“Lieutenant, I need a bandage,” Isabel said before he could attend to his duties. He nodded and gestured to another Ranger who produced a field dressing from his pouch and handed it to Isabel. She went to work cleaning and wrapping Alexander’s wound.
***
Alexander stood in the gloom of late evening, watching eleven funeral pyres burn as he struggled to keep his attention away from the throbbing pain in his left arm. He’d applied a generous scoop of healing salve, but it seemed to have no more effect than Isabel’s healing light.
Eleven more people had died for his cause. Ten Rangers and Mage Landi—eleven more families torn asunder.
He pulled Isabel closer.
Mage Gamaliel and the Rangers had carefully transported Jataan back to the Ranger encampment. Boaberous reported that he’d given the battle mage the healing draught but it had no effect. The camp physician had worked on him for over an hour, cleaning and disinfecting the wound and then bandaging it.
His report to Alexander wasn’t optimistic. The injury was deep and the damage was great. He gave Jataan P’Tal even odds of surviving unless some form of magic could be found that would aid in the healing process.
Boaberous had stoically stepped into the position of Alexander’s protector, shadowing him without request or permission, but Alexander knew that as big and formidable as Boaberous Grudge was, he wasn’t equal to the battle mage.
Jataan’s injury had shaken Alexander—not just for the hopefully temporary loss of his protector, but because it had happened at all. He had come to believe that no mortal swordsman was a match for Commander P’Tal. Alexander’s experiences fighting beside the battle mage had only served to confirm that belief.
But this enemy was different—they were created to take those closest to Alexander, and they had succeeded in besting two mages in battle. One dead, the other gravely injured. But they hadn’t succeeded against the Guild Mage.
He’d knocked one of the three men mixed with darkness unconscious, revealing their weakness, and he’d put a magical collar around his neck that confined the darkness within. The prisoner was locked in a cage, awaiting transport to Blackstone Keep.
The funeral fires burned down. Alexander looked at Isabel. He’d come close to losing her today. The thought still made his soul quail. He needed her more than he needed air.
“We should go have a chat with our prisoner,” Alexander said.
She nodded.
Kelvin frowned. “I believe you should have adequate security present. The magic within these men is beyond my understanding and the collar I put on the prisoner may not prevent him from transporting himself outside of the cage.
“When you sent word of the shades,” Kelvin continued, “I conceived of the collar and designed it to act much as a magic circle does—preventing darkness confined within from escaping. My hope was to be able to imprison a shade within a single victim. I never envisioned a creature such as this. However, the prisoner doesn’t seem to be able to wield the magic he used so effectively during the attack.”
“You think he’s just waiting for the right time to strike?” Jack asked.
“Perhaps,” Kelvin said. “Mostly, I’m proceeding with an abundance of caution.”
“You’ll get no argument from me,” Alexander said. “Give me a minute, I have something I need to do before we go have our chat.”
He went to Lieutenant Wyatt and invited him to walk with him. Once they’d strolled out of earshot of the other mourners, they stopped and watched the fading light of the funeral pyres in silence for a moment.
“You and your men have paid a heavy price for volunteering to accompany me,” Alexander said quietly.
Wyatt nodded somberly and fell silent. He was struggling with fresh grief. Alexander gave him the time he needed to find his voice.
“For myself, I’m proud of our service to you and your cause,” Wyatt finally said. “I believe my men are, as well.”
“I have no doubt of that, but you’ve borne more of this burden than most. I know it’s a small consideration but I’d like to offer you and your men any posting you want: Glen Morillian, Southport, Blackstone Keep, wherever you’d like.”
“That isn’t necessary, Lord Reishi,” Wyatt said. “We all understand, better than most, what we’re fighting for. For myself, I want to be on the leading edge of this war and that means standing right next to you, come what may.”
Alexander smiled sadly and nodded. “Well, think about it, talk it over with your men. The offer stands for each of them. Let me know what you decide.”
“Thank you, I will,” Wyatt said.
Alexander clapped him on the shoulder and left him to grieve the loss of his men. He walked with Isabel and Mage Gamaliel to the tent where the prisoner was being held. Jack and Boaberous trailed along behind.
Anatoly was heading toward Blackstone Keep with Lucky. His injury during the battle with the scourgling wasn’t life-threatening because of Isabel’s healing light, but he still needed time to recuperate. Abigail had flown with Mistress Constance and a wing of Sky Knights to the aerie in Blackstone Keep to help them get settled in. Isabel’s wyvern, Asteroth, had gone with her. The rest of the Sky Knights had returned to the fortress island to apprise the triumvirs of the battle.
Before Alexander entered the tent where the prisoner was being kept, he drew Mindbender and shifted his mindset. This interrogation was a battle that he had to win. Information was power and he needed to find out everything he could about the new threat Phane had sent against him. He felt the weight of the sword in his hand and the familiar calm of battle settled over him. He stepped into the tent and locked eyes with his opponent. He was in a fight and he had a sword in his hand. Everything else faded away.
Alexander reached out with Mindbender and listened to the thoughts of the man mixed with darkness. He heard the prisoner think of where he wanted to appear. He flickered in place for just an instant, wisps of darkness surrounded him briefly, but nothing happened. The collar he wore flared with the colors of active magic.
Alexander smiled, “Looks like your collar is working, Kelvin. He just tried to blink behind me but couldn’t.”
The Guild Mage nodded with satisfaction.
Alexander stepped closer, but not too close. “What are you?”
The man smiled with malice. “I am wraithkin. Master made me more than I ever was when I was just a man.” His voice was raspy and ever-so-slightly unhuman.
“I take it Phane is your master.”
“Prince Phane is everybody’s master, even yours, usurper.”
