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457 lines
24 KiB
HTML
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<head>
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<title>The Shadowmaster - Chapter 15</title>
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<link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="imperaWeb.css"/>
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<h1>15</h1>
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<p>
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Megrin walked slowly through the torchlit chamber. All of her fine-honed senses probed ahead and around her.
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</p>
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<p>
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This place was awash with <em>power.</em>
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</p>
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<p>
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The very air was thick with it. It tingled and itched on her skin like St Elmo's fire before a lightning storm. The walls were old and crumbling. Cracks
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laced up like withered ivy. Old swords, rusted and pitted, hung from hooks.
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</p>
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<p>
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It looked old, and it felt old. But Megrin knew all was illusion here. Nothing was as it seemed. Nothing at all.
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</p>
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<p>
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She stopped in the centre of the hall and looked down at the floor, aware that the doorway she had come through was gone, as if it had never been. Behind
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her the wall was blank and solid.
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</p>
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<p>
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At her feet a circular design had been cut into the stones, a broad ring, etched into twenty one segments, each of which bearing words and symbols in an
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ancient language that few on Uaine knew.
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</p>
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<p>
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She understood immediately that these were the symbols that were written in the copperplates, the great spell that had brought peace, prosperity and
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protection to Uaine down the generations. Each of the copperplate spells had been powerful in its own right. Together, carefully assembled in the proper
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order, the sum was greater than the whole….a binding powerful enough to affect, and protect, the whole of Uaine.
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</p>
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<p>
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Now, as she neared that source of power, she could feel it pressing down on her.
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</p>
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<p>
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But this new binding was not the blessing of old.
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</p>
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<p>
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This was something much darker.
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</p>
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<p>
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She took two steps forward and stood in the centre of the carved circle. It was just stone, no power here, or if there ever was, it had faded with the
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ages. She closed her eyes and when she did, she heard the sound of laughter, low and mocking, some way distant. Under her feet, the flagstones shifted with
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her weight.
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</p>
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<p>
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Megrin looked down and saw thin cracks spiderwebbing away from her and the floor in the circle began to shale and crumble. It felt as if she was standing
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on sand undermined by a tide and she sensed her feet sink a little into it.
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</p>
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<p>
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The sound of gleeful laughter came again, a low, jeering chuckle. It sounded unearthly and profoundly wicked.
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</p>
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<p>
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Yet beyond that, so faint it was a whisper in her mind, she heard a child's voice, a soft sound that reached into her heart and squeezed it gently. She
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didn't know why it did.
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</p>
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<p>
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She stamped her staff down, once, twice, felt it bite into stone turned to powder. She sank a little further, feeling the grains clog her sandals, hissing
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as it sucked at her. In mere seconds she was knee-deep and sinking deeper.
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</p>
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<p>
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"Enough," she said. Her staff wreathed itself in light, dimmed, brightened again and she raised one foot against the pull, and when she placed it down
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again, it felt a little more solid.
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</p>
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<p>
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"Enough!" This time louder, more commanding. She took another step, ignoring the drag that tried to trip her, and then another, while the sandy grains
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congealed and solidified until by the time she reached the edge of the circle, she was standing on solid stone once more.
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</p>
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<p>
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"Childish games," she muttered under her breath. "What next, I wonder?"
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</p>
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<p>
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A metallic clang rang out. She turned and saw one of the swords jangling on the wall, its rusty blade waggling as if knocked by an invisible hand. More
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than that, she felt a <em>change</em> in the atmosphere, and instinctively pulled her staff close, held it with both hands.
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</p>
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<p>
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All of the old weapons began to swing and jangle, setting up a cacophony of tuneless bells.
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</p>
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<p>
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The long sword came spinning off the wall, whoop-whoop-<em>whoop</em> as if thrown by that same invisible hand. Before she could move, another flew off its
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hook, and another, and another.
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</p>
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<p>
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They came whirring at her, from all angles, blurring as they flew.
