The Sorcerer's Abyss (The Sorcerer's Path) (27 page)

“It was a fun chase,” Drak’kar said, “but not enjoyable enough for me to grant you the quick death I promised. I am afraid it is going to take quite some time. Were you still the Klaraxis I knew and almost respected, I probably would not risk keeping you around, no matter how much joy I would lose by choosing not to use you as my plaything. But in your present form, I now see I have nothing to fear.”

“Master, there is a way out behind you,” a voice whispered behind Azerick. “You must change shape, or you will not fit. Change, quickly, and come around the left side of the boulder.”

Azerick did not acknowledge the voice. He did not even shift his eyes, instead keeping them trained on Drak’kar as he gloated over his victory. Azerick used Klaraxis’ shape-shifting ability to resume his human form. Before he even completed the change, he rolled swiftly to his left and found there was indeed a narrow crevice behind the boulder he was fetched up against. Azerick wriggled into the cleft and strong arms reached out, grabbed him by the wrists, and pulled him in.

He heard Drak’kar roar with rage and felt his powerful body crash against the boulder. Loud cracking sounds filled the air as Drak’kar continued to scream his outrage and tore at the rock with his hands, ripping off huge chunks of stone and hurling them behind him. Azerick kicked with his legs as the creature ahead of him pulled him in deeper. What started as a simple crack in the cliff face eventually became a cave large enough for him to stand.

Even in his human guise, Azerick still possessed his demonic inheritance and was able to see in the darkness with great clarity. The creature was a balrog and looked much like a frog the size of a large man with arms only slightly smaller than its powerful hind legs. Azerick caught his breath, turned, and used his magic to collapse the entire passage through which he had come. He was unsure if Drak’kar could also change shape, but he was going to take no chances.

“Who are you? What is this place?” Azerick asked.

“I am Fu’Marb,” the demon explained. “This is a secret way, a way through the Shattered Lands. My home is not far, and I know the secret ways intimately. I serve My Prince well, yes?”

“You do, Fu’Marb, but why are you not in the battle. How did you find me?”

The balrog licked his lips nervously with his enormous tongue. “I was in the battle, near the back. I saw My Prince, um, choose to leave the battle to his faithful minions. I saw many flyers and the horrible Drak’kar following you. I thought maybe I could be more help to my master here than fighting the unworthy. I did right, Master?”

“You did, Fu’Marb. Is there a way out, preferably nearer the citadel?” Azerick asked.

The balrog bobbed his entire body up and down. “Yes, Master! Through that passage, we can walk the entire length of the Shattered Lands.”

“That is very good. Lead the way, Fu’Marb.”

The balrog bobbed up and down twice before hurriedly leading the way down the tunnel. Fu’Marb often looked back to ensure his prince was following and did not fall far behind. Azerick let the demon precede him down the passage and never saw the sinister grin stretching across the creature’s broad face or the blue glimmer occasionally emanating from his eyes.

The Rook had not lied, not entirely. The balrog had indeed lived nearby, but he never joined the battle. The assassin found the coward hiding amongst the rocks after he followed Azerick as he fled the battle. He then decided to abandon his flying form and use the balrog as his host. Instead of simply driving out Fu’Marb’s soul, he consumed it, memories and all. He needed the balrog’s knowledge of these twisting canyons and dark tunnels. When the time was right, he would plunge his ethereal blade into the sorcerer’s back and finally complete his contract.

CHAPTER 10

Ellyssa closed the Codex Arcana. Her hands trembled and her stomach fluttered, so she took a deep breath to steady her nerves. She had spent the past fortnight studying this spell, and she was as ready as her patience allowed. She stepped to the edge of the natural pool formed from the small stream of water running through a crack in the wall. The young mage began the complex incantation and weaving of mystical energy.

The weave was extremely complex and took all of her concentration. Ellyssa had practiced drawing it on paper and mimicked the somatic motions hundreds of times in the previous two weeks until she could repeat it flawlessly. Still, her nerves warred with her concentration, trying their best to make her misstep and fail, or worse, create a destructive weave that could rage out of control and destroy her.

Ellyssa pulled at the Source, demanding it fuel her spell, and it answered her call. Her skin felt on fire as she channeled more and more power into her body and used it to energize her magical weave. She trembled from the pain and effort of channeling so much power, but her focus remained resolute and she neared the spell’s completion.

Pulling out the blade once belonging to Captain Jake, Ellyssa slashed her hand then tossed the knife into the pool of water. Still holding onto the weave of her spell, she knelt beside the pool, thrust her bleeding hand into the water, and then plunged her head beneath the surface, screaming out the final word of her incantation.

***

Captain Jake stood near the open cargo hatch of his ship supervising the distribution of pirated cargo between his flagship and the other frigate with which he collaborated. They were both anchored far out at sea and had recently plundered a large cargo ship of her goods. His haul was in a bit of disarray as the cargo ship had been taking on water fast and did not offer them the option of an orderly transfer.

