Phoenix in Shadow - eARC (8 page)

“Silavarian,” repeated Poplock. “That could become ‘Silverun’ very easy.”

“Very,” agreed Tobimar. “Anything else?”

“Some. Though both Evanwyl and Silavarian were small, they both had power and influence considerably greater than their size. Myrionar was at its peak of power then, worshipped by many across the continent, and Evanwyl was the center of the faith. And the Lords of the Sky...” he grinned again. “There was a good reason for that name. They had either discovered a secret, or developed a technique, which allowed them to make airships that traded across the continent, and by the end were well on their way to helping to unite most of the countries—not under one flag, but in trade and better understanding. Powerful enough to travel without concern of attack by any save a Dragon in the air, swift, much more reliable and less able to be interfered with than teleportation or other such spells, the airships of the Lords were the bedrock of trade and diplomatic communications.”

Kyri felt cold and knew Tobimar had the same thoughts. “And
that’s
why it was singled out by the Demons in the Chaoswar.”

The Wanderer was grave. “I would guess so, yes. With the usual disruption by the forces unleashed in a Chaoswar, only the Lords’ ships
could
have maintained any sort of cohesion between countries. They
had
to be taken down. The fact that—according to strong rumor—they were blessed of Terian and held the Seven and the One merely made them a greater target.”

Kyri saw Tobimar nod, at once more solemn and more confident.
Of course. This is what he and his people have been searching for, and now the Wanderer’s finally confirmed everything he hoped to believe.

Then Poplock said, “So...what are you hiding?”

The Wanderer raised an eyebrow. “How do you mean?”

“You’re good at ducking and weaving, but so am I.” The little Toad squinted at him narrowly. “You didn’t answer my question, really. Just diverted off into talking about what you knew about the
Hollow
, but I didn’t ask about that, I asked what you knew about the
situation
. And I think you know a
lot
. You’re the guy they say the gods tread lightly around, that’s not bound by destiny, that’s faced down Dragons and devised weapons against demons, that’s tricked one of the Nine Kings with a handful of sand and his own pure will. You’re living a hop or two from Evanwyl. I think you know what’s going on.”

Kyri turned to look at the Wanderer, who was smiling bemusedly at Poplock. “Cogent and well stated, little Toad. I don’t know
everything
that’s going on. But I do know a lot more about it than you do. And I’m not going to be able to tell you much.”

“Why
not?
” Kyri demanded. “Do you like playing games with people? That’s not what the stories say!”

Now there was no sign of a smile on the Wanderer’s face; instead there were lines of worry, of pain that had not been visible before. “No, I don’t. It is not that I don’t want to tell you, Kyri, Tobimar... Poplock. It’s that I cannot. I
dare
not.” His gaze caught hers. “Recall the words that Myrionar spoke to you, the night It called you to its aid: ‘
What I know would be too dangerous for you now, and there is still much hidden from me,
’ yes?”

She was stunned. Only five people other than herself had she ever told of that particular speech: Aunt Victoria, Toron, Tobimar, Poplock, and Xavier Ross. “
How do you know that?
”

“Because Myrionar
told me
,” he answered, and his voice was cold iron. “And those words are just as true now. There are truths you cannot—you
must not
—know.”

Tobimar’s fists clenched. “So. You, like Khoros...perhaps even
with
Khoros...are playing a chessmaster, using us like pieces on your board, pushing us to perform some set of acts you need done.”

“Yes...and no,” he said quietly. “Your wills are your own. In fact, they
must
be your own. It is just that there are things you must do in your own way, without direction or control. In fact, if I
were
to attempt to direct you, to tell you everything I know, or part of it, I would likely destroy everything we all hope to accomplish. Even though I
know
that there will be points at which
not
knowing something could get you all killed, and that, too, will destroy everything we hope to accomplish.”

Kyri stared at him, anger, concern, and confusion making a nauseating mix in her gut. “What do you mean?” She made a leap of intuition. “A prophecy. You have a prophecy.”

