Chronicles of The Magi - Book 2 - The Kingdom of Dreams

Pierre-Eric Raby (order #2198046)
The Chronicles of the Magi

Book 2: THE KINGDOM OF DREAMS
By Dave Morris
Copyright 1997 by Dave Morris.
ISBN 978-1-906402-08-2
First published in the UK in 1997 by Hodder
Childrens Books.
This digital edition published in 2009 by Magnum
Opus Press.
The right of Dave Morris to be identified as the
author of this work has been asserted by him in
accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents
Act 1988.
All characters in this publication are fictitious and
any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is
purely coincidental.
All rights reserved.
Cover by Jon Hodgson
http://www.magnumopuspress.com
hello@magnumopuspress.com

To Tim
The Magi
Now as at all times I can see in the minds eye,
In their stiff, painted clothes, the pale unsatisfied ones
Appear and disappear in the blue depth of the sky
With all their ancient faces like rain-beaten stones,
And all their helms of silver hovering side by side,
And all their eyes still fixed, hoping to find once more,
Being by Calvarys turbulence unsatisfied,
The uncontrollable mystery on the bestial floor.
William Butler Yeats
The Story
So Far
While travelling through the ice-locked country of
Krarth in the land of Legend, Altor, a young warriormonk, countered a mortally wounded stranger who
entrusted him with the jewelled pommel-stone of the
Sword of Life. This magical weapon is said to be the
only thing that can overcome the Five Magi ancient
wizards who, banished from the earth, have transformed themselves into baleful comets in the night
sky.
But the pommel stone was soon lost and along
with Caelestis, a clever knave Altor found himself
obliged to participate in a deadly contest to regain it.
The pair succeeded, but in doing so earned themselves
the undying emnity of an Oriental warlock known as
Icon the Ungodly.
Their next step is to find the hilt of the Sword of
Life. But now the Five Magi themselves are aware
of their quest, and will use all of their otherworldly
power in an effort to prevent it. Altor and Caelestis will find that many terrible dangers lie in wait for
them....

Chapter 1
The Knights
Quest
cant believe what Im hearing! What in heavens

name were you thinking of?
Keep your voice down, said Altor with a frown.
Hell hear you.
They both turned to look at the old knight who sat
in the corner of the inn beside the empty hearth. He
bent over his bowl of soup, pretending not to notice
the argument.
Caelestis leaned closer. I only stepped outside for
a few moments, he said peevishly, and I come back
to find youve sworn us to some absurd quest. Have
you forgotten that youre a monk, not a knight of the
Tamorian court?
Altor ignored his friends show of irritation. As you
very well know, he said, I belong to a warrior order

and we must take the same vows of chivalry that bind

any knight. The old gentleman has a weighty problem
Indeed, but why should it be up to us to solve it
for him?
Because he did not ask for our aid. He is too proud,
being a true knight, and so the only honourable thing
to do was to offer to help.
Caelestis gave him a wide-eyed look. You call that
chivalry? Helping people because they dont ask for
help? I think you are confusing honour with simplemindedness, Altor!
At first Caelestis had tried to whisper, but as he got
more excited his voice rose until the old knight could
not ignore it. Clearing his throat, he beckoned them
to his table.
Altor bowed respectfully and sat down opposite
him. Caelestis slid reluctantly onto the far end of the
bench.
The knight reached for the poker and with palsied
hands stirred the cold embers in the grate. Under a
crust of ash, the last glimmer of the previous evenings
fire showed as cracks of orange light. The knight huddled over the fire and looked back over his shoulder
at Caelestis.
I know what youre thinking. Im a poor feeble old
man right enough. But once I was young and healthy

like you. Though old and broken now, I was a straight

sapling in my youth. My waist was then as slender as
my wheezing chest is now, and my chest then as broad
as the paunch I presently wear. Age, that implacable
foe, has not been kind to Varadax, knight of Lushon.
Wise words, responded Caelestis without much
interest. And here is a lesson for us all: be courteous
to the elderly, for one day we too shall be old. Still
Still, said Sir Varadax with sudden vehemence,
here I must sit to the end of my days, huddled by
the hearth, and I curse the infirmities of old age because they prevent me from taking vengeance on my
foe. And when I gulp the last of this worlds air, the
thought that shall rankle my heart and burn in the
ashes of my brain is that the Lady in Grey has not
been punished for her unholy crimes!
Altor joined in. Sir Varadax has already told me
how this Lady in Grey brought about the death of his
brother. She is a witch, Caelestis.
A witch? cried Sir Varadax, flinging up his hands.
She is a demon in mortal guise! No earthly woman
could be so lovely and yet nurture such evil in her
breast. Nor was my brother her only victim not by
any means. She has caused the death of many blameless men across the years.
It seems a trifle harsh to condemn the woman
without hearing her own version of events, Caelestis

ventured.
Altor shook his head doggedly. I spoke to the innkeeper. He confirmed Sir Varadaxs story. The Lady
in Grey is well known in this region for her depravity
and diabolic magic. Unfortunately, here in Krarth the
authorities regard such behaviour as normal.
Varadax nodded. As long as she restricts her victims
to peasants, wanderers and foreigners like myself and
my brother, she is free to do as she likes. It makes me
seethe to think of the injustices she has perpetrated,
all of them unpunished!
Caelestis could see the way things are going and
he did not like it. The only advice we can give you,
sir knight, is this old adage: the best revenge is to live
well. Now, my friend and I should be moving on...
Even as he spoke, Caelestis knew it was too late.
The flame of adventure was in Altors eyes. Our duty
is clear, said the young warrior-monk. This demon
woman will account for her misdeeds, and she will do
so before the sun sets on another day. So I swear by
almighty God and all His troops of angels!
Well spoken, young sir, said the knight, overjoyed.
Caelestis just groaned.
Hoarfrost shimmered in the pre-dawn light. Cobwebs
of silvery lace covered the hedgerows. They passed a

group of peasants beginning their hard days toil in

the fields.
Sir Varadax sat astride his horse, an aged but still
powerful beast with a fierce glint in its eye. Caelestis and Altor, having left Kalugens Keep a few weeks
before with barely twenty silver florins between them,
were on foot.
Good cheer had made Sir Varadax sprightly. He
wore his armour sturdily despite his frail frame and
for the last few miles, as casually as if he were riding
to a fair rather than a deadly battle, he had been regaling them with stories of his youth.
Impatience finally got the better of Caelestis. We
have a quest of our own, Sir Varadax. Did my friend
tell you? We are gathering the scattered parts of a
magic sword which
Indeed, indeed, said Varadax, surveying the
landscape loftily. A worthy project, lad. No doubt
the hardships you endure along the way will build
strength of character...
Caelestis fell behind the horse, pulling Altor back
by the arm. In an undertone he said: We agree to
help the old buzzard and now he treats us like his
squires. Also, notice that he didnt offer to help us in
our quest. Frankly, I think his concept of chivalry is a
bit one-sided.
Altor could not help smiling. Hes waited years for

this moment, Caelestis, so forgive him for his singlemindedness, cant you? And as for our own quest, remember that virtue is its own reward.
I suspect you were taught logic by a halfwit, said
Caelestis grumpily. Virtue will not provide me with
new boots when these wear out, nor will it guide us to
the next part of the Sword of Life.
For that we dont need virtue, said Altor in a tone
which his friend found infuriating. We have faith.
Sir Varadax had drawn up his horse. It snorted
steam into the grey morning air. They caught up with
him and saw, on the crest of the next hill, a tower
whose walls were choked with ivy. It looked like a
knot of shadow in the twilight.
The abode of the Lady in Grey, said Varadax. Now
the grim task is upon us, my young friends. May the
soul of my brother witness our deed this day, and may
the mother of God grant that our courage is strong.
Amen to that, said Altor grimly. He loosened his
sword in its scabbard so that he could draw it instantly
when needed.
They approached the tower in silence. Dusty skulls
lay either side of the open portcullis. Varadax dismounted and tethered his steed to a rusted iron ring
set in the tower wall.
All three looked at each other. By tacit agreement,
Altor advanced first into the gateway. The other two
10
followed cautiously, treading with great stealth up a

flight of stairs that wound up into the cold heart of
the tower.
At the top they entered a low chamber. It was still
filled with gloom, dark and chill as an ocean bed, for
the sun had not yet risen to shine through the narrow windows. As their eyes became accustomed to
the dim light they suddenly realized there was a tall
woman standing at the end of the room. She seemed
to appear all in a rush, as though the shadows had
clotted together in human shape. Her hair was a blaze
of icy whiteness and her skin, even though she had
the features of a young woman, looked grey and lifeless in the gloom.
She turned her gaze on them a thrilling stare.
The same look that a hawk gives its prey.
Dread damsel, said Varadax, speaking loudly to
hide the nervousness in his voice, monster without
heart, weve come to cleanse the world of you.
Her smile guttered like a candle flame, a brief gleam
swiftly replaced by a dark-lipped scowl. Bold words,
but I see only a decrepit old man and two milky striplings. If you see me shake, its not from fear.
There was a steely sigh. Altor had drawn his sword.
In the half-light it shone like an icicle in the sun.
Madam, said Caelestis, this old gentleman has
made some serious allegations against you and
11
neither he nor my friend are in much of a mood to

listen to veiled threats. But what can be gained by
brute violence or tainting the air with sorcery? Surely
it would be more sensible if we were all to sit down
and discuss this...
The Lady in Grey made a sound. It was a little
like a laugh but only a little. Youve a tongue worth
pickling, boy. Ill be sure to find a jar worthy of such
contents.
Sir Varadax took a stride forward, his own sword in
his hand. He had been the first to sense the sudden
change in the sorceresss tone that warned of impending action. Even so, he was not quick enough. The
Lady spoke a word that twisted the shadows around
her. Varadax gave a sharp cry of pain and was flung
back as though a mule had kicked him in the chest.
He landed heavily on the flagstones beside the other
two. There he lay a moment, then slowly got to his
feet.
The Lady in Grey seemed mildly surprised. I call
that spell my Unseen Lance. It is rare for a foe to
rise after being struck down by it.
Varadax shook his head groggily. Im driven by
thirty years of hatred, witch. All your spells couldnt
keep me from my vengeance now.
Altor stepped forward beside him, followed a second later by Caelestis who, at last, reluctantly drew his
12
own sword.
Lady, said Altor, although a novice I am empowered to hear your confession. I advise you to make
your peace with God now, for we have all three sworn
an oath to send you this day back to your infernal
master in Hell.
Actually, said Caelestis, I didnt make the oath
myself, but I am forced to agree with the general sentiment.
The Lady tossed her head disdainfully. A monk, a
knave and an old man you think I count you more
than spittle in the dust? I have other spells and other
servitors, and more than enough ways to
The first pink rays of the sun washed the room. As
the light touched her, the Lady in Grey fell silent. She
stood rigid as though turned to stone.
She is frozen by the daybreak! cried Varadax triumphantly. We must seize our chance and slay her
now.
He leaped forward, sword upraised, but he was
mistaken in thinking the Lady powerless. Her luminous eyes flashed, cold white pebbles in the red glow
of dawn. Varadax felt the floor shift beneath his feet
and, staring down in horror, saw tendrils reaching up
out of the flagstones. They whipped around his legs,
encircled his chest and neck, pulled tight around his
wrists. In seconds he was caught fast in the grip of
13
granite-hard coils.
Im trapped! he gasped as the tendrils tightened
on his throat.
Altor had also launched himself across the room.
Caelestis shouted a warning. Altor glanced down to
see more tendrils oozing out of the floor by his feet.
He hacked them away before they could harden.
She can still cast her spells! said Caelestis.
Altor saw it was true. Although she was held motionless by the suns rays, the Ladys eyes still roved
around the chamber. The touch of her gaze was palpable the creep of spiders legs across bare skin.
Her voice whispered at the back of their minds. It
was a horrible sensation, like hearing a quiet voice
speak from under the bed when you think you lie
alone in your room. Did you think I would be so easy
to overcome? the voice said. Depart my tower at once
and I shall permit you to live. Refuse, and all the forces of the netherworld will be unleashed against you.
Caelestis was prepared to talk it over. All three of
us? he asked aloud.
No you striplings only. The silent voice hissed
inside their skulls. Varadax has vexed me once too
often. Now hell abide here among the remains of my
earlier victims.
Altor lifted his sword and began to advance towards
her. Out of the question.
14
Her eyes flashed with anger. So be it.

The growing daylight had illuminated two armoured figures standing against the rear wall. Now,
galvanized to sudden life, they hefted their spears and
moved forwards with clanking footsteps across the
room.
Altor saw he could not reach the Lady in Grey
before the armoured figures intercepted him. They
strode closer. Something about the scrutiny of those
dark visors chilled Altors blood. Then he realized the
ponderous movements, the doomful aura, the hollow
death-knell clang that rang out with each step.... It
was not living men he faced, but ghosts encased in
ancient armour! He fell back in a defensive stance and
was relieved when Caelestis appeared at his side.
The nearest suit of armour drove its spear towards
Altors throat. Caelestis started to say something, but
his words were drowned out by the clash of metal on
metal as Altor parried with his silver sword. Sparks
leapt, blazing stars in the soft dawn light. Outside,
incongruously, birds had begun singing. In the tower
room, the only sounds were the clank and grind of
metal and the young adventurers desperate intakes of
breath.
Caelestis jumped to avoid a low thrust, then ducked
as his adversary swung the spear butt around towards
his head. Agile as he was, he could not avoid these
15
attacks forever. Altor with his sturdy magic sword at

least had the choice of parrying the spear strikes, but
he wasnt tireless either. Slowly they were forced back
towards the wall. Once they were trapped there with
no room to manoeuvre, it would all be over.
Cant you exorcize these things? Get rid of the
ghosts inside somehow? panted Caelestis, barely
weaving aside in time to avoid a slicing attack that
would have laid open his guts.
I never got as far as the exorcism lessons, Im
afraid.
Some monk youll make, then, snorted Caelestis.
He stopped retreating; the parapet of the window was
against his back.
Altor drove the point of his sword against his opponents blank metal face. The metal tore open with a
tortured screech, leaving an open gash into the hollow
interior of the suit, but to no avail. The armoured figure drew back its spear, then thrust with supernatural
strength directly towards Altors heart.
16
Chapter 2
In
Dreams
ff-balance after his lunge at the armours visor, Altor saw no chance to avoid the lethal
spear-tip. But just an instant before it struck
he was shoved to one side. The spear passed between
him and Caelestis. Sparks and chips of masonry flew
as its blade snapped against the wall.
Caelestis somersaulted over his friend and was on
his feet instantly. Altor rolled over in time to see the
armoured suit turn, stabbing down at him with the
butt of the spear. He slashed his sword across and was
gratified to see the wooden haft of the spear shatter
in his foes hands.
The suit of armour reeled with the momentum of
its attack, teetering above him, and for a moment Altor thought it was going to fall and squash him, but
17
by some miracle it stayed upright. The other began to

lumber around, lowering its own spear to skewer him
where he lay. Altor scrambled to his feet. If youve got
a plan in mind, he said, nows the time for it.
Caelestis shook his head. I cant think of anything
clever. Still, what the hell...
He shrugged and threw his sword at the Lady in
Greys head.
Her eyes, following the arc of Caelestiss sword as
it hurtled across the room, shone with cold hatred.
Magical energy pulsed, leaving an acrid taste in the air,
and the sword rebounded from an invisible shield.
Rapid clanking footsteps came towards Caelestis.
He turned to see the second suit of armour advancing
on him, spear levelled to impale him. Unarmed as he
now was, he could not parry and it was too late to
dodge. Oh well, he said. It was worth a try.
But his gamble had not been in vain. While using
her magic to deflect the thrown sword, the Lady in
Grey had forgotten about Sir Varadax. Without her
concentration to maintain them, the stone tendrils
holding him fast went slack.
Varadax didnt waste time wondering about this
turn of events. His sword lashed out towards the Ladys neck. She had no opportunity to summon up another magical shield. The old knights stroke cleaved
her head from her shoulders. Still wearing the same
18
evil scowl, it fell with a crunch to the flagstones.

At the same instant there was a soft howl as something escaped from inside the suits of armour. They
swayed and slumped forward like broken puppets.
Altor reached out tentatively and prodded the nearest one. It rocked back on its heels and crashed lifeless
to the floor.
Just in the nick of time, said Caelestis, delicately
pushing aside the spear that the other suit of armour
had been about to drive between his ribs.
Were lucky it worked at all, said Altor. Was that
the best you could come up with, Caelestis? Throwing your sword at her? Couldnt you have called the
Faltyn or something?
Sure, said Caelestis, glancing at the magic ring he
wore. And Id have still been bargaining with it when
they were hanging our bodies out for the crows. Stop
complaining were alive, arent we?
Varadax stepped free of the tendrils which were now
shrivelling back into the floor. The Lady in Greys
head lay at his feet. Her eyes were still open, but the
light had faded from them. Now they just looked like
old pebbles. And it was grey dust, not blood, that
seeped from her severed veins.
Caelestis and Altor looked in mingled disgust and
horror at the spreading pool of dust, but Varadax
mustered a smile.
19
Now my brothers soul can rest in peace, he said.

