A Whisper After Midnight Read online

  He answered, “Because I can’t seem to make it up. None of this is right, Rekka.”

  She appeared confused. “What is wrong? We have the wizard, a Giant to wield the hammer and know where it is located. I don’t believe we’re missing anything.”

  You’ve got to be kidding me. Not missing anything? How about common sense? How about knowing what in the world we are doing in the first place? Dorl wanted to tip his head back and shout at the top of his lungs in the hope of bringing the mountain down on his head to relieve the frustration. Too many questions and doubts kept him down and he had no one to ask that fatal question to: why?

  “Rekka, what made you come to Delranan in the first place? There has to be more than your elders decided it must be you.”

  She stiffened slightly, caught off guard. “One does not question the gods. They commune with the spirits of the gods and of the earth. Knowledge comes from them alone. We must all obey or the cause is lost.”

  “Cause?” he asked, deciding to press further.

  “Good and evil must coexist in order for the world to spin with symmetry. One cannot vanquish the other or all we know will be plunged into total chaos. Yet there cannot be too much of one. Balance must be maintained. We are the keepers of the balance. My people have long defended the temple masters but we are very few. We serve righteousness and justice. The Dae’shan and their masters threaten to undo us. Therefore our cause is in great peril. You were all chosen for reasons that go beyond my comprehension.”

  Rekka fell silent, having said more than enough. She’d been given specific instructions not to get involved with the brutal and barbaric northerners. Not to tell more of her life than necessary in order to accomplish her mission. She had questions of her own. How would she know the right ones to approach? Would they be pure enough? The elders brushed off her concerns and sent her on her way with the knowledge that she was setting out to help save Malweir from eternal darkness. Fortunately, many of those questions were answered easily when she stumbled across Anienam Keiss. Now that they’d been together for a few months, Rekka came to doubt finding him was an accident.

  The wizard guided her through those dark patches she couldn’t navigate, helped her understand the much larger picture her elders had either forgotten or never knew. He always knew precisely what to say and when. Every time she felt the tug of doubt he was there to wipe her concerns away. No, finding him was no accident. Anienam Keiss had been searching for her from the beginning. He too must have guessed the time of confluence was fast approaching. A time when the dark gods would make their next attempt at returning to claim their vacant thrones.

  And he should. The ancient order of Mages once held those dark forces at bay. Born from the trials of a handful of Gaimosians, the order slowly became the dominant body on all Malweir. They were sought for their great wisdom and abilities to heal and more. Everyone celebrated their society at Ipn Shal until they made the crystal of Tol Shere. The dark gods infiltrated the Mages and used the crystal to wreak unspeakable horrors on the world. In the end, only a handful of Mages lived. One of them was Anienam’s father.

  Centuries of hit-and-run battles and weak attempts at regaining power filled the space between the fall of Ipn Shal and now. Centuries of unprecedented grief and despair. Anienam’s father gave his life to the cause, stopping his arch nemesis, Sidian the Silver Mage, in what he thought had been the final battle. History proved him wrong. The dark gods lingered on, ever hungering for their return. Now only Anienam remained: the last of his kind. Magic was dying and there was little room left in Malweir for it. People didn’t want to be reminded of what magic did to them. How badly it had altered their style of life.

  When Dorl spoke again it was slow and thoughtful. “I don’t believe I will ever understand you, Rekka Jel, but you have my devotion. Never doubt my intent to remain at your side, no matter how dark the night becomes.”

  She reached out and squeezed his offered hand before riding to the front of the column.

  “I don’t believe I just heard that come from your mouth.”

  Dorl narrowed his eyes on his oldest and best friend, Nothol Coll. “Just had to open your mouth and spoil the moment, didn’t you?”

  “I had to open my mouth to vomit,” he replied with laughter. “If I didn’t know better I’d say she had your balls in a little pouch around her neck.”

  Dorl, angered, pointed an accusing finger. “Just you listen up, I can take a fair amount of abuse from you, friend, but I draw the line when it comes to her.”

