Into the Abyss (The Nightslayer Trilogy, Part 2) - Chapter Twelve

The sun hadn’t come up, yet. As he returned to his chambers, Garrold knew that that couldn’t be a good sign. What he wasn’t sure of was if the lack of a sunrise had to do with anything the Baron had done, or with the event Garrold sensed had happened while he slept. It probably had a little to do with both, he reasoned, which meant that the time for preparation and planning had passed. It was time to do something, to move against the dark forces that had taken hold of the land. It may already be too late, though, Garrold thought. And I can’t do it alone. Where is Thaddeus?

When Garrold reached the door to his chambers, he found it open. Hadn’t he closed it when he’d left? And then he sensed the magic. Something – something foul and rotten, an Abomination raised by necromancy – had come to Garrold’s chambers while he was gone, and was now waiting for him. Garrold wondered who the Abomination could be. Not one of the gate guards, of course – they were being taken care of outside, and neither of them had seemed to have any spells on them besides the one that had erased their minds. Could it have been someone from the crypts? Not Therese, Garrold thought. Gods Above, please don’t let it be her. Garrold took a deep breath and walked through the open door.

“Hello, boy.”

Sitting in one of the two chairs on either side of the hearth was a withered figure dressed in tattered clothing. Its eyes glowed like coals, and the hollow voice it spoke in was both familiar, and totally unrecognizable. Garrold knew who the figure was at once, of course. It was his father. And his father had only ever called him “boy” when he was displeased with something Garrold had done.

“Hello, Father,” Garrold said.

“Look at you,” the Abomination said. “Strutting around here like someone important. Plotting the overthrow of your rightful king. And reeking of magic, besides. I thought I raised you better than this, boy.”

“You raised me to always do what was right,” Garrold said. “And that’s what I’m doing.”

The Abomination laughed derisively. “You think treason is right, do you? Do you know where you’ll wind up if you stay on this path? With the headsman’s sword at your neck! I can’t let that happen, Garrold.” It fixed its burning stare on Garrold. “I won’t.”

“You have no say over my actions, anymore, Father.”

“Oh, don’t I?” The Abomination rose and started walking toward Garrold, its hands outstretched. A growl – like that of some vicious, wild animal – rose in its throat, and when next it spoke, its voice had turned raspy and inhuman. “Do you know what will happen if I touch you, boy? Do you?”

The Abomination lunged. Garrold leaped into the air and somersaulted over the Abomination’s head. Reaching his hand out, he called the sword that hung over the mantle – the sword that, as Duke of Telvany, was Garrold’s birthright, but which he had never chosen to wear – into it, blue fire running up its length as he poured some of his magic into the blade. Swinging the sword, Garrold found there was a shield surrounding the Abomination. However, even though the swing did not connect, the magic he’d infused the sword with chipped at the shield, and so he swung again and again, the blows ringing off the shield just as if it were made of metal.

The Abomination was shrieking, now, darting and ducking to avoid the blows of Garrold’s sword, lunging with its claw-like hands as it tried to grab a hold of him. The magic that had raised the Abomination made it fast, but Garrold kept up with it, though more than once he escaped its touch by only a hairsbreadth. Garrold, though he didn’t know enough of the lore to be sure, had a nasty suspicion of what would happen to him if the Abomination – which no longer even came close to resembling his father – touched him, and he used the fear that suspicion gave him to fuel his magic, his attacks becoming more furious as he battered at the Abomination’s shield. Can’t keep this up much longer, he thought, starting to feel the first hints of fatigue begin to settle in.

Taking his sword in one hand, Garrold used his free hand to unleash a blast of blue fire at the Abomination. The Abomination’s shrieks turned into a screech, and its shield splintered. Garrold swung his sword in an arc, beheading the Abomination before it had a chance to react to the loss of its shield. The Abomination continued to screech for a moment, then the sound faded away as if falling down a very deep well. The Abomination’s body crumpled to the floor, and when it hit, it exploded into a cloud of dust.

The door to Garrold’s chambers – which had slammed closed the instant the Abomination had risen and started coming toward him – burst open, then, and Garrold turned to see Wilem, Robert, Stevan, and Sister Niela standing there. Wilem’s staff – glowing faintly – was in his hand, but it was clear from the way she stood that it had been Sister Niela who had blown the door open. “We heard the shrieks,” Wilem said. “Are you all right, Brother?”

Garrold had just beheaded his father’s corpse. He wasn’t sure if he was all right, or not. “I will be,” he said.

“Who was the Abomination?”

“Father.” Garrold went over to the hearth and pulled his sword’s scabbard off of the mantle. “The Baron must have visited the crypts before he left.” He looked at Wilem as he sheathed his sword. “He did it to taunt me, Wilem. Either that, or he greatly underestimated how powerful I am, which, considering how strong it seems he is, I find hard to believe.”

“Why hasn’t the sun come up?” Robert asked from where he stood in the doorway. “Did the Baron do that, too?”

Garrold shook his head. “I don’t think so. Something else happened during the night. Whatever it was, though, it’s going to make our enemies stronger. Are the troops you and Stevan have been helping to train ready to move?”

“As ready as they’ll ever be, Your Grace,” Stevan said.

“Good.” Garrold finished strapping the sword to his waist, then took the Shining Circlet and put it on. “Assemble them in the courtyard.” He looked at Wilem and Niela. “How many of your Brothers and Sisters will be joining us?”

“As many as can be spared,” Wilem said. “Brother, are you sure you’re ready?”

“I have to be, Brother. Time’s running out. If we delay any longer, there will be no stopping the horrors that are coming.”

“What of this person Thaddeus you spoke of? Where is he?”

Garrold reached out with his magic, trying to see if he could sense where Thaddeus – the man who had appeared in Garrold’s study all those weeks ago, claiming to be the Nightslayer – might be. Garrold sensed nothing. “I don’t know, Wilem,” he said quietly. “I just don’t know.”