Cassandra? Cassandra? Why do you cry, Cassandra?
Cass was huddled by the cold blue flames sobbing. The fire made the tears sparkle as they slid down her cheeks. She buried her face in her knees and tried to keep herself from making a sound. Her body shook heavily as the image of red fire kept appearing before her eyes.
She wished that Semildinatch would just leave her alone. She wished she could hide some place all by herself. She wished she could make the vision she had witnessed go away. Not her papa! Not him! It made her afraid to know what was happening to her brother. What if something was going to kill him too? What if she was alone in the world? She looked up at the impenetrable darkness. She really was alone.
You are not alone, Cassandra.
She looked up at the shadowy figure on the other side of the blue flames. She wanted to tell him to leave her alone but her voice caught in her throat. More warm tears slid down her cheeks.
I am sorry, that was a terrible thing that you had to witness.
"I told you!" cried Cass suddenly, her face snapping up. "I told you that this was a curse! Now my papa is dead!" her voice broke and she buried her face in her knees again.
But don't you see? What you saw has not yet happened. Which means that perhaps there is still a way to prevent it.
"What do you mean?" asked Cassandra slowly.
In the years that I have been imprisoned I have learned ways to use my sorcery beyond just making this blue fire. On occasion, though I cannot escape, I can touch the outside world.
"You can help him?" asked Cass rising up and taking a step towards her fellow prisoner.
Yes.
Cassandra felt a bit of hope flickering in her chest. "What do you need me to do?"
I need a clearer vision of where your father is located. I will need to touch you with my own sorcery.
Cassandra watched as the shadowy form of Semildinatch began moving around to the other side of the fire. As he began to draw closer she suddenly felt a wave of uneasiness grip her stomach and chest. She stepped back involuntarily.
I need you to be brave Cassandra, whispered Semildinatch taking a step closer. He was still only a man shaped silhouette against the blue fire. Nothing about him had changed. Yet, Cassandra felt a queasy dread seize hold of her as he stepped around the fire. She edged away a little bit more.
Do not be afraid.
He took another step and Cassandra felt her heart pumping faster and faster against the inside of her chest.
I can help your father. Think of your father.
Cassandra nodded at the shadow approaching her. It was true. She needed him to help her father. Why was she feeling this way? She forced herself to edge a little closer to Semildinatch as he approached. By now he was standing right over her. She felt cold terror grip her body. Her breathing became short and rapid.
The shadow crouched down in front of her. As he drew closer Cassandra suddenly saw his face. Half his face was alit with the flickering blue light of the magical fire. From what she could see it was a human face. A handsome ageless face. His eyes were a shimmering blue that burned brighter than the fire that stood next to them.
You are a very brave girl, said Semildinatch with a smile as he stretched forth his right hand.
Cassandra watched the hand extend. Her whole body trembled like a falling leaf in the wind. She was so overcome with pure terror that she barely held to the glimmer of hope for her father's salvation. She looked up at the reaching hand with wide tearful eyes. This wasn't right, she thought suddenly. This was wrong! This was all wrong!
She jerked away from the outstretched hand and crawled several feet away. The lighted part of Semildinatch's face twisted in annoyance.
Come now, Cassandra. You saw what will happen to your father.
On cue Cass had the vision of her father flash before her eyes once again. She saw Jack Linch's hateful grin. She saw her father disappear into roaring red flames.
Do you not wish to save him? Your own father?
She wiped her eyes and watched the vision replay in her mind. He was right. She couldn't just let her father die. Not when there was the slightest hope that she could save him. She forced herself to remain where she was as Semildinatch began approaching her once more. Fear gripped her senses and coursed along her bones and spine. She began shaking once again. She gritted her teeth and forced herself to fight every instinct she had, as the shadow grew closer.
He crouched down once more and began stretching for his hand. His shadowy hand untouched by the light of the fire. Why didn't the light touch anything but the one half of his face? She shook and trembled as the hand drew closer. Beads of sweat ran down her back and she jerked away again. She sprinted to the other side of the fire. Then she collapsed on the ground breathing heavily. What was wrong with her? Why was she so terrified?
Cassandra, sweet little Cassandra, I told you time was different here. Your father may not have much time left. Let me help you. Let me help you save him.
The voice was soft and oily but there was an edge to it as well. She saw her father in a room surrounded by Rashakas. She saw Jack Linch and his triumphal maniacal grin. She saw the fire, the all consuming red fire. Another tear slid down her cheek and the shadow of Semildinatch appeared before her.