  “So she can’t abuse your ears?” Nothol asked.

  “You know damned well what I mean!”

  Laughing harder, Nothol held up his hands. “Relax, Doral. I’m only playing and you know it. What are friends for, right?”

  “They’re not for this. I can tell you that much.”

  “Nonsense.” Nothol stopped laughing. “We’re heading deep into it here, my friend, and I need to know you’ve got my back just like before. We can’t trust too many of the others, in case you haven’t figured it out. That means we need to stick together no matter what. I don’t mind helping out on an important cause and all but I’m not ready to give up my life for it just yet.”

  “When have you ever been willing to die for something not your choice?” Dorl asked, still upset with how easily Nothol had crossed the boundary.

  “I never have and I doubt I ever will, but if what the wizard says is even half true then we might have a real shot at immortality.”

  “Now you want to live forever? I don’t get you. You’re starting to talk like that crack pot old man,” Dorl said, shaking his head.

  Nothol reached out and smacked him on the back of his head. “No, stupid. Ain’t nobody can live forever. I’m talking about my name. How many future generations will look back on our deeds and say, ‘There was a true hero! A selfless man.’ Think about it, Dorl. We have the chance to become heroes.”

  Dorl couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Nothol Coll was normally a reserved and prudent man, now he talked like Skuld at the beginning of the quest. Dreams of treasure and greatness had filled the young boy’s head, at least until they ran into trouble and he saw how wrong he’d been. Now Skuld only hoped to make it home alive. And Nothol suffered from delusions of grandeur.

  “Heroes die young,” he finally said. “I’d like to live awhile longer if it’s all the same.”

  Nothol shrugged. “Now, later. What difference does it make? In the end we all go back to the dirt and fade away.”

  “Have you been drinking?”

  “Not yet. I didn’t know we had anything left,” Nothol replied.

  Frustrated, Dorl spurred his horse forward to confront Anienam on filling his best friend’s head with nonsense. Nothol watched him go, pausing only to glance up at the wagon. He found Skuld looking back at him. The blank look on his face told Nothol everything. Suddenly disturbed, he looked skyward. Not sure what he’d find, he searched the grey clouds for answers, truths, for any sign that he was making the right decisions going forward. His eyes focused. Is that? Perhaps I’m too tired. Long nights in the saddle have robbed me of my senses. But I know what I saw. Three dark specks drifting into the clouds. We’re being watched!

  “Are you certain?” Boen pressed.

  The gentle cackle of their fire filled the background of the small vale they’d camped for the night in. Everyone gathered after a brief meal of old bread, dried meat, and what was left of a wheel of white cheese. Now they listened to Nothol explain what he believed he’d witnessed a few hours earlier.

  He nodded. “Absolutely. They were much too large to be birds, even the great condors of the higher peaks.”

  Bahr poked at the fire with a blackened stick. “What do you make of this, wizard?”

  “It could be something, might not be,” Anienam replied. “There aren’t many birds in this part of the world. Nor dragons or any such nonsense. I honestly don’t know what they are.”

  “Not exactl
y confidence inspiring, is he?” Maleela whispered to her uncle.

  Bahr suppressed a grin. “Hush girl. We’ve known we’re being followed for a while now. This might be the break we need.”

  “We know Badron is allied with dark powers, could they be some construct of the Dae’shan?” Rekka asked.

  “Possibly, but unless you can manage to shoot one down I can’t know for certain.” Anienam shook his head, frustrated at the continuing depth of the puzzle. Much of his plans were centered on speculation, preventing him from learning the truth in too many areas. Blinded, he had no choice but to carry on with his original plans. And pray they worked.

  Nothol shook his head. “No. They were much too high to shoot down.”

  Ionascu suddenly broke out in bitter laughter. His crippled hand thumped down on his thigh. “Fools. Run and hide. Stand and die. What difference does it make? The One Eye will find us and kill us all!”

  Boen’s fist clenched instinctively. He looked to Bahr. “Say the word and I’ll cave his skull in.”

