The Black Shriving (Chronicles of the Black Gate Book 2) Read online

  Contents

  The Black Shriving

  Map of the Ascendant Empire

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Book 3

  Copyright

  The Black Shriving

  Book 2 of the

  CHRONICLES OF THE BLACK GATE

  By Phil Tucker

  © 2016 Phil Tucker

  Cover art by Andreas Zafeiratos

  All characters and events in this book, other than those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious, and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  View the full-sized map here.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Audsley stepped through the Lunar Portal and stumbled with a gasp into darkness. On his shoulder, Aedelbert hissed in alarm, rearing up and flaring his wings as Audsley tripped and fell, cracking down onto both knees and sending old bones skittering away from him across a smooth black floor. Heart pounding, he fought the urge to scream. The room into which he'd emerged was vast, with ebon pillars broader than the biggest trees rising up to disappear into the gloom high overhead. A faint mist hovered a few feet over the ground, obscuring much, though from where he knelt Audsley could make out the hunched forms of what looked like countless bodies spreading away from him into the distance.

  "Where are we?" he breathed, and then yelped as Tiron strode through the Portal right behind him, sword in fist. Scurrying aside, he placed his back to the pillar in which their Portal was embedded, and then started and turned to gaze up the pillar's length. It was composed of Portals, its surface covered in dead archways that spiraled around the column like some ghastly impersonation of a water twister. Audsley's mind spun. There had to be at least fifty, perhaps a hundred Lunar Portals embedded in this sole pillar. He turned, wide-eyed, heart pounding, to the vastness of the room. Ten, maybe fifteen other cyclopean pillars stood around him. A thousand Gates?

  "Audsley?" Tiron's voice was a harsh grate. "Where are we?"

  The three guards stepped in after Tiron, shuffling their feet as they came through, eyes wide, swords gripped in both hands. They clustered by the Portal, which flickered once and then went dead moments after the final man had stepped through.

  We're trapped here, thought Audsley, climbing to his feet. That Portal won't open for a month. "I don't know, exactly," he said, ignoring Tiron's wild glare. "I don't - I've never heard of anything like this. Look. Countless Portals." He moved to study the one they'd stepped through. "And completely unlike any design I've seen. These runes up top..." He peered up at the Portal's apex, where three sigils were deeply inscribed into the black stone. "What language is this?"

  "Don't bunch up," Tiron said to the three guards. "Give yourselves room to swing."

  The guards reluctantly stepped out to form a loose triangle around Audsley and Tiron, casting nervous glances around the gloom.

  "Bodies, ser," said Meffrid. He was a handsome, square-shouldered young man with a thick shock of sandy blond hair. Audsley recalled him as being one of the more pious guards at Kyferin Castle, first to arrive to service and the last to leave. Meffrid knelt and poked at the shape that lay at his feet, barely visible through the ground mist. "Old. Little more than bones."

  "Yes," said Audsley. "That makes sense. The upper torso I found in Mythgræfen Hold's basement was near desiccated." He toed the stiff cloth and bones that he'd kicked apart upon stepping through. "This must be the rest of him. And those... his companions."

  "Or enemies," said Tiron. He was frowning at the mist, hand pressed to his side. He'd been wounded, remembered Audsley. How badly? "Though I can't get a sense of the fight from here. Hold on." Tiron limped forward, pausing to stare at the hunched shapes, casting around as he sought to read the battlefield as if it were a book. And perhaps to him it was.

  "I've never seen nothing like it," whispered Temyl, lowering his blade and gaping at the sheer size of the chamber. Wiry and unkempt, with greasy brown hair slicked back into a short pony tail, he made Audsley think of a plaintive weasel. "It doesn't end. You could fit all of Kyferin Castle in here, you could."

  "Unlikely," said Audsley, trying to sound scornful and not quite pulling it off. "The darkness and mist is playing with your mind. Let us remain cool and collected!"