Striding contemptuously through the grey dust, he
went to the back of the room to where an ivory plaque
bore a faded coat-of-arms.
Your own crest, Sir Varadax? said Altor.
My brothers, in fact, as he was the elder. Mine
now, of course. Varadax reached out and touched the
plaque wistfully only to jump back in surprise as it
gave a click. With a heavy grating sound, a section of
the floor tilted down to reveal a narrow stairway.
All three stared in silence.
I think we just ought to leave now, said Caelestis
after a few seconds, although he didnt expect the others to take any notice.
A secret door... said Altor. What other dark mysteries has the witch got hidden away?
Varadax stood gazing open-mouthed into the stairwell. They noticed he was trembling in the grip of
overwhelming emotion. Can it be? After all these
years...
He started down the stairs. Altor and Caelestis
glanced at each other and then reluctantly followed.
They went down and down until they realized they
were somewhere beneath the towers foundations.
Bare rock sweated dankness into the musty air. The
stairs were cramped into such a small space that Altors broad shoulders almost became wedged tight at
20
one point. Caelestis waited a few seconds while his

friend twisted to and fro uncomfortably, then gave
him a shove with the heel of his boot.
Ow!
Sorry. But it did the job.
The stairs had ended. They were almost in darkness. Then a gleam of light spurted from a passage
ahead. Varadax stood haloed by a lamp hed found.
Altor and Caelestis hurried to catch up. The elderly
knight was standing in front of a narrow oak doorway.
The handle was a ring of black iron. Varadax kept
starting to reach for it, then nervously pulling his
hand away.
What is it? asked Altor gently. Whats in there?
And can it just stay there, whatever it is? chipped in
Caelestis. Although normally as curious as a starved
cat, he found the eerie atmosphere of the place was
getting to him.
Varadax drew breath in a deep sob, like a man about
to plunge into freezing water, and turned the handle.
The door swung inwards with a groan of rusted
hinges.
Reverently they stepped into the chamber beyond.
There was a sense of portent in the air that silenced
even Caelestiss garrulous tongue. Varadax raised the
lamp, and it is light they saw an open stone casket
and, in it, a figure who lay as pale as an effigy of wax.
21
Its her ! gasped Caelestis, the words catching in

his throat. The Lady in Grey!
Varadax shook his head. No, he said in a melancholy voice. It is the form she stole. This was my
brothers bride, Seresha, who on her wedding night
these many years past was struck down by the witchs
curse.
He knelt beside the casket. Altor crossed himself
and muttered a quick prayer, then threw a disapproving glance at his friend.
Caelestis, who had been scanning the chamber for
any loose gold fittings that the Lady in Grey might
have left lying about, coughed and tried to look suitably sympathetic. A sad tale, he said. But after all it
was a very long time ago.
Despite the stern discipline learned in a lifetime
of warfare, Varadax wept uncontrollably. Altor put a
hand on his shoulder.
At least her body is unblemished by decay, he said.
We can lay her in the ground as pure as she was on
that long-ago night.
Yii! Caelestis said suddenly and jumped back several feet.
Altor glared at him, but Caelestis was pointing at
the body. Her lips moved! he insisted.
Varadax rose at once and leaned across the casket,
pressing his ear to the maidens white breast. I hear
22
the flutter of a heartbeat! He turned to them, his old

face twisted into a pathetic grin of joy. Help me to
raise her up.
Altor put an arm behind Sereshas shoulders and
lifted her to a sitting position. A long dreadful moment passed in which they all feared they had been
mistaken, and that it really was a lifeless corpse that
they were handling. But then she took a swooning
breath and a little colour came into the pallid cheeks.
The eyes fluttered open the beat of tiny birds
wings to reveal eyes so blue that they looked like
amethysts.
She raised her head to look at them. Soft blond
hair fell to frame the same face that on the Lady in
Grey had looked frightening, but which Sereshas innocence transformed into beauty. She looked from
Altor to Caelestis without recognition, but when her
gaze fell on Varadax she stared in amazement.
Surely... she began, then faltered. She could not
believe her eyes.
Yes, yes, sobbed Varadax through happy tears. It
is I, Varadax.
She reached up to touch his old lined face. I dreamt
you came to waken me. You and two others, who each
bore half of a broken blade. But Varadax whats happened? You look so old.
Its been thirty years, he said. I returned from my
23
travels only recently only to discover the evil acts the

witch had perpetrated. I should never have gone away.
I blame myself for all thats happened to you.
She shook her head gently. No, it is not your fault.
And, Varadax... She hesitated. What of my husband?
Dead.
The look in her eyes showed she had expected it.
Poor Jodax. But I am forgetting your friends...
Altor and Caelestis both bowed one with respectful formality, the other as flamboyantly as ever.
My lady, we are merely glad to have been able to
serve you, said Caelestis grandly. Risk means nothing to us. Reward is a thing we spurn. Righteousness
is our only watchword.
Youve changed your tune, said Altor out of the
corner of his mouth.
Ignoring him, Caelestis stepped forward and offered Seresha his hand to help her out of the casket.
She looked from his face to Altors and smiled. In
my dream you were different. Not so young not
so carefree. Evil stars were set against you in your
quest.
Caelestis shrugged this off, but Altor took it more
seriously. There is often truth in dreams, he said.
The more so in Sereshas case, put in Varadax,
since she was once a seeress of Wyrd.
24
It meant nothing to Caelestis and Altor. Seeing

their puzzled looks, Seresha said: May we go up into
the daylight? Then Ill explain what I can.
A few minutes later they were standing on the
grassy slope below the tower. Though it was a winters morning, the cold was nothing compared to the
icy interior of the tower and the pale sun gave a little
cheer.
Varadax gave Seresha his cloak and, seeing her shiver still, put his arm around her shoulders. She smiled
at him. To Altor and Caelestis she said: I was born in
the Kingdom of Wyrd, an island far to the north. The
island is ruled by the Warlock King...
Ive heard of him, said Altor, frowning. I thought
he was a myth made up to frighten children.
Hes real, and it is not only the children of Wyrd
who fear him. He has the power to enter dreams and
he sends terrible nightmares to those who oppose his
rule. Sometimes people dont wake up. She could not
help looking back at the tower where she had lain so
long.
Did he send the Lady in Grey to punish you?
asked Altor.
I dont know. The Warlock King isnt supposed to
have any power outside his own realm thats why
I fled here across the sea, to put myself beyond his
reach. The Lady in Grey might have been his agent.
25
Or not. Well never know now.

Caelestis tugged at his chin thoughtfully. Lady, Sir
Varadax said you were a seeress. Does that mean your
dreams might have some hidden significance?
Seresha smiled. That is something you will have to
tell me. If a broken sword means anything Ah, I see
it does. Well, in my dream the two of you were bound
for Wyrd.
Caelestis mouth drooped. For Wyrd? North, you
say? In the dead of winter? A dismal prospect indeed.
You couldnt have been mistaken, I suppose?
Altor laughed and clapped his friend on the back.
Youre always one for checking a horses teeth, Caelestis! Cant you see that this clue is a gift from heaven?
We need to find the next part of the Sword of Life.
>From the Lady Sereshas dream it seems well find it
in Wyrd.
Be careful, then, said Seresha. Once you enter the
Kingdom of Wyrd youll come under the Warlock
Kings power. If he notices youve come, hell kill you
in your dreams.
26
Chapter 3
The
Meteor
ets face facts, said Caelestis. Were lost.

It had been quite a few hours since he and
Altor had said goodbye to Seresha and Varadax, with the assurance that they could not fail to
find their way to the inn in Misdren village before
nightfall. But they had taken a wrong turn on the forest road and found themselves on a twisting path that
grew steadily narrower and at last petered out altogether. By the time they had realized their mistake
and started back towards the crossroads, darkness had
begun closing in behind the branches overhead.
To make matters worse, snow now began to fall
huge feathery flakes that danced in the air. A biting
cold descended with it from the evening sky. Caelestis
pulled his cloak around him and cursed through
27
gritted teeth.
You shouldve spent your money on sensible travelling clothes instead of courtly finery, said Altor unsympathetically.
Bad enough that I have to risk my life on some
foolish adventure, complained Caelestis. Do you also
expect me to go about looking like a peasant on his
way to a cattle market?
A dim sickly light seeped down between the trees.
Altor pointed to the green disk swiftly rising over
the treetops. See, the comet that the Krarthians call
Green Flame. Its one of the Five.
I know. It was me that told you about them, remember? Its a planet of ill omen, Altor the more so
for us, since the Five are our foes.
Men make their own luck. In this case, Green
Flame may ironically give us aid. Now then... he
turned, getting his bearings, it always rises in the
north-west, so the path ought to be somewhere over
this way.
Altor strode on with cheerful vigour, oblivious of
the glare that Caelestis directed at his back. Still more
infuriatingly, it was only a few moments before Altor called out in triumph. And here it is! Come on,
Caelestis. Only an hour or so to go and well be warming ourselves with hot broth at the tavern fireside.
They threaded their way through the darkened
28
woods. The snow soon stopped falling but the temperature continued to drop. The air became crisp as
a light frost formed on the bark of the trees. They
could see nothing but the thin snow-dusted ribbon
of the path just ahead. Everything else was lost in
the gloom. Through the overhanging branches they
caught glimpses of the green comet sailing like an
emerald through the star-filled night sky.
An hours slog through frost-brittle ferns brought
them to a clearing that they had not passed before.
Neither had spoken in all this time. Caelestis stopped
and blew out his breath in a long indignant puff. You
know the story of Pandora? he said. How she let all
the ills in the world out of a jar?
Altor nodded warily, because he knew Caelestis was
only setting him up for some elaborate reprimand.
After all the ills had flown, there was one thing left
and it was Hope, went on Caelestis. Now, the question that I find myself asking is: was this a good thing?
One point of view is that Hope makes the worlds ills
tolerable. I reject this thesis. My own experience has
been and here he rounded on his friend angrily
that a false hope makes a miserable situation ten
times worse!
We must have found the wrong path, said Altor.
The only thing now is to build a campfire and wait
till dawn.
29
His calmly efficient tone that only annoyed Caelestis all the more. If, if mind you, we had not dillydallied around with Sir Varadax and the admittedly
charming Seresha then we would have passed through
the woods before sunset and reached Misdren hours
ago.
The old gentlemen wanted to tell us about the exploits of his youth, Altor said adamantly. It wouldve
been rude to leave sooner. In any case, you were so
attentive to the lady Seresha that I began to think I
was going to have to physically prise you away from
her side.
Pah! I was merely rubbing the circulation back into
her delicate hands after that long sleep.
Not just her hands, I think, Caelestis, chided
Altor.
Caelestis rolled up his eyes. Then he caught sight of
something. Pointing up into the night sky, he grabbed
Altors arm. Look!
A flare of light stood out from the Green Flame for
an instant, like a cinder breaking off a burning log.
They both stood squinting into the darkness. Caelestis put up one hand to cover the Green Flame itself,
and could now make out a speck of light falling earthwards. At first no bigger than a firefly, it grew rapidly
in size and brightness. A high-pitched whistling was
audible in the still night air.
30
I have a bad feeling about this, said Caelestis.

Altor drew him back silently into the undergrowth
at the edge of the clearing. The green flare swept low,
skimming the treetops. Branches broke into splinters.
The flare hit the centre of the clearing and exploded
in a jet of emerald sparks.
Caelestis poked at his ears. The high-pitched whistling had stopped, but now he could hear an ominous
hissing. Steam rose from the place where the flare had
struck.
Altor pointed to a large black stone lying in the
centre of the crater. It looks a bit like an egg! he
whispered.
I do wish you hadnt said that...
There was a deep cracking sound. Darkness spread
suddenly from the meteorite, filling the crater like a
black pool.
The stark light of the Green Flame shone down
over the pine trees. The surface of the shadowy pool
pulsed and swirled. Then a hunched figure rose slowly
as though forming out of the earth.
With a dry crackling of its joints it shrugged off
the dank soil and straightened up. Black robes hung
around a body that was like the skeleton of an alien
being. It stood poised in the middle of the clearing,
glowing green eyes slowly scanning the surrounding
foliage. Caelestis could not help shrinking back as he
31
felt its gaze sweep over their hiding-place.

A frozen twig snapped under his heel. The creature swung to face them, instantly alert. It raised two
hands of fleshless bone and, uttering a long screech
of triumph, came charging across the hard ground
straight towards them.
Altor jumped up. His sword swept around in a glittering arc. As it struck the creature there was a pulse
of dazzling green light. Both Altor and Caelestis
shielded their eyes. When they looked up, the creature had vanished.
Perhaps it wasnt real, said Altor. An illusion of
some kind.
But Caelestis pointed to the footprints in the snow.
It was there all right whatever it was. I guess were
just lucky youve got a magic sword.
Hmm. The sword doesnt usually have such a spectacular effect. Altor looked at the crater, which was
still belching steam up into the icy air. I dont think
we ought to camp here after all.
Caelestis was not about to disagree with that. They
hurried away from the clearing. Frosty pine needles
crunched underfoot. The cold orb of the Green Flame
glared down through the black forest canopy like an
eye gazing from the centre of a spiders web.
After a time, feeling they had put a safe distance
between themselves and the spot where the meteor
32
fell to earth, they stopped. Nothing stirred in the

green-limned darkness. The forest was shrouded in
snow and dead silence.
Altor gathered some twigs and tried to get a fire
going, but the wood was damp with snowflakes and
refused to light. Caelestis huddled down beside the
trunk of an ancient pine, gazing disconsolately into
the darkness.
Altor tore up thick clumps of ferns and brought
them over. Cover yourself with these. Theyll help
keep you warm.
Caelestis continued to stare off between the trees.
Get soil and sap all over my clothes? he grumbled.
Id sooner freeze to death.
Altor shrugged. Suit yourself. He sat down and
draped the ferns across him like a blanket.
Time passed. Altor suddenly found himself awake,
fully alert. It was still dark. Green Flame, now close
to setting, cast a ghastly light through the woods that
made the branches look like gnarled fingers. Beside
Altor, Caelestis was curled up fast asleep with his
head pillowed on the roots of the tree.
Altor rose and looked around to see what had roused
him. Suddenly something burst from the undergrowth.
Altor reached for his sword, and smiled when he saw
it was just a rabbit. It sat on the snow in front of him
for a split-second, a little knot of quivering tension,
33
then bounded off between the trees.

Altor went over to where it had appeared. He peered
into the deep gloom, but could not see anything that
might have scared the rabbit. Probably an owl... he
said to himself.
He walked back to the tree. Caelestis yawned,
stretched and turned over in his sleep. Altor grinned,
a little shamefaced that his friend was able to sleep
soundly while his keen warrior instincts had woken
him merely because of one frightened rabbit.
There was a cold tingle down his spine. Altor spun
around and found himself staring into a face of alien
white bone with eyes like disks of jade.
He jumped back and felt its clawed fingers rake
the air just next to his cheek. He half-stumbled over
Caelestis, who woke with a curse and sat up angrily.
Whats going Great God in heaven! Caelestis
jumped up, rebounded off the tree trunk, and reeled
aside as the creature leaned towards him. Its hard fingers speared the bark of the tree, instantly spreading a
patch of deathly white frost.
Dont let it touch you! shouted Altor as he drew
his sword.
No kidding, said Caelestis, snatching up a broken
branch to parry the things claws. Where it struck the
branch, the wood became brittle and sheathed in ice.
Altor gave a battle cry and lunged towards the
34
creature. It turned, skinless jaws gaping to spill loamy

soil over the frosty ground. The wave of intense cold
emanating from it made his skin tingle. The silver
sword slid between its ribs, but this time it did not
vanish. Instead the lambent eyes only glowed more
fiercely. Altor swayed backwards to avoid the icy
clutch of its claws, bringing his sword up and striking
at its face. The sword bit a shallow groove across its
brow, but that was all.
Wed better beat a retreat! said Altor.
Caelestis was quick to agree. They turned and ran
pell-mell into the forest with him leading the way.
The net of branches enfolded them. They ran without looking back. Boots crunched on frosty grass, ragged gasps punctuated the silence. An owl with eyes
like silver coins took flight from a nearby tree, beating
noiselessly off into the darkness.
The forest was hushed, serene. If not for the taste of
adrenaline in their mouths they might have thought
they were still asleep and dreaming.
They stopped when they could run no further. Altor slumped breathless against a tree and stared back
through the woods. The creature was nowhere in
sight, but Altor wasnt fooled. He could sense it, out
there somewhere, stalking them through the night.
Ahead lay a lake with a boat moored at its edge.
Caelestis, leaning against a boulder, pointed it out to
35
his friend.
Altor was dubious. It seems too convenient. Green
Flame is sometimes known as the gift star, but the
gifts it brings are always unlucky.
Caelestiss cloak had been ripped to tatters by
brambles as they ran, and his face was scratched
where branches had whipped painfully across it, but
for once he didnt care. Sucking the cold night air
into his lungs, he had neither complaints nor quips
to make. He could think only of the creature striding
after them, green eyes lighting the darkness, hands
of bone outstretched to suck the warmth from their
bodies.
We stay here, were dead, he decided.
They climbed into the boat and pushed off from
the shore. Altor took up the oars. Caelestis sat in the
prow and looked back at the wall of tree trunks encircling the lake.
At that moment the skeletal creature burst from the
bushes. Caelestis tensed as he met its unhuman stare.
It loped down to the edge of the lake and stopped.
Caelestis relaxed and began to smile. It seems our
friend cant swim... he said to Altor.
But Caelestiss grin soured when he saw the creature
bend and thrust its hands down towards the water.
Instantly a path of ice formed across the lake, angling
towards the boat and completely encircling it.
36
Altor tugged at the oar and realized it was stuck fast

in the ice. He turned to look back. The creature was
advancing across the ice towards them. How about
the Faltyn? he suggested.
Caelestis looked at his ring. Mistrusting the sorcerous creature it contained, he normally wore it with the
stone facing inwards. Turning it around on his finger,
he called to the Faltyn, coaxing it to appear with a
mixture of promises and threats.
It appeared, as ever, reluctantly a wisp of a figure
drifting like mist above the water of the lake. Its face
was a mask of otherworldly tranquility, but when it
spoke there was a tremble in that lilting voice: Do
not expect me to stand against the True Magis powers on your behalf, o mortal. In a twinkling I am gone
again.
It began to fade. Caelestis held up the ring. Not
yet, he said. First tell me how we can escape from
this creature.
The Faltyn lingered, unable to resist the magic of
the ring. You cannot. It has been sent by the Green
Flame and it draws its power constantly from the
earth and stones of Krarth. It cannot be avoided, cannot be destroyed.
What do you mean, sent by Green Flame? demanded Altor.
The Faltyn ignored him, staring transfixed at the
37
approaching creature until Caelestis waved the ring in

front of its face and repeated the question.
You have angered the dead lords who dwell in
the sky, said the Faltyn hastily. The five comets that
move above Krarth. Your quest is contrary to their
interests, and therefore Green Flame has decided to
dispose of you just as Blue Moons servants disposed
of the harpist who originally had the pommel stone.
If Green Flame fails, the others will take their turn.
Now let me go. I can do nothing to help.
Caelestis dismissed the Faltyn, which vanished as
soon as he had spoken the words.
The skeleton creature loomed over them, leering horribly. It seemed bigger now, filled with terrible power. The green radiance flowing from its body
made a crackling sound as tiny ice crystals formed in
the air. Without much hope, Altor swung his sword at
the things body. The coldness that instantly swept up
along the blade almost made him drop it. This time it
had no effect on the creature.
Caelestis stepped forward. He was holding the
other oar. He smashed it down not at the creature
itself, but at the ice on which it was standing.
The creature looked at Caelestis, gave a soundless
snarl and lashed out with its bony hand. Altor parried
the blow.
Caelestis struck again, heaving down with all his
38
weight. The ice cracked. The creature lashed out, this

