Darkness has Fallen (Elf World Saga Book 2) Read online

  “Have a seat Mordu, we have things to talk about…”

  Reese hurriedly complied. “Colonel… I.”

  “Mordu, tell me where you got the fulcrum?”

  Mordu was startled by the question… “The Waste,” he blurted out.

  Myst made a gesture of come on, “Damn, am I going to have to pull each answer from him…”

  Coughing Reese said, “Ankphora, deep in the ruined city, atop the Tower of Ethir Dûr, that is where the El Sila Mor was.”

  Myst turned to Ious who had cocked his head in non-understanding, “in the old tongue ‘Ethir Dûr’ is out-watcher of darkness and ‘El Sila Mor’ the bright star of night.”

  Mordu Reese nodded his head in agreement with Myst’s somewhat shaky translation, ancient elvish was not his best subject...

  “And what does it do…?”

  Modru ducked his head, “I know not what it does.”

  Myst looked angrily at him… in a dangerous scowl.

  “I don’t Colonel, I swear it, by the Lord of Wealth Côl Mallen I swear I don’t!”

  Myst casual sat forward, looking at Reese, “And the Baron of Summerhall…?”

  Reese looked in the direction of Verga’s cell, “He provided the information on where to find the El Sila Mor fulcrum device.”

  Myst stood and walked to the door, paused a second, “What were you to say when you met the female elf at the Shrine of Edessa?”

  Mordu looked at him and answered “O môr henion…” Reese provided the translation, “Of the child of night.”

  Myst and Ious followed the constable back to their weapons, and as soon as they could they left the Palace of Justice, out of the main gate they paused, “Ious, you should do as I told you, leave at quick as possible, this will shake the Empire, a dark tide of blood will flow and soak the land and it may be the shadow will fall upon us…” Myst paused, and shook his head ruefully, “But I could use you for another task?”

  “Does it include speaking anymore the Ancient Language of our people.., because I must tell you, we elves stop using it after the Time of Sorrows, what twenty six generations ago, and well I’m a bit rusty!”

  Myst grabbed his shoulder, “You and me both, it's the only thing in college I nearly failed… But all of the Old Speech you will need is ‘O môr henion’…”

  ~

  Chapter 8

  The City Canal bisected Palantar, cutting the city into half, running mostly from east-northeast to west-southwest, with boat harbors at each end, most of the ships trading north used the eastern port and those going south the western port, and on most days traffic on the canal was heavy and frequently a mess of boats and barges. At its widest it spanned two hundred yards wide, and at its narrowest by the City Island, less than fifty yards of open water on either side of the island.

  The house barge was tied up on the south bank of the Canal about a half mile from the south east harbor, in the shadow of one of the elegant stone bridges that spanned the water connecting the two sides of the city. In the heavy and darkly decorated elegant main salon, Anton Amur, the Dark Lord, stood at a port window looking out at the river traffic. This morning it was chilly with heavily overcast he noticed, he did not feel cold or heat not being quiet alive, but the overcast he certainly appreciated, as the Dark Lords tend to weaken in direct sunlight. He sighed, it was one of the very few weaknesses that came with the power.

  Long ago he had survived the very dangerous and seldom successful transformation. The agonizing ritual had taken part of his soul and bound him to a Greater Fiend, a dark servant of the Goddess of Death. But that transformation happened such a long time ago, and now days he did not fully remember his mortal life, or how it was taken away.

  “For this to work,” he spoke in a dry, low and heavy voice, like the sound one would expect to hear from a not quite living creature bound of darkest evil, and not be disappointed, “we need all parts of the device to work..., and so far that has not happened--- and we are running out of time. For the greatest impact it must happen during the celebration, the most powerful nobles and merchants from around the sun empire will be here, and many of the lesser ones as well. If this thing happens at that time, the effect will be utter devastation to their empire...”

