Shadowed by Demons, Book 3 of the Death Wizard Chronicles (5 page)

Now Torg knew what many had long suspected. The druids had replenished their numbers—and then some. Jivita was in as much danger from Dhutanga as Nissaya from Avici.

The eagle let out a shrill twitter.

Torg climbed onto its back, and they headed southward, following the winding, frothy course of Cariya. They eventually left the forest behind and flew high over Jivita, where Torg could see a long line of civilians abandoning the White City on its way to the cliffs that lined the Akasa Ocean. The city’s guardians had prepared hidden havens on the rocky coast. Obviously the Jivitans believed war was at hand.

Then the eagle veered to the east and flew along the ancient road called Iddhi-Pada. When they reached Lake Hadaya, Torg could see a Tugar encampment on its shores. The sight filled him with hope.

From there, they sailed over Nissaya. The black knights, some two thousand Tugars, and the rest of the occupants of the immense fortress were hard at work in the fields outside the concentric bulwarks, harvesting lettuce, cabbage, carrots, and turnips in an obvious attempt to further stock their provisions. Instead of leading away from Nissaya, a procession of people, wagons, and pack animals moved ponderously toward the fortress, some already funneling into the first entryway. In addition to its army and citizenry, Nissaya could house, on a temporary basis, more than one hundred thousand within its walls.

The eagle turned northward, soaring over the eastern border of Java and eventually over Avici itself. To avoid Invictus spotting them, the eagle flew higher than a dracool, but even from this great height Torg could recognize the immense stone city and also the tower of Uccheda, which gleamed like a golden spear. With sadness, he saw that the army of Invictus—more than two hundred thousand strong and five leagues from head to tail—had already begun its plodding march down Iddhi-Pada. Torg guessed it would take nearly three weeks for the entire host to journey from Avici to Nissaya.

The eagle soared westward, passing over Lake Ti-ratana and then the snow-covered peaks of Mahaggata before landing on a frozen summit as desolate as Asubha. Crimson smoke drifted from the maw of a cave. Torg knew, without being told, that Bhayatupa lurked within.

They continued on, and for a brief moment a raven accompanied them, squawking and fluttering, but it was unable to match their speed. It dove away and vanished.

Soon they returned to the waterfall, but before landing, the eagle made one last sweep over Duccarita, which lay just a few leagues to the west. Three sides of natural granite bulwarks a thousand cubits tall encased the City of Thieves. The eagle landed on top of one of the walls.

Torg climbed off the eagle’s back and knelt to watch the activity far below. A new batch of slaves had arrived from the west, carried over the ocean by sea-masters who served the pirates. Odd-looking, pink-skinned creatures were being forced to hobble down into roofless pens that offered little protection from the elements.

A familiar voice startled Torg.

“There is help for you there.”

He turned slowly, and what he saw did not surprise him. The eagle had transformed into Jord, whose long white hair swirled in the winds that swept along the battlement of the granite bulwark. She looked beautiful in a white gown conceived of magic.

“Who are you, really?” he said. “
What
are you, really?”

“Have you not already surmised, Torgon?” she replied, her expression momentarily mischievous. But then she grew serious. “I have traveled far and wide. Not long ago, I even visited the snow giants, of whom you are familiar. But as to who or what I am, I am best described—in your comprehension—as a watcher, though some call me Faerie.”

“Why do you watch? And for whom?”

“I am not permitted to elaborate. It must suffice to say that the ascendance of Invictus has raised concerns among my kind.”

“If Invictus worries you so much, why don’t you and your kind destroy him?”

“I cannot. We cannot
 . . .
that’s why we’re concerned.”

“If he’s too great for you, he’s too great for me.”

“Do not underestimate yourself, Torgon,” Jord said, and then to his surprise, she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “I
 . . .
we
 . . .
surpass you in some ways. But our ability to destroy might not be as great.”

“Do I take that as a compliment?”

“You are admired
 . . .
in high circles. You can take
that
as a compliment.”

Torg smiled and then looked down at Duccarita, pointing a finger toward the pink-skinned slaves. “They can help? Tell me how.”

“The slaves are not as weak as they appear. But there is an evil within the city that holds great sway over them, rendering them impotent. Eliminate that evil, and you will have a powerful army at your disposal—with a general already in place.”

