Suddenly a parchment appeared before him and he quickly tore it open and read it. Then he shouted, ‘Brendan!’
Brendan was at that time in the common room, failing to charm Dilyna. The best he had managed to get from her was a shy giggle and he was coming to the conclusion that nice girls were a sight different than the ones he was used to flirting with. He heard his name called, said ‘Excuse me’ and hurried to Pug’s study.
He opened the door and said, ‘Yes?’
‘Get Sandreena, please, then both of you come back.’
Brendan did as was asked, found the sergeant-adamant in her quarters cleaning her armour and together they went to the study.
‘I have a task for you two if you’re willing,’ Ruffio said. ‘I’ve received intelligence from Captain Reinman and Xander that the storm is centred here on the island.’
Sandreena said, ‘I know little about weather-magic, but how can someone be sitting in the middle of your island throwing out magic of this power and not be seen by your magicians? It would be like shouting at the top of his lungs, wouldn’t it?’
‘Normally,’ said Ruffio. He rolled out a map of Sorcerer’s Isle, and put his finger in the middle. ‘If the spell originated here, we would have felt it. I think that attack by the sea demon was a distraction. I think two entities were dropped onto this island.’ He moved his hand to the south of the island. ‘If a storm was blown up from here, just enough to strike the southern part of the island, from the beach to the villa, and some flying entity – a magician or a summoned creature – carried that monster and dropped it in our midst, then another flyer could have reached the centre of our island undetected. Then,’ he drew a line with his finger, ‘imagine a ship out there somewhere, protected against the storm, but where the magic is being conjured. Here,’ he again pointed to the centre of the island, ‘a second magician waits. He doesn’t create magic, he merely anchors it.’
It was Brendan who said, ‘But he’s acting as the centre!’
Ruffio smiled. ‘Yes. Imagine a great engine of magic, a thing that can blow a storm out across a finite area, but it will simply blow in a straight line. If you want to confuse your opponent as to where it originates, have it circle around a different location.’
‘What do you want us to do?’ asked Sandreena.
Ruffio looked at Brendan like a teacher with a promising student.
‘We go find whoever it is and persuade them to stop doing what they’re doing, and then see what happens to this storm. I’ll go,’ said Brendan without hesitation.
‘You and Sandreena are the only two here with weapons and experience. I have no one else to send. I am sure I can find at least one young magician who will be willing to go with you, and protect you from any magic directed at you.’
‘Where do we look?’ asked Sandreena.
‘Out that door, turn right, and follow the hall to the last door on the left,’ said Ruffio. ‘Keep your bearings and go straight on without turning until you come to a small pond … by now it might be a big pond, given the rain. Circle to your left and get back on your original course and in a few hours you’ll come to some outcrops below three hills. Somewhere in those hills is where our unwelcome guest is likely to be.’
‘Caves?’ asked Sandreena.
‘No, so look for some sort of shelter, or magic against weather. Or a magician who doesn’t care how wet and cold he gets.’ He stood up and walked past them, beckoning for them to follow.
Ruffio walked through halls now dripping with water coming in through every crack and loose joint in the ceiling and walls until he reached a classroom currently occupied by half a dozen younger magicians trying to study despite the crashing chaos outside.
‘They’re researching weather-magic as well,’ said Ruffio. He turned to the group. ‘I have a favour to ask. I need someone to go out in the storm with Sandreena and Brendan to look for one or more magicians who may be hiding in the central hills of the island, to protect them from traps.’
Three of the six magicians instantly stood up and Ruffio said, ‘Donal, thank you.’
The magician was sandy-haired, fair-skinned, and wore a green robe with half sleeves. He nodded at Brendan and Sandreena and said, ‘We leave now?’
‘Sooner is better,’ said the sergeant-adamant.
‘We have some foul weather gear in the storage room,’ said Ruffio.
‘I’ll show you,’ said Donal.
Donal took them across an open expanse of grass where they were pummelled by rain so hard it soaked them to the skin before they reached the next building. ‘Seems a little pointless now,’ said Sandreena.
