Regret's Shadow (Sins of Earth Trilogy) (23 page)

Dramus ran without thought.  He couldn’t tell where he was going.  Stumbling through a few darkened turns, he finally saw light down one corridor.  He made for it, then stopped.

  Which way should he go?  If he went toward the light, it surely would lead to his recapture.  If he went off into the dark, he could be lost for days, or worse.  He could fall into a well or a pit and lay in the dark, dying alone.

Just as he’d decided to make for the light, a bony hand gripped his shoulder and he yelped.

Pale blue eyes blazed in the dark, and Dramus could just make out the sharply
wrinkled features of Calistra’s wizard, Tolwyn.  His spirits crashed to the stones below.

“I think you had better stop all this foolish running about,” the mage said, his voice like fingernails on a chalkboard. 

Clearly the man was ancient, but he must have enhanced his strength with magic.  Try as he might, Dramus couldn’t break the man’s grasp.

“All this wriggling will not avail you,” Tolwyn hissed.  He yanked Dramus forcibly around, and began marching him back toward the device. 

“I’ve been bending the very fabric of reality since well before you were born.  Do not test me.”

With that, the glowing eyes grew brighter, and searing pain lanced through Dramus’s body.  Had he not been caught in
the vice-grip of the wizard, he’d have hit his knees.  As it was, he staggered, whimpering feebly.

It was in this state that he was brought back to the circular chamber.  Calistra stood silently rega
rding the corpse of her former captain of the guard.  She looked up as the two entered, her eyes pools of hate.

“You see what you’ve done?  I’ve slaughtered my right-hand-man.”

She stepped toward him, brilliant green blade raised before her.  Dramus tried to look away, but Tolwyn’s other incredibly strong hand jerked his head to face her.

“You understand now what I will do to any who get in my way,” she hissed.

Dramus nodded in a barely perceptible motion.  She looked up at Tolwyn.

“Stay here with him,” she commanded, “I want the device operational immediately.” 

She let the blade linger near Dramus’s face for a heartbeat longer, before moving away down the corridor.

Tolwyn shoved him to the
dais, and Dramus nearly tripped over the bodies littering the floor.  He sobbed softly.

“Do it.  Now
,” Tolwyn said.

Dramus blinked away his tears, and began to fumble once again with the nuclear bomb.  He made no progress, too distraught to work.  

Suddenly his vision faded, and he felt another presence force its way into his mind.  He resisted, but the power of Malavarious Drejth was titanic compared to his will.

The guard which stood just outside the entrance to the basement of the warehouse sprouted an arrow from his eye and dropped.  Hade nodded gratefully to Ethelrynne before continuing into the room.

They’d breached the warehouse without resistance, and were currently making their way down into the old sewers.  The guard at the trapdoor was a good sign they were on the right track.

Unfortunately
, Hade thought,
we have no idea what their watch routines are like, and that first kill sets our timetable in motion.
 

He scurried to the man’s corpse and checked him over.
  He wore a Lockhaven tabard over mail.  Hade silently pointed it out to the group, before opening the trap gingerly. 

The hinges squeaked mildly in protest, but there was nothing for it.  Hade nodded to the others, indicated the amulet at his neck, and descended into the dark.

They’d all been issued magical charms by Günter’s court wizard.  The amulets would allow them to see in the dark, for a short time.  This would let the group get the jump on the baroness’s men, without giving away themselves with torches. 

Hade
had audibly sighed in relief when the man had brought forth the items.

Now he
led them through the basement, to another trapdoor, this one clumsily concealed with sacks of moldy grain.  The dust around the door had obviously been disturbed and it gave away the door to anyone bothering to look.

They moved deeper into the sewers.  After several hundred yards, Hade began to see a light ahead.  He knew that the moment of truth was at hand.  Surprisingly, he felt little fear at the idea.

He halted the group, and as they gathered, whispered in the dark.