She trembled violently as the shadow bent over her and crouched down once again. She pulled away as the hand extended but this time she was shaking so badly that she stumbled as she tried to run away. He sat on the ground and watched Semildinatch approach her with wide eyes. She was still shaking, she seemed unable to control her arms and legs. This wasn't right. This wasn't good.
Why so afraid Cassandra? Don't you trust me?
"No!" Cassandra suddenly cried out. All at once she regained control of her limbs and she ran to the other side of the blue flames. "Don't come near me!"
But your father? What will become of your father?
The vision of her father disappearing in flames flashed before her eyes again. "Stop it!" she cried closing her eyes. Amazingly, the vision went away. She blinked in surprise. Then she saw the shadowy presence approaching once more.
That was very well done, Cassandra. Soon you will be able to control all your visions like that with just a simple thought.
"You stay away!"
Why so scared? I thought we had cultivated an understanding, came the silky voice in her head as Semildinatch stepped closer.
"I don't want your help anymore!" cried Cass backing away.
You can't mean that, Cassandra, sweet Cassandra. You saw for yourself what will happen to your father if I don't intervene. Surely you don't wish to lose him?
The vision of her father and the red flames danced before her mockingly. She shut her eyes and, with an effort, the images vanished once again,
"Don't! Don't do that again!"
I only want you to understand. Would you allow a little fear rob you of your family? Perhaps you should see what will happen to you brother as well.
Cassandra kept backing away from the dark being moving towards her,
"No! Don't show me anything! I don't want to see!"
Cassandra, sweet Cassandra.
Suddenly the blue fire vanished. Cassandra watched in horror as she was suddenly plunged into absolute darkness. She looked at where she thought she had seen Semildinatch last and began backing away. Then she remembered the cythraul. Terrified she looked over her shoulder but she might as well of had her eyes closed.
I may not have been entirely truthful with you, Cassandra.
The voice slid across the surface of her mind. She could not hear it so she had no idea where it was coming from. She stared out into the blackness. Then she felt cold fingers slide down her spine and seize her insides.
Cassandra, sweet Cassandra.
* * *
Abdiel sat in the ship's cabin. He had slowed his breathing and closed his eyes. His right hand adjusted the bag in his lap. There was a slight tinkling of silver as he moved it closer to his stomach. He had learned this technique from the strange creatures from across the endless sands. His eyes were closed and his other senses were brought into sharp focus.
He heard the wind rippling against the dropped sail of the boat. He heard the waves lapping up against the side as the Drusilla slowly rocked back and forth. He heard the sounds of the night and the faint sounds of Port Silver. His relaxed mind jumped from one sound to the next, isolating it and naming it.
The master who had taught him had told him the legend of one of his kind who had blindfolded himself for an entire year to focus his other senses. In the end the warrior removed the blindfold to discover that he had gone blind, but he had so thoroughly trained himself that for the rest of his life he defeated every foe he faced. The legendary warrior said that he had lost one sense and gained four while his opponents still had but one of five senses to rely on. Abdiel smiled at the strange tale, the Hydran were a strange breed.
Then he heard it. He heard a rippling sound in the water. He heard the dipping of paddles into the ocean. It was a rowboat. It was a rowboat coming towards him. Abdiel opened his eyes and began clearing his head.
He heard the boat stop as it pulled up right alongside his boat. There was silence for a moment. The Rashakas were boarding; demonic creatures never made a sound. Then he heard a soft bumping against the side of his boat. Jack Linch. Jack Linch was being carried onboard by one of the creatures.
Abdiel stared ahead and emptied his mind of worries and concerns. He heard the clomping of Jack's feet as he stalked towards the door of the cabin. He felt a sudden flash of heat and heard the roaring sound of the door being blown to cinders.
Then the first Rashaka came down the stairs. It was in its human guise. It sported the uniform of the king's soldiers and glided silently to stand against the wall. The other two Rashakas followed after. Green yellow eyes shimmered in the dim light. They watched him hungrily. The first one down began to drool as it watched him and waited for its master.
Abdiel kept all three of the creatures in his vision but did not look directly at any of them. They stood at attention against the wall. It must be driving whatever's left of their minds crazy just standing there staring at a meal like that, thought Abdiel. Then he quickly cleared his mind once again.
The clomping sound of Jack Linch descending the stairs was in sharp contrast to the silent monsters that had preceded him. He strode down into the room like a conquering warlord. His head was held high and his eyes locked on Abdiel immediately. For a moment he looked almost emotional. Then a slow smile spread across his face like death approaching. His eyes flickered with a malevolent red light.