  How would Ser Wyland handle this moment? Audsley didn't know. The silence weighed upon his shoulders like a great leaden blanket. The air tasted damp and had a mineral tang.

  Aedelbert pressed close to the side of his head, haunches bunched, claws sunk deep into the fabric of his shoulder pad.

  Tiron sank into a crouch, staring at a large corpse. "Kragh," he said. "And not the only one. There's a good number of them here."

  "Kragh?" Bogusch, the third guard, stood a little straighter. "They've always fought on the side of the Ascendant, haven't they? That's good, right?"

  "Who knows," said Tiron, limping back. "Whomever they fought made this room their last stand."

  "What do you reckon, ser?" Meffrid rubbed at his jaw. "Couple of hundred bodies here?"

  Tiron nodded. "Could be. Audsley, we should move. We'll not learn much huddling at the base of this pillar."

  "Yes, quite," said Audsley, stepping away. Where had he seen runes similar to those inscribed over the Portal? He tore a small strip of fabric from his sleeve and rose to his toes to wedge it into the sharp recess of a rune. "There. Now we should be able to find it again. Let's proceed." Tiron was gazing expectantly at him. "Oh! A direction! Any should suffice." He cast around. "There seem to be fewer pillars to our left. That might indicate a wall?"

  Tiron nodded. "Meffrid, Bogusch, at the back. Temyl, up front with me. Audsley, stay in the center. Let's go."

  The group formed up and moved away from their pillar. The mist swallowed the sounds of their footsteps and swirled around their knees, its pallor made ghoulish by the bodies that were barely visible through it. Everything was black: the floors, the pillars, all made of a smooth black stone that gleamed as if slick. Obsidian, perhaps?

  Nobody spoke. Tiron moved forward slowly, sword moving from side to side as if he expected to be rushed by enemies at a moment's notice. It was almost too easy to imagine: the pregnant silence suddenly split by a harrowing scream, the blur of moving shapes, claws probably stretched out to seize at their throats -

  Audsley grimaced and fought the urge to spin around and look behind them. "It's all right, Aedelbert," he whispered, reaching up to caress his firecat's head. "Just a little mist and several hundred corpses in a huge and terrifying room. Nothing to be worried about."

  "Will you look at that," said Tiron, stopping and rising from his combat stanc
e.

  Audsley followed his gaze to a nearby pillar and saw that a huge furrow had been torn through its side, destroying a dozen Gates in the process and revealing that each pillar was solid to the core.

  "What could have torn through rock like that?" Tiron mused.

  "Nothing natural," said Temyl, forming the sign of the Ascendant's triangle awkwardly with both hands while still holding his blade. "Nothing natural."

  Audsley blinked and wrinkled his nose as he stared up at the fearsome gouge. "The rock looks almost melted at the edges." Seized by curiosity, he hurried to the base of the pillar and knelt to grope blindly across the floor. "Here." His hands closed over a large hunk of smooth rock, fingers detecting ripples across its surface. He tried to pull it free and quickly gave up. "It's adhering to the floor." Audsley sat back on his heels and gazed up again at the furrow. "Melted and then cooled, I'd hazard. Whatever carved that gash in the pillar must have done so with a heat strong enough to melt volcanic rock."

  "That's not good, is it?" Temyl formed the triangle again.

  "It happened hundreds of years ago," snapped Tiron. "It's neither good nor bad. It's history."

  "Perhaps," said Audsley, rising to his feet. He cast around. "Are the bodies here all from one side?"

  "No," said Meffrid. "Two sides seem to be present. One lot's wearing black, the other white."

  "No, there are dead dressed in white on both sides," said Tiron. "But those in black seemed to have been solely on the defense."

  "Interesting," said Audsley. He rose to his feet and dusted off his knees. "Let's proceed. I need more information."