Brendan said, ‘No it’s not,’ as his teeth started to chatter.
Donal opened a large trunk and Brendan pulled out a heavily oiled canvas cloak, fleece-lined, with no seams. He pulled it on over his head, and stuck his arms through the sleeves. ‘It’s not the wet as much as the cold.’
‘I’ve fought in cold and wet before,’ said Sandreena.
Brendan grinned. ‘No doubt, but you know how it can rob your strength. And this is cold. I’ve been doused by storm-water coming out of the frozen north, and those winters are far worse than what should be normal here. This is worse than that ever was! Besides, we may be looking for a couple of hours before we have to fight.’ He turned and was surprised to see Ruffio donning gear. ‘I didn’t know you were coming as well.’
‘Two reasons,’ the magician said. ‘I can transport us back here quickly, should the need arise, and moreover, while Donal is protecting you from harm, I can be doling out harm myself.’
‘I feel better already,’ said Brendan, evincing a bravado he did not feel in the least.
Once dressed against the weather, they left the storage room and started walking towards the centre of the island.
Two hours later they came to a small plateau on top of a hillock. Brendan did not need Ruffio or Donal to tell him they’d found their goal. The energy put out by whoever was up there caused the hair on his arms to stand up, despite being wet. Ruffio moved slowly up a muddy, slippery path to where he could see, then signalled for the others to follow.
Now the storm was their ally, masking their approach. Brendan had lived his life in a coastal town and had seen monstrous storms coming out of the frozen north, rolling down the coast with bitter sleet and rain, but he had never seen one like this. The raindrops struck like rocks.
Half a dozen figures huddled under a sturdy lean-to which shielded them from the worst of the wind. Three of the figures were motionless, squatting on the rocks, while the other three stood upright, guarding the three on the ground. A small spindle of emerald flame rose from a point equidistant between the three squatting figures and from it emanated a sizzling, crackling shaft of green energy that shot into the sky.
Brendan came up behind Ruffio and his eyes widened. He had never seen the like of these creatures. They were lizard-featured, but three of them stood upright like men. One saw him and gave alarm in a hissing tongue, and suddenly battle was joined.
Donal incanted as Sandreena joined Brendan. All the lizard-men were unarmed, but the three guards quickly cast spells at the attackers.
A bolt of dark-purple energy exploded in Brendan’s face, but washed around it as if he had a perfectly clear shield of glass between the furious blast and his face. Feeling his hair almost dance from the discharge around his head, he was now very glad Donal was there. He didn’t hesitate but charged the caster, bowling him over with his shoulder and shield. The creature rolled over through the mud, hissing and baring pointed teeth. Brendan swung hard and his blade bounced off a protective ward of some sort.
‘Magic!’ he shouted, then instantly felt like an idiot; of course they were using magic. He quickly added, ‘Magic’s protecting them. How do I get past it?’
Ruffio shouted, ‘Duck!’ and Brendan hunkered down as a sizzling bolt of energy sped past him, illuminating the serpent-man as he tried to stand, knocking him backwards.
Brendan leaped to his feet and almost had them go out from under him as he slipped on the mud. He regained traction just in time to face a snarling mask of reptilian hatred, as the alien magician began to conjure another spell. Not waiting to see if anyone was protecting him, Brendan took a quick step forward, and thrust, skewering the serpent with his sword. With a gurgling cry, the creature fell, and Brendan pulled free his blade.
By the time Brendan had withdrawn his sword, Sandreena, who was far more experienced at combat, had knocked over the lean-to, brained one serpent-man with her mace and turned on the second one.
The second serpent-man threw a massive wave of fire at Sandreena, who reflexively crouched behind her shield. Brendan watched in shocked amazement as flames roared around the crouching sergeant-adamant. He felt the waves of heat wash over him several feet away, heard the hissing of water on rock surfaces being turned to steam, and wondered how she could survive that heat even with no direct flame on her. It must be part of the magical nature of her order, he decided, as he saw her spring to her feet the moment the flames stopped.
