Darkvision (18 page)

“Maybe Shaddon needs to tweak his crystal implantation technique,” Warian conceded.

“There’s another possibility,” said Zel. “He could be contaminated, too. After all, he’s subjected himself to the same plangent treatment. Actually, he’s taken more crystal than any other plangent. He could be as mad as a Veldorn monkey all alone in his sanctum under Adama’s Tooth.”

Warian looked away, worry suddenly creasing his brow. Then he said, “I’m not contaminated, or at least I don’t feel any different. If I’m free of this hypothetical taint, perhaps Shaddon is, too. I doubt he’d allow himself to come to any harm. He’s the most accomplished mage this family has ever produced, if you can believe his claims.”

Zel looked at Warian, calculation narrowing his eyes. “Yes, but if you were contaminated, would you know it? Would he?”

“Come on, you’re just trying to spook me! Of course we’d know it. This could all be a minor glitch in the plangent program that you’ve blown up into your own personal conspiracy theory. It could be nothing.”

“Or we could be going to face the man from whom all the contamination flows.”

Shaddon gazed into a massive crystalline boulder suspended on an iron chain.

It was the largest uncut stone his miners had ever discovered. His first thought was to use it as another crystal for his prosthesis project. But this particular globe of purple mineral proved far more significant than every earlier specimen he’d prized from the great dark.

Shaddon grinned so fiercely his face nearly split.

In this piece of mute stone, he had found untapped energy—energy eager to jump into all the previous mineral he’d cut to such exacting standards. The arrival of this massive sphere marked the transition where his prosthetics research graduated from sub-par replacements to superhuman relics. With this orb, he was able to fashion plangents.

The limbs, organs, senses, and even reasoning faculties he installed in plangents were superior to anything mortals were born with. He could truthfully claim the ability to make people better!

True, he had a few bad nights when the energy source fueling his plangents proved itself sentient. What had he unleashed?

Those fears had passed. This entity showed him advantages he’d never dreamed possible. With the great orb, he could seize absolute control over everyone who accepted a plangent implant.

In the two years since this great discovery, Shaddon’s attitude had slowly migrated from vague unease to glorious satisfaction with his newfound power, despite a single downside. He pushed his mind away from that topic. His was the power of absolute mastery over a growing number of better-than-normal wealthy merchants, nobles, and other people of note.

Shaddon Datharathi reached out his artificial hand to change the focus of the colossal globe. Each rough facet glowed with an image, as if from a different viewpoint. Each image was, in truth, from the perspective of someone who had submitted to Body Shop improvements.

The plangents, who came to the Body Shop as rich, powerful elites, thought they were gaining membership in an exclusive club. It was true—in submitting to the implant, they gained the powers of a super-normal human, as promised. What they didn’t know was that wearing a Datharathi prosthesis of recent manufacture put the wearer’s soul in thrall.

Shaddon grinned even wider. He was the thrall master.

The project had exceeded his wildest hopes. His subjects of control continued to proliferate. Each offered him a new window on the world—and a new vessel that would accede to his utter bidding. Why not smile?

He giggled, the tone high and tittering. He watched from the eyes of a nobleman of the Kant family as he sneaked away to a tryst with a secret lover. Shaddon shifted his focus, and with only a twinge of pain, mentally propelled his senses into his thrall.

The next instant, he was the noble. He could feel the man’s breath, feel his crystalline heart, move his hands, twirl his body, whatever he desired. He let out a hoot in the man’s deep voice, then retreated back into his own body, leaving the nobleman turned around and confused about the moment of lost time.

Shaddon would have time enough for idle fun later. At the moment, he needed to ponder a recent development—his grandson Warian had returned to Vaelan. And with such an interesting story. His prosthesis was acting up, surging with a strength it had never before possessed.

How could that be? None of the pre-plangent prostheses were linked to the orb. Had some sort of spontaneous linkage occurred? Possibly, except no matter how he tried, he couldn’t find his grandson on the great orb. Did he have a plangent’s strength without the bondage? He needed to get a look at that arm.

