4 A Trip to Cantrip

THREADFIN TODDER TOOK a deep breath to quell his anxiety as he strode through the sanctum of a derelict stronghold. It was long ago abandoned to the desert wind and sand. The latter had piled up in banks against the walls, with miniature dunes forming inside entranceways. Someone had cleared a path with such tidy precision it could only have been magic.

Former majestic columns stood half buried, the ochre paint almost unnoticeable. It wasn’t anything so grand as the Black Palace, but he decided it suited his mood.

Gritty, dark, and a bit all over the place.

It wasn’t normal for a viral mage to suffer anxiety he supposed, but he wasn’t certain he cared. In fact, he was so far past normal at this point, it was becoming fashionable. He was sure he could start a trend.

Tezcat followed behind, with Grudge trailing them, a comforting presence now he no longer had Podral Pole. It was hard not to think of his old friend, complaining and griping, always there when he was most needed. A strange thing – that what had annoyed him most was what he now missed.

As he entered a large inner chamber also swept clear of sand, populated with some sparse stone furniture, he spotted his sister, Sarscha Todralan. The imperatrix of the Icarthian Imperium and formerly the legendary imperial marshal, she was a formidable woman, one whom he had grown to care for despite their differences. Not that he was going to tell her; he doubted she’d want to hear it.

She stood at a thick basalt table, maps spread across its rough surface, jabbing at a spot with her finger, talking. The imperial marshal was at her side, nodding along. Her eyes were focused, body tense. It seemed she’d given up drinking, at least during the day. He knew she had struggled to adjust to her new role, but she seemed more settled these days.

Threadfin and Sarscha had, however, spent few days together during the past months since the events involving Volcanus. She wasn’t best pleased about that either. She insisted her imperial mage be at her side, especially now, but each of those days they’d spent together had been filled with constant arguing.

She was right to demand his presence of course, and he knew it. Funny thing was, a part of him wanted to please her, to do as she asked. He wanted to show her he could be more than just a walking corpse with some fancy tricks.

He halted before the table and lowered his hood, allowing her to take in his undead appearance before he spoke. When they were younger, Sarscha would’ve looked away, grimacing on sight of him. Back then, she had all but ignored his existence. Now, as she noticed him, her eyes were like flint cutting and dicing as she weighed up what to do with him.

‘We need to talk,’ he announced, ‘but first, I know what you’re going to ask. You want to know where I’ve been. Well, I’ve been busy. We all have our duties and our ways of preparing for what’s coming.’

Sarscha pursed her lips, fingers drumming on the map, which he believed depicted the Gulley, though it was upside down from his vantage point. Maps had been Aiyana’s area as had many other scholarly matters.

He tried again, wondering if he should even bother. His anxiety was morphing into anger at this point. ‘The invasion of our imperium is about to begin, sister, so let’s put aside our differences, and get on with it.’ Yes, try the old family bit, see if that budged her.

The imperatrix still said nothing, her gaze resting upon him as if evaluating his words. Threadfin shifted his stance a little, feeling uncomfortable. No doubt, that was the point. He heard Tezcat fidgeting somewhere behind him, and Grudge muttering.

The imperial marshal had taken a step back from the table. A wise man. Sarscha’s eyes flickered to Tezcat and the object she carried. She straightened, as if having made some decision, and at last gestured to her brother. ‘Follow me.’

They left the room, with two dozen green-cloaked imperial guards surrounding them; Threadfin felt like a prisoner. Sarscha led them the short distance to another chamber, and there, he discovered over a dozen people surrounding a long oak table, in decent condition too. The table, not the people. They rose as Sarscha entered the room. Threadfin wondered where they'd gotten oak, the trees growing far to the north, but he supposed enough gold dralans in one’s pocket got one anything; they’d likely had it brought down the coast by ship.

Sarscha strode to the head of the table and gestured for Threadfin and Tezcat to take their seats. There were four spots free. Threadfin decided to take the one furthest from his sibling. Just in case.

Everyone sat. Threadfin looked up and down the table noting all present. Several conclavists, legionary officers and marshals, the imperial marshal of course, and Vilt. She nodded in acknowledgement while Grudge managed to find a chair near her, and sat beside her, all while picking his nose. The officers and marshals were leading their legions to the Gulley another four hundred miles south. No doubt, Grudge would be marching with them.

Also present were several representatives of other kingdoms judging by clothing and features, and another viral mage named Wallow whom he knew in passing. Finally, he noted the Nephilim. This one wasn’t very big, so easy to miss at first glance. She was very slender for a giant too, but she didn’t look like an imp. Likely from one of the lesser clans, then. Her presence at this meeting was interesting.

