The Grand Crusade (25 page)

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Authors: Michael A. Stackpole

Tags: #Fantasy, #Science Fiction

BOOK: The Grand Crusade
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“Good, thank you.” Finally, she looked atPerrine. “What aboutyou, sister?”

“There is one thing I don’t like about this plan.”

“What?”

“I cannot be with all the groups at the same time.” Peri flashed talons. “The Nor’witch has had her way too long. She thinks you a fool at her peril, sister. We will make her pay dearly for her mistake.”

Isaura had never seen her mother in such a state. Chytrine had the slender young woman fast by the wrist, dragging her along through the caverns beneath her citadel. She’d returned to Aurolan barely hours before with Nefrai-kesh and a prisoner. Isaura didn’t want to think of the woman that way, but her fear and the manner in which Chytrine had her bundled off bykryalnirireally left her no choice in the matter.

Isaura’s white hair flew behind her as they sped on. Her mother, slightly shorter and thicker, with gold-blonde hair, made her way through twists and turns effortlessly. She entered tunnels Isaura had never known existed despite living her entire life in Aurolan. Traces of magick around some entrances led her to believe what were now open had recently been shut away.

The gibberers following them, dragging another prisoner, did not have trouble negotiating the course. She was uncertain if that was because they had ventured this way before, or if their devotion to Chytrine kept them in dogged pursuit.

Chytrine looked back over her right shoulder at Isaura. “Daughter, it is imperative that I share with you some information. Though you are not blood of my blood, nor flesh of my flesh, you are truly my daughter. What I have withheld from you until this point was only so you would be ready to know it. I was easily twice your age before this truth was made manifest to me, but you are far more mature than I was.”

“Thank you, Mother.”

Their pace slackened a little as their surroundings grew a bit warmer on the downward path. “I need to tell you of the world and its origins. There was once a time when all that existed was a swirling chaotic ball. Imagine every blizzard you have ever seen, combine them and lace them with the elements, and even

that will not be close to what existed. From within that chaos came a people wise and powerful. They are the Oromise, and they shaped this world out of the chaos. They made it their home.“

Chytrine’s voice had sunk into husky soft tones, taking Isaura back to the nights when the empress had told her soothing tales of Aurolani heroes and their grand exploits, or milder tales of boreal creatures who were alive with magick. The story her mother was telling her now would have had that same fantastic character to it, save for the tight grip on her wrist and their relentless progress deeper and deeper into the folds of the earth.

“The dragons came to this world, and the Oromise welcomed them. They were not the dragons we know now, but mere worms, barely capable of thought. The Oromise protected them and nurtured them, developing them into the grand creatures they are. That is why dragons have no native culture. They are true beasts of the chaos, and live to destroy. It is their nature and, foolishly, the Oromise thought they had carried the dragons past it.

“Elves then entered the world and the Oromise were kind to them. At that time forests covered the face of the earth, and the elves spread far and wide. They did not disturb the dragons, and the dragons barely noticed them. All would have been at peace, but the elves are creative creatures and they paid homage to the Oromise. They fashioned things of wood and metal, beautiful things, creating in imitation of the Oromise, who created so much. The elves offered them worship and sacrifices. That pleased the Oromise. It also made the dragons jealous.”

Indignation filled her mother’s voice. “The dragons attacked the elves, burning and killing, stealing the treasures they fashioned for the Oromise. The Oromise reacted and struck the dragons down. They demanded the return of the stolen things, and the dragons—yet treacherous worms—agreed but plotted. Jealous servants that they were, they revolted against the Oromise and a great war ensued.”

“That’s horrible, Mother.”

“It was. Most horrible. The Oromise created many manner of creatures to aid them in their battle. The urZrethi yet exist, as do some others, in pockets, here and there.Grichothkaand vylaens are descendants of some, and thekryalniriI have made in the image of others. The war ravaged the lands, splitting the forests, poisoning rivers and oceans, and doing more damage than we could possibly imagine. The dragons tried to create their own allies, but the best they could do were the Panqui. Despite that lack of success, the dragons were most terrible in war, as they yet are.