  Paras Korfu glanced over at her ‘partner’ Shen Ramzes before speaking, “Dark Lord, our Mistress demands results, and we will deliver,” it was always good to remind him that they worked not for him, but for Ver Sitha, High Priestess of the Cult of Syth Tor, head of Shadow Elf Foreign Intelligence, the Dread Princess of Night and Shadows, and second in succession to the throne of the Grand Empress of the Empire of Night... Not that that would worry him she knew, nothing worried him, he was truthfully beyond that and most emotions, but maybe killing her out of hand would be more trouble than he would want to bother with, or so she hoped?

  But he could kill her partner if he wanted, hell she would be happy to have the competition removed, particularly in a way that wouldn't come back on her… but if he killed one of them, he would possibly kill both of them she thought and so did nothing to provoke his anger.

  Paras continued in her soft whisper, her voice always seemed to sound like she was seducing her prey, but the Dark Lord would not be tempted in her, well not in that way at least, “We have a plan to acquire the key and remove our assets from the city. In an hour we will have advanced to plot significantly. We have also sent word to the sun elf female of an alternative location to pass the fulcrum once we re-acquire it.”

  He turned and stoked the dry leathery skin on his long sharply angled face..., pondering the two females before him. Paras was he suppose dispassionately, the more attractive, not that he felt those desires anymore but it was an weapon in her formidable arsenal..., and she was certainly the smarter of the two. At five foot seven she was tall for a shadow elf female, her raven black hair, amber eyes, and yellow tinted olive skin was par for the course, but they were put together in a way most living men would enjoy, enjoy very much he supposed. And she certainly took full advantage of her assets in manipulation and seduction of both the men and women she came in contact with. She would be the more useful to him of these two, if he needed to make an example to motivate his people...

  The other Shen Ramzes was the more brutal and direct, she enjoyed killing even more than most of their kind, and it made her both very deadly and somewhat unbalanced mentally. She was an inch or two shorter of the assassins, but a few pounds heavier, her obsessive practice with weapons had produced an unusually impressive upper body development, she could almost pass for a Thull, the cross-breed of a Horc and Dwarf that the Star Elves like to produce for their slave fighting pits. Her black hair braided in long dreadlocks, with pale yellow eyes, and dusty greyish-olive skin, she was the embodiment of a ‘good’ elf’s nightmares. The Dark Lord also found her to be overly lecherous and depraved, not that those were necessarily a problem if she could control herself, and that was certainly not uncommon traits with Shadow Elves. but If not controlled as she had difficulty with, then it was a weakness that could cause problems. She particularly hated males, except when mating, then she preferred more than one at a time, sometimes she even let them live afterwards… Understandably that made some of his fighters warry. Yes, if he needed to make an example, she would be the one.

  “Then, you had best be off, bring me the fulcrum, and if possible get the asset clear, if not possible then… remove them from the game.”

  ~

  Agnarr Stonecrow stalked through the cobblestone street, a heavy cloak pulled low over his face, he was not in disguise and that made him nervous, very nervous. He was reasonably sure, and so was that bitch Paras Korfu who talked him into this, that the Sun Elves would not kill him at first sight like they would a Shadow Elf, but as he got closer to the guard post the less sure of that outcome he was becoming.

  He was passing thru thickening crowed his destination on the City Island was in the heart of the city, and he was going to die he thought. His peopl
e were almost constantly at war with the Sun Elves, well with everyone… even each other, and the guards would likely kill first and ask questions latter, he would in their place, but death comes to all... and to die in glorious battle was the command of the Storm God the Frost Elves worshiped, so paradise in the Halls of Alagos Hîr would be his, and probably very soon.

  Ahead of him was the entrance to the Palace of Justice, as he approached the guard post he threw off his cloak and paused for dramatic effect, the half dozen guards looked shocked to see the pale bluish white skin and ice white long hair of a Frost Elf, and as they started to react, Agnarr dashed between them into the courtyard running for the main doors. In seconds they were on him and he was taken hard to the granite floor and bound hand and foot, bruised but alive…

  Laying under the pile of guards, Agnarr started laughing, “Damn, by Alagos Hîr flaming beard, Paras was right… I’m not dead, well not yet!”

