Phoenix Ascendant - eARC (9 page)

Chapter 12

Tobimar heard the triple
twang-twang-twang
as Poplock’s clockwork crossbow fired. “
Behind you!
”

Tobimar whirled, silver-green swords out, slashing across the shadow wraith which was already burning white in three places, shattering it to fading shards of night. “Close.”

“We’re not done!”

Two more shadow wraiths, graverisen affected by the dark powers in Rivendream Pass, had materialized from the dimness beneath the twisted trees—trees that were now ripping their roots free of the soil and bending towards them. One wraith raised a hand and gestured, carving symbols of light in the air.
It’s a mage! What—

The symbols blazed up, and instantly a roaring sphere of flame streaked towards the little party.

To Tobimar’s surprise, it was Rion who acted first. Bracing and focusing on his sword’s edge, Kyri’s brother cut down and split the attack, both fiery pieces passing harmlessly to either side.
Justiciar or no, he’s damned good. The skill to cut enchantments isn’t something learned easily.

That pause had given Kyri her chance. She charged out from behind her brother, Flamewing carving straight through an outstretched, coiling branch, and bore down on the shadow wraiths. “
Myrionar!
” she shouted, and the immense sword burst into its own golden flame. The shadow wraiths flowed back, trying to disappear into the gloom, but the fire of Myrionar left precious little to hide in.

By then Tobimar had caught up. He sprang across the remaining distance, focusing his awareness and strength
through
the swords the Spiritsmith had forged, and felt the essence of the creature resist, then fail. It, too, exploded in fading mists of night. Rion harried the third while Kyri kept the hostile trees at bay; then Poplock put another of his alchemical flame-darts into the shadow wraith’s half-substantial head and Rion’s swords finished tearing it apart.

With that, the trees shuddered, sinking slowly back into the ground, moaning and leaning away from the terrible flaming sword, one of them beating ponderously against its own branches that had caught fire. Gradually the poisonously green, dimly lit jungle subsided into its eerily watchful near-silence.

Rion wiped his brow, shaking slightly. “I had wondered…if you were exaggerating. I started to think you had not when we left Kaizatenzei. Now I know you did not describe this abominable place well enough.”

“To be fair,” Poplock said soberly, “I don’t think
anyone
could describe this place well enough. You have to
be
here to understand. And honestly, I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

“Oh, there’s a few I would wish it on,” Kyri said grimly, looking around warily. “If I wasn’t afraid they’d find it pleasant.”

“I don’t suppose we could go back to Sha Murnitenzei?” Rion said with a wan smile. “It’s only a day and a half. They’d probably welcome the chance for another party.”

“We’d just have to come back out
here
again,” Tobimar said with an answering grin, as the little party began to move cautiously up the slowly increasing slope of Rivendream Pass. “And I don’t know about you, Rion, but I think I’d find it worse, having gone back into Kaizatenzei for but a day or so.”

“I can’t disagree,” Rion said after a moment, with another shiver. He looked up the tangled slope where only the faintest of trails was visible. “How far is it?”

Kyri answered, though her eyes were still scanning the brush as they moved upslope. “Well, we didn’t
measure
it…but that’s the pass through the Khalals, so we’re crossing through a mountain range, at least partly—even if this valley sort of dents the Kalals in. A hundred and fifty miles? Two hundred? Weeks of travel, anyway. Maybe we can move a
little
faster since we’ve done this before, and we’ve got you with us, but…”

Rion’s eyes widened, then his jaw set. “Weeks. In
this
place. Myrionar’s
Mercy
. And you three came through here without even knowing that Kaizatenzei was on the other side? Maybe I
wasn’t
really worthy of being a Justiciar, because I’m not sure I’d have had the courage to do
that
.”

Kyri flashed him one of the smiles that seemed reserved for her big brother—filled not just with affection, but admiration that only a younger sibling could have for their older, better brother. “You would’ve done it alone, if you had to. I know you, Rion.”

