Synopsis | Reviews | Excerpt
Invictus, the god-like sorcerer, has finally
been defeated. Torg and Laylah are safe . . . or so it seems . . .
But now the wizard and sorceress face another
daunting challenge. Laylah's unborn child is growing abnormally fast—and he
wields power even from her womb. A new horror is about to be born into the
world. Are all who live on Triken in terrible danger again?
In the climactic conclusion of The Death Wizard Chronicles, Torg and
Laylah are forced to fight for their freedom one final time.
Jim Melvin
is the author of the six-book epic fantasy The Death Wizard Chronicles.
He was an award-winning journalist at the St.
Petersburg Times for twenty-five years. As a reporter, he
specialized in science, nature, health, and fitness, and he wrote about
everything from childhood drowning to erupting volcanoes. Jim is a student of
Eastern philosophy and mindfulness meditation, both of which he weaves
extensively into his work. Jim lives in Upstate South Carolina in the foothills
of the mountains. He’s married and has five daughters. Visit him at: jim-melvin.com
and facebook.com/TheDeathWizardChronicles.
Coming soon!
Gift of darkness
1
DAWN NEVER ARRIVED. The unnatural darkness
rushed over them and hungrily consumed the stars. But on the battlements of
Hakam, Ott, and Balak, there was light aplenty. Large quantities of Maōi, worth a fortune times a fortune,
had been arranged along the wall walks and set aglow. The milky illumination
sprang into the opaque firmament like a spear. Elu guessed that it could be
seen for dozens of leagues.
None among them comprehended the purpose
of the blue-black cloud. Certainly this was an event unheard of in all of
recorded history, as frightening as it was mysterious. The cloud had surged
toward the fortress from the direction of Avici; therefore most saw it as yet
another evil creation of Invictus. But Elu wasn’t so certain. What sense did it
make for a Sun God to give birth to darkness?
The Svakaran wished that Torg, Jord, or
Peta were around to shed some light of their own. He hadn’t seen the wizard or
Faerie since their encounter at Lake Hadaya, and the ghost-child Peta had since
departed the fortress, leaving Elu and Ugga alone. Though the Nissayans had
been friendly and even servile, the Svakaran still felt lonely. Recently he had
buried his best friend in the world with his own hands; another man he had
grown to love was no longer a man; and the rest of his friends— those who still
lived—were scattered far and wide. It was enough to make Elu want to cast
himself off Hakam.
The bear nuzzled the Svakaran’s hand with
his wet nose. Elu looked at him and offered a sad smile. The beast’s small eyes
resembled Ugga’s in eerie fashion, containing the same gentle expressiveness.
"I wish you could speak,” Elu said. "You
always had a way of warming the hearts of those around you. Few have such
skill. I miss you so much, my dear friend.”
The bear snorted, and then to the
Svakaran’s surprise stood up on his hind limbs and wrapped his front paws
around Elu’s neck. There were gasps and shouts of dismay from nearby knights,
but these soon changed to laughter when the bear leaned down and began to lap
his companion’s face like an overexcited dog. Elu squirmed and spluttered but
lacked the strength to push the beast away. Finally Ugga stopped of his own
accord and dropped back down. Then he sat and stared, his long red tongue
lolling goofily.
"You see!” Elu said, wiping a gob of
spittle off his face. "Even now you’ve found a way to cheer me up.”
The bear yawned, laid his snout on the
black stone, and fell instantly asleep. Elu studied him for a moment and then
resumed his silent stance, staring outward into the pitch darkness. The light
from the Maōi created the same effect as a well-lighted room at night;
if you looked out a window, you were blind to anything beyond the length of
your arm.
A black knight approached the Svakaran.
Essīkka was her name, and earlier she had provided him with a change of
clothing and then offered to outfit him in black armor, the latter of which Elu
had refused. Ever since, she had hovered nearby, as if assigned to keep watch
on him and the bear. But the Svakaran suspected otherwise. When Essīkka raised
the visor of her helm, there was a glint in her eye. Before the vines had
gotten hold of Elu, his physical appearance had pleased most women. Apparently
the return to his original body was not without benefits, even if he wasn’t
quite as happy-go-lucky as he used to be.
"How did you know?” Essīkka said.
