Page 14 of The Last of the Dark Lords

Look.

The voice resounded loudly in my head, alien and strange, not like any human sound. It echoed with the power of the ocean’s depths.

Before me, the moss- and coral-covered stones of the ancient monuments shifted and blurred, forming images that sprang to life in front of my eyes.

The unfathomably tall spires of Ashfuror, black and sooty, set against an orange-red sky. I recognized them from the illustrations in the history books I read as a child.

The inside of a cathedral of Stahkla, with an iron icon of the god himself. I stood in front of the altar, standing and grasping the hands of a tall, thin man in red robes, decorated with intricate gold embroidery.

Blaze, riding at great speed across a desolate plain, with me on his back, bearing the glowing orange banner of the Dark Lord. A flock of ravens circled overhead.

What was this? Some prediction or conjuration of what might be?

My grandmother, standing at the shrine of Vazzart, blood dripping from her hands, seeping through her fingers, falling to the earth below.

“No!”

Water flowed into my open mouth, silencing my cry, and I was choking, I was drowning. I squeezed my eyes closed, willing myself out of whatever this was, this vision or manifestation or terrible dream.

A bright light shone behind my closed eyelids, turning them from black to orange. I opened my eyes and I was once againback at the altar. The buck still stood in front of me, its intense brown eyes staring into my very soul.

You must go to him.

“How do I stop it? How do I save her?” I couldn’t keep myself from uttering a desperate plea. My grandmother was all I had, the only thing left that connected me to my parents. “Please…”

Go to him.

From behind me at the foot of the mountain, the clarion call of a horn rang out, echoing off the slopes. I turned toward it, but from where I stood I had no view of Greatfalls, or of the outer walls.

I turned back. The animal was gone.

Was this the visitation of Vazzart? The buck hadn’t spoken but a few words to me, but what it had shown me was terrifying. Were these visions of a set future, or could I change the outcome?

There were no answers to be had, only the gentle gurgle of water from atop the shrine. I shook with anger. I had been given no answers, only some disturbing images and a vague directive to “go to him.”

I assumed the “him” was the Dark Lord, but why? Why did I have to go to him? Would it circumvent the visions or would it cause them to come into being?

Another horn blast broke me from my reverie, and I took off down the mountain at a clip. Regardless of whatever had just happened, if that horn meant what I thought it did, then I needed to be there for it.

The arrival of the army of the Dark Lord.

Chapter 5

When I arrived, Grandmother and my brother were at the front gate, surrounded by her personal guard and a regiment of Archers.

For once in his life, my brother was serious. He stared at me as I walked toward them, an undercurrent of anxiety tempering his typical arrogant expression.

There was no fear on Grandmother’s face. She exuded a business-like severity. Her hand rested steady and strong atop her staff of carved hickory. She faced the closed gate. I fell in at her side. The soldiers around us were tense and restless.

I smiled confidently at the Archers. It would put them at ease if I could project a sense of confidence. Several of the younger recruits loosened their stances slightly. Good. It would be a disaster if someone’s panic caused them to shoot without provocation.

My grandmother took a deep breath. “Are you ready, Skye?” she asked.

I nodded. “I am.”

“Raise the gate!” Grandmother’s voice pierced the air, echoing first off the wood of the outer wall and once more off the stone of the dam behind us.

The stewards of the gate reached up and pulled down on thick ropes, and the metal lattice rose to reveal three figures on horses. There was a man in black robes adorned with the orange sigils of Stahkla. The symbols glowed with an unearthly orange light. Two armored guards flanked him, cloaked and hooded.

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