  Bahr gently shook his head.

  “Violence is not the solution to every situation, Gaimosian,” Anienam scolded. “This man is damaged, broken in mind and body, but he may yet be of use to us.”

  “The big man goes down!” Ionascu cackled before ambling off to his bedroll.

  “I really don’t like him,” Boen grumbled.

  Ignoring him, Bahr asked, “What do we do about our spies? They’ll give us away the moment they figure out where we’re going.”

  The wizard shrugged. “What can we do? I have no spell that can bring them down. Deception will merely delay us to the point of failure.”

  “About that,” Bahr asked. “Are you certain you read that book correctly? Because according to your timeline we’re already late.”

  Anienam paused. He’d never considered being wrong; so few times in the past had he ever been. But Bahr brought a valid point. Perhaps he had misread the book. “I can certainly go back and reread it, but that’s not the issue at hand. I have concerns about those creatures Nothol claims to have seen.”

  “Saw,” Nothol corrected sharply.

  Anienam waved him off. “Irrelevant. There is a village not far from here. I think we should make for it and regroup. Perhaps that will throw our trackers off.”

  “Fine, but what do we do about him?” Bahr asked, pointing at Groge.

  The Giant lingered just outside of the range of the fire. Towering over everyone, he still didn’t feel comfortable being around them. Groge had never seen another species before and found he was fascinated by them. They bickered and argued like old friends. Bore grudges contrary to their actions. They made no sense to him. He found it all oddly refreshing. Life in the forges held so little variation.

  “I will remain in the forests,” Groge finally said. “Your kind will not take kindly to seeing me, if what our elders say is true.”

  “True enough. Giants are extremely rare these days,” Bahr said. “I think your best move is to remain hidden for as long as possible. We don’t need any more unwarranted attention.”

  Groge nodded, that feeling of seclusion steadily growing stronger. He wanted to be part of their group, part of something that mattered for a change, but his size and race set him out as the oddity. The idea was absurd. They needed him to wield the fabled Blud Hamr when the time came. They needed him. He found the idea comforting, but remained apprehensive. Humans were vastly different from his people. Certainly not what he imagined.

  “Rest up,” Bahr told the group. “We need to move quickly. I don’t want our spies to grow comfortable while we dither on what to do. I’ll take first watch. We leave in four hours.”

  FIVE

  Fedro

  Mired in the shadow of the mountains, Fedro was a largely forgotten village. Originally intended as a way station for travelers seeking to go over the mountains, the town quickly sprouted up and grew too far beyond its original intent. Bandits and thieves lined the streets hoping to fleece unsuspecting men and women. Worse, they often set ambushes in the foothills. The Murdes Mountains were lawless, a fact Bahr was counting on. The less law enforcement in the area the better. He knew Harnin would already have bounty hunters and worse scouring the neighboring kingdoms.

  Smoke rose from a hundred chimneys, choking the air with subtle pollution. The roads were wet and muddy, sprinkled with light snow. Trees and bushes lined them, giving Fedro a small touch of class. Most of the houses were made from pine, though a few brick homes were interspersed. Bahr suggested they were most likely the homes of merchants and factors. Most people weren’t rich enough to afford brick.

  Bahr guided them down the two-lane road past the shanty guard houses and into the heart of Fedro. They’d left Groge about a kilometer back in a heavy stand of oaks with enough food and water to last the next two days. He hadn’t put up an argument but stood with sad eyes as the others continued on.

  The size of the group drew stares and gawkers, more than Bahr or Anienam felt comfortable with. They’d been counting on secrecy but only succeeded in drawing attention to themselves. Bahr cursed, knowing he should have left the wagon with Groge and broken the group down into twos and threes. So many newcomers at once were bound to draw the wrong kinds of attention. Too late for that, he pushed them on to the nearest inn.