  The group set off again, moving slowly, warily, though they heard not a sound they hadn't generated. After five more minutes of creeping along, they fetched up against a wall of the same black rock, rising up as smoothly as a castle's curtain wall into the darkness that hid the ceiling. Without a word they turned and followed the wall, and over the course of the next half hour performed a complete circuit of the giant room, which proved to be hexagonal in shape. Nobody spoke, yet Audsley could hear the low-level panic growing in Temyl, whose breath came in ever shorter hitches.

  "All right," said Tiron at last. He sheathed his sword and rubbed his face wearily. "We've walked around this place for long enough. Let's camp here for now as we regroup and assess. Meffrid, you're on watch. Keep that sword handy. The rest of you, at ease."

  Audsley placed his back against the smooth wall and slid down slowly to sit. Aedelbert leaped down from his shoulder and into his lap, where he curled up into a ball, shaking out his feathered wings in irritated huffs and pushing his head into Audsley's hand, who obliged with gentle scritches.

  "First things first," said Tiron. "Everyone place your water skins and food in the center. Don't even think about holding anything back."

  Audsley unhitched his small leather water skin and sloshed it by his ear. Half full. He dropped it next to Tiron's, and the other three guards did the same. It made for a dismal pile. The consequence of leaping unprepared through a Lunar Portal.

  "Well, this is a cock-eyed expedition," growled Tiron as he picked up first one skin, then the next. "No food to speak of? Great." He tossed the last skin down and leaned back. "Enough water for perhaps a day if we ration ourselves. Which makes finding more our first priority. We won't last more than three days after that if we don't."

  Bogusch stared at the water skins with his arms wrapped around his shins, his melancholy face growing even longer. "There's mist. Must be water."

  "What about doors?" Temyl looked from Tiron to Audsley. "How come there are no doors here? What kind of place is this?"

  "Well," said Audsley, moving his fingers down to tickle under Aedelbert's throat. The firecat raised his chin obligingly. "I have some theories, but they are of course tentative at best. Let us begin with the pillars. You've noticed that they're covered in Portals, yes?"

  Temyl shot a look at the closest one, which loomed up out of the mist just ahead of them. "Are you suggesting we go through the first Portal that opens up, Magister? Get out of here?"

  "No," said Audsley. "I'm not. At least, not yet. What I was indicating was the lack of a ramp or ladder to reach the higher Portals. What does that imply to you?"

  The four other men frowned at the pillars. Audsley fought the urge to shake his head. Had they not asked themselves that most basic of questions? But he shouldn't fault them. They were here to wield sharp pieces of metal. He was here to wield his mind.

  Meffrid opened his mouth, hesitated, and then asked quietly, "They, ah, could fly?"

  "Precisely," said Audsley, beaming at the young man. "Anybody who could construct such marvelous pillars would possess a wonderful power far beyond anything we can imagine, and would probably eschew the need to go walking across this room and up to their desired Portal like we're doing. No, I daresay the lack of ramps and stairs indicates that they would simply fly right to their desired entrance and pass through."

  "And that helps us how?" Tiron leaned back against the wall with a wince. His wound, Audsley could tell, was worse than he was letting on.

  "Well, if our erstwhile hosts made a habit of flying, then we can conjecture that the doors - or entrances, to be exact - wouldn't be flush against the floor. Thus I would imagine that the entrances to the chamber, if there are any, would be located higher up these walls."

  "If there are any?" Bogusch sighed and settled his chin on his knees. "That sounds promising."

  "Why wouldn't there be any?" Temyl's voice grew even more strained.

  "We're in a room filled with hundreds of Portals," said Tiron, closing his eyes. "Maybe it's just an isolated chamber. A nexus for travel. People come, people leave. They don't stay."

  "Precisely," said Audsley. "Which would make a wondrous sense but for one thing. The bodies. You said they lie as if they died taking a last stand. But why, when they had these Portals at their very backs?" Audsley tapped his chin. "Fascinating, is it not? A mystery! For whoever made the attack didn't clear away the bodies. Did they not wish to use the Portals? Was their objective then simply to kill those who did? I would guess - but only if forced, mind you - that there are mundane entrances to this room. That this chamber isn't the entirety of what there is to see."

