16 Wargs and Spies

THE JOURNEY SOUTH along the coast and west to the city of Magog took almost four days. Clinging to the back of an oversized hairy mutt with jagged teeth the size of knives, and a personality to match, proved less frightening than getting on the creature’s back in the first place.

When Zane had introduced him to his mount the first time, it had snapped at him. Not unexpected if he was honest. If not for his quick reflexes, it would surely have taken an arm or worse. Being undead had advantages, but he wasn’t certain he’d survive without a head.

Volo had acquired the beasts at a disreputable-looking establishment, where it appeared Nephilim drank an alcoholic beverage called molv root. The Emim handler, who was also a barkeep by the name of Lopsy, was missing most of her left arm and a piece of her lower jaw. Seeing her didn’t warm Threadfin to the idea of riding wargs.

There was a stable at the rear, and Threadfin had found himself face-to-face with the monsters. It had taken them half an hour to get him on one of the mildest, not to mention, smallest of wargs. He’d kept insisting he could run or walk to Magog. There were no bridles or saddles, and sitting astride its back, which proved difficult for his short legs, he clutched the spikey fur of its neck for dear unlife as it took off.

Apparently, both his and Zane’s mounts were pups, but Volo’s was a tremendous beast almost eight foot tall at the shoulder. Threadfin had seen wargs before, but never one so big—likely they were bred for Rephaim or Anakim riders. Though the wargs moved at speed loping across the undulating terrain which became a blur to Threadfin, he sensed the larger beast was keeping a much more moderate pace for the younger ones. It wasn’t the best way to see the sights when visiting Raddhon that was for certain.

The wargs responded to sharp commands from Volo, who appeared to have a measure of control over them, whether because he was the Keeper, or some other reason, Threadfin didn’t know. Likely, he’s just used to riding them, or maybe it’s like us with dogs or kecci.

Each night they halted to make camp. His warg appeared to need the rest a lot less than he did, and the beasts would vanish for hours on end, no doubt hunting, while the trio sat about a fire eating fish or some sort of dried meat, the origin of which Threadfin didn’t ask after. He couldn’t help recalling that Sarscha had ridden a warg into the city of Byrsa after a victorious battle. Always knew she was nuts!

On the fourth day of travel, about midmorning, they reached the city and not a moment too soon, for he was certain he couldn’t have lasted another minute.

Volo left them with instructions on where to find a certain house while he led the beasts away. Creatures like those couldn’t be left to roam freely even among the Nephilim, he supposed. At least I got here in one piece, he thought, delighted to see the back of them.

If Threadfin had seen Bolam as oversized, stuffed to the gills and odd-smelling, then the city of Magog came as a surprise. Its streets were paved with stone flags and were quieter by comparison. Everything was cleaner and bigger.

The only concession was three creatures lumbering through the streets, huge warg-like beasts, much wider if not as tall as Volo’s mount. At first, Threadfin had taken them for enormous grolg until he spotted their teeth and eyes. Not to mention, two of them had riders. They fouled up the relatively clean streets like grolg did. When he pointed one out to Zane, she firmly gripped his hand and shoved it down, saying nothing and looking straight ahead. He decided to follow her lead.

Still, he found it impossible not to stare despite her silent warning. At least he could hide his interest beneath the hood of his cloak. There were other humans, some a little on the tall side, but most were the usual five to six feet. There were slaves in Magog too, but these ones weren’t held in pens. Instead, they slaved. Some were chained while others moved freely, but all bore an ownership mark on their faces of one description or another. He noted a few trotted behind those warg-grolg things, pulling short wagons and collecting the dung.

What he found most difficult was that the houses in this city were larger than those in Bolam, suggesting larger giants. When he spotted his first Rephaim in years — Volo didn’t count, being stooped over and aged — the pale membrane of its wings, the thick cord-like muscles of its arms and legs, as it strode down the middle of the street in mismatched steel armour, he saw why. It stood at least twelve foot tall at the shoulder. At least.

Zane shoved him further in against the buildings. In Magog, it seemed you didn’t walk in the street unless you had a death wish. It had been, after all, Gog’s home city until he had returned to Bashan to take the throne, which he thankfully never did.

