The Call of Kerberos (2 page)

"Kelos, remember that magic I mentioned? Well, now's the time."

Kelos closed his eyes, summoning the threads of elemental power. A coolness coursed through him as the pounding of waves thundered in his head. Beside him Emuel and Dunsany backed away as they tasted the tang of ozone that told them something big was about to happen.

Kelos stepped out of cover and raised his hands.

The ships in this part of the docks were already swaying drunkenly, the fierce power of the sea only slightly dissipated by the massive breakwaters, but the
Llothriall
now began to lurch even more than its neighbours. The guards in the foremast were having great difficulty in keeping their aim on the man who had emerged from the shadows below them. One let loose with his bow just as the boat lurched hard to starboard and the arrow sailed high into the night. A few almost found their target but Kelos didn't even flinch as the arrows thudded into the wood of the crate behind him. Instead, he concentrated on the great wheel of energy that spun through his mind. The sea surrounding the ship began to churn more furiously now and Kelos spat out the syllables that he had memorised five years before from a rare and mildewed book. For each guttural exclamation a thick rope of water erupted from the waves.

One of the guards dropped his weapon as a tentacle of water snaked around his neck. Hearing the snap of vertebrae his comrade started to scramble down the rigging, but before he could reach the deck he was thrown clear of the ship, crashing into the side of a warehouse. The last man was picked from the foremast, where he had been standing frozen in shock. His bow dropped from his numb fingers as an arm of living water encircled his waist. He looked down as the ship receded below him and then he was upside-down and the sea was rushing towards him.

Kelos lowered his hands and edged towards the dock wall but the guard didn't resurface. The tendrils of water fell, lifeless, and Dunsany and a shaken Emuel emerged from hiding.

"I think that you've found a new way to clear the decks. Don't suppose there's anything you can do for laughing boy here is there?" Kelos cast a silence spell on the eunuch. Emuel looked offended and opened his mouth, but his protest failed to emerge. "Thank the Gods for that. I didn't fancy boarding the
Llothriall
while he continued to scream the place down. Now, when we want you to sing, you'll sing okay? Kelos, lead the way."

On board, at the bottom of the steps leading below, they stopped in front of a door. Dunsany cocked his crossbow and put his ear to the wood. He was raising his arm to signal that it was safe for them to proceed when twelve inches of steel erupted from the door just by his nose. The sword was quickly withdrawn and the door burst open. Kelos flung his palms out and a fireball thudded into the chest of the man who emerged, launching him backwards down the corridor behind him.

Dunsany glanced back at his friend as he stepped over the felled guard.

"I'm warning you now that I can't keep this up for much longer," Kelos panted.

"Relax, we're almost there."

Two more short flights of steps and a long corridor led them to the heart of the ship. They stopped in front of a reinforced door, elvish script covering its surface. Kelos traced the design with his fingers, muttering something to himself. Eventually he stepped back and nodded. "That's the advantage of having designed the wards, I know how to counteract them. On three?" He drew a short sword.

"On three." Dunsany agreed, drawing his own blade.

As they charged into the room Kelos was flung against the ceiling. For a moment he thought that the boat had taken a massive hit, but then he saw the man in the corner, smiling as he weaved threads of magic, muttering strange syllables.

Kelos's windpipe started to constrict as the Shadowmage increased his hold. Below him, Dunsany was squaring off against the guards who stood in front of the magical gem that was the engine of the vessel. The stone, sitting in its housing of metal and wood, seemed to whisper to Kelos as he gasped for breath.

He watched as Dunsany swung at one of the guards. The man tumbled to the side to avoid the blow and Dunsany took the opportunity to fire a quarrel at the other guard.

When the quarrel entered his thigh, the man grunted and stepped back. However, the injury hadn't slowed him as he roared and shoulder charged Dunsany into the wall. The guard pushed his blade against Dunsany's throat but Dunsany gritted his teeth, reversed his grip on his sword and rammed the pommel into the base of the guard's neck. The man dropped and Kelos cried out a warning as the remaining guard stepped in to fill the gap.

