The Vitalis Chronicles: White Shores (11 page)

They were damned hard to stop however, Silvers reflected as he lay in wait. Nothing definitive had been created to stop the Shadow. Unlike the Magi, Shadow didn't rely on the Atmosphere for any form of strength. Their metaphysical form resided within the Atmosphere, but seemed relatively independent of it. Mobile devices simply called ‘shelters’ had been created to prevent them from making the jump. But they were rare and had fallen into disuse with the passing of time, and the captain didn't have any at his disposal.

Silvers' formidable patience would not waiver. He would stay here all day for a shot at the Shadow King if necessary. This Shade was responsible for single-handedly slaughtering thousands of human soldiers. If Silvers could walk into Elandir with that sword on his back he would win fame beyond anything he could hope to accomplish hunting Magi. If not, he would die trying.

He tensed. One of the motion sensors they planted down the path had detected something. A small light on his dark leather wristband signaled him silently. Something was coming. He motioned the alert and then pressed his back into the rock again.

Silence.

Clouds passed overhead slowly, blissfully enjoying a lazy spring afternoon without so much as a thought to the scene unfolding below. Perhaps the sensor had been tripped by something else, Silvers wondered. They weren't that reliable; wireless technology wasn't exactly foolproof yet, especially in small forms. It was just as likely that some large bug had landed on the sensor and taken a vigorous liking to it.

Silvers was about to signal his men to stand down when he heard something rattling up the path. It sounded like a small cart. His gloved fingers clenched the tightly woven hilt of his sword as he slowed his breathing.

When the Shade entered the ambush he would rush down to meet it, sword drawn, yelling with demonic fury. The hope was that the distraction would provide an opportunity for the Hunters to put a bullet or two in the creature, ideally crippling it and keeping it from easily jumping to its other state. If successful he would reach it in time to disarm and destroy its body before it could escape or kill any of his men.

Silvers could hear the cart rolling behind him, light, intent footsteps following it twenty or so feet below. He took one last breath as it entered the kill zone, then pushed up out of the grass and whipped around the boulders, screaming murder and violence as he rushed to greet his enemy. The captain stopped short, however, as the cart was not being pushed by the Shade but by the trader who had tipped him off.

“Mage alive!” The old man gripped his chest as he breathed a sigh of relief. “I thought ya'd forgotten whose side yous on there, son.”

“I thought you said he would pass this way today, old man!” Silvers came to a stuttered halt near the man as he tried to collect himself.

“Now now,” the trader reached into his wooden cart to right a jar that had fallen over. “No need to be angry, young Captain.”

“Stand down!” Silvers could sense his Hunters taking aim through the grass at the old man. “Stand down damn it!”

“Now who are you talking to, son?”

“Where is he?”

“You aren't going crazy are you, boy?”

“Damn it, old man, where is the Wanderer?”

“Son, I told you.” The old man put a hand on his hip as he leaned on his cart. “I meet him at the crossing ahead; my cart can't make it over those stones so he meets me just south of the creek. I imagine that your Wanderer is up in those hills watching you right now.”

Silvers cursed under his breath as he ran back up the hill to his gear. Grabbing a set of binoculars he knelt as he scanned the hills to the north. Nothing. If he was lucky, he could move his men into position at the creek before it was too late. Then he saw it.

The Shade was standing on a ridge just beyond the creek, black cloak whipping in the stiffening breeze. It turned slowly and walked away as Silvers watched through his binoculars. He cursed again, then quickly signaled to his men that the hunt was on. Instantly eight tall, masked figures leaped out of the grass and began running with him. The nine soldiers sprinted north, bounding over the creek and heading up the hill towards the Shade.

The squad fanned out naturally, wordlessly, broadening their sweep and increasing their line of sight in case the Shade had taken a course perpendicular to their own. It hadn't. The squad had only run a few hundred yards before they spotted the Shade. It was kneeling at another crossing with the creek as it wound its way up through the hills. They slowed, spreading out farther in an attempt to surround it. It seemed as though it hadn't even seen them. If it had there was certainly no sign to show it.