Rion glanced at Tobimar, as if to say
well, if she says so
, and then chuckled. The sound was both a relief and somehow alien in Rivendream Pass. “I suppose if anyone does, it’s my sister. So…” he glanced around, including Poplock in his survey, “…do we have a plan as to our next moves?”

Poplock shifted on his shoulder; Tobimar caught Kyri’s eye; she nodded. At that, Poplock relaxed slightly. “Okay,” the little Toad said. “I guess we should bring you up to date. Sorry, but we’ve done those kind of discussions mostly among us three. We should probably include you from now on.”

Rion shook his head. “I can’t blame you. I wouldn’t entirely trust me either, yet.”

“
I
trust you, Rion,” Kyri said firmly.

“
You
are prejudiced,” Poplock said just as firmly. “And you know it. It’s good you trust him. Just as long as you know we don’t, yet. Honestly, until we’ve dealt with this Viedra guy, I’m not going to relax.”

Kyri sighed, then stuck Flamewing into a suspicious-looking bulge on a tree root; the bulge screeched and splayed multiple clawed legs before collapsing. “Agreed. You shouldn’t.”

“All right.” The Toad shifted to the shoulder nearest to Rion. “So, our next moves—after not dying in Rivendream, that is. The plan’s pretty simple, based on what we’ve learned. Oh, first—that other figure that Thorny was talking to when you caught them out. Could it have been the Watchland?”

Rion thought, then shook his head. “No. My gut feeling was Skyharrier, and the height and build…they’re not right for the Watchland.” He looked apologetic. “Of course…there’s no certainty that I remember everything right either.”

“No, there isn’t,” agreed Tobimar. “Given that you’re at least in some way a construct, there’s a lot that Wieran could have changed, especially with a major demon helping.”

Kyri frowned. “So, no evidence one way or the other on the Watchland there.”

Tobimar shrugged. “No, but honestly? Miri’s evidence is
more
than enough, if we trust her—and I do, and I think the rest of us do, too.” Kyri nodded.

“
Any
way,” Poplock said with a slight emphasis, “the plan is first to scout out Evanwyl—see if everything looks okay. If it is, we’ll sneak in a little farther, see if Xavier and any of his friends have shown up.” Poplock gave the broadest grin his not-terribly-mobile lips allowed. “They’ll kinda stand out, so that’s not going to be too hard.”

“If they are there?”

“Well, we make contact right away, clue ’em in. Believe me, if we can get Xavier in on the party, we
want
him in on it. You’ll like him, he’s a neat guy, warrior, looks kinda like your sister Urelle, fights like Tobimar.”

“Except better,” Tobimar said.

“
Different
,” Kyri corrected him. “You both learned the same basic discipline, but he was taught different parts. It’s true he has a couple of pretty frightening tricks, though.”

Poplock looked at them like a sage interrupted in a lecture. “If I could
finish
?”

“Sorry,” Tobimar said contritely.

“So, as I was saying, if Xavier and his friends are there, we make contact. Might have to spend some time talking with them, get to know ’em—you can’t work well with people you don’t really understand, after all.

“After that, or if they’re
not
there, we’ll be ready to start the dangerous part of the operation—the parts that might or will tip off our enemies that we’ve got ’em pegged. First, we go to the Temple of Myrionar and see if Arbiter Kelsley will let us dig through the Temple records.
Somewhere
in there they’ve got to have some idea of where the Justiciar’s Retreat is.”

Rion nodded. “We can’t confront our enemies if we can’t find them.”

“Right. So, whatever comes of that, our next stop is the Watchland himself. Preferably not in his home, of course.”

“You’re going to confront him before going to the Retreat?”

“Of course,” Kyri said firmly. “There’s only three possibilities, Rion. The first is that I’m right that there’re two sides to the Watchland, good and bad—and maybe we can use the good side against the bad. The second and third possibilities come from the chance that either I’m wrong, or whatever’s good in him can’t really stand up to Viedraverion. In that case, either he will decide to take us on immediately, or he’ll decide to run for the Retreat. I am
pretty
sure that no matter what tricks he may have in place, he will
not
be able to keep me from finding the Retreat if I’m following him closely enough. If he leads us to the Retreat, or we beat him and can find our way there with Kelsley’s help…well, then the final chapter of this plays out one way or the other.”

