The Wyrmling Horde

25

It seemed to Rhianna that she had been running for days when they neared Castle Coorm. Darkness still enveloped the world. With twenty endowments of metabolism, she knew that the darkness would stretch on endlessly. Ten hours of darkness would seem like two hundred, and she would suffer beneath the pall.

Then the sun would come out, and every day would feel like an endless summer.

But she feared that Fallion would never see a summer again. He was growing worse by the minute. He lay in the back of the wagon, his face blanched with pain. Sometimes when Rhianna glanced in, she saw him staring up at some private horror.

There is no escape for him, she thought.

They were sprinting across the grasslands, heading toward a line of trees, when they met the Wizard Sisel and Lord Erringale. It was as if the two appeared out of nowhere. Rhianna had a dozen endowments of sight, and should have seen them miles away, but the wizard and his charge seemed to spring up from the oat stubble magically, not twenty yards in front of them.

"Halt!" Sisel cried, smiling in greeting. Rhianna realized that he had been using his protective magic to hide himself as he moved. In the distance to the north and west, lightning flashed, though the stars overhead shone brightly and there was not a sign of clouds. She realized that the Darkling Glories had found their trail over the plains. "There is no need to go to the tree," the wizard said mournfully. "The enemy has struck it down."

The wizard s words seemed painfully slow. Rhianna s thoughts raced so quickly, she could hardly stand to wait for him to speak.

"Let us leave this world then," Daylan Hammer said, "for there are Darkling Glories on our trail-or worse."

Rhianna could see the "or worse." Miles and miles away, on the horizon, a dark knot winged toward them. An enormous graak, its elongated body looking like a black worm, undulated through the sky. Pale riders sat upon its back, no less than a dozen of them-wyrmling warriors in their armor of bone.

To either side of the graak, a pair of fliers came, crimson wings flashing in the pale moonlight, hurtling above and around the slower graak, like starlings harrying some ponderous owl.

Rhianna jutted her chin. "Vulgnash is coming. I see him, miles away. He s heading straight toward us." She hesitated. "He s flying fast. He has taken endowments."

"I don t understand," Fallon said. "How can he take them? Endowments are gifts from the living to the living."

The Wizard Sisel said, "Life and death are a matter of degree. A man who is dying can be less than half alive. Vulgnash is not a living creature like you and me. It is said that he has no soul-yet I am forced to wonder… He animates a body, emulates life. To me this indicates that he does have a soul, a powerful and gifted soul."

"It sounds to me as if there is a contradiction here," the emir said, "fit to baffle a wizard."

"At the very least," Sisel said, "he does have a body, unlike the wights that he serves, and so our Vulgnash can take endowments…"

A sudden light filled Sisel s eyes, as if some insight filled his mind, but rather than voice it, he held silent, and pondered.

Talon looked stricken. She peered north, and said, "So soon? How does he know where to look?"

The others only stared blankly, but Rhianna s thoughts spun ahead. "If he were following our trail, he should be coming from behind us. He knows exactly where to look." She turned to Fallion. There was no accusation in her voice, only regret. "Lord Despair has chosen you," she told Fallion. "That s the only explanation. I don t believe that Vulgnash is coming this way out of dumb luck."

Fallion looked crestfallen.

"Is that true?" Sisel asked. "Did he choose you?"

Fallion looked around blankly, his face lined with pain. "I, I don t know. I was unconscious much of the time. I sometimes woke to pain and torture, and I recall seeing Despair standing over me, grinning down at me. But I don t remember him choosing me. I don t recall anything at all. But…"

"What?" Rhianna asked gently.

"A while ago I heard a voice," he said, "Despair s voice-or thought that I did." Fallion looked to the ground. "I thought I was just hearing things: it was a warning. I was told not to fight. I was told that if I surrendered, Despair would not take vengeance upon you."

