03- The Apostles of Doom Read online

  Lord Tommus tilted his head for a second and then grinned, or Tal Gor hoped it was grin. It was a rather different look on his lord’s face. He had to grip his saddle tightly as Schwarzenfürze lurched, grappling with her prey. It was hard to see what was happening on the other side of the D’Warg, who was vertical in the air and clawing away at her prey.

  Great idea! Here, this is a link to the primary Fire portal in the Abyss, Lord Tommus said.

  Tal Gor shook his head. He knew this vision was all in his head, but it was still bizarre how Lord Tommus was suddenly handing him what appeared to be a flaming thread that led off… somewhere.

  Tal Gor reached out with a spirit hand and took hold of the portal. He shuddered as he felt the raging energy of Fire. He was suddenly engulfed in flame, lighting, light, energy.

  Pull back a bit, Lord Tommus instructed. Another lurch as Schwarzenfürze shifted, her hind claws scrambling to disembowel the hippogriff, helping bring him back to this reality.

  Tal Gor pulled back. Fire was too overwhelming, too powerful. He had heard warnings about the raw elements; now he understood them.

  So, when a fireball, for example, comes towards you, simply reach out with your mind and with this portal link, Lord Tommus told him. Focus on the Fire link and the fireball becoming one. If you must, fling the link to Fire at the fireball and allow them to connect. The fireball will follow the link, I guarantee it.

  A loud belch from Schwarzenfürze caused both Tal Gor and Lord Tommus to stare at the D’Warg, who was pushing away the remains of the hippogriff’s corpse, along with that of its rider. They watched as the two shredded corpses fell through the air towards the distant ground.

  Very impressive, Schwarzenfürze! Tom said to her from his spirit form. To Tal Gor’s utter surprise, the D’Warg turned to stare directly at Lord Tommus and gave him a short bark. How the D’Warg could see a spirit form—something that should only exist in his mind—was more than a little puzzling.

  Tal Gor shook his head and looked around. They were once more slightly separated from the rest of the battle. He directed Schwarzenfürze to head towards the orcs, who were regrouping. At this point there were only about twenty alvar and hippogriff pairs left.

  As he came abreast of the other orcs, Lord Tommus, who was still there in his mind, spoke up. It looks like your concerns were well-founded!

  Tal Gor looked towards his vision of Lord Tommus, who was pointing to the center of the remaining alvar. Approximately half of them were encircling an older, taller, unarmored alfar, who was gesturing and waving a staff around. Suddenly another fireball burst forth from the wizard’s staff, this one heading directly towards the orcs!

  Now! Do what I told you; focus it through the summoning stone. That should give you more control, Lord Tommus instructed.

  “Wyvern turds!” Elgrid Rage Wracker shouted, seeing the fireball coming towards them.

  “We are toast! Scramble!” Bor Tal yelled.

  Tal Gor focused on the link to the portal, tracing it through the summoning stone, which was also what he had used to connect to Lord Tommus, so it was not particularly difficult. Imagining his staff as a slingshot, he spun it in a circle around his head with the thread-like link attached, imagining it wind up. Using his Eagle Sight, he focused on the fireball, imagining it was really a rabbit. He began speaking a chant he knew for summoning fire and then released the thread-like link, imagining it as a tethered arrow.

  The link connected with the fireball, and suddenly it was coming straight at him!

  Concentrate on imagining it being sucked into the portal, returning it to its birthplace! Elongating, shrinking in size to fit through your stone! Lord Tommus instructed.

  The fireball began to stretch along the link, now arcing more like a bolt towards Tal Gor’s raised staff.

  Lord Tommus grinned at him and instructed, Imagine you have a net on your staff and you are going to catch the fireball in the net. I don’t want you to let it go to the portal. I want you to catch it in your staff. If you need to, let the staff reel to compensate for momentum. The Lord of Doom said this urgently but confidently, as if had trained hundreds of shamans to do this before. Which, Tal Gor reflected, he probably had.

