The Vitalis Chronicles: White Shores (19 page)

He slammed the phone down and stared daggers at the moron in front of him. Effective at soldiering, he thought for a moment, not so much at putting pieces of puzzles together.

“Did you see what I just saw?”

“Sir?”

“The video, the video that you just played for me, you were watching it, weren't you?”

Brutus looked at his bag, then back at his Mayor. It seemed an overly obvious question. Those usually meant the fat little man was getting angry. He straightened his shoulders and nodded curtly.

“Dear God, man! Those soldiers were all facing out when a man walks in with a sword and hacks them all to pieces?”

“Sir, it's Silvers.”

“It's not Silvers! For the love of... it's the damned Shadow King! Those men were ambushed from within their own outpost! He didn't walk through any damned door or they would have heard him come in!”

“Either way sir, we'll kill the bastard.”

It finally clicked for Brutus. Under his assumed air of confidence he realized how serious this was going to get. He had never actually faced a Shade on his own, he had only heard stories. Silvers was one of the few men left in the military who had any experience fighting Mages and Shades. Now it turned out he was one.

He thought it over for a minute longer. “That's why he didn't seem hurt when they shot him up.”

“He probably didn't feel a single bullet pass through him, the bastard.” Merodach walked around the desk and placed his pudgy hands on the broad shoulders of his general. “I need you to go down there, prepare your men, and end this menace before he comes in here and murders us both.”

“I think there are some Hunters in the garrison right now.” Brutus' mind was flying.

He might not be too quick on his feet with politics and intrigue, but he could handle anything that revolved around violence with speed and ruthless efficiency.

“I can get them to cook up their gear and provide some advantage.”

“Just remember he knows all of your tricks.” Merodach wasn't satisfied, though he doubted he would get any peace of mind until this was all over. “And for God's sake, don't lead your men from the front. I can't afford you getting skewered or sliced to hell tonight.”

The alarm went out as the tower was sealed and the Guard alerted.

“Time for me to go, sir.” The big general turned to leave.

“Just remember that that isn't just Silvers you're dealing with out there!” Merodach called after him. “That's the goddamned harbinger of death stalking us tonight, Brutus!”

B
RUTUS STEPPED INTO
the elevator and watched as the ornate arm rotated slowly from thirty to twenty-five. He walked out as the doors opened, the Mayor's bodyguard already scrambling to secure the floor. He couldn't see their eyes through the black-tinted shields covering their faces but he nodded to them as they hastily saluted. He didn't have to see their eyes to be able to sense their fear.

He walked from the secure, executive elevator across the room to the public lift that would take him through the government offices and to the ground level. He turned and faced the room as the silver doors slid in place in front of him. He hoped this was all just a false alarm, but experience suggested otherwise. Merodach didn't explode like this unless things were desperate.

Perhaps he was cracking, he hadn't left the tower in a month. Maybe this was the opportunity Brutus had been waiting for to form a coup and take over the government. It was an old thought recently brought back to life; proposed by the haggard medium he had begun to frequent lately. His ambitions had been piqued. Why wait any longer to rise to the top?

The elevator dinged quietly as the doors slid open, their inscribed surface causing Brutus' reflection to ripple strangely as they passed over his image. He stepped into the lobby and waved off the security detail as they allowed him to leave the building. A number of officials and clerks who had been working late stared after him jealously as he claimed his freedom from the office-turned-prison.

His long legs led him quickly down the street to a small truck that was waiting and would take him to the Guard barracks about ten blocks up. The city streets, laid out in a large circle spiraling out from the center, were packed with onlookers. Curious citizens poured out to see what all the commotion was about. The imposing city wall that flew above him to his right seemed impenetrable, even by the King of the Shades. He couldn't fly, Brutus reasoned, and even though he'd never faced one himself he figured that it couldn't just walk through walls. It would have to make its entrance where the wall was weak. A door, or a drainpipe.