Threadfin then noticed someone watching them. He tried to behave as though he hadn’t seen them. A slender figure, which he had at first taken for a tall human, stood in the shadow of a doorway across the wide street. It wasn’t human, however. She was Nephilim. At least, he had the impression she was female. Slighter in build than the others, he guessed her to be a Zuzim, a spy. If not for his viralic-enhanced sight, he would not have noticed her.

The former Aidari led him into a narrow alleyway, surprisingly clean. ‘You’ve got to quit staring at everything,’ she hissed as she rounded on him.

‘Well,’ he hissed back, ‘I can’t bloody well help it. Did you see those things?’

‘This is not your imperium, undeader.’

‘Our imperium.’

She rubbed at her forehead like she was getting a headache. Well, it wasn’t as if she’d spent a week drinking seawater and avoiding sharks, and other nasty underwater denizens. Not that he’d seen any, but his imagination had been full of them.

‘Look, Fin,’ she said, ‘we just have to avoid getting noticed. Volo said he’d meet us later.’

Too late for that I should think. She obviously hadn’t seen what he had. ‘Only my friends call me, Fin, by the way.’

‘Oh, I see, and we’re not friends?’

‘I just met you.’

‘Technically, that’s not true.’

‘I never get technical. You’d know that if we were friends.’

‘Okay, fine, have it your own way.’

‘Right, well, now that’s out of the way, where is this safehouse?’ He had no idea how she could follow the instructions Volo had given; after the fifth right turn and the seventh left, he’d lost track.

She grabbed his arm, and not gently either he noted with amusement. She was strong for a female breather and determined too. He could see what Desool liked about her. He still didn’t understand how that was going to work. The truth was, he was also starting to like her, but he figured it best not to let her know.

‘You just follow me,’ said Zane, ‘and do as I say. Magog doesn’t get visitors, you understand? Everyone here is supposed to be here, so you’ve got to quit staring. Try to look like you belong.’

‘But I don’t and neither do you.’

‘Quit being difficult. You’re here to help me, aren’t you?’

Huh, I thought you were helping me. ‘Didn’t you say I don’t need to fear the Nephilim? For the most part, they ignore humans, right?’

‘They do, until they notice us. Besides, it’s not Nephilim in general I’m worried about. The Horites now have spies working for them, and most of their clan has gathered in Magog. We need to be careful, Fin. If they figure out who you are, we won’t survive.’

He gently shrugged off her hand, and made to step out into the street, ‘You underestimate me, breather. I am a mage, aren’t I?’

She grabbed hold of him again, this time her fingers digging in like a vice. ‘It’s not you I’m worried about either. You’re undead, so you’re halfway there. I’m not, thank you very much.’

‘Oh, like I haven’t heard that joke before.’ She squeezed his arm tighter. ‘Okay, okay, you can quit trying to rip my arm off. Between you and that warg ... well, never mind. You know, most people enjoy my sense of humour.’

She let go, and shoved past to the alley’s edge. ‘I’m not most people.’

‘Huh, you know, I didn’t notice.’

She double-checked her hood and veil were concealing her face, and led him onward.

Roughly an hour later they halted at a nondescript doorway, which for all its height, looked far too familiar to doors back home. Then again, how many ways were there to design a door? She gave it a light rap four times then two and waited. Moments later, it opened inward to reveal a yawning darkness.

Zane shoved him inside. Threadfin’s viralic sight adjusted quickly to find Volo towering over them again, in all his ancient, half-bent, wrinkled glory.

‘I had begun to think something had happened,’ the former Keeper grumbled in Icarthian. ‘I told you, no sightseeing. It’s too dangerous.’

The giant invited them deeper into the dark interior. There was a faint glow coming from a room at the end of a long narrow corridor. From Threadfin’s perspective the house was massive, but seeing Volo stoop lower than usual, hemmed in by the walls, he realised it was a hovel as far as a Nephilim was concerned.

‘Did you learn anything?’ asked Zane, turning as she entered the room. The walls were all stone, but there was decent furniture of what Threadfin took to be oak or some similar wood.