Dunsany failed to fully evade the blow and the blade sliced into his cheek, flicking blood into his eyes. He staggered and almost tripped over Emuel, who was on the floor behind him, rocking back and forth. The guard took advantage of the stumble and swung again, this time nicking Dunsany's wrist, making him drop his sword. Dunsany raised his crossbow and fired. Kelos saw the mage in the corner blink and the quarrel turned to powder millimetres from the guard's face.

"I knew Makennon should never have trusted scum like you." The guard said, brushing dust from his jerkin. "If you ask me we didn't do enough in converting this shit hole you people call home. Unbelievers should have been put to the sword a long time ago."

Kelos continued to gasp for breath, barely conscious now. The stone was practically screaming into his head and, with a jolt of realisation, he realised what he must do.

He gestured with his right hand and cancelled the silence spell he had placed on Emuel.

"Sing Emuel! Sing or we'll all die!"

Emuel looked up at Kelos and, for a terrible moment, the mage thought that the eunuch was going to defy him. But then, he stood.

"That's it retard, sing a lament for the death of your friends." The guard raised his sword. The sound that emerged from Emuel, however, stayed his hand.

The room shivered as the song reached out to the gem. The magical energy traced veins of midnight-blue fire in the stone and all in the room felt the ship shudder as it responded to the song. The tattoos on Emuel's body flowed as the song possessed him.

The Shadowmage stepped into the centre of the room and Kelos could see a dark warning in his eyes. He could almost taste the magic flowing from the stone now and, concentrating, Kelos called forth a thread of that energy. The mage below him realised what was happening too late. He tried to finish Kelos with a word but, before he could utter the syllable, Kelos concentrated the thread of energy from the stone and blasted it into the Shadowmage. The room filled with a searing light as his body burned.

Kelos dropped to the floor and lashed out with his sword. The stunned guard didn't even feel the blade enter his belly. All he felt was the song and its ethereal cadence as it followed him into darkness.

Kelos put a hand on Emuel's shoulder. "You can stop now. It's over."

As the Turnitia docks fell away, Dunsany nervously scanned the shoreline.

"Don't worry," Kelos said. "I've cloaked the ship."

Dunsany turned to look at his friend. Wisps of arcane energy surrounded the mage in a dark amber corona.

"Shouldn't one of us be piloting this vessel?"

"Actually, I am. And have you noticed something
really
strange?"

"Apart from your new hair-do and ruddy orange glow?" Dunsany looked around him and had to admit that
everything
was really strange. The sails billowed with the wind and were utterly silent, the rainbow sheen of the X'lcotl silk moving like oil on water as it reflected back the soft light of Kerberos. Around them the ship thrummed with magical energy, veins of which ran through every part of the
Llothriall
. The vessel cut through the sea with a sureness and ease that Dunsany had never before witnessed in a ship. "We're so still."

"Indeed, the ship should be furiously pitching beneath our feet and we should be staggering around like two drunks at the end of a wedding party. Instead, we have this unnatural serenity. Deceptive really, as the power of the
Llothriall
is so vast that it should
feel
like something is happening. And it is, look back at Turnitia."

Dunsany turned. The coast was dwindling rapidly behind them, almost imperceptible through the spray and the mist. On any other ship it would have taken them most of a day to leave sight of the peninsula and, even then, they wouldn't have been able to venture too far from land due to the vicious and unpredictable currents that surrounded Twilight. But the
Llothriall
was not at all affected by the pitch of the waves. Instead, it seemed to skim across the surface.

"And this is the least of the ship's abilities," Kelos said. "Do you know, that it is actually capable of sailing under water? We must try that particular feature out some time."

"I'm glad that we took this away from the Faith," said Dunsany. "I just hope that this hiding place you have in mind is as good as you say."

"Oh yes. And, once we reach Sarcre itself I can introduce you to our crew."

"And do they know that they are going to be shipmates on this mighty vessel?"

"Well, not quite. But once they see the
Llothriall
they're not going to take much persuading. Talking of ship mates, where's Emuel?"

"All sung out. Sleeping soundly below. You think that boy's going to be a problem?"

