An Alliance of Mortals, page 26
part #6 of The New Earth Chronicles Series
“Chao, my name is Magnus. Can you hear me?”
The image came to life and stared back at him in surprise.
“Magnus? The shaman? Yes, I can hear you, sir! Well now, this is a surprise. I did not know that you could use your powers to speak at a distance. And I can see you! That is different than the spells that we use to connect with other people.”
Magnus smiled at him.
“That is because this is not a spell,” he explained. “I asked the spirits for their aid and they lent me their strength. I do not cast spells the way that you and other mages do. I use the knowledge of my forefathers to tap into nature's power.”
“I see. Fascinating. Well, how ever you have done it, it is good to finally speak with you.”
“Likewise. I am calling you at the urging of my friend, Crow. He has asked me to tell you that the spirits should be able to grant your request to find the new leader of the forces of Chaos here on Earth. But he wants you to know that it may take some time. He asks that you exercise patience.”
Chao frowned even as he nodded slowly.
“I understand,” he replied. “Of course whoever is leading our enemies would be hidden away somewhere. I am grateful that the spirits are willing to help us.”
“Your expression is at odds with your words, sir,” Magnus observed with the ghost of a smile.
“Is it? Oh. Well, you see, the enemy is trying to gain control of one of our anchors. You know about them?”
“I do.”
“Good. Then you know what a catastrophe it would be should they succeed,” Chao told him. “The goblins and their armies are able to reach us here in Nottinghill and they can reach the elves in Caladur. But the dwarves and their cities are buried deep and are well defended. They are not vulnerable, as we are, and they have a large military force. This person that we are pursuing tried to infiltrate the dwarven palace and failed, so we believe that they will now attempt to seize one of the other anchors. They have already tried to take the one that the elves have installed in their town.”
“Obviously they failed,” Magnus said as he listened intently.
“They did, but just barely. They will try again. And their next target may be Nottinghill Castle. But the evil armies are tightly controlled by whoever leads them. We know next to nothing about their leadership structure, but we do know that, without a leader to rally around, the goblins will revert to their true natures and begin to fight amongst themselves. We have seen that behavior before.”
“So if you cut off the head of the snake, the body will die,” Magnus mused.
“I think of it more like killing the queen of a termite mound. The soldiers and workers will then run around mindlessly, out of control and easily destroyed.”
“Ah yes, that is a better simile,” the shaman agreed. “And I understand the need for urgency. But neither of us can speed up this process. Until the spirits find this leader, your people and the other races will have to defend your anchors against any assaults.”
He looked at Chao sympathetically.
“I wish I had better news, my friend, but I do not.”
“No, you have given me hope,” Chao assured him. “I will pass along your message to the other leaders and we will strengthen the defenses around the anchors until we find our target. Thank you, Magnus, for your efforts.”
The shaman shook his head.
“I have done nothing, Chao,” he replied. “Any gratitude should be directed at Crow and his fellow spirits. I will call you again once I have the information you need. Stay strong, my friend. There is some hope for a better future on this old world, now that all of the mortal races have join forces.”
“Yes, I know,” Chao told him. “And the Fay have joined us as well. That gives me even more hope. But the forces arrayed against us are vast and powerful and we cannot lose sight of that fact.”
Magnus looked at him in surprise.
“The Fay have allied with you? I didn't know that! I am even more hopeful now that we can survive the coming storm.”
“Are you? I did not know that shamans were such optimists,” he joked.
“I'm not, as a rule,” Magnus chuckled. “Perhaps I am just grasping at straws. But we shall see. Tell the others to be patient and hopefully we will speak again soon.”
“I will. And thank you again. Take care, Magnus.”
“You as well, Chao.”
The shaman looked away from the fire and the image burning at its heart instantly disappeared in a puff of smoke.
Magnus looked up at the trees around the small clearing and watched as their shadows danced and jumped in the light of the campfire. The forest was still, but he sensed no dangers close to him and he lay back on his blanket and tried to relax. He had done his part and now they would all have to wait and see what came next. Whatever was happening and whatever was going to happen, he had a feeling that the peaceful life of a wandering shaman that he had enjoyed was about to come to an end.
Chapter 19
The world was filled with life of every size, shape and kind. From the deepest reaches of the oceans to the highest, coldest and most barren mountain top, life existed in some form or another.
And in the dank shadows of an old, abandoned nuclear silo in the Mohave Desert, a tiny spider wove her little webs hoping to snare whatever prey might stumble into them in the darkness.
She was as small as a gnat and her body was translucent, invisible to any insects that might become entangled in her webs. She also remained unseen to the small group of dark-robed figures who stood in a circle around a glowing red orb, chanting in unison.
Their faces were hidden, but their guttural voices and harsh language easily identified them as goblins. The handful of mages were facing the orb that floated at eye level, its crimson light the color of fresh blood.
The orb began to pulse slowly, its red light rhythmically flashing like a heartbeat.
In response, the tone of the chanting became more urgent and more pleading. And in the middle of the unintelligible language of the goblins, one word was repeated over and over again: Cathulos.
