Authors: Tom Bielawski
Tags: #Fantasy, #Speculative Fiction by Tom Bielawski
“Fine,” agreed the Cjii after a few moments. “But I have another condition as well.”
Zach groaned inwardly, but nodded.
“You will hand over the items that you took from that Red Dragon assassin. You will give them to me, as they have no business in your hands or anyone other than a
Nyzyr.
“
You will not stay in Powyss. You will depart immediately for the Everpool in the company of a woman who is looking for you as we speak. Her name is Balzath, a Dark Disciple in the service of Umber. Your skills and knowledge will enhance our chances of reaching the Everpool before the
Fyrbold
does, Shadowblade.”
“So be it,” said Zach quickly. Powyss suddenly seemed unworthy of his presence and he wanted to reach out into the world with his new powers. And he knew that the
Nyzyr
would not tolerate his presence in the city after he killed their leader.
“So be it,” the Cjii repeated. “You cannot escape the terms of this arrangement, should you try you will find yourself condemned to inexplicable torment. Now, step from your circle,” said Baelor, eying him greedily.
Zach knew from the spell book that he must be free from the protection of the circle in order to accept the powers of the immortal Baelor. And even though he knew that once the words “So be it,” were spoken the bargain was made and could not be broken, he was still inherently uneasy being so exposed. But Baelor stepped into the open too and the pair shook hands. The moment Zach placed his hand in the cold, lifeless, hand of the immortal, a terrible pain overwhelmed him. As the pain drove him to his knees and the Cjii laughed mercilessly, Zach realized the possibility of ultimate betrayal.
But in a moment the pain was gone, and it was replaced by the thrill of energy coursing through his veins. He felt powerful, nimble, strong. He knew now that he would become an unstoppable force and nothing would stand in the way of his quest for power, he would rule nations!
“You feel the power!” said Baelor, with a laugh of triumph. “Yes, you will become my greatest weapon, Shadowblade! But there is one other thing you should know.”
“What is that, Dark One?”
“Now that you are a weapon of darkness, part of your essence exists on the Plane of Shadows,” the Cjii said with a smirk. “You are, in effect, a
shadowling.”
“A
shadowling?
” he asked, panicked. “Aren’t they undead?”
“Something like that!” laughed Baelor.
Zach was getting angry and his mind raced. Could he undo the bargain? Could he banish the Cjii?
“You’re bound to me now! You are not truly undead, but you will have some of the benefits of the undead. You cannot be harmed by mortal blades, you can turn yourself into a shadow and disappear.”
“I feel hollow now. Different.”
“Indeed,” laughed the Cjii without pity. “You are no longer part of the world of the living. Your soul is now bound to me and will remain so, ensuring that you cannot turn away from my grasp. You now serve the Great Lord, Umber!”
Zach said nothing. He shook off his indecisiveness. There was always a price to pay for power, and if immortality was that price...so be it.
“I understand. What else must I be concerned with?”
The Cjii explained in detail the extent of Zach’s new powers and the assassin was eager to leave Powyss. He felt the power coursing through him and wanted more than ever to reach the Everpool before Carym. He wanted to show Carym how powerful he had become and how worthless was the cause of Zuhr. Perhaps then he might convince his old friend to join the winning side.
“Hello, Zach,” came a voice drifting through the darkness, rousing Zach from his semi-unconscious state. He tried to remember what had happened to him last night and some of the night’s events drifted back to him. After his bargain with Baelor was complete, and he had learned that Baelor wanted him to continue searching for the Everpool, Zach prepared his room and his things for departure at first light. Then he decided to sleep. But this voice, a voice that he had heard before, roused him from his very deep sleep. “Or perhaps I should call you
Shadowblade?
”
With incredible speed, Zach rolled off his bed and extended the point of his weapon toward the familiar figure standing before him. To his surprise, however, the blade struck an invisible barrier and made a ringing sound that broke the stillness of the room.
“
Very
good,” laughed the shorter man, bespectacled eyes glimmering in the light of the oil lamps in his room. “And yet, not good enough for the one called the Shadowblade. Why
do
they call you that? What is it about you, I wonder?”
“What do you want?” he demanded, surprised that the man would be in the wreckage of
The Siren’s Call
. “Why are you here, Baldric?”
He was shocked to see the old man standing in his room. He supposed he should have assumed the man would have his spies throughout the city. After all, he could not have kept the secret of the Shadowblade much longer. But Baldric looked far more formidable now than when Zach talked to him across the wooden counter in his shop. The old shop owner was wore a cloak of crimson and black, but the hood was down allowing Zach to see his blazing and sunken eyes. It was clear to Zach now that, as he had suspected when they first met, this man was far more powerful than his simple appearance let on.
“Your allegiance. You wanted power, but it seemed to me that you already had power. Enough of it to wipe out a fourth of the Red Dragons in Powyss. I suspect that your power stems from that wonderful dagger of yours.” The old man’s voice was kindly, but it did not fool Zach into complacency. “You have caused great mischief in my city, great mischief indeed. But the damage you have done can be undone. There are other things at stake in this city that concern Umber.”
“
Your
city?” asked the invisible voice, perplexed.
“Yes,” answered Baldric, as though he had not noticed the question was not Zach’s. “
My
city. I rule here, the Lord Mayor is my puppet. A pawn in Umber’s great game. But he is a puppet soon to be replaced.”
“Why should I swear allegiance to
you?