  An hour later he was sitting alone in a stone cell in the prison wing of the Palace of Justice, they had left him with naked after thoroughly searching him, but not thoroughly enough… It was almost time, the guard passed the cell every ten minutes and would do so again in a few seconds. Agnarr sat waiting enjoying both the cold of the cell as well as the anticipation of what was coming. The guard passed checking in on him, slightly he rose and walked to the corner where the waist bucket was nelt. And retrieved from his body cavity that the stupid sun elves had not checked, a magical spell crystal. Swiftly he placed it into the center of the cell on the floor and stood back. He concentrated and sent a weak thread of Air Magic into the crystal, he was not strong in ‘tricks’ but strong enough to activate the spell.

  A bluish white fog seem to appear and swirl around the crystal, slowly a faint at first but soon the cell was thick with the rapidly expanding spell. The Palace of Justice was well protected from magical intrusion from the outside, but a gate opened from the inside...

  The fog suddenly disappeared and in its place hovering above the crystal was a blue oval portal about four feet high, out popped Shen Ramzes with her wicked heavy simitar ready to kill, she flattened herself against the wall so not to be seen from the door, and right after her Paras Koefu ducked thru the portal. Both of them were dressed in smokey black leathers that seemed to blend in with their skin to create an effective shadowy comolouge. She tossed Agnarr his sword and a bag of supplies. From her back she shrugged off a cask of oil mixed with sulfur and placed it next to the wall. She jumped back thru the portal to get more of the casks.

  Quickly Agnarr had the bag open and was donning dark clothing and a set of boots, he used the small hand mirror to apply face makeup to make his skin match the tan of a northern wild elf and a dark wig.

  Paras was standing near the far wall concentrating, the blink spell was easy for her to cast, the hard part when casting indoors was not winding up inside a wall..., that took precise knowledge of the destination's location, something she had from their ‘conspirator,’ she just needed to orientate her current location with the destination. She felt Shen and Agnarr’s eyes on her back, but ignored them, they knew not to bother her now. “Ok, got it…”

  Paras started to weave a ‘blink gate’ and suddenly with a pop sound, she was gone.

  And staggered slightly as she found herself standing in a grand office, marble and fine dark wood everywhere, a massive window overlooking the city, a desk fit for an Emperor, or at least the Lord High Constable… She was alone, but probably not for long, alarm bells would be ringing soon. She rushed over to the desk, opened the top right drawer and there on top of some files was the collar device, right where they had been told it would be.... Paras put it into a pouch or her waist and retreated to the precise place on the fine rug she landed on moments ago. Only this time facing the way she had come from, a moment to visualize the cell, the distance and negative depth from the third floor office, and again her hands began moving in concentric circles and wisps of blue magical light blended into a spell…

  “Vissss pop!” And Paras was standing in the dark stone cell, she noticed in terror, many inches closer to the wall than were she had left from, her heart stopped for a second, “damn that was close, to close” she thought!

  As she appeared, Shen Ramzes finished to last of picking the lock on the cell. The soft steps of the prison guard could be heard approaching, and as his head appeared, Shen lunged through the bars in the oak door with a wicked dagger, she left it in his throat and smacked him in the face with the cell door. Quickly she was thru the door ended the last struggles of the doomed guard, and wiped her dagger clean on his uniform.

  Agnarr headed to the right checking cells, Paras had gone left, past where Shen was finishing off the guard. Agnarr gave a low whistle, gestured to a cell and then went on to the next cell and again confirmed the target. Shen had relieved the dead guard of his keys and silent hurried to Agnarr, in seconds she had Mordu Reese out and Agnarr led him back to his cell, Paras was waiting at the portal and sent him thru, just as Shen and Torman Verga rushed in, Agnarr closed and locked the cell door behind them, jamming a metal spike into the back frame to seal the door. Within seconds they had gone and the dark cell was empty, too late an alarm gong started to sound, indeed much too late as the fire gem Paras had left in the cell attop the casks of oil and sulfur, detonated obliterating most of the underground prison …

  ~

  Chapter 9

  Morning had fully awakened the city as Myst and Ious hurried through the streets full of people seemingly blissfully happy with the promise of the coming Holiday Season… The sky had turned clear blue and crisp was the air, the tang of wood fires sented the city.