The Hunters crouched low, those to the south slowing significantly so the rest could close the trap. Captain Silvers stuck to the path with the southern troops. It didn't take long for his men to make it silently to their posts; they weren't called Khrone's Ghosts for nothing.

He waited a moment longer, unable to see around the bend in the path ahead. He figured there was no better approach than this. At least it would better keep him out of the line of fire. The silent signal came from above that everyone was in position. He responded with a quick, one-handed motion and then started walking up the path.

Silvers started to jog as he rounded the corner, then took off in a dead sprint as soon as the cloaked figure came into view. The Shade was just under one hundred yards away. It had started walking north again and was crossing a small, ancient looking stone bridge when Silvers' footsteps clamored into hearing.

The captain had absolutely no idea what to expect from this Shade, but he was committed now. The figure turned and waited. Hands hidden within the cloak and face obscured by the hood, the dark shadow it cast as the sun waned made it appear much taller than it was. Silvers raised his sword above his head and screamed.

Three shots rang out simultaneously, not nearly as many as Silvers had hoped for. Puffs of dust spat out in the stream bed and grasses around the Shade. It didn't flinch. Silvers was closing fast, only yards away. Another shot rang out. He could see a ripple in the creature's cloak near the crown of its head, a small explosion burst from the thick stone railing on the bridge. A hole was left smoking in the cloak where the bullet had passed, but the Shade appeared unharmed.

Silvers swung straight down at its head but the shade stepped to the side, turning as if to watch the captain fly by. This was not going well at all. Silvers put his heels down in an effort to stop and swung his blade around in a wild arc as if to ward off the Shade. It simply stepped back, allowing the tip of the blade to whistle by harmlessly.

Silvers held his sword up with both hands, breathing heavily and wondering what was going on. Why didn't it respond? The figure was backing away from him slowly; its hands remained hidden from view as it attempted to make its exit. Khrone's Ghosts were closing; escape wouldn't be quite so simple in a moment. Guns weren't going to be any use here, their initial chance of catching the Shade off guard was lost. Their only hope rested on overwhelming it in a fight and surviving long enough to land a blow.

This was exactly what Silvers had feared it would come to. He was about to lose half of his men, if any of them survived.

The captain lunged forward again, bringing his sword down on the creature's neck but missing as it stepped back again. Silvers pulled back up on his sword, bringing it to bear on the creature's left flank and missing again as it twisted to the side. He heard a yell as one of the Hunters reached them, throwing himself into the fray.

There was a flash of light as the sun reflected on the Hunter's blade and was met with an even longer, curved sword extended from a black-gloved hand. There was a pause as the Shade held its opponent's blade at bay; its hidden gaze never left Silvers.

The creature's right hand made its appearance as it slowly pulled its hood back. Sunlight glistened gently off long silver hair that framed the Shadow King's stern face. His gray eyes were humorless, his mouth a straight slit as he stared hard into the captain's eyes. The message was clear: it didn't have to happen this way.

Silvers wasn't about to turn to diplomacy; the rest of his men were closing in. He swung hard at the creature's chest, the blade passing straight through as the section of torso seemed to waver and disappear momentarily. The other Hunters began to join the fight as well as they could, while the Shadow King's sword rang out against their attacks.

Their blows seemed to miss their mark no matter how accurate they were, but the Shade remained in the fight. Suddenly it went on the offensive. Kneeling under a wide blow, it brought its long blade curving upwards across the chest and into the chin of one of the hunters. There was an explosion of blood before the Shade whipped around and slashed through the knees of the man behind him.

Other soldiers took their place as the Shade rolled out of the quarrel, spinning as it stood and slashing clean through the right arm of the nearest Hunter. The man screamed as he was knocked to the ground, his captain leaping overhead towards the Shadow King. Silvers gave out a yell as he brought his sword down across the Shade's chest and grunted at the impact of the creature's block. He swung his sword around his head as he lined up another shot at the Shade's left arm but was greeted with a blow from the hilt of its sword to the chin.