"Know what?” Elu said.
"That the darkness was coming. You must
have known, or you would not have ordered us to display the Maōi.”
Elu snorted. "I would never ordersuch great knights to do anything. I barely had the courage to ask politely. As
for knowing in advance, I can’t lay claim to that. The girl is the one who
knows everything. I just did what she told me.”
"Is the child a witch or demon? One moment
I was staring at her, the next she was gone... poof!”
"Whatever she is, bad isn’t part of it.”
Essīkka removed her helm and placed it in
the crook of her arm. Her long black hair swirled in the chilly breeze. Despite
her armor and the thick padding beneath it, she shivered and leaned closer to
Elu.
"So many are dead,” she said in a near
whisper. "My mother, father, and two of my three brothers were slaughtered by
newborns at Nissaya, and my remaining brother never returned from the Green
Plains. I am alone in the world, as are many. At least I am unwed and without
children. I could not have borne to see my husband, sons, and daughters
butchered in such horrible fashion.”
"I am truly sorry,” Elu said. "For what
little it’s worth, I too have lost many who were dear to me.”
Essīkka removed one of her gauntlets and
wiped tears from her eyes. "I am alone,” she repeated, then brushed the side of
his face with her damp fingertips.
Elu did not respond, but neither did he
draw away. She was beautiful, after all.
They stood together above the gate of
Hakam and watched as a trickle of people, attracted by the light, entered the
fortress and gathered in the courtyard inside the third bulwark.
"They are standing just a few paces from
where the snow giant fell,” Essīkka said. "When the time comes and this evil is
no longer, Nissaya would be wise to turn the ‘death area’ into a shrine. But we
are too exhausted to consider such things now. The great gates must be
repaired and peace restored before we will have the strength to turn to other
matters.”
Elu shivered. The air seemed to grow
colder with every breath he took. "I never met Yama-Utu, but Torg spoke highly
of him at the Privy Council in Jivita. It was a terrible loss—yet one among
many. In just a few weeks, I have seen more horrors than I could have believed
possible.”
"As have I,” Essīkka said. "Yet I have
never felt more alive than I do at this moment.”
Then she leaned forward and kissed Elu on
the mouth. When she finally backed away, the Svakaran could see the
reflections of Maōi glittering in her irises, which were as black as her
hair and skin.
"You have been long on the wall,” she
said. "You must be hungry and tired. Will you accompany me to my chambers?
There is a pen nearby that I believe the great bear will find comfortable. I am
sure I will be given permission to leave my post for a spell, as long as you
are with me.”
Then she took his hand.
Elu did not resist.
2
PODHANA, SIX THOUSAND Tugars, and one
thousand Pabbajja marched tirelessly through the night. Near dawn, they came
within ten leagues of Avici, an impressive feat in the new chieftain’s opinion,
especially considering that the Homeless People’s legs were shorter than his
forearms. Or at least so he guessed. With all that hair, their feetweren’t even visible.
Much to the large company’s dismay, there
was no sunrise. The impenetrable cloud that rushed toward them from the east
fell across the sky like a blue-black blanket. If not for the Pabbajja’s
magical tridents, the company would have been cast into darkness only demons
could have navigated. As it was, the humming glow of the three-tined staffs
only provided enough light to see for a stone’s throw beyond the main
gathering. Podhana pondered what it would be like to be trapped alone in such
darkness. Was this how it felt to be blind?
Holding his trident like a torch, Bruugash
walked over to Podhana. "What is this darkness, Kantaara Yodhas? Has the
sorcerer inflicted Triken with further malice?”
"I don’t believe this is the work of the
sorcerer,” Podhana said. "If we’re lucky, it is the opposite. I believe The
Torgon has played a role. In the past, I have inhaled my king’s breath.
This air smells like Death Energy.”
"There is Demon Energy as well, blended in
with the other,” the Pabbajja overlord said. "Yet I agree with what you say:
The cloud does not feel entirely evil. Somehow we are shielded from danger.”
"Regardless of the cloud’s intent, I will
continue toward the Golden City,” Podhana said. "The Tugars need the Pabbajja
more than ever. Overlord, will your people light our way?”
"It would be our honor,” Bruugash said.