time knocking Altors sword out of his numbed fingers. It fell into the bottom of the boat and he scrabbled to retrieve it.
Caelestis shoved the oar into the creatures midriff.
It shifted its weight, and in doing so placed one foot
on the crack in the ice. The crack widened and water rushed up around the creatures ankles, instantly
beginning to freeze as it lapped against the creatures
exoskeleton. Caelestis smashed at the ice a final time
and this time it shattered. With dreadful slowness
the creature toppled, trapped on the ice like a statue
on a pedestal. They watched without pity as it sank
into the black water. For a moment the green eyes
remained visible, baleful glimmering sparks, before
vanishing into the murky depths.
On the horizon, the comet called Green Flame
flared briefly as it sank out of sight over the edge of
the world.
39
Chapter 4
The Questing
Beast
ort Quag, on the eastern coast of Krarth, was a

bustling town that smelt of tar and fish and salt
spray. Caelestis and Altor reached it at noon,
having pressed on through Misdren village without
stopping, and were so weary that no sooner had they
found a pallet in the common room of The Sun in
Winter inn than they were deep in slumber.
When they woke it was evening and the tap room
of the inn was filling up with revellers. Caelestis examined his tattered clothes sadly and then stumbled
to the bar.
The innkeeper fixed him with a suspicious scowl. I
hope youve got the money to pay for your lodging,
he said. This is a reputable inn, not a doss-house for
beggars.
40
The blanket you gave me was full of fleas and the

pallet is as hard as a grave stone, retorted Caelestis
blearily. No self-respecting beggar would choose to
sleep in such conditions. Nonetheless he reached into
his pouch and paid the innkeeper a couple of florins.
The mans scowl was unchanged. If youre expecting a meal youd better find a few more coins to keep
those company.
Caelestis paid him two more florins. My friend
and I will have roast beef, steamed cabbage and turnip mash, with perhaps a few nutmeg cakes as dessert.
See that the beef is not overdone. Also bring a flask of
Asmulian red wine.
The innkeeper somehow managed to look amused
without losing the scowl. He pushed two wooden
plates across the bar and nodded towards a trough of
gruel beside the fire. There is your supper. To wash it
down we have Krarthian bitter ale or water. The water
is free of charge, but I advise against drinking it.
Caelestis raised a disdainful eyebrow. Why?
Have you ever suffered from the Brown Flux?
No.
Best keep it that way.
Caelestis went to wake Altor and the two sat beside
the fire eating their gruel. Its bad, Caelestis, said Altor at last.
Bad? Its revolting.
41
Not the gruel. Im talking about that thing that attacked us in the forest.
Caelestis groaned. Id hoped it was just a nightmare...
The Faltyn said that Green Flame sent it to hunt
us down. You remember I told you about the harpist
who gave me the pommel stone? The werewolves who
killed him were under the influence of Blue Moon.
Caelestis nodded. The comets are supposed to be
the spirits of the five greatest of the True Magi. Those
are The Five that the harpist mentioned.
So we must expect attacks from the others. What
can you tell me about them?
Green Flame and Blue Moon you already know
about. Also there is Red Death, which astrologers
take as the symbol of wanton carnage and terror.
White Light I believe represents secrecy and arcane
knowledge. Lastly theres Yellow Eye, which stands
for fever and decay.
I see that Krarthian astrology has its morbid
streak.
Caelestis gave a bleak laugh. No question of that.
Its a national characteristic in fact.
While they were talking, a scar-faced sailor had
rolled in off the street and greeted the landlord with a
jovial curse. In short order he downed three glasses of
the local firewater, a potent liquor brewed from sea42
weed. After this feat he inspected the room with large

bloodshot eyes, his gaze soon coming to rest on the
two friends.
Ah, the travellin sort, if Im not mistaken, he
barked. Lookin fer a spot of work, are yer, lads?
Altor saw that Caelestis was about to respond to
this with some uncomplimentary remark. To prevent
trouble, he quickly said: Its possible. We are trying to
get to Wyrd.
The sailor made a short mirthless sound. Theres
no chance of passage there til next spring. The whole
coast around it will be solid pack ice this time o year.
Course, you could go north and walk across, if yer
care to.
Very droll, said Caelestis. Now, why dont you take
your paunch and
You have a ship? said Altor hastily. Wheres she
bound, may I ask?
The sailor glared at Caelestis but had not yet drunk
enough to become aggressive. North a ways, to Dourhaven. A bit nearer to Wyrd, for all the good thatll
be.
Altor leaned towards Caelestiss ear. Dont offend
this fellow for goodness sake. We could get passage to
Dourhaven and save ourselves the trek overland.
Wed be expected to work our passage! Do you
think I intend to submit to the drudgery of a deck43
hands existence?
With barely more than a dozen florins left, I dont
think weve any choice. Altor beamed at the sailor.
Were your men.
The sailor laughed and drained a last glass. Not
mine. Tis Captain Lazarus I work for. So come along
an see if yer faces fit.
He reeled out of the door leaving Caelestis and
Altor to snatch up their belongings and hurry along
behind. They caught up to him at the end of the cobbled street where he was shoving his way through the
seafront crowds. No-one seemed anxious to pick a
fight with him when they turned and saw his tough
scarred face.
Altor put out his hand as they walked. Brother Altor of Ellesland, he said. My friend is Caelestis.
The sailor looked at the proffered hand but did not
shake it. Grograms the name. My ships the Questing Beast.
Curious, said Caelestis. I assumed it might be
named the Drunken Sot.
Grogram looked at him with hooded eyes. You
want your lip bust, do yer, lad?
Caelestis returned a disdainful look. Before he could
reply, Altor moved across so that he walked between
them. Which is your ship of these two fine vessels?
he said to Grogram.
44
Apparently Grogram was not interested in pursuing his quarrel with Caelestis. He pointed to a large
whaling ship tethered to the quay and led the way
swaggering up the gangplank.
Altor fell back and grabbed Caelestiss arm. Why
are you trying to antagonize him? he hissed.
Hes not the captain, grumbled Caelestis, hes just
a sozzled sea-salt. I cant abide an underling with airs
above his station.
They stepped up onto a deck stained with the blubber of slaughtered whales. The smell was of grease and
rancid bilgewater. The captain, whose face seemed almost to have been crushed at some point so that it had
the appearance of a bruised melon, exchanged a few
words with Grogram and then walked over. He had
a limping gait and used a stick carved from narwhal
ivory.
The crew looked on darkly. Altor threw them a
broad smile that had no effect. Caelestis just stood
glowering.
The captain surveyed the two with eyes that burned
with an strange inner fire. Ah yes. Youll be ready for a
spot of whaling, I shouldnt doubt.
Almost correct, said Caelestis, except that my
friend is opposed to the senseless slaughter of animals
on religious grounds and I prefer not to get myself
drenched in gore. Therefore if you have openings for
45
executive officers or something of the sort

The captain roared with laughter. Ho, youre a
flaunty fellow! he said. Youll amuse the men with
such choice witticisms.
His crew did not look amused. On the contrary,
they remained ominously silent like wolves behind
their pack leader.
Were prepared to work in the rigging, if youll let
us learn the ropes, said Altor. We only need passage
as far as Dourhaven.
As you like it. Im Captain Lazarus. Youve met my
first mate, Mister Grogram. So, come along below
decks and Ill sign you lads up.
He pointed aft to his cabin and they followed him.
As they passed the hold, Lazarus paused and gestured
with obvious satisfaction. Down there is where we
store the flesh and bones after boiling up the fat and
salting whats edible.
Weve eaten, thanks, said Caelestis dryly.
Hope you like whale meat, said Lazarus chuckling. Theres not much else but that and ships biscuit
aboard.
He led them down to a cramped cabin that smelled
of stale pipe smoke. There he opened a vast leatherbound ledger. Sharpening a quill, he dipped it in the
inkwell on his desk and offered it to Altor.
Altor took the quill and wrote his signature in the
46
ledger. Caelestis, by force of habit, signed on under a

false name.
Lazarus blew on the page to dry the ink. Educated
men, I see. Few of those dogs working topside can
write their names. He gave a wheeze of laughter. Its
that and little else that keeps em from signing away
their souls!
Caelestis looked around the cabin. The accommodation seems... cosy, shall we say. Are the other cabins
like this?
Lazarus flung his head back. Hah! You should have
been a professional jester, my lad!
Caelestis frowned. Altor said under his breath: I
suspect our own quarters will be even more basic.
Grogram will provide you with hammocks and
find you a space below decks, said Lazarus. Now I
have a few things to attend to up on deck. Well be
casting off in one hour, so see youve got yourselves
stowed before then. As they were going out he called
after them: Oh, lad. Not you, monk, your dandified
friend... He glanced at the signatures in the ledger.
Skrymir, is it? Why dont you drop by my cabin for
supper later on? Id like to hear some more of your
jokes.
They went up on deck to find Grogram ready with
mops and a pail of water. The deck could do with a
scrub, he growled.
47
Caelestis nodded. I thought the very same thing

when we came aboard. Still, the odd patch of grime
and dried blood just adds to the general air of quaintness, doesnt it?
He turned away to talk to Altor. Grogram put a
meaty hand on Caelestiss shoulder, swivelled him
round, and thrust the pail into his hands. Dirty water sloshed over Caelestiss boots, much to his annoyance.
Be careful, you oaf! These boots cost me twentyfive florins.
Grogram leaned over to give the boots a good
look, putting his face so close to Caelestiss that the
hard stubble on his chin scratched against the youths
cheek. Its you who should be careful. They look like
dead mens boots to me.
Grogram looked straight into Caelestiss eyes. The
seaweed liquor was strong on his breath. For an instant his expression was nothing but pure, naked malice. Then he smiled, displaying his rotted teeth. See
you get it done before we sail.
With that he walked off, leaving Caelestis fuming.
I shall have words about that fellow when I dine with
Captain Lazarus tonight.
Sighing, Altor put their travelling-packs out of
sight under a hatch cover and took one of the mops.
Im not sure it was wise to accept Lazaruss invita48
tion, he said as he started swabbing the deck. He

seems a sinister fellow to me, what with all his talk of
slaughter and doomed souls.
Caelestis dabbed a couple of times at a spot of grime
and then paused to lean on his mop gazing out to sea.
He seemed hardly to have heard his friends warning. Ah, the seafaring life, Altor! What could be more
enticing? Smell that salty tang! The breeze on your
face, the cry of the gulls, the clean splash of sunlight
on grey swell... When I was a child I often thought I
might become a sailor.
Except that your career as a pickpocket and general scoundrel got in the way, muttered Altor.
Hmm?
Nothing. Move your feet, will you? Your twentyfive florin soles are planted right on a patch of whale
grease.
Caelestis found supper disappointing. Lazarus seemed
not to be a man who cared for the finer things in life,
so they had dined on steamed fish without herbs or
other garnish. This was followed by a burned bread
pudding that Caelestis left untouched.
Now the cabin boy was clearing away the plates and
Caelestis was still waiting for his single glass of wine
to be refilled. Not that he thought it a wine worth
49
quaffing, but at least it helped to make Lazaruss conversation seem less tiresome.
The captain had only one abiding interest, and
that was the hunting and killing of whales. Over the
course of the meal he had explained every gruesome
detail of the profession with such gleeful fervour that
Caelestis had begun to wonder if he was sane.
Reaching over to his desk, Lazarus picked up a
chart and unfurled it in the dim candlelight. Caelestis
gave it a cursory glance and then turned his attention
to the cheese board.
Lazarus was tracing his finger along an arc drawn
on the chart. Here he lies in the depths of the Mistral
Sea, he muttered, battening on whales and dreaming of the end of time. This line shows where you
see that, lad? Thats the track of Yellow Eye when it
sweeps through the sky. Heh, this old chart cost me a
pretty sum, I can tell you...
Caelestis had been about to take a mouthful of
cheese when he noticed a weevil snuggled inside the
cracker on which hed spread it. He put the cracker
down hastily. Im sure it did, he said, stifling a yawn.
Ah, now is that a bottle of brandy you have propping
up those books, Captain?
Books? Lazarus lurched around, reeled out of his
chair and zigzagged towards his bunk, snatching up
one of the books on his way.
50
He fell back in a sprawl on his bunk and held up

the book. How has he managed to get drunk on just
one glass of wine? wondered Caelestis thirstily.
Youve a keen eye, lad. This is the book, the very
book the one that told me where to find him.
He fixed Caelestis with an intense stare that seemed
to pass right through him and the cabin wall to survey the heaving grey waves of the boundless ocean
beyond. There was a long period of silence. Lazaruss
eyelids drooped. Possibly he was drifting off to sleep.
Caelestis noticed an untouched pickle on the captains
plate and reached for it with his fork...
Aha!
Caelestis looked up startled to see Lazarus sitting
bolt upright on his bunk. Stamped on his face was the
afterimage of a grin. Dead below the path of Yellow
Eye, I say! What do you think of that, lad?
Astrology is not my strong point, said Caelestis.
Nor mine. But whaling is, and do you know what
whaling is?
Caelestis shook his head. Its not a thing I ever
stopped to think about.
Whaling is playing poker with Death. Its staring
the Reaper right in the face and laughing, because live
or die hell only have you when hes prepared to call
your hand. The whaler goes right to the brink of the
unknown, time after time, because its only when you
51
see that vast devil square ahead of your harpoon that

you know youre at the gateway to the next world and
the thrill of life becomes a thing you can taste in your
mouth along with brine and bile and fear!
Caelestis nodded slowly. There was no doubt in his
mind now that Lazarus was a lunatic. He eased himself out of his chair, deciding that a sudden rush for
the door might provoke a dangerous reaction.
Yes, a very excellent point. Food for thought, certainly. Now, if youll excuse me, Captain...
Dont go rushing off, lad. Come and look here at
this book. Youll see what Im talking about. Lazarus let out a drunken belch. A few seconds later an
overpowering blast of brandy fumes almost knocked
Caelestis off his feet.
Caelestis edged nearer to the door. Its, er, getting
a bit late. I have to rise early or no doubt the odious
Mister Grogram will give me hell for it.
Grogram? He wouldnt understand! None of em...
all ignorant fools, the detritus of a dozen scummy ports. But theyll go to hunt that old sea-worm
whether they know it or not, and when we bring his
carcass onto our deck every man Jack of them will
thank me for leading em to glory. Glory and gold too,
aye, for well all be rich when weve done this deed!
Caelestis had his hand on the door-latch, but curiosity held him back. Sea-worm? That didnt sound
52
right. Nautical slang for a whale? Doubtful. Caelestis

knew very little about whales, but he did not believe
them to be especially worm-like in appearance.
Despite himself, he had to know. A moment later
he was to wish hed never asked.
What exactly are we hunting, Captain? A particularly large whale, is it?
Havent you heard anything I said? growled Lazarus. Its no mere whale Im after, but Jormungand
the World Serpent the great snake that encircles
the earth!
53
Chapter 5
The World
Serpent
aelestis returned to his berth on the lower

decks in a glum mood. Not only had he discovered the ship to be commanded by a dangerous madman, but he now had indigestion into the
bargain. All in all, he was beginning to wish he had
stayed a street-thief and never allowed himself to get
mixed up with Altor and his quest for the Sword of
Life.
Altor was still awake. He looked across from his
hammock as Caelestis wearily undressed by the light
of a single taper. Well?
Caelestis tugged off his boots, examined them despondently, and stowed them neatly beside his travelling-pack. Well what?
54
How was your meal?

Both worse and better than I expected. The quality
of the food was harrowingly poor, but there was much
less of it than there might have been which, it being
bad, was good.
Its too late at night to get my head around that,
said Altor after a moments thought. Tell me in the
morning.
If there is a morning, said Caelestis. Or rather, if
we live to see it.
Youre exaggerating again. Im sure the food wasnt
so bad that itll kill you. Incidentally, theres a slop
bucket aft if you feel the need to throw up. Dont use
the freshwater bucket or Grogram and the others
might become aggrieved.
Hah, youre in a cheerful mood, said Caelestis
bitterly. The World Serpent will find youre a sweet
mouthful to chew on.
Dont even speak of such things at sea! Altor said
in only half-feigned alarm. You could bring bad luck
on the vessel.
The vessel already has more than its share of bad
luck to whit, a first mate who is an uncouth ginsozzled sadist and a captain who is dangerously unhinged. If you can see any way for things to get worse
then by all means let me in on it.
Stow that chatter! snarled a gruff voice from across
55
the way. Some of us want to sleep!

Altor dropped his voice. So you werent too impressed by Captain Lazarus.
Caelestis extinguished the taper and swung up
into his hammock. Oh, I was impressed all right.
He showed an impressive ability to get drunk on one
small glass of liquor, though that wasnt the best of it.
What really impressed me was his project to get us all
killed by going after the World Serpent.
There was an instant while this sank in. Suddenly
Altor sat bolt upright in shock only to overbalance,
spin around in his hammock, and fall with a thump
to the deck.
Be quiet, I said! hissed the sailor who had spoken
before.
Are you all right? enquired Caelestis.
Fine... Altor felt around in the darkness for the
taper. He got it lit and stood up beside Caelestiss
hammock. Whats this business about the World
Serpent?
Only what I said. Lazarus plans to hunt it down,
entice it to the surface and kill it.
Kill it? What with?
Caelestis made an impatient hissing noise between
his teeth. Why ask me? It isnt my plan. Presumably
Lazarus, being as crazy as a loon, hasnt thought to
worry about that yet.
56
This isnt good, Caelestis.