  The fireball or bolt came roaring in; the heat was incredible! It was smaller in size, but seemed all the more intense, a blue-hot heat. It struck his stone, his magic net. Tal Gor had to draw mana from the mana pool to contain the fire. He changed his chanting to one for controlling fire, guiding it. It was a chant he’d never had much luck with before, but now was the time to try.

  The staff was gyrating with the momentum of the fireball, now about eight inches in diameter, as it swirled, trapped around the summoning stone. He had to hold the staff with both hands for fear it would be ripped from his hands.

  What do I do now? Tal Gor asked Lord Tommus in near panic.

  The same thing you did to launch the thread, but this time I want you to pitch it back to the wizard, and really toss it! Channel the fire from the elemental portal to add to the flame; make it bigger, stronger. Feed the fire from the portal, Lord Tommus said.

  I’m not sure how! Tal Gor cried out mentally. He was starting to panic.

  Allow me. This is something I learned with Vaselle. Suddenly Tal Gor felt an immense presence, reassuring and confident, rock-solid, ancient and powerful, engulfing him, filling him. He felt confidence flood him as he swung the staff with one hand in a great arc, willing the Fire from the elemental portal to stream through his stone and into the fireball, now appearing as a large circle of fire, his staff, a spoke of a wheel, and from the spoke more and more Fire came to feed the burning ring of fire!

  It grew higher, stronger, now a giant ring above his head, traced by the motion of his staff. His Eagle Sight focused on the wizard, who was staring at him in shock and, perhaps, awe. As their eyes met over the considerable distance, the wizard suddenly turned pale and began making all sorts of gestures and mouthing words.

  Tal Gor felt his mouth twist into a smile of its own accord. He realized he was practically screaming his fire control chant at the top of his lungs. With a last surge, he swung the staff towards the wizard and released the Fire. The ring of fire went spinning through the air like a discus of flame, ten feet and then twenty in diameter. The air between him and the alfar surrounding the wizard shimmered, a shield to deflect the wheel of flames. It broke upon the shimmering air into lashes of flame that rained down upon the alvar, scorching and burning them and their mounts! Hippogriffs with flaming wings began quick spiral descents to land, their riders desperately trying to pat out the flames on both themselves and their mounts.

  The wizard, slightly scorched but mostly intact, shook his head, staring at Tal Gor. He started mouthing another spell and making wide gestures. Tal Gor was suddenly frightened that the wizard was about to launch some new, non-fire based spell. He glanced to his right at sudden movement.

  Lord Tommus, who was now once more beside him, no longer inside him, grinned. You won!

  But he’s casting another spell! What do I do? Tal Gor asked, starting to once more panic.

  I have seen this spell. Wizards tend to use it a lot around me, Tom chortled.

  Suddenly there was a brilliant flash of purple light, spikes of light radiating outward in the cardinal directions from where the wizard had been. When the light vanished, the wizard and his hippogriff were both gone.

  Tal Gor frowned. What happened?

  Teleport. He who flees and runs away, lives to flee another day! Lord Tommus laughed.

  What a horrible, cowardly idea! Tal Gor said, shocked. Fleeing in such a selfish manner, leaving wounded comrades behind to deal with the victors, unaided? The cowardice was mind-boggling! No wonder the alvar were so hated.

  Nysegard, Krallnomton Henge: Moments Later

  “Master?” Tamarin asked, concerned.

  “He is somewhere else, with one of the shamans,” Vaselle said, also concerned, but not as much as Tamarin.

  T
om heard them; he shook his head as if suddenly waking from an incredibly intense daydream. He blinked a few times, trying to get his bearings, and held up his hand to calm his two friends so he could collect himself. He felt dizzy. He had not done anything like that in a very long time. When was the last time? Torvolg Myleanr on Romdan? He enjoyed being the teacher, showing his warlocks and shamans how to wield the power he provided them. Particularly when they were young and still so full of wonder.