He got on the radio as he stepped into the truck and shut the door. His driver saluted and then pulled out, navigating as best he could through the crowds that were forming in the streets. Curiosity was bringing the city to life as the howling alarms sounded in the evening.

Brutus raised the colonel in command of the Guard on the radio. He was waiting for the call. “You've got your men assembled, Ryan?”

“Yes sir,” Colonel Ryan responded over the radio. His voice sounded tinny but deep through the box mounted under the dashboard of the truck. “Ready to roll sir, what's the situation? Because if this is another drill, you could have picked a better night sir.”

“No drill, Colonel. Watch the insubordination,” he grumbled. He was in no mood for banter with his officers tonight.

It was almost completely dark out, the last street lights of the large city blinking on.

“Aye sir, your orders?”

“You have Hunters staying with you tonight?”

“Aye sir, just came in from the south this morning.”

“They good for a fight?”

“You know Khrone's sir, always ready to bloody someone's nose.”

“Get them ready, and get them to set up their mobile shelters.”

“Would you repeat that, sir? I thought I heard you say shelters.”

“You heard me correctly, Ryan.” Silence came over the radio. “Ryan? You with me Colonel?”

“Sir–” The colonel paused, gauging his next words carefully. “You're telling me there's a Shade on the way, sir?”

Brutus noted the truck jolt a little as the eavesdropping driver over-corrected his drifting. He ignored it. “Not just any Shade, Colonel. The damned King is paying us a visit.”

Silence again for a moment. “You're shitting me sir.”

“Wish I was, Phil. Let's give him a royal welcome though, eh?”

“I'll get them moving, but I doubt they've got any maintained equipment. We haven't seen a Shade since Silvers killed the... well, the King. Did you say the Shadow King is coming to–”

“They're the same damned person, Phil. Silvers is the Shadow King.”

“I... uh...”

“Just get your men ready, I'll be there in five.”

“Right sir, we'll be ready for you.”

The radio clicked as the colonel closed his channel. The sirens on the wall started again as bright lights lit up the ramparts. They sounded long and deep in the night, resonating in the warm air as they bounced off buildings and city walls opposite a few miles away. Brutus began to sweat, the thought finally connecting to reality.

Oblivion's Angel was descending on the city from which he had been banished. The Shadow King was coming to Elandir.

A
RDIN'S FEET COULD
best be described as sore hunks of bruised flesh attached obstinately at the ends of his legs. They barely functioned to keep him upright any more. The endless running and walking was finally catching up to him. Alisia's begrudging allowance to join her seemed like it could have well been a mistake to him now. He wondered regularly why he had wanted to come along so badly. Ignorance was all he could figure any more.

They had walked west unmolested for a few days. It allowed them to take their time and pick through the craggy valleys that led down from the White Forests into the gorge that was home to the Rent: the largest tributary of the Elandris that flowed out of the westernmost portion of the Northern Range. It's name came from the way it seemed to cleave its way between the mountains and the highlands that ran down to meet the cliffs along the coast.

The Rent met up with the Elandris just east of the head of the Delta, upon which sat the last major port city on the northwestern coast of the continent: Brenton. Rather, it was the last since the Peninsula had been vacated by Charsi’s wrath.

Ardin found he enjoyed those few days in spite of the discomfort, even if his charge didn't seem to share his pleasure. He breathed easy, taking in the scents of late summer as harvest took place in the plains to the south. It brought back good memories of home. Eventually even his feet started to toughen up.

They were a good eighty or ninety miles from Levanton by now and the hills had turned rocky, covered in tall grasses and the occasional bush or shrubby tree. They didn't really have much in the way of destination, they simply wanted to put distance between themselves and their past.

Alisia didn’t say much, which hadn't bothered Ardin to begin with. But every silent step made him less certain of whether or not he should be there. Somehow he had hoped that she would be glad to see him, would welcome his companionship with open arms. Her reception had been less than fulfilling.

“Where are we going?” he ventured to ask.

She didn't bother to respond for so long that Ardin started to wonder if she had heard him.

“White Shores,” she said finally.