He chose a large wooden bench, climbed up and sat, feeling like a child, considering how much bigger everything was. It was unnerving. ‘Is the sorceress here in Magog?’ he demanded.

Volo shut the door, and sat in a large stone chair stuffed with cushions, more like a throne than anything else. ‘Questions, questions. You little ones don’t have any patience, do you?’ When they both opened their mouths to respond, or in Threadfin’s case to disagree, the elderly giant raised his hands to stall them. ‘I couldn’t risk asking too many questions or the handler might’ve gotten suspicious. He wasn’t who I expected. The handlers are a different sort in Magog. Thankfully, he didn’t recognise me.

‘He didn’t know about any sorceress, but I have other contacts, and I already found one. If the sorceress has Nanel under her sway then she may or may not be physically present in the city.

‘What I do know is that a rebellion is about to erupt. Until now, it has been sporadic, but they plan to take over all of Raddhon. They are gathering tonight. That contact I mentioned will be along shortly to fill you in on the details, and to help you plan your next move.’

Threadfin glanced at Zane, who’d remained standing. She always seemed to have energy for a breather, always on the move. ‘Then our next move must be to attend that meeting,’ she said. ‘We need to know what they’re planning so we can counter it.’

Volo shook his massive head. ‘I have my spies, loyal only to me, and they will tell us all we need to know. Ah,’ he added, cocking his head at a sound in the corridor outside. ‘Here she comes now.’

‘And you can trust her?’ asked Threadfin, as the door to the room opened, admitting an unusual-looking Nephilim. Slender as a willow, she flowed into the room. Unlike other Nephilim females he’d seen, she looked much more human. The pupils of her eyes were overlarge and dark, her hair long and braided with bones. She stood only at seven feet, which was small by Nephilim standards. Then he realised she had been the one watching them from across the street, and that he had also met her once before.

Volo gestured to her as she approached his side. ‘This is Moll, my master of spies. She is of the Zuzim clan. I suppose you could call them a secretive subsection of our society.’

‘Actually, we’ve met,’ said Threadfin. ‘Now, where is this meeting being held?’ He felt on edge. Astra could well be within reach, and he didn’t have the Crystal Sword with him. Sure, he’d decided it didn’t matter, but how was he going to stop her if she had the Shathra Stone?

Zane gave him a hard stare, but he was in no mood for coddling the old giant. The bastard had spies and he knew stuff, simple as that.

Volo shifted in his chair and glanced at the Zuzim, who then spoke in practised Icarthian. ‘Yes, I remember you. You are the imperial viral mage, the weird brother of the imperatrix.’

‘Hey now, I wouldn’t say I’m weird. A little eccentric, I suppose, but who isn’t?’ Who did she think she was, anyway?

‘Why are you here?’ the Zuzim spy demanded. ‘You are not needed. You should leave.’

Now everyone knew how patient Threadfin Todder could be. Just ask anybody with a heartbeat. Famous for his unending forbearance, but she was beginning to get on his nerves. ‘My business here is imperial business, but more than that, it involves all of you. The sorceress—’

What happened next, he never saw coming. The door had opened behind Moll as he’d spoken and someone had slipped inside. At first, he’d been too focused on Moll to take much notice. After all, Volo had kept a servant before. It wasn’t until Zane cried out that he realised what was happening.

The newcomer, a male Zuzim, leapt at Threadfin who just managed to use his magic in time. A shield of viralic power repelled the assassin’s attack, which consisted of two ultra-thin blades aimed at his neck. His counter knocked the Zuzim aside.

Too late, Threadfin spotted Volo slumped in his chair. Beside the old giant, Moll stood with a similar assassin’s blade, which she then slid back up inside her right sleeve. She had stabbed Volo through the neck.

Zane gave a squawk behind him, and he realised the male Zuzim’s attack had been a distraction. They knew who he was. He turned to see Zane in a vice-like grip, another thin blade to her neck, a bead of blood licking its tip.

‘You see,’ said Moll taking a few languid steps towards him. ‘We don’t need you, as I said. You should go.’