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</p>
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<p>
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Illusion, maybe, she thought, but some illusions could be made <em>real. </em>
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</p>
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<p>
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In the last split second, before the first sword spun in at neck height, its rusty blade still sharp enough to take her head clean off, she raised the
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staff high.
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</p>
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<p>
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The sword shattered into a thousand sparks of white-hot metal that trailed blue smoke as they fell in a searing shower.
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</p>
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<p>
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Megrin kept her stance, eyes closed in total concentration and felt her power rive through the staff.
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</p>
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<p>
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The longsword stopped dead in the air as if it had hit a barrier and fragmented into rusty shrapnel that shot high and low and left pock-marks on the
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walls. She turned slowly, almost serenely, murmurring in the old tongue as the ancient blades whirled in to smash and shatter against a force too strong
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even for iron to breach.
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</p>
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<p>
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Pieces of metal, shards and little solidified drops of iron were scattered all across the floor.
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</p>
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<p>
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Megrin shook her head, more irritated than anything else.
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</p>
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<p>
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"A cheap trick," she muttered. "The village <em>Grisan </em> could have done better."
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</p>
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<p>
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But she knew this was just the beginning of a game to be played out in this dismal place. She also knew it was a dangerous game, and one that she might not
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survive, because she was up against a power equal to her own, and perhaps now stronger. And darker.
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</p>
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<p>
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For an instant, she regretted bringing those three children here to the nightmare that was Bodron's holdgard.
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</p>
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<p>
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Yet all down the years, she had known they would come, and known it would come to this. What was written in the cast runes could not be unwritten.
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</p>
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<p>
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Slowly she lowered her staff until it touched the floor again. Her knuckles were white as she gripped it tight.
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</p>
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<p>
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She closed her eyes and began to speak in the old tongue, a powerful incantation of summoning.
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</p>
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<p>
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When it was finished, she opened her eyes and started straight ahead.
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</p>
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<p>
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"Now, Bodron, brother of mine…..come!"
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</p>
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<p>
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Somewhere distant, heavy footfalls sent vibrations through the floor, strong enough for her to feel.
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</p>
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<p>
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And she heard them approach…doom…<em>doom…DOOM.</em>
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</p>
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<p class="break">
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<em>***</em>
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</p>
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<p>
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Kerry ran. He couldn't help it. The revellers at the table had <em>changed</em>. In the blink of an eye, the eyes that had turned towards him were pale and
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clouded, set in the bloated faces of the dead men he had seen when they stumbled through the slaughterfield of Temair.
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</p>
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<p>
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The stench of rotten meat was so thick on the air he began to gag.
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</p>
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<p>
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And then those wings had spread out on either side of the high-backed chair while the dead things gobbled and tore at raw flesh.
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</p>
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<p>
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Great black feathered wings unfolded with a schick-<em>schick</em> sound until they stretched out on either side, and then, its head began to turn. All he
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saw was the shiny curve of a huge beak as it began to edge round the chair and he got a glimpse of a crater of an eye socket.
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</p>
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<p>
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<em>Roak,</em>
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his mind jabbered, even if the word couldn't get past his dry throat. The carrion bird of Temair, the kind that had hounded them from the slaughterfield
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and attacked them time and again, under the command of the dread Morrigan.
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</p>
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<p>
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Primitive fear made him run. He snatched Corriwen's arm and dragged her away, pushing her ahead of him. She went through the door and vanished. His own
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momentum carried him out doorway and without warning the floor dropped away at a mad angle.
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</p>
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<p>
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He went down the slope, unable to stop or even slow himself as the floor curved down like a funnel towards shadows. Behind him, a rasping <em>caw</em>
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echoed in his ears and sent another shiver down his spine. He tripped, lost his balance and tumbled forward to land heavily on his shoulders with such a
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jolt that all his breath was punched out. He lay in pain, unable to catch his breath, while the dark all around him was spangled with little purple sparks
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that slowly faded.