Lights exploded in Silvers' head as his feet kicked out from under him, his men rushing past to engage the Shade. The clash rung like a hammer pounding an anvil, interrupted only by the sounds of tearing flesh and screaming men.

Silvers' sight returned slowly, his vision still clouded by tears as the electric pain in his jaw started to subside. Two of his men continued to fight. He picked himself up and rushed at the Shade. Leveling his sword at its midsection he darted forward screaming. The Shade sliced through the throat of a Hunter with the flick of a wrist and brought its sword around to block the others attack before it realized Silvers was bearing down on it. He had caught the creature off guard; it was exactly the opportunity he needed.

The Shade managed to dematerialize where Silvers' blade attempted to penetrate, but instead of pulling back Silvers lowered his shoulder and knocked the creature over the side of the bridge. The two figures were entangled for a moment as they were enveloped by the stream.

Silvers jumped to his feet as quickly as he could, twisting his blade towards his enemy as he stood and feeling it bite. He backed away slowly, moving upstream. The Shade rose, drenched cloak cascading over its shoulders as water rolled off the edges. The sun glared over the distant peaks as the small bridge stood solemnly behind.

The Shade stared hard at Silvers and unclasped its cloak. The creature dropped the cloth into the water flowing past its knees where it slowly floated away and under the bridge. White flesh was exposed in a tear through the thick leather that covered the creature's right shoulder. Dark, almost black blood oozed out of a gash in the center. The Shade looked at its shoulder, placing a finger on the gash. The wounded area wavered for a moment, as if the shoulder was merely a mirage, then returned whole. Even the tear in the leather was gone.

It smiled as it made eye contact with Silvers, and advanced through the water towards him.

Silvers breathed heavily, his wet, black hair matted against his face. Bringing his sword in front of him he held on with both hands as the world grew quiet around him. Fear drove his heart, his heart drove adrenaline, and all he could see was his opponent.

Then, flying off the bridge came the one remaining Hunter. Screaming like a cat thrown from a high story window the soldier's blade clashed with that of the Shadow King as it whipped around to defend itself. The weight of its assailant flung the Shade backwards. Silvers threw his whole body forward, thrusting his sword towards the back of its defenseless head.

It struck. The blade slid between the spine and the base of the creature's skull, cracking through bone and cartilage until it erupted out from between the Shade's eyes. Silvers held on tightly as it slid to the ground lifeless. It lay there, its body half in the stream as the rest was held out by its head, skewered on Silvers' sword.

The captain stared at his fallen foe, disbelieving his luck as the tip of his sword rested on a rock under the water. The moaning of his wounded men finally reached his ears, causing him to look around. He wondered if even half of them would live.

Silvers ordered the Hunter in the stream to check on his comrades. Turning back to his enemy, the captain rolled it over and placed a boot on its back. He heaved on his sword. It came free, but with it came a dark cloud that poured out ominously and flew off like a raven from captivity. Taken aback by the violence of the thing Silvers stumbled backwards and fell, landing on the muddy shore of the stream. He stared up off into the clouds as the thing slowly came back around a cloud, paused, and then dove straight for him. Nothing like this had ever happened at the death of a Shade.

He got up and turned to run, but slipped as his boot failed to find purchase on the bank. He caught himself with his hands, letting his sword fall to the side.

Troy Silvers tried to run again but the thing was upon him before he took three steps. The captain heard himself scream as the world turned to shadow and fog.

T
HE RUBBLE AROUND
the Cave sat smoldering as the sun rose the next morning. Birds could be heard chirping in the forest beyond, but few animals dared come close to the clearing where so much death had been dealt the night before. A tall man dressed head to toe in black leather armor stood in the east wing of what used to be the Witch's Cave. His long silver hair flowed down his back over a cape that rippled gently in the wind.

The boy that lay before him slept soundly in the only clear patch of floor left. He looked the same as he had in Charsi's clutches, but his presence felt different. Probably the result of whatever torture she had poured into him. Either way it was a surprise that he had survived at all.