For a moment, that smile returned, sharp and lopsided, too knowing yet edged with sadness. “Not...precisely. Though, perhaps, close enough for your purposes.”

“A prophecy we cannot be
told?”

He sighed, turned away, looked at the cold fire on the other side of the room. “Telling...can change the actions of others. Sometimes knowing can be worse than not knowing.”

“Explain that,” Poplock said after a moment.

The Wanderer rubbed his neck. “Hmm. How to put it... All right. Imagine that I had dropped by Pondsparkle a little before you guys hit your panic mode. I come in, let you know what’s going on, maybe give you some assistance in getting that group shut down. Then what happens?”

Poplock scratched his head. “Well...”

“Poplock doesn’t leave his hometown,” Tobimar said slowly. “Or at least he doesn’t leave it at the same time. So he’s not there in the Temple when I’m cornered.”

Kyri felt a dull ache of grim understanding and continued for him. “So the two of them never meet, and aren’t there at the murder of the Sauran King. And don’t join with Xavier. So nobody’s there to distract Thornfalcon...”

The Wanderer nodded slowly. “I don’t like the term ‘playing’ in this circumstance...but at the same time, it’s appropriate. We—including you—are playing a game of bluffs, of shadow-moves and strategies and tactics that interact with each other on a thousand layers. Even an apparent disaster may lead to victory, but if someone
knows
about that apparent disaster, they may choose the apparently better path, and lead us to
real
disaster. It’s bad enough that
I
know all of this!” The Wanderer slammed his staff down in frustration, an impact that echoed throughout the forge. “Do you think I don’t want to just set things
right?
Hell, it’s what I came here
for
. It’s my
job
.” He looked up, into a sky beyond the stone above. “But we don’t know everything, especially about our adversary, and one wrong word...could ruin it all.”

Kyri closed her eyes. She thought she could—vaguely—understand what the Wanderer was trying to get across, and it was terrifying and frustrating at the same time. But...“Wanderer, can you tell me one thing?”

He looked at her steadily. “I don’t know. Depends on the one thing. But ask.”

She looked at her two friends, then took a breath. “Did Myrionar tell me truly otherwise? If...we have faith in this, will we come through? Can I truly have full measure of justice and vengeance, can I find the true enemy behind everything and take them down? Can we all survive this?”

He looked at her steadily, his expression now so carefully controlled it gave away nothing. “I can answer that. You
can
come through. You
can
survive. But there is no certainty that you
will
, and much will depend on your choices—all of your choices. We don’t
know
all the details; Khoros doesn’t tell
anyone
everything—sometimes I wonder if he tells
himself
everything—Myrionar hasn’t revealed everything It knows to me, I’ve got secrets I can’t tell them, and of course our opposite numbers do their level best to tell us nothing at all. I can’t warn you, even if I wanted to, of many specifics. A lot of this really, truly
is
on your shoulders, not just a set of moves plotted out in advance. I honestly
do not know
exactly what waits for you in Moonshade Hollow...just that you three, and
only
you three, can face it and emerge to victory.

“And that
is
all I can tell you.”

Kyri felt for a moment that she might burst from the frustration, but then took a breath.
Let it go.

Tobimar looked little different, and she saw him do something very similar. “Well...I thank you for what you
could
tell us, sir,” he said. “You did, in fact, tell us some things that will be very useful. Being warned that our powers will be limited in the Hollow...it’s sure a lot better to know that ahead of time.”

The Wanderer nodded, then smiled again. “Another minor correction...I didn’t say that
all
your powers would. Unless I miss my guess,
your
abilities should be very little affected, as yours—and your friend Xavier’s—are not, precisely, magical in origin, nor from some outside source like the gods.”

“But I’d better prep and load up now,” Poplock said wryly, looking at his stuff spread out over the anvil, “because I’m starting out behind and now my brand-new magic’s going to have a brand-new handicap.”

Chapter 9

“All went well, then?”