  The Shrine of Edessa was not far from the Palace of Justice, from the outside it was certainly not as awe inspiring as the cities grand cathedrals, it was the inside that had visitors, even the most jaded, stop in stunned wonder.

  The Shrine was a long narrow oval, with thin stone spines that soared more than a hundred feet overhead to form a barrel vault oval dome, but by far most of what the visitor saw was the immenseness of delicate stained glass that covered most of the building between the stone ribs. Only magic could create or support such a work of art, a dazzling beauty that at first overwhelmed with light and color, then slowly, subtly the individual scenes that the glorious windows shone, would start to appear to the viewer. Myst could, and had done in the past, spend hours here appreciating the glory, but not today.

  Ious had donned a hooded cloak and hurried down the aisle toward the far end where the shine was, Myst slowly followed him. The Shrine celebrated the love and union of the Creator with his Consort, and at the far end a font of holy water reflected the colors and images depicted in the surrounding stained glass.

  Ious stood there, silently ‘contemplating’ the font. Myst a few yards away was seemingly engrossed in the narrative of a panel of stained glass… After a while Myst moved on to another section, then again to another, “Ious was probably standing there asleep by now,” he thought.

  A dark haired figure in the black and gold of a High Priestess of the Consort came thru a door hidden into the stonework near the font. She walked over to Ious and asked, “Is there something I can help you with my son? The font is beautiful but you seem lost in it’s depth.”

  Iuos turned to her and replied, “O môr henion…”

  Grand Duchess Chantelle Sundragon, the Emperor's younger sister, cocked her head to the side appraising Ious, “Of the child of night… Hum, that is not part of the Consort’s liturgy that I’m familiar with, nor is it anything of the Creator… it is something from the Fallen One I believe. Perhaps, you may be in need healing, maybe psychological healing?”

  Ious looked over to Myst who was approaching them, “Your Grace,” Myst interrupted, “Does that phrase mean anything to you?”

  The deep blue intelligent eyes turned to Myst, “I know you, Myst Sunstar.”

  “I’m honored that you remember me your Grace…, we are looking to meet someone here
who answers to that phrase. A high born lady, possibly with dark hair.”

  “It is not me that you are looking for, but no other here matches that description. It is also something,” she paused in thought, “not appropriate for a Shrine of Good. And yes Ser Myst I remember you well...”

  “Your Grace, this is my friend and colleague Ser Ious Taustara,” Myst introduced.

  Ser Ious bowed deeply and smiled charmingly at her, “Thank You your Grace, but no I do not need any healing today, even psychological healing, though not all would agree with me on this.”

  She looked at them both, she was frighteningly imposing Myst thought, and not simply because she was tall and beautiful, but the aristocratic stamp of the Imperial family was painfully notable in her carriage and demeanor. Unfortunately for the investigation, there was nothing in her past that would suggest to Myst that she would be interested in any plot, the church was her singular passion, the possibility of her collaborating with worshipers of the demon Gûr Rhien?

  “If it is intrigue within the Family, then I think you should go talk with my nephew Galen, his sister's are frequently up to trouble of one sort or another and he keeps them in check for the most part..., yet both of them are blonde, but then a wig or dyes are easy to come by. Tell his chamberlin that I sent you, that will get you into see him today.”

  “Thank You, your Grace,” the both replied and bowed as she swept past them back thru the hidden door.

  They had just left the Shrine when a Captain in the slate grey and blood red of the personal guard of the Lord High Constable hailed them, “My Lord Sunstar, the Lord High Constable bids tell you that the Palace of Justice prison was destroyed shortly after you left...,”

  Both Myst and Ious were visibly shocked, “I did not foresee that response,” Myst exclaimed.

  “Also my Lord, there has been a murder, one you should see…”