“A general?” Torg said, but when he turned back to Jord, the eagle had reappeared and again beckoned him to climb onto its back.

At dusk, they landed at the waterfall just in time to witness a commotion. In addition to the eagle that had remained to guard Torg’s companions, six others were perched in various places near the overhang. Ugga and Bard—their hair, beards, and clothes dripping wet—stood outside the rock shelter and eyed the birds distrustfully. The crossbreed bore his axe and Bard his bow, an arrow nocked in place. Laylah and the rest were a few paces behind.

Torg dismounted and strode toward them. “Desist! These creatures are our friends.”

Rathburt was the first to respond. “Nice of you to drop in, Master Showoff. I’m glad to see you’ve finally chosen to return from your latest round of gallivanting. Did you have fun while you were gone?”

THE RAVEN huddled in the rotting trunk of a dead tree, watching the proceedings with interest. Just a short time ago, she had caught a glimpse of Torg and the Faerie as they flew. Then she’d briefly winked out of the physical world before appearing near the waterfall to await the wizard’s return. From her hidey-hole, Vedana had watched six of the mountain eagles—longtime allies of the Faerie—land on the tumbled boulders and join the one who guarded Laylah and the others.

While the goody-goody wizard talked to his companions, the Faerie had stood off to the side, choosing to remain in the form of a mountain eagle, but not bothering to conceal the unusual color of her eyes. As a fellow shape-shifter, Vedana slyly noticed this faux pas. When Vedana assumed an identity—whether human, animal, or plant—she tried to get it just right, out of pride if nothing else, though she admitted to herself that she hadn’t fully mastered the raven incarnation. Her beak still moved woodenly when she spoke.

The presence of the Faerie made Vedana uneasy. No matter what it called itself—Bhojja, Jord, Sakuna, or a host of other names—it always seemed to cause some sort of trouble. Vedana’s carefully laid plans to dethrone Invictus and crown a new Sun God were anything but certain to succeed. If she made the slightest mistake, her schemes would collapse. To make matters worse, the Faerie kept poking her nose, muzzle, or beak where it didn’t belong.

Though the Faerie had roamed the wilds of Triken even before Bhayatupa was born, Vedana didn’t believe that Jord’s powers were any greater than hers. But her persistence was wearisome, to say the least. Whenever Vedana ventured into the physical world, the Faerie seemed to be there
 . . .
watching intently. Over the eons, Vedana had found this extremely annoying, especially when she had so recently learned that it was the Faerie who had removed her demon poisons from Torg’s body.

When Vedana attempted to pinpoint the source of the Faerie’s magic, the only thing she could discern was a strange kind of buzzing—as if its powers originated from an invisible place beyond even Vedana’s awareness. Still, the Faerie seemed able to tap only small amounts of this mysterious energy, which suited Vedana just fine. One Invictus was enough, thank you very much.

For Vedana’s plan to succeed, several things needed to occur. The most important was making sure that Torg and Laylah remained alive and free. Another was arranging matters in such a way that the armies of Avici, Jivita, Nissaya, and Anna were decimated.

Sigh. It was so difficult to keep everything in order.

Vedana watched the Faerie shift shapes and become the white-haired woman, robes of woven magic covering her body. The bear-man rushed over and hugged her, tears bursting from his beady eyes.

Several times over the past few days, Vedana had attempted to enter the minds of Torg’s companions. As expected, Laylah was far too strong. Unexpectedly, so were the others. But Vedana wasn’t overly concerned. Possession demanded too much energy to make it worthwhile, anyway. Even the obese Kamupadanan innkeeper had put up a respectable fight.

A commotion below caught her attention. Vedana cocked her head and listened.

“Jord, ya have come back,” the bear-man was shouting. “Me love, where have ya been? I has missed ya so much.” And then he dropped to his knees and wailed like a baby.

“I missed ya too,” the handsome one named Bard said. “I loves ya, I does.”

“I’m sorry I left ya for so long,” Jord said, mimicking the dialect of northern folk, which some of the the pirates and slave traders of Duccarita also spoke. Then, much to Vedana’s relief, Jord reverted to the common tongue. “But I had important things to do.”

“Are ya going to stay with us now?” the crossbreed said.

“I will stay for a while,” Jord said. “There’s something that needs to be done, and you will need my help.”