Now there was no doubt in Rhianna s mind that Fallion had been chosen. If I were Lord Despair and I wanted to keep track of a prisoner, I would choose him, she thought. Then Fallion could not escape, could not take his own life, without me being warned.

Daylan turned to Lord Erringale. "Milord," he said humbly, "I beg your help." He then explained all that was happening-how the Darkling Glories had come to this world, the danger that Fallion was in, and the greater danger that he posed. "We need sanctuary. I ask that you grant it for a little while, upon your world, if you can."

Erringale frowned and looked to the ground. In the distance, there was a rumbling and flash of light to the east.

"You propose to hide Fallion upon my world?" Erringale asked.

"Yes," Daylan answered.

"Won t this false Earth King be able to find him?" Erringale asked. "How do we know that Fallion won t bring danger to all that love him?"

"It is a chance that we must take," Daylan said.

"No!" Fallion said vehemently. "I can t go with you, Daylan. Too many of my people would be made to suffer for my sake."

"Then what do you want to do?" Rhianna asked. Fallion was the one in pain. She wanted to save him. She would do anything that he asked.

"Send me back," he said. "I won t put my friends in jeopardy."

"You can t go back," the emir said. "Despair will continue to torture you. Just when you think that it could get no worse, it will. No one can bear such torment forever. In time, Despair will either drive you mad, or win you and make you his tool."

Fallion shook his head. "Having seen Despair, how could I ever consent to become like him?" He looked to Lord Erringale. "You were there: you know how Despair was formed. The more that Yaleen felt others pain, the more she hated them. But I m different. The more I feel their pain, the more I care for them."

For once, Talon s thoughts outraced Rhianna s. "Fallion, if you return to Despair," Talon said, "all that you have hoped for will be lost. You will never be able to bind the worlds into one."

Fallion considered his response thoughtfully. His face was filled with pain and anguish. Despair almost had him. "How can I hope to bind the worlds now," he begged, "after seeing what horrors I have wrought?"

Perhaps I should kill him, Rhianna thought. Despair has already won. I could put him out of his misery.

And if I do, she realized, what will happen to Fallion s Dedicates?

The pains that he now bears will return to them in full-the horror of their mutilations, their grief and terror.

Fallion knows that. He stands between them and their pain. He can t give it back to them.

No true man would, she thought. For then Despair, in his fury and petulance, would subject them to unspeakable horrors.

Rhianna considered the arguments, and she knew that she could not kill Fallion anyway, even to save him from his torment. She was a strong woman, but she didn t have that kind of strength.

"There may be a way," Erringale suggested to the group, hope rising in his voice, "to turn the tables on Lord Despair-if we dare try it!"

Erringale looked to Fallion. "To resist evil, we almost never need to resort to bloodshed. Let me ask, could you teach another how to bind the worlds?"

"Perhaps," Fallion said uncertainly. "It would be hard, but I could try. It would have to be a flameweaver of great power, but in time, yes, I think I could teach someone."

Erringale s eyes shifted, focused upon the emir. "There is a flameweaver among us, one who has come to help you. Upon your world, his shadow was the greatest flameweaver your kind has ever known, but upon his world he has shunned such power. Fallion, I would like you to meet the shadow of Raj Ahten."

Fallion peered up at the emir, and his eyes went wide.

Rhianna knew what he was thinking. There was distrust written plainly upon Fallion s face.

"He s a good man," Talon said. "He s nothing like the Raj Ahten that our fathers slew. He s risked his life for his people time and time again, proven himself over and over. If there is anyone you can trust with your secret, it is Tuul Ra."

Fallion shook his head, unconvinced. But he had little in the way of choices.

"The enemy will be here soon," Lord Erringale said. "We must be prepared to meet them. Come with me, Fallion, Tuul Ra. Let us prepare." Lord Erringale nodded toward the hill nearby, covered with oaks and elms.

"We won t have time," Fallion said. "It might take days or weeks to teach him what he needs to know."

"Trust me," Lord Erringale said. "You two will have all of the time you need."

