A March into Darkness dobas-2 Page 3

  Also known as the Corporeals, his group had been granted sanctuary by Wulfgar. There were nearly two hundred of Reznik’s kind here on the island. Corporeals possessed partial, left-leaning blood signatures. They specialized in producing dark wares of the craft that they sold for profit. With no market left in Eutracia for their deadly wares, they gladly served the new queen of the Vagaries at the Citadel. Despite how much Serena looked down on them, even she had become impressed by their unique abilities.

  As the leader of the Corporeals, Reznik was an expert herbmaster, potion blender, and cutter-healer. But he had little experience with royalty, and now he made the mistake of speaking first.

  “Has the new Vagaries servant entered Eutracia?” he asked.

  Serena glared angrily at him, then turned to look at the handmaidens. They each quickly looked at the floor. She turned back to glare at the Corporeal.

  “Not here, you fool!” she admonished him. “Follow me.”

  She strode past the two men, then caused the doors to open. As she walked out into the daylight, her servants followed. The twin doors shut heavily behind them. Saying nothing, Serena led them through the Citadel’s inner ward.

  The island fortress was a majestic place. The Citadel walls rose straight up from the island’s rock. The many interior buildings and turrets were interconnected by an ornate series of catwalks suspended high in the air. Manicured gardens and majestic fountains dotted the grounds. There had been many nights when she and Wulfgar had walked these grounds, talking and dreaming of the day when they would rule the craft, and watch their daughter grow to womanhood. But those days were no more.

  Her mind often drifted back to her early captivity in this remote place-days that later led to her enlightened worship of the Vagaries. She loved following their dark teachings. Before departing for Eutracia, Wulfgar had granted her the Forestallment that allowed her communion with the Heretics. She knew her gifts were easily a match for those of the Redoubt wizards. And as the Heretics had told her, not one of her Conclave enemies could commune with the Ones-an advantage she would use wisely in the days ahead.

  Still, disadvantages loomed. The demonslavers-the macabre army Wulfgar had employed to invade Eutracia-were all dead, leaving the Citadel largely unguarded. The majestic Black Ships in which Wulfgar had transported his army had also been lost to her. But she still had nearly one hundred consuls at her command, plus the Corporeals. Most important, she possessed the Scroll of the Vagaries-the ancient document containing every Vagaries Forestallment calculation known to man.

  She knew that the Conclave would try to take the scroll from her. But by then she would be ready for them. Soon the Redoubt wizards would be dealing with an entirely new host of problems, the likes of which they had never seen.

  Choosing a stone bench beneath a willowberry tree, she sat down. As the breeze ruffled her mourning gown she reached down to smooth out the dress. Einar and Reznik came to stand before her. When she was satisfied, she looked up at Reznik.

  “Never discuss our plans before my handmaidens,” she said. “You and your people are merely guests here. I will kill you without remorse if you violate my confidence again.”

  The blood rushed from Reznik’s face. “Yes-yes of course, Your Grace,” he stammered. “You have my deepest apologies.”

  Serena nodded. “Now to answer your question,” she said. “Yes, the Darkling has arrived in Eutracia. By now he should be about his mission.”

  Einar smiled. “That is indeed good news,” he said.

  “Yes,” Serena answered. “TheJin’Sai and his Conclave are about to get the shock of their lives. I wish I could be there to see it.” She suddenly remembered the little corpse lying in state in the crypt, and her face darkened. “Though it will never make up for Clarice’s death,” she added softly. Einar and Reznik waited while she composed herself.

  “Is there news regarding the project I entrusted to you?” she asked her consul at last.

  Einar sighed. “The issues are complex,” he answered. “We have done almost all that can be accomplished here at the Citadel. Once we have traveled to Parthalon, the real research can start. But as you know, before we leave we must be sure that the Citadel is protected. The Redoubt wizards and theJin’Sai andJin’Saiou will soon come for the scroll-and for you.”

  Serena nodded. “Keep me informed. Your work is vital to the Heretics’ plan.” She again looked at Reznik.