The battle had been a bloody affair. The cargo hauler possessed a large crew, half of which were mercenaries for the explicit purpose of battling pirates. The King’s new navy patrolled shipping lanes nearer land, so most pirates like him stuck to the deeper waters far from shore. Fortunately for him and his fellow pirates, there were still those merchants foolish or brave enough, or thought they could hire enough muscle for protection, to risk the longer routes to acquire the rare luxury goods from Lazuul and other exotic places.

Only a few pirates like him had recently broken from tradition and worked as a consolidated team instead of going it alone. The new navy and better-armed merchant galleons made pirating a risky affair. Many of the other captains called him spineless and a poor excuse for a pirate. Jake thought himself pragmatic and smart enough to adapt to the changing winds.

“Captain, something coming toward us off the port rail,” came the report from the crow’s nest.

Captain Jake pulled the brass spyglass from his hip, extended it to its full length, and peered out into the ocean. From his lower vantage point, he failed to spot what his lookout had seen. Then a minute later, a small distortion on the sea’s surface appeared in his view. The swell appeared to grow larger as it approached his two ships.

The Captain cupped his hands in front of his mouth and called up to the crow’s nest. “What do you make it out to be?”

The lookout had a much larger spyglass and could mount it to the edge of the crow’s nest. “Looks like a swell, maybe breaking into a wave.”

Rogue waves were not unheard of, but the sea was almost glass smooth and the waters here were very deep. Those two conditions alone made the possibility of a rogue wave very unlikely. Jake continued to watch the swell, now definitely a wave as the white froth of water highlighted its apex and moved with unnatural speed. Its location and the speed of its approach was not the only thing unusual about it. Any single wave like that, usually caused by some massive upheaval like an erupting volcano or earthquake, spanned miles. This one was, at most, a few hundred yards wide and heading directly for his ships.

“Batten the hatches and tie in!” Jake ordered.

“Captain, we ain’t finished transferring the cargo,” a crewman yelled back.

“Forget the cargo! Someone’s set a spirit on us.”

His crew scrambled about the deck, following the Captain’s orders. The men redoubled their efforts when the wave was close enough for them to see with their own eyes. It continued to grow as it got closer, and it now reached higher than the ship’s deck. Captain Jake kept his spyglass trained on the strange wave and gasped as he made out a form beginning to take shape in the frothing cusp.

Captain’s Jake’s jaw began to tremble uncontrollably as a face, etched with fury appeared. There was no longer any doubt this was an unnatural phenomenon, nor was he a random target. The Witch of North Haven had finally found him. He had heard of the deaths in the city and of the young woman who always asked for him by name before killing every slave runner she could get her hands on. Jake had long suspected her identity, but now there was no longer any doubt. The girl wizard he had captured and sold to the Vila had escaped and was now hunting him down, just as she had promised.

He learned of the Vila’s death at the hands of an army led by a sorcerer. He assumed it was the girl’s master. She had warned him he was a very dangerous man and would come for her. However, he also heard that the sorcerer had died in the battle, so he thought himself reasonably safe. Jake still avoided the mainland ports, especially after hearing about the witch looking for him. Apparently, he had underestimated the girl’s determination and ability.

An awful keening like the wail of a banshee coupled with the force of a hurricane filled his ears and turned his guts to water. Every man aboard stopped what they were doing, clasped their hands over their ears, and looked out in horror at the wave as it grew until it towered over the top of the mainmast. All could see the face of the witch, screaming her rage. Deep within her briny eyes, her hatred promised death for every man aboard.

The witch wave formed two fists the size of large wagons and the entire form crashed down upon his ship, crushing everything and everyone beneath its thousands of gallons of liquid mass. Wood splintered and shattered under the assault and crushed or washed men from the deck. The ensorcelled wave tore Captain Jake’s ship apart and pulled it beneath the briny surface. The second ship fared better as it was not the witch’s focus, but it too was brutalized by the terrifying construct. The outer edge of the wave snapped all three masts, stripped it of sails, and nearly capsized it. The wave swept at least two dozen men overboard, half of whom never returned to the surface. The terrifying assault passed as swiftly as it struck.

Ellyssa awoke, sore, exhausted, and in a great deal of pain. She was lying next to the pool, how long she had been there was anyone’s guess. Given how hungry she was, probably at least a day if not two or even three. She was lucky to have apparently rolled over and out of the pool at some point, or she probably would have drowned.

Movement in the darkness alerted her to the fact she was not alone. Ellyssa drew a tendril of power from the Source and created a soft light. Even that small feat made her head swim and ache with a dull throbbing. At the edge of her pale blue light, she saw Wolf sitting at her small, rickety table with Ghost practically attached to his hip as usual.