“This is it.  We hit them hard and fast.  Reynolt,” he nodded to the young wizard, “keep your eyes out for any mages.  I don’t know if Drejth will be with them, but keep on your toes.” 

Reynolt nodded in return.

“The rest of you stick with me.  Ethelrynne will cover us with he
r bow,” he set his hand on the princess’s arm.  She patted it reassuringly.

“Remember, the goal is Calistra Emberlock and her artifact.  Everything else is
irrelevant.  Take her alive if you can, dead if need be.  Head back to the rally point if and when we succeed.

“Ready?”

Everyone nodded.  Hade turned and got set.

No more plans, no more speeches.  All that was left was action.

He continued at half a crouch down the corridor, noting as he did that the light was coming from around a corner in the hall. 

He sidled up to i
t and listened.  Men were talking in whatever room lay beyond.

He darted his head around the corner, and quickly back.  He had seen a large room with a round table an
d several men milling about it. 

He held up his hand to the others, indicating five soldiers.  There were probably more, but he couldn’t be sure. 

Gripping his longsword, he steeled himself and then charged around the bend.

Dramus stood overlooking Galloway, or what was left of it.  He was standing in the same spot he had been in when they’d first seen the city from the bench of the wagon. 

Below, there was only
smoldering ash.  Ships in the roiling bay beyond were like candles ablaze.

“Enjoying the view?”

He started, and saw a man standing next to him.  He immediately knew it was Drejth, although he’d never seen the shade before.  He began to realize that the wraith was in his head, and he shivered.

“You have a
choice, Dramus,” Drejth sighed, turning to face him. 

“You can be part of the rubble you see here, with your soul as mine to torment, or you can do your job and finish arming the warhead.”

“How did you even know about it?” Dramus asked, suddenly curious, despite the situation.

“Because I
remember
,” Drejth spat.  “I remember the world before Tancred Van Uther forced me to use my magic to make the people forget.  I remember Earth.”

The name struck Dramus, and he immediately remembered glyphs on the door to the Vault of Secrets. 

Suddenly the panorama changed to reflect the memory, and the two stood in the darkened corridor outside the Vault.

Drejth waved his hand and the door slid open, revealing the lit corridor beyond.  They
began to move through it, not really walking, but not standing still.

“You see, humans are not native to Valia,” he held up his hand
at Dramus’s shocked expression.

“I know, I know-impossible.  But alas, it’s true.  This ‘Vault’ you see here, it is actually merely
part of a massive spacecraft; a ship that sailed the stars.”

They came to a room with several computer stations, and Drejth waved one into life.  The screen showed the green-blue orb of Earth.  As he spoke, the view zoomed in to show Dramus the cities of the human
home world.

“We were an advanced race, Dramus.  We’d left our backwards ways behind millennia ago, to explore science and technology.  We built wonders undreamt of in your ‘modern’ age.”

The images scrolled through shots of aircraft, ships on the ocean, cars, robots, skyscrapers, on and on in an endless stream of wonders.  Dramus struggled to keep up, both with the pictures and with what he was being told.

“Now to be fair, we did overstep our bounds there toward the end,” Drejth said, almost apologetically, “But there were foolish men in charge then.”

Now the images began to show massive war machines, with biomechanical structures, bristling with weapons of unimaginable power.

“We made the
Dragons, creatures of both flesh and steel, to fight our wars for us. 

“
Unfortunately,” he waved his hand and the monitor changed to scenes of massive devastation, rioting, and eventually a mass exodus to giant spacecraft clawing for orbit.

“The damn things got pissed off!”

Drejth chuckled as Dramus watched the end of the Earth in horror. 

Several monstrosities were tearing at the very fabric of the world, while more preyed upon ships too slow or too late to escape.  It was death on an unimaginable scale, and Dramus began to weep.

“Yes, it was tragic,” Malavarius said in a voice that seemed to say he thought anything but, “Humanity paid for its arrogance, but not in full.”