The tiny spider watched the proceedings blankly. She had no interest in what was happening and had no real intelligence to process the ceremony. But far away in the realm of the spirits, a being who did know what the small arachnid was seeing watched the rite through her eyes, absorbing every detail.
“What do you see, Spider?” a voice asked from the formless ether.
The immense form of the mother of spiders snapped her fangs angrily.
“Evil,” she hissed. “A gathering of evil. They are summoning someone. Be patient and let me watch.”
In the darkened silo, the rusted metal and concrete walls dripped with moisture. The air was thick with the stench of rot and decay and the floor was covered with slimy fungus.
The tiny spider sat safely in the middle of her web high up on the wall, immobile as her mistress watched the proceedings through her eyes.
The red orb pulsed faster and faster and the robed mages chanted ever more frantically, finally just repeating the same thing over and over again.
“Cathulos! Cathulos! Cathulos!” they called, their deep voices echoing throughout the silo.
Finally the orb's pulses became so rapid that it simply blazed with red light. And then it shattered into pieces and an explosion of crimson fire blew the supplicants off of their feet.
The spider did not move. With its keen eyesight, it saw a tall figure appear in the midst of the blast. It was wearing a black robe similar to the ones worn by the goblins who were slowly getting to their feet, but the newcomer was much taller and slimmer than they were and obviously not one of them.
“I am here,” the stranger said, speaking in the Common tongue instead of the harsh language of the goblins.
“Ah, it is a female,” Spider said. “Interesting. The goblins do not allow their females to hold positions of power. This must be someone very special.”
The goblins were groveling at the stranger's feet, whispering their adoration for her, and she chuckled coldly at their utter subservience.
“Enough!” she exclaimed haughtily. “I have spoken with my masters. They have deigned to give you more assistance, so I have been sent back. They were disappointed in your attempt to take control of the elves' transportation device. You underestimated them and their dwarven allies. In fact, I was almost attacked by those nasty little faeries. What were they even doing there? It is unacceptable!”
“Forgive us, great one,” one of the mages whined, with his head to the ground. “We thought that with so few numbers, the elves would be easily overwhelmed and...”
“Silence!” the stranger cried. “No excuses! You must do better. My masters want the mortal races utterly destroyed, fools. They will accept nothing less.”
She pushed her hood back, exposing her head and, in the spirit realm, the mistress of spiders gasped.
“What is it?” she was asked.
“Her face. It is so strange. She has no hair and her skin is covered with cracks that glow, as if her core is made of lava. And her eyes are red pools, the color of spilled blood. I have never seen such a creature before.”
“Some special servant of the dark ones?”
“Undoubtedly. Now be silent and let me listen.”
“The lords of Chaos created your miserable race,” the envoy told the fawning goblins. “Never forget that. They brought you back to this world to conquer it, not to waste time fighting amongst yourselves for dominance”
“But, great Cathulos, we aren't...”
The woman looked down at the speaker and closed her fist. Her hand blazed with bloody fire and the goblin burst into flames.
The mage screamed in agony and leaped to his feet. He ran away with his robes ablaze, but only took a few steps before he collapsed and his body lay twitching on the damp floor as it sizzled and smoked.
“You are all expendable,” Cathulos told the others, all of whom were quaking in fear. “You will do what you are told or you will die. Do you understand?”
“Yes, great Cathulos,” the remaining mages mumbled.
“Good. Obviously the dirt eaters have strengthened their protections around their device. Kingstone is almost impenetrable now, which means we need to either seize the devices that the humans or the elves have, or we must destroy them.”
“D...destroy them, great one?” one of the mages asked meekly. “But do you not want to use them to transport our troops to the dwarves' underground city?”
“Ideally, yes. But if we destroy them, then the humans and the elves can be dealt with before the dirt eaters can send their forces to aid them. After the two surface dwelling races are gone, we can focus all of our efforts on defeating those disgusting dwarves. The goblin hordes will be able to overwhelm them by sheer numbers alone. And even if that battle takes a year or more, well, my masters have waited this long. A little more time will not matter to them, as long as it is time well spent.”
She glared at the mages.
“But they must see some results and they must see them soon. Understood?”
“Yes, great one.”
“Go then. I will travel to your main settlement and confer with your leaders. We will formulate a plan and lay waste to the human castle and the elven town. That will please me and my masters as well.”
The mages stood up and bowed to the envoy. She waved them away and the four remaining goblins scurried off.
The tiny spider watched as Cathulos walked over to the glowing embers that were the remains of the mage she had immolated. The strange woman bent down and picked up a handful of ashes. She laughed coldly and flung the ashes into the air. As they rained down on her, her body was engulfed in flames and she disappeared in a pillar of smoke.
“I was correct,” the mother of spiders hissed. “She is a representative of the Chaos lords. A conduit for their will.”
“What is she planning?”
“What you might expect. She wants those anchors. And if she cannot take control of them, she means to destroy them.”