Rion nodded. “I see. But what if…well, he’s made his move? What if Evanwyl…isn’t Evanwyl?” He was obviously tormented by the thought, and Tobimar couldn’t blame him; Tobimar probably had the same expression when he wondered what had happened to Skysand in the time he’d been gone.

Kyri’s face was suddenly cold and hard as stone. “Then we go straight for the Watchland, no pauses, no chance for anyone to raise an alarm or prepare. At the most we try to scout things out as carefully as we can beforehand, but we
can’t
take a risk of alerting them. There’s only four of us; we can’t afford to give them time to get a larger force against us, even if we’re stronger individually. And yes, Rion, Tobimar, I understand that depending on…what Viedraverion is, and what allies he may have and powers he may use, we may end up fighting our own friends.” She held them all with her gaze. “If that’s the case…we try not to hurt them. But we have to win, or this was all for nothing. We continue until we are all down…or we’ve won.”

The three others looked at each other, and then nodded. “Agreed.”

Rion touched her arm. “You know…that means we might have to fight
Lythos
.”

She nodded. “I know.”

“He could kill us.”

She looked momentarily infinitely sad. “No, Rion. I don’t think he could. Not me, anyway. Oh, he’s a better
warrior
than me—than probably all of us put together. But if you remember, Lythos himself told us ‘enough skill can overcome power. But enough power can overcome skill. Those who have both…
they
are the masters.’ Well, Tobimar and I fought an Elderwyrm and lived. I think we’re…well, out of his reach, no matter what his skill.”

Rion stared at her, then shook his head with a grin. “I…still have a hard time grasping that.”

Tobimar snorted. “So do
we
. There are times it still doesn’t seem quite real. Even though we fought it, and you and I crossed the scars on the landscape the monster left. I don’t think our minds are really
meant
to be able to comprehend something on that scale.”

“Oh, it happened,” Poplock said calmly. “Otherwise I’d still have that crystal, and wouldn’t have had to replace that Gemcalling matrix.” He patted the elaborate ring around his upper arm, a ring with a glittering blue-purple gem set in it. “And wouldn’t have the scars where my arm got shattered.”

“In any case…don’t worry about it, Rion,” Kyri said, and hugged her brother. “Time enough for that when we get there.”

Tobimar agreed with her. Right now, they had to stay alive—though that really should be easier now, given the powers they’d learned to use. But no point in borrowing trouble from the future.

Whatever was waiting for them…wouldn’t be waiting much longer.

Chapter 13

“Gharis again,” murmured Tobimar.

“Appropriate. It
was
the easiest of the outlying towns for us to get to from Rivendream,” Poplock said. He was feeling perhaps unreasonably cheerful and optimistic; getting out of the vile, sanity-eroding
nastiness
of Rivendream had that effect. Maybe Evanwyl wasn’t the sparkling perfection of Kaizatenzei, but compared to Rivendream Pass, well, close enough. “How do you want to do the reconnaissance?”

Tobimar frowned. “People there might recognize me, so I can’t go too far in.”

“Neither of us can even get close,” Rion said reluctantly. “We are…
were
, in my case…known throughout Evanwyl, and there’s no one that would mistake us for anyone else unless we try disguises.”

Kyri shook her head. “And against the forces we’re worried about, I don’t know if disguises would help. You’re not really much better off, Tobimar, except that you’re not so tall that you’ll stand out.”

“That’s why I’m going to only go in close enough to be able to hear if things go too badly wrong. It’s really going to be up to Poplock.”

“Yep,” agreed the little Toad, checking his pack and making sure it was well settled and its subtle camouflage was working. “As far as I know, no one except maybe the Watchland himself ever twigged to the fact that I was something more than a pet. And I’m small enough that people often don’t even notice me.”

“True,” Kyri said. “All right; Rion and I will stay back here and wait for you two.
Do not
take any chances you can avoid, Poplock. I don’t want an alarm
or
a fight if we can evade it.”