Believe me, I couldnt agree more.
Do the crew know?
Apparently Lazarus thinks they wouldnt understand. The worrying thing is that he thought I
would.
Sailors are a superstitious lot. If they find out
therell be a mutiny...
Altor frowned and looked around. Snores came
from a dozen sleeping forms, slung in their hammocks like fat larvae. Across the way, the sailor whom
theyd woken up seemed to be fast asleep again.
Wed better keep it to ourselves, then, whispered
Caelestis. But never mind about the crew. What happens if we really do run across the World Serpent?
What we really have to worry about is the effect
thisll have if it gets out. Surely there isnt any chance
of Lazarus actually finding the World Serpent. Altor
frowned thoughtfully. Is there?
The sun rose pallid and watery in a cold white haze.
By that time Altor and Caelestis had already been up
for over an hour plaiting rope for the harpoon spears.
Caelestis sat huddled miserably inside his scuffed and
grubby cloak, teeth chattering. Altor worked as ever
with brimming good health.
57
Lazarus emerged from his cabin. Spying Caelestis,

he cast a broad grin across the deck and swept off to
find Grogram.
Caelestis scowled down at his hands where the
coarse rope had scratched them raw. The madman!
he said bitterly. Hes hell-bent on the most irresponsible scheme since ships first put to sea without oars,
and all he can do is gad about with a halfwitted smile
on his face.
Altor shrugged. Looking up at the fluttering sails,
he said, The winds freshening. We might be in for a
storm.
Trim that canvas, you lubbers! Lazarus suddenly
bellowed at the top of his lungs. Mister Grogram, get
em moving or well be looking at the sea from four
fathoms down!
I think youre right, remarked Caelestis to Altor.
At any rate, the captain seems agitated.
Grogram came stamping across the deck. You look
a likely lad, he said to Caelestis. Get aloft an trim the
main topsail.
Caelestis looked at the sails, which were now straining against a strong wind. The ship surged through
high grey waves, casting foam high around her bows.
Why not ask the captain to do it? he retorted. Hes
the one with a reckless disregard for life and limb. For
myself, I prefer to remain where I am.
58
Grogram went to cuff him. Caelestis ducked, sprang

back and reached for the knife in his boot.
Altor stood between them. Mister Grogram, neither Caelestis nor I have any experience in the rigging, as you know. Wouldnt it be better to get someone else?
Grogram rubbed his unshaven jaw, the stubble
making a sound like sandpaper. Domar! Bildad! he
roared at two sailors nearby. Get up in that rigging
sharpish fore I put nine stripes each across yer worthless hides!
The two men dutifully clambered up to trim the
sail. Grogram continued to glower at Caelestis and
Altor. Then the gleam of a thought appeared in his
dull bloodshot eyes. Whats that talk o recklessness?
he growled. Our captain, you say?
He didnt mean anything by it, said Altor hastily.
Thats right, said Caelestis. Why, Lazarus dines
on boiled fish with neither salt nor seasoning. How
could such a man be deemed reckless?
Grograms small eyes narrowed until they almost
disappeared in the huge purple-veined folds of his
cheeks. You pokin fun at me, lad? Cause if you
are
He stopped because Caelestis, instead of coming
out with a haughty riposte as he normally would, had
fallen silent. He was looking quite sorry for himself
59
and his face was grey. In fact it had gone beyond grey.
It was almost green.
Grogram started to laugh. I can see you havent
got yer sea legs yet, he crowed. What about a spot
o breakfast to settle yer stomach? A rasher o greasy
bacon and a spoonful of scrambled eggs...?
Caelestis clapped a hand to his mouth, scuttled
across the swaying deck and leaned over the rail. It
was just in time. With woe-begone detachment he
watched his meal of the night before gush down into
the heaving sea.
Grogram strode off laughing.
Altor came over and put a hand on his friends
shoulder. Feeling better?
Caelestis sighed and wiped his mouth with his lace
handkerchief. Rather than put the soiled handkerchief
back in his pocket, he held it out between finger and
thumb and dropped it into the sea. If I died right now
I would feel better. Believe me, if the World Serpent
rose up and swallowed me at this instant it would be
a blessing.
Altor frowned and crossed himself. I told you its
not wise to say such things.
Why? I thought you didnt believe in it.
I didnt say that. Best not to tempt fate, all the
same.
Whats tempting fate? said a squeaky voice over60
head. They both looked up to see the cabin boy, Kenoi, hanging like a monkey from the rigging.
Nothing, said Altor.
Be off about your chores, said Caelestis.
Youve been sick, said Kenoi, in the same sort of
tone he might have used if accusing Caelestis of cowardice.
Yes. Now push off or Ill throw you overboard.
Yeah? You couldnt catch me, you lubber. Kenoi
thumbed his nose. Before Caelestis could grab him,
he swung up out of reach. They watched him rise
nimbly through the rigging until he was just a speck
against the grey sky.
You do have a knack of antagonizing people,
Caelestis, said Altor.
Aha! Not feeling too well I see! Lazarus came
swaggering over and clapped Caelestis on the back.
Weakened as he was by nausea, Caelestis had to
hold onto the rail to keep his legs from buckling under him. A bit queasy, he admitted.
Youll soon get used to it. Why, I was forever
chucking my guts up when I came aboard my first
ship. Couldnt keep a solid morsel down for weeks.
Then we hit a storm, and after it had cleared up I was
fine.
Ill look forward to that storm, then, said Caelestis
with heavy irony.
61
Youll not have long to wait, I think. Lazarus beckoned his pilot over. Bildad, can you sight our way?
The portly sailor gazed up at the sky, now slate grey,
and shook his head. Not through those storm clouds,
Captain. I could not catch the beady gaze of old Yellow Eye himself.
Lazarus waved him away. Putting his arm around
Caelestiss shoulders, he drew him to one side and
spoke in a conspiratorial whisper. Its apt that Bildad
should speak of Yellow Eye, for in truth were not far
off the path it takes through the sky each night. You
know what that means, Caelestis. Soon the World
Serpent will show his head. Then a dozen harpoons
and a dozen times a dozen will strike him. Lazarus
flung his arms up and smacked his fist into his palm
to emphasize the point. And then he will be dead and
we will be accounted such heroes that the streets of
Port Quag will be paved with gold for us!
Caelestis mustered a queasy smile and nodded. Lazarus, grinning broadly, had his attention caught by a
sailor across the deck and wandered off.
The pilot, Bildad, had been loitering nearby. As
the cabin boy climbed down from the rigging the two
exchanged a few words and Bildad looked across to
where Caelestis and Altor stood. He shook his head,
started to walk away, then looked again. There was
a long pause as he seemed to mull something over.
62
Reaching a decision, he turned and strode up to the

rail.
You are quite friendly with the captain, he began.
He is friendly with me, said Caelestis, which is
not necessarily the same thing.
Bildad tried a change of tack. What was it you
were talking about? The weather, perhaps? No, no,
hardly that. Its a good strong wind, but no cause for
real alarm now the sails are trimmed.
My opinion exactly. Now, excuse me...
Bildad caught Caelestiss sleeve. Surely it must
have been quite a momentous matter for the captain
to take you into his confidence but not to share it with
his own loyal crew?
You must take that up with him.
But Im taking it up with you.
Caelestis noticed that some of the other sailors, noticing this conversation, had come over. The cabin boy
said something to one of them and the man scowled
darkly. The word serpent circulated in a awed undertone.
Altor decided to step in. Whats the matter with
everyone? he announced in a firm voice. Are we going to let a stiff wind get us spooked?
But Bildad refused to be distracted. They were
talking about the World Serpent, he said accusingly.
Caelestis tugged his sleeve out of the mans grip. I
63
will just say this much, and then the matter is closed:
the captain asked me what I thought of renaming the
vessel the World Serpent. I said that the Questing
Beast had a more pleasing ring to it. That is all.
By now a dozen weather-beaten faces were staring
at him. None of them looked remotely convinced by
Caelestiss story.
At that moment Lazarus, who was up on the poop
deck, happened to notice the gathering of men below.
He descended to the quarterdeck and came bustling
over. Whats going on here? he demanded. Get back
to your stations, the lot of you.
Bildad could not help cringing at the stern tone of
command, but with weight of numbers on his side he
refused to be cowed. Kenoi says it aint whales were
hunting on this trip...
What would Kenoi know? But hang it, men, its
high time you all were told the glad news. Its Jormungand the World Serpent Im aiming to catch. What
do you make of that, eh?
There was stunned silence at this confirmation
of the rumour. Then Bildad raised his voice, saying,
Then its true! Grab him, lads!
Lazarus was astonished to be seized abruptly by
two burly harpooners. This is mutiny! he cried. Unhand your captain, you bilge rats! Mister Grogram!
Bildad cast a glance along the deck to the
64
companionway, where another sailor stood beside a

bolted hatch. The man gave him a thumbs up.
Grograms stowed safely below decks for the time
being, said Bildad. Theres no need for him to get
mixed up in this.
Blustering wildly, Lazarus was by now so furious
that he could hardly speak a coherent sentence. The
sailors were in no mood to listen to his protests in
any case. Hes madder than a fiend from the Pit, said
Bildad. Stuff him in the jolly boat and well get shot
of him.
Its for the best, said Caelestis to Altor as they
watched the harpooners thrust Lazarus into the ships
small rowboat. What if his insane scheme had succeeded? It would have been the doom of us all.
Wait a bit! cried Bildad, who had taken charge.
You two can go for good measure, since you were
doubtless privy to the capns plans.
Nonsense! snorted Altor. We wanted nothing to
do with it.
Bildad gave a signal and the sailors spread out to
surround them. Well have to go quietly, muttered
Caelestis.
Altor put his hand on his sword-hilt, but he could
see it was useless to protest. Bildad and the others
were set against them. There were too many to fight.
Caelestis and Altor were taken to join Lazarus in the
65
jolly boat, which was swiftly lowered into the water.

Bildad and the others leered down from the rail.
Begone, you lubbers, and take the madman with
you.
Altor reached for the oars. Caelestis laid a hand on
his shoulder. Wait. Can you hear something...?
They looked around. The metallic grey expanse of
the ocean had fallen flat as a mirror, but now it began
to seethe and boil. From far below came a deep resonance, building like the muffled beat of an enormous
heart...
A huge slab of flesh broke the surface, slamming
into the Questing Beast. The ship lurched, sending
the crew flying across the deck.
A snake-like coil rose up, slithering out of the
depths until it towered over the mainmast in a colossal arch that blotted out the sky. Beneath them in the
water they saw an eye a dark limpid orb bigger than
a boat. It blinked once, and then the whole monstrous
bulk of the World Serpents head rose into view. Its
mouth gaped, spewing out a torrent of foul water.
Amongst the fangs were lodged the bodies of dead
whales morsels of chewed blubber caught unnoticed
in a maw larger than a citadel keep.
With a roar like the hurricane at the dawn of time,
Jormungand the World Serpent breathed the air of
the surface world once more.
66
Chapter 6
Dourhaven
aelestis and Altor clutched the sides of the

boat for dear life. There was nothing they
could do. They were beyond even fear. The
sight of the giant beast had left them stunned with
awe.
Lazarus crouched in the bows with a look on his
face that was midway between triumph and stark terror. The moment that he had dreamed of so long was
upon him. Now that it had come, he was left petrified.
The sheer size of the creature hed hunted was beyond
the grasp of his imagination.
Each intake of the World Serpents breath howled
across the waves, catching the sails of the helpless ship.
Inexorably the Questing Beast was sucked closer.
Scaly coils hung suspended against the heavens for
an instant and then crashed down, breaking the ship
apart. The jolly boat, caught by the World Serpents
67
wake, swirled helplessly and capsized.

Those huge jaws snapped shut, trapping a dozen
shrieking men that to the World Serpent were less
than fleas. Among them, Bildad drew his last breath
to scream, but had no time before the massive teeth
ground him to a pulp.
Then, as suddenly as it had surfaced, the World
Serpent sank beneath the waves, leaving behind a few
flailing bodies and splintered driftwood that once had
been the proud whaling ship Questing Beast.
Caelestiss head bobbed up and he blinked the icy
water out of his eyes. The jolly boats overturned hull
was visible as a turtle-like hump swaying on the swell
not far off. As he swam towards it the boat righted
itself and a bedraggled figure climbed back aboard.
Caelestis hauled himself over the side and came face
to face with Captain Lazarus.
Lazarus wore a look of halfwitted zeal. Im hereby taking command of this vessel, which I name the
Dauntless, he said.
Shut up, you lunatic. Caelestis turned and scanned
the sea. Nearby floated a body, face down. The water
beside it was stained red.
Caelestis jumped back in, swam across, and turned
the figure over. It was Altor. A broken spar had gashed
his head. Struggling to support his friends weight,
Caelestis returned to the boat and managed with
68
Lazaruss help to get him aboard.

Good thinking, said Lazarus. Well need every
man when the World Serpent resurfaces.
This time Caelestis ignored him. Bending over the
oars, he began to row. Behind him in the bows, Lazarus fell silent.
The sun slid unseen across a sky filled with dark
clouds. Caelestis had lost any sense of direction.
There was no way of telling where the coast lay. He
continued to work the oars even though he had no
idea where he was going. Fatigue racked his arms and
there was a blazing knot of pain between his shoulder
blades but he kept going. His only thought was for his
friend lying unconscious and bleeding in the bottom
of the boat.
After a time he remembered Lazarus. The madman had been quiet for hours. Caelestis turned to find
the bows empty.
Rather than accept the loss of his ship and his
dream, Lazarus had chosen to slip without a word
into the secretive depths of the sea.
Altor was floating.
He opened his eyes. Eternal space stretched away
from him in all directions. There was no depth, no
colour, no form in the void. There was no sound.
69
How long had he been here? Time meant nothing.

Memories roared and swirled away in the recesses of
his mind like the surge of a distant sea.
He remembered the serpent. As he thought of it,
an image of scale-armoured coils flared briefly against
the nothingness only to break apart and fade.
Taunting laughter echoed all around, gradually filling the emptiness with a sense of time and staggering
immensity.
A mighty sword now took substance a giant blade
spanning the cosmos, starbursts crackling along its
edge, worlds dying in the dark jewel at its hilt.
Five faces next appeared: majestic lords, huge and
mighty, their presence overwhelming his senses. Light
radiated from them. Each shone with a single colour
indeed, with so agonizing an absolute of that colour
that Altors vision stung and swam. But he could not
look away.
On one side he beheld a lord in scarlet, on another
a lord in cerulean blue. A third was clad in emerald,
another in gold. And the last of the dread company
was wrapped in scintillant white.
The red figure spoke first. In the place where mortal
voices, though those of strong lords, called the shapers of mens fates, that place was called in the mortal
tongue, Spyte.
The walls of Spyte towered high, continued the
70
blue lord, for it was not yet at the time that feuds
should crack the keystones, nor at that time had ravening flame tasted the ramparts.
This long endured, said the lord in green. Those
who could speak of the first days of the world revealed
their lore to mortal ears. Mortal words, though those
of lords most wise, were counted from shore to shore
as inviolable commands.
It was the turn of the golden lord: The brutish thing
that lives in the darkness of the belly then stirred, the
cursed creature that drives oath-brother to war with
oath-brother, that hellish hate that eats from within.
From three score who once ruled, now only five
await the day that is to come, pronounced the white
lord. The images began to grow dim, the voices receded. From this pernicious place we shall go, escaping the foul fastness of the void, and return into the
living land. And no thing that dwells on earth shall
oppose us.
Altor was aware of an oppressive weight pressing
down on him. As the five lords faded, he struggled
to move his torpid limbs. His arm, heavy as lead, rose
and reached for the blazing Sword of Life...
You want to get that blanket off or hell suffocate.
Altor sat bolt upright. He was in bed. A maid with
apple-red cheeks was rearranging the blankets around
him. Realizing he was naked, Altor seized the sheets
71
and held them around him as if his life depended on

it.
Seeing him awake, the maid stepped back in surprise. Then her face broke into a grin and she looked
down at him with hands on hips. Your friends woken
up, she said with amusement and all ready to protect his modesty as if it were such a precious treasure!
There was someone standing behind her, outlined
against the sunlight streaming through the dusty
window panes. As he stepped forward Altor gave a
whoop of delight and leapt out of bed. Caelestis!
Caelestis fended off the big youths embrace with a
smile. Please! I am not in the habit of accepting hugs
from naked men. Or any men if it comes to that. Also,
you are in danger of losing your... er, kilt.
Blushing, Altor clasped the sheet around his waist.
I thought the True Magi had got you.
The Magi? It was the World Serpent that nearly
finished us off.
The maid tittered as she primped up the pillows.
The Magi, the World Serpent... she said over her
shoulder as she went out. What dizzy-headed girls
you must think us in Dourhaven, to be taken in by
such talk.
They waited until she had closed the door behind
her. Now, whats this about the Magi? demanded
72
Caelestis.
Altor smoothed back his hair, wincing as he touched
the bandage on his cut forehead. It was just a dream.
I think. How did we get here? Suddenly he stared
around in panic. Cael the pommel stone!
Caelestis nodded towards the table in the bay window. The stone lay on the dark waxed wood, its facets
transforming the sunbeams into a fractured rainbow.
Relax, it was still in your pocket when I fished you
out.
Altor was doubly relieved to notice his sword
propped against the side of the bed. And Lazarus?
He decided to go down with his ship. A serious
look clouded Caelestiss face, but then he gave a shrug.
Lets face it, he wasnt a reasonable man. Anyway, we
drifted in the jolly boat for a few hours and just as
the sun was setting a merchant ship appeared on the
horizon. A long overdue stroke of good luck, I call it.
The captain took us aboard and was kind enough to
bring us here to Dourhaven.
Looking around for something to put on, Altor saw
that new clothes had been laid out beside the bed:
boots of blue leather with large silver buckles, grey
leggings, and a suede jerkin quilted for extra warmth.
They were rather finer than anything he would have
chosen for himself, and the amethyst-studded crucifix
that lay beside them was ostentatious to the point of
73
bad taste. He glanced back at Caelestis and for the

first time took note of the lavish costume that had
replaced his old travel worn clothes.
Caelestis vainly brushed a speck of dust from the
rich black velvet of his new coat. There was a long
period of silence while Altor stared at his friend and
Caelestis pretended not to notice.
Where did the money come from for all this? said
Altor at last.
Ah. Caelestis puffed out his cheeks, glanced out
of the window, dabbed at an imaginary mark on the
window. Um... Well theres a lot to tell you, in all
honesty
In all honesty. Altor gave a short laugh. Theres
a phrase that doesnt sit well on your lips. Have you
been up to your old tricks, Caelestis?
Thievery, you mean? Caelestis took two steps back
in a theatrical display of outrage. Do you suppose Id
go out slitting purses while you lay ill in your bed? Not
a bit of it. Ive been here by your side night and day
for all this last week. When would I get the chance
for thievery?
Altor nodded, stung to shame by his friends devotion. Of course. Sorry.
He could hardly ask now where Caelestis had got
the money for the clothes. Perhaps a loan from the
merchant captain whod rescued them? Well, it could
74
wait until later. He got dressed.