The light-destroying figure in the mirror-scroll smiled. “Exactly as we expected, yes,” Kerlamion said in the eerie deep, howling tones of tortured air. “Condor is on his way back to you even now.”

It nodded, smiling; despite the human form, anyone watching would have known there was something desperately
wrong
from that smile alone. “Excellent, my King. I will keep an eye out for him. It would
not
do for him to meet up with anyone else along the way who might reveal some unfortunate facts.”

“Even so. But enough of your private projects.”

“My apologies, Majesty. If I can only be assured of the one other—”

“Yes. I have given the directions. Balinshar is not entirely pleased, but you have assured me of the necessity, and so what you requested you shall have. Now, of the other matters...?”

Very good. Very good indeed.
With the Black City now arrived and all wars progressing, Kerlamion had been delegating more of the details of remote operations to it, trusting the humanoid yet inhuman figure with completing the plan which, admittedly, had been more its than Kerlamion’s. This did unfortunately demand rather more of its time than it had expected, especially with the promising and extremely capable Thornfalcon now regrettably out of the picture. “Aegeia is in complete chaos now; I expect the endgame of that little farce to play out in, oh, the next few months. The Academy appears to be out of the picture, or so I am assured by Kurildis and, indeed, no communications other than Kuri’s have been forthcoming, so I’m reasonably confident that the job has been done.”

It gave a sigh and shook its head. “There has unfortunately been some sort of...disruption in Skysand; forces that we were unaware of. Shangvaldi thinks she can still prevail with the additional resources granted her, but I am, regrettably, dubious. Whenever someone starts in on that ‘everything’s under control, I just need a
little
help’ approach...”

Kerlamion frowned and nodded slowly. “But if they are delayed even a few months...”

“Yes, that’s how I view it. Even if Skysand recovers fully, it will take them months to get any of their forces anywhere that matters, and by then the battles should be decided. Same for Balgoltha and his debacle. All he needs to do is keep the
Artan
busy for even the fourth part of a year and his failure need not be fatal.”
Though depending on how things are going at that point, it may well
be
fatal for Balgoltha in any case. That one’s been dodging the consequences for failure since the Fall, and I think his time’s just about up
.

“So. What of our greatest adversaries?”

“The Empire of the Mountain, I am afraid, cannot be prevented from mobilizing, though they, like the Dragon-King’s State, must keep some of their forces busy bottling up our puppets in Dalthunia. News of the emergence of the Black City will reach Zarathanton soon enough. In the Empire, well, it will be heard there as well in very short time, if the Archmage has not sensed it on his own.”

“No matter. We have anticipated this, and their armies will be ineffectual by the time they reach us. But—”

“—yes, Majesty, I was just getting to that. Of Khoros...I must candidly say I cannot find him. I did not expect to, honestly; he is...very good at evading detection. The Wanderer is in fact on the move as well, but I cannot say precisely where he is, either; you know how hard he is to track. Nonetheless, he will tend to be both more straightforward and more cautious. I would expect him to choose some group or location to aid and travel there directly. Khoros is undoubtedly playing the puppetmaster as usual, and thus his hand may be felt anywhere, even if his actual location is far distant.” He shrugged. “Our plans attempt to take him into account; his, presumably, attempt to do the same for us.”

“And the Gods?”

“The Cycle of the Dragon is not in their favor, as we hoped. Elbon Nomicon sleeps now, and will not be easily roused; so, too, for many of the others of the Sixteen, and of those awake, several were not incarnate on Zarathan when your bargains were struck, so they cannot face you directly.” He debated momentarily with himself on whether to reveal some details, decided that it was wise to continue to appear as honest as possible. “The Mortal God, on the other hand...there are signs of his activity. I have sensed something of his essence in several locations, and you are of course aware of the Skysand Prince.”

Kerlamion’s eyes narrowed. “Yes. But if he follows the path you expect, that should...eliminate the problem entirely, yes?”

“It should indeed. As you have agreed to my one request, I am confident things will proceed according to plan. Myrionar continues to weaken; the other gods will react as we expect, but the pact limits them. Only the Golden-Eyed and the Reclaimed Temple remain unknown factors in those realms, but while they are definitely in opposition to us, they are also not terribly powerful.”