"Hello Abdiel," he said breathlessly.
"Hello, Jack."
"You cannot imagine how I have waited for this moment!" whispered Jack Linch as though he were afraid that what he was seeing would suddenly vanish into thin air. "Ten years of dreams! Ten years of your face haunting me night and day!"
"Sounds like you had quite an ordeal," replied Abdiel blandly
"You have no idea!" shouted Jack Linch suddenly. His eyes flared up with red fire, "You know nothing about it! Ten years! TEN YEARS! I was rotting in that place!"
"You know you can't blame me for that, Jack," said Abdiel coolly. "I wanted to kill you."
Jack laughed a shrill nerve racking laugh. "You thought you were safe didn't you! You thought you were safe all holed up on the edge of nowhere! You never thought I'd find you!"
"You are right. How did you find me?"
Jack glanced over at the Rashakas lined up on the wall, "I have friends..." he began, then he stopped and stepped up to the table, "I should have known you would pick this place. I should have known!"
"A fishing boat in the middle of the Great Divide?"
"DON'T TEST ME!" shouted Jack Linch hurling red fire at the wall next to Abdiel's head a burning a large hole into the boat.
"You should be careful burning holes this boat, you don't swim too well as I recall."
For a moment Jack Linch was about to kill him. Red fire gathered in his hands. Even his skin was emitting a soft red glow. Abdiel clutched the bag tight but instinct told him to wait.
"NO!" cried Jack Linch slowly regaining control. A smile returned to his face. "I see! You are trying to provoke me so that I'll kill you quick! You want to rob me of the pleasure of killing you slowly!"
Abdiel blinked.
"YES! That is what you're trying to do! You want to haunt me even after your dead! You want to trick me out of my revenge!"
"Jack--"
"SILENCE!" shouted Jack Linch. "Stand up and face me!"
Abdiel obligingly rose from his chair and stepped beside the table. He carried the satchel loosely in his right hand. The Rashakas moved uneasily as he approached the silver knives that had been laid out on the table.
"Try and reach for one of those knives and I'll burn off your hand!" said Jack with a toothy grin.
Abdiel smiled back. A smug knowing smile.
Jack's face fell. His eyes darted to the satchel in Abdiel's hand, "what is that? Drop it at once!"
In a sudden flash of speed Abdiel hurled the bag underhand at Jack Linch's head, "Catch."
After that moment everything seemed to happen at once. Abdiel grabbed one of the knives from the table. One of the Rashakas lunged forward to stop him. Jack Linch watched the bag flying through the air and, with a cavalier smile, sent a bolt of red fire to burn it to cinders.
Abdiel is sitting in a tavern with one of the Tsade corsairs. The Tsade doesn't know his real name just that he's a member of the Order. The corsair is explaining something about their weaponry. He is trying to scare Abdiel and, through him, the Order itself with stories about their weapons.
Jack Linch's eyes went wide as he realized what he had done.
"Sure," the corsair says, "we could level the whole coastline if we wanted to. We could do it from a distance too! Buildings would just start toppling and no one would even see our ships!"
The Rashaka that had lunged at Abdiel was suddenly airborne, crashing into Abdiel and flying towards the far wall.
Abdiel appears disinterested though he is, in reality, hanging on every word. He buys the man another drink and makes a vague comment about the King's armies.
"The King? He only has a crown because we say he can have a crown! We could lay waste to the whole of his armies without losing a man!"
The other two Rashakas stared up at the cataclysm before them. They both felt a powerful emotion slowly overtaking their gnawing hunger. It took them a moment to recognize it as fear.
"So these weapons. What are they?" asks Abdiel appearing to slowly be gaining interest.
"We're not supposed to go into too much detail about what they are," says the Tsade glancing around, "just about what they can do! And let me tell you they can do a lot!"
"Are they some kind of magic?"
"No!" scoffs the corsair taking a drink.
"Well, they must use magic somehow. To be able to inflict that kind of damage I mean.
"Not this stuff," replies the Tsade. "There is such thing as too much damage. You do not want to see magic mix with one of these things, trust me! A man would have to be insane to-" he suddenly cuts off. Even in his drunken state he knows he's spilled something. Abdiel knows it too.
The magical fire ignited the Tsade bomb in a massive blazing inferno. Jack watched the red light reaching towards him in abject horror. His magic shielded him for a moment but the blast was too powerful. He opened his mouth in a soundless scream then he watched as his own body was vaporized before his eyes.
