Raging Sea and Trembling Earth: Disciples of the Horned One Volume Two (Soul Force Saga Book 2) (7 page)

C
onnor slammed
the useless history book on the hard stone table. He’d been reading book after book for a week and had nothing to show for it beyond an intimate knowledge of the functioning of the western province’s economy. Why had anyone bothered to put such useless tomes in a hidden room? Unless a thief was suffering from insomnia he wouldn’t have any interest in them. No one would have any interest in them beyond a governor or other administrator.

Wait!

An administrator. Where was it? Connor flung aside several books until he found the one he sought. He rifled through page after page of lists until he found it, a list of high-value slaves sent to the palace. He scanned the columns of names and numbers until he reached a note at the end.
Included with this shipment: Three artifacts of unknown providence for storage in the palace vault.

The palace vault. If the artifact he sought was anywhere it would be in the vault. Connor collected his amulet from the niche in the wall. The hidden compartment slid shut, hiding the mirror away for however many hundreds of years it would take for another to find it.

Now that he had a destination Connor was eager to move on. He slipped the amulet around his neck and rushed up the stairs. His power had recovered, thank the Horned One. Some enchantment woven into the stone shielded the interior of the pyramid from the energy-draining effect outside.

He retraced his steps back to the exit, passing the snarling, still-trapped guardian as he went. The demon thrashed when he got close, but couldn’t escape the binding. Connor powered up his shield and stepped out into the desolate wasteland. Dry, acrid air parched his throat. Above, a dim spot of light showed where the sun struggled to penetrate the dismal clouds. A small winged silhouette passed in front of the light.

Connor frowned and turned back to reseal the pyramid. No bird would fly into the haunted lands. Animals had sense enough to avoid the unnatural place. If it wasn’t a bird—

A huge approaching power drew his gaze up in time to spot a black-scaled demon plunging toward the ground. Bat wings snapped open at the last second, flapped twice, and the beast settled light as a feather ten feet from Connor. Jagged horns jutted up from a head covered in bone spurs. Twin sanguine flames burned in deep-set sockets and a thick, reptilian tail thrashed behind it.

Connor tensed, ready to lash out. This monster easily overmatched the one he’d bound inside. If it came to a fight he wasn’t certain he’d win. That the demon didn’t attack at once argued a peaceful resolution remained possible. Unlikely, but possible.

“You serve the Horned One,” the demon said.

Connor nodded, equally surprised and relieved to be having a conversation and not fighting for his life. “That’s right. Do you?”

Bony lips peeled back, revealing three rows of razor-sharp teeth. “Focalor serves no master. I smelled the Horned One’s stench in your soul force.”

“Forgive my misunderstanding. I assume you want something since we’re having this pleasant conversation instead of killing each other.”

“As if you could harm Focalor. Focalor wishes to know what brings a puny mortal to this place.”

“I’m looking for something.”

“Focalor is looking for something as well. Focalor cannot gain access to the pyramids so his search has been frustrating. Perhaps Focalor and the warlock can help each other.”

A demon that wished to work with someone rather than kill them on the spot. Of all the wonders Connor had seen this one surprised him the most. Having a demon to help deal with guardians and traps would make his task much easier. Of course once the demon found what it wanted Connor’s lifespan would be measured in seconds. But if he didn’t agree to work with Focalor his life wouldn’t last much longer.

“That sounds like an excellent suggestion. I’m Connor, pleased to meet you. What, exactly, are we looking for?”

“Focalor seeks a way back to hell. He has wandered this world in search of a gate, but has found nothing. The pyramids are Focalor’s last hope of finding one.”

“If you wish to return to hell fly west until you find a great stone citadel. The holy warriors inside will be happy to kill you.”

The demon flexed its wings and tensed. For an instant Connor feared he’d made a horrible mistake, but Focalor didn’t spring and rend him limb from limb. It shook like a wet dog and sighed.

“Focalor does not wish to return in defeat, but to stride through a gate like a returning hero. The other demons will see how great Focalor is and fear and obey him.”