What are you cooking up now, you meddlesome bitch? You are such a pain in the
 . . .

Suddenly, Vedana noticed a subtle but invasive surge of magic floating down from above, like a shimmering blanket. Invictus was at it again, using the art of scrying in an attempt to locate Laylah. Vedana quickly spread a shroud of mist over all of them, clouding the sorcerer’s vision. Though her grandson was supremely powerful in most ways, some of his psychic abilities remained relatively crude, making it possible for her to deflect his scattered searches. She had veiled Mala’s battle with Bhayatupa, as well. But the sorcerer was improving, which made it more and more difficult to delude him.

Must she do everything for everyone? If not for her, Invictus would have found Torg and Laylah already. And if that happened too soon, Vedana would be doomed.

Then she had another frightening thought. What if Jord and the pesky eagles offered to fly Torg and Laylah to some far-off hiding place? That would foul up Vedana’s schemes. Maybe even ruin them for good. What should she do?

Hmmmmm. Bhayatupa might prove useful. The great dragon enjoyed eating mountain eagles almost as much as dracools.

BY THE TIME they were prepared for flight, the rising moon waned gibbous in the evening sky. Just before dusk they had eaten a cold meal, finishing off what remained of their meager provisions while listening to the white-haired woman discuss her plan to enter the City of Thieves. At first, the others had been stunned. But Jord insisted that the fate of Triken hung in the balance.

Laylah paid close attention to everything the woman said. Though she felt stronger than she had in weeks, she continued to depend on Obhasa to feed her a consistent supply of energy. With Torg wielding the Silver Sword, it made sense for her to retain possession of the wizard’s ivory staff.

During what remained of the afternoon, they sat in the rock shelter and listened to Torg describe what he had witnessed earlier that day during his flight with Jord. While Jivita and Nissaya prepared for siege, the vast army of Avici had begun its march. By mid-spring, the world would be at war. No ordinary army could breach the walls of Nissaya, but the army Mala led was anything but ordinary. And with the druids gathering to assail Jivita, the White City would be in no position to aid the black fortress.

Amid the gloom were tidbits of hope.

Jord leaned forward and told them a story that even Laylah found fascinating. The white-haired woman—whomever or whatever she was—claimed to have been many places, including the other side of the Akasa Ocean, where she said there was a forest that dwarfed even Dhutanga in scope. Within this behemoth of trees lived a peace-loving community of intelligent creatures called the Daasa, which communicated with barks, squeals, and whistles instead of words. The trees in this strange land were a different species than any east of the ocean, bearing fleshy nuts and fruits that were the Daasa’s main source of food. Like the druids of Dhutanga, the Daasa were shepherds of the woods. They also resembled the druids in the way they interrelated, moving about in massive, single-minded droves. But unlike the murderous druids, they were kind and gentle.

“I don’t mean to sound crude,” Rathburt said, “but if they are so kind and gentle, how can they help us?”

“That’s only part of their story,” Jord responded. “When they get angry or scared, they can wield great power.”

“What kind of power?” Laylah said with a touch of irritation, not appreciating how near the woman sat to Torg.

If Jord sensed Laylah’s jealousy, she didn’t show it. “When they get angry
 . . .
they change.”

“Huh?” Rathburt said.

“They become the opposite of what they are,” Lucius said, surprising Laylah and the others.

“How do you know this, firstborn?” Torg said.

“I’ve seen it myself, in the torture chambers of Invictus. Whenever he scheduled one of his infamous bloodbaths in the stone arena beneath Uccheda, the king loved to include the Daasa among the victims. When tortured, they made heartrending sounds, which tantalized Invictus and the monsters.

“Most often, the Daasa put up little fight. But one time, I witnessed a much different occurrence. One of the pitiful creatures began to change in a way that reminded me of a Warlish witch. But instead of transforming from beautiful to ugly, the Daasa changed from harmless to monstrous. Thorny spikes rose from its soft flesh; fangs erupted from its mouth; claws sprang from its toes. The beast growled like a rabid wolf and then leapt upon a vampire, ripping it to shreds. Several more monsters were slain, including a cave troll, before Mala managed to kick it to death.

“I have never seen Invictus laugh so hard. But no one else was amused. Including me.”

