7 One Portal Shuts

STOOD OUTSIDE IN the desert heat on a stony barren hilltop, Threadfin faced the South Adalcis Ocean. The sprawling mining town of Cantrip was spread out below him. He held the Crystal Sword in one hand, finding it at times both light and heavy, as though it constantly changed its mind. The dying sun cast a ruddy glare across the ancient whitewashed buildings and colourful domes, and the sword’s crystalline structure turned to the colour of blood.

Since the events at Elysium, Threadfin hadn’t touched the sword. He didn’t fully trust it, but it was more than that. He felt a resentment towards it. Within the artefact was the magic of the Aura, a power that had once been contained in crystal form a thousand years ago. Lost to time, it had become a part of his soul at his birth. There was also the uncomfortable knowledge that attaining this artefact had cost him his closest friend.

He must have stood there like a fool for a long time, just staring at the damn thing. Tezcat had gathered a small clot of virals to accompany him, before she had returned his sister to Icarthya. They now watched him, waiting.

These virals weren’t exactly the best examples of his kind. There was Droop, Forge, Lip and Tinny, along with a strange female known as Oracle. This one had a propensity to stare, and right now he was the object of her attention. He rolled his shoulders, trying to concentrate. They all stood behind him, along with his new so-called Darken.

Oracle moved up to stand at his side. She raised her hand as though to touch his. ‘May I?’ she asked in a gentle voice. ‘I have made a study of soul shards, and this one is the oldest and most powerful.’

After a moment’s hesitation, he nodded, uncertain why. Perhaps she knew something he didn’t. It couldn’t hurt.

‘This might prove easier with both of us working together,’ she whispered, so the others wouldn’t hear, as she placed her hand on his, which was holding the sword.

Truth be told, he felt glad he wasn’t using it alone. A silly thing for a mage to be feeling but there it was. She rose higher in his estimation, a fair degree in fact, reminding him a little of both Tezcat and Lyrin.

She entwined her fingers in his, and he felt an odd tingle, hoping to the Spectrum above it was her magic. He didn’t need another complication.

The Crystal Sword glowed, and Oracle guided his hand, helping him draw an opening with the sword’s tip, large enough to accommodate two abreast. The sword left an afterglow in the air outlining a doorway. Before, he would have used the aura’s power from within him, and entered his reflection in a mirror, or he would have turned himself into a reflection and created a vortex.

Now he was drawing pictures in the air like a child, albeit one with a large sword. Despite his inner griping, he had to admit Oracle appeared to know what she was doing.

She removed her hand, and he reluctantly let the sword drop. He allowed Droop to take it from him, and Tinny handed him the leather sheath. They reverently wrapped it once more in its oil wrappings. One of them could carry it.

Threadfin didn’t like touching it any more than he had to. I guess I’m just going to have to start trusting folk, he thought, especially my own kind.

Oracle smiled at him, and he found himself grinning back. He then switched his grin to a scowl instead. After all, what would Pole have said? Something that would have cut him down to size, no doubt. Noticing Asher Tone, Threadfin turned his scowl on the Atlantian. The breather looked nervous.

The glowing outline wasn’t much to look at. ‘Um, now what?’ Threadfin asked. ‘You know something about this sword, right? You studied it?’

Oracle shrugged. ‘There was not much to study, but several myths. What I know is related to lesser soul shards. Maybe try touching the portal with your magic. See what happens.’

‘Well, magical experimentation is my area,’ he said, stretching his arms and cracking his fingers. He paused before adding, ‘It just doesn’t always go according to plan. Almost never, in fact.’ He knew he was stalling.

He touched his magic, awakening it enough for a thin tendril of viralic power to leave one fingertip of his left hand, and touch the portal’s edge. Just the lightest of pressure. No point blowing them all off the hilltop.

A whooshing sound knocked him off his feet and onto his ass, where he seemed to devote an inordinate amount of time for a mage. When he looked up at the portal, a glistening surface greeted him, and not a vortex as he’d expected. I guess the aura’s power operates differently when it’s in the sword, or maybe it’s got something to do with Volcanus’ soul being in there with it.

‘Not bad,’ said Asher, who had remained silent throughout, and had now decided to ruin a good thing. ‘I’m not used to seeing magic used in this way, but I—’

A huge shadow crossed the face of the shining portal, on the other side. Sensing danger, Threadfin leapt to his feet, shouting at the mages to organise themselves in a loose crescent behind him. They were supposed to go through it, not let something in. Like a fool he’d not held onto the Crystal Sword which was nicely wrapped up and strapped to Droop’s back again. Threadfin ordered him to unwrap it a second time.