  They’d been on the road for weeks without a rest and a good night’s sleep with a roof over their heads was just what they needed to recharge. Leaving Nothol and Dorl to secure stable space for the horses and a berth for the wagon, he, Maleela, Anienam, and Skuld went in to get rooms and pay for their meals. Boen and Rekka went out through Fedro to scout the streets and identify potential escape routes should the need arise. Only broken Ionascu declined to accompany anyone and remained in the wagon bed, curled up under a pile of blankets.

  Dawn broke by the time they gathered together for breakfast in the common room. The smell of bacon cooking assaulted their senses, making stomachs growl. Heaps of apples and fresh cheese were brought out along with pitchers of ice cold mountain water and freshly made dark bread with jam. Bahr paid a little extra in order to have eggs as well, knowing they needed the protein. The group’s mood instantly improved and soon the room was alive with genuine laughter. Every care seemed forgotten, for the moment.

  The door opened suddenly, allowing a small child in, accompanied by a strong gust of wind. He walked right up to their table as if he’d known they were going to be there. “You are the Sea Wolf,” he stated to Bahr. “I have been sent with a message. The Old Mother wishes to see you. She has necessary knowledge to aid you in your quest.”

  “Go away, boy. We’ve no need for cheap parlor tricks this morn,” Boen frowned.

  Anienam waved a cautious hand at the Gaimosian. “Careful, Boen. This boy is more than he appears. You’re a taken, aren’t you?”

  The child cocked his head, studying the wizard. Recognition flashed in his dull, brown eyes. “We have met before, old one. Long ago, in a distant land. Does this new body throw you off? Perhaps you’d recall my previous form? An elderly man with no right eye in Alloenis.”

  “What devilry is this?” Bahr snarled, reaching for his sword.

  “Patience, Bahr. This is a very rare creature. They are known as taken, ancient souls that travel from body to body.”

  “Demons!”

  The taken laughed, a terrible hissing sound escaping grit teeth. “Your knowledge of the world is limited, Sea Wolf. My kind has walked these lands since the first dawn. We are neither angel nor demon. We simply…are. But that is unimportant. The Old Mother commands your audience and you would do well to follow.”

  Deflated, Bahr dropped his hand back on the table and leaned back in his chair. “Very well, taken, where can I find this Old Mother?”

  “Come with me, but only two may go. She is not one for large groups and the message will be diluted if there are more than two.” The taken edged back towards the door.

  “I do not like this,” Boen rumb
led.

  Rekka added, “I agree. He smells of foulness.”

  “The taken are many things but deceptive is not one of them. I shall accompany you,” Anienam said. “If what he says is true we have had dealings before.”

  “This smells bad, like Rekka said,” Dorl said. “Could be a trap.”

  “No, I have heard of this Old Mother. Some say she has visions. What she says might prove useful in the coming days,” the wizard said.

  Bahr finished the last of his eggs, the golden yolks running down the stubble on his chin. “Very well. Let us get this over with. I am anxious to be out of this town. And someone make sure Groge gets enough food. Wouldn’t do to let him starve out there.”

  The taken smiled and opened the door.

  Tucked away in a forgotten part of old Fedro, the Old Mother’s home was small and unassuming. Moss covered the walls to the roof. Vines and angry bushes lining the house set back most curious passersby. Candlelight glowed through the gloomy windows. Smoke gusted from the low chimney, dark and fetid. The taken ignored their cautious looks, leading the pair up to the front door.

  “I can go no further. The Old Mother awaits within,” it said.

  Bahr and Anienam exchanged wary glances but said nothing. Any ill that might happen was bound to whether they wanted it or not. By the time Bahr looked back to the taken it was gone. A dark cloud settled over his head. He started to speak but was cut off when the cottage door opened suddenly.

  “It seems we go in,” Anienam mused.

  On edge, Bahr grunted and pushed inside. His nose itched from the overpowering stench of so many herbs and spices. Gloom clung to walls and ceiling, impenetrable and oppressive. He immediately felt confined. He felt trapped in a cave. How can anyone choose to live like this? A lesser life might be had in better places.

  An ancient voice crept through the gloom. “You disparage my home, Bahr, son of Brogon.”