Threadfin thought about it, knowing that they had a standoff and therefore, time. After all, they feared his magic, and if they killed Zane, he’d kill them in turn. These spies didn’t strike him as the fanatical die-for-the-cause types, which made him wonder if they served the sorceress, or if they were being paid.

The blade slipped back down her sleeve, and he had no doubt she was very skilled with it. ‘Virals can lose limbs without bleeding,’ she said in an almost uninterested tone. ‘You can lose fingers, toes, arms, and legs, and keep functioning. I know because I’ve practised with others of your kind. I wonder how your breathing friend here will manage without, oh I don’t know, let’s say her tongue for a start?’

There was the sound of a scuffle behind him, but he didn’t turn, gaze locked on Moll. He heard a muffled screech and knew he was out of time.

A low thud followed, and he saw Moll’s eyes widen in surprise. Seeing his chance, he struck at the Zuzim with a savage swipe of his power shaped like a sword. It should have cut her two, had she remained in position. However, she moved with the speed and agility of one of those tigers in Tage he’d heard of. Then, she was gone, fleeing through the door.

Threadfin turned to help Zane and froze. Kneeling over her, of all people, was Oracle. The former Aidari was slumped next to the body of the other Zuzim, holding her neck in both hands.

Threadfin gently touched Zane’s arm. ‘You still alive?’

She glanced up at him, and her eyes widened when she spotted the female viral. ‘Still got a tongue in my head if that’s what you mean. Otherwise, no.’ She removed one bloodied hand and jerked her thumb at Oracle. Zane had a shallow wound in her neck, but it could’ve been worse.

Straightening, he spoke to the other viral, ‘You should get after that spy before she tells anyone where we are, and who we are.’

Oracle cocked her head a little while stroking Zane’s head with the other. It was all a little freaky if anyone was asking him. ‘No need,’ she replied in a cryptic manner.

The door behind them thumped open, and Threadfin whirled. Moll stumbled back into the room, her dark eyes popping out of her head, a vein in her forehead threatening to burst. Sweat poured down her face. One leg after the other until she halted next to him.

‘Hand the blade to him,’ Oracle instructed the spy, who raised her arm, eyes growing wider. Threadfin took the blade, and then turned to Oracle.

‘You know,’ he said, ‘I’m not going to ask.’ Not how you found us, how you then got in here without using the only door, or how you’re doing whatever you’re doing to Moll. Then with a tinge of pride, which was an odd feeling for him to have, he added, ‘Good job, though.’

Zane stared at Moll, as though this was all perfectly normal. ‘She’s not dangerous right now, is she?’

Moll closed her eyes and collapsed. ‘No,’ Oracle said.

‘You know,’ said Threadfin, ‘you’re almost the right amount of scary. Maybe a little bit over the line.’ Can she do that to a viral too? Should I be worried? He decided it might be best not to get on her wrong side.

‘Right, yes, I see,’ said Zane staring down at the spy with a look of apprehension, and Threadfin couldn’t blame her. ‘Well, it looks like Volo’s spies weren’t loyal. It’s Nanel behind this. She must have paid them off, or found some sort of leverage.’

‘You mean Astra Dar,’ said Threadfin, ‘or more accurately, Tartaros. Trust me, the Darkness will use anybody and anything to get its way, and it’ll toss them aside once it’s done with them.’

Zane met his eyes. ‘We don’t know where they’re meeting. We don’t know anything. Volo never got the chance to tell us. There probably isn’t any meeting.’

‘You’re forgetting something,’ said Threadfin with a grin. ‘We have a Zuzim to answer questions.’ He glanced at Oracle. ‘Uh, we do, don’t we?’

The viral nodded with a slight smile before she left their side to go and examine Volo’s body.

Zane, still looking a little shaken, got to her feet with Threadfin’s help. ‘I doubt she’ll talk.’

‘You just saw what my friend Oracle can do,’ he whispered, ‘didn’t you?’

Zane nodded, ‘Sure yes, and it was impressive, but ...’ she spun about staring at the walls. ‘How did she get in here?’

