What interest would Sendark have in us now? he thought.
And even though he was more powerful than he'd ever been in his life, he began to worry.
17
Walking through the wake of dead and burning corpses left by cheering Guards, the druid known as Alagar headed toward the woman he knew at once.
Noleta Mareldi looked more disheveled and worn than he'd ever seen her. Bloodstains showed on her traveling leathers, and Alagar was certain some of it was hers.
"Noleta," he said, a smile on his lips.
Peering over at him, Noleta's eyes widened.
"Alagar?" She smiled back, touching his arm. "What are you doing here?"
Alagar stepped closer to the redheaded woman as Guardsmen and citizens flowed around them. He smelled Noleta's fragrance and remembered a time when he held her close.
"I could ask the same of you,” he said. "You’re pretty far from home.”
Noleta looked around her.
"My home is all around here,” she scoffed, "tainted by Sendark's troops. The Mist went out of control last night, and I'm lucky to be alive. How did you get here? You're pretty far from home yourself. Following Sendark? ..."
Alagar nodded. As an investigator for the Great Dragons, he was indeed far from his home, but he'd been following some of Sendark's minions for months, and the trail had led him to Soronne.
"I am," he said, "but I wasn't prepared for this. The sea seems even more savage than ever. What's happening?"
"The war between the gods has grown larger," Noleta replied. "It's breaking down some of the old barriers and spilling over into other worlds as well as this one." She paused. "I didn't know you were familiar with this world."
Alagar nodded, but his expression was grim. "With this city," he said. "I have ... had ... friends here."
Noleta sobered instantly. "I'm sorry," she said, glancing around. "As I'm sorry for the loss of all those I see around me. Sendark's minions have never been gentle."
"Sendark and his artificial island is an abomination," Alagar stated harshly. "But I have a good lead on where he might be."
"How so?" Noleta asked.
"Two men from the Magistracy drained the power from a mystic fountain in these tunnels. From what the Guardsmen have told me, someone betrayed Soronne to Sendark. I think it was them."
"Do you know them?"
Alagar nodded. "Mandel and Lenik, two onetime commanders here. They must have betrayed the city for the power of the fountain."
"What does the fountain do?"
"I don't know. I had just arrived in the tunnels when one of them struck down Magistrate Bo, but I saw them, Noleta. They'd been changed—drastically. Both of them were over ten feet tall, and they used magic like it was nothing. Mandel opened a gateway out of that chamber and he's no mage; he's a thief."
"So how do we find them?" she asked.
"There are two fountains. The second is on the Isle of the Dead. I'd been talking to a man named Devlin Morely about it recently. Now he's missing along with his daughter. I think Mandel and Lenik used them to drain the fountain, and are now keeping them around for the second one."
Noleta was silent for a moment.
"Why would Sendark allow them to drain a fountain?" she asked seriously "Why wouldn't he have taken that kind of power for himself?"
"I'm not sure yet—but I intend to find out."
"Do you have a plan?"
"I mean to go after them," the druid said. "If Mandel and Lenik have the power of the fountains, Sendark won't let them simply walk away. That's not his style. If I can find them, I know I can find him."
"And his army?"
Alagar smiled.
"I didn't say it would be easy."
Noleta smiled back. They'd been on missions before, but never one against Sendark himself. The thought of destroying him for all the evils he'd done to her people was a welcome one, and if it meant tracking down two men in his web first, she could see no reason not to. Her ships were destroyed, war was being waged, and the thought of being close to Alagar again was more than enough to make the decision easy
"You know my feelings about Sendark," Noleta said. "I'm in."
Alagar touched a hand to her face and smiled.
"Good," he said. "When can your ship be ready?"
Noleta shook her head.
"I don't have a ship," she said. "It was taken in the Mist."
Alagar grimaced and looked away. "Overland travel will take too long."
"There's a man," Noleta said, "Captain Jar-rell. He brought me to the Six Shards. He lost several ships as well. It was only through his skill that we're here now, and he has no love for Sendark."
Alagar's eyes flashed recognition.
"I know Jarrell," the druid said. "I shared dinners with him in Soronne long ago when he was just a young sea goer on another man's ship. I'm glad to hear he's a captain now. He'll do fine. We'll also need Magistrate Bo's son, Praz-El, and a few others."