  Tom blinked again, coming more fully—awake, if that was the word. What had happened? What were those weird thoughts? He’d been speaking to Tal Gor, lost the signal and followed his link back to discover the shaman’s party under attack by alvar. His shaman had wanted to learn how to defend himself and his people with Fire. A key part of any shaman’s or warlock’s training; something he had done so many times. Teaching the young was one of the best perks of his mission.

  Tom shook his head again, more widely this time. Tamarin and Vaselle stepped back to avoid getting gored by his horns.

  He had to clear his thoughts. No, not my thoughts, HIS thoughts! Something in that situation had triggered old memories—no, foreign memories! It was so very odd. He’d been himself; he’d had memories of possessing Vaselle and sought to use the same technique with Tal Gor. Showing, teaching his student, much like teaching someone to golf by wrapping one’s arms around them and holding the club with them. Only spiritually, like a ghost doing pottery with his true love. But teaching his student things that Tom himself only barely understood—how could that be possible?

  Tom’s stomach ached with anxiety. What was going on? These stupid thoughts, feelings, memories were now attacking him during the day, when he was awake. Or sort of awake. From what he’d learned from the shamans, the sort of travel where he was with someone in their mind, invisible to others, that was a variant of dream walking. That’s what he had been doing!

  He had sort of assumed that it was just a term and not literally related to dreams; but now he was not so sure. If dream walking was related to dreaming, then it would make sense that he’d be susceptible to these false dream memories that had been plaguing him.

  That had to be it. There could be no other possibility. Realizing this made him feel better. He’d fallen into a dreaming state, so whatever was haunting his dreams was able to reach him there. But what was it that was haunting him? He still did not know. Had Orcus somehow gone all Freddy Krueger? Looking to haunt the dreams of any teenager that moved onto Doom Street? Given that he had been unable to detect any leftover animus in the Rod, or in Doom itself, that made about as much sense as anything. The only other possibility, as he’d considered before, was Tartarus. He had mental links to that place and its experimental AII.

  That made him sit up straighter. Could that be it? He was keyed to Tartarus the same way Orcus had been; what if Orcus had used the AII and left memories in it, somehow? Could the AII interface be trying to return those memories to what it thought of as their owner? That would make sense. Hell, he’d been told it was experimental! Experimental computer systems were always doing crazy shit like that. Yes—that had to be it. He needed to explore that path.

  Feeling relieved, he glanced up to see Tamarin and Vaselle staring at him in grave concern. He grinned, feeling much better. Now he just needed to come up with an excuse for his very odd behavior.

  Astlan, Orcan Plains: Moments Later

  As Lord Tommus returned to Vaselle and Tamarin, Tal Gor slumped over his saddle, exhausted and drained worse than anything he could recall. He’d had to use almost all of his mana reserves, plus that within his mana pool, to deflect and redirect the fireball.

  As a loud roaring noise drew his attention from his own thoughts. What was that noise? He looked up to find himself surrounded by his tribe, along with the D’Orcs. They were screaming, shouting, yelling and laughing.

  “Tal Gor! You did it! You saved our butts and took out nearly a dozen alvar and their mounts in one fell blast! Unbelievable! Incredible!” Elgrid shouted.

  “I never even imagined you had that sort of skill, lad!” Lob shouted with joy. “Horrgus could never have done that at his peak and sober!”

  “You defeated and forced an alvaran wizard to flee like the slime-encrusted tilapean tape worms they all are!” Zargvarst said with a wide grin.

  Tal Gor grinned and nodded his head happily. He was just so tired he could barely speak. “I owe it to the support of Lord Tommus. He showed me how to do it.”

  Bor Tal and Soo An looked rather puzzled, as did the other orcs. Clearly they had not seen anything.

  Zargvost nodded. “So, you got a little one-on-one time with Tommus. Orcus used to do the same with his shamans and warlocks. He would train them personally; it was what made them the most feared mana wielders in the multiverse.”

  “Indeed,” Nagh Felwraith agreed.

  Bor Tal looked around, once more verifying that there were no more alvar in the air. He then looked down towards the ground far below. “What should we do with any still alive down there?”