Now the going was slower, as it was no
longer wise to run heedlessly, even with the strong bones of Iddhi-Pada
beneath their feet. Podhana guessed that it was late morning before the large
company stumbled first upon the roaring rage of the Ogha River and then the
southern gates of Avici. What they found there amazed Podhana even more than
the unnatural darkness.
3
AFTER THE BATTLE with the fiends inside the
gates of Avici, things quieted down considerably, and Asēkha-Rati finally was
able to take a breath. But small numbers of snarling monsters still sprang
sporadically from the darkness. Rati counted groups of three, nine, four,
seven, nine, and six interspersed with thirty-seven loners—all dispatched by
the Tugars with their usual efficiency.
The Svakarans and Bhasurans grew restless,
wanting to do something other than guard gates unchallenged from either side.
Rati countered by telling the Mahaggatans that they were free to go wherever
they chose, even back to the palisade at the base of Uccheda. But the Tugars
would not follow. Though Rati still believed it possible that Laylah was
trapped inside the edifice, he knew that it would be suicide to attempt to
enter a tower that several hundred thousand monsters still surrounded.
"Help is on the way,” Rati said to them
all, not entirely believing it himself, but knowing that additional assistance
was their only hope of assaulting the stronghold of the sorcerer.
Gorlong pounded the tail of his trident on
the golden wall walk, casting angry sparks. "The leader of the Kantaara
Yodhas speaks the truth,” the Pabbajja said. "Help is on the way,
and I sense that it includes a large company of my own people.”
"We will wait only until dawn,” a Svakaran
warlord said.
Rati shrugged. "I do not presume to
command you or your people.”
All through the night they lingered by the
southern gates. There was no shortage of food and wine, as many of the nearby
homes and businesses were well-stocked. Rati reluctantly permitted
half-a-dozen fires to be built near the banks of the river, where they quickly
could be extinguished. But even then, no more of the enemy appeared.
As morning approached, the fires burned
out, and almost everyone went to sleep, some on the wall walk, some on the
stairs, and the rest along the base of the bulwark. The Tugars did not sleep,
choosing instead to meditate with open eyes, which in many ways was more
rejuvenating to their bodies than slumber. In the meantime, they remained
alert to anyone who might attempt to accost the company.
Rati watched with
amusement as Tew and Dhītar snuck into a storeroom on the wall walk and locked
the door. When they finally emerged, both looked worse for wear, except for the
weary smiles on their faces.
Rati anticipated the arrival of dawn with
a combination of hopefulness and dread. At least in the light they would be
able to see long distances from the top of the towering bridge, revealing both
the city to the north and a long stretch of Iddhi-Pada to the south. However,
he and the others also would be more visible to the enemy.
When the black cloud unexpectedly chewed
its way across the sky, this amazed Rati as much as anyone. The moon and stars
vanished, and it became so dark that the Asēkha could not see his hand in front
of his face. For a few scary moments, Gorlong’s trident was the only illumination,
but then Maynard Tew approached with a torch and showed the Tugars where they
could find more. In a short time, several hundred torches were mounted along
the wall walk in iron ringlets; yet the firelight barely dented the darkness.
"Asēkha, from whence came this eternal
night?” Silah said. "Is the sorcerer responsible?”
"I am reminded of Dammawansha’s vision,”
Rati said to the female Tugarian warrior. "The High Monk said to me: ‘There
will be only darkness, as deep as nothingness.’ Somehow, though, it does not
feel evil to me.”
Rati guessed that another bell passed
before he began to hear the cacophony of eerie sounds coming from the interior
of the city. At first it reminded him of the madness of Kauha, and he felt as
if he again were stranded inside the swamp. But then the sounds grew louder and
more horrific. When he heard screams coming from the Mahaggatans at the base of
the wall, Rati realized what had occurred. The fiends, all of them, had broken
free of the palisade and were attacking en masse.
"Close the gates—and flee!” Rati shouted
to the Tugars who had been stationed near the elaborate mechanisms at the base
of the wall.