‘I’ve gathered everyone here whom I trust and need,’ said Sarscha, before gesturing at the Nephilim. ‘For those of you who haven’t met her, this is Moll. She is from the Zuzim clan, and someone who has been passing us information for some time regarding events in Raddhon.’

Moll was regarding him with a cold gaze he found a little uncomfortable, but he returned it nevertheless. Stare for stare was this mage’s motto.

Sarscha noticing, cleared her throat, and continued, ‘We need to watch our enemies, but more so our friends. These are dangerous and treacherous times, and Moll has been invaluable.’

‘I see,’ said Threadfin. ‘This is how you know about the rebellion?’ He flapped a couple of fingers in Moll’s direction. ‘How do you know this one’s not lying. You know, working for the other side and whatnot? Feeding us false information.’

Sarscha shot him a dark glance. ‘You’re late, little brother, but I’m glad you could still make it.’ She didn’t sound as though she meant it.

Tezcat fidgeted again likely wanting to put in a word about a dark monstrous assassin named Gressil, but he gave her a slight shake of his head. No need to complicate matters. He’d deal with that himself.

‘We need to discuss how to move forward,’ said Sarscha, directing her gaze at each person around the table.

‘Two more legions have by now arrived at the Gulley,’ said Artorius Agrippa, ‘under Marshal Janus, combined with the three we have in Cantrip.’

‘And the rest of our defences in the south?’

Artorius cleared his throat. ‘Besides the Gulley, there’s two legions fully provisioned in Hatava, and the latest recruits' training there is near completion. All legions are accompanied by a minimum of three clots of mages as per your orders.’

Tezcat spoke up then. ‘The mages is training somethin’ fierce, too,’ she said. ‘They is near full ready for whatever comes.’

Sarscha nodded. ‘I know this fight will be no place for ordinary soldiers, but we will stand and fight nonetheless. What we face is strange, otherworldly, and beyond the experience of most of us, but we will face it.

‘Any word on the other matter?’ she then asked glancing at both her imperial marshal and the conclavists.

All shook their heads, but it was Paladin Benedict who spoke. Dark hair with a hint of silver, he had smooth brown skin. ‘Creed has vanished,’ he said.

Threadfin didn’t think Benedict had allowed Tezcat to magic him down south. Likely, he had travelled with the legions, being a former legionary himself. Rumour suggested he was also a eunuch, but Threadfin didn’t believe it. Despite being an outlawed practice, the man would never have made it into the legions had it been true.

‘There’ve been searches conducted in every major and minor city in the imperium,’ the conclavist continued. ‘Currently, they are investigating the towns. Arrests and interrogations have been carried out. Nothing.

‘All our contacts have been utilized in the hunt, imperatrix. It is as though she never existed. Anyone whom she would have had dealings with has also disappeared.’

‘Sounds like someone’s hiding her tracks,’ suggested Vilt.

‘My Ma were good at hidin’ stuff,’ said Grudge, looking and speaking to no one in particular. ‘Hid all sorts from my father, she did afore she went and—’

‘That’s alright, captain,’ Threadfin interrupted, while Vilt patted the man’s leg. ‘We don’t need to hear about your Ma just now.’

Sarscha stared at her hands resting on the table for a moment, but Threadfin could see the fear in her. He knew what had happened between her and Creed.

‘If she has that Book,’ she said in a quiet voice, ‘then finding her is vital.’

Benedict shrugged as though she had said the sky was blue. ‘We can’t. She’s gone.’

‘No, she is not,’ said the imperatrix. She kept her voice low, but it held an almost frantic edge to it. ‘She is still here in the imperium, somewhere. I want the searches to continue. Leave no place for that traitorous bitch to hide. Search every house, hovel and stable. Look under every bloody rock, if you must. Find her!’

Silence followed. An impossible task, considering the size of the imperium. However, no one dared disagree aloud. It was clear to Threadfin the former paladin would never be found, not unless she wanted to be. She had the power of the Book of Chains at her fingertips, which made her a lethal enemy.

‘On another issue,’ said Threadfin deciding he should change the subject, ‘I propose we do not wait for Astra Dar’s forces to attack.’

Benedict frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

Agrippa glanced at Sarscha, with a worried look. Threadfin didn’t care. He would make this argument over and over if he had to. ‘We make the first move. We are running out of time.’

‘I am aware of that, little brother,’ his sister snapped, ‘but we must be ready to defend ourselves first. We cannot go on the offensive wasting the lives of our soldiers, leaving our imperium defenceless. If we were fighting a human army, I would agree with you. In fact, I would have attacked long ago. However, what we’re facing is far more powerful than us. At least here, we can choose the ground, if not the timing.’