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</p>
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<p>
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Finally Kerry got himself to his hands and knees, whooping in great gulps until the dizziness passed and then he was able to groan at the pain in his back
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and shoulder. He was kneeling on damp earth in a space not much wider than his shoulders. A faint light showed him roots poking through overhead, and a
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mass of cobwebs stretched like sails from floor to ceiling. Something with many legs scuttled over his fingers and he snatched them back.
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</p>
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<p>
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Guilt washed over him. He had left Jack and somehow he lost Corriwen, and that was worse, much worse than finding himself in this hole in the ground. He
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balled his hands into fists and pressed them against his temples in anger and frustration until reason began to take hold again.
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</p>
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<p>
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He had to find a way out of here and find them both. They needed him - that he was sure of.
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</p>
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<p>
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Kerry drew the short sword and began to slash his way through the clinging cobwebs, ignoring the things that scuttled around his feet, not knowing where he
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was going, but relieved to be simply <em>going.</em>
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</p>
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<p>
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Then a voice spoke in his ear making him jump so suddenly his head cracked off a gnarled root above and almost floored him.
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</p>
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<p>
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<em>Water comes…water goes…water rises…water flows…</em>
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it was almost a sing-song.
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</p>
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<p>
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He twisted round, trying to find the source.
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</p>
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<p>
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But then he heard something else and his heart turned to stone.
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</p>
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<p>
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It was the sound of running water. It was far off and distant and at first he thought the tunnel might lead to open air beside a river with a waterfall.
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</p>
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<p>
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But there was something in that sound, something awfully familiar.
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</p>
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<p>
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<em>Not a waterfall….</em>
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</p>
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<p>
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In an instant, he was back in the darkness under the Morrigan's black barrow on Temair, listening to the terrible roar of water rushing towards him.
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</p>
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<p>
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"Oh Jeez!"
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</p>
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<p>
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Then he felt the walls shudder and a sudden punch of compressed air against his back as the crash of water soared to a crescendo.
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</p>
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<p>
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And he was running, running in the dark, slashing through the cobwebs hardly aware of the walls blurring past him and the roots slapping his head. Behind
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him, the flood snarled and bellowed, gaining on him.
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</p>
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<p class="break">
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***
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</p>
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<p>
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Corriwen tumbled through the doorway. Kerry had snagged her sleeve and swung her ahead of him while the image of the thing in the high chair was still
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burned into her mind.
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</p>
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<p>
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A peeling skull, mad eyes rolling in its sockets…<em>impossible</em>! But something in that glare had pierced to her soul with such foul intensity
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that she almost fainted.
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</p>
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<p>
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The room had tilted. Then Kerry had pushed her ahead of him and she'd tumbled through the doorway, spinning dizzily, flying, heels over head in a grey
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nothingness.
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</p>
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<p>
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Her stomach heaved and she felt nausea rise up to her throat as she flailed for balance. Miraculously, she landed on her feet and then she stumbled forward
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and stopped, heart thudding.
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</p>
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<p>
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It took her a few seconds to realise that the castle walls were gone; that there was no doorway, no slope, nothing at all. Nothing but a pearly mist that
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spread out around her in every direction.
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</p>
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<p>
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She stood still, trying to take it in, to make some sense of it, to find some object she could focus her eyes on, but there was nothing but a featureless
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sea of grey. It stretched to the far horizon - if there was a horizon - and Corriwen was not even sure of that.
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</p>
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<p>
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There was no sound except her own breathing and the beat of her heart. She took a step forward, feeling a spongy surface<em> </em>under her foot. If she
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made any noise, it was damped to silence by the thick mist.
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</p>
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<p>
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A sudden sense of isolation swamped her in this emptiness and awful silence.
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</p>
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<p>
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Jack Flint and Kerry Malone were not here. She couldn't <em>sense</em> them, as she had always been able to do before when she was in danger. Even as a
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prisoner in Eirinn she had been sure in the knowledge that they would come for her. Something in her heart had told her they would come, and it had been
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right.
