Shadowed by Demons, Book 3 of the Death Wizard Chronicles (30 page)

TORG HAD NOT told them the full extent of his confusion. Even from great distances, he usually could surmise the makeup of an army. But the force that approached from the east produced signs unlike he had ever encountered, kicking up a cloud of dust even thicker than a division of armored infantry. Despite their size, mountain wolves treaded lightly, barely leaving tracks of any kind—as did Mogols. This didn’t mean that a few wolves and savages might not be among this new enemy, but there had to be other things, as well—large, clumsy, or both. Torg could think of only three possibilities: trolls, elephants, or giants. None of these options were good.

To make matters worse, other evils besides the druids lurked to the west within Dhutanga, meaning they were sandwiched between dangers. Vampires, ghouls, goblins, and—worst of all—great apes almost as large as snow giants hunted along the forest’s perimeter.

Torg took the lead, trotting out of the trees into the gap’s open plains and establishing a strong pace—not fast by Tugarian standards, but faster than the approaching army was proceeding—and then turned to see how well everyone was doing. The Daasa kept up easily, chasing after him on all fours. Laylah, Elu, Ugga, and Bonny also stayed close. Even Bard seemed able, though he still was weaker than normal. But Lucius was not a man built to run, and Rathburt
 . . .
well
 . . .
was Rathburt. The slump-shouldered Death-Knower immediately started whining about his sore legs and bad back.

Torg slowed their pace to a fast walk. Lucius did fine after that, though his Mogol war club was weighing him down. But Rathburt continued to struggle. Still, as far as Torg could tell, the mysterious army was not gaining on them.

A voice like, and yet not like, his own whispered inside Torg’s mind.
Shouldn’t you see for yourself what follows you
? As he mused over this, it began to make sense. It
would
be safer—for all of them—if they went back and had a look. Not they. YOU. Go by yourself. That way no one will slow you down.

“Do you know this land?” Torg said to Elu in an odd-sounding voice, startling the Svakaran.

“Elu has been here once or twice, but it was long ago. He remembers little.”

“And I’ve never been farther west than Duccarita,” Lucius said.

“I has been there, but I was different then, and I doesn’t remember,” Ugga said.

“I was just a boy when I was last there, and it was even longer ago than when Elu was here,” Bard said.

Even Bonny’s mastery of the terrain extended only a few leagues outside of the City of Thieves.

Then, as a group they turned to Rathburt, who instantly became defensive.

“All right, all right, I’ve been this way before, a couple of centuries ago. But who cares, Torgon? You’re our guide, not me. I’m sure you’ve entered Dhutanga a million times
 . . .
a
billion.
You were probably there before there were
trees
.”

Torg ignored Rathburt’s sarcasm. “For a brief time, I cannot be your guide,” he said in a sober tone. “I’ve decided to back-track and find out what it is that follows us.”

“Torg, what are you saying?” Laylah cried out. “It’s far too dangerous.”

“From here on out, everything will be dangerous, but this is not about my taking unnecessary risks. If I go alone, it will be easier, and safer.”

Elu made an angry face.

“As good as you are, there are times I prefer to act alone,” Torg said to the Svakaran. “Rathburt, I need you to lead everyone into Dhutanga. At first, the trees will be sparse and the ground beneath them easy to traverse. Proceed no farther than a league into the forest, and then veer to the south. When the sun is overhead, stop just long enough to eat. If all goes well, I will have returned to you by then.”

Despite the exertion of walking, Laylah’s face had gone pale. But she didn’t protest, seeming to recognize that Torg’s mind was made up.

Of course, Rathburt was as riled as ever. “Torgon, this is not the time for your shenanigans. I’m no leader, and you know it. We need you here with us, not off gallivanting in the wrong direction. What happens if we’re attacked while you’re gone?”

“Lead them to Dhutanga, Rathburt,” Torg said, with more anger than was necessary.

Carrying the Silver Sword in a scabbard strapped to his back, Torg then swung about and started toward the enemy. He could feel Laylah’s eyes for a long time. Somehow the Daasa knew not to follow.

ON THE SAME day that Torg and his companions left the City of Thieves, three dracools circled lazily above the open area of the forest, searching for a place to land. Tens of thousands of druids clogged the mile-wide clearing, which was anchored in its center by a single tree taller than any other on Triken—four hundred and fifty cubits it stood, and absurdly wide at its base. The druids seemed drawn to its magnificence like shamans to a prayer pole.