The images changed to graphic animations showing ships spreading out from the origin point of Earth to seed hundreds of planets throughout the galaxy.  Dramus was reeling from the info, his brain buzzing with the power of his gift.

Eventually the graphic was replaced with something like a log, showing the crew of a starship, working and going about their daily tasks, in environs strikingly similar to the halls Dramus now found himself in.

“Valia was one of the plausible planets for colonization, and so a seed ship was sent here. 
Unfortunately, she came under attack by the greatest of the Dragons,
Renge
, while en route.”

The monitor showed scenes of panic, with sparks and flames shooting from consoles, and shouting people running about. 

At one point a massive claw ripped through the ceiling and the screen faded to white snow.

“We’re lucky anyone survived the crash, to be honest.” Drejth turned to face Dramus, as the Vault behind him dissolved to a dull gray void. 

“Humanity is incredibly tenacious, however, and here we are.

“Hundreds of years passed before the mutations began to show, and hundreds more
before men were able to channel the Arcane.  Then, yours truly came along.  I showed those fools what real magic was.   They had been stumbling along with candles in the dark; I brought them daylight.

“
As we began to develop technology once again, the Van Uthers realized the danger of repeating history.  So, they convinced me to put the genie back in the bottle, as it were.  It was
my
magic that erased the knowledge of Earth and our history from the minds of men.”

Dramus shook his head, “I can’t believe it.  Why are you showing me this?”

Drejth looked patient, “Because I want you to know the truth, Hiltsman.  Because you think I’m simply a madman bent on revenge.

“
While this is true,” he smirked, “it’s not the whole story.  You’ve been lied to your whole life, along with the rest of mankind, for over a thousand years.

“I think it’s time to show everyone the truth.”

Suddenly Dramus found himself back in the circular chamber, staring at the device.  He felt feverish, and his skin itched like it had been stretched thin.  He shuddered.

“Hurry up, whelp.”  Tolwyn hissed from behind him.

“Make your choice…” Drejth’s voice echoed in his mind.  For a moment he simply blinked rapidly, shaking away the last of the vision.

Then h
e set to work, thinking of Gwyneth, the Temple, his friends.  Even if Drejth had been lying to him, (and it seemed less likely considering the vision, as well as the very existence of the bomb itself), he wouldn’t live his life knowing what he’d done to Galloway.

He began to set the bomb for decommissioning.

Suddenly, there came shouts echoing down the corridor, and Dramus looked up to see Tolwyn turn.

“What the blazes?” the wizard shrieked, before running down the hall.

Dramus seized the opportunity.  He deftly reached in and removed the warhead’s core, careful not to jar it.  As he turned to flee, he nearly fainted away to see the corpse of Erick rise to bar his exit.

“You’ve chosen…poorly,” the thing
gurgled.

Hade pulled his blade free of a dying man’s torso, as an arrow whipped past his ear and into the throat of another Lockhaven soldier.  Nearby one man screamed and stumbled, his blazing form collapsing before a glowing-eyed Reynolt.

He had to admit the assault was going better than he’d imagined.  Calistra had not had enough men to spare for a full
complement of troops, and so their band was making short work of them.  He began to think they’d succeed when the baroness herself showed up, trailed by her pet wizard.

“So, Remiel’s stooges have come to
forestall the inevitable, eh?” she cackled. 

One of the king’s soldiers charged her and she casually defeated his attack, before spilling his bowels to the stones.

“Weak,” she chided.

“Drop your sword and give yourself up, Baroness,” Hade commanded.  She sized him up and then snorted in derision.

Tolwyn stepped forward and raised his hands to Hade, his pale blue eyes glowing.

Reynolt rushed to his
side, brown orbs flashing red, and suddenly the two wizards became embroiled in a duel of wills.

“Ethel
rynne!” Hade hollered, and the princess sent a shaft toward the evil wizard’s heart. 