  “And you?” she asked. “Have you and your group been helpful to my consuls?”

  “We have been as much aid as our limited gifts allow, Your Grace,” Reznik answered. “The going is slow, but Einar and I believe that we are on the right track. Every Valrenkian is doing what he or she can to aid the cause.”

  Serena nodded. “Good,” she said. “Leave me. I have much to consider and I wish to be alone.” With deep bows, the two men left for their respective research areas.

  Finally alone, Serena looked around. The birds were singing again, and the early-afternoon sun felt good on her face. Standing, she looked up to the barbican surrounding the fortress. She gently levitated herself.

  Higher and higher she soared as the sea breeze billowed her black gown. She landed gently atop one of the wall guard paths, then turned west to look out over the Sea of Whispers.

  The dark blue ocean tide was high. From where she stood she could smell the salt air and hear the waves crashing in their endless assault against the shore. The white gulls called noisily to one another as they sought out their next meal.

  Enjoy what peaceful time you have left, Jin’Sai, she thought. You will soon pay for your crimes.

  CHAPTER IV

  “NO, NO, NO!” WIGG CRIED OUT, RAISING HIS HANDS INfrustration. “You’re losing her again!”

  Seeing that it was already too late, the First Wizard braced himself.

  The great ship fell a good ten meters through the air, then slammed mightily back down onto the ocean. The impact shot seawater plumes high into the sky, and the vessel heeled hard to starboard. Faegan’s chair on wheels nearly tipped over. Wigg slipped to one knee. Seawater fell down, drenching everyone again.

  It was plain to see that the two wizards were becoming furious. For her part, it was all Jessamay could do to keep from howling outright. Twice this morning she had already laughed uproariously, adding to the wizards’ growing aggravation and embarrassment.

  Sister Adrian stood nearby with a sheepish look on her face. Her red acolyte robe lay soaked against her skin, making her plump figure look thinner. Her sandy hair lying wet on her shoulders, she pursed her lips, then looked toward the deck.

  She would have to try harder next time. If she didn’t succeed soon, she feared that the First Wizard’s head might explode with frustration.

  It was a sunny day in Eutracia, and the sea winds were light. It was a perfect time to start the acolyte’s training, the two wizards had decided. But as they stood on the drenched deck, they were starting to have their doubts about this project.

  With the consuls’ safe houses finally dealt with, the group had returned to Tammerland two days ago. They were all glad to be home, but many important actions still awaited the Conclave’s attention. By mutual agreement, the most vital of these was to devise the plan of attack against the Citadel.

  There was more than one reason why capturing the Vagaries scroll had become so important. Without it, Serena and her traitorous consuls would be far less powerful. Wigg and Faegan were acutely aware that the longer she held the document, the greater the likelihood that she would imbue herself with yet more Forestallments. And with the scroll safely in the hands of the Conclave, other Vagaries practitioners would find themselves at a distinct disadvantage. But no matter the Conclave’s battle plan, the siege of the Citadel would be problematic. With the bulk of the Minion armada destroyed, the Black Ships would have to take them there.

  Providing I ever get these monstrous vessels to obey my commands, Adrian thought. She had to admit that as the morning wore on,
she was becoming less and less optimistic.

  Fuming and stamping about like a wet hen, Wigg angrily shook the water from his robe. Then he reached over one shoulder to grasp the braided queue of gray hair falling down his back. After squeezing out the seawater, he tossed the braid back again.

  Adrian heard a strange noise. She turned to see several fish flopping around on the deck. Pointing a finger at them, she called the craft and tossed them overboard.

  Faegan tilted his head. Inserting a finger into one ear, he tried to free some trapped seawater from his ear canal. His gray hair lay all about his shoulders. Finally overcome, Jessamay just had to laugh again. Wigg scowled.

  “What’s so funny?” he demanded. “This is serious work!”

  “That might be,” she answered, “but I just can’t help it!”

  The blond-haired sorceress was as wet and frustrated as the others, but it didn’t seem to bother her. Smiling, she placed her arms akimbo.

