Spirit Past (Book 8) (9 page)

"A portal has opened and closed at the center of the camp."

"A portal?" Birk questioned.

"It was hidden in the fog. The rogues came through, and then, I believe at the very last... a serp."

"But how can that be? Scheff cast the spell of fog after the rogues were already here. He said they were cloaked... invisible."

"Mine is the magic of light," Haven reminded the captain. "I can see things hidden in fog or cloaked in magic. The rogues came into the camp through the portal... after the fog encased the area. They were never invisible."

Never invisible?

Birk looked at Haven in disbelief, but he could not argue with one so strong in the ways of light. The cloak of invisibility, however, was the claim made by an equally powerful spell caster. It was the reason Scheff cast the spell of fog, a spell that was hampering their efforts. Even the wind ripping through the trees could not disperse the heavy mist.

"The wind!" Birk exclaimed as he looked to the tops of the trees.

The gales that rattled the branches were of magical origin, he could not deny it, and only a caster as adept in violet magic as Scheff could have maintained such control. But why would Scheff unleash winds to dislodge the elves while the fog continued to blanket the enemy rogues? If Haven was right, and there was no reason to doubt
her
, Birk could come to only one conclusion.

When the full realization of Scheff's betrayal hit, Birk cursed and immediately ordered a redeployment of his forces.

"Swords!" he shouted. "All guards to the ground! Engage!"

With frantic diligence, elf guards fought against the heavy winds as they raced down the trees. Even as they swayed back and forth through the buckling branches, they swung their bows back around their shoulders and drew their swords in their downward plunge. Rather than fight the magical forces summoned against them, they allowed the fierce winds to hasten their descent and used the slowly rising fog to cover their downward movements.

Once they reached the lower limbs, they plummeted from the trees like overripe apples. Some hit the ground square. Others fell directly upon river rogues, dispatching them with their sharp, thin blades the moment they felt the monsters under their feet.

Within the dense fog, the battle became ferocious. Where elves could dance across tree limbs, rogues ruled the damp forest grounds. The beasts were accustomed to the heavy mist, and they could see deep into the haze. Their claws and fangs were razor sharp and they swiped and bit at anything within reach.
The scaled creatures swarmed furiously against any opposing motion and their numbers exceeded those of their prey.

The elves fought back with controlled fury. Turning the tide of battle required utilizing the haze to their own advantage. They crouched low in heavier pockets of fog and looked for swirling movements in the mist. Staying out of the reach of clamping jaws and slashing claws, the elf guards cut the legs out from under their foes.

They used whistles and clicks of the tongue to identify each other in the shroud of mist so as not to carelessly attack one another. Their swords quickly crippled the monsters and then dispatched them with quick stabs to the neck or chest. Screeches of pain were quickly ended in death as the blood of rogues mixed with that of the previously fallen elves.

Even as the elf guards moved across the forest floor with stunning efficiency, it seemed as if there was no end to the number of rogues slashing through the fog. The wind continued to beat upon the upper branches and several more elves fell to their deaths after the guard began their assault. The carnage grew.

At the very edges of the fog bank that engulfed the elf camp, Shantree Wispon was guided through the trees by five highly skilled elf guards. Three remained within reach of the elf leader while one scouted ahead and set a path for escape. The fifth elf guard lingered several trees back to cover their retreat.

As they broke free of the fog, Shantree came to a halt.

"We should wait here," she advised.

"We must create more of a buffer between our position and the fog," one of the guards insisted. "We need to have a clear view in all directions."

Not wishing to argue with guards who swore to protect her at the cost of their own lives, the elder nodded in acceptance.

The relationship between the guards and the camp leader was a fragile one under such circumstances. The elder held authority over all elves, but her safety was paramount to all other considerations. Protecting her was the duty of every elf guard. When the orders of an elder directly conflicted with her security, elf defenders faced the prospect of disobeying their leader or ignoring their duty.