The huge shadow stopped moving, but something else came through. It was a smaller creature on six legs, each ending in sharp talons. It also had a long head filled with large teeth. Behind it, as it exited the portal, there followed a long-horned thrashing tail. It leapt at them with dizzying speed. Threadfin struck at it with his magic, and missed, sending up a fountain of dry clay and stones, while his new Darken ducked for cover.

Droop also managed to duck aside as he tried to unwrap the sword, Tinny cursing and helping him. Forge and Lip both used their talents, with the former sending a roasting blast of power at the creature, setting it aflame. Lip opened his mouth, and dozens of black needles struck the creature. It shrieked and writhed, but it didn’t look anything like dying.

The attacks had stunned it, though. Threadfin realised another was coming through. He touched the portal again, which vanished just in time.

Asher was keeping well out of it, as well he should, though he had a slender dagger in hand. The creature spotted him, whirled, and went straight for the breather, ignoring everyone else. Its six legs launched it at the Atlantian, jaws opening wide. When it was within a foot of the horrified breather’s head, it exploded.

Threadfin turned and saw Oracle behind him to his left. She was holding her head, but the concentration in her face, the focus in her eyes, told him she was responsible. Yep, I am very glad she’s coming along.

For the Atlantian’s part, the former prince was covered in sticky guts and greyish-blue innards. Asher Tone looked positively miserable.

Threadfin grinned. This day wasn’t going near as bad as he’d feared.

‘What was that thing?’ cried Tinny.

Both he and Droop had managed to unwrap the sword, the latter now holding it pointlessly in both hands. He frowned and then swore, realising he had to wrap it up again. ‘Never mind what it was,’ snapped Droop, ‘what was that massive thing on the other side?’

‘That thing’s mother?’ offered Tinny, with a gesture at the creatures remains, receiving a glare from Droop.

Oracle looked a little unsteady, and she was grimacing as though in pain. ‘Nice job,’ said Threadfin.

‘It has been some time since I have used that skill,’ she said in a quiet voice. ‘I don’t get much practice at blowing things up.’

‘Well, lucky for our dear Atlantian friend you remembered how.’

Asher approached, his dagger still in hand, looking angry rather than shocked. ‘Now what do we do?’

‘Well, you should get a bath,’ suggested Threadfin. He waved a hand in front of his nose. ‘There’s an unfortunate aroma, and I have standards when it comes to travelling companions, never mind Darkens.’

‘That isn’t what I meant, and you know it!’

‘We’ll have to get a ship, I suppose. I don’t think magical travel is going to be an option from here on.’

‘But, I mean,’ stammered the Atlantian, ‘what happened?’

‘Let’s just say, they’re on to us. They know we can use the sword to travel, and they’re not going to let us do that.’

‘Well then, what good is having a magical sword, if you can’t bloody well use one when you need to?’ Asher seemed uncharacteristically grumpy, raising Threadfin’s estimation of him. In that moment, he reminded him just a little of Podral Pole.

‘My thoughts exactly,’ said Threadfin. ‘See, we’re getting along already. Seeing eye to undead eye as it were.’ He slapped his Darken on the back before removing his hand and wiping it off on his robe with a grimace.

‘Seemed like that thing was waiting for us, you know. It knew before you opened the portal, which means it may know what we’re going to do next.’

Threadfin flapped a hand at him. ‘You worry too much.’ He turned and stared at the messy remains, smoke still rising from them. Oracle’s ability could come in handy, and those talents of the other two, though Droop and Tinny both seemed useless.

Threadfin slapped his hands together. ‘Well, everyone, I guess we’re going to need a ship.

‡

Myral Azarm walked the crooked path to the narrow precipice. A gust of wind greeted her as she neared, sweeping up from the forested valley below. The air was thinner here, and she felt tired.

Their voices echoed in her head, a cacophony of distinct individuals, melded together into an unlikely whole.

It was as beautiful as it was terrifying.

Most of the vampires roamed the forests far below, hunting. She did her best to focus on other things when they hunted, though she could never completely block them out. One thing she never did was focus on what they were hunting. Or whom. For months she had attempted to train them to hunt animals and not humans, but she’d quickly realised the limits of her control over them.

What was worse was their frenzy had begun to affect her, to the point she wanted to hunt too. It took every bit of willpower when their bloodlust was up, to resist them.

Perhaps a dozen of the vampires remained with her, surrounding her on the mountain top, guarding her. She couldn’t see them, but knew they were there. She heard their thoughts. She felt them.

When she reached the arranged meeting point, she halted. No one was there. The narrow precipice hanging out over the air stood empty. She wondered if she’d understood the message, or if her mind had become muddled. Maybe there was never a message and insanity had begun to creep in.