“Hey, I don’t stab people who don’t deserve it. Trust me.” He gave her a pop-eyed smile so she knew he wasn’t really annoyed; she returned the smile and bowed, then kissed Tobimar quickly.

It wasn’t a rainy night, as it had been the first time they approached the little town. Poplock pointed out a dark street that led to a tiny copse, a sort of park, not even a stone’s throw from the Southern View, the main inn and gathering spot in Gharis. Tobimar nodded. “Okay, I’ll wait there. Good luck.”

“See you in a bit.”

Poplock dropped from the Skysand prince’s shoulder and scuttled through the grass. He
could
make better time bouncing along the main road, but that would make him more visible. Toads didn’t stay on streets often, not when they had a choice.

A few minutes took him to the wall of the Southern View. Constructed of large logs carefully fitted and laid in an interlocking pattern, the inn also had verminseal wards on it, with some security webbing in place as well, as he could see by looking at it through one of his special lenses. But it hadn’t changed since the time they’d come here searching for Thornfalcon, as far as he could tell.

He squinted up. Sure enough, there were a couple of vents under the eaves. That allowed air circulation through the building, which could get stuffy otherwise. He climbed swiftly up to the roof using the log ends, which were also the anchors for the security and verminseal wards; this meant their outer edges weren’t inside the wards, but normally that wouldn’t matter much; the only vermin that attacked big wood blocks were kept out by the preservative paint.

Fortunately, the fact that they were relying on the cheaper security webbing meant that there were significant gaps in the coverage—significant to a toad who was less than four inches across. The webbing had a six-inch spacing, which made it almost easy to get through and enter the vent.

Remembering the
mazakh
ducts, Poplock looked carefully inside, but this wasn’t even really a duct, just an opening to permit good air circulation through the building; he just had to remove and replace the grating that kept debris like dust and leaves from entering.

The attic was filled with various dry goods—beans, gravelseed flour, smoked meats hanging from the ceiling, and such. It didn’t take long for Poplock to figure out how to ease his way into the gaps at the side of the floor and drop down, first to the second floor and then to the first.
They build everything so
open
in Evanwyl. Almost unfairly easy.

He reminded himself that he was just about to hit the
hard
part of this job. He was now hanging upside down, looking into a pantry with a half-open door through which came the sounds of cooking, someone moving about, stirring something, rattling of pans. “More tineroots, and where’s the roast for Gillie?”

“Coming!”

Poplock poked his head back up, found that—as he had hoped—the ceiling down here was a thin layer of boards concealing the supporting beams and braces. It was only about six inches high, but that was more than enough space for him. He scuttled along, following the sounds of movement and the structural components until he figured he was over the common room where most people would gather.
Hopefully I’ll get some idea of what’s going on around here
.

For the first time he had a problem. Listening was all well and good, but
seeing
people was really important. Words could say one thing while expressions, gestures, and body posture said another, something that old Hiriista had proven when he figured out that Poplock wasn’t an ordinary toad.

The problem was that the ceiling boards were really well fitted. There was barely a hint of light seeping through them. That left only a few choices. He could try to lever one of the boards so that there was a gap he could look through; he could bore a hole through the wood and peek through, either by eye or using a small mirror; or he could take a chance at being spotted and just go to the edge of the ceiling and peek down from between the gap between the ceiling and wall.

After turning the possibilities over in his mind, he opted for the last. Levering boards you hadn’t fitted yourself could break them or cause obvious sounds or movement. Boring a hole could easily end up with splinters or shavings dropping down where someone could see them.

He scuttled quietly over to one side, which he thought would give him the best view, and then very slowly and cautiously lowered himself until he could
just
make out the room below.

The initial glance was encouraging; there seemed to be about as many people in the little inn as he remembered from their first visit, which meant that business was reasonably good. People’s expressions also covered the gamut but were tending towards good cheer, something he would definitely not expect had, say, a Demonlord announced its overlordship of the country and begun crushing the citizenry.