Shantree understood that dynamic and realized that creating such a dilemma would be beyond unwise, it would be catastrophic. Echoes of mayhem continued to stream out from the fog. She knew that Birk Grund had taken command, and she would trust him to lead her camp out of the chaos. The worst mistake she could make would be to generate an unnecessary crisis near the very edges of the battle.

"Very well," she agreed, "but only create a buffer that is necessary for safety. I need to be as close as possible to assist those in need when the confrontation is over. We will have to restore order as quickly as possible."

The elf guards gave due consideration to the request and led Shantree to the center of a large elm tree. The position was clear of any tapering mist, but still within view of the camp's outer boundaries. The center clearing, however, remained shrouded in the heavy fog. Neither the guards nor Shantree could determine the status of the engagement.

Three of the guards remained at Shantree's side. The other two circled her position in the trees, taking note of all movements in the surrounding woods. Initially, they could only hear the sounds of vicious fighting, but soon the patrolling escorts picked up the unmistakable rustle of two individuals passing through the mist and toward Shantree's position. They were very surprised to see Scheff Rutlan stalk out of the fog with a serp behind him.

Ryson remembered well the high plain resting at the top of the tall rock tower. He never completely understood the intricacies of the dark dimension and how its existence could be broken up into somewhat separate but also overlapping layers. The magical makeup of the realm allowed for twists and breaks in the physical environment that differed greatly from the nature of his homeland. The spire they stood upon reached deep toward the edges of the dimension and somehow extended through the upper boundaries of the realm. It seemed as if they stood within a hair's distance of the transitional space between existence and oblivion.

He assumed the tower of stone—constructed by the sorcerer Ansas with the help of Neltus—was built with enough magic to penetrate such complex barriers, but such concepts meant little to Ryson. As a delver, he relied more on what his senses could tell him, and he could see no actual trace of the energy. After Enin had magically transported them from the outside of Ansas' house to the plateau where he had once fought the sorcerer, he placed his attention on the more material aspects of the surrounding area.

The flat ground was hard and rocky, barren of life. The wide and somewhat circular surface extended out to high ledges that rested over incredible cliff faces. The view from the precipice was as staggering as it was depressing.

The grim lands below stretched out into the distant horizon, and Ryson could see lakes of boiling acid and pits of fire. The dark orange glow from the flames did little more than create shadows of gloom upon skeletal trees and across bleak hills of dried ash. Above, the dark skies glistened with stars, the only indication of hope in an otherwise dismal existence.

Ryson turned his focus away from the lower lands and back to the plateau. Prone upon the ground and near the center of the spire's flat crown rested the unmoving body of the sorcerer Ansas. It had remained there untouched, a hollow shell with only a spark of magic to keep the body from decomposing into dust.

"Everything appears to be the way we left it," Ryson noted, as his delver eyes quickly scanned the grounds for any signs of recent disturbance. Finding none, he looked to the wizard for further explanation. "Why did you teleport us here?"

"Because of him," Enin responded as he nodded to the near lifeless body of the sorcerer.

"You think he's involved in this?"

"Not willingly, but in a way, it's his magic that Reiculf is using."

"It's not his
magic
!" Neltus argued, visibly shaken. He did not trust Ansas when the sorcerer was full of life. With Reiculf seeking to claim the crimson spell caster, standing so close to Ansas' body was even more distressing. "It's his discoveries... the notes he made and the mechanics of his spells!"

"You are not looking deep enough," Enin advised. "Reiculf does seem to be using Ansas' methods, but that's not all he's doing. He's using the echoes of the ebony magic. I'm just not certain how."

"But I thought Ansas' essence was taken by Baannat," Ryson interrupted.

"It was," Enin confirmed, "but there are still trace amounts of magic within his body. There were also remnants of ebony energy in the house, as well as in those individuals that once accepted slices of Ansas' core."

"That's why we shouldn't be here!" Neltus whined.

"Neltus!" Enin admonished, "Enough. The only way I can help you is if I understand what's going on. Reiculf is no small matter, and if he has found a way to threaten Uton, we have to explore all avenues... including Ansas' ebony magic."

"You think we might able to use that against Reiculf?" Ryson wondered.