Finally the dracools landed on branches near the top of the enormous tree.

“We are not overly fond of the wood-eaters,” one of the dracools said to Jākita-Abhinno, now in her beautiful state. “They are as stupid as sheep. But they are also dangerous, especially when there are so many. You and the vampire can deal with them, if you feel so bold.”

Urbana was incensed. “This is not acceptable, dracool! How do you expect us to get down from here? Neither of us are monkeys
 . . .
and neither of us can fly. Stop being such cowards and take us to the ground.”

But the dracools only shrugged their wings. “We were told to take you here—and bring you and the sorceress back when the time came—but nothing more,” said the second dracool, in a raspy voice. “We are not your slaves. Only the sorcerer has the strength to command us. But out of courtesy, the three of us will remain nearby. When you are ready, call us
 . . .
and we’ll find you. As for getting down, that will be less of a problem than you think. Behold, the druids come.”

And then the
baby dragons
sprang into the air and soared toward a place they deemed more hospitable.

As soon as the dracools departed, Jākita and Urbana looked down at the druids, who were pressing against the base of the tree in enormous numbers. Their bodies and limbs seemed too long, angular and inflexible for them to be effective climbers, but their methods were successful, nonetheless. Hundreds and then thousands began to stack onto each other’s backs and shoulders, forming a living ladder that quickly grew in height. As the druids came nearer, the peculiar humming sound intensified, causing the tree to shiver. In a matter of moments, the druids had reached the witch and the vampire.

Jākita and Urbana were lifted off the branch and carried to the ground, handed from druid to druid with surprising gracefulness. As Jākita expected, the druids had no desire to harm this pair. Their leader anxiously awaited their arrival.

At the base of the tree, a dozen druids half again as large as any of the rest, guarded a cavernous opening. When Jākita and the vampire stepped forward, the guards spread apart, beckoning them to enter the hollow trunk.

“She is here?” Urbana said. “It seems too obvious a place for her to hide.”

“She doesn’t care about obvious,” Jākita responded. “She caressss only about revenge—as do I. Her strength has grown beyond the need to hiiiide. Soon you will see for yourself.”

LESS THAN A league from the clearing, the dracools lighted on the upper branches of a black tree and immediately began to scan their surroundings for food. Dracools are as quick and athletic as mountain eagles, and individuals are capable of killing prey as large as an elephant, though they prefer smaller quarry such as Buffelo, deer, and the occasional human. Only a limited variety of animals thrived in the bowels of Dhutanga, but there were enough to provide three dracools with a tasty meal. After their long flight from Avici, they were hungry.

Ravens were barely a mouthful for a hungry dracool, and they were too quick and wily to make the chase worthwhile. So the
baby dragons
ignored the one that landed nearby, though even if they had attacked or tried to flee, it would have made no difference.

“
Namuci
!”

Already dead, the dracools fell from the tree, crashed through the canopy, and smote the ground with their ruin.

THE INSIDE OF the hollow tree was as immense as a banquet hall, though not nearly as lavish. The shadowy air reeked of sewage-like mist. But rather than be repulsed, Jākita felt comfortable in this foul place. When she turned to look at Urbana, she saw that the vampire also seemed pleased. The presence that resided inside the tree was worthy of their worship.

They bowed before the queen of the druids, who was the daughter of the previous queen that The Torgon had slain more than eight centuries before. Though she was young and her reign short in comparison to her predecessor’s, the new queen had surpassed her mother in size, scope, and power. An all-consuming hatred of the one called
Maranavidu
(Death-Knower) had fueled her rapid ascendancy.

Several days after her mother’s gruesome murder, the daughter had emerged from the hidden birthing chambers to take control of her kind. By then, most of the druids had wandered into the depths of the forest and died. Only a few hundred survived, just enough to nurture her until she became strong enough to lay eggs of her own. And lay them she did, without rest—one at a time, day after day, month after month, year after year.

Her name was
Kattham Bhunjaka
, though no druid could pronounce it in words. The rise of Invictus had further emboldened her, and now the druids were stronger than they had ever been in their long history. One hundred thousand worshipped her, more than twice the number that had last dared to attack Jivita, home of the horrid white horsemen.

After bowing to
Kattham
, Jākita advanced within an arm’s-length of the pale, throbbing blob, which was broader than a dragon’s torso. Jākita could sense the queen’s immense telepathic power and was relieved it was not directed against her. She knew she could not survive such an assault. Few beings on Triken had that level of strength. But rather than attack her,
Kattham
bathed her with erotic energy, causing Jākita to gasp with pleasure.