Altors legs felt quite weak, as Caelestis must have
seen by the way he propped himself against the table
while buttoning his jerkin. Are you sure you should
be getting up?
Exercise is the best thing for a speedy recovery.
Altor strapped on his sword. A walk along the seafront will do me the power of good.
They went downstairs. Here a few sailors sat with
lunchtime drinks beside a crackling fire. Sunbeams
reached like melting icicles from the tiny window
panes. A gross tabby cat lay stretched at the bottom of
the stairs and showed no intention of moving. Stepping over it, Caelestis tried to guide Altor swiftly to
the door, but the landlord of the inn spotted them
from behind his serving hatch.
Sir Caelestis! he cried, rubbing his hands on his
apron as he came around from the back. Griselda told
me the glad news. So the duke is feeling better?
The duke? said Altor. What duke?
The three looked at each other.
A memory lapse, Caelestis blurted out. Because of
the blow to the head.
What are you blathering about, Caelestis? demanded Altor.
The landlords smile was fading fast. But he remembers your name...
75
Indeed, that is precisely why the case is so puzzling. We are going to the doctor now. Do not fret, he
will soon be cured.
Before the landlord could say any more, Caelestis
had bustled Altor outside into the street.
The cobblestones were dusted with snow and a raw
wind blew down from the north. After the near-stifling heat of the inn, Altor felt numbed. Bewildered,
he allowed Caelestis to lead him through the busy
streets. Something didnt seem quite right but maybe that was just the after-effects of his fever.
He stopped and looked back down the street. The
landlord stood now outside the inn, staring after them
with a worried look.
Caelestis took him by the arm and pulled him
down a narrow side street. This is a short cut to the
harbour.
Why are we going there? Id sooner have a stroll up
the coast a way.
We need to book passage to Port Lukvess, said
Caelestis, still tugging his friend along by the sleeve.
Port Lukvess? But were going to Wyrd across the
pack ice.
Ah, precisely! said Caelestis in a familiar tone
which Altor recognized as meaning he had just that
moment thought of it. And the route from Lukvess is
far more convenient.
76
They emerged from the alley onto another bustling

street. Altor planted his feet firmly, jerking Caelestis
to a halt. You may think my brain is still addled from
fever, Caelestis, but this fresh air has cleaned away
the cobwebs. I can see very well that youre up to no
good.
As God is my witness I swear I have committed no
act of theft while weve been in Dourhaven. Caelestis
looked him squarely in the eye, the very picture of
honesty. Now, can we please get to the harbour?
In a bit.
Nearby, nestling under the eaves of a warehouse,
was a puppet booth. Attracted by the little cardboard
figures and high fluting voices in which the puppets
seemed to speak, Altor strolled over. What is the
play? he asked one of the audience cheerfully.
The man turned and scrutinized him. I see from
your accent that you are a foreigner or an infidel
fiend as we call them in Dourhaven. No offence.
None taken. Altor folded his arms, taking no notice of Caelestiss obvious agitation.
A puppet clothed in tattered strips of paper emerged
onto the tiny stage. This is one of the distinctive
kokrexi, or Paper World displays, of eastern Krarth,
explained the man. See how the little figures are so
skilfully made to seem like great wizards and noble
knights from myth. Delightful!
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Caelestis cast a quick glance at the booth. It puts

me in mind of the sort of thing a mildly imaginative
child might devise given very limited resources.
The man frowned sidelong at him. The essence of
the kokrexi is the distillation of traditional themes using formalized characters and situations. Such is the
basis of all great art.
If I understood what you just said Id happily comment, said Caelestis. Now, Altor, shouldnt we be going?
Altor stubbornly continued to watch the puppet
show. Whats the story behind this particular performance?
Actually, I dont know. It might be pure whimsy,
said the man with a shake of his head. A pity. If you
saw one of the commonly approved plays you couldnt
fail to appreciate its subtle qualities.
The play had begun by depicting a flooded world,
an effect which the puppeteer accomplished by letting out streamers of blue and green silk to dance in
the breeze in front of the booth. The people moved
to and fro under the water like fish. Next the Saviour
descended from heaven on a flying cross and caused
the waters to recede. The streamers were slowly pulled
back into the interior of the booth in a way that really
did evoke the draining of a flood. It was simple but
very effective, and the onlookers applauded politely.
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Caelestis paced up and down impatiently. Can we

go now?
Altor had started watching the puppet show just
to teach Caelestis a lesson, but now he was getting
genuinely interested. This play features the Saviour
of the True Faith, he said. Dont you think thats a
remarkable thing in a heathen land like Krarth? It is
surely a sign.
Caelestis flung up his hands. A sign? It is a sideshow for children! He was about to say more, but the
crowd of people watching the play turned and glared
at him.
On the tiny stage, the world was no longer submerged but there was still water falling from the sky
in torrents. When the Saviour saw this state of affairs he flew up and placed a bung in the clouds to
keep the world from flooding again. Thin silk ribbons
hung behind the stage, showing that barely a trickle
now escaped into the world seasonal showers that
the Saviour in his wisdom had allowed for.
After the Saviour had returned to heaven, five noblemen appeared in the void above the sky. Each puppet was cut from different coloured card to show the
noblemens bright cloaks.
Altor furrowed his brow. It seemed to remind him
of something. A dream. But, like many dreams, the
details were vague.
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The five coloured puppets stooped over the bung.

Apparently they intended to drown the world once
more, but for all their efforts they could not move it.
They attached a cord to the bung and lowered it. Next
they called with whistling cries to earthly agents who
appeared at the bottom of the stage and began to tug
at the cord. The crowd gave gasps of horror as the
bung began to move.
At this point a lacquered mannikin representing
the folk hero of the play made his entrance, putting
the agents to flight. He was a wandering minstrel
who, according to the words the puppeteer put into
his mouth, was seeking a fabled sword with which he
could put paid to the five evil noblemen. The minstrel
swept back and forth across the stage, but each time
he was on the point of finding the sword, the audience warned him with loud cries that the agents were
about to pull out the bung. Invariably he rushed back
to the cord in time to prevent this, but while he did so
an agent would hide the sword again.
Eventually one of the noblemen in the sky, the
blue-cloaked one, sent two men garbed like wolves
down to the world. They fell upon the minstrel and
killed him while he slept.
Altor and Caelestis were both rooted to the spot
with keen interest by now, but though they waited
there was no more. The crowd began to disperse,
80
some dropping coins into a tray in front of the booth.

Seemingly the show was over.
Altor turned to Caelestis. Its the story of the harpist. The one who gave me the pommel stone. It must
be.
Caelestis cast a quick nervous glance over his shoulder. Wed better talk to the puppeteer. But hurry...
The puppeteer had now emerged from the booth.
She was an old woman who greeted them with a
slightly bemused smile.
Altor hesitated, uncertain what to say. Er... that
puppet show. It was very interesting.
Caelestis stepped in impatiently. We were reminded of a legend we once heard.
The old woman nodded as she laid the tiny mannikins carefully in their box. Its a story I picked up
somewhere in my travels about Krarth.
And is that all? said Altor. Or is there more?
Maybe therell be more to it. Come and see the
next show at dusk.
She folded the booth into a haversack almost as big
as she was. Altor helped her get it onto her back and
watched her hobble away down the street. A curious
old lady... he remarked thoughtfully.
Caelestis was more interested in a commotion from
the other end of the street. Four heavily-armed militia men were approaching with determined strides,
81
led by the landlord of the inn. Caelestis tugged at his

friends sleeve. It really is time we were going.
He took a step towards the other end of the street,
but two other militia men happened at that moment
to turn the corner.
Altor looked from one group to the other, then
glared at Caelestis. What is this?
The militia men quickened their pace. The crowd
parted in alarm as they drew their swords. Stop right
there! bellowed the sergeant in charge. Youre under
arrest.
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Chapter 7
Augustus of
Vantery
ltor glared furiously at his friend. You said

youd done no thieving!
Not while in Dourhaven, I said. Regrettably the captain of the vessel that picked us up must
have noticed the money I, um, borrowed off him.
There was a militia patrol on either side of them. Six
swords bristled in the icy air. You going to come quietly? said the sergeant, as if he hoped they wouldnt.
Sir Caelestis and the Duke of Cornumbria, indeed! scoffed the landlord. I suspect you are no more
than two common wastrels.
Caelestis caught Altors eye and shrugged. A little
white lie, thats all, just to make sure we got the best
possible service.
83
Save your excuses till later. If there is a later.

Caelestis nodded. He pretended to adjust his cloakclasp while his eyes darted around in search of an escape route. Nearby was the mouth of a narrow alley
which might or might not lead to the seafront. Now,
he said.
Altors sword leapt from its scabbard with a meanacing razor-edged chime. He stuck his head forward
and gave a deep growl. The first reaction of the militia
men was to take a step backwards. Hey! cried the
sergeant nervously.
Caelestis moved close to the landlord, caught the
back of his belt in a twisting grip, and sent him spinning off-balance towards the nearest militia man. The
two collided and went sprawling.
The other men fell into fighting stance. Ignoring
them, Caelestis and Altor dived off down the alley.
The sergeant stared in confusion for a second, then
lunged in pursuit with a cry of Get them!
All six militia men stepped forward at once, only to
trip over one another in the entrance to the alleyway.
Caelestis looked back with a grin as he ran. Theyll
never catch us now, he said.
Im afraid they will, said Altor.
Across a heap of refuse just in front of them rose a
sheer wall without doors or windows. It was a dead
end.
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They turned. The militia men had picked themselves up and were charging along the alley towards
them. Caelestis gave a grim sigh and drew his sword.
At least this is a good place to make a stand. Its too
narrow for them all to come at us at once.
Altor shook his head. We cant draw swords against
the militia. Theyre just doing their job.
All very well for you to say! Do you know what
they do to thieves in Dourhaven?
No.
Neither do I, and Id rather not find out.
Fortunately you wont have to, my friends, announced a tall man in violet ermine-trimmed robes
who stepped out of the shadows close by. Caelestis
was so startled that he almost ran the man through
with his sword as he turned.
Greetings. I am Augustus, a wizard of Vantery.
The stranger put up one hand and gently moved
Caelestiss sword-tip away from his face.
The first militia man came rushing up. Altor
slammed his left fist into the mans stomach and followed that up with a solid right hook. The man sank
to the ground without a fuss.
Im afraid we dont have much time to chat right
now, said Caelestis, turning in time to put his sword
against the militia sergeants throat. The sergeant
skidded to a halt, panting, and glowered at him.
85
The man Altor had felled gave a groan and started

to grope his way to the wall. Please go away, Altor
said politely. We really dont want to have to hurt
you.
My friends just speaking for himself, said Caelestis, putting a quite convincing tone of relish into his
voice as he stared back at the sergeant along the length
of the sword. Myself, I dont care who I hurt.
You havent got a chance! sneered the sergeant.
Half the guards in Dourhaven will be here in a couple of minutes. The two of youll be strung up on the
harbour wall for the crabs to feed on.
Well, said Altor, you wanted to know what they
do with thieves. And theres your answer.
Caelestis nodded queasily. He had enjoyed several
crab suppers over the last few days and didnt like to
think what those crabs might have fed on.
Behind them, Augustus gave a discreet cough.
Caelestis glanced over his shoulder to see that he had
unrolled a carpet beside the heap of rubbish at the
end of the alley.
What are you selling? said Caelestis. Because
whatever it is, we dont have time to buy it.
Selling? Augustus winced. My dear young sir, I
am no tradesman. Did I not mention that I am a wizard of some accomplishment? Still, there will be time
for full introductions later. Please step onto the rug.
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Rug? said Altor, looking back to see if he could

believe his ears.
The militia man in front of him saw his chance.
He dived forward and tackled Altor around the legs,
toppling him back across the carpet. Altor lashed out
with a hammering punch to the top of his assailants
head, but the angle was awkward and he could not
loosen the mans grip.
Now then! cried Caelestis in alarm. Stay back or
Ill run the sergeant through!
The sergeant only gave a dour laugh. This posturing popinjays all talk, lads. Get him!
They came forward in a rush. Caelestis backed
away hastily, sweeping his sword to and fro in an attempt to keep them at bay.
He almost tripped over Altor, who was still wrestling with the militia man who had tackled him. Augustus smiled brightly. All aboard, then? Surge et subvole, o stragulum!
The edges of the carpet fluttered as if in a sudden
breeze. A moment later it shot vertically up into the
air.
Caelestis, taken unawares, fell to his knees beside
Altor and the militia man. Seeing an opening, he
rammed the pommel of his sword against the mans
jaw. Dazed, the man let go of Altor and slid off the
carpet. They watched him plunge to a soft if mucky
87
landing in the pile of refuse directly below.

The sergeant and his men shrank away, quickly
becoming tiny mannikins smaller than the puppets
in the Paper World show. Caelestis laughed as they
shook their fists, their angry cries only half-heard
snatches on the wind.
As the carpet swept out over the harbour, Altor got
uneasily to his feet. He was not fond of heights. After
one quick glance at the small ships cutting white furrows across the grey expanse of the sea, he turned to
Augustus. It seems we must thank you.
Dont be so grudging, Altor! cried Caelestis. He
was in high spirits, thrilled by their narrow escape from
the militia as well as the excitement of the flight.
Augustus did not look round. He faced out to sea
with one hand held in front of him in a dramatic wizardly gesture. The other hand gripped a white amulet
at his throat as he spoke words of command to the
carpet.
They had risen to a thousand metres and the fishing
boats surrounding the harbour were just tiny specks.
The wind was bitingly cold, but Altor and Caelestis
were too astonished by their sudden rescue to notice
it. The only question was: who was Augustus, and
why had he rescued them?
The journey to Wyrd would have taken days, he
said. Now youll reach your destination in a matter of
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hours.
Thats all very well, and were grateful, said Altor.
But I think you still owe us an explanation.
Velocitas! shouted Augustus exultantly. The carpet
picked up speed, the wind whipping his robes out behind him. Altor and Caelestis had to crouch down to
keep from being swept off.
A white blaze of light appeared along the horizon
to the north the reflection from the pack ice covering the Rymchaeld Sea. Looking back to the west,
they could barely make out the thin grey line of the
coast. Now they could see huge icebergs dotting the
sea below.
Altor opened his mouth to speak again, but Augustus shook his head. Save your questions for later, he
roared over the shriek of the wind. Once we are at my
sanctum I will explain everything.
He touched the white amulet and said, Domum
versus! The carpet veered sharply to the east.
Caelestis frowned. I thought we were bound for
Wyrd?
He had to repeat the question before Augustus
deigned to reply. Please be quiet, he said sharply. If
you keep pestering me then I may lose control of the
carpet!
His angry response took them aback. Before he had
been doing his best to be charming, but now a sav89
age smile played about his thin lips. Staring fervently

into the distance, he said, If you must know, there are
some supplies that I need to collect from my sanctum.
Then I will take you to Wyrd.
Altor and Caelestis looked at each other and nodded, then edged along the carpet towards Augustus.
Altor drew his sword. Wed prefer if you stopped the
carpet right now and discussed this, he said.
Augustus whirled, eyes flashing. He raised his arms
threateningly as they moved closer. You would be
foolish to oppose me, under the circumstances. Suppose I refuse to do as you say. Will you kill me? You
would hang here under the roof of heaven until the
cold turned you to blocks of ice!
They hesitated. They knew he was right and, seeing
this, Augustus laughed at them. The carpet lurched
as if by his whim. Altor and Caelestis had to drop
to their knees and grab hold to save themselves from
falling off.
Augustus turned his back on them disdainfully.
Time passed and they watched the frozen seascape
rush past far below. At last, hearing Augustus mutter
something under his breath, they looked ahead to see
a massive rime-encrusted pinnacle of rock which projected up from the fused blocks of pack ice. Atop the
pinnacle, its white spires dazzling in the thin sunlight,
stood a castle.
90
The carpet began to spiral down. As they got nearer, the brilliant reflection from the castle walls grew
until it was almost blinding.
So, enough of this foolery, said Augustus. The
time has come for me to explain matters to you. I
serve Magus Uru
Magus Uru? said Caelestis. But he was killed
weeks ago in Kalugens Keep. We saw him crushed by
the frost giant, Skrymir.
Not that upstart! I mean the True Magus Uru, who
has attained godhead as the comet White Light. That
jewelled pommel stone you bear is rightfully his, and
now you must give it to me. If you refuse...
He glanced significantly over the side of the carpet.
It was a long way down.
91
Chapter 8
On the
Ice
orget it, said Altor.

Augustus smiled thinly. He let the hand he
had extended to receive the pommel stone fall
back to his side. Very well. Frankly I expected that
might be your answer, but Ill have it anyway. Now we
will land at my sanctum yonder, where my minions
will perform interesting experiments upon you while
I rejoice in my celestial lords acquisition of the pommel stone. Descende!
The carpet descended gracefully through the icy
air until it hovered beside the highest parapet of the
white tower.
Augustus clapped his hands. Four squat creatures
with faces like toads tumbled hastily out onto the bat-
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tlements and leaped across to the carpet. They carried

long barbed prods of white metal which they held
levelled at the two young heroes.
Your last chance, said Augustus. He was no longer
smiling. Hand over the pommel stone of your own
free will or I shall command my minions to take it by
force of arms.
The creatures grinned widely showing that they,
unlike toads, had long sharp fangs.
Altor took the stone from his pocket. The sunlight
made it gleam with a thousand pinpricks of colour.
Augustus watched it with a look of smouldering triumph.
I could toss it down, said Altor. It would be lost
forever in the snow.
Augustus sneered. Id find it soon enough with
my magic, I assure you. Come, why throw away your
lives? Once I have the pommel stone youll be of no
further interest. Youd be free to go.
Sure, said Altor. Still, what choice have we got?
He glanced back at Caelestis and winked.
No choice at all, said Augustus. He held out his
hands greedily.
Altor moved in a blur of sudden action. Stepping
forward, he held out the stone towards Augustus,
then tossed it back over his shoulder and snatched for
the white amulet that hung at the wizards neck. The
93
thin chain snapped easily.