“The Oromise realized that by engaging in the war they were letting dragons inject chaos into the world. The very act of war was destroying the place they sought to preserve, so the Oromise withdrew, inward, into the earth, and walled themselves away. There they have waited, quiet and peaceful, knowing a time would come to reclaim what is rightfully their creation.”

They came around a corner and the nature of the passage changed. Up to that point the walls had been little worked and bore all signs of being natural formations. The path had been smooth, something Isaura knew was not likelyt0 occur without help, but she accepted it without thinking. Now, however, a broad staircase opened down to a large semispherical room. It had no floor, but descended into a dark well, the bottom of which Isaura could not discern. A narrow causeway extended halfway into the room.

Her mother paused at the top of the stairs. “I did not know of this place until the time of Kirun. When those who came to kill him arrived here, I fled deep into the tunnels. You know I can assume many forms, including the dragon you have ridden in high summer. This is because I am of a dual nature: both urZrethi and dragon. Loyal servant to the Oromise and rebel. I unite these two aspects and seek to undo the injustice perpetrated by the one half. Down here, safe, I heard the Oromise whisper to me. I learned the truth, and it made me free to do all that needed to be done.”

Chytrine gave her wrist a tug. “Come, you’ll see.”

Wordlessly, Isaura drifted after her. She stopped on the bottom step and allowed twogrichothkato bring the prisoner to the causeway. She had been bound hand and foot and was forced to kneel toward the end of it.

Chytrine dismissed the gibberkin with a wave. The furred creatures scampered up the stairs and out of sight. Isaura fought the urge to race after them and instead watched her mother move onto the causeway.

The Aurolani Empress grabbed the prisoner by her brown hair and hauled her head back, extending her throat. The woman, Vionna, had once been the queen of the Wruonin pirates and servant to the empress. She had obtained a fragment of the DragonCrown for her, but lost it again to the Norrington and his companions. She had become a grave disappointment to Chytrine and through the whimpers and trembling of bluish lips, Isaura assumed the woman knew that.

Chytrine’s voice filled the room’s bowl. “Hear me, ancient Masters and Mistresses. In Your purpose I have been engaged. Another of Your servants has been destroyed. I offer You this sacrifice in hopes You will find something of worth to enable this unworthy servant to continue her service to You.”

Vionna’s eyes grew wider. “Sacrifice? Don’t do this.”

The empress’ gold eyes half lidded. “You are scrap from which They will make a masterwork.” She took a step back, then kicked Vionna full between the shoulder blades. The pirate grunted and skidded toward the edge, then slipped off. She made a desperate grab for the causeway lip with her knees, but failed and fell screaming into the darkness.

Isaura shivered. She had never liked Vionna, so would not miss her. She did not know what her fate was to be, but that did not concern her. Yet her mother’s coldness, the sharpness of the kick, that was something she had never seen before. Though she loved her mother dearly, this was an aspect that unsettled her.

A weak wave of magick pulsed up through the well and gathered in the room’s bowl as smoke gathers beneath a roof. Isaura could almost see it as smoke, drifting and boiling, then it all contracted and flowed toward one spot on the wall opposite the stairs. The stone there began to glow red and shift. The redness flowed into an oval shape. A dark line formed across the middle, from edge to edge, then it opened as might an eyelid. Beyond it Isaura could only see blackness, but a blackness with depth, as if the sky robbed of stars.

Chytrine dropped to her knees and by reflex Isaura did as well. A voice, neither male nor female, and somehow plural, filled Isaura’s head. “Your gift, our pet, pleases. Joy will be had from its working. Who behind you stands?”

“This is my daughter and heir, to be learned in the ways of Your service. She is Isaura.”

Isaura felt an intensity of attention paid to her, as if a hard stare, but one capable of penetrating her flesh and bones and even her soul. She kept her head bowed and her body rigid. Somehow she choked back a scream.

The presence withdrew. “Also pleasing. Your choice we approve.”

Chytrine bowed far enough forward to touch her head to the stone. “Your service is what I live for. Your pleasure is my only pleasure.”

“Tell us how your endeavors have our cause advanced.”