Threadfin shook his head. He knew Sarscha had been a renowned military strategist during her time as imperial marshal, and he had every faith in her judgement. However, something in his gut told him they had to take the fight to the enemy. Yes, they were weaker, and imperial greencloaks could not hope to survive against the forces Astra Dar had gathered. But he also knew he was right.

‘Sarscha, all the lands to the east have fallen, including the islands of Nynt and Tage. Most of Eladaldor has also succumbed.’

‘I do receive the same reports as you, Fin.’

‘Give me three legions, and five clots of mages at least, and I will leave for Eladaldor today.’

‘No.’

‘Two legions and three clots.’

‘No.’

It was the same old argument. He had proposed months earlier that he should hunt Astra Dar down, and end it before she became too strong, but he knew he couldn’t do it by himself. He felt his anger heating up. ‘Our imperium is surrounded. Once they invade, we can hold them perhaps. As Cat said, the mages have been preparing, and experimenting with spells, and all sorts of defensive gimmicks, but it won’t make a difference in the long run.

‘Lucifer won’t show himself. He’ll have Astra leading from the rear when they invade. Unless we can defeat him, we’ve already lost this war, and the only way to do that is to kill Astra Dar to prevent his crossing over. A defensive strategy in this case is a losing one.’

Sarscha sighed, her gaze hardening. ‘I understand, but it is too dangerous. Once you leave the imperium, you are walking into the unknown. There are no reports coming from anywhere. Apart from Moll here, all my envoys, spies, and scouts have fallen silent. We are blind. Besides, it’s my intention to draw out the sorceress with bait.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘You, Fin. I am aware of her interest, her connection to you. You can help draw her out, and then the mages can focus their attacks on her. With her distracted, you can deliver the killing blow. You have that Sword of yours after all.’ She glanced at Tezcat who had the bundle on her lap beneath the table.

Threadfin wasn’t convinced. Such a plan would mean Astra’s forces would have already invaded. It would be cutting it too fine, and she might see it coming. He needed to catch her by surprise. Do what she did not expect.

Sarscha’s fingers drummed on the table top. ‘You don’t even know where to find her, do you? You are the most powerful mage we have. I cannot afford to lose you. The horde is our strongest defence, and you are their commander.’

Threadfin stared down at the table. ‘I used to be that mage, once.’

‘Snap out of it!’ she barked at him. He looked up at her in shock. ‘I won’t tolerate any more of your whimpering and self-indulgent tripe. You’ve vanished every time I’ve summoned you. “He’s gone to the forest somewhere to the northwest, or to the mountains.” Or “Apologies, imperatrix, but we don’t know where he is. Maybe off experimenting somewhere.” That last was the one I heard the most. You will do as I command. You have a duty to this imperium and to me.’

Something awoke in him then. Whether it was an idea, or a feeling, he wasn’t sure, but he knew what he had to do. ‘Actually, I don’t.’

‘Excuse me?’ She leaned forward, more menacing than he’d thought possible. She really was taking her role more seriously these days. Trust her to give up drinking now. At least when she’d had a cup in her hand, she’d been more agreeable.

‘My duty is to the living,’ he said, not backing down, ‘and that means all living both within and beyond the imperium. I don’t serve you alone. I’m no longer your imperial mage.

‘In fact, I quit. Consider this my resignation. I’ll have Nipper write it up if you like — oh wait, you freed all the mongrels. Well, I guess you’ll just have to accept my word on it then in front of all these witnesses. My writing is terrible, you see. All scribbly. Totally illegible, in fact. Even Nipper gets disgusted by it.’

Her jaw dropped open - an affliction he could sympathise with. The truth for once. It was nice to inflict it on someone else. No words came out. Even better.

‘Tezcat Licolo is more than capable of serving as imperial mage,’ he went on, sensing the viral girl fidgeting furiously. ‘I must do what I need to if we are to stand a chance. Astra Dar likely has the Stone, or is about to get hold of it. With that in her possession, we don’t have a hope, not if we just sit and wait. I have the Crystal Sword. I can destroy her and end this.’

No one spoke, so he kept talking. ‘I know you’re all afraid. I know you’re used to human enemies who bleed and die, but I also know you can defend this imperium without me. Tezcat can lead the horde. Let me do what I need to.’

If there had been silence around the table before, this time it was deafening. ‘Very well,’ Sarscha said after a few long moments passed by, ‘it seems that even if I wanted to, I could not change your mind. Your logic is reasonable.’ She stood, and then so did everyone else leaving him sat alone.

‘What, you mean that’s it? No argument?’ He had expected at minimum a good old fight over it. It felt sort of anticlimactic.