Even by demonic standards this creature was insane. It also seemed to be searching for the same thing as Connor. If the demon helped him find the crystal gate key Connor would be more than happy to let it pass through the portal.

“I’m seeking a gate key as well. It seems our interests are aligned. We work together to find the crystal and when the portal opens you go through and leave me in one piece to use it as I wish. Agreed?”

“This arrangement suits Focalor. Has the warlock found the key inside?”

“No, but I found a clue. I believe what we seek is in the Palace of Alexious.”

“Focalor has seen the palace, but a barrier prevents him from entering.”

Connor frowned. What sort of barrier would be strong enough to keep a demon as strong as Focalor out? And more importantly, would it also keep Connor out?

“Let’s go take a look.”

T
he ship creaked
as the sailors rushed to tie it up to the docks of Port Valcane. The flotilla had been within sight of Lookout Island when the archmage returned and told Velco the king approved of him docking in the kingdom and buying supplies. The captain had grinned and adjusted course away from the island. They had plenty of water and just enough food to make it. At his master’s order Damien had spent another ten days on the whalers’ ship eating dry meat, moldy bread, and sucking withered limes, but at last they’d reached the city.

Down on the dock his master and Lane stood patiently, waiting for the sailors to finish their work. Damien grinned and flew down to join them. Lane hugged him and kissed his stubbly cheek.

“This is a pleasant surprise,” Damien said when Lane stepped back.

“I asked Lane to serve as Captain Velco’s guide around the city,” the archmage said.

“I guess that fits within the area of diplomacy, though going from negotiating with barons to tour guide seems a bit of a demotion.”

“Yes, well, I wanted someone I trust keeping an eye on Velco. I’ve conscripted the city guard to help as well.”

“Mom also offered me dinner at the most expensive tavern in the city along with a guest of my choice.” Lane raised an eyebrow. “What do you say?”

“I’ve been eating moldy bread and dried mystery meat for ten days. If you offered me chowder and rolls at a corner shack I’d say yes.”

The gangplank clattered to the dock and Velco bounded down, ending their banter. He sighed when his feet hit the dock. “Good to be back in civilization.” He eyed Lane and smiled. “Who’s this lovely young lady?”

“This is Lane,” the archmage said. “She’s a member of our diplomatic corps and will serve as your guide.”

Velco chuckled. “My minder you mean.”

The archmage shrugged. “If you prefer. In any case she can answer your questions and show you where you can buy your supplies.”

“What about hiring more men?” Velco asked.

“We’d appreciate it if you didn’t try to recruit.”

Behind them a crowd had begun to gather on the nearest street. Shouts and the crack of a whip from a passing teamster opened a path which soon closed. The strange ships were drawing many curious looks.

“What about my men? After three months at sea they deserve some shore leave.”

“That’s fine, as long as they behave themselves. Understand that anyone breaking our laws will answer for it and most likely won’t be sailing with you.”

“These are all good lads, never fear. Any other advice or threats?”

The archmage shook her head. “No, but I’m sure I’ll see you again before you leave. Let’s go, Damien. Lane can handle it from here.”

Damien offered Lane a parting smile and followed his master off the dock. They walked in silence through the crowds, making their way toward the city center. Damien had to force himself to match his master’s pace. He wanted to hear what Uncle Andy thought about all this, but if the archmage didn’t want to talk in the street he couldn’t blame her.

They reached a large, three-story structure with guards constantly coming and going. No one challenged them as they pushed through a small side door and walked down a twisting hall. More than one guard paused as they went about their duties to stare at the passing sorcerers. At last they reached a room decorated with a large table covered with a map of the city, eight chairs, and not much else.

She shut the door behind them and a sound barrier fell into place. “Report.”

“They’re planning to try and kill the Leviathan. Apparently the sorcerers have convinced Velco they have the power to destroy the dragon. The captain thinks he’ll have access to unlimited hunting with the dragon gone.”

“What do you think? Does this mad scheme have any chance of success?”

“Not given the power of the sorcerer we met and I found nothing on board that might give them any advantage. I fear the good captain is leading his sailors to their deaths.”