“That remains to be determined,” Alexander said. “How many wraithkin did Phane make?”
He shrugged. “There were almost a hundred of my brethren when we were dispatched to kill everyone that you love.”
The wraithkin smiled as his statement settled into Alexander. He felt a little chill race up his spine.
“How many of your kind are on Ruatha?” he asked.
The wraithkin smiled but said nothing.
Alexander stared at him, waiting for an answer. “One way or another I’ll get an answer to my question.”
The wraithkin shrugged again. “I doubt it. I will answer many questions but none that will help you.”
“Perhaps another line of questioning is in order,” Jack suggested, “if I may?”
Alexander nodded.
“How were you made?” Jack asked.
Kelvin leaned in with greater interest.
“I was once just a man,” the wraithkin said, “but then Master asked for volunteers to become much more than we once were. He called forth a creature from the netherworld and blended it into my being.” He shuddered with pleasure. “You have no idea the power Master gave me.”
“Not enough to get you out of that cage,” Isabel said.
“Not enough to get the job done, either,” Alexander said. “We killed the other two.”
The wraithkin shrugged. “We took several of those who serve you. One by one we will take everyone you care for. You will know the pain of loss so completely that when we come for you, you will welcome the touch of our blades.”
“Doubtful,” Alexander said. “I am curious about those daggers of yours, though.”
The wraithkin smiled knowingly as he looked at the bandage on Alexander’s arm. “Your wound will heal slowly and magic will do nothing to speed the process. Does it hurt?”
Alexander snorted and shook his head. His worry for Jataan increased. With magic to aid in healing, he would be back on his feet in a week, but without it, he might never recover.
“I’ll ask my question again,” Alexander said. “How many of your kind are on Ruatha?”
The wraithkin drew himself up and smiled at Alexander silently.
“Maybe I can persuade him,” Isabel said. She opened her connection to the realm of light and let the Maker’s light pour into her, then began casting a spell. Pure white light arced forth from her hand and hit the wraithkin in the chest. He shrieked with such horror and agony that Alexander felt a little thrill of fear race through him from the sound of it alone. He hadn’t heard anything like it since he’d faced the revenants on Grafton Island.
The wraithkin collapsed to the ground and writhed around in abject torment for several minutes before he regained enough of his senses to stand up. He looked slightly afraid when he faced them again.
“How many?” Alexander said.
The wraithkin started trembling but said nothing.
Isabel smiled humorlessly. “I can cast that spell again and again. And I have to tell you I really wouldn’t mind spending the rest of the night torturing you. You killed several good people today, some were my friends. Answer the question.”
He held his tongue until Isabel started whispering the words of her Maker’s light spell again.
“Nine,” the wraithkin said. “Master sent nine of us aboard the fleet from Andalia. I don’t know how many made it to shore after our ships were sunk. I found the other two and we came here to find you.”
His colors, although tainted by the darkness within, revealed that he was telling the truth.
Chapter 3
They retired to a command tent to discuss what they’d learned.
“At least we know what Phane’s been up to,” Alexander said. He was tired of being on the defensive. Since Phane had awoken, Alexander felt like he’d been back on his heels trying desperately to stay one step ahead of an untimely death. He wanted to find a way to strike back.
“Indeed,” Mage Gamaliel said. “These wraithkin are a significant threat. Loose in an encampment or a city, they could kill countless people before they could be brought down. Fortunately, they’re vulnerable when struck in the head. We should send word of this weakness to all of our forces.”
Alexander nodded. “I’ll have the Rangers send riders north to the main army and south to General Talia and Kevin. When you get a chance, I’d like you to take a look at the daggers they carried, see if there’s any way to magically heal a wound caused by one.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m worried about Jataan. He was hurt pretty badly. Without magic, it will take him months to heal.”
“I’ve collected the blades and will study them briefly this evening but I suspect I’ll need the equipment in my workshop to make a full assessment.” Mage Gamaliel shook his head. “I’ve never heard of such an enchantment. If I’m able to determine how they function, I may be able to construct a counter to the magical taint they leave in a wound.”
“If we assume the worst case, there are still six wraithkin wandering around Ruatha,” Isabel said. “Maybe we should consider sending out teams of hunters to find them.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” Alexander said, nodding. “My father tells me they’ve been training a company of soldiers for special operations. They might be ideally suited to the task.”
“I would concur,” Mage Gamaliel said. “I spent most of the time you were away fashioning armor for the Strikers from the dragon scales we recovered in the Blackstone aerie. They would be better able to defend against the wraithkin than any other soldiers within your army.”
“Good, once we catch up with the main force, I’ll talk to my father about it,” Alexander said. “He might have a suggestion or two. Until then we should probably keep the one we captured alive. He might know something useful about Phane or his army.”
“I agree,” Kelvin said. “While I’m loathe to bring him inside Blackstone Keep, it would give us an opportunity to study him and perhaps learn how he can teleport and heal so quickly. With sufficient understanding, we may be able to undo their power. If there are nearly a hundred wraithkin serving Phane, we’ll need some means to meet the threat.”
“Do you think a magic circle would contain the prisoner?” Jack asked.
“I assume so since the collar works on the same principle, but perhaps it would be wise to test our theory prior to taking him inside the Keep,” Kelvin said.
“That’s probably a good idea,” Alexander said. “We can build a circle within the encampment at the base of the Keep and contain him there.
“Once we get to the Keep, I’m going to hold a King’s Council with as many influential people as possible in attendance. I’ve already sent invitations to the triumvirs of the Sky Knights, and I’d like to have as many of the territorial governors of Ruatha at the table, as well as King Abel. We need to plan our next moves. We have more than enough enemies and not enough resources to face them all. I want to make sure I’m not missing anything before we decide on a course of action.”