Stragulum, said Altor, consurge ad astra!
The carpet shot straight up. Altor and Caelestis
both leaped for the parapet, Caelestis snatching the
pommel stone out of mid air as he did.
Caelestis landed, rolled, and came to his feet. Altor
had misjudged the jump but managed to grab hold
of the parapet. He dangled for a second. His fingers
started to slip on the icy stone. With a burst of effort
he heaved himself over onto the battlements and let
out a gasp of relief.
A cry of panic drew their attention upwards, where
the carpet was rapidly dwindling into the sky. Augustus stared down imploringly, no longer the arrogant
arch-wizard but now just a frightened man. No! Call
the carpet back. Please!
Altor shook his head. You admire White Light so
much? Go and join him among the stars.
One of the toad-like minions attempted a panicstricken jump for the battlements, missed, and fell
to a grisly end on the hard rocks and ice. The others
accompanied their master on his final flight into the
limitless reaches of space. Altor and Caelestis watched
until the carpet was a speck lost in the haze of blue
infinity.
That was neatly done, said Caelestis. Where did
you learn to fly a carpet, may I ask?
94
Altor laughed out of sheer relief. Im glad I paid

a bit of attention to my language lessons back at the
monastery.
He looked at the white amulet in his hand and
was about to throw it over the parapet, but Caelestis
stopped him. No, let me have it.
I dont think its worth anything without the carpet. Incidentally, Caelestis, I still have a bone to pick
with you about that business in Dourhaven...
Oh, I didnt steal much. It was more of a loan,
actually. And the landlord gave us free board and
lodging when I told him you were a duke.
That still wasnt honest! Fraud is no better than
thievery.
Caelestis waved this objection aside. Oh, hell
make a tidy sum from all the customers wholl flock
to his inn after what happened today. Now, can I have
that amulet?
Altor sighed and tossed it at him. Go on, then, if
you can think of a use for it. Ill have the pommel
stone back, thank you.
Caelestis winced as he handed it over. You dont
think Id ever sell that?
I wouldnt put it past you. Altor shivered. Lets get
inside before we freeze to death.
Entering the tower, they reached a circular gallery
overlooking a stairwell. A stairwell but with no stairs
95
linking the floors. Looking down, they could see two

more galleries and then the ground-floor hall.
Perhaps he used the carpet to move from floor to
floor, said Altor.
Caelestis scratched his head. Not very convenient.
And how would the toad-things get about? No, there
must be another way...
A short search of the gallery led to a chance discovery. There were two thin white crystal rods running
up the entire inner wall of the tower from the hall
to the topmost gallery. Caelestis tentatively touched
one of these and vanished, only to appear on the next
gallery down.
Teleportation! he called up. Dont you just hate
these sorcerers?
By experimenting they discovered that one rod
conveyed them down, the other allowed them to ascend. Since there didnt seem to be any gold fixtures
around the tower, Caelestis was all for leaving as soon
as possible. Altor was more practical. Well need supplies and warmer clothes to survive out on the pack
ice, he said.
They found what they needed in Augustuss private apartments. Along with fine fur cloaks and thick
blankets there were cases packed with biscuits, wine
and beef jerky. Altor made up haversacks for the journey while Caelestis rummaged inquisitively among
96
the wizards effects.

Here is a jar of blue salve, he said. And a silver
plate marked with a pentagram.
Better leave them, said Altor. Who knows if they
might be booby-trapped?
Caelestis reluctantly tossed the plate back into the
cupboard where hed found it. Anything with a pentagram almost certainly could be trouble. At first he
was going to do the same with the salve, but he reconsidered and slipped it into his pocket instead. Are
we ready?
Altor finished fastening the straps to the bundles
hed made. Yes. Take your pick from Augustuss wardrobe and well be on our way.
Caelestis selected a long robe of silk-lined mink.
Altor opted instead for a plain fur-lined coat with
deep pockets, into one of which he put the pommel
stone. They also took a pair of thick mittens each.
That done, they descended to the ground floor and
with great effort pulled open the massive iron doors.
Oh, said Caelestis.
In front of the door stood a huge bronze-scaled demon with its back turned to them. Apparently it had
been there a very long time because snow was piled
up around its tail and legs. In front of it, however,
the snow was melted down to the rock in a broad icy
channel.
97
They soon saw why. Every time the demon breathed

out, it gave vent to a jet of hot steam that melted the
snow.
What are we going to do about this fellow? wondered Altor. The creature was all of three metres tall.
Even armed with a magic sword, he doubted if he
could put a dent in those hard metallic scales.
Well have to brazen it out, so to speak, said
Caelestis. Nerving himself, he squeezed past the
mound of snow around the demons rump and strode
out in front of it. Altor readied his sword, aware that
if the demon made a lunge for Caelestis he would
have only split-seconds in which to act.
But the demon continued to stare past Caelestis as
if he didnt exist.
Caelestis struck a fighting posture, relaxed, pulled
a face, experimented with various insults. Still the demon ignored him, its tiny deep-set eyes fixed on the
middle distance.
Altor came around to join his friend, studying the
demon in awe. You know what I think? Augustus
told it to keep people out, but he never told it to keep
them in.
Just as well, really. Caelestis looked down from the
pinnacle where they stood. All directions were the
same a blazing white haze of snow-covered pack
ice. Which way now? Shall we spin a bottle? Toss a
98
coin?
Weve got to get down onto the ice first. It looks
like a perilous climb. Particularly wearing gloves.
Caelestis removed his glove and held up one finger the finger on which he wore the golden ring.
Ah, Id already thought of that. Faltyn! Come forth
to serve me!
The Faltyn took shape in the icy air. Lost on the
frozen Mistral Sea... it mused. A slow death seems
certain, if not for my aid. Bearing in mind the gravity
of your predicament, what gift will you offer for my
services?
Oh for one of those magic lamps! sighed Caelestis.
Then I could have three wishes without having to
pay a penny.
Altor laughed in spite of himself. Its poetic justice.
Your genie is as avaricious as its master.
The Faltyn pretended to shiver, even though being
ethereal it was no doubt immune to the cold. Converse amongst yourselves if you wish, it said peevishly. If you have no use for me, I will return to my own
world...
Not so fast. Caelestis took out the white amulet Augustus had used to control the carpet. Here
is a magic stone. Transport us safely to the island of
Wyrd.
You ask too much. I can take you to the base of this
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pinnacle.
You offer too little. Caelestis held the amulet enticingly in front of the Faltyns nose. Sniff the sorcery.
Dont you want this bauble? If not, just say the word
and you can go back to the ring.
No, said the Faltyn, its fingers hovering over the
amulet. But I say again: to take you to Wyrd is too
far for my power. Down to the base of the pinnacle,
thats all.
That, then and you owe me a small service to be
granted later?
The Faltyn reluctantly agreed. As it took the amulet there was a shimmering and the whiff of unearthly
perfume. They now stood at the bottom of the pinnacle.
Which way to Wyrd? asked Altor.
The Faltyn ignored him. Answer! commanded
Caelestis.
Is this information to be the small service you
mentioned?
Merely to give us directions? Of course not. Though
the small service will be much more arduous if you
refuse to help us now.
The Faltyn considered this, then gestured vaguely.
That way lies Wyrd. As you walk, keep the north
star just to the right of dead ahead. Each night when
the comet called Red Death rises, you will be able to
100
check your bearings. It should appear in the east, just

at the edge of your vision as you face Wyrd.
Holding the white amulet to its lips, it smiled and
shimmered back into the nothingness from which it
had come.
That creature gives me the creeps, said Altor.
Me too, but this time I think we can trust it. In fact
well have to.
They started out in the direction the Faltyn had
said. A feverish grey-white light shone off the ice,
dazzling them. Flurries of needle-fine snow came
on the bitter gnawing wind that blew down from the
Arctic. They folded up the collars of their cloaks and
trudged in silence.
They had expected the frozen surface of the sea to
be flat and smooth, but soon learned otherwise. It was
an undulating expanse of pitted ice as hard and grey as
iron. A shroud of sparkling snow lay in patches over
this petrified seascape and sometimes the ice jutted
up in baroquely shaped tors and jagged bergs carved
by the wind.
The daylight leeched out of the sky at last. They
found the best shelter they could in the lee of an ice
crag. Here the snow had collected in a large mound
which Altor scooped out to make an igloo while
Caelestis hugged himself and stamped his feet to
stave off the cold.
101
The igloo finished, they crawled inside. Caelestis

pulled open his haversack and they both had a meagre
supper of biscuit and leathery dried meat. Night had
fallen by now and the interior of the igloo was pitch
dark. The cold had become numbing. Wadding the
blankets around them, they settled down to sleep.
Comfortable? said Caelestis in a sarcastic tone.
Quite snug, thank you, said Altor, knowing that
he just wanted an excuse to grumble.
Next time you get a hankering to save the world,
do me a favour. Leave me out of it.
Altor did not reply. After a while, Caelestis gave a
restful grunt and closed his eyes...
A millennial city stood in the midst of bleak tundra.
Night enclosed it. Its walls began to shiver and crack
as, in the clouds above it, phantom armies clashed in
bloody conflict.
The battle reached its height. Bolts of red fire spat
down from the heavens to strike the citys ramparts.
The city shuddered and then burst apart like an
over-burdened heart. Torrents of blood streamed
across the land and poured into the sea, which became a boiling cauldron of scarlet. Hot blood coursed
below the pack ice where two tiny figures lay in sleep.
Cracks formed and red steam rose, melting the ice.
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The red night was filled with eerie music from

beyond the world. Five comets rose. Hissing blood
washed over the two flailing figures and they sobbed
with pain and terror as five blazing lords looked down
from on high and laughed at their anguish...
By the Saviours holy toenails! Caelestis sat bolt upright, bathed in sweat.
Beside him, Altor grunted drowsily. No profanities, if you dont mind.
Caelestis fumbled for his haversack and extracted
the bottle of wine. After a swig or two he felt a little better. God, Altor, I just had the most hideous
nightmare!
Altor yawned. Tell me about it in the morning if
you must.
Caelestis was about to make an angry retort, but
then he heard something. Cocking his ear, he listened
until it came again. A strange sweet singing, like the
music in his dream.
Altor, he said.
Im asleep.
No, listen. He prodded Altor in the back. Listen!
Theres someone out on the ice and theyre singing!
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Chapter 9
The Shores
of Wyrd
hree figures the colour of ruby danced upon

the snow.
Altor pulled his head back inside the igloo,
out of the biting cold. Perhaps its a mirage, he said.
Can mirages sing?
Altor pondered this. The best thing might be to
ignore them.
Certainly, if only we could be sure that they would
ignore us.
Altor sighed, but Caelestis was obviously right.
Pulling on his fur-lined coat, he wriggled out through
the igloos narrow entrance. A moment later Caelestis appeared beside him, a slender shadow against the
dim red light gleaming off the ice.
Far away, the three figures continued to flit across
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the sparkling landscape. Altor and Caelestis set out

towards them. As they trudged nearer, they saw that
only two of the three were dancing: a girl and a youth.
They wore no warm clothing or furs as they glided
barefoot on the ice.
For a fact, whispered Caelestis, I have never seen a
more comely pair. They must be mirages.
Altors attention was all on the third figure. He
was less distinct, appearing to be a tall imperious
man wrapped in a scarlet cloak. He returned Altors
scrutiny with a baleful stare, eyes burning in a face of
blood-coloured darkness.
Altors sword made a sharp vibrato note as it left
its scabbard. Seeing the clean silver light, the red lord
scowled and he seemed to grow bigger, becoming first
a glowing haze and then a void starred with fading
embers. He faded against the night sky and was gone
altogether.
The other two still remained, singing wistfully as
they danced close to Altor and Caelestis, reaching
out towards them with entreating gestures. Supple
red flesh gleamed in the icy air. Their eyes were blank
with longing, their song wordless but somehow evocative of broken dreams and faded grandeur.
Altor took a step forward, half-raising his sword,
instinctively wary. But he could not bring himself to
attack an unarmed foe if, indeed, the red dancers
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were his foes.

The two danced away and receded across the snowdrifts.
Where are they going? said Caelestis breathlessly.
Altor was struck dumb with wonder. He could only
shake his head. Then he was off, chasing the flitting
red figures, skidding hastily across humps of ice and
snow in his urge not to lose sight of them.
Wait! shouted Caelestis, but Altor didnt seem to
hear him. He followed, having to quicken his pace
until he was almost running. But, although the two
beautiful dancers moved with unhurried grace, they
stayed always tantalizingly just out of reach.
At last they stopped, the dance slowing to a final
languid pose in which they stood frozen like statues.
The song ended. As the last notes died away there
was only the forlorn sigh of the wind.
Altor stumbled to a halt with Caelestis close behind him. The cold air felt raw in their throats. Warily
they approached the now-motionless dancers.
The two straightened and turned.
They raised their crimson faces to display smiles of
cruel pleasure.
A blink, and they were gone. Altor and Caelestis
stood alone in the middle of the windswept wilderness. The snow crystals skittered like dust over the
hard ice, showing no sign of footprints.
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Magical creatures... if they were real at all, said

Caelestis. Now they had stopped running, the cold
seemed to intensify. He had to grit his teeth to keep
them from chattering.
Altor shook his head as if waking up from a deep
sleep.
Why did you chase them?
Altor looked at him. There was something in their
song He broke off, scowled. I dont know.
I do. It was Red Death. Caelestis gazed up at the
comet carving a crimson trail across the velvet sky.
Remember the puppet show each of the Magi has
his agent. First Blue Moons werewolves killed the
harpist. Green Flame sent the skeleton in the meteor,
then Yellow Eye awoke the World Serpent.
And Augustus told us he served White Light.
Yes, that was a more subtle approach, apparently
coming to our rescue like that. Now its Red Deaths
turn, and hes lured us into the middle of nowhere
with his... whatever they were. Mirages, snow vampires...
And we still have the Warlock King to worry
about.
Caelestis tugged his coat tighter. The main thing
we have to worry about is not freezing to death. Have
you given any thought to how well find our way back
to the igloo now?
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Altor raised the sword that was still gripped tightly

in his hand. Once before its magic produced light.
He held the blade out. Slowly a silvery radiance
grew inside the metal, casting a moonshine track
across the terrain. The thin snow was like dust, but in
places the crystals had frozen onto the pack ice. Here
and there they could make out faint footprints their
own, not the phantom dancers.
With painstaking care they retraced their steps. The
cold was so intense that it seemed to rise in throbbing waves from the frozen sea, through thick padded boot-leather that gave no more protection than
threadbare cloth, up their limbs which now felt heavy
and numb.
Caelestis sighed and his breath made a soft crackling in the air as it froze. Its no use. Well never find
it.
Was it his imagination, or was there a dark mist
closing overhead? He swayed, mortally weary. To lie
down just for a minute would be blessed relief. He felt
weighted down by his thick coat and started to shrug
it off his shoulders.
Altor caught the coat and pulled it back around
him. Its there. Just a little way further.
Ahead against the sprinkled stars was the hunched
shadow of the ice crag where theyd made their igloo.
They staggered towards it.
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There was a peal of mocking laughter as sweet as

the music of heaven. Twin flashes of ruby-red light
shot past through the night. They struck the igloo
and two pillars of crimson mist rose up. For an instant
the image of the two dancers appeared again, shimmering in the darkness, and then the igloo erupted in
a blast of red fire.
Altor and Caelestis ducked as chunks of ice went
hurtling in all directions. Spurts of fire fell hissing,
drilling tiny pits in the pack ice. The laughter was
sucked away into the distance and then was gone.
They looked up. The igloo was broken open like
a giant egg, their supplies and spare blankets inside
now ablaze in a sputtering fire that splashed liquid
shadows across the red-lit ice.
There was nothing they could do but stumble over
to the fire and warm themselves as best they could. If
the blaze lasted till sunrise then they could hope to
stay alive a little longer in the faint warmth of the day.
There was no need for either of them to say it: they
would have to reach Wyrd before night fell again, or
they were surely doomed.
In the western sky, Red Death dipped low, sent a
brief thread of light along the ice, and was gone.
Dawn revealed a limpid green-blue sky like a dome of
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ancient copper. The north star hung low on the horizon, a glistening bauble obscured by haze.
Caelestis peered into the broken shell of the igloo.
The fire had died down so that now only a few feeble
flames licked around the remains of their belongings.
There were deep holes filled with water where the
heat had melted a metre or more into the pack ice.
No sign of the money pouch, he said glumly. I
think were doomed never to keep anything but the
clothes on our backs until we finish this damned
quest.
Id rather have salvaged one scrap of food than all
the coins from here to Tamor, said Altor. That would
be worth more than gold to us right now.
The sun rose, throwing up a sheet of dazzling light
from the ice. There was no sense of warmth, but the
malignant cold of the night-time withdrew a little
like a spider into its web.
We might as well get going, said Caelestis. Weve
a long walk ahead.
All through the day they trudged north. The feeling was soon drained from their legs by the cold, so
that they could only stagger along like stiff wooden
puppets. Above whirled the sun, cheerless and icily
luminous amid a welter of cloud. Its watery beams,
reflected from the ice, drowned out the contours of
the landscape so that it became a featureless pulsing
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glare. Exhausted, half-blind, weak with hunger, Altor

and Caelestis began to feel like motes of dust drifting
in an immense white void.
The sun reached its zenith and began the inexorable descent into the west. The savage cold crouched
there waiting to pounce with the darkness.
Altors lips were blistered, his jaw numb. He dropped
back to where his friend was struggling across a deep
trench in the ice and offered him his hand.
With an effort, Caelestis clambered up out of the
trench.
T-tell me youve s-sighted dry land, he said.
Altor shook his head. We ought to call the Faltyn.
It wouldnt do any good. Even if it could help us,
weve nothing to pay it with.
Theres my magic sword...
Caelestis shook his head. No. Surprising himself,
he mustered a smile even though it hurt his lips. I
wouldnt want to give that wretched creature the satisfaction.
They turned again to the north. Grim resignation
had lent them a last reserve of strength and they set
out together. Live or die, at least they would never
give up while they still had a breath in their lungs.
Low in the sky now, the sun grew swollen and red.
Its beams now fainter, the dazzling ice-haze gave way
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to long pools of violet shadow.