  Meffrid was gazing about the dim room, searching its recesses with a fierce stare. "So, how do we find these doors, then? And even if we do find them, how do we get up to them?"

  "'Cause last I checked, I don't fly," said Temyl, and then he caught himself. "Magister."

  "One step at a time," said Tiron, and then coughed wetly into his fist. "Doors first. Audsley?"

  "We have with us a secret weapon." Audsley smiled. "Though one I am loath to deploy without every caution. Erudite, sophisticated, he is at once an excellent conversationalist for those with the ear to hear, and a canny hunter. I present you Master Aedelbert."

  "Your firecat?" Bogusch shifted his weight and rubbed at his lantern jaw with dubious hope.

  "Yes," said Audsley, rising to his feet. Aedelbert scampered up his arm and back to his shoulder. "Now, Aedelbert, listen very carefully."

  "Does his firecat really understand him?" whispered Temyl to Bogusch, whose shrug Audsley caught out of the corner of his eye.

  "He understands my intent, if not my words. Now. Aedelbert. You're to search for an exit from this chamber but to exercise extreme caution at all times. Am I very clear?"

  Aedelbert eyed him and gave a deep-chested purr.

  "I'm serious. No foolishness. Are you ready?" Aedelbert licked the tip of Audsley's nose with his sandpapery tongue and chirped. "Very well. Have at thee, chamber!" And Audsley cast Aedelbert up into the air.

  The tawny firecat immediately snapped his wings open and beat them swiftly, rising in fits and starts until he could latch on to the side of the closest pillar about ten yards up. He furled his wings and hung there, head swiveling as he took in the room.

  "Is that it?" Temyl had risen to his feet and stood beside Audsley.


  "No, no, he's scoping out the lay of the land. Your average firecat is never hasty, always precise, and Aedelbert is a supreme hunter even amongst their number. Give him a moment."

  Aedelbert scooted up so that he could curl up on the precarious ledge at the base of his arch and wrapped his tail around his hindquarters.

  "Looks like he's going to sleep."

  "He is not going to sleep. Aedelbert!" Audsley pitched his voice into a hiss. "Fly! Avast! Hunt!"

  The firecat watched Audsley's arm waving with curiosity, and then let loose an inquisitive Mrrkhao?

  Temyl sighed and sat back down.

  Audsley put his hands on his hips. "Don't tell me you're still mad about earlier, Aedelbert. Now is really not the time."

  The firecat shook out his wings once more and closed his eyes as if settling down for a nap.

  "Alright, I apologize, both without reservation and from the depths of my heart. Now, please? A little scouting?"

  Aedelbert cracked open an eye.

  Audsley felt his face burning. He didn't want to even imagine the looks on the other men's faces. "I mean it. I'll write out the whole apology later, but for now, let it suffice. Yes? Please?"

  Aedelbert stood up haughtily and opened his wings. He licked his nose, looked around, and then dove off the side of the pillar and disappeared into the gloom.

  "See?" Audsley turned to the others triumphantly. "Just as I said."

  "Uh-huh," said Temyl, but now he was watching Meffrid, who had moved to Tiron's side. "Ser. How bad is it?"

  "Stop fussing," said Tiron. "It's a cut. I've had worse."

  "We should check," said Meffrid, but he stopped when Tiron cracked open an eye. There was in Tiron's gaze something utterly forbidding. "All right. As you command."

  Audsley turned back to the gloomy depths of the massive chamber. Where did all these Portals lead? A nexus for travel, he marveled. Who knew what far-off lands or hidden corners could be accessed from here? This was a find to beggar the imagination. Oh! Wait till he brought word back to Nous, till he could regale the Academy with his discovery, the greatest find in centuries! But first there had to be rigorous examination, with each and every mystery being mercilessly interrogated and ultimately elucidated to his own satisfaction.