He glanced back at the massive corpse of Volo sitting in his chair, with Oracle hovering by his side. He felt sorry for the old bastard. At least, as far as a Nephilim death was concerned, it wasn’t all bad. As far as he knew, they did not like dying in their beds. I guess an armchair is a slight improvement. ‘We need to move soon. We should interrogate her now.’

‘I can help with that,’ said Oracle.

‘Finding them will do no good without the sword though,’ said Threadfin. ‘Last time I checked, Droop had it.’

Oracle’s face darkened, and for all the world, she looked angry. ‘Yes, he did have it.’

‘Where are the others?’

‘They are on their way,’ said Oracle, in a manner more mysterious than he thought necessary. ‘However, Tinny did not make it, and nor did the Atlantian, I think.’

‘Oh, I see.’ He felt bad about Asher now that he thought about it. The man hadn’t deserved to die like that and besides, Threadfin had just begun getting used to the breather. He shoved aside his sadness, trying to focus, and nodded at the sleeping Moll. ‘Okay, so can you get some answers from her?’

Oracle said nothing, kneeling beside the Zuzim. She placed her hands on either side of the Nephilim’s large head, and pressed her fingers into the temples.

After a few moments she relaxed, letting go of the spy. ‘I know where the king’s sister is.’

‘Well,’ Zane said when the viral didn’t elaborate, ‘where?’

‘It would be easier if I were to lead you there.’

Zane frowned.

‘Huh,’ muttered Threadfin, ‘somehow, I don’t think it will be that easy, and I’m still not convinced it’s what we should be doing. Where is the sorceress?’

‘She does not know,’ said Oracle, ‘but the sorceress has a deep connection to Nanel. The king’s sister is still your best bet for now.’

‘Oracle, can you keep watch for us, until we’re ready to leave? There may be others in the shadows, waiting. If they learn Moll is dead, they might attack.’

The female viral gave him a long cold stare, but then nodded, leaving the room through the door this time. She seemed reluctant to go.

When she was gone, Threadfin turned back to Zane and said, ‘We need to get to Bashan and the Guardian king. He has the Shathra Stone, right?’ He didn’t want to utter those next words. ‘I think we’ll need those bloody wargs back.’

Zane walked over to the chair and glared at the bowed head of the former Keeper of the Stone. ‘Maybe we don’t need to go as far as Bashan. There is a new Keeper after all.’

Threadfin joined her, having retrieved the blade and its sheath from the other assassin, stuffing it inside his cloak. ‘You know where he is then?’

She nodded. ‘Desool doesn’t trust anyone except me these days.’ She paused and then added, ‘By the way, the new Keeper is female.’

For a moment he stared at her, wondering why that should be of significance.

The former Aidari dug into her red cloak and pulled out something wrapped in rags. It looked round and small. ‘I wasn’t going to show you, but I think now that I must. I am the new Keeper of the Stone, appointed by the king. The first human to hold the position. It was one of the reasons for my visit to Volo. I had hoped to learn more from him. And no, he didn’t know.’

Threadfin stared at the object in her hand. ‘Is that ...?’ But it couldn’t be. It was too small. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘I didn’t trust you?’ Zane then uncovered it with slow reverent movements. The swirl of colour and light was unmistakable. In her hand, she held the Shathra Stone.

‘You had it with you all this time?’ he blurted, unable to keep his voice from reaching a higher pitch.

She winced. ‘Like I said—’

He flapped a hand at her. ‘Yes, yes, I know. No one bloody well trusts old Fin Todder. Not like I deserve all this lack of respect, you know. I’ve done plenty to earn some the past few years.’

‘I think you should use it.’

‘Eh?’

Zane sighed. ‘It goes against my better judgement, but I believe we need to use it to draw out Astra Dar. I think she will come herself if she knows you have it. Stop her, and we stop this whole mess.’

Threadfin gave it a few moments before answering. ‘I don’t have the Crystal Sword anymore. Without it, killing the sorceress may not be possible.’

‘True,’ said Zane, ‘but we don’t stand a chance anyway without dealing with Nanel and her rebellion. Don’t you see, if she sent the Zuzim to kill Volo, then she may know he didn’t arrive alone. There’s a good chance she knows we’re here. We’re trapped.’