Caelestis and Altor saw it together. They clasped
each others shoulders and pointed excitedly into the
gathering dusk.
Dull amber sunbeams caught the outline of cliffs
cliffs lined with the silhouettes of tall pine trees. It
was the coast of Wyrd.
They quickened their pace, almost breaking into a
run. It was impossible to tell how far away the coast
was, but if they could just reach solid ground before
nightfall then there was a chance of building a fire
even finding something to eat.
The cliffs loomed. They could not be far off now.
Pine trees sprinkled with snow made a feathery outline against the twilit sky. Then, as the last of the daylight shrank away, Caelestis spotted something out of
the corner of his eye.
It was a fur-clad figure lying prone on the ice.
Caelestis looked up from the figure. Altor was still
trudging towards the shoreline. Caelestis was about
to call out but hesitated. Surely the stranger must be
dead, and to tarry out on the ice with night coming
on was foolhardy.
He took a few steps away from the stricken figure,
then stopped. Altor! he yelled. Theres someone over
here!
By the time Altor reached the scene, Caelestis had
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rolled the stranger over. It was a young girl with ravenblack hair. Under her thick woollen cloak she wore a
peasants simple homespun. She was agonizingly thin
and her skin was blue with cold.
Shes alive just, said Caelestis. He started to try
and lift the girl.
Altor picked her up and put her over his shoulder
before setting out again towards the coast.
They reached Wyrd just as the stars came out. The
northern lights were a lacy curtain of spangles against
the black backdrop of night.
Altor laid the girl down and set about gathering
firewood. Caelestis looked back across the ice. The
five orbs of the True Magi had yet to rise, but he
shook his fist at them all the same.
We beat you again, you hear? he cried. Then, realizing the ordeal had left him feverish and close to
hysteria, he slumped to the ground with a sob of relief.
Altor had lost his flint and tinder in the explosion at the igloo, but he knew how to survive in the
wild. With two stones he made sparks, and soon the
branches hed gathered were blazing nicely. Caelestis
crept over and, shivering, warmed himself beside the
fire. After the ravenous cold of the day it felt painful,
but deliciously so.
Altor lifted the girl and moved her nearer. Hotspots
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of colour appeared on her cheeks, but her body remained limp and cold. She gave a soft moan and her
eyelids fluttered open.
Shes barely more than a child, said Caelestis in
surprise now that he had a clear look at her in the
firelight.
Can you hear me? said Altor.
The girls lips moved. She was barely strong enough
to speak, and they had to bend close to catch her
words. Im Enais, she said. I tried to escape from
him. My brothers too, but they...
Her voice began to trail off. Shes going into shock,
said Altor.
Caelestis looked around in agitation. Bring her
nearer the fire, then. Quickly!
Its no use. Shed lost too much body-heat before
we found her.
Weve got to do something!
Bunching his hands into fists in his anguish, Caelestis suddenly remembered his heavy gold ring. Swivelling it around so that the dark gem faced outwards, he
called to the Faltyn.
The fire briefly flared lavender and the Faltyn
stepped from the flames. It bent to look at the girl
the way a scholar might pause in his walk to study a
dying insect.
This mortal is not long for the world, it mur114
mured. Fluttering its fingers to cover a yawn, it went

on: Well then, you have made it as far as Wyrd. I
must admit your fortitude quite surprises me.
Caelestis gritted his teeth. Save this girls life, he
said.
The Faltyns mouth formed an O. Her life! This is
what you mean by a small service?
Altor felt Enaiss pulse. I think shes gone...
Caelestis realized he still had the jar of salve hed
found in Augustuss laboratory. He fumbled in his
pocket and pulled it out, thrusting it towards the Faltyn. Take this, whatever it is! Just save her.
The Faltyn peered at the jar and licked its lips. Altor, kneeling beside Enais, happened to look up. He
saw the jar and his eyes narrowed. Just as the Faltyn was reaching to take the jar, he snatched it out of
Caelestiss hands.
Unscrewing the lid, he sniffed the contents. By the
Saviours merciful grace! he cried. This is jeshroot
ointment worth more than its weight in diamonds,
Caelestis. Its healing properties are second only to
Gods own!
He smeared a little ointment on his finger and
dabbed it on the girls lips, her throat, her eyelids.
They waited. She gave a small groan and her eyes
flickered open.
The Faltyn leaned closer and made a grab for the
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jar of salve. When Altor snatched it away, the Faltyn pretended it had just been idly reaching for sparks
blown from the fire. I am gratified to see the little
soul is alive, it said. Now, if youll hand me the ointment I was promised Ill be going...
Caelestis angrily dismissed it by closing his hand
on the ring.
Enais looked up at them in the firelight and smiled.
I saw you both approaching a huge Palace... she said.
Her face clouded and she added: He was there. It
must have been a dream...
Who? said Altor, laying his hand on her brow.
Who was there?
The Warlock King... He gave me a message. He
said that he is waiting for you.
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Chapter 10
The
Seer
own in the valley, darkly outlined by the

moonlight, were a few buildings built of
stout pine logs. A plume of hearth-smoke
rose in the still night air. There was no-one in sight.
Enais, resting in Altors arms as he carried her,
craned her neck. This is my village, she said.
Passing between the black boles of a few scattered
trees, they descended to the village. The moon had
risen, making the world seem to glow. The only sound
in the stillness was the crisp tread of boots through
deep-piled snow.
Overlooking a frozen pond and stream, the village
consisted of a longhouse with a massive thatched roof,
surrounded by a few isolated cottages and some small
stone huts used for storage.
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The smoke came from a vent in the roof of the

longhouse. They headed towards it, shivering as they
emerged from the shelter of the slope into a sudden
blast of wind. Inside the longhouse, a dog began to
bark.
Hello! called Caelestis, knocking on the door.
It opened at once and a lantern was thrust out.
They could not see the man holding it because of the
glare in their faces. Aromas wafted warmly out from
the smoky interior of the house of parsnip stew,
baked bread and potato-spirit. Also the sweaty stench
of men and animals.
What do you want? demanded the face behind the
lantern.
Caelestis shielded his eyes. Shelter, for one thing.
As their vision became accustomed to the light,
they could make out the details of the mans face. He
was balding and squint-eyed, scrawny as a sick rooster.
He looked old. In Wyrd, where life was harder than
perhaps anywhere else in the world, that meant that
he might be nearly thirty.
Who are you? he said suspiciously. Youre not
from hereabouts, I can see that.
Were travellers, said Altor. Weve brought back
this girl, Enais.
Enais? The man raised the lantern and nodded as
he saw the girls face. We thought she was dead.
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She would have frozen out on the pack ice, said

Caelestis, annoyed at being kept out in the cold. We
saved her life.
The man returned Caelestiss haughty glare with a
sullen scowl. Dont expect thanks for that. Death is
escape of a kind.
Caelestis snorted in derision. In that case youve
only to lower your neck to the ground and with my
sword I can hastily arrange your own escape. No? I
thought not. In that case, spare us your melodramatic
drivel and let us in!
The girl needs food and warmth, said Altor quietly. And we could do with the same ourselves.
The man hesitated, then made up his mind. Grumbling, he opened the door wide. Come in, come in.
And be quick about it! snapped a toothless old
woman sitting by the fire. Once the cold gets in, itll
only go out again with the spring. Cackling at this
adage, she turned back to stare at the burning peat in
the hearth.
Chickens ran between their feet, clucking and
pecking at the cracks in the floorboards. Miserably
underfed pigs snuffled and grunted in the straw beside the walls. Altor and Caelestis realized that the
whole village and all of their livestock must cram into
this one building for the winter.
No-one spoke a word. The man with the lantern
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led them through the silently staring throng. In a

pot over the fire a thin broth was simmering. Seeing
Caelestis look at it hungrily, a woman stepped forward and clanged the lid shut. Caelestis glared back
at her.
Weve not eaten since yesterday evening, said Altor, laying Enais down on a blanket by the hearth.
Bread, said the man to a small boy who had followed them from the door.
The boy bounded off to a curtained-off area at the
back of the longhouse and came back with a wooden
trencher containing slices of crumbly bread soaked in
thin gravy.
Thank you, said Altor.
Words fail me, said Caelestis. He would have
liked to leave the bread untouched to show his disdain, but hunger got the better of him. Stuffing it into
his mouth, he reached for a wineskin hanging by the
hearth.
The man took the wineskin, poured a little into a
cup, and handed it to Caelestis. With another cupful
he moistened Enaiss lips.
What about Duros and Glesh? said another man,
breaking the general silence of the other villagers.
Altor guessed he meant Enaiss brothers. I believe
they didnt make it. Noticing the reaction of man who
had invited them in, he added, Youre the father?
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The man kept his eyes on Enais, who was now

sleeping, but he nodded. My name is Shanans. Im
the headman of this village. Last week my wife died
on the same day the steward came to demand the seasons taxes. There was a quarrel and the steward was
killed. My sons fled, taking Enais with them.
Leaving you to take the blame? said Caelestis.
Shanans shook his head. No, our overlord would
know who the culprits were. He could chase them in
their dreams, even kill them as they slept. Thats why
Glesh and Duros had to get away once you leave
Wyrd youve safe from his power... He hung his head
and wept silently. But of course, no-one ever leaves
Wyrd.
Altor put a hand on his shoulder. There is always
hope.
Not while he rules this land, said a woman cradling an infant in her arms.
The Warlock King? We have come to make a
reckoning with him, said Caelestis. Just tell us where
well find his Palace.
The villagers had begun to relax a little, but now
they fell silent again and stared in shock at the two
young heroes. Shanans tucked the blanket around his
daughter, ignoring Caelestiss question.
A baby started to cry softly. One of the villagers a
tall, lank-limbed girl wearing a hooded jerkin got
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up and went over to the cot. Several women were sitting there, faces drawn with worry. They looked up
and shook their heads.
The tall girl came over and dropped to sit cross-legged beside Shanans. The childs no better, Im afraid,
she said quietly.
An accident this morning, Shanans explained to
Altor and Caelestis. He spoke wearily, drained of
emotion by his many cares. Boiling water was spilled
over the baby
Death will be a mercy, said the lanky girl.
Caelestis jumped to his feet. Escape? Mercy?
What is it with you people? Death is death! You have
to rail against it and go down fighting!
The villagers only shook their heads sorrowfully at
his outburst. Now youve come to Wyrd youll soon
learn differently, said a man.
Oh yes? Perhaps its you who ought to learn.
Caelestis strode over to the cot, moving the anxious
women aside so as to get a look at the baby. It was a
shocking sight. His skin was terribly scalded, so raw
and red that he could not stand to have blankets on
him. He was too weak to do more than make faint
mewling noises. Caelestis felt his normal cynicism
desert him. He gave a gasp of horror.
Altor came up beside him. In his hand he had the
jar of jeshroot ointment. Brother Emeritus, the healer
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at my monastery, had a small sample of this, he said.

He kept it on a pinhead.
Caelestis looked at the jar. We have a whole thimbleful. Its worth as much as diamond dust, you said?
Altor nodded. But what is a life worth?
Much more than that, said Caelestis. He dipped
his finger into the jar and quickly, before he even had
a chance to change his mind, spread it on the babys
scalded flesh.
The blisters disappeared and the inflamed skin became pink and healthy. The old women beside the
cot drew back in awe. The baby himself just stared
up at Caelestis for a moment, then began to gurgle
happily.
One of the women gave a shout of pure joy and
snatched the baby in her arms. Tears streamed down
her face.
I take it thats the mother, said Altor to Caelestis.
He broke into a broad smile.
A miracle! cried one of the other women. Are you
from the home of the gods?
Caelestis chuckled. Hardly. Its just ointment from
a wizards laboratory. Have you never seen magic before? Arent there any wizards in Wyrd?
Only the Warlock King, said someone.
After a moment of silence everyone began to gather around the baby, chattering merrily in an effort to
123
dispel the sombre thoughts stirred up by the mention

of their monarch. Altor and Caelestis went back to
the fireside.
The woman who was stirring the broth poured
some of it into a mug and handed it to Caelestis with
a smile. They say that virtue is its own reward, he
said to Altor, but a little food and drink doesnt go
amiss either.
Shanans beckoned them over. I forgot to introduce
you. This is Oraba.
They looked at the lanky girl sitting cross-legged
by the hearth. She had pulled back the hood of her
jerkin. Seeing their expressions, Shanans laughed.
Not what you expected?
They had thought at first Oraba was an ordinary
teenage girl; now they saw she was anything but that.
Her head was shaved completely except for a long ponytail of yellow hair. A band of white paint ran across
her eyes, and in the middle of her forehead there was
a tattoo in the shape of an open circle.
Strangest of all was the look in her eyes. She had a
tranquility and self-assurance far beyond her years.
Caelestis was so disconcerted at her appearance
that he forgot his usual gallantry. Who ?
Oraba is a seer, explained Shanans.
A seer? But... who would think? Caelestis stood
open-mouthed.
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Altor stepped in. What my friends saying... That

is, Lady Oraba, youre very young. We thought that
seers would be older...
He fell silent too, aware that he was just making
himself look foolish.
Oraba laughed. Im no great lady, she said. I was
born in a hut pretty much like this one, actually. No
need for grand titles. Just call me Oraba.
Shanans fetched goblets of mulled wine and the
four of them found a quiet corner where they could
talk. Oraba listened with interest as they explained
the quest for the Sword of Life. After theyd finished,
she nodded and said, Destiny has led you by the right
path. The Warlock King has something of yours
part of the broken sword. I sense it. But I think destiny had a double purpose in bringing you here.
Speak on, said Caelestis expansively, reaching for
the wineskin.
Time to sleep now, said Oraba. Well talk again
in the morning.
She got up in one lithe motion and walked off to her
pallet beyond the hides at the end of the hall. Caelestis nodded slowly and set down his goblet. He hadnt
realized until now how tired he was. He yawned and
stretched like a cat.
I think Orabas right, said Altor. we could certainly do with a good nights rest.
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A woman came over who might have been Shananss sister. She put blankets into their arms and
showed them a place beside the fire. Sleep here, she
said. Since a seer is with us, tonight there will be no
bad dreams.
They rose after daybreak and breakfasted on salted
porridge and sweet buns. Shanans gave them a haversack containing provisions for the journey.
I feel guilty taking anything, said Altor, shaking
hands. You have so little.
We can spare it, said Shanans. And in any case,
the gift you gave us was far greater.
It was time to be on their way. Oraba was not about.
After bidding the villagers farewell, Altor and Caelestis stepped out into the cold morning air and slowly
trudged through the snow away from the longhouse.
Dont be in such a hurry.
They turned at the sound of this clear young voice.
Oraba was sitting perched on a snow-sprinkled woodpile. She wore only her thin hooded jerkin, seeming
not to feel the cold.
They smiled and walked over. I thought youd forgotten to say goodbye, joked Altor.
No, said Oraba, but we have some things to talk
about that the others might not understand. Here, a
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parting gift.
She held out a small sack. After a moment of surprise, Caelestis took it and looked inside. He pulled
out an iron bell. Oh, just what I always wanted.
Oraba laughed. Its for ringing out the old and
ringing in the new!
Thats exactly the sort of thing Id expect a seer to
say, grumbled Caelestis. Whatever a seer is.
Glimpses of the future cant easily be put into
words, said Oraba with a shrug. Sometimes I think
I just tell people what they already know. You already
knew your destiny was to assemble the pieces of the
Sword of Life, didnt you?
I dont know if Id use the word destiny, said
Caelestis. It makes it sound like we cant think of
anything wed rather do.
And after the Sword of Life is whole? pressed Altor. What then, exactly?
Youre asking a seer to be exact? Im sorry, I dont
mean to sound all cryptic and ever-so-wise, but the
future is never exact. Your destiny is to stop the five
last True Magi from returning to the world Red
Death, Blue Moon and those others. To do this you
need the Sword of Life. The Warlock King has the
hilt, and thats why youve come to Wyrd.
Originally, yes, said Altor. But seeing the hardship
here, the way these people are suffering thats as
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good a reason to rid them of his evil.

Good and evil are like the counters in a game of
chequers, said Oraba. Long ago a man, a visionary,
used the power of imagination to transform Wyrd
into a land of ease and pleasure. The people in those
days didnt toil their way through short and miserable lives. All took their fill from the cornucopia.
Time wore on without season or death. The land was
changeless a paradise indeed, but paradise is an inhuman place. Man cannot endure heaven any more
than he can endure hell.
So what happened? asked Caelestis.
This. Oraba waved her hand, taking in everything
around them. Our land and our dreams have become
sour, dull, grey. The Warlock King has closed himself off from the fount of existence. His heart is hard.
He holds Wyrd in a withered grip, like a dead flower
pressed in a book.
And yet you say hes not evil?
She sighed and gazed north. Forget good and evil.
Just destroy him if you can. She sighed and turned
back to them. Im a seer. That means I can look into
the future for you just one quick peek.
In that case, perhaps youd better tell us where well
find the Warlock King, said Caelestis.
His Palace of Dusk, according to some, lies at the
northernmost tip of Wyrd. Others say it exists only
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in dreams.
Were going to have to know which is true.
Oraba laughed. Both!
She closed her eyes, and it was eerie to think she
might be looking into their future. You must pass
through a bramble wood to get there. The elves will
try to stop you. Challenge them to a game of chequers, but be warned that they can cast illusions on the
pieces that will confuse whoever tries to play them.
In the woods I see frost hounds the Warlock Kings
first defences, the first elements of his dreamworld
that will become aware of you. There are too many to
fight. Trust alone will save you.
And what will we find within the Palace of Dusk?
asked Altor.
She opened her eyes. That is something even I
cannot say. What lies at the heart of the dreamworld
is something you must discover for yourselves.
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Chapter 11
The Forest
of Thorns
hey headed north under a sky laden with snow.

Wherever possible they kept to the shelter of
pine trees, out of the arctic wind that whistled
around them and stung their skin. Each breath froze
into crystals of ice, a fine white flurry of snow-dust on
the breeze.
By mid-afternoon the snow was falling thickly.
Ahead stretched a forest of tangled black thorns.
A path of sorts lay through the briars, but as they
trudged towards it a group of tall figures dressed in
green and grey came out of the forest. They carried
longbows and slim silver swords, and their eyes were
like emeralds.
Altor and Caelestis stopped when they were a halfdozen paces from the group. The leader came forward,
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meeting their defiant stare with his cold green gaze.