A little shock colored Noleta's face.
"You mean that boy?"
The vision she'd had came back to her in full force. The beach. The battle. The Darkness.
"He's a man," Alagar corrected.
"But Alagar," she said, "there's something about him."
"He's filled with rage," Alagar said, "I know. But Mandel and Lenik killed his father. Don't you think he's entitled to that rage? You saw what he did to those zombies. He won't stop until he's avenged."
"You know what I mean, Alagar. You forget I'm a witch. I see Darkness in him, and that could be very dangerous for us.”
"In the future, perhaps," Alagar said, "but Sendark is dangerous now. And with the Mist out of control, Sendark is going to be the greater danger. With every unspoiled world the Sea touches on, he's going to add to his army of undead." Alagar paused, thinking. "The intensity of his raid makes me think there's more to this than we know. We have to find him, and soon."
18
Praz-El stared up at the stormy skies that covered Soronne. A light rain fell over the city and the young warrior's skin tightened at the chill.
He stood on a tree-studded hill where Bo had asked to be buried when the time came, and gazed down at the unturned dirt before him.
There was no body in the soil.
Magistrate Bo had not been recovered, and his corpse wasn't near the fountain or in the tunnels. Praz had racked his mind and looked everywhere he could, but so much had been burned by fire that he couldn't even be sure there was a body left to find.
Praz looked away from the empty grave site and wished he knew what to do.
The greenish mist still lay coiled over the unnatural sea—which had not disappeared with the night as so many had hoped. Riders sent by the Guard had confirmed that the Mist only touched the shorelines of Soronne. Beyond, the never-ending lands were unscathed.
Praz had heard only a smattering of mage gossip about the Mist as he'd searched for Bo's body. Most of them thought that whatever spell had bound the Mist to the Six Shards would soon give up. However, until that time the strange sargasso of dead ships and undead crews would continue to come.
Glancing back down the hill, Praz watched as long lines of wagons and carts threaded from the city. Several of the close-set buildings had burned during the fires last night, stripping the interlocking structures of support. As a result, many had fallen or been declared unsafe, and looters worked overtime.
Still, although many people were leaving Soronne, even more came. Most people believed that if the Towers fell, so would the six other nations. A common threat had joined them, and neighboring cities now fought side by side.
Praz tried to make himself feel something more than pain. But all he could think of was how Bo had called him son and then died so quietly in his arms. Not even the young warrior's hatred and desire for revenge could help him forget how those he loved were constantly taken from him.
Magistrate Bo was gone, just as Mistress had gone. His mother and his father, possibly even brothers or sisters that he didn't know about, had been taken from him as well. Desperately, he wanted to know why he was cursed. Where was the destiny that Mistress had promised?
What would happen to him now?
Praz gazed at the coastline, looking for something else to think about.
How far can Mandel and Lenik have gotten?
But there was no way to be sure.
Sinking to his knees, Praz-El grabbed his head and tried to make the pain go away.
All his life, he'd been told to look ahead, to plan for the future. But nothing could have prepared him for the emptiness he now felt.
He tipped his face to the dark heavens and stirring clouds. Rain dripped into his eyes and ran cold across his lips. I've never given myself over to any gods, he silently told the heavens, but whichever of you has given me this life, please, help me now.
The young warrior waited.
He waited for a sign or a feeling or something. But nothing came.
A cloud rumbled and Praz remembered hacking into the undead until he'd been covered in blood.
How he survived, he did not know, but he wondered if he even needed the gods anymore. They were never there anyway—not to keep Mistress with him, not to keep Bo.
Never.
He halfway expected to be struck down by a sudden lightning bolt. But he didn't care. If he lived, he'd find some way to track the bolt back to the god that had cursed him. Then one of them would die.
Praz blew his breath out, knowing he wasn't going to get an answer. Goodbye, he thought, staring at the wet dirt. It was the only thing he could think of to say.
"There will be time enough to think later," someone said. "Now, we must act."
Praz turned to face the speaker.
Alagar strode up the hill. Two people followed after him. One of them was a red-haired woman and the other was Captain Jarrell. Behind them, River and Telop followed in quiet discussion, looking at Praz as if they had not been the ones who wanted to disturb him.