” he asked, scornfully. “I have already sworn allegiance to another, and Umber’s plans do not concern Powyss.” Now that Zach had endured the process of being bound to Baelor and receiving the gift of power from him, Powyss seemed much smaller and less interesting. He truly was eager to begin his journey to greatness.
“Hmm, yes. You are bound to that fool, Baelor. But that
binding
can be undone. And do not believe that Baelor knows the will of Umber.”
“What?” he asked, perplexed. The thought of undoing a binding was intriguing. Would he retain his powers? “How is that possible?”
“How is anything possible?” said the man, his voice shifting and more sibilant now. Then the man’s entire image shifted and changed before Zach’s very eyes. What stood before him was not the old man who managed an antiques shop, but a powerfully built and muscular man with a ram’s skull for a helm including horns curling out from the sides. Each of the two horns were entwined with a seemingly live snake whose head rested on the horn’s tip, eyes glittering. His face was narrow beneath the helm and a long black goatee reached partway down his chest. He was armed with a number of daggers and knives, a dark sword at his hip, and a bow slung across his back. The man wore lightweight leather armor that seemed to be made from human hides that still bore the taught faces of their former wearers. “The power of the Shadow is great, far greater than those of that fool, Baelor.”
“Who are you?” he whispered in awe, stunned by the change in the man’s appearance. He had suspected Baldric of concealing greater power, but this was beyond his wildest imaginings.
“I am Cerunnos.”
“Cerunnos, the great Horned Hunter! You work for...” his voice trailed off as the implication sank in. The Horned Hunter was the legendary figure from nightmares and fairy tales told to scare unruly children. He was A Shadow Hunter of the Dark Lord, Umber. He was a scout and assassin who fell under the command of the Dark Paladin when that man fell into the Shadow and marched an army across the Northern Continent. He was a ruthless hunter and no prey ever escaped his grasp.
But those were just fairy tales.
And yet, just the night before he had undertaken a bargain with a powerful lord from the Shadow Realms, Baelor. And before that he had struck a bargain with a lich prince in a city that had never been proven to exist beyond myth. He steeled his resolve. He would not cower before this man from his childhood nightmares, this man that had pretended to be a keeper of antiquities and relics. He was worried. He knew that Baelor had granted him great power, but he did not expect to be forced into using his untested abilities so soon.
“Although you killed so many,” began the Hunter. “You did me a favor by ridding me of that fool
Nyzyr
, Fellsmere. He has been a thorn in my side for some time. Without him creating trouble, the
Nyzyr
will enter an alliance with the Red Dragons for a greater purpose.”
“What could the Red Dragons possibly offer me that I do not already have?” he asked brazenly. Instinctively he knew that any sign of weakness or fear on his part would lead to his own doom. “They are weak and pitiful and I dispatched their finest with ease.”
“Indeed,” agreed the Horned Hunter. “Tartarus has not chosen his followers well. There will be a great cleansing that will begin with the Lord Mayor. I am offering you the position of new Lord Mayor of Powyss!”
“Lord Mayor,” he repeated softly, thinking of the power that would come with ruling a city like this. He could influence the criminal gangs and control trade routes. He could build his own navy and raid nearby lands for plunder. “But why?”
“Tartarus has failed,” said the Shadow Hunter dismissively. “He will be dealt with by the Dark Lord himself, and has been replaced by me. I can assure you
I
will not fail. However, your remarkable powers would help me in my own cause to bring all of Ckaymru under the sway of the Dark Lord. Lord Mayor today, perhaps Rhi tomorrow. Think of the potential you would have with an army of the Red Dragons and
Nyzyr
at your back!“
Zach did indeed think of the potential. If he were in command of the Red Dragons he could train them and outfit them better, and turn them into a real fighting force. He could overthrow the Rhi of Ckaymru! He could be a king!
“Yes,” whispered the sibilant voice from behind the confines of his mask. “You feel the power that is offered you.”
Zach wanted to say yes, he wanted to accept the offer of power. He could just see the jealousy in Carym’s eyes when his old friend learned that Zach had become a king! But the power of the binding that tied him to Baelor was strong within him, too strong. He could not accept. His mission was greater, far greater. And the potential rewards for completing his task were far greater than being a mere king.
Perhaps he would even become one of Umber’s Shadow Hunters!
“Why do you not use your great powers of disguise and become the Lord Mayor yourself?” he asked, stalling. He knew that Baelor, and Umber, would not be pleased with him if he turned up late for his rendezvous with the witch, Balzath.
“That is not your concern. It should be sufficient to say that I cannot be tied to the daily constraints of ruling this city.”
“I am immortal now, like you. Why would I choose to accept your offer?”
“You may be a
shadowling
, but you are not like me! You’re powers are insignificant compared to those of us who have served Umber for centuries!” said the man angrily. “Those of us who are Umber’s Shadow Hunters are bound to the Shadow Tides themselves, and the Shadow Tides are bound
to
the Hunters! As long as we live, the Shadow Sigil will remain!”
Zach stood his ground. The powers of the Shadow were truly incredible, but Zach had to think about escaping the deadly Cerunnos. The Shadow Hunters of Umber were those who were given immortality and great power in exchange for their souls. This one would very likely destroy him in seconds if he did not use every advantage he had. He would truly have enjoyed the prestige that would come of besting one of the Shadow Hunters, but he knew he did not have the time and the necessary advantage to win. Therefore he must escape.