Brendan charged the last standing serpent-man at the same time Sandreena did. Whatever spell the last serpent-magician had been casting died before he finished as Sandreena struck him hard enough that all could hear bones cracking as his head twisted at an unnatural angle above his shoulders.
But still the three sitting figures did not move.
Sandreena had her mace drawn back, ready to strike, but Ruffio shouted, ‘Hold!’
For a brief moment, everyone was motionless, then Ruffio knelt next to one of the sitting figures, pulled off its hood and revealed another creature, one that was somehow different from the ones that now lay dead on the ground.
‘What are they?’ shouted Brendan.
‘Pantathians,’ said Sandreena.
‘Not like those we saw down on the island with Pug,’ said Sandreena.
‘Those three are Pantathian serpent-priests,’ said Ruffio, indicating the three dead magic-users. ‘They are the ones who have been plaguing our world for centuries. These other three are called Panath-Tiandn, or Shangri. They’re somehow related, but I’m not sure how. I’ve never seen any of them before but I’ve read about them. Pug and Magnus have been dealing with them for years.’ He indicated the three motionless, living creatures. ‘These three are powerful conduits for magic, but they’re nearly mindless on their own.’
‘What do we do with them?’ asked Sandreena. ‘They seem to be unaware of us.’
‘We proceed cautiously,’ said Ruffio. ‘One of the reasons our magic was intermittent is these creatures use energies alien to us. For as long as there have been stories about them it has been said their spells skew other magic.’
Spitting water as he spoke, Brendan said, ‘Well, I’m no expert in weather-magic, but it seems this storm is still getting worse. We need to do something.’
Ruffio turned to Donal. ‘See if you get any sense of what this spell is.’
The two magicians examined the three mute figures for nearly half an hour, and finally Donal said, ‘They aren’t casting magic, Ruffio. They are the magic.’
‘What do you mean?’ shouted Sandreena.
‘I mean they’re giving their life-energies to this spell and it will continue as long as they live.’
‘That’s all I needed to hear,’ said Sandreena, who raised her mace and brought it crashing down onto the head of one of the three still figures.
Brendan looked at Ruffio, who nodded once. Brendan ran the second creature though the back of the neck with his blade. Donal pulled a dagger from his belt and slit the throat of the last, and within seconds the three creatures were dead.
The storm shifted with the swiftness of someone snapping a piece of damp cloth. The wind that had been howling around the island was gone, moving as fast as a bolt shot from a crossbow. The resultant following wind as the weather shifted knocked everyone to the ground.
Brendan felt his ears pop. He rolled to his knees and when he sprang to his feet he saw something as strange as he could imagine.
As if a shroud had been pulled aside, a bright sunny sky had appeared above, and he could see dark thundering rain clouds speeding away to the south-east. Trees were swaying from the winds that had buffeted them seconds before, but now the air that struck him was warm and dry.
‘That was unexpected,’ said Sandreena as she put out a hand and helped Donal to his feet.
They watched as the storm vanished into the south and Brendan said, ‘What happened?’
‘Magic that I barely understand,’ said Ruffio. ‘One thing I have learned from Pug is that magic is as much an art as a science, and while we try to fathom its intricacies, so much of what we are capable of depends on the nature of the magic-user. These creatures have a unique relationship to magic, and maybe we will never truly understand how they achieve what they do.’ He looked around at the clearing sky, then at his still-soaked companions. ‘We can speculate about this later. Now we must go.’
‘Where to?’ asked Donal.
‘I’ll take them back to the villa,’ said Ruffio.
‘I’ll stay and see if they’re carrying anything of note,’ said Donal.
‘Good. If what we’ve surmised is correct, the storm should be blowing straight out in one direction from its origin.’ Ruffio closed his eyes and said, ‘Things are returning to normal.’ He held out his hands to Sandreena and Brendan and each took one. Ruffio nodded and suddenly he, Brendan and Sandreena were in Pug’s study.
Sounds of laughter and relief came from nearby and Brendan looked out of the window to see sun reflecting off the rainwater which was still pouring from the roof gutters.