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</p>
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<p>
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<em>But how could they find her here? </em>
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</p>
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<p>
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Corriwen began to walk, picking any direction because they were all the same. She trudged on, for what might have been hours, trying to find something,
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anything in the emptiness. The mist curled around her legs, but she was scared to stop and unable to sit and rest because then the mist would be over her
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head and she did not want that, not at all.
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</p>
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<p>
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The further she walked, the more she came to fear that she could be stuck in this grey place, alone, forever.
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</p>
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<p>
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Some time later, a shiver down her spine told her that she was not alone.
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</p>
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<p>
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Corriwen heard it, but she couldn't see it, and that was worst of all.
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</p>
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<p>
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The mist had thickened and deepened and was now up to her waist. She tried to reach her mind out to Jack and Kerry, but there was no sense of any contact.
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</p>
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<p>
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Then, in the thick silence, she heard a sound, a low growl.
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</p>
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<p>
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She turned in a full circle, spine tingling, trying to locate it, but there was nothing to be seen in the sea of grey. Both her knives were out and ready.
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</p>
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<p>
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The growl became a deep guttural grunt, too much like the bristleback boars the Scree ogres had sent to hunt her through the forests of Temair, but it was
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more savage than that. All she heard in it was an slavering hunger.
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</p>
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<p>
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She backed away, hoping she backed in the right direction, then turned and began to run, desperately searching for somewhere to hide.
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</p>
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<p>
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The unseen thing could be anywhere at all. The mist hid everything below waist level and she felt like a swimmer in dangerous water, waiting for unseen
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jaws to open.
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</p>
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<p>
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The creature grunted again, and she knew it has sensed her, smelt her perhaps. Now it was coming for her.
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</p>
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<p>
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Panic swelled and she tried to force it down. Corriwen veered to the left, then to the right, trying to shake off her pursuer, but no matter how she
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turned, it was always within earshot. The mist did little to muffle that hungry growl. Now it was loud, much too loud and she knew that it would soon be on
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her and she would be fighting for her life.
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</p>
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<p class="break">
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***
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</p>
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<p>
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In the middle of the great chamber, the air writhed, and grey smoke began to thicken and solidify until it became a gauzy staircase that led straight
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ahead, up and up until it vanished in the distance.
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</p>
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<p>
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The footsteps grew steadily louder. Megrin felt her heart quicken and commanded it to slow. This was time for resolve, not apprehension.
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</p>
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<p>
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A shape appeared high on the staircase.
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</p>
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<p>
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He stopped, a man in a black cowl which hid his eyes and shadowed his face.
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</p>
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<p>
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<em>Bodron.</em>
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</p>
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<p>
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His breath was a slow, dry rasp as he descended. Bony knuckles tightened on a staff made of black wood. He raised his head and she looked into eyes which
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seemed devoid of any humanity.
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</p>
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<p>
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Those eyes were not her brother's eyes as she remembered them. They stared out from some hell where no light ever reached.
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</p>
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<p>
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"Megrin," Bodron spoke. Behind him, the strange staircase began to shimmer into the vapour from which it had emerged and it slowly vanished.
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</p>
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<p>
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"Bodron…<em>brother.</em>" She felt as if her throat was desert-dry. "It has been a long time…too long to be alone in this place."
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</p>
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<p>
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"So you pay a visit. How….sisterly. And what message have the <em>Geasan-eril</em> sent you to deliver?"
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</p>
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<p>
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The eyes fixed her with a black stare. His face was bloodless as marble and lined with deep creases. How, she wondered, did he know she had been sent?
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</p>
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<p>
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As if he could read her thoughts Bodron spoke again. "I have eyes in the night. They keep me well informed. So what does the council of spellbinders want
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of me?"
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</p>
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<p>
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"They want you to put an end to this darkness. And they require you to give up the Copperplates."
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</p>
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<p>
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Bodron's sudden laugh echoed all round the chamber.