Lucius’ story amazed Laylah. She remembered him saying once that he’d seen things beneath Uccheda that were every bit as terrible as what she’d suffered above. Now she understood a little better what he’d meant.

Rathburt spoke next. “If these Daasa are so dangerous, why would they help us? It sounds as if their transformations turn them into mindless beasts.”

“Like the druids, the Daasa are of a single mind and can be commanded by a single will,” Jord said. “An evil resides within the City of Thieves that renders them impotent. The Daasa consider this being an abomination, but its psychic power is too great to resist, reaching across the ocean itself. If this evil is eliminated, the Daasa’s long-suppressed rage will rise to the surface, eager for vengeance.”

“These Dah-sah are very scary,” Ugga said. “I is not sure I likes them one bitsy.”

“In these dire times, we must seek allies wherever they might be,” Torg said. “If Jord says this venture is crucial, I believe her. Tonight we must fly to Duccarita on the wings of eagles and slip over its stone walls like shadows. Even within the city, we are not without friends. Jord knows of a haven. Once there, I will seek to destroy the evil of Duccarita.”

Laylah squeezed Torg’s thigh. “You won’t be alone,” she said, looking at Jord to make sure she knew to whom the wizard belonged. “I’ll be with you.”

“So will Elu,” the Svakaran said.

Ugga and Bard agreed. Even Lucius nodded.

Rathburt only rolled his eyes.

LUCIUS FOUND flying on the back of a mountain eagle far more peaceful than clinging to a dracool. The birds of prey, though not quite as large as
baby dragons
, carried their riders with more grace. All in all, it was a pleasant experience. He wondered if the eagles enjoyed it as much as he. Or did flying become as mundane as walking to such creatures?

With the bright moonlight providing visibility, Lucius could see six other eagles soaring around him. The one that bore Ugga had fallen slightly behind, the crossbreed’s girth and the weight of his axe overburdening it. Surprisingly, Jord had remained in her human form and chosen to ride, her streaming white hair even longer than Laylah’s blond locks.

Eventually they approached Duccarita.

Like the walls of Nissaya, the stone bulwarks that guarded the City of Thieves had been created almost entirely by natural forces, constructed underground and then vomited skyward. The eagles skimmed the top of the eastern wall, then dove steeply down its side. Lucius could see the immense city looming below, broad and glittering. From his previous visits as an emissary of Invictus, he remembered Duccarita as a conglomeration of warped and weathered buildings. In the congested heart of the city, most of the streets were barely wide enough for a wagon, and the alleyways were even narrower. Stories of horrors in the darkness made even a hardened soldier shudder.

With Jord’s mount leading the way, they flew over a grotesque mishmash of shingled rooftops. The eagles skimmed above them with surprising delicacy, making less sound than a breath of breeze. From the ground, they would have been invisible to all but the wariest eyes, though it mattered little. At this time of night, hard drinking, whoring, and gambling would eliminate most attempts at wariness. Besides, what few guards Duccarita kept on hand were stationed at the southern entrance of the city, where the natural stone bulwark opened into the Gap of Gamana like a dam burst asunder. Once within the city, there were no guards—only pirates, thieves, and a variety of other rascally types, who would slit your throat for a mug of ale or a pair of worn boots.

They landed on a rooftop that looked no different to Lucius than any of the others. How Jord and the eagles were able to distinguish this particular place was beyond his comprehension. The white-haired woman opened a pair of shutters set into a dormer and climbed inside. Lucius was the last to follow. Before entering, he turned and watched the eagles launch into the sky. For better or worse, he and Laylah were trapped within the most wicked city in the world.

Once inside, Lucius squinted to make out his surroundings. He and his companions stood in a dark room barely large enough to contain them. He hunched over to avoid banging his head on the angled ceiling. A large man stood at the head of a stairway, whispering to Jord in a conspiratorial tone. Then he started downward. Jord followed, motioning for the others to do the same.

Torg went next, and then Laylah. The pair were holding hands. Lucius felt a surge of jealousy, his hundredth of the day, but he noticed that each occurrence was becoming a little less intense. Somehow he was growing accustomed to the fact that the wizard and his queen were inseparable. At the same time that it broke his heart, it also warmed it. Seeing Laylah so happy wasn’t such a bad thing, even if he weren’t the reason for it. And he had to admit that, despite his best efforts to the contrary, he was starting to admire the Death-Knower.