She waved her hand in dismissal. “The sailors made their choice back in the Old Empire. My concern is whether they might anger the dragon so that it retaliates against us.”

Damien hadn’t even considered that possibility. “How could we know? I think the real question is: can we search their ships while the sailors are on shore leave? If they’re not hiding something this venture makes even less sense.”

“I prefer not to antagonize them if I can help it. Now that we know the crossing is possible and that the empire as our ancestors knew it doesn’t exist, merchants are going to want to start trading. If word reached the Old Empire that we didn’t treat visitors fairly it might end a profitable situation before it begins.”

“So what are we going to do?”

His master looked like she had swallowed something sour. “I’m afraid we’ll need to send someone along to look out for the kingdom’s best interests.”

Damien groaned. “Let me guess.”

“Sorry. I hoped Lane would ask you to join her. You deserve a good meal before you go back to sea.”

M
orana watched
from the crowd as sailors poured off the four strange ships. Mixed in with the common riffraff were Connor’s allies, three sorcerers from the Old Empire. Her master had been a little vague about who got in touch with whom, but the important thing was they had arrived and now Morana had to make contact.

A quick glance revealed three guards in uniform watching the ships. If there were three in uniform there were probably three or more times that many mixed in with the regular citizens. Connor said his people expected her to make contact; she just had to figure out how to draw their attention without alerting every guard in the area.

Two women and a man with no visible soul force walked down the ramps of the ships. That had to be them. They picked their way down Shore Street towards the city, bodies tense and gazes darting about. Morana followed along behind, not too close, just another person out for a walk. She glanced casually around, trying to spot anyone following the three sorcerers. No one stood out, but any of the people walking along the side of the road could be a guard out of uniform.

She clenched her teeth and gave it another minute. Still nothing stood out. If she wanted to accomplish anything she’d have to take a chance.

Morana picked up her pace and walked right past the three sorcerers. The man looked at her and when he did she flashed a horned skull symbol in the air in front of her chest where no one else could see it. His eyes widened and she nodded. Morana continued on toward the Drowned Rat, trusting the others would follow.

The run-down tavern made a perfect place to talk. The guards didn’t go there; if they did they’d end up floating facedown in the bay. It was too early in the day for much of a crowd and that worked against them. Not that it worried Morana one way or the other. She had an understanding with the bartender. He didn’t talk about Morana’s business and she didn’t kill him.

The Rat slumped on the corner of Shore and Tide. Two stories tall and fifty feet wide, the tavern doubled as a two-copper whorehouse. Since it was before noon, the working girls were probably still asleep. Morana pushed through the swinging doors, nodded to the bartender, and slipped into her usual booth at the back of the common room. The table wobbled, forcing her to slide the little wedge of wood back under the busted leg. A pair of drunks snoring under the biggest table in the center of the room were the only other guests.

A minute later the three sorcerers entered, spotted Morana, and made their way across the room, careful to avoid stepping in any of the nastier pools of liquid on the bare plank floor. The three of them sat on the bench across from Morana. No serving maid bothered them. The Rat was strictly self-serve.

One of the three conjured a sound barrier. When it surrounded them the man said, “You’re our contact?”

“Connor sends his regards. Everything is on schedule?”

“Yes, we will collect the dragon’s soul force as agreed.”

“The captain has no idea what you truly intend?”

“He doesn’t care. As long as the Leviathan dies and he can hunt his precious whales the captain is uninterested in any other details. It would be useful if we had a few extra men loyal to us in case things should go awry.”

The two female sorcerers had said nothing up to this point, seeming content to stare at Morana. She shuddered. The women had blank, doll-like expressions. They almost didn’t look human. Morana had never seen anything like it.

Not her concern. At least now she had a use for the few Unkindness members that had survived her reminder of their loyalties.

“I have six men that should suit your needs perfectly. When should I send them over?”

“The woman that spoke for your kingdom asked the captain not to recruit from the populace. She said nothing about volunteers who offered to go on their own. Send them to the docks tomorrow morning. We’ll handle the rest.”