Fallion shook his head. "I can t walk that far. The pain is too great. Every muscle in my body is cramping."

"I ll help," Erringale said, and he went to the wagon and began to help Fallion down.

Rhianna wondered, What is Erringale plotting?

The Wizard Sisel strode forward a pace, his russet robes whispering in the dry grass, and peered north hungrily. So often, Rhianna had seen him with a serene smile on his face. She would have thought that nothing could remove it. But now he glared toward the skyline like one eager to do battle.

"I think that Erringale is right," the wizard said. "There are ways to resist evil without resorting to bloodshed. The time has come for me to deal with Vulgnash."

Vulgnash spotted his prey ahead, saw Fallion standing in a field near the tree line on a wooded hill, miles away.

Fallion was hunched over, arms folded over his stomach, in almost a fetal position. His face was gray and haggard from pain, and his hair was unkempt. The journey had taken its toll on him. He looked weaker than a kitten.

For the past half hour, Vulgnash had had endowments vectored to him-metabolism, sight. Vulgnash s endowments of sight were a marvelous thing. For ages, he d seen all of the world in shades of gray, with an occasional splash of red. He d never seen the world through a human s eyes.

But suddenly he could espy colors that he d never dreamed existed-skies of deepest blue and undiscovered stars of gold glimmering above, powdering the heavens.

He suspected that if he took a human body in the future, he might see colors even more vividly.

Never again, he thought, will I take a wyrmling s body. From now on, when I need to commandeer a new shell, I will always take a human form.

He could see other advantages. It wasn t just the sight. The human fliers, with their smaller weight, were faster than him.

Vulgnash hastened forward, wings flapping in a rush. He heard a throaty grooak, and peered back. The enormous graak had fallen far behind.

I need them not, he thought. The wyrmling warriors had their place. They could bind the prisoners once Vulgnash secured them.

Yet Vulgnash worried about a trap. He saw Fallion waiting in the grass ahead, but not the woman who had rescued him.

Even as he worried about her, she came swooping up over the hill, speeding toward him, faster than any falcon, her wings blurring.

She moved at a frightening pace. Before he realized it, she was overtaking him-two miles out, then one.

But Vulgnash had more than endowments to his credit. He stretched forth his hand and drew starlight from the sky. From horizon to horizon, darkness suddenly stretched, while a thin light whirled like a tornado out of the skies, and landed blazing hot in his palm.

When the darkness faded, he peered ahead, but saw no sign of Rhianna.

She has dived into the trees, Vulgnash reasoned. Smart girl.

He peered down and ahead, where a copse of elms rose beside a stream, their canopy of leaves shielding the ground from view.

He searched for signs of movement, hoping that she had veered into a tree, that its swaying branches would betray her.

But he saw nothing. Dimly, he became aware of shouting far behind. Wyrmlings were roaring frantically.

He craned his neck, looking back. The girl was behind him!

She redoubled her speed during that moment of darkness, he realized.

And now she was winging toward the giant graak, like a falcon to the nest of a dove.

Now we shall see how the wyrmling warriors fare! Vulgnash thought. He had hated bringing them. They and their mount only slowed him down. He longed to see them fail, these fierce champions rife with endowments, all under the protection of their master.

But Rhianna did not dare engage them. She flew straight toward their graak, hurtling in with an astonishing burst of speed, and then dropped as she neared. The warriors hurled battle darts.

She fell, dodging missiles, and the enormous black graak snapped at her as she passed.

Then Rhianna s wings unfolded and she was rising again.

Vulgnash saw a flash of silver as her blade struck the monster s right wing, slicing the leathery membrane between its bones.

The huge graak roared in pain; instantly it began to fall, unable to bear its weight. The graak dropped, flapping frantically, spinning out of control. Wyrmling warriors cried out and fought to hold on, though some tumbled from their mount, raining from the sky.