  Zargvarst grinned. “With my D’Orc sight, I noticed a band of tents to the north of us. We will inform them of the presence of these interlopers. It is important that the tribes know of this incursion, and if they can capture some, they can be questioned; if not, the corpses will provide proof of them breaking the armistice.”

  Lob Smasher nodded. “Definitely. I think the corpses will be enough; it’s not like we can trust anything they might say under questioning.”

  “True, but questioning can be a lot of fun,” Elgrid chortled.

  Kirak spoke up. “You said they broke an armistice?”

  Lob nodded. “They came onto our lands and attacked an authorized delegation of the tribes. Remember all those tokens of safe passage we got?”

  “Yes,” Kirak said, nodding. “Exactly my point. I have lived my entire life at Mount Doom, so am not completely familiar with how things work on the Planes of Orc, but from the legends that I’ve been told, breaking an armistice in such a manner can mean only one thing…” he paused.

  Lob, Elgrid, Zargvarst and Nagh all laughed and nodded. “Indeed. It means war!” Lob said, grinning from ear to ear. Everyone started slapping each other on the back in excitement. Today had been a very good day indeed.

  The Inferno: Late Fourth Period

  “We are now within five leagues of the emanation,” XO Stevensword reported to the others on the bridge.

  “Captain,” Chief Sorcery Officer Halferth interjected.

  “Yes?” the captain replied.

  “Given our last encounter, I recommend we engage all cloaking shields,” the CSO suggested.

  Captain Cranshall nodded. “Excellent point. Proceed. Bring our defensive shields up to half power as well.”

  “What are these cloaking shields?” Barabus asked.

  Halferth looked over to him and replied, “Even as we have magical defenses, shields, against damage, we also have sorcerous shields that hide us from detection, that make us invisible to most detection mechanisms.”

  Gadius made a snorting sound behind him. Barabus could only agree with the knight.

  “If we had such cloaking shields before, then why did we not deploy them?” Barabus asked wearily.

  “Well, yes... ahem.” Halferth glanced at the captain.

  The captain explained, “To be honest, we did not think a band of outlaw demons would possess ranged weapons in a volcano. We assumed that if they were going to attack us, we would have seen their forces leave the volcano and so could engage defensive mechanisms.”

  “And, as well, I might add,” Halferth interrupted, “while these shields block most forms of detection of us, they also block our ability to scry outwardly. If we’d had them all up, your priests would not have been able to detect much of anything. In this case, we have already pinpointed the location.”

  “So we are completely invisible?” Sir Lady Sera asked.

  “Mostly,” Halferth admitted.

  �
�Mostly?” Gadius asked.

  “We are not perfectly invisible, or we could not see where we are going. We have left ourselves slightly open to visible light. Observers will see a ripple of air, at most,” Halferth said.

  Gaius, to Barabus’ right, nodded. “As with various cloaks of invisibility.”

  “Exactly. Same principle. If we do not move, or move slowly, it is very unlikely anyone will notice,” Halferth agreed.

  “So we are going in slowly, I take it? Not the usual breakneck speed?” Gaius asked.

  “Indeed. We are currently at ten leagues per hour,” XO Stevensword replied. “About one-sixth of our optimal cruising speed. Given the current state of the drives, about one-third of what our engineers report as our current operational cruising speed.”

  “So we have about half an hour to kill,” Gadius stated.

  “So we are arriving at nowhere?” Sir Samwell asked, entering the bridge. Heron had sent a crew member to notify the knight. His long presence in the Abyss should allow him to provide them useful insight.

  XO Stevensword replied, “Indeed. As we come around this next pillar, we should be able to see it. Our visual range is quite limited due to our cloaking shields.”

  “Hmm. In that case, the nothing that is there should not see us.” Sir Samwell chuckled, looking down at the map table showing their position.

  “Indeed,” Heron replied, nodding.

  “Well, there is definitely something there,” CSO Halferth said, looking up from a scrying plate on his console. “I can detect quite a bit of mana and animus at the location, despite the fact that our own shields are obscuring my measurements.”

  “How large?” Chancellor Alighieri asked.