's edge, up among the trees. He saw a shock of red hair. Or thought he'd seen it.

Eric hurried under the tower and out of sight.

IN THE NORTH, IN THE SOUTH

1

Wind howled. At the boundary where the Wall had been, clouds pooled in a bunch above the Road then dispersed to either side of it, as though the Wall was still there instead of a veil. Gusts of mist seeped from the ground now and then, enshrouding the soldiers so that they could not see the next man along.

When sight was clear, through the barrier's roiling veil could be seen less than a mile of shadowy land, a barren plain which shifted aspect when each of them looked at it, depicting: a spread of rubble; or absolutely smooth flatness; or what looked to be a heaving dark sea.

The men across the line had set up positions a healthy distance away from the boundary. They were not quite close enough to throw rocks across it. Early on when a rebellious soldier tried to do that very thing, the god Nightmare rushed his way through the churning clouds, the long dark misty streak behind him seeming to ripple with flashes like lightning. The god stared them down, a hand sweeping across the sky as though to convey a warning not to do such a thing again. No one had.

The commanders had earlier passed down word – in all seriousness – that if they were required to fight,
Nightmare would aid them!
This in response to muttered concern in the ranks for the way their force was spread so thin across World's End. Officers lied now and then, that was a given, but
that
one was a beauty.

The stoneflesh giants had long ceased their marching. Now each one had turned to the south as though it meant to cross over. Nightmare (and Wisdom, some said, though none saw her) would go to each giant and persuade it to turn back around, facing the north again. They did, sometimes for hours, sometimes days. But eventually each one of the great creatures changed its mind and, with shuffling steps that made the ground rumble, shifted back, to face Levaal South again.

None could explain it, nor explain the strange feeling of
push
along the Great Dividing Road. It had been fine to march with, made the miles seem to sail beneath their boots. Was it all the work of their Friend and Lord?

It was on this drizzly morning that the giant closest to the Road, which had for one and a half days faced north, began to turn itself around. The ground trembled as it took two rocking steps with its huge stiff legs.

What seemed a dark cloud on the eastern sky grew large as Nightmare swiftly returned. The men turned to watch, trying to gain some understanding of the Spirit's will. Nightmare flew low, enveloping the stoneflesh giant; the Spirit was about one and a half times its size at present – his size had in these days often changed. The black cloud Nightmare had become crackled with energy. The stoneflesh giant paused in its movements as though being persuaded by a language of huge boulders breaking.

If this sight did not make tales enough for the men to take home, cries went up along the line:
A dragon! A dragon!

There – a beast came. It was no dragon; far too small! Hardly bigger than a bird it seemed, when compared with the Spirit and the stoneflesh giants. But … too big for a drake, they saw as it came near. And it flashed with many colours, as though magic was alive about it. Few drakes remained in the world, but no drake did
that.

The dragon flew fast, straight toward Nightmare and the stoneflesh his body enveloped. The dragon seemed to split into five of itself, then those five split, then those five. A whole swarm of dragons now flew at the Spirit, each one screaming in a voice it hurt the men to hear.

Nightmare moved in a blur of movement away from the stoneflesh, which immediately began to turn south again.

Two of the dragon illusions sped south-east, the rest southwest, as though they meant to cross into Levaal South. Nightmare split himself into two. The air was filled with a humming sound. Wind rushed at the men, enough wind to topple a big section of the line. There was a flash brighter than lightning, with no indication who or what had caused it. When it slowly died away, only a couple of the dragon illusions remained in the sky. They went close to the barrier, close indeed, then wheeled back in a circle, as if they had never meant to cross it.

Nightmare made a noise which shook the ground. There would be talk along the lines later about what the sound had meant, but most felt it was an expression of anguish. The nearest stoneflesh giant, while the god had been distracted, had stepped across the barrier into Levaal South, as though the play between dragon and Spirit – as though that flash of light, which had blasted most of the illusions from the sky – had finally caused it to make up its mind and go. The ground shook with its stiff unbending steps, until it was lost in the veil between the two halves of Levaal, and its rumbling footsteps grew quieter with distance. Nightmare watched it but did not pursue.

Some said they saw the dragon flying north faster than a bolt-thrown arrow, with a cry that could only have been fear; others called it joy.

2

The castle shook itself, knocking a handful of Window-watchers from their seats. The Arch Mage reached for the wall to steady himself but the quake was over before his hand touched it. It was the third such quake today, all of them minor. Vous was surely the cause, building toward his next great outburst. Staff on the lower floors were abuzz with gossip. There was an almost religious tone to it, which the Arch felt was quite appropriate, like the rites of Godstears fishermen to placate Tempest lest she deliver a savage storm.

There were no such rites for Vous. The time approached, the Arch knew, when he should flee and observe the great change from afar. When Vous left the castle, as he surely would when he'd changed, the Arch would return here.

He sensed Strategist Vashun approaching well before he heard the hollow tap of his steps through the Hall of Windows. Here he came, a tall gaunt man they nicknamed ‘Death' on the lower floors, barely fatter than his own skeleton and wrapped constantly in bandages. A capable wizard, however.

Vashun paused by a far window and stared. ‘There they are again,' he said, referring to the line of rebelling troops which had for some reason set up a picket line along World's End. Vashun sounded amused.

The Arch hobbled over to watch them too. ‘Who do you think started this nonsense?' he said.

‘Someone with faith in Pendulum theory,' said Vashun. His hoarse voice could hardly be heard.

‘You have such faith, do you not?'

‘Oh I do,' he said, turning his mirthful gaze on the Arch and not hiding the fact that he thought him a fool. ‘But it is too late to worry about it! As for stopping it with a few thousand men—' Vashun broke out into laughter which made his long stiff body twitch.

‘I feel it was Blain,' said the Arch.

‘Was I a suspect?'

‘Of course you were.'

‘Not any more? You never know.'

The Arch's fist squeezed tighter on his staff. ‘You are full of mirth today.'

‘Naturally. The world has reached a point, I feel, where laughter is one of the few options. May I ask, Arch, what is the purpose of those canisters in the hall beyond Vous's chamber? They came off the airships, did they not? Are they not filled with foreign airs of incredible purity?'

The Arch did not reply. Vashun nodded as though he'd been answered. ‘The rogue First Captain, Anfen. He put on quite a performance,' he said. ‘It got them talking, down below.'

‘No doubt.'

‘Do you credit what he said? That casting with foreign airs could change reality, even change the past? If so, I find your placing of the canisters outside Vous's chamber to be … curious. An outburst from him and he could, potentially, burn through all those airs in a second. With perhaps unpredictable results.'

The Arch turned to face him, a ripple of anger going up his throat. Through the gem lodged in his eye socket he examined Vashun's aura for any energies indicating treachery, but he saw no obvious sign. ‘If what Anfen said is true, I hold a knife to the world's throat. Not just to humankind's. To the higher powers' too.'

Vashun took this in and was a little while without speaking. ‘I did not think the loss of Aziel would stir such tender feelings in you. It is a hard thing, to lose control of something cherished. I advise a means of therapy. Take some staff from the lower floors. Not these boring ones, I mean real people with clear minds. Men or women, young or old. Entire families, as you fancy. Tell them to pack their things, they've been promoted. Bring them up. Kill them slowly, in creative ways.'