“Thank you,
Kattham
, for your warrrrm welcome,” Jākita said. “My companion and I are honored to be in your pressssence.”

Urbana nodded, her bloodshot eyes glazed. “I am at your command,” the vampire said blankly.

Jākita chuckled. “Your greatness overcomes her.”

The druid queen could not vocalize, but her mind more than made up for it. She pummeled Jākita with a series of queries, causing her knees to tremble. When
Kattham
was finished, Jākita did her best to answer, wanting more than anything to please this wondrous being.

“Your ssssenses do not fail you,
Kattham
. The hated
Maranavidu
(Death-Knower) is indeed near Dhutanga, no more than fifty leagues from where you laaaay. He hopes to avoid the forest on his way to Jivita, where he will join the white horsemen and take ssssick delight in the murder of your precioussss offspring.

“But like you, I too despise The Torgon. My wounds are fresher than yourssss, but no less painful. I have come to you to beseech your aid, so that together we might destroy the Death-Knower, once and for all.”

“I am at your command,” the vampire repeated blankly.

Jākita nudged her with her elbow. “Urbana, you’re
embarrassssing
me.”

But the vampire was too enraptured to listen.

Jākita turned back to the druid queen, responding to further questions. “Yes,
Kattham
, I understand and respect your desire to witnessss the Death-Knower’s demise. That would pleasure me, as well. If youuuu will lend me a portion of your druids for just a little while, I will set the stage for The Torgon’s
arrival. I only beg that you allow me to participate in his destruction. You can paralyze him while I perform the slowest and cruelest of tortures. That way, both of ussss will taste the sweetness of revenge. But first I need you to twisssst his mind, from afar. The Daasa’s, too. And I’ll tell you how.”

Jākita endured another blast of psychic power. “Yes,
Kattham
, I understand that the druidssss will soon march on Jivita. Why do I need so many of your brave warriors? I only wish to
ensure
our success. And if my plan succeeds, very few will be harmed. Besides, issssn’t The Torgon’s demise more important than anything else?”

At that moment, the druids guarding the opening began to hum loudly, sounding an alarm. Something else had entered the chamber—unwelcomed. A raven settled on the floor and began to writhe and smoke. In its place, a gray-haired woman appeared, her robes and flesh eerily translucent.

“Jākita, slimiest of sluts,” Vedana screamed. “Have I not warned you many times about the perils of disobedience? How dare you attempt this betrayal! Do you mistake me for a doddering old fool?”

“I am at your command,” Urbana said.

Jākita ignored the vampire. “You have not lisssstened to me, Mother!” she shouted back. “The Torgon entered the ziggurat and killed many of my precioussss sisters. I will not allow it to go unpunished.”

“
You
will not allow it? You are nothing but a witless whore I created for my amusement. It seems the Warlish witches are about to lose another queen. My patience with you has run out.”

As the demon strode forward, Jākita backed up and pressed against the druid queen’s slimy hide.

“Do you think
she
can protect you?” Vedana said. “You underestimate me if you think this worm is my match. Her mind has no power over me.”

In reaction to the demon’s words, the druids sprang to life, rushing into the chamber in large numbers to protect the queen.

Vedana paid them no heed. “The Death-Knower belongs to me. I will not allow him to be harmed until the time is right. You should have listened to me, Jākita.”

The demon raised her gnarled hands above her head. Crimson lightning burst from her fingertips, blasting at Jākita face. In response, Jākita’s flesh glowed like molten gold, absorbing the demon fire with unexpected ease.

Instantly Jākita launched a counter-attack, casting a pair of golden spheres from the palms of her hands that struck Vedana squarely between her breasts, knocking her physical incarnation against the inner wall of the tree.

Amazed, the demon struggled to her feet, her heart pounding visibly within her chest.

Jākita laughed wickedly. “Invictussss protects me, Mother. You cannot harm me. But I can harm
youuuu
!”

Jākita raised her arms to deliver another blow against her creator, but Vedana was too fast. A black hole opened in the wood, and the old woman leapt into it, howling as she disappeared. When the hole closed, the demon was gone.

Jākita turned back to the druid queen, her expression triumphant. “She will trouble ussss no longer,
Kattham.
My powers are beyond her. Shall we retuuuurn to our business?”