It had been simplicity itself to puppet his son, Xaemar, into sending Warian directly to Adama’s Tooth. He seized control of Xaemar so often these days it was like putting on an old glove. Shaddon wondered how much of Xaemar’s original mind remained. He had pushed it aside so often—there could be permanent damage. He resolved to look into it. Later.

If Warian’s original prosthesis had gained some of the power generated by the entity, or from a source other than the entity, then Shaddon needed to know. Shaddon couldn’t slide his senses into his nephew, which galled him. But if Warian’s particular investiture of crystal represented a way to avoid control, this was knowledge Shaddon needed!

Could he free himself from the influence of the entity, without giving up his own control? Could he cut Pandorym out of…

Darkness doused a quarter of the facets on the great crystal orb. Shaddon’s grin collapsed.

“No,” he whimpered. Guilt blazed like a bonfire through his consciousness. “I didn’t mean it! I was just wondering—I did not plan on taking any action. You don’t have to come forward. I promise, I promise! Please …”

The darkness multiplied until every facet was as black as a vein of coal—and then grew darker. The void crept over the faces of the crystal orb, until all the chamber was dark.

The only remaining light glowed from a point in Shaddon’s frenzied mind. A purplish radiance lived there, but even that light was shot through with darkness, black worms infesting the core.

“Pandorym, no …” pleaded Shaddon, his desperation a deluge of sick terror.

His supplications were worthless. Just as Shaddon could look out from the eyes of those who wore Datharathi crystal, the entity could look out from Shaddon. He, alone of all plangents, was able to retain the memory of being pushed aside while the other looked out; such was the price he paid for his ability to control others.

The pain couldn’t have been worse if his innards had pushed out through his skin to make room for the cold intrusion.

Through his retching, Shaddon began to scream as the darkness took him.

Ususi discovered a few tins of dried fish in Yonald’s cabin after she and Eined had made a casual investigation of every compartment and closet.

She couldn’t sleep after her nightmare. She was haunted by the darkness and Qari’s pronouncement that she should “embrace darkness.” Ususi shuddered as she imagined again the hollow orbits of her sister’s vacant face.

The wizard consumed the contents of a tin of snapper as eagerly as if it were a fabled mithridate concocted by healing alchemists. Of course, she knew it wasn’t really an antidote for nightmares, and it could not insulate her against future recurrences. A little oily, but salty, as she liked it. Perhaps the simple act of eating it gave her comfort.

The Datharathi woman quickly ate a similar portion of fish then fell asleep. Night ruled outside the cabin, but sleep eluded Ususi. They’d reach Huorm in the morning, maybe before first light. If she was to be worth anything at all the next day, she needed her sleep. The anxiety of not sleeping drove slumber further away.

“To the dooms with it.”

Ususi slipped on her shoes and went up on deck. Her uskura followed after, carrying a lantern. She hadn’t unpacked her delver’s orb—she didn’t want to take the time to look for it in her pack.

Light rain fell, but it wasn’t cold, and it wasn’t falling hard enough to drench her hair or clothing—it was more of a mist, and it was bracing. The sea was black in all directions, but lanterns shimmering around the perimeter of the craft illuminated small areas of dark water. She saw only a single crewman high above, mucking with ropes. The impenetrable blackness all around reminded her uneasily of her dream.

A spot of warmth on her left hip caught her attention—her pouch. She had many pouches, but this one held the three pieces of Celestial Nadir crystal Iahn had retrieved from the creatures in front of the ancient Imaskaran complex.

She reached her hand into the pouch—the stones, in their leather wrapping, were hot to the touch! She drew the wrapping forth and emptied one of the stones into her hand to get a better look at it. The moment it was free of the leather, the crystal flashed a brilliant ray of purple light. The flash speared into the dark waters around the ship. Then the stone went dark and cooled down.

“Oh, dooms and damnation!” Ususi spat. The crewman in the rigging rewarded her with a startled look. She ignored him.

Unless it was her imagination, a faint violet radiance lingered in the sea where the light from the crystal had touched the water’s surface. But the radiance fell behind as the ship plowed forward.

She threw the dark stone into the sea. She paused, grabbed the pouch that contained the remaining two Celestial Nadir amulets, and threw the whole thing in. She turned and rushed toward the prow, looking for Iahn.