“Acceptable. I expect you to continue to direct events outside of the Black City; my attention will be focused here.”

“As you direct, so it shall be, Majesty.”

The communications scroll went blank, back to silver-on-gold. It leaned back and chuckled quietly.
Ah, the excitement of beginning the real game at last.
It had not—precisely—lied to the King of All Hells, but the
way
in which it had reported certain facts, deductions, and expectations was certainly misleading. For example, while indeed there had been no new communications other than those of Kurildis from the isolated valley of the Academy, it had also been a significant time since Kurildis had communicated at all.
Kurildis always did seem a bit overconfident; when planning an assault on the institution that trains Adventurers, one would be wise to remember what Adventurers are best known for doing.

The fact was that while the figure did not in any way
oppose
Kerlamion, Its goals were not those of the King of All Hells, and it was important that Kerlamion not grasp exactly what It intended, until it was far too late to change the outcome.

Time to set the rest in motion
. It touched the scroll, spoke several words in the demonic tongue with which the scroll had been forged, and saw the silver fade to cloudy gray.
You had best answer, my friend.

“You interrupt me again? Speak, then, but quickly. I have little time to spare for distractions, and my other patrons demand enough as it is.” The voice was sharp, yet despite the annoyance it was also dispassionate, cold and measured in words and timbre in a way that the inhuman figure found extremely comforting.
Here is someone who will be unswayed by any considerations other than his own.

“My apologies. But I have excellent news. I promised you an assistant, and have found one that I believe will meet even your...extremely demanding requirements. One who also has knowledge that touches on your speciality.”

The voice was suddenly a touch warmer. “Really? One who could understand
my
work?”

“I believe so. At least as well as I understand it.”

“Hmph. Well, you understand it better than any other I have met, vastly more than these idiots I currently work for. If it were not for the challenge and the resources—”

“I understand. But truly, would you give that up?”

“Never!”
the voice snapped. “This has brought me close indeed; even with their demands and distractions I have made great progress.” A hesitation, then, “And...I will thank you for assisting me to find this place. They do, at least, appreciate what I can do for them, even if they place far too much importance on the trivialities.” The unseen speaker’s tone warmed again. “So when may I expect my new assistant?”

“In a few days. I am arranging the transport. Also...you may expect the key you have been seeking soon, perhaps in a month or three. I cannot
control
this, you understand, but I have every reason to believe it to be true.”

“Excellent.
Excellent!
I must begin preparations for the unlocking. Thank you for this news.”

The scroll cleared abruptly, making the figure laugh and shake its head.
Unable to even bother with the niceties. I doubt he will remember, or care, to mention this to his main employers. Well, he will play his part nonetheless, and I can attend to his minor lapse of courtesy.

Once more a gesture and a few words and the mirror turned to gray, and then showed the person he had expected.

“Ermirinovas, how kind of you to answer my call.”

“How could I refuse, Viedra,” she asked, with a brilliant flash of a smile, “given how rarely you have called of late. Besides, Kalshae is currently...occupied.”

“Our King has given me...many assignments in the past centuries. But I have not forgotten you. What news of you and your sisters? How goes your extraction operation? Has my little referral to you given you assistance?”

“He is arrogant and insolent and one day I will likely kill him, but yes, he has achieved much. More power have we gained than I had imagined possible, especially given the circumstances. But there are...side effects.” She grimaced and gestured at herself.

“Well, yes, a pity—though there are those who would find the effect quite pleasing. Still, given what you are working with, there are many dangers from the...waste products, so to speak.”

“And not just in appearance. I have lost at least three of our own people to...well, you can guess.” Her face fell for a moment.

“Sentiment? I hope you are not—”

The face hardened immediately. “Certainly
not
. But the waste and loss of capable labor are extremely regrettable. Unfortunately, the last and greatest source has proven difficult to extract.”