"He's terrified of everything and he's too timid to be a threat. Anyway, there's no way for him to get back to Makennon now."

The sound of Katherine Makennon's rage was so great that the Eternal Choir almost stopped singing. The congregation who sat with bowed heads looked up from their prayers for a moment as they sensed the anger that flowed through the many halls, chambers and chapels of Scholten cathedral from Makennon's quarters. At his pulpit the Eminence's hand was momentarily stayed from making the sign of benediction.

In her private chamber Makennon stood over the priest who had delivered the news of the
Llothriall's
theft and, for the briefest of moments, considered having him excommunicated. But decisions driven by emotion were not becoming of a leader of Twilight's true faith. Seating herself once more Katherine resumed her air of authoritative calm.

"Why is it that Old Race secrets and artefacts have a habit of slipping out of our grasp? Don't these people realise that we are merely trying to use the knowledge of our ancestors to unite the peninsula and spread our message beyond civilisation?"

Around the room, the members of the Faithful looked at one another, wondering if an answer were required. One cleared his throat and seemed about to speak, but Makennon dismissed his words before he could form them with a wave of a hand.

"It was a rhetorical question Rudolph. I do not require your observations. However... do you know whether our guest has regained consciousness?"

"Our guest Anointed Lord?"

"Yes, the marine creature we recently acquired."

"Ah yes, I shall enquire right away."

"Thank you Rudolph."

Rudolph edged slowly from the room, making sure not to present his back to the Anointed Lord. Once beyond the chamber he descended through the many levels of Scholten until he was far below the foundations of the cathedral. In a corridor lined with cells he stopped at a particular door and slid back the viewing hatch. The stench that poured from the room beyond made him take a step back. For a moment he thought that the creature within had died, but then there was a wet sound as it left its water trough and approached the door.

"Prepare yourself to meet the Anointed Lord," Rudolph piously informed the prisoner.

He couldn't be sure but the sound that came in response sounded almost like a laugh.

Chapter Two

The blast of spray and the wind in his face made Silus struggle for breath as he fought with the boom. The boat leaned hard to port. One of the morning's catch took advantage of the motion to leap free of its bucket and belly-flop on the deck, before the boat lurched again and sent the fish back into the sea.

"Alright, you can have that one," Silus shouted at the waves.

He lodged the catch bucket against a bench, wrapped his right hand in a rope, pulled hard and hauled the
Ocean Lily
back on course. There was a lull then and Silus took advantage of the brief respite to lash everything down. He looked up at the clouds and considered casting out one more time, but the flicker of lightning and the kiss of warm rain convinced him that he was done for the day.

The lights of Nürn shone weakly through the mist but Silus managed to guide his boat
back by the light of the beacon that blazed on the farthest sea wall. People had already begun to gather at the harbour, hurrying to get the best of the catch.

Katya caught the rope that Silus threw to her and together they moored the boat.

"Any gemfish Silus?" called one of the punters.

"We'll get to the catch in just a moment. But first, a kiss for my wife."

Silus pulled Katya close and some of the cold of the morning dissipated as he was wrapped in her warmth. Smiling, he ran his hand over her belly and his touch was greeted by a slight nudge from within.

"A feisty wee one alright," Katya grinned. "I worry about you out there you know. How far out did you have to go today?"

"A bit too far to be honest and the catch isn't great either. I really don't understand why the shoals are sitting so far out." There was a tugging at his sleeve and Silus turned to see Mrs Greaves brandishing a couple of coppers at him. "Gemfish Mrs Greaves, yes gemfish! Well, there are three right here with your name on them."

Silus and Katya laid out the catch and all but two sold.

"Ooooh, seacrake for breakfast again. Truly we are spoiling ourselves." Katya said, tossing the sticky yellow tubes back into a basket after the crowd had dispersed. Silus put his arm around her and together they made their way through the precipitous Nürn streets to their home.

Silus and Katya had been married for almost three years. Both natives of Nürn they had met at one of the many festivals that dotted the local calendar. Katya had been immediately impressed with this softly spoken fisherman who - unlike some of the other locals - was not in the process of drinking himself into a coma or starting a fight.