Spirit Past (Book 8) (29 page)

The question haunted him, and he feared the potential answer. He didn't dislike himself, hardly ever felt real shame, but he knew he could be more than a simple pest. He accepted his faults. He was a braggart and a louse, and he was always more concerned with his own comforts than other people's needs.

He had been called a coward and wouldn't argue, but in a certain fashion, he was as brave as any of Burbon's soldiers. He had to be, otherwise the energy within him would have destroyed him.

He was connected to Uton in a way few could ever comprehend. He could sculpt the land into anything he wanted, pull strength from every rock and stone. Every grain of dirt empowered him, just as each one bent to his will. The land fed his essence with magic that was potent and heavy, not like the air or water. He believed his red energy was the strongest of all the natural hues.

And yet, he could never take full hold of the power at his command. He believed if he did, it would overwhelm him, crush him into the soil and make him part of the land which fed him with the deep crimson energy.

And so, there he sat, alone in a tavern and more powerful than any other citizen of a town where he sought sanctuary. Yet with all that power, he was nothing more than a vagabond, hoping the citizens of Burbon wouldn't set him out into the wilderness; send him out to a most disturbing fate.

He took another gulp of ale but regretted swallowing. He needed to maintain control and too much ale wasn't going to help. It would only lead him to the mistake he feared. He pushed away the mug and cursed.

As if to punctuate his misgivings, Gnafil appeared before him. The appearance of the infern surprised Neltus beyond measure. He never believed Reiculf would risk sending one of his slaves to Burbon, not with so much at stake.

"Sitting alone, languishing in self pity?" the half-demon asked.

"You're the one who is going to need pity if you stay here," Neltus warned, strangely confident that the infern could not take him against his will, at least not in Burbon.

The half-demon actually confirmed the crimson wizard's claim.

"I am aware of what I face, and thus, I have little time to argue with you. This town is protected by a guardian spirit, but you are not. While I cannot take you here, eventually, you will fall. Leave now and it will be easier on you. Force the master to wait and take you against your will, and you will pay dearly."

"So you're giving me a choice?"

"I am, as is the spirit protector. Otherwise, he would have already appeared. The ghost captain is aware of my presence, but he leaves you to your own designs."

"But you still can't take me by force, can you? The spirit won't let you."

The infern would not respond, so Neltus pushed for more information.

"Why are you coming to me now? They're all in Connel; Enin, Scheff, Shantree. You must know that."

"We do. We know exactly where they are, and that has allowed us this opportunity. You are alone, and though protected in this town, you still have the ability to choose your path. It will make it easier for us if you come along willingly. You can come to Connel and our victory will be assured."

"So it's all up to me?"

"Not entirely. There are always external circumstances. We will win at Connel whether you help us or not. We were just hoping you would make it easier for all involved. As for you, how long can you stay in this town? How long will they allow you to remain?"

"As long as I like."

Gnafil hissed with disgust.

"These humans? They are consumed with order. They will not tolerate your antics. You are not one of them."

"Maybe not, but as long as I don't bother them, they won't bother me."

"And how long can that possibly last?" Gnafil asked with a snicker. "You—the annoying wizard who takes so much joy in irritating others—you have always been the grit in someone else's mouth."

Neltus almost argued, but he could not cast off the understanding of his own personality. He knew he would not be happy in Burbon, not indefinitely. It offered sanctuary, but it came at a price. He realized he did have to make a choice. It wasn't as easy as he thought it might be, but it also wasn't that difficult.

"You're right," the wizard admitted. "I don't like this town, but becoming Reiculf's slave is worse. If I have to choose between the two, I'll stay here."

"You do not sound convincing," Gnafil snarled.

"I don't have to convince you. I just have to convince myself, and maybe that spirit that walks this town."

As if being summoned, the tavern filled with light, and the spirit of Sy Fenden appeared between the infern and the wizard. The apparition did not speak, but it glared at the half-demon.

Gnafil stepped back, allowed for greater space between itself and the ghost captain. He sneered, but made no move to attack. Despite the near limitless power at his disposal, the infern knew it could not triumph against the spirit guardian. Just before Gnafil cast a spell to escape, the half-demon offered one last proposition to the wizard.

"When you grow weary of this place, simply leave. The master will be waiting for you just beyond the gate."

With nothing else to say, the half-demon created a ring of amber fire and directed the magic to transport him out of Burbon.

The apparition did not leave, and it did not turn to face the wizard. Instead, the ghost of Sy Fenden stared patiently at the door, which soon opened.

Captain Klusac stepped into the tavern but immediately stopped upon seeing the spirit at the center of the inn. He nodded once, then twice, and finally responded to a voice no one could hear but him.

"I'll tell him."

The spirit vanished, and Klusac walked over to the wizard. The captain looked Neltus dead in the eye, and once again offered a clear assessment of the situation.

"Sy told me what happened. You chose to stay here for your protection, and we
will
protect you during this conflict."

"During the conflict?" Neltus asked. "That sounds as if there's going to be some conclusion to all of this. Does your ghost captain believe there will be an end?"

"He knows it."

"Really? That's odd. I didn't think there was a possible end to Reiculf."

"I don't know about that. I just know what he said. The conflict is reaching a critical point. While he's happy you decided to stay, he wants you to know that changing your mind is no longer an option. If you take one step beyond the walls that surround Burbon, it will be your last."

"Not a very friendly spirit."

"He's not your friend. Oh, and it's not simply a matter of stepping through a gate or climbing the wall. If you think you can just teleport out of here, think again. He won't allow it. He even recommended you give it a try."