After downing the graak, Rhianna went soaring upward, wings flapping so quickly that she made a vertical climb.

The girl has learned to fly well in two days, Vulgnash realized, better than I would have imagined.

Some of that had to do with her endowments of wit, he suspected. She would learn much more quickly, when she recalled every twinge of every muscle.

Part of it was her small size. The large wings gave her greater lift than a wyrmling, and allowed for acrobatics that Vulgnash would never master.

But he suspected that there had to be more to it. The girl had tremendous reflexes. In part she might have been born with them, but they had also been trained through years of battle practice.

Yet she did not press the attack. She hurtled around him in a wide circle, and went winging off into the distance.

She fears me, Vulgnash suddenly realized. She is nothing.

She didn t dare get near him. She was hoping that he d give chase. She was only seeking to distract him, delay him.

He whirled and peered forward. Sure enough, Fallion and the others had fled the clearing and gone into the trees.

Vulgnash growled in frustration, and redoubled his speed, racing toward the meadow at the base of the hill.

As he neared, he spotted movement in the trees.

The Wizard Sisel hid there, between the boles of two mighty elms, with Fallion at his back.

The ground was clear beneath him, except for a carpet of desiccated leaves. The wizard raised his staff in hand and held it at one end, swinging it in great arcs like a club, muttering an incantation.

He hopes to cast a spell of some kind, Vulgnash realized, but Vulgnash had no fear. Vulgnash was under the Earth King s protection. If Sisel were going to attack, Vulgnash would have heard his master s warning.

The old wizard knew many tricks, but his spells were all about healing and protection. At the best, he might hope to avert Vulgnash s fireball.

Vulgnash glided toward the pair warily, like an eagle on the wing.

He could hear the wizard shouting his incantation:

Bright flows your blood.

And hale are your bones.

Your heart is no longer a heart of stone.

Light fills your eyes, and brightens your mind with longings common to all mankind.

Suddenly the wizard whirled and pointed his staff, and though Vulgnash was still a quarter of a mile away, too far to hurl a fireball, the effects of Sisel s spell were devastating.

A force smashed into him, like a powerful wave that smote him and washed through him. The blow was minor, not much greater than he d feel if a gust of wind hit him.

But in an instant, the world changed.

Vulgnash suddenly felt a powerful need for air.

In five thousand years, he had never drawn a single breath, and it was as if his body recognized this fact, and filled him with a singular craving.

At the same time, he was assailed by a consuming hunger. He had never eaten as humans do. He had always drawn his life force from others when the need arose. But instantly he realized that his belly seemed to be clinging to his backbone.

More than that, there was a tremendous pounding in his chest as his heart burst into motion, and every sense came alive. He felt warm wind streaming through his hair, and every follicle of it was alive. For the first time he tasted the smell of the earth-the rich humus of the forest nearby and the drying grasses of the fields below.

His own robes held the cloying scent of death, of decaying flesh, and he d never recognized his own reek.

A tremendous thirst overtook him, for he had never tasted water, and suddenly the mucus in his throat seemed drier than sand.

In shock, Vulgnash peered ahead and saw that the spell had cost the Wizard Sisel dearly. Where once his robes had been russet and burnt umber, the colors of dying leaves, suddenly they had gone as white as snow, while his beard and hair had turned to silver.

He now leaned on his staff, gasping, as if he had just run a tremendous race.

The pain that Vulgnash felt was more than he could bear. Vulgnash wailed in torment and lobbed the fireball from his hand, sent it careering toward the wizard. But he had thrown too soon. The fireball raced forward a hundred yards, then began to expand, growing larger and larger, and slowing with every second. By the time it reached the trees, it had become nothing more than a cloud of burning gas, and the wizard turned and fled, disappearing from sight.

Vulgnash went wheeling down to the earth, slamming into a tree, then falling in a tangle.

He hit the ground, and such an overwhelming feeling of illness coursed through him that he was reeling with pain.

I m alive! he realized. I m mortal.