"I don't know what can be used against such a creature," Enin responded with blunt honesty, "but the sorcerer is clearly connected to all of this... as is his magic. For some reason, I think it was Ansas who was calling for help. I believe that was the source of the plea from within his sanctuary. It's the only thing that makes sense."

As if to confirm the wizard's assumption, Ansas' body began to stir. At first, it shifted only slightly as it remained otherwise stationary upon the ground, but then it quivered and shook. The trembling motion extended down the arms and legs, even as the whole body began to rustle about on the ground.

"What's happening?" Ryson demanded, as his hands moved to the hilts of the war blades at his hips.

"Let it be," Enin advised. "It is as I guessed, we were being summoned here."

Ansas' body slowly rose from the ground, but did so awkwardly and continued to shake violently. When it finally reached a standing position, it stumbled about the open ground as if it could not maintain its balance. The arms swung madly about and the legs buckled several times, but it remained upright.

Ryson moved carefully about the rocks as he closed upon the body. He did not get near enough to touch it, but he maintained a position to get a good look at the face. He peered into the eyes, but there was no spark of life within them. The sorcerer's expression looked just as unresponsive as it did when he was prone on the ground.

"He's not conscious," Ryson alerted the others.

"It's the magic," Enin advised. "It's returning to him. That means a part of him is also being returned."

"Returned?"

"Yes, his essence is calling to the magic."

"But how could he have gotten free from Baannat?" Ryson questioned. "I didn't see a portal. Did you sense one?"

"No, but that may be why he is not completely conscious. There appears to be..."

Before Enin could finish, the body of Ansas raised its hand and a ring of jet black magic formed around the wrist. With a flick of the arm, the circle of energy flew out into the air and created a portal just above the center of the plateau.

Just as the rift opened, the twisted existence of the slink ghoul, Baannat, broke through the gateway. The ghoul appeared only partially solid, and his body shimmered with hints of instability. It seemed as if he walked upon the ground and floated in the air at the same time. When he spoke, his words echoed with a small sizzle, almost like the hiss of air being pressed through a pinhole.

"Why guess what is happening?" Baannat offered, "You can ask me."

They were all surprised at his sudden appearance, but it was Linda who recoiled at the sight of the ghoul. She stepped back from the apparition as well as from the rift that remained open. She couldn't see, smell, or hear anything in the blankness within the center of the gateway, and that was exactly what she remembered.

She had once been trapped in the ghoul's realm of nonexistence. Her essence had been flung into a similar portal, and her soul was trapped in sheer emptiness. The only thing that existed in the hollow void was Baannat... and horrific torment. She remembered the pain she felt when her own essence was torn and shredded by Baannat's icy claws.

Dzeb noticed Linda's revulsion and stepped to her side. He gently placed his mammoth hand lightly on her shoulder. When she looked up at him, he smiled warmly. His expression and the calm serenity in his eyes made it clear he would protect her from the ghoul.

Ryson noticed both reactions. He was grateful for Dzeb's presence, but it would not diminish his own seething anger. He had no fear of the slink ghoul. The delver had already defeated the monster in two battles. He would do so again if it was necessary, but he had believed such a conflict was no longer necessary. It was his understanding that Baannat had been banished from both Uton and the dark realm.

"Why do you keep coming here?" the delver demanded. "I thought you had to stay in your own realm!"

The ghoul smirked before offering an explanation.

"Ansas acts as a bridge for me," the ghoul finally offered through a snicker. "He's the one who once stole magic from my realm. He made it possible for me to open a portal into this portion of the dark realm when he made the connection to my energy. Actually, this spire is not completely in the dark realm, not all of it anyway. That makes the connection so much easier to create."

"But he's with you now. You took him. How can he serve as a bridge?"

"I'm giving him back to you," the ghoul hissed.

Enin stepped forward.

"Tell me what this is all about!" the wizard commanded. "Only a portion of Ansas' essence has been returned."

"That is true, but it was enough for me to create the portal. That was all I needed... initially."

"You intend to do more?"