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</p>
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<p>
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"I am on the far edge of Uaine here, far from the concerns of your spellbinders. Why should they interfere with my work?"
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</p>
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<p>
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"Because your…<em>work</em> is spreading out over the summerland. Don't you know what is happening throughout Uaine? The shadow from this place is
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spreading like disease. Nightshades are loose in the dark, infesting field and forest, town and village."
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</p>
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<p>
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"Nightshades? Mere shadows. Surely your council fears no shadow."
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</p>
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<p>
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"It is what power brought them to Uaine that concerns us. What dark power have you raised from beneath and brought among us? The Copperplates have been
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turned to evil purpose. We shall have them, and we shall try to undo what damage you have wrought. Close the nether-gate you have unlocked."
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</p>
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<p>
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Bodron was silent for a moment. Then he chuckled, a low, cold sound that was so unlike the Bodron she had known as a child.
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</p>
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<p>
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"I spent a lifetime searching for these talismans," he finally said. "But I found them. They are <em>mine.</em>"
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</p>
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<p>
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"Not yours, brother. They belong to Uaine and always have, since the first great spellbinding."
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</p>
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<p>
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"Not great enough, obviously," he sneered. "Since I alone was able to gather them all and achieve for myself what took one and twenty of the greatest <em>Geasan.</em>"
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</p>
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<p>
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"Always the ambitious one. You were indeed a great Spellbinder, Bodron. Why would you want more, when the power is a sacred gift from the Sky Queen?"
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</p>
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<p>
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"Your Sky Queen is long gone from the worlds. She wields no power here. There are others as powerful as she ever was."
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</p>
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<p>
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"But why would you want to interfere with the good of Uaine?"
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</p>
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<p>
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"What do I care for Uaine? I have more pressing matters. " He paused, , and then, his voice changed, just enough to give Megrin the merest hint of the
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person that used to be her brother. "…I…<em>needed</em> the Copperplates."
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</p>
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<p>
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Bodron's mouth snapped shut, as if he wanted to bite back the words. His frame shook violently and he doubled over. He gasped as if in pain and then slowly
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unfolded until he was standing straight again, eyes once more hidden by the cowl.
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</p>
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<p>
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"Begone…witch!" It came out in a deep, beastly growl, and a cold shudder ran through Megrin. She bent forward, trying to see into those hidden eyes.
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He raised his head. Their eyes met and she recoiled as if she'd been struck.
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</p>
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<p>
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"You are not Bodron," she cried. "Who are you? <em>What </em>are you?"
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</p>
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<p>
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"I am your brother as ever was." The voice came from the shadows, it echoed as if there was more than one speaker. "And yet I am <em>more.</em>"
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</p>
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<p>
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"Not…my…. brother," she repeated. Her own voice sounded strangled and she felt her throat constrict as if an icy hand had clamped on her neck.
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A cold oozed through her and as the pressure on her throat tightened, her vision began to blur and waver.
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</p>
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<p>
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Bodron had not moved, but somehow he had reached out to her. She closed her eyes and fought back against the dark power, concentrating on the invisible
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stranglehold. She groaned with the effort, sagging to her knees. Then the pressure was gone, and she lurched forward, gasping for air.
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</p>
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<p>
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"Begone," the shadowed figure commanded. For a second Megrin felt compelled to turn away.
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</p>
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<p>
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She forced herself to resist. "Not without the Copperplates."
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</p>
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<p>
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Bodron laughed again, a cacophony of voices overlapping one another.
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</p>
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<p>
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"Take them," he rumbled. "If your power is equal to mine. And know this: I already have what you brought me."
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</p>
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<p>
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It raised the black staff and described a circle in the air. Within it, a hazy image slowly came to focus.
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</p>
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<p>
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And she saw Jack Flint painfully pull himself upright.
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</p>
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<p>
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The heartstone dangled clearly from the open neck of his tunic.
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</p>
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</div>
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</div>
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</body>
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</html>
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