He climbed to his knees and peered at his hands, as if he d never seen them before. There were holes in his arm where maggots had burrowed into his flesh, and everywhere that he had a hole, the pain was white-hot and magnificent.

Lying on his belly, Vulgnash collapsed among the dead leaves on the forest floor, smelling the rot of decomposing humus, the scent of mold and soil.

Blood had begun to flow from the wormholes in his arms, welling up unexpectedly.

Vulgnash folded his arms in close, and sat for a moment, rocking back and forth, mind racing.

I m mortal, he realized. I m undone.

His heart hammered with excitement; emotions that he d never felt before assailed him-dread, hopelessness, fatigue. He d never realized how powerful and incapacitating human emotions could be.

I m mortal.

It was like a slow poison.

I might live for a few years, he realized, but I will surely die.

In fact, he wasn t sure that he could live even a few hours more.

How old am I? he wondered. He had existed for five thousand years, given a semblance of life from the time that he was a stillborn child, strangled first, then stripped from his mother s womb.

No human lived so long, and indeed he had sent his consciousness through hundreds of corpses.

So if he had suffered a mortal s fate, he would have died of old age by now.

How old is the body I ve taken?

He did not know. He had taken the corpse from a tomb, where it had lain rotting. The hands looked old-with thick veins and dark patches of liver spots.

How had it died? Vulgnash wondered. There were no wounds upon the corpse, no gashes from an ax, no broken bones. Vulgnash had checked for such things before taking it.

Had it died of disease-a hacking cough, a weakness of the heart?

He had no way of knowing.

Whatever killed the previous owner could kill me, Vulgnash realized. I could die any second.

Few weapons had ever been formed that could slay a Knight Eternal. Now Vulgnash felt vulnerable.

A voice rang out from the trees. Vulgnash peered up, but could not find the source of it. It was as if the woods spoke to him, not some man. Yet it was a human voice, the crowing voice of the Wizard Sisel. "Vulgnash," he shouted. "How does it feel to be mortal?"

"Why?" Vulgnash screamed, peering this way and that, trying to find the source of the call. But all that he saw were the gray boles of trees, spotted with lichens and moss.

"You have taken countless lives," Sisel called. "And the thought occurred to me-how can he value that which he has never owned?"

Vulgnash tried to clear the phlegm from his throat, for it was thick and crusty. He wanted to shout some curse, but a great weariness was on him. He had not slept in days.

"So," Sisel said, "consider now your allegiance. You were a servant of death. Your masters fed you till you grew strong by consuming innocent souls.

"But think: there in that empire of death, what can they offer you now?

"I invite you to join us, to switch your allegiance. I can heal your wounds, help you."

There were no words to express Vulgnash s outrage. He knew curses that he could hurl, but they would do no good. He peered about frantically, searching for some sign of the wizard, but the woods were still and empty.

He peered up, realizing that the voice might have been coming from above.

At last, panting from weakness and despair, Vulgnash roared his defiance. "Never!" he cried. "I come for you, by all that is unholy I shall have you!"

Cramped with pain, Fallion Orden hugged Rhianna good-bye. They stood in the deep woods not two hundred yards from where Vulgnash roared, hidden by little more than the Wizard Sisel s spell. Behind Rhianna, a door to the netherworld yawned wide.

It was a solemn moment. Fallion did not know if he would ever see his friends again.

For her part, Rhianna stood before him, shaking, looking so weak that he thought she might swoon. All of her endowments had failed her. None gave her the strength for this moment.

"I love you," she said. "More than you can ever know."

Fallion hugged her hard. His body told him that he was being torn apart-that teeth were shattering in his head, that ears were being stripped into ragged bits, that skin was being pulled from his face by some brute who wielded powerful tongs.

But he also felt Rhianna s yielding flesh, and knew that her fierce love was true. That memory would have to suffice. It would have to be something he held on to in the weeks and years to come.