‘From the feel of that heat, it should dry out here in a day or so,’ said Sandreena.
‘I’m curious as to what happens next,’ said Brendan.
‘Want to come and see?’ asked Ruffio.
Brendan took off his cloak and said, ‘Absolutely.’
‘Me too,’ said Sandreena as she doffed her rain gear.
Amirantha entered and looked at them with a grin. ‘I see you were successful.’
‘Come along,’ said Sandreena.
‘Where are we going?’
‘To see what happens next,’ said Brendan.
They all joined hands and suddenly were standing upon a windswept stone battlement, the highest vantage point at the Black Castle. To the south a massive wall of dark, roiling clouds, shot through with flashes of lightning, swung away from them, as if anchored to the right. Everything north of the malevolent dark front was clearing nicely and the air was warm, but the storm now seemed to have retreated as far as it was going to go, and appeared to be hunkered down, as if waiting.
Suddenly Sandreena said, ‘Look, there’s something out there!’
In the distance they saw what appeared to be a ship at anchor. It was right at the southern cornerstone of the magically generated storm.
‘Look at the size of that thing,’ said Amirantha.
Even from their distant position, they could tell it was huge. ‘It’s a Quegan trireme,’ said Ruffio. ‘Huge bastard, three banks of oars on either side, ram on the prow with mechanical barbs to seize a ship. Get it in their grasp, board and loot it, then release the barbs, backwater, and let the other ship sink.’ He made a grasp-and-release motion with his hands.
‘The storm has fallen away as most as it’s going to,’ said Brendan.
‘We must have broken the spell entirely,’ said Ruffio.
‘What next?’ asked Sandreena. ‘I’m tempted to have you fly out to that ship for a closer inspection, but given that we’re dealing with Pantathian magic, I don’t think that would be wise.’
‘I appreciate the curiosity,’ said Ruffio.
‘What’s that?’ asked Brendan, pointing to the south-east.
In the distance they could see another ship, making speed with all sails tacking against the fading storm. Ruffio said, ‘Unless I’m completely mistaken, that’s the
ship captained by Jason Reinman, the most fearless captain on the Bitter Sea.’
Brendan said, ‘And the most reckless. He’s making straight for that big ship. But how is he able to run so quickly against the wind like that?’
‘Bellard,’ said Ruffio. ‘He’s Reinman’s weather-magician and he can get that ship anywhere as fast as it can go. It’s one of the two secrets behind Reinman’s ability to get messages through for the Crown when no one else can.’
‘What’s the other secret?’ asked Sandreena.
‘Madness.’
‘Speaking of madness,’ said Amirantha, ‘I think he’s attacking that huge ship.’
Ruffio sighed audibly.
Captain Jason Reinman shouted, ‘All hands! Ready to board!’
Noah Williams, first mate on the Royal Messenger for sixteen years, had seen Jason Reinman give orders that others judged mad many times; but in all of those sixteen years, this was the single maddest order he had ever had to relay to the men. Still, he had vowed years before that if Jason Reinman ordered them to sail into the lowest hell, he would relay the order and follow the red-headed madman anywhere.
‘Boarders to starboard! Archers aloft!’ Mr Williams bellowed.
Bellard staggered to the rail as if on the verge of vomiting. Reinman shouted, ‘Downwind, you miserable souse! You know better.’
The magician took a deep breath and said, ‘I’m all right.’
‘Then change the wind up a bit to port, if you will. I need to bring this beauty around fast and neat alongside that ugly bastard.’
The vessel he indicated was racing towards them: a squat black thing that looked as much like a hideous insect as it did a ship. A long down-swept prow ended in a nasty ram, a massive black armoured thing of barbs and spikes. It had three banks of oars, moving in a slow rhythm. The sails were dark, making it even more ominous-looking than usual.
‘Quegan,’ said Williams, ‘but someone’s done a bit of work on her. Quegans like them all white and shiny.’
‘Captain!’ shouted down the knight-lieutenant of marines who had his bowmen in the yards above. ‘We see no crew aloft.’