“You may expect the key to that extraction soon enough; I informed our mutual friend of it just ere I called you.”

“Oh,
wonderful!
” Lit up with such anticipation, she was quite lovely, the humanoid figure thought with wry amusement. “And then—”

“Then I believe you shall achieve what you seek, indeed. I hope you will remember me fondly.”

“If we succeed?” She laughed, and though the sound was light and airy, something within and behind that laugh could have sent chills down an ordinary man’s spine. “Oh, then, Viedra, I will perhaps have my own offer to you of something even our King cannot give.”

“Indeed? Then I wish you all luck, indeed. I am sending a new aide to assist in the project, and he will also carry details of what to expect and my advice on how to handle the matter.”

“You really should call more often, Viedra, if all such calls would be so hopeful!”

It chuckled, and the lights about the room flickered. “You are too kind, Ermirinovas. But I must go; much to do, much to arrange.”

The scroll blank again, It nodded, a satisfied smile on its face. Ermirinovas was powerful, even by demonic standards—one of Kerlamion’s second-generation children, rumored to be spawn of Kerlamion and one of the Elderwyrm. But like so many demons, she wanted more—enough to carve out her own realm, either within the Hells, or on Zarathan itself. Her current project—if it succeeded, and nothing went terribly amiss—might give her both. That would be amusing, and for other projects It was contemplating, could be useful as well.

To make that happen, of course, required arranging one more thing. It waved and spoke to the scroll once more, and this time the scroll cleared to show a face—one proud and handsome yet twisted, horned and gray, muscled like a warrior but with the wisdom of ages in the hate-filled eyes, one of those that exemplified the word
demon
. “Ah, Balinshar, how good of you to answer.”

“Viedraverion.” The Demon’s voice echoed tightly-leashed anger. “So you have managed to kiss your Father’s...feet enough to get him to order one of my finest servants into
your
hands, have you?”

“Oh, very good, his Majesty has already told you.” It smiled broadly at Balinshar, not rising to the bait in the least.
You, yourself, are of much less account than you wish, Balinshar, and think yourself of greater power than you are. You are not half so interesting as your favorite servant.
“Send the boy through, then. I have many things to do today.”

“I look forward to the day when you stumble, Viedra,” Balinshar hissed. “On that day many of us will compete for your soul, if the King of All Hells does not take it himself.”

“Yes, yes, I’m sure. Send the boy through.” It stood and held the scroll up sideways, left it hanging in midair. “Or must I call Father for more...encouragement?”

The answer was a rather pedestrian insult, but then Balinshar had never been terribly creative. A major flaw of most demons, really. “Very well.”

At Balinshar’s gesture a tall, slender figure moved forward hesitantly. “My lord?”

“Do not be afraid, Tashriel,” It said. “I have a unique task for you.”

Still looking nervous, the figure—appearing to be a human youth in his late teens or very early twenties, with long white hair and a face whose sharp-carven features reminded It strongly of someone else—stepped forward, and in a blaze of light emerged before It.

The being then passed Its hand over the scroll, returning it to inert blankness, and smiled. It saw the young man shiver slightly. At this range, the yellow eyes revealed some inhuman blood within Tashriel, but he still looked mostly like a young man.

How very deceptive. Even the shiver is deceptive; he would be a most formidable opponent if he chose to be.
“Tashriel, I have need of your unique knowledge—your most
ancient
unique knowledge.”

His eyes went wide. “My lord...I am forbidden to—”

“Tsk, tsk, Tashriel. The King of All Hells himself has assigned you to me, for this very express reason. I assure you, in this case I have pressing need for the talents you learned...in A’Atla’Alandar.”

There was still a trace of uncertainty, but much more of excitement and anticipation in the eyes of the boy-who-was-not-a-boy. “Truly, Lord Viedraverion?”

“Truly, Tashriel. I have a...most
fascinating
assignment for you. One that you will carry out as honestly and humbly as if it were truly what you wished, and have to act otherwise only if the enterprise fails. And in
that
case...”