She smiled down at him. ‘Why argue with sense? I knew you might suggest something like this. You’ve been pestering me for months on this topic after all, when you’ve been around. Not to mention your letters. You are correct by the way; your writing is brutal.’

‘You mean you agreed with me all along?’

‘I wanted to be certain you were certain. Although I did not expect you to quit your position. A little bit overdramatic.’

Threadfin shrugged. ‘I like to surprise people. I’m still quitting.’

Her grin broadened, and too late, Threadfin realised he’d walked into her trap. She was good at those was his sister. ‘Actually, I think it better you do resign. Cut free, you can do as you need to without hindrance. Tezcat is a fine replacement. In fact, I think she’s an improvement. More tolerable, agreeable, and a much better personality all round.’ Tezcat was beaming at the praise and promotion.

It was Threadfin’s turn to open his mouth, and have no words issue forth. Someone else entered the room, as the others began to file out, and Threadfin turned in his chair.

‘Ah, yes, this here is Asher Tone,’ announced Sarscha introducing the man, ‘the Atlantian prince who was acquainted with our sister.’

At the mention of the word prince, Asher winced, looking nothing like how Aiyana had described him.

Threadfin stared at the breather. Had they met? He couldn’t recall. After Aiyana’s death, he’d not really cared about anything other than the knot of pain in his stomach. The same pain he’d felt when Pole had died. It seemed that was all there was these days. Pain.

‘It is good to finally meet you,’ said Asher, half smiling and holding out a hand. Threadfin didn’t take it. The breather looked somewhat emaciated, his clothing ill-fitting, and probably not his, which meant the former prince of Atlantis had fallen on hard times.

‘Well,’ he said, withdrawing his hand again, ‘Aiyana told me a lot about you. About both of you,’ he added a little late with a glance for the imperatrix.

Threadfin said nothing.

‘He’s going with you,’ announced Sarscha.

‘No,’ Threadfin muttered, ‘he’s not.’

‘You expected an argument, didn’t you?’ Sarscha was all smiles, knowing she’d won. The bitch. ‘You got what you wanted. Now, I’ll get what I want. You quit as an imperial mage, but you cannot quit as my brother.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘As imperatrix, I have the right to watch over every Todralan in our family. Since there’s just the two of us now...’

He had a sinking feeling he’d walked into a second trap. ‘I’m not a Todralan anymore.’

She gestured for Asher to take a seat, which he did a little reluctantly, eyeing Threadfin. ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘I’ve been meaning to tell you. I reversed our father’s edict to exile you, and I’ve restored you to the family name. I’m still imperatrix, but you are no longer, Todder. You are again, as you once were, a Todralan.’

Threadfin felt dumbstruck. He’d grown so accustomed to his role on the fringes of the imperial family, but then a question occurred. ‘What has this got to do with him?’ He waved his hand in the Atlantian’s direction.

‘Oh yes,’ she said with a vicious smile, which Threadfin didn’t like. ‘I must have forgotten to mention it. How absent minded of me. You see, Asher here is your new Darken.’

Threadfin looked from her to the breather. ‘You’ve got to be kidding.’

‘He needs the work,’ she continued, ‘and there’s an opening. A Todralan without a Darken is a bit like being naked, don’t you think? Even I have one.’

Threadfin didn’t know what to think. After Pole’s death, he’d not considered the possibility of having a new Darken. He also wondered who Sarscha’s Darken was. He had his suspicions.

‘Well,’ said Asher with a knowing look, as though he knew all the secrets of the world. ‘It’s like this, do you know an angel named Adal?’

At the mention of that name, all Threadfin could do was lie, ‘No. Never heard of him.’

His sister adopted a no-nonsense look, one he remembered from their childhood. ‘You may have quit your role as imperial mage, but you are still a Todralan. Whether you like it or not. As both imperatrix and matriarch of this family, I now make the decisions about these things.’

‘And I don’t get a say.’

‘Of course, you do. I just don’t have to listen. You are too important, and you need someone watching your back.’

Threadfin jerked a thumb at Asher, knowing it was rude, but not caring a whit. ‘Yeah, okay ... but him, really?’

‘Adal has assured us both that you will need him before all this is done with, and that he should remain close to you. This is the perfect solution.’

‘You’ve been talking to Adal?’

Sarscha said nothing, simply smiling. Yes, she was all smiles today.

The former Atlantian prince was all grins. ‘Don’t worry, we’re going to get along just fine. I’ve been practicing with the sword. I’m even getting good at it.’

Threadfin groaned, closed his eyes, and massaged his temples, feeling a terrible headache coming on. Next time I see that meddlesome feathered menace, I will blow him up.

This day just kept on getting better.