  “You should see yourselves!” she exclaimed. “Wigg, I haven’t seen you this perplexed since you were a boy! You had just accidentally blown up your father’s laboratory. As I remember, Faegan was in on it with you. You two were inseparable, even then! Let me remember-what was it that you miscreants were trying to do? Ah, yes-something about perfecting a spell that would allow you the power to turn lead into gold. I thought your father was going to kill you both!”

  “I remember,” Wigg grumbled. He looked down at Faegan to see the crippled wizard still trying to drain his ear.

  “They wereyour calculations, you know!” Wigg hollered at him.

  Faegan looked up crookedly. “Oh?” he shot back. “Just who can remember back that far, eh?”

  Wigg quickly pointed a bony index finger. “You can!” he thundered back. “Or have you forgotten about your power of Consummate Recollection?”

  “Uh, excuse me,” Adrian said as she walked nearer. “With all due respect, this isn’t getting us anyplace. Our goal was to teach me how to empower the Black Ships-not to fight among ourselves, remember?”

  Sighing, Wigg rubbed his brow. “Yes, yes, I know,” he said. “But you aren’t grasping the concept.”

  All morning, Wigg, Faegan, and Jessamay had been trying to teach Adrian how to fly one of the Black Ships. Six of the huge vessels had survived Wulfgar’s attack on Tammerland. The five others lay quietly at anchor nearby. If the Conclave’s plans were to succeed, the ships would be needed soon.

  Each ship was easily four or five times the size of the largest that had once served the Eutracian fleet. Every part, including the sails, was solid black. Each of the ships’ five black masts rose dozens of meters into the air. Eight full decks lay below their topsides. Despite their huge size, these potent vessels could not only rise from the sea, but fly through the air with great speed. Due to other enchantments, they were nearly impervious to traditional forms of attack. One Black Ship is easily the equivalent of many normal vessels, Wigg was fond of saying.

  Several weeks earlier, Tristan had ordered that a bright red image of the Paragon be painted onto each ship’s huge foresail. It had taken an entire Minion host more than a week to finish the job. When freed to the wind, they were an amazing sight.

  The ships were all more than three hundred years old. Once the mainstays of the Directorate of Wizards’ battle fleet, they had been sunk by the Coven during the Sorceresses’ War. Using a Forestallment found in the Scroll of the Vagaries, Wulfgar had raised them and pressed them into his service. Now spoils of war, they were again firmly in the control of the Conclave. But the specialized gifts of those trained in the craft were required to unleash their amazing abilities.

  Walking back over to her three teachers, Adrian looked at them humbly. Seawater still dripping from his robe, Wigg shot her a questioning glance.

  “Are you ready to try again?” he asked.

  Adrian nodded. “Yes, but I believe it would help if you explained the theory once more.”

  “Very well,” he answered. Taking a deep breath, he looked into her eyes.

  “As I have told you, this is a binary spell,” he started, “and they can be tricky. ‘Binary’ means two parts. As you can imagine, tri-spells and quadra-spells are even more difficult. In this case you are not trying to levitate the ship, then push it forward over the waves. Instead, you must change the atmospheric conditions surrounding her. Using the calculations we provided, first you must create a strong vacuum, just above the ship. If the spell is strong enough, the vacuum will attract the ship, causing her to rise.

  “Performing the second part of the spell-while also maintaining the first-is the truly delicate part,” he went on to say. “You must simultaneously enlarge the vacuum and cause it to flow down toward the bow. Only then will she hover while being pulled forward. Instead of the wind pushing her from behind, this vessel ispulled into the emptiness of the morphing vacuums. And as we have already seen, if both parts of the calculations are not properly maintained, then the spell fractures, and the ship falls back into the sea. Now then, shall we try again?”

  Nodding, Adrian recalled the complicated series of calculations. She raised her arms.

  At once the ship started to rise. She wobbled a bit as her massive hull laboriously left the ocean surface. Dripping seawater from bow to stern, she slowly climbed about twenty meters into the air.