Then she sensed a presence on the precipice and realized it wasn’t empty after all. Closing her eyes for a moment, she found herself in the head of the lead vampire, Lycus. She tasted the blood in his mouth and felt his satisfaction as he finished his meal. The soul had tasted best of all, full of youth and vigour, and—

Myral bit back on her revulsion, her sadness for the young man, her disgust at the salty taste, and her desire for more. No matter how hard she tried to get used to those moments, she couldn’t. A silent command. She was in danger. She turned Lycus from his meal back towards the mountain, bringing the horde with him.

‘You need not have bothered,’ said a voice, and Myral opened her eyes. It had been no more than a few seconds.

A figure had formed on the precipice, or rather, it was still forming. A dark swirl echoed the shape of a person, but the former priestess knew who it was.

‘They cannot protect you, priestess,’ said the still-forming shape. It seemed to lose cohesion, only to regain it again, and slowly a face formed. It was that of a woman, though she spoke with a male voice.

‘I know who you are, sorceress,’ answered Myral, ‘and I don’t fear you.’

‘Then you don’t know who I am.’ The face twisted into a scream, though it made no sound, before it resolved into a calmer visage a moment later. ‘I am, Lucifer, prince of Tartaros.’

Myral folded her arms, doing her best to look unimpressed, but unfortunately, she knew the name. She felt the other vampires reaching the foothills, clambering up towards her at speed.

Lucifer produced an arm, which appeared to form a grasping hand and then a fist, losing cohesion then regaining it. He flung the arm wide, and Myral uttered a cry, collapsing to her knees with jarring force.

She felt them hurled far across the island of Rize, far to the south where they landed in a desert. All of them, including the ones who’d accompanied her up the mountain. Thousands of vampires. Their cries of anger and confusion filled her head, as though they stood beside her shouting in her ears. She clutched her skull for a moment until she could regain control, and then rose, staring at the manifestation of Tartaros.

‘Ah,’ said Lucifer, with a sigh. ‘Now, isn’t that better? Some privacy. I don’t like interruptions any more than I do interference. I enjoy your pets, perhaps more than you do, but they can be so ... inconvenient at times.’

‘What do you want from me?’

There was a chuckle, part female, and part something else. The voice appeared to change as often as Lucifer’s form. The screaming face of a woman became a man’s visage once more. ‘I want you, but then you knew that, and still you came. You could have resisted my summons, but you didn’t even try.’

‘I want nothing to do with you, spawn of darkness.’

‘Come now, let’s not lie to one another, Myral. You are a daughter of Darkness, your legacy of blood and death, of vampiric hunger, belies your words. You feel it inside you, don’t you? A desire to feed. Why do you resist it?’

‘I won’t serve you, Lucifer. The sorceress may be your plaything, but I will never be that.’

‘And I wouldn’t have it any other way, my dear. I don’t seek to control you. Where would the fun be in that? I just wish to offer you freedom.’ The strange arm emerging from the writhing mass once again pointed to the valley below before gesturing as if to take in the entire world.

‘I have decided not to destroy it all,’ said Lucifer. ‘In fact, I have come to know and enjoy this ... existence. This world will need a ruler once I am done with it. It will need a queen, I think. Who better than one who is already a queen of vampires?’

A shimmering echo shot past Myral’s sight and in its wake the world transformed around her. A strange city full of golden towers with silver spires filled the valley before another shimmer revealed a vast desert kingdom. One after another, before the final shimmer returned the Rizen valley as it was meant to be.

Feeling dizzy, she struggled to reorientate herself. Lycus and the others, who had begun the return journey as soon as they had landed in the desert, halted. Their voices filled her head, confused, and excited. There was a certain energy to the ancient virals, a desire to hunt, to kill, to rend soul from flesh and flesh from bone. That desire fed her own, a desire to be free of all and anyone. True freedom, where she was the ruler, and all others bowed before her. The taste of blood filled her mouth, but now it didn’t repulse her as it had earlier.

It excited her.

Lucifer nodded, the screaming visage flickering in and out. ‘You feel it, don’t you? The truth of my words, the validity of my promise. You will rule this world entire, my queen. A true ruler, unlike any who have gone before.’

It took a moment to find her voice, her body shaking, damp with sweat. When it did come, it came out as a croaking whisper. ‘What must I do, my lord?’

The leering grin she received in answer should have terrified her. But it didn’t.

Lucifer then returned her children to her, and extended a hand. Thousands of vampires, above her on the mountain, below and behind, as far as the eye could see. All visible and all hungry for blood.

Her children.

Myral licked her lips, and then reached out and took the hand of Darkness.