The two Rashakas on the wall howled in agony as magical fire and burning bits of silver shredded their cursed flesh. In seconds they were blasted into pieces as the explosion ripped through the Drusilla in a burning conflagration.
Abdiel felt the massive bulk of the Rashaka slam into him and send him through the walls of the ship. He closed his eyes against the burning red light and then everything faded away.
* * *
Faran awoke in the night from a roaring sound coming from the harbor. His eyes snapped open and he tore the silk sheets from off his body. He stepped onto his richly carpeted floor and hurried to a massive paned window. Red light was gleaming through the glass like the rays of a dying sun.
He stood looking out his window for a moment uncomprehending. The harbor was lit with red light that cast strange shadows across the ships and the waters. A crowd had gathered on the docks. Men and women pushed against each other trying to catch a glimpse of the raging phenomenon. Faran's eyes drifted from the spectators to the source of their excitement.
Some distance from the rest of the ships was what appeared to be a massive red bonfire. Bits of blackened wood and ash flew from the flames and scattered into dust. Faran watched the flames reach up to the sky as though crying for help. He had never seen such a big fire on a ship before. Then, as he watched, he suddenly realized that there was no blackened husk of a ship within those flames. Whatever boat had been there had disintegrated in the flames. It wasn't the boat or even pieces of the boat that was burning any longer.
It was the ocean.
The ocean was on fire.
Faran watched the flames burn for a moment longer. Then he closed his eyes and allowed his head to hang down. Then he slowly looked back up,
"Pieter, you are a dead man," he whispered into the blazing red light.
* * *
Ashur followed Segurant through the dirt roads of Aerico. It was nearing twilight and the villagers had already begun disappearing within their houses for supper. Ashur marveled at the simplicity of the town. There was not a single thing that would appear out of place in a small village, yet the whole town was some kind of center for The Order of Janos. He shook his head. The Order had taken the adage of hiding in plain sight to a whole new level.
He turned to Segurant.
"So, what is a warding?"
"It is a mark of protection. Virgil will explain."
"Virgil?"
They stopped at a small cottage near the edge of town. A number of men were lined up outside the door. Ashur recognized them as several of the men who had been at the meeting.
Segurant led Ashur to the back of the line and they both stood to wait. Ashur glanced at his companion's metallic hand. It was entirely solid shiny gray metal that moved as fluidly as and of flesh and bone. He watched Segurant flex the fingers and wondered how he could have ever mistaken it for an ordinary gauntlet. He looked up at Segurant's face but the man was watching the other men in line.
"You're watching these men as if they could attack us at any moment," murmured Ashur.
"The shadowslayers work in layers of deception. To work with them one must be vigilant," replied Segurant. "I believe they have already taught you that particular lesson."
Ashur nodded and moved forward as the line of men entered the small house one by one. There must have been a back door because the dwelling was not nearly large enough to contain the number of men who had walked inside.
"You told me you would give me some answers," he said turning to Segurant once again.
"So I did, but I would hardly wish to supply them in our present company."
"Tell me about demons."
Segurant sighed. "They are evil."
"If I am to help rescue Cass from these creatures I need to know something about them."
"Very well," said Segurant clasping his hands behind his back, "The demons are a race from the netherworlds."
"Netherworlds?"
Segurant nodded and glanced up at the line ahead of them. Satisfied that it wasn't moving for the time being he crouched down. Ashur watched him and after a moment dropped to his haunches as well.
Segurant reached to the dirt with a metal finger and traced a circle. Then he traced a second circle beside it,
"This," he said pointing to the first circle, "represents our world, the world of man," then he pointed at the second circle. "This represents the world of the demons."
Ashur looked at the two circles. "So the demons found a way to travel from their world to our world?"
Segurant nodded and drew a couple more circles, "Every world has a number of gateways that lead to netherworlds. The demons discovered this thousands of years ago and began using them." He drew lines connecting the circles. He connected all of them but the one he had labeled as the world of man. "They began using them to build an empire. An empire not of lands but of worlds. Their race would move from gateway to gateway conquering all in their path," he paused and drew a line from one of the worlds to the world of man.
"So they want to conquer us as well?"
Segurant nodded. "Yes; a thousand years ago they tried."
"What happened?"
"The Caelestors. The Caelestors drove them out."
"But if the Caelestors drove them out why are there still some left?"
"As I said there are very few if any demons left. It is the remnants of their magic that we, and them," he nodded towards the Janin, "have to face."
"But why didn't the Caelestors just destroy their magic as they were driving them out?"
A sad smile fell across Segurant's face and he rose as the line began to move forward,
"Some things are easier said than done."