A few of the Svakarans and Bhasurans were
able to slip through the gates before they clanked shut. The rest—along with
the Tugars— escaped over the side of the bulwark on rope ladders, which were
then set on fire. All told, only about three hundred, including Gorlong, Tew,
Dhītar, and all the Tugars—survived the surprise assault. Now they stood in the
darkness on the outside of the Golden Wall as tens of thousands of fiends
pressed against the metal gates, howling and snarling. Other fiends clambered
up the steps and cast themselves off the wall walk, but they splattered when
they hit the ground. Eventually the rest stopped jumping.
Without warning, a series of booming
sounds erupted from somewhere within the inner city. This seemed to further
enrage the fiends, who pressed even harder against the metal grating. But the
gates had been designed to forestall an invading army—and they held.
Rati wasn’t sure what to do next. Since
arriving at the border of Kauha, he and his Tugars had been besieged. A part of
him felt that it was his responsibility to make sure the fiends did not escape
Avici and wreak havoc on the rest of the world. But he also knew that he did
not have nearly the strength to stop them, if they were to somehow find a way
out.
Then, the help they had long hoped for
suddenly appeared.
When Podhana and his large company
arrived, Rati felt like jumping for joy. If there had been enough light, he
would have been compelled to rush around and count every one of the new
arrivals. Instead, he had to take Podhana’s word for their numbers.
When the Asēkha informed Rati of his
ascension to chieftain, Rati instantly assumed obeisance.
"What now, chieftain?” he said.
"We must find a way to kill all the
fiends,” Podhana said.
"But there are scores beyond even my
count,” Rati said. "Killing that many will be next to impossible—and the
darkness makes matters more difficult.”
"We number six thousand Tugars and a
thousand Pabbajja,” Podhana said. "We will suffice.”
A pair of Homeless People came forward,
each bearing a glowing trident. Rati recognized Gorlong, whose hair was
filthier and more tangled than the others, but he did not know his companion.
Podhana introduced him as Bruugash, high overlord of the Pabbajja. Even Gorlong
was subservient to him.
"Kantaara Yodhas, the Pabbajja have
a plan, if you would listen,” Bruugash said. Then he gestured toward his
companion. "It was Gorlong who first conceived it.”
"You are too kind, overlord,” Gorlong
said.
"Truth is truth,” Bruugash said.
"If you have a plan, it is one more than I
possess,” Podhana said.
Bruugash’s eyes wobbled. "The Pabbajja
have suffered much. Gorlong has informed me that many score of my people
perished in the swamp.”
"I was witness to this tragedy,” Rati
said. "A great number fell in Kauha, including the queen of Nissaya and the
black knights who accompanied her. Of the Pabbajja, only Gorlong managed to
survive.”
"One is better than none,” Bruugash said.
"Still, our losses weigh heavy on our hearts. And they have made us even more
bitter and vengeful. Nothing would please us more than to play a role in the
destruction of the blasphemies that are massed within the gates of Avici.”
"Of those among us, only the Svakarans and
Bhasurans—along with a Senasanan countess and her companion—are vulnerable to
the bite of the fiends,” Rati said. "But the sheer weight of their numbers
could cause serious harm. When the Kantaara Yodhas did battle with the
fiends in Tējo, there was concern that individual Tugars could be trampled and
smothered. The monsters are not entirely mindless.”
"You are correct when you say that the
Pabbajja are in no danger of transformation, though we can be damaged in other
ways,” Bruugash said. "But Gorlong’s plan should enable us to destroy large
numbers without too much risk.”
Podhana and Rati listened carefully. A
short while later, they and the other Asēkhas ascended the grated gates by
hand, each holding a small torch between their teeth. When they reached the
wall walk, an angry swarm of fiends met them. The torches provided barely
enough light to see for a few cubits, but each Asēkha had trained for thousands
of hours in deep darkness and knew how to fight blindly. They spread out just
far enough to be in no danger of each other’s blades, and then methodically
dispatched the fiends as they made their way down an inner stairwell toward the
mechanisms that worked the gate on the eastern side of the river. Podhana and
the Asēkhas formed a partial ring around Rati, who’d already become accustomed
to the intricate mechanical workings of the device.
The gate swung open just a crack.
Rati rushed through. Podhana and the
others followed. Standing shoulder to shoulder less than a stone’s throw from
the near bank were the Pabbajja, their tridents aimed toward the river like
glowing pikes. The Asēkhas sprinted along the edge of the river until they came
to the end of the line of Pabbajja, then turned and watched as a stream of
fiends poured through the opening of the gate and trundled along the riverbank
only a few feet from the water’s edge.