"I will have to. I couldn't just return a portion. You should know that. The process will complete itself and return his full essence, but I wanted to release him into your care. He is not my ally, not after all I've done to him. That's why I called you here. I didn't want to just let him go."

"Why would you release him at all?" Enin demanded.

"Because you're going to need him."

"Need him for what?"

"For your fight with Reiculf. Isn't it obvious? That's where all this is headed."

Perhaps the assertion was not totally unexpected, but it still stunned those gathered on the plateau. Hearing such a premonition from the ghoul did little to lift their spirits. If anything, it sparked a level of despair, especially in one individual.

"You can't fight Reiculf!" Neltus cried out.

"Then what will you do?" Baannat challenged. "Hide? You can't hide now that the demon lord has gained access into other realms. You should know that more than anyone. You were the one who went to Enin when you realized Reiculf was after you."

"But not to fight him!"

"Of course you're going to have to fight him. What did you think was going to happen? Was your guardian wizard going to give the demon master a stern lecture?"

"I wanted Enin to restore the barrier."

"An excellent plan," Baannat offered with a slight cackle, "but how was he going to do that? He can't just stuff Reiculf back in a box and close the lid."

"Let us first deal with you," Enin stated coldly as he took back the reigns of the discussion. "You were in control of Ansas' essence, which means you sent the call for help, placed the message in the magic at the sorcerer's home in the dark realm."

"Very true, and I congratulate you on your insight. You figured that out faster than I expected."

"I care little for your compliments. I would prefer an explanation."

"What confuses you? It seems very clear to me."

"Why would you call for my help?"

"Really?" the ghoul scoffed. "That's your question?"

"Why don't you try answering it?" Ryson interjected, also more than curious as to the slink ghoul's intentions. He didn't trust Baannat, or Ansas, and anything involving both of them certainly carried hidden perils... and costs.

"I'm surprised with all of you, except for maybe the behemoth. I can sense he knows what's going to happen."

All eyes turned to Dzeb, not with an expression of accusation, but with a desire for the truth. They knew they could trust the cliff behemoth far more than the ghoul.

"Reiculf has broken through the barriers that once contained him," the giant offered to those looking for an explanation. "We know that. He will try to destroy all that honors Godson. He must be stopped."

"A bit simplistic," Baannat replied with another snicker, "but basically that sums it up."

"That does not answer why you called for help," Enin reminded the slink ghoul, "or why you would want to release Ansas.
You
do not honor Godson."

"No, I don't," the ghoul admitted, "but do you think Reiculf will be satisfied with just destroying your realm? I don't really care what happens to any of you, but I do care about my existence, or rather nonexistence. I'm growing fond of my new realm, but that's only for as long as I'm in control. Reiculf wants to rule over everything, or destroy it. He sees me as a rival. Once he annihilates everything that honors Godson—as the giant put it—he's going to get around to me. "

"Then why don't you fight him?" Ryson challenged.

"Because I'd rather let you do it," Baannat snarled.

"And you think we'll need Ansas' help?"

"He will be a vital part."

Ryson quickly glanced at Ansas, who was still on his feet but also appeared as nothing more than a mere shell of a man. The sorcerer stood like a statue, oblivious to the conversation. The delver turned his attention back to Baannat and shook his head with disgust.

"I don't think so," the delver stated with a deepening scowl. "I think this is all a trick. I think you're taking advantage of a horrible situation. It's what you do."

"Perhaps, but why would I give up something of my own, even for a little while?"

"You're not giving anything up."

"But I am."

To substantiate his claim, Baannat took one clawed hand and reached back into the portal. He took his other arm and stretched it toward the body of the sorcerer. The unstable form of the slink ghoul appeared to solidify, but only for a single heartbeat. When the ghoul pulled his hand back from the portal, it was empty and he returned to a state of flux, a creature of incomplete substance in a physical realm.

Just as Baannat pulled out his hand, Ansas' body fell to the ground, but it did not remain motionless, or silent. Ansas screamed in pain as he struggled against a rushing return of physical agony, his body severely injured from his last encounter in the dark realm.