The ether was silent for a moment.
“A sound strategy,” a voice replied. “If the dwarves cannot quickly send their forces in defense of the humans and the elves, the dark armies could wipe out both races before help arrived. Do you know where that reprehensible creature is now?”
“Yes. She has gone to converse with the goblin leaders in their main encampment. Do you know where that is?”
“It is a vast underground hive located in a land that the humans once called Russia.”
“Then go back to your shaman, Crow, and give him the information he seeks. We will see what happens after that. I hold out little hope for his people, but I cannot foresee the future. Perhaps I am wrong.”
“I hope you are, Spider,” Crow replied. “This shaman is the last of his kind and a true child of the spirits. I would see him live a long life.”
“We are sworn not to interfere in mortal affairs, Crow,” Spider reminded him.
The unseen father of crows chuckled.
“I have sworn no such thing, Spider. Neither have many of the others. I know that you have stood apart from their many conflicts in the past, but if the world is taken over by the dark ones, what will be left for us? I will watch the war that is coming from a distance, for now, but I make no promises of non-interference. And do not underestimate Magnus and the humans. They have not survived this long by luck alone.”
“Perhaps not, but numbers speak for themselves and the goblin forces are vast, while those of the mortals are not.”
“Yes, well...”
Crow's presence faded away and Spider severed her connection with the tiny spider sitting alone in her dark web.
“Hunt well, little one,” she whispered as she pulled away from the little arachnid. “Hunt and grow strong. Life belongs to the fierce, not the meek. Perhaps the mortals will remember that lesson in time to save themselves. We shall see.”
Tamara, Sebastian and Chao were standing in the anchor's enclosure, watching the pillar glowing softly. It was late and the castle grounds were very quiet. Above the trio, the new domed roof reflected the torch light from below.
Chao looked up and nodded with satisfaction.
“It looks good,” he commented. “At least the anchor isn't vulnerable from an aerial attack now.”
Tamara glanced at the roof and smiled.
“Yes. Thomas and his masons did an amazing job in a very short time. The anchor is now as secure as we can make it.”
She looked around the large space and a dozen pairs of dwarven eyes stared back at her. Warriors sent to Nottinghill by Shandon Ironhand were stationed along the inside wall of the enclosure, guarding the precious link between the castle and Kingstone.
The torches set in brackets on the wall every few paces reflected off of the heavy armor and keen axes of the dwarves and Tamara looked at her brother and Chao.
“I am still absorbing the fact that we now have dwarves stationed permanently in Nottinghill,” she said softly. “This group in here and the others out in the courtyard, along with the squad up on the ramparts, makes me feel a damned sight more secure than I did just a few days ago.”
Sebastian grinned at his sister. His dark green robe was clean and pressed and, for a change, he had tied back his long hair and looked neat and presentable.
“I like them,” he told her. “I've talked to a few of them, when they are off duty, of course, and they're a jolly bunch. They laugh and curse and love their ale. And they are incredibly loyal to their king and to their duty. An admirable people.”
Tamara gave him a withering look.
“Of course you like anyone who drinks,” she replied dismissively. “But you are right about their loyalty. Now, Chao, how long do you think we'll have to wait for our visitor to arrive?”
The slight man was smiling gently at the siblings, enjoying their banter as usual.
“It should be any time now,” he told Tamara. “He won't be using the anchor, of course, but he wanted to appear in an open area where there was no chance of colliding with any people or obstacles. After all, he has never been to the castle before.”
“I appreciate his concern for others,” Tamara said. “I am looking forward to meeting him but, frankly, I am a little intimidated by the idea as well.”
Sebastian stared at his sister in surprise.
“Intimidated? You? Well, this is a first. Why would you feel that way?”
Tamara looked around the enclosure vaguely.
“Because he is different from anyone I've ever met before. I've known mages, witches, a wizard, even an elven scryer now. Hell, we've spoken to dragons in the past. But this man? To my knowledge, he is unique.”
Chao made an abrupt gesture and she stopped speaking.
“I think he is coming,” he said softly. “You did warn the dwarves about his arrival, didn't you? If they should attack him by mistake...”
“I informed them before you got here,” Sebastian assured him. “They are aware that he is coming.”
In the center of the large space, stone dust rose from the ground and began to swirl as if a small tornado was forming. Every dwarven warrior focused their attention on the disturbance, but none of them moved from their posts.
Chao looked relieved by their response and he and the mages watched as the twisting winds gathered speed.
As the funnel of wind rose to the height of a man, the sound of many wings flapping together echoed around the enclosure. Harsh croaks and calls assaulted the ears of those observing the disturbance and suddenly a cloud of black winged shapes appeared in the middle of the room. They spun and flapped in a dizzying display and then vanished. In their place stood a man.
His long braided hair hung down his back, feathers woven into its length. His buckskin clothing was decorated with bead work and his square jaw and aquiline nose conveyed a dignity and calm demeanor that was at odds with his violent entrance.
Chao smiled widely and walked forward to offer his hand to the newcomer.