  Wigg, Faegan, and Jessamay could see the strain on Adrian’s face. Walking closer, the First Wizard knew that the most difficult moment had again come.

  “Good!” he said gently. Her concentration firmly locked on her work, Adrian did not look at him.

  “Now,” Wigg said, “while maintaining the current vacuum, enlarge it and draw it down toward the ship’s bow.”

  Straining to keep her focus, Adrian did as the wizard asked. This time the spell seemed to hold.

  “Don’t be alarmed when she starts to move forward,” Wigg whispered.

  No sooner had the wizard spoken than the great vessel started to glide over the waves. A joyous look overcame Adrian’s face.

  “Good!” Wigg shouted. “But continue to concentrate! We can celebrate later!”

  As the vessel gained speed, Jessamay and Faegan came nearer. The air rushing by them began teasing their hair and clothes. Smiling broadly, the crippled wizard slapped one hand down on the arm of his chair.

  “I believe she’s got it!” he exclaimed. He gave Wigg a knowing wink. Wigg nodded, then looked back at Adrian.

  “Since things are going so well, let’s try some basic maneuvers,” he said. He knew that Adrian was tiring, but pushing her would help strengthen her newfound talent.

  During the next hour, Wigg showed Adrian how to change the ship’s speed, direction, and hull pitch by altering the vacuum’s intensity and shape. Now that she had the knack of it, Adrian was performing brilliantly. So much so that Wigg decided it was time for another test.

  “While continuing to sustain the spells, walk to the bow and guide us home,” he ordered. “If you feel yourself tiring, shout out at once. We will quickly augment your power.”

  Adrian slowly lowered her arms. She was beaming with pride. So far so good, she thought.

  She walked to the bow, and steadied herself by grabbing part of the rigging. The other three mystics felt the huge ship start to carve a gentle turn in the air. Soon she was pointing straight toward the Eutracian coast.

  Satisfied, Wigg walked over to the port gunwale. Jessamay came to join him. For several moments they didn’t speak, choosing instead to simply enjoy the wondrous sensation.

  Jessamay smiled. “It’s been a long time since we stood on these decks, eh, First Wizard?” she asked. “Then again, in some ways it seems like only yesterday.”

  Wigg turned to look at her. She expected to see a smile on his face, but only sadness showed.

  “A long time indeed,” he answered. “It’s good to have you back.”

  “You miss Celeste terribly, don’t you?” Jessamay asked.

  Wigg looked back
out to sea. “Yes,” he answered. “She was my only child. Perhaps the hardest part is that I knew her so briefly. She suddenly came into my life as a fully grown adult, only to age quickly, then die in my arms.”

  Taking a deep breath, he paused for a moment as the sea wind continued to harass his robe. “A father isn’t supposed to outlive his child,” he added quietly.

  Jessamay placed a hand over his. “I know,” she answered.

  Wigg returned his gaze to Jessamay and took in her long, curly blond hair, blue eyes, and slim figure. She was pretty, in a wholesome, country-girl sort of way. Her simple green shirt, dark trousers, and black boots enhanced that impression. Three centuries earlier, Wigg had granted her the time enchantments. At the time she had been thirty-five Seasons of New Life. Even though she was nearly as old as he, she didn’t look it-a fact everyone had trouble remembering. But her power was formidable, and the wizards knew that her gifts and knowledge would soon prove invaluable.

  Suddenly they heard Adrian cry out. With a frightened look on her face, she turned toward them. The Black Ship was slowly but inexorably gliding down toward the ocean.

  “I can’t hold her!” Adrian shouted. “I’m too tired!”

  Smiling, Wigg looked over at Jessamay. “Would you like to do the honors, or shall I?”

  “I’ll take her,” Jessamay answered. “It has been three hundred years since I tried, but I used to be pretty good at this! Let’s see how much speed I can get out of this old bucket!”

  Jessamay hurried to stand beside the acolyte. She said something to Adrian, and the tired First Sister gratefully started unraveling her spell. After summoning the spell’s lengthy calculations, Jessamay took over for her.