“What's in White Shores?” he asked. The name sounded somehow familiar. “I mean, I've never even heard of it.”

“Safety... peace.”

“Have you been there before?”

“Once,” she said wistfully. “When I was a little girl.”

“So it's been a while?”

“You could say that.”

“How are we gonna get there?”

“I don't know.”

Ardin rolled his eyes. This was like pulling weeds with bare hands.

“So where are you from? I mean, where did you come from?”

“All over.”

“Ok... How about the Hunters? You've run into them a bunch I bet, right?”

“Not really, they haven't been around for a long time. Not many Mages to hunt. I bet I'm the first one most of these guys have actually ever seen.”

“Oh.”

The sun was waning, and Ardin couldn't help but admire the beauty of the skyscape as the clouds lit up in a brilliant array of colors over the tall grasses.

“So where did you grow up? You must have been a kid once right? Like me for example, I grew up in Levanton. You've been to Levanton right?”

“Yeah, I've been there.”

She turned down into another gorge, trees reaching up to meet them as they worked their way slowly down the rough path. Ardin let himself focus on his footing for a bit before talking again.

“So you didn't grow up in Levanton, I could tell you that much.”

“True enough.”

“Brenton?”

“No.” she almost laughed. “Not Brenton.”

“The Peninsula? It's not too far north of here.”

“No, I've never been there, to be honest.”

“So where?”

She sighed, resigned finally to the endless questions.

“When I was little, my mother was still traveling a lot, trying to bridge the gap between humans and Magi. We visited White Shores once for a while. She was discouraged... she needed someone to give her direction. She needed wisdom.”

“She got that in White Shores?”

“Yes,” Alisia sighed longingly. “It's a good place.”

“So where did you go after that?”

“My mother, she was feared. I think that should be obvious to you by now. So much that they wanted to capture her, to imprison her, and to kill her. They were too scared to kill her in the end, they didn't know if they could withstand the release of her power.”

“So they took her from you?”

“No.” She paused as she thought about it. “She gave me up to protect me, at least that's what she said. I was given to members of the Old Guard for safe keeping, and they took me to the desert south of Liscentia. When they realized how poorly I was doing there, and their resources grew too thin, they decided to find a family to watch over me.”

“Wait, that means you were around during the Purge? How long were you there? In the desert I mean.”

“A long time. Anyways, I lived with a family for a while, and after their own children grew up and left home, we moved to the mountains. That was almost a year ago.”

“Oh! You were living with the Lucases! The old mechanic and his wife! I remember when they moved into town. We needed a mechanic bad. They talked about having a daughter but we never saw you.”

Ardin stopped talking when he realized she had. Alisia lost her taste for conversation at the mention of her adoptive family. She'd never told them how much she'd appreciated them.

The gorge proved treacherous territory to navigate, and as they worked their way into it, they slowed significantly. Finally they stopped to make camp and get a good night's sleep. Alisia even made a fire to keep them warm. Ardin managed to sleep some in their small clearing between the thickly growing trees. They crowded themselves as they grew into an indent in the southern wall of the gorge. It was a nice spot, and where the Hunters caught up to them in the night.

Alisia had heard them first, sitting up in the half light of the fire's glowing embers. Her bright eyes darted around the tiny clearing. Ardin was dozing on the other side of the fire. She wished for a moment that she'd let him sleep closer to her, but she pushed it out of her mind. She didn't need him.

She got into a low crouch as Ardin slowly came to, and motioned silence with her finger over her lips. He couldn't see what she was looking for as she kept her back to the trees and rock wall beyond them. The foliage in this valley was surprisingly thick for all of the rugged terrain they had covered in the past two days, but it seemed to grow more plentiful the closer they got to the Rent.

He paused, squinting the sleep from his eyes as he looked around but by the time he was able to focus, she had disappeared. Then they came, flying out of the darkness and into the little camp. Ardin was on his feet in a flash but was met as quickly with a fist to the face. He scrambled to avoid the following kick but failed, his breath refusing to return as he choked on the ground.