A young man and young woman—both black-haired and dark-skinned, like the majority of people in Evanwyl—were waiting tables and taking orders, directed partly by an older woman with graying hair who was also going in and out of the kitchen.
I remember her…Gam, I think it was?

The man who had been here on that visit, of course, was gone; Vlay had been a collaborator with Thornfalcon, one of the few who knew of the Justiciar’s very
un
heroic tastes and assisted him in the procurement and disposal of people when necessary.
Gam must not have known, if she’s still here.

Poplock settled himself down and listened.
Tobimar knows I’ll be here a while
. You couldn’t gather good intelligence if you weren’t patient. Momentarily, Poplock wondered about Kyri and Rion, but shrugged. Rion had had plenty of opportunities to betray them before. If he was really in league with their enemy, his best bet was probably to just go along with them and then backstab the party when they were already in battle with Viedraverion. If he wasn’t, well, the two had plenty to talk about; sometimes even in Rivendream Pass they’d ended up discussing their younger days to the point that Kyri almost seemed to have forgotten Tobimar was there.

“Hey, Pingall, how goes it? Have a few days next week?”

“Ah, so it’s the harvest you’re ready for? Sure, I have a day or three. Good weather we’ve been having.”

“Not like three years ago. Remember that drought? Like to have lost the whole crop.”

“Oh, yeh, that was bad. Now, not as bad as the one in 2112, though…”

Poplock moved around from point to point along the edge of the rafter space. Most of the discussions were like that—talk of crops for farmers, shipments and manufacturing points for merchants and smiths, a few children out with their parents demanding treats, an apprentice mage of some sort trying to study while her larger companion kept interrupting with questions that showed that he wasn’t perhaps bright enough to understand her answers.

Then he heard something that would have made his ears prick up, if that was something physically possible for a Toad. “…war’s not going well, I hear.”

“Oh, have you heard something since the last quarter-year?”

“My son works the road to the south, you know, and a runner came through—about beat, he was, too. Seems the rumors are true.”

Silence; Poplock noticed the whole inn had suddenly quieted. The protests of the youngest child at the far table were being shushed.

“You mean…” the questioner’s voice dropped to a penetrating whisper, “the
Black City
?”

“That’s what he said,” the first person, an older woman, answered. Her tone was that of someone both horrified, and incredibly pleased to be the one bearing important news. “Said that the City’s sitting right in the center of Hell itself. Said that the Sauran King marched an army right through Hell’s Edge, had them open the gates that were never opened so they could pass through.”

“Great Balance, Enn. That sounds like…”

“Chaoswar, so they say,” Enn continued, with that same horrified relish in her voice. “And that’s not all. He says the
Empire
sent an army through right after. Both the Dragon and the Archmage are on the move. What does
that
say?”

“I don’t believe it,” a deep-voiced man said, though his tone was uncertain. “The Black City’s the center of All Hells, not something sitting on
this
world.”

The debate went on below. The bit about the Black City wasn’t news to Poplock; he, Kyri, and Tobimar had been at the Spiritsmith’s when it happened, and the Spiritsmith himself had told them what they had seen. But the idea that the massed armies of the Dragon and of Idinus of Scimitar himself had gone together to face the threat…that was news, and not really good news. Well, it was good that someone was facing the forces of Kerlamion, but Poplock had a bad feeling that once the King of All Hells had a foothold on Zarathan he wasn’t going to be easy to kick back off.

The smiles were fewer and the atmosphere of the inn had changed. The discussion of a Chaoswar that might already be upon them had thrown a pall over the entire crowd. Some were already leaving.

Then Poplock caught a fragment of another conversation.

“…to believe. Haven’t been any travelers through Evanwyl in months.”

“Not quite true. There’s that group of youngsters that showed up over to the Balanced Meal.”

“Strange ones, those are. Though they say the one boy’s been here before.”

Been here before? Could that be…

“Oh, aye, I know the one. Looks like he could be a by-blow of old Kyril Vantage, eyes just like Miss Kyri he has.”

Poplock felt his broad face trying to split into a grin.

Xavier’s back!