Neltus found the claim intriguing, but he had no desire to test the spirit, or to put himself in a vulnerable situation.

"That's okay, I don't want to leave."

"You don't get it. He was rather insistent. He said you should attempt the spell, and he wouldn't hold it against you. I wouldn't upset him if I were you. Try to teleport out of here. You can always return, but it won't be necessary, you're not going anywhere."

Neltus didn't like the idea at all. Gnafil had confirmed he was safe in Burbon. Teleporting out of the town was inviting trouble. Still, he could not dismiss the warning of the guard captain. Klusac could somehow communicate with the spirit, and it seemed as if Sy Fenden wanted him to test a teleportation spell. If he angered the apparition, he risked his expulsion. It appeared he might be doomed either way.

Hoping to remain somewhat in control, Neltus decided to teleport to a place of relative safety. He focused on a short trip near the western sea. As long as he was quick, he could return to Burbon in a mere instant.

With a destination in mind, Neltus called on the crimson magic. The energy crackled about him, but he remained where he stood.

"There," Klusac offered. "Now you know."

Neltus was almost speechless. He could not imagine how the spirit of a dead captain managed to keep him tied to one spot. It was as if he was chained to Burbon. After shaking off the initial shock, he could not help but question the length of his captivity.

"So I'm stuck here forever?"

"Just as long as the conflict with Reiculf continues. I told you it would end. When it does, you can leave. For now, stay here... and stay out of trouble."

#

The delver unsheathed the Sword of Decree. Even in the darkness created by demons of smoke flying over Connel, the weapon enhanced the meager ambient light, and the blade radiated with brilliance. As he lifted the sword high, he wondered if he would receive inspiration on what to do... or even what
not
to do.

The sword offered nothing. It shined as a beacon of hope to everyone that witnessed its splendor, even as they were surrounded by demons bent on overwhelming the entire city with their spiteful gloom. It glistened like the first bright star that appears just after sunset, but it gave no further direction to the delver.

Believing in the simple logic of his plan, Ryson went to work. He rushed to the nearest wave of smoke demons, bore into them without regard for his own well-being. The foundation of his attack was simple, pour light upon the darowks and force them from the city.

He did not have to stab or make contact with the creatures. The brilliant light from his enchanted blade scorched the demons. Pointing the tip of the sword forward, a thin yet intense beam cut through the dark packs, sent the demons into a frenzied retreat.

The darowks could not counter the attack. They could not swarm over the delver and engulf him with their vaporous bodies to cut off his air. His speed would not allow it. They could not even form a sufficient barrier to obstruct the surrounding light and force the sword to go dark. Even with bodies of thick smoke, they were not of adequate substance to block out every glint of light. A simple glimmer was all the Sword of Decree required to glow majestically and scatter the shadowy creatures.

Knowing his assault would hamper the efforts of the demons, Ryson sprinted to the center of the city and began to work his way outward. With all the speed he could muster, he rushed down every road and alley, breaking up the swarms of the corrupt creatures as they hoped to smother the human residents of Connel.

The demons shrieked as they scattered. They did not simply back away or seek a moments reprieve from the burning radiance. They fled wildly from the sword's light and revealed great reluctance to face the beam a second time. Most flew back into the sky and joined the dark mass that hung over the city. A few broke in a mad dash to the borders of Connel.

Ryson freed hundreds upon hundreds from the choking clouds that poured through the streets. He never stopped moving, never paused to accept thanks or praise. He ran, jumped and climbed from one block to the next. He never had to halt for an extended battle, never had to slow to encourage more resilient darowks to flee. The intense light of his sword guaranteed immediate victory over every demon.

As Ryson hounded the darowks, Jure continued to battle the serp. Unfortunately, the wizard could not claim equal success. Every spell failed to fracture Macheve's defenses.

The remainder of the group watched the conflict with growing uncertainty. They did not wish to stand idly by, but Ansas offered nothing in the way of direction. Confusion quickly turned to frustration and desperation.

Holli remained magically exhausted from her last spell, and she knew there was little she could do against Reiculf's pawn. If she was going to serve in battle, she would have to rely on her other abilities.

From her position, the elf could only obtain short glimpses of the delver. She tried to gauge his movements by following the unmistakable glow of his sword. She understood the delver's plan, but also recognized an error in his strategy.

"He will not be able to move them out of the city entirely," she called out to Enin. "They are fleeing from his sword, but they will never leave Connel completely. They chose to leave Demonspawn to punish the humans, and they are now bound to that decision. As fast as Ryson is, the darowks will eventually push back into the center of the city when he strays out too far. We need to advise all the people of Connel to take shelter in an area Ryson can protect. I will help in that regard."

"I can help as well," Haven offered. "The light of my magic can increase the power of his sword. He can clear larger areas."

Until the elf sorceress spoke, Ansas remained engrossed with the continuing conflict between Macheve and Jure. He watched the wizard pour out spell after spell against the serp only to have each assault cast aside with the wave of a hand or the flick of a finger. The sorcerer tried to estimate the outflow of magical energy from each combatant, and the casual regard in which the serp deflected each attack left him with little hope that Macheve was exhausting her energy. Still, he would not simply surrender, and he searched painstakingly for a weakness he could exploit.

With his survival at stake, he did not care about Ryson, or his plans to save the people of Connel from darowks. The city and its residents were not his concern, not in any fashion. The war with Reiculf would have collateral casualties. He accepted that without regret or remorse.