"I should have married you by now," Fallion told her. "I should never have waited, or entertained other thoughts. I should have seen that you were my destiny."

Rhianna wept bitter tears on his shoulder, and kissed him good-bye. It did not seem like a long kiss. Had she had a week to hold him, it could not have been long enough.

She has twenty endowments of metabolism, he realized. To her it seems long enough.

Grimacing in pain, Rhianna reached up and covered her belly with one hand.

"What s wrong?" he asked.

Rhianna shook her head in anguish, then apologized. "I think that some Darkling Glories just found my Dedicates."

There was such sorrow in her face that Fallion wished that he could take one more endowment of compassion, take upon himself all of her pain.

Talon stepped forward and hugged him briefly with one arm. She d taken the little girl from the wagon, and now held the sleeping child.

"At least we have saved something from this world," Fallion told her.

Daylan clapped him on the shoulder, and offered a bit of advice. "You cannot break free, but here is something that might help. The emperor s daughter, Princess Kan-hazur, will weaken over the coming days. While in our prison at Caer Luciare, she was poisoned with red-wort. Its effects can kill her as she withdraws from it. I know that you cannot break free, but perhaps this information will be of use to you. You may be able to barter for favors-for leniency toward your Dedicates."

Last of all came the emir. He did not speak. He did not need to. They were more than brothers now, for they were joined with a special bond. Each of them bore the scars of a fresh endowment of wit. Fallion s own scar was upon the heel of his right foot, where he hoped it might never be seen.

I will be with you, my friend, the emir whispered into Fallion s mind. Through all of your trials, I will be there to advise you, to console you.

And I will guide you as best I can, Fallion offered in return, when you seek out the Seals of Creation, and bind the worlds into one.

The emir clasped Fallion on the shoulder, and nodded.

Moments later, Fallion s friends were gone, stepping one by one into a brighter world, where the wind blew sweeter scents.

Fallion turned and walked through the brush, partly hunched and racked by pain, until he found Vulgnash there in the leaves, driven to his knees.

Fallion dared not fight him. Fallion had his skills as a flameweaver, skills that Vulgnash could never match. But they did not lend themselves to battle. Besides, Vulgnash was a powerful Runelord.

"I m ready to return to your master," Fallion said.

Vulgnash glared at him with murderous eyes. The great wyrmling in his red robes looked different now. His gray skin had fleshy hues to it, and there were emotions in his eyes that Fallion had never seen before-rage, self-pity, hurt.

"Where are the others?" Vulgnash roared.

"They ve gone where you cannot find them," Fallion said.

Quicker than a snake, Vulgnash reached out a hand and stripped the heat from Fallion s body. He felt himself falling, falling, as if into a sea of ice.

Back in Rugassa, Lord Despair stood upon the gargoyle outside his rooms. He peered down upon his minions, toiling in the dark fields, and smiled.

Lightning flashed above Mount Rugassa, and thunder pealed.

All was right with the world. The city of Rugassa lay beneath a dark cloud, one that would never lift. The Darkling Glories had put a pall over the city, so that for miles around, the night would never end.

Thousands of the creatures were streaming through the world gate, eager to hear his command, while the Thissians instructed them.

To the south, armies of reavers were marching toward him. Yet Lord Despair felt no fear. He had sent a Thissian ambassador to communicate with them, to invite them to join him, and the reavers would bow down to him and obey.

The Earth Spirit whispered peace to his soul, and Despair had no fear.

Only the small folk of the world presented any threat now, and that threat was dissipating too.

Darkling Glories were already flying in every direction, hunting down the small folk, looking for those who might have given themselves to his enemies as Dedicates.

Within a matter of days, the entire world would be under his sway.

The little mouse in the back of his skull fretted and squeaked its imprecations. "Your dying amuses me, Areth," Despair whispered. "Draw it out for as long as you like."

Despair smiled. He could sense Fallion. At this very moment, the young man was on his way home.