The vengeance taker was wrapped in a light blanket, lying under a stanchion. When she was still ten paces from him, Iahn slipped free of his roll and bounded up on his feet, so quickly that Ususi almost didn’t see him move.

“Yes?” he inquired.

“Iahn,” she breathed, “We might have a problem.”

He waited, saying nothing, merely studying her with his pale, incurious eyes.

“Some … I don’t know … magical probe found the three Celestial Nadir crystals I’ve been carrying. I felt the contact as it was made. I threw the stones overboard, but we may be marked, nevertheless. We’d best be ready.”

The taker said, “I’m always ready, Ususi.”

She sighed. Not everyone could be as thoroughly competent as vengeance takers were—or pretended to be. “My mistake. I didn’t mean to imply otherwise.”

She mumbled a quick protective enchantment, a minor ward of stone. Her skin grew a mineral sheen that was unmistakable.

“Do you mind walking with me along the deck?” the wizard asked Iahn. “I thought I saw something in the water, but it fell behind.”

“We move swiftly through the water,” observed Iahn. “But let’s be sure we remain ahead of what you saw. Which was … ?”

“A glow.”

“Hmm.”

Ususi followed the vengeance taker down the deck toward the stern, stepping around coils of rope, barrels lashed to the railing, and other stowed supplies. At the stern, a short ladder led up to a rear-facing platform perfectly positioned for staring aft. Beyond the glimmer of the ship’s lanterns in the foaming water, all was dark. The shushing sound of the vessel’s passage through the sea wasn’t as reassuring as Ususi had found it earlier.

“We’ll wait here a while,” counseled Iahn, peering into their wave-tossed wake.

Ususi nodded.

A noise like tearing fabric caught Ususi’s attention. She touched Iahn’s shoulder but saw his head was already cocked, listening.

Ususi whispered, “Was that a sail?”

Brilliant purple light flashed in the ship’s wake. She was answered.

“Be ready,” mumbled Iahn. The vengeance taker held out his damos. A light touch from his other hand opened an orifice in the disk. Ususi shuddered as she glimpsed the oily, resinous liquid quivering within. Iahn smoothly removed three bolts from the bottom of his crossbow and dipped their points into the well.

Ususi moved back a pace from the vengeance taker—she didn’t want to be nicked by accident. She rehearsed a few spells in her mind—Ususi was adept at producing blasts of fire and arcs of lightning, energies sufficient to deal with most threats. She preferred lightning…

Something squirmed in the darkness behind the ship, coming closer.

An awful shape oozed out of the night to stand before them on the edge of the platform. It was a creature formed half of bone and half of blackness so dense it possessed actual substance. In silhouette, it was a faceless, wingless demon. Its bony claws were long and tipped with the void. A needle-thin shard of Celestial Nadir crystal poked from a hollow in its forehead.

“Shadow eft!” said Ususi in surprise.

Iahn fired one of his poison-tipped bolts, which caught the creature squarely in the chest. It threw back its head, opened its mouth in a silent scream, and toppled off the back of the ship.

“What is a shadow eft?” asked the vengeance taker, nonchalantly cocking his crossbow with the second poisoned bolt.

After getting her breath back, she said, “Shadow efts were assassins for the ancient Imaskari. Efts were kept in suspended animation until some noble needed to eliminate a rival. Then an eft was programmed and decanted. An eft assassin, being part shadow, could find and kill most creatures before they even knew they were being stalked.”

“I’ve never seen one before.”

“Shadow efts haven’t been in the world since the Imaskari Empire failed,” said Ususi, a note of wonder in her voice.

“What about that crystal in its head?”

Ususi shook her head. “Nothing in my studies connects shadow efts with Celestial Nadir crystal—although now that I think of it,” she said, “maybe the old Imaskari stored shadow efts in the Celestial Nadir when they were in stasis. If…”

Iahn’s shadow suddenly revealed itself as a monstrosity of bone and darkness. Night-dark claws plunged into the vengeance taker’s back, and he stiffened with pain and surprise.

Iahn’s blood dribbled onto the deck as he struggled in the monster’s grip. The shadow eft rose straight into the night, its feet dangling, as if being reeled upward by an unseen rope. The retreating eft was taking Iahn with it.