“All is prepared for the grand victory that shall sweep opposition away. Discord has been sown in the enemy. Your great gift of firedirt has been passed to the most rapacious and ambitious among them. Already they fear his advances and this blunts their efforts in the east. There, they are putting the trust of their armies in a young woman. She believes in the power of prophetic dreams—dreams that will lead her in a series of victories. With Your other gifts, we will break her cycle of dreams and shatter her forces.”

“And of the Norrington?”

“He is gone, and with him their hope. They move from clinging to that prophecy to this one about Alexia.”

“The worms nothing suspect?”

“No. They are aware that I alone can reassemble then destroy the DragonCrown. They will give it to me and I will re-create it. Instead of destroying it, however, I will use it to force the greatest of the dracomages to unmake the magicks that hold you prisoner. You will be free once more.”

The eye widened slightly. “Magick stains you.”

“Yes.” Chytrine hissed, sat back on her heels, crossed her arms, then drew them back. Her hands ran across her collarbones to her shoulders, then down over her breasts, belly, hips, and thighs. In their wake glowed a blue mist with a golden lattice playing through it.

That lattice dissolved and Isaura caught a sense of residual magick. She could not discern the nature of the spell, but she knew who had cast it. She had seen him at Nawal in Muroso. He had slain asullanciriand thwarted the efforts of the Aurolani sorcerers to bring the city’s siege to a quick conclusion.

“Cunning spell, pet. You noticed it not?”

“No, Masters and Mistresses, but he who cast it has been dealt with.”

“You should have given him to us.”

Chytrine again prostrated herself. “Forgive this unworthy one.”

“We shall, for reasons that defy logic. Of the crown, three pieces remain.”

“Two we are close to getting. The last, however, is elusive. It will be found. Your will shall be done. I have made arrangements that even if I fall, I shall not

fail.“

Isaura shivered. She had no idea what her mother meant by that, for she had been given no instructions. If her mother trusted her, she would tell her.And if she does not, then how can I truly be her heir?

“See to it you do not fail.”

“Never.”

The voice ceased and the eye closed, but the magickal intensity in the room did not slacken. Suddenly the hole snapped open again and something flew from it, spat forth wetly. It hit high up on the stairs, and began to slide down, but claws extended through the thick mucus coating it and scrabbled against rock.

The creature got its feet beneath it, then sliced apart the membrane encapsulating it. The turgid coating sloughed off and flowed down the stairs, leaving a lithe female form covered in closely cropped black fur, save for the tip of the tail and a thick midnight mane covering neck and powerful shoulders. The tail lashed once, then the tufted ears rose.

The creature turned to look at Isaura, revealing a whiskered muzzle and bright blue eyes. Lips peeled back to flash ivory fangs. Still weak of limb, the thing could not stand, but did manage to drag her legs up and twist. “What have you done to me, witch?”

Chytrine glanced over her shoulder. “You have had the honor known to few of mysullanciri, to be transformed by my Masters and Mistresses into a tool of their will. You were once Vionna and would have been a queen. They have made you a god. You are now Nekaamü and shall be second only to Nefrai-kesh. You will be his consort, doing his will and mine.”

Nekaamü hissed, then stretched her muscles. She pulled her right hand before her face and watched, fascinated, as her claws retracted and extended. She licked at her yet wet fur, then her eyes narrowed. “At least I am no longer cold.”

The Oromise voice resumed. “Our reward pleases you, pet?”

“It is more than this one could have ever hoped.”

“As is your service to us. You will free us again, and our pleasure shall know no limits. Our gratitude will similarly be unbound.” The opening again closed and the magick fled as if drawn into the void beyond it. Isaura shivered again and slowly climbed to her feet.

Chytrine remained on her knees for a moment, whispering in a tongue Isaura did not understand, then bowed deeply before rising. The empress smiled at her daughter. “There is much for you to learn. The first is to be able to

find your way here. The Oromise will always protect you. You need not fear them, daughter. With them as your allies, there is nothing for you to fear.“

“I know that, Mother.” Isaura smiled as sweetly as she could.

“Good, this pleases me. Come.” Chytrine mounted the steps, avoiding the remains of Nekaamü‘s afterbirth, climbing in the wake of thesullanciribounding up the stairs. “With what you have learned today, you need never fear anything again.”

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