The stairway was claustrophobically narrow, with wooden steps that creaked and complained. The stairs spilled onto the second floor of a small inn. The group filed into a bedchamber as cramped as the room they’d first entered. The large man bowed to Jord and then slipped away to attend to other business. A foul-smelling oil lamp provided the only light. They huddled together between a pair of lumpy beds and waited for Jord to speak.

“This floor of the inn belongs to us,” she said in a low voice. “There are three other bedrooms, so we can spread out some. The innkeeper will bring us a meal shortly.”

“Who
is
the innkeeper?” Laylah said. “Why should we trust him?”

Torg answered, instead of Jord. “His name is Ditthi-Rakkhati, and he owns this inn. But in truth, he is a Jivitan spy. In the past, the White City has paid scant attention to Duccarita, because the pirates and slave traders rarely ventured south of the gap. But in these dire times, Jivita has found it necessary to broaden its horizons. Despite his appearance, Rakkhati can be trusted.”

“How do you know this?” Laylah said in a wounded tone.

Lucius realized he wasn’t the only one struggling with jealousy. But the wizard’s response surprised him. “The eagle told me, as we flew over the walls.”

“Not Jord? You mean, a real eagle told you this?” Rathburt said, rolling his eyes. “So now you can speak with birds?”

“You talk to plants,” Torg said. “Why can’t I talk to animals?”

“Hmmph!”

“My eagle spoke to me too,” Ugga bellowed proudly. “He said, ‘Ya are one heavy booger!’”

They all laughed, Jord the loudest.

But a moment later, the white-haired woman’s countenance changed dramatically and her face contorted. “Why didn’t you warn me?” she cried, as if to an invisible presence. Then: “Noooo!
NO
!” She raced up the stairway.

Torg and the others followed. When Lucius finally clambered onto the roof, he heard screams coming from the street.

“The dragon comes,” a stranger was shouting from below. “Lord Bhayatupa is upon us!”

A crackling explosion caused the night sky to erupt. Lucius cowered, but another blast jerked his attention upward.

“Kwahu!” he heard Jord scream as she transformed into a mountain eagle and sprang into the air, leaving shreds of her magical robe sparkling in her wake.

“
Stop
!” Torg cried.

The wizard leapt after her, but he was too late. In her new incarnation, Jord hurtled toward the dragon, whose hovering silhouette was clearly visible on the moonlit horizon. A pair of black specks circled the dragon’s head, and he realized with a gasp that these were the mountain eagles, doing battle with the monstrous serpent, which was thirty times their size, at least. Even more frightening, several balls of fire—the burning carcasses of eagles already fallen—clung to the crest of the eastern wall, as if someone had lighted bonfires on ledges a thousand cubits off the ground.

“You are not his match. Not like this!” Torg yelled, but the hooting and cursing that came from the streets below drowned out his voice.

The black speck nearest Bhayatupa’s snout burst into flame. The other appeared to flee, but it too succumbed to crimson fire. Then another silhouette rose in challenge, expanding in size until it rivaled the dragon, though more bird-like in appearance. Green torrents surged from its open beak, engulfing Bhayatupa in a barrage of energy. But the dragon spewed a ball of crimson vomit at his attacker, and the eagle incarnation caught fire and fell from the sky, dropping somewhere beyond the wall. Soon after, a blast as hot and angry as a desert windstorm collapsed upon the city.

Horrified, Lucius turned to Torg for some kind of comfort, but the wizard stood still as stone, staring at the smoky night sky. Things had happened so fast the others were still peering at the carnage from inside the window. Just then, Bhayatupa plunged upon them, soaring over the rooftops like a mountain with wings, the wind of their wake knocking Lucius off his feet. When Bhayatupa passed by again, Lucius looked up and saw one of the dragon’s massive round eyes, glowing with ancient might.

“
Abhisambodhi
! (Highest enlightenment!)” Bhayatupa howled, so loud that all who dwelled in Duccarita must have been able to hear—and then the greatest of all dragons, past or present, sped away beyond the walls.

“
Andhabaala
(Fool of fools),” Torg shouted back. “
Abhisambodhi
is beyond you.”

Lucius had little idea what either of them had meant.