"I've heard Bo's body has not been found," Alagar said. "I'm sorry."
Praz nodded and looked away.
The druid halted in front of the grave. "No man should have to say goodbye to an empty grave."
River moved next to Praz.
"But every man should be given time to mourn," she said, as Telop took a defensive position on the other side of Praz.
Alagar nodded in quiet respect.
Praz had lost sight of him last night in all the confusion, and now, he gazed at the man suspiciously. The tattoos stood out even more strongly against his skin in the light of day. The squirrel skull's eyes and the silver-capped teeth around his neck gleamed.
"I don't know you," Praz said. "And just because you were Bo's friend doesn't mean you're mine."
"I'm here to help you," Alagar said, "and because I need your help."
Praz looked away and thought of the letter Bo had given him. That was all he wanted now—to get away, to move on—to forget.
"I'm leaving here," he answered. "I'm going away."
Alagar frowned at him.
"With your father not even cold?"
Praz turned to face the man. A flash of anger went through him.
"I’ll take time to bury one more," he said.
The druid held his gaze, then burst out laughing.
"By the gods, you're as impudent as Bo said you were."
Praz bristled but didn't know how to react.
"Have Sendark and his zombies beaten you so badly that you won't even avenge your father?" Alagar asked.
Praz looked away.
"Bo didn't believe in vengeance," he said.
"But he believed in saving this world."
The druid waved at the countryside around them. "All of this, all the Six Shards, is in danger from that." He pointed at the fog-shrouded sea to the east. "There is a man in those wretched Mists, a demoniac named Sendark, who is to blame for everything that happened to this city last night. For everything that happened to your father."
"Mandel and Lenik killed my father," Praz seethed, remembering all he'd heard and been told.
"Mandel and Lenik worked for Sendark," Alagar said.
Praz stared at him.
Captain Jarrell moved forward.
"Praz," he said, "I'm Captain Davin Jarrell, and I was a very close friend of your father's. We met once when you were a boy, but you've probably forgotten." Praz shrugged and looked away. "I've talked with the other surviving Magistrates," Jarrell went on. "They're all in agreement. We're going to find Mandel and Lenik and see if they can lead us to Sendark."
"You're suggesting that we attack those ships in the harbor?" Praz asked incredulously. "From what I've heard, we don't even have a navy left."
"I've got a ship," Jarrell replied. "One ship?" Praz stated coldly. "That's insane."
"We're not talking about attacking Demero," the red-haired woman said.
"Demero?" Telop asked.
"That's the name of the ship out there that sails on the Sea of Mist. My name is Noleta Mareldi. I'm from the Enoi. I was born within the Mist and still live there as well."
"You live within the Mist?" Telop asked.
"I did."
"Then why didn't you let us know this was going to happen?" Telop demanded.
"We had no idea. The Sea went mad a few days ago and our ships were destroyed by Sendark's crew. If it hadn't been for Captain Jarrell, all of my people would have been dead that day."
Telop glanced away.
"Mandel and Lenik sold out the Magistracy," Alagar said. "They sold out your father. And they did it for the magic contained in that fountain."
Praz shook his head. "I'll find them on my own."
"You can find them now," Alagar replied. "A Guardsman saw them walk through a gate spell. They took Devlin Morely and his daughter with them. Both of them were still alive."
Praz's heart seemed to come alive for the first time in hours. Lissella? He'd forgotten all about her, and now, it was something to hold on to. He turned to Alagar.
"I don't understand," he said, genuinely confused. "Is this all about a fountain?"
"I'm not sure," Alagar said, "but I want to find out. Whatever happened down there, I believe that Sendark was part of it. If he didn't engineer Magistrate Bo's death, he at least had a hand in it."
"Mandel killed my father," Praz seethed. "And if I get the chance, I'll avenge that death."
Alagar looked over his shoulder to Jarrell and Noleta, then back at Praz.
"Really?" he said, "Then this might be your lucky day."
19
“There's a second fountain," Alagar continued. "And I believe that's where Mandel and Lenik are. I also believe that's where I'll find Sendark."
Using his second sight, Alagar watched a small spark of Darkness spread through Praz's aura and turn into a raging inferno.