The Pabbajja waited until at least a
thousand of the monsters had made it through the opening before unleashing
their power. Magic from their tridents blew outward like dragon fire, setting
the fiends aflame. Some burst asunder while others tumbled into the river, where
they would be battered to pieces on razor-sharp stones. Tugars rushed in from
behind the Pabbajja and cast slews of ruined bodies into the raging currents.
Soon after, a thousand more fiends met the
same fate. Rati feared that the monsters would comprehend their danger and
refuse to exit through the gates. But the fiends that loomed behind the others
did not have a clear view of what was occurring, and they were not able to
sense the full extent of the danger.
More and more monsters met their doom,
falling like dry grass succumbing to flame. Rati estimated that in a bell’s
time, the Pabbajja had killed an amazing five thousand score. But it was taking
a terrible toll. The Homeless People were weary, and their fire was growing
less lethal. A few even collapsed from exhaustion. Rati and a hundred Tugars
were finally forced to call a halt to the slaughter and slam the gates shut
from the outside, bracing them with boulders so that no more fiends could pass
through the narrow opening. Afterward, the great among them gathered to assess
what had been accomplished—and at what cost.
Bruugash leaned against his trident, white
clouds puffing from his mouth in the increasingly chilly air. "They are too
many,” the overlord said. "And we are too weary. We must rest for at least a
day before we can expend such energy again.”
"How many do you think are left?” Podhana
said to Rati.
"At least twice as many as were slain,
which was no small number.”
Gorlong’s eyes wobbled even more than
usual. "I am sorry, Kantaara Yodhas. My plan has failed.”
Podhana smiled, then patted the Pabbajja
on the crown of his hairy head. "You did anything but fail. The enemy has been
reduced. And now you have given me an idea.” Then he looked at Bruugash. "It is
the Tugars’ turn to wreak havoc. I know that you are exhausted, but does enough
of your strength remain to manage light instead of fire?”
"Despite our weariness, I believe that
this can still be done,” the overlord said.
When the boulders were removed and the
gate swung open again, more fiends poured through the breach. But instead of
incineration from the Pabbajja’s tridents, they met the wicked blades of the
Tugars. In the dim glow the weary Pabbajja provided, uttaras flashed and
gleamed.
The fiends came on, heedless of the
danger. The desert warriors threw the corpses into the river as quickly as they
were slain. The Ogha, ever hungry, carried them away. The wide and powerful
river did not clog. Body parts, bloated and hideous, would probably be found
along the banks for weeks to come, attracting every form of scavenger. But none
of the horrid undines would survive. When the host body was destroyed,
the demonic worms also perished.
Despite having had little food or sleep
for several days, the Tugars did not tire, so supreme was their endurance. Rati
took forty-nine heads before trading places with another warrior to play the
role of street cleaner, dragging countless bodies and tossing just as many
heads into the water. Still the fiends came, foaming at the mouth like rabid
dogs. But though their numbers were stupendous, they were not infinite—and with
each of the six thousand Tugars killing dozens apiece, the stream of fiends
lessened until it became just a trickle.
And finally... nothing.
Pools of blood, gore, and dead worms, in
places more than ankle deep, were splattered along the riverbank for half a
mile or more. Rati found a lighted torch, propped it in a crevice between two
rocks, and then splashed water on his face. Podhana knelt beside him in the dim
firelight and did the same.
"How many fell?” Podhana finally asked
him.
"Most but not all,” Rati said. "Some of
the fiends must have wandered elsewhere. It’s possible...
probable... that tens of thousands are still wandering the
streets of Avici—or elsewhere within the Golden Wall. There is a wide expanse
of land between Avici and Kilesa.”
"Can any escape beyond the wall? That
would not be a good thing.”
"I would think not, but who really knows?”
Podhana sat on his haunches and sighed.
From this short distance, Rati could barely recognize his face in the darkness.
"You say there is food and wine aplenty inside the gate?” he said hopefully.
"More than enough for many drunken
feasts,” Rati said. "Still, an important task remains, does it not?”