Amazi
ngly, the glowing blade of the baroness intercepted the missile, reducing it to ash.

“An elf?  Really?  I hadn’t imagined the king would stoop so low!” Calistra chided as
she began to stride toward the princess. 

Jericho
and the four remaining guards moved to intercept her, but a squad of Lockhaven men came in through another corridor and they were suddenly pressed.  It seemed Emberlock had kept some men in reserve.

Hade spun around Reynolt, noting that the young wizard was sweating badly.  He looked
to Ethelrynne and noted the princess’s stern gaze as she dropped her bow and drew her curved blade.  Elven glamour rippled along its length, and she grinned grimly as she stepped forward to meet the baroness.

Hade slipped to the room’s eastern wall, skirting the battle to try and reach the ancient wizard.  All the while he kept his ey
es on the duel between the princess and Emberlock.

When their blades met the first time, it seems almost as if the metal cried out in agony.  Ethelrynne was amazed at Calistra’s skill, but she was confident that the human woman was not her match in strength.

Still, Emberlock’s magical blade hungered for blood, and it wasn’t long before the princess bled from several grazing strikes.  Calistra was enjoying the bout, even as she bled from a wound in her thigh.

“Not bad, for a pointy-eared freak,” she spat.

Ethelrynne merely smiled, “I’m glad you’re having fun, Baroness.  I’d hate for you to go out on a down note.”

With that she rushed in with an overhand chop, one that Calistra blocked quickly enough, although the strain was beginning to show on her sweat-streaked face.  She countere
d with a sliding thrust to the princess’s midsection, but it was batted aside with ease.

Behind them, Reynolt went to one knee, his face contorted in pain.  Tolwyn was a master wizard, one who’d been studying his craft for more than twice as long as Reynolt had been alive.  The assault from the old man was withering.

Hade came to within ten feet of the old archmage before he was noticed.

Without interrupting the battering of his younger opponent,
Tolwyn actually turned his head slightly, and then moved one of his hands to gesture at the warrior.

Hade felt as if he’d been kicked by a horse.  He
jerked back against the wall, and felt a few of his ribs go.  His blade snapped in half and flew from his grasp.   He coughed in agony as he went to his knees.  All the while, the old wizard continued his assault on Reynolt.

Hade began to drag himself across the floor, his sword forgotten.  He reached down for his knife, vision blurred by pain.  Tolwyn ignored him and brought all of his will to bear once more against his young opponent.

Reynolt cried out in pain as the battle raged around him.  Jericho and the other soldiers were making headway, but none of them would be free in time to make a difference in the wizards’ duel.  Reynolt only hoped that if he was to die, he could sap enough of the arch mage’s will to help his friends defeat him.

Dramus looked around in panic, before settling his gaze on the body of Wielder Duln. 

Seeing the jerking motions of the Erick-thing, he lunged for the warrior’s sword.  He came up with the blade, just as the zombie was reaching for him.

Miraculously, the blade pierced the thing’s neck.  Blood oozed down the blade, and Dramus dared to hope he’d escape, when the thing’s flailing knocked the core from his hand.

Time seemed to slow as he watched the small device tumble, falling in synch with Erick’s falling corpse.  Just as he was sure that his death was at hand, the core bounced on the rounded corpse of Colius before rolling to gently rest among the folds of his rob
es. 

Dramus
nearly laughed out loud in relief; Colius had finally been useful for something.

He choked as he noticed the small box wired to
the core casing light up.  Tiny diodes began to blink in a numbered pattern.

Countdown.

Dramus knew from the manual that the warhead could be armed for timed detonation instead of impact.  The jolt must have frazzled the wiring. 

He now had fifteen
minutes before the bomb went off.

As he stooped to pick up the fallen core, he heard the shriek of Reynolt’s pain.  Gripping the sword,
he summoned all his courage before marching down the corridor. 

He would quit being used as a
pawn.  He would take back his destiny, even if it was only to choose the manner in which he died.