Ashur thought about this for a second. Then he turned to the other man,
"Before talking to you and the Order I thought the Caelestors were just fairy stories."
"Who told you that?"
"My father."
They were almost to the door. Segurant was facing the door but his eyes still followed the men in front of them and watched the darkening areas around them. Ashur watched the man in front of him walk through the door. The door closed immediately and it was just him and Segurant alone in the street.
"Is it all true? What they say out about them?"
"Depends on what they say," replied Segurant as the door opened.
Ashur looked slightly down into the eyes of the man that he could only assume was Virgil. The first thing he noticed was that the man was covered in paint. Various colors coated his face, his hair, his clothes, and just about every other part of his body. It was, in fact, impossible to determine the true color of his hair or his skin. His eyes were a dark green and they glanced from Ashur to Segurant repeatedly before Virgil finally spoke.
"Come along! Come along!" he said finally waving the two of them further into the small cottage.
Ashur noticed suddenly that the cottage was almost as colorful as Virgil himself. Various figures were painted all across the walls and ceiling and floor. Most of the figures were men on and off horseback fighting dark monsters. At first Ashur thought that these were all paintings of the Caelestors but then he noticed that none of the warriors were using magic to slay the monsters around them.
"Who are all these?" asked Ashur.
Virgil was rummaging around on an enormous table covered with bowls of paint,
"These? Well let's just say that though our heroes have no names and their deeds are kept secret we do not forget them."
Ashur blinked and looked up at a man shoving a dagger, two handed, into the chest of a howling monster. The creature's massive wolflike features and yellow green eyes were unmistakable.
"Alright step up young man I am ready to begin," said Virgil taking a seat in a multicolored chair next to the table.
"Wait," said Ashur, "I want to know what you are going to do first."
"I am going to give you a warding of course!" replied Virgil.
"What is a warding?"
Virgil looked at him incredulously. Then he turned his head and looked up at Segurant.
"What have you brought me Iron Hand?"
Segurant said nothing.
"Well, tell me what it is," said Ashur, annoyed.
Virgil sighed, "So I take it you have never been warded before?"
"No."
"So if I were to give you a warding now it would be your first time?"
"Yes."
Virgil leaned back in his painted chair. "Get out."
"What?"
"I said, get out! There is no way you can still go on this mission if you are being warded for the first time! You must be mad to even consider it! Whoever the Sword is on this mission is mad as well! Iron Hand remove the boy!"
Ashur looked up at Segurant in confusion. Segurant didn't move,
"He will be warded," he said quietly.
"Won't do him a bit of good," said Virgil rising from his chair. "He'll be weak and uncoordinated. He'll be better off without it."
Segurant looked at the other man steadily.
"He will be warded."
Virgil tried to hold the other man's gaze for a moment and then looked away. He sighed and turned to the paints on his table. He reached out and picked up a small bowl of black paint. Then he turned to Ashur.
"Take off your shirt."
"What are you going to do?" asked Ashur looking from one man to the other.
"The world has gone insane and I, being but a lowly servant, must cater to that insanity," said Virgil.
Ashur hesitated for a moment and then removed his shirt.
"Warding," began Virgil, mixing the paint with a brush and something he pulled out of a pocket, "is a protection against harmful sorcery."
"So the warding makes magic unable to harm me?" asked Ashur as Segurant turned him so his back was exposed to Virgil.
"Hardly," replied Virgil with a snort. "The warding will provide some protection. It may even save your life but it only takes one spell to make it fade. Now hold still."
Ashur held himself steady as he heard Virgil begin to mumble something indistinct. Then he felt the cool stroke of paint against the skin of his back. The strokes were quick and steady. He felt them spread across his back and to the edges of his shoulders. Then, suddenly, Virgil was standing in front of him and it was over.
"How do you feel?" asked Virgil curiously.
"Fine," replied Ashur. He felt the coolness of the paint slowly fade as the paint dried against his skin. Then he felt the paint begin to grow warmer.
"What about now?"
"It feels a little warm," said Ashur. He braced himself. If this was to be anything like being healed he would be ready. Then the warmth faded and he felt nothing.
"Extraordinary," murmured Virgil walking around to stare at the symbols he had painted on Ashur's back, "I have never seen anyone take to magic so."
Ashur began pulling his shirt back on. Segurant put and hand on his shoulder and began leading him out of Virgil's cottage. A moment later they were out the door. Virgil was standing in the doorway watching them walk away. His face was pulled into a look of wonder.
"Extraordinary," he murmured again.