"Uccheda... I know. But
if we are to assault the tower, we will need all our strength. I have no idea
what time of day it is, but I believe it is far past dawn. Even Tugars need
sustenance and rest. I do not remember the last time I slept more than a few
moments.”
"If Laylah is imprisoned in the tower,
every moment she spends in Uccheda will be equal to a lifetime of horrors.”
Podhana sighed. "I have witnessed the
sorcerer’s powers first-hand. The Torgon saw them too and ordered the
Asēkhas and Tugars to flee, knowing that we would be helpless against him. If
Invictus holds Laylah in the tower, we lack the might to rescue her.”
This amazed Rati. "Will we not make the
attempt?”
"I didn’t say that,” Podhana said. "But
first we will rest. In the meantime, perhaps the darkness will lose its infernal
grip.”
Rati nodded. "It will be as you command,
chieftain.”
Guided by the light of tridents and
torches, they entered the gates. The open areas they encountered were eerily
empty. Either every fiend in the vicinity had been slain, or those that survived
had finally realized their peril and wandered to locations where their human
prey didn’t put up such a ferocious fight. The Tugars and Pabbajja entered
Avici and quickly found numerous places to eat and sleep. The homes and businesses
contained a plethora of lamps and candles. But even when lighted, no fiends
approached.
There was no way to determine the time of
day or how long they slept. The outside air grew even chillier, but inside they
lay beside blazing hearths. It pleased Rati to see that the Pabbajja ate
ordinary food and drank copious amounts of wine, though the Asēkha never was
able to detect even a hint of lips or teeth behind all the hair. Only the
protruding eyes were visible, yet Rati found that he somehow was able to read
their expressions. And he grew to love his diminutive companions.
Eventually, Podhana called them all
together to begin a cautious march up the main causeway. Quickly they
encountered pockets of fiends, some numbering one hundred or more, which were
easily dispatched. Otherwise, the city was lifeless and devoid of light. Rati
felt like he was walking inside a haunted cavern a thousand fathoms beneath the
surface of the world.
The company wound this way and that and
might have become lost had the main road not been broader than the lesser
avenues. They moved slowly and drearily toward the apex of the dead volcano
upon which Avici had been constructed. When they reached the top and gazed into
the darkness, what they saw amazed them. The ruins of Uccheda were spread in
all directions, glowing like the cinders of a fire kicked angrily apart.
Millions of tons of golden stone glowed dimly, yet there was enough
illumination to create a temporary oasis in the otherwise disconcerting
darkness. Down they went, cautious yet curious.
Tew and Dhītar approached Rati, each
bearing a smoking torch.
"I would not have believed it if I had not
seen it with my own eyes,” the pirate said. "The tower was too strong to fall.
Who has this kind of power?”
Rati shook his head. "I have no idea. But
let’s hope the sorcerer fell along with it.”
They walked among the glowing chunks of
crumbled stone, searching for signs of survivors. Amazingly, a lone and mighty
tree remained standing amid the rubble, as if too stubborn to be uprooted by
the upheavals. Eventually, the Tugars and Pabbajja, seven thousand strong,
gathered around an enormous slab of gold-coated stone that must have weighed
more than a hundred tons.
Yet something beneath it was great enough
to cause the slab to quiver.
"Chieftain, do we dare move this
obstruction?” Rati said. "What if the sorcerer is trapped beneath?”
Podhana chuckled ruefully. "The sorcerer
would not be hindered, even by this.” Then he held his arms aloft. "Tugars! I
have a task for you.”
The desert warriors
pressed against the slab and slid it aside with relative ease, revealing a
misty stairwell clogged with debris. From the battered darkness arose a being
far larger, in stature, than Invictus.
"Yama-Deva,” Podhana said.
The snow giant looked about—and then smiled,
revealing fangs that Rati did not find threatening.
"I have decided that I’m not quite ready
to die,” Deva said.
"I am more than pleased,” Podhana said.
Then in almost a whisper: "The Torgon? Was he here?”
"He was. I know naught where he has gone,
but I believe he still lives.”
Podhana sighed. "And Invictus?”
"He is no longer.”
There was a collective gasp. Then the
chieftain knelt at the giant’s feet and pressed his face against the valley
floor—in obeisance.
Unabashedly, Rati joined him.
As did seven thousand others, including
the rascally pirate.