Then he spoke: Now wild weather of the world
awakes throughout this land. Clouds cast keenly their
cold upon the earth, with great gusts from the north
to shiver the flesh. The blizzard bears down on all
living things. The whistling wind whips up from the
fells, filling every dale full of deep drifts.
Its winter all right, said Altor.
The elf held them in the scrutiny of his pale eyes.
The way ahead is ours, and the toll we exact is mortal
blood. We shall deny you these woods. Avaunt! Follow your own tracks back through the snow. You shall
not pass.
Caelestis turned to Altor. Typical elf says everything three times over.
The elf s smile at this was bleak and soulless. A
word can many times be spoken. Life once lost is not
repeated.
Death? Altor shook his head. We dont care for
fighting. Clashing swords speak loudly, but saying
nothing worth hearing. What would be a better way
to settle things, Caelestis?
Why not a game of chequers?
The elf pondered this. Like all creatures of his race,
he clearly found it hard to resist a challenge. At last
he came to a decision. Still with his eyes fixed on Altor and Caelestis, he called to his warriors: Bring a
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board! Fetch playing-pieces! Mortal shall with faerie

duel for the right to use this path.
One of the elves loped off into the thorn forest, returning a few minutes later with a chequers set, which
he placed on a tree-stump. The other elves lowered
their bows and peered in fascination as Caelestis set
out the pieces.
The leader of the elves sat down in the snow, his fur
robes spread around him. Who will play?
Caelestis pulled off his gloves and crouched down
opposite him. Blowing into his hands to warm them,
he said. Lets begin.
The elf turned the board. Yours shall be the black
pieces. I take the white.
Whatever.
The elf reached out, touched a piece, considered it.
He changed his mind and moved another piece.
Caelestis called out to move to Altor, who was
crouching some distance away with his back to them.
He had dug up a number of pebbles which he set out
in rows in the snow. As Caelestis announced the elf s
move, Altor moved one of his pebbles.
The elf frowned. Whats this?
Caelestis smiled genially. My friend is the one playing you. Please be quiet while he decides his move.
Nonsense! said the elf. If he is my opponent, he
must sit at the board, not play with pebbles.
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Altor called out his opening move. Caelestis pushed

forward one of the black pieces. My friend is worried
he might find that too distracting, he said. He prefers to concentrate on the game without any... outside
influences, shall we say.
You mean to suggest that I would use trickery?
hissed the elf. Deception? Illusion?
I said nothing of the kind, replied Caelestis affably. Your move.
The elf shoved one of his pieces forward with ill
grace, making a noise like an angry swan as he did
so.
Altor swiftly replied with a counter-move. The
game progressed. Occasionally Caelestis found that
a move Altor called out to him seemed as if it would
place one piece on top of another, or make use of a
piece that had already been lost. But when he went to
make the move it always worked the pieces returned
to their old positions, mysteriously leaping back into
what had seemed to be blank spaces, while phantom
white pieces proved not to be there after all.
Caelestis rubbed his eyes. The illusions made him
feel dizzy, but he was enjoying the look of consternation on the elf s face.
At last the elf was forced to concede defeat. With
a petulant gesture he swept the pieces back into their
box and affected a look of boredom at the games out133
come.
You lose. Caelestis was unable to resist gloating.
The elf lord lowered his proud gaze. You set the
test, this game, and I am overthrown. No grudge shall
prevent me from fulfilling my promise. If the outcome
had been otherwise, however, and I had been the one
to win would you then have kept our bargain and
turned back? I doubt it.
Thats a bit uncalled-for, said Caelestis sharply.
You lost fair and square. It shows poor grace to accuse us of falseness.
My words were spoken in ill-considered haste,
admitted the elf reluctantly, and now I must make
reparations. I shall give you a gift as recompense for
the slight my tongue offered you.
He pronounced a few syllables in his own language
and the chequers pieces sparkled with grey-green
light. These playing pieces now have my rune upon
them, said the elf. When you contend against the
final foe, this sorcery of mine shall aid you. At that
time, the harm you were dealt by my unkind words
shall be undone.
Caelestis shrugged and put the pieces in his coat
pocket. He had no idea what magic had been cast on
them, but at least he could use them as bargaining
chips when dealing with the Faltyn.
The elf got to his feet and brushed away the snow.
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He thrust the chequers board towards one of his warriors. Burn this, he said. Turning half-back towards
Altor and Caelestis, he went on, Ahead lies the Forest
of Thorns. The agreement will be honoured. We shall
not oppose you if that is where you wish to go, though
foul and fierce are the dangers that youll find. Wild
things wander in the briars, and bugbears with hungry
breath will follow your trail by night. It would be tedious to tell you one-tenth of the further threats that
abound within the thickets, so no mention need be
made of the phantoms and wyrms and frost hounds,
too, that may seek you out.
Thanks for the pep talk, said Caelestis. But weve
got to be going now...
The staunchest mortal would suffer no dishonour
if his heart quailed at this point, insisted the elf. No
honest man would chastise a fellow who turned back
from this fell forest.
Caelestis looked at Altor. What do you reckon?
Sounds fun. Lets get in there.
Right. Thanks for the game. With a cheery wave
to the elfin warriors, he passed by them and entered
the Forest of Thorns.
Altor caught up a few seconds later. I thought Id
better check. Theyre not following.
Caelestis looked along the path ahead. It was already shrouded in gloom although the hour was
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barely past midday. Maybe they know something we

dont, he said.
The day went swiftly within the spiny thickets.
Night came all in a bound, staining the visible patches
of sky like ink spilling across a page. But the snow
kept a faint luminescence of its own. The tangled
thorn bushes stretching above their heads formed
a web of blackness in which the faint white gleam
seemed trapped like vapour.
Their boots crunched on the powdery snow. By
now the wind had dropped, making the awesome
cold slightly easier to bear, but their breath still rose
in clouds against the night sky.
Do you think this stuff would burn? said Caelestis,
holding aside a branch of black brambles.
Altor shrugged. Somehow I doubt it, but I guess
its time we made camp for the night anyway. Will
bread and cold soup do you for supper?
Yum, it sounds as tasty as.... Wait.
Caelestis fell silent, cocking his ear. Half a minute
passed while they both stood tensed. A noise nearby
made them whirl, but it was only an overladen branch
tipping its burden of snow to the ground.
Altor laughed and tossed down his travelling-gear.
Your imaginations getting the better of you and it
wouldnt be for the first time! Lets get some grub.
Ssh... warned Caelestis.
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He pointed in the direction of a soft sound that

came drifting through the bushes the crisp pad pad
pad of stealthy footfalls in the snow. Through an eddy
of flakes swirling gently to the ground stared a pair of
icy eyes.
Something moved off to one side. Altor spun in
time to see a dark shape lope between the briars. He
took Caelestis by the arm and led him slowly backwards.
Theres more than one, he said.
Caelestis nodded. They turned and began walking
briskly away from the spot, abandoning the haversack
that Shanans had given them. A moment later there
was a muffled growling somewhere behind them
as the creatures fell on the haversack and ripped it
apart.
Maybe theyll be content with the provisions, said
Caelestis. He looked back but could see only darkness
and dancing snowflakes.
Altor set his jaw grimly. I doubt it. In fact, here
they come.
Dark shapes stalked them through the thorny
thickets. They had a glimpse of naked blue flanks,
eyes like hoarfrost, fangs that were jagged black icicles. Rasping breath came closer the eager panting
of a pack of hunting dogs.
Altor and Caelestis quickened their pace. So did
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the frost hounds. Throwing caution aside, they broke

into a run.
The frost hounds stayed hard on their heels. They
could hear the relentless crunch of their racing paws
in the snow, feel the freezing breath on the back of
their necks.
Sixth sense warned Caelestis and he looked back
over his shoulder to see an ice-rimmed maw flying
towards him. He lashed out, ramming his fist against
the snapping teeth. Sharp icy points bit through the
thick leather of his glove and Caelestis felt a numbing
stab of pain. The hound dropped to a crouch, growling, and Caelestis kicked at it.
It turned and sloped off into the bushes. There,
waiting in the darkness, dozens of eyes glared like
ominous stars.
Realizing Caelestis had fallen behind, Altor
stopped. His breath puffed up, briefly luminous in the
dim light emanating from the snow. Were not quitting, are we? he panted.
Keeping his gaze fixed on the watching eyes,
Caelestis put his hands on his knees and drew a long
breath. His arm was throbbing where the frost hound
had bitten him. Im bone weary, Altor. If weve got to
make a stand, heres as good a place as any.
Altor did not reply. He took a step closer, glancing
to one side of the track. Caelestis saw and nodded.
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Altor bared his sword. Caelestis dropped to the

ground just as a hound broke cover and launched itself
with a snarl at his throat. The sword carved a blazing silver arc. The snarl was cut off. With a thud, the
hounds head landed in the snow. Blood like murky
ice water sluiced from the severed veins, freezing into
a web of frost as it congealed.
Caelestis got shakily to his feet. His whole arm felt
stiff and drained of warmth. Actually, do you think
you could handle them by yourself? he said. Only I
think Im going to pass out...
Altor supported him with his left arm while keeping the sword levelled at the watching hounds. The
pack had fallen into a baleful silence, but he could
hear some of them moving through the thickets to
either side.
If we get surrounded were done for, he muttered.
Half-carrying Caelestis, he retreated until the path
divided in two. One branch stretched off between
the thorns and was swallowed by darkness. The other
wound up a slope and ended in front of a cave.
Which way? said Altor. We might shelter in the
cave or it might be a dead end.
Caelestis lifted his head. Despite the cold, there
were feverish beads of sweat pouring down his face.
Cave... he gasped. Trust, thats what Oraba said...
Altor started up the slope. He felt as if he was in
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a dream, his legs so heavy that he seemed to be wading through treacle. Caelestis was barely conscious.
His feet dragged, scuffing feebly at the snow as they
climbed towards the cave.
Two hounds broke from the pack and came pounding in full chase. Altor reached back without turning,
slashing wildly with his sword. Icy fangs snapped shut
on empty air and the hounds slunk back, but they did
not retreat.
In front of the cave mouth now, Altor saw that it
was choked with briars. He gave a groan and lowered
Caelestis to a sitting position. Given a few minutes
they could have hacked through the briars and perhaps gained safety from the frost hounds.
But they didnt have a few minutes. The pack was
already upon them.
Seeing that their prey was cornered, the rest of the
hounds had bounded up the slope. Altor turned to
confront a dozen foes with eyes of burning cold, jaws
gaping, lean muscles coiled to spring.
He raised his sword as the pack closed in.
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Chapter 12
The Palace
of the Dusk
his wont do! Shoo! Go on now, be off with

you!
At the sound of the voice, the frost hounds
drew back like scolded children, turning and slipping
away down the hill. Altor watched them go. Eerily
silent, they went like shadows on the snow and within seconds they had been entirely swallowed by the
night.
Altor lowered his sword and turned round in
amazement. Standing in the cave mouth was an old
woman. She held up a lantern and gave him a welcoming smile.
Im sorry about that. They get a bit boisterous
sometimes.
Boisterous? Caelestis looked up, eyes half closed.
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One of them nearly had my arm off...

Oh dear. Well, wed better see to that right away.
Turning to Altor, she said, Bring your friend inside.
She went back inside the cave. Altor didnt bother
wondering what had happened to all the briars. He
helped Caelestis to his feet and they followed the old
woman.
At the end of a narrow tunnel hung a fur rug. Pushing it aside, Altor gasped to see a huge hearth where
a pot of stew bubbled enticingly over a crackling log
fire.
Caelestiss nose twitched. Is that roast pork? he
murmured. Mulled wine, too? Must be dreaming...
Altor lay him gently on a cot covered with thick
blankets. Caelestis smiled as his head sunk into the
pillow. A moment later he was sound asleep.
The old woman came over and rolled up Caelestiss
sleeve. Three or four fangs were lodged in his flesh.
Using tweezers she pulled them out, put lotion on
the cuts, and wound a bandage over them. Caelestiss
only reaction to this had been to wince slightly as the
fangs were drawn out. Now he sighed in his sleep and
turned over, snuggling contentedly into the blankets.
Altor watched all this from beside the fire. His skin,
pinched numb by the cold outside, was tingling as the
warmth came back.
The old lady looked up beaming and the firelight
142
made her eyes twinkle. A nice pot of tea would go

down a treat, I expect, she said.
Altor nodded. As she busied herself with making
the tea, he looked around the room. You dont get
many caves like this.
You do around these parts, she said.
Altor took the tea. It had a pleasant aroma of ginger root and rose petals. The thought briefly crossed
his mind that it might be drugged. He was instantly
ashamed of himself. He looked up blushing, even
though the woman could hardly have known what he
was thinking.
I expect youre a bit wary after all your trouble with
the Magi and what-have-you, she said.
Altor realized at once that his suspicions were foolish. A warrior had to trust his instincts, and deep
down his instincts told him the woman meant them
no harm. Trust, Oraba had said. He sipped the tea. It
tasted delicious.
The old woman nodded to a big armchair by the
fire. Altor sat and yawned while she prepared a supper tray. When she brought it to him, he managed to
eat about half and then the days long journey began
to take its toll. He yawned again, stretching in the
warmth.
He was aware of the woman tucking a blanket
around him. He opened his eyes. Kind eyes looked
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down at his and for an instant Altor felt a twinge of

sadness. He had been reminded of the mother whom
he never knew.
Who are you? he said.
The woman smiled and looked at the crackling fire.
Altor followed her gaze. How often he had stared as a
child into the heart of the abbey fire and conjured up
images of far-off places in his minds eye. Now, gazing at the leaping flames, it was as if he were a child
again. Pictures seemed to form: a strange city with
crumbling walls, five meteors fleeing from the ruins
to hide among the stars. The meteors became grim
lordly faces. Then he saw a sword with a glittering
jewel on its pommel, from which the five lords turned
away scowling. Lastly there was a withered man with
a brittle stare, who clutched to his chest the hilt of a
broken sword.
Altor reached out sleepily. The images vanished,
leaving only flames.
Yes, murmured the woman soothingly. Some see
their dreams in fire. Others, sad to say, in ice...
As Altor drifted off, he imagined the woman younger, her face radiant and full of dignity and wisdom, her
gown of white samite glowing in the amber firelight.
He realized he had a hundred questions he had to ask
her, but by that time he was already asleep.
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***
Altor woke with a start. The woman was gone. The
fire had died down to a heap of glimmering coals. The
dull red light was faint, but bright enough for Altor
to see at a glance that the room had changed. The
cooking pots and kettle no longer hung above the fire,
which in fact no longer occupied a brick-lined hearth
but only a stone hollow at the back of the cave.
Altor rose and saw that instead of the soft armchair
he remembered he had been sleeping on a shelf of
rock. The cushions were pine needles wadded with
spider-silk, the blanket just strips of bark. Nearby,
Caelestis lay on a bed of moss. Altor nudged him
awake.
Caelestis stretched extravagantly. Top of the morning, Altor! He sat up, rubbed his eyes and looked
around. Er, it is morning, isnt it?
Altor went to the mouth of the cave. It was still
covered by a hide that hung from a lintel of rock. For
an instant he imagined the frost hounds waiting in
a silent band outside. Making sure his sword was to
hand, he flipped back the hide and put his head out.
Slowly drifting snowflakes fell, draping the thorn
forest in a fathomless hush. The scene was suffused
in a grey gloom that could have been dawn or dusk or
any time between.
145
Caelestis leaned out beside him and took a gulp of

crisp cold air. I have had a most invigorating sleep!
he declared. And the strangest dream. Do you know,
Altor, I think I must have been a little bit delirious
from the hounds bite when you brought me here last
night He paused, frowned, and looked back into
the cave. She was here. Im sure I didnt dream it.
If you did, we both had the same dream. And look,
your arm is bandaged.
Caelestis walked back across the cave flexing his
fingers. Its a little stiff, but there doesnt seem to be
any infection. Hello, what are these?
He picked up a handful of sharp curved icicles that
had not melted even though they lay right beside the
fire.
The frost hounds teeth, said Altor. Throw them
away, Caelestis theyre ungodly things.
Caelestis chuckled. Theyre my only souvenir of
a stroll in the forest of thorns! Anyway, I can probably get some service from the Faltyn in exchange for
them. He slipped them into his coat pocket along
with the chequers pieces and the jar of jeshroot ointment.
They set out again to the north. Around them the
thorns looked ragged and evil in the twilight, but
the sleep in the cave had put them in good spirits.
Caelestis even tried whistling, but the snow muffled
146
the notes and made the tune sound melancholy, so he

soon gave up. They trudged on in silence.
Bristling briars hung on either side of a path that
laced its way through the wood. The thorns at times
were poisoned black knives, at others fingers that
pointed the way. The snow had a stark grin, the wind
danced but carried a sting. The cold got under their
furs and showed itself to have an urgent caress. The
sky was an enormous shutter of lead.
How long have we been walking? said Caelestis
after a time.
Altor frowned, puzzled. I cant tell. Hours?
He hesitated. Was it hours since they left the cave,
or days?
Were out of the woods, said Caelestis.
They were on a barren moor sprinkled with thin
swathes of snow, walking in the direction of a lake
ringed by strange hunched crags. The water glistened
in the dreary twilight.
Looking back they could just make out the edge of
the thorn forest. Their journey through it seemed unreal, like a dream recalled on waking or the waking
world as glimpsed in dreams.
Their gaze dropped to the snow behind them. It
was unblemished, showing no sign of tracks leading
from the forests edge.
We dont leave any footprints! said Caelestis.
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Then this, said Altor, is the dreamworld.

They looked all around. For a dreamworld, the
landscape was featureless and drab. What Oraba had
told them was true. The Warlock King had stifled
mens dreams.
The question is, where is the Palace of Dusk?
wondered Altor.
Thats easy, said Caelestis, smiling at the simplicity of the idea that had just come to him. Were at
the heart of the dreamworld. All we have to do now
is wake up.
He reached out and pinched Altor on the back of
the hand, then did the same to himself.
Ouch, Altor protested.
Theres your Palace of Dusk, said Caelestis triumphantly.
And now it stood directly ahead of them, a brooding grey edifice of heavy arches and squat stone towers, built on an island in the middle of the lake. Three
massive covered bridges, each doubtless honeycombed
with corridors and chambers, stretched from the shore
to the central keep.
For each bridge there was a gate. With difficulty
Altor read the ancient inscriptions above them: Confusion, Dismay and Death...
Cheery sentiments, said Caelestis with contempt.
If I should ever become a mad warlock I hope Ill
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have a more imaginative line in door-plates.

Altor was too preoccupied with the three gates to
notice Caelestiss mordant humour. We have to make
a choice, he said. Death?
Why not? Fortune favours the bold, after all. After
you.
Altor drew his sword and stepped through the
gate. Instantly it fell with a clang, sealing him inside.
Caelestis peered in through the bars but he could see
nothing but indelible darkness.
Altor! he shouted. He was answered by silence.
Stepping back, Caelestis rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. There was no way through the Gate of Death.
Still, they all lead to the same place, he said aloud,
finding some comfort in the sound of his voice. Well
no doubt meet up somewhere in the Palace.
There were too gates left to choose from. To take
Dismay was surely tempting fate, but Caelestis liked
the sound of Confusion even less. His choice made,
he strode onto the bridge and the portcullis snapped
shut behind him like a trap.
Caelestis found himself walking along a gallery that
stretched as far as he could see. To his right ran a line
of bronze-framed mirrors in which he saw himself reflected, and also the reflections of bizarre and frightening portraits that seemed to hang on the left-hand
wall. When he looked to the left, however, he found
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mirrors hanging there which seemed to reflect a row

of portraits along the right-hand wall.
I think Im more confused than dismayed, said
Caelestis, wondering if the Warlock King could hear
him. Perhaps the inscriptions had got mixed up.
The gallery was thickly carpeted, swathed in silence.
Caelestis, who normally liked a place where he could
move stealthily, found himself becoming uneasy. As
he progressed the faces of the portraits become more
alarming, their stares seeming to follow him along the
gallery. He was relieved to emerge at last onto steps
that led down to an open courtyard.
A bitterly chill wind had whipped up, making the
bare trees sway against a star-dusted sky. Across the
courtyard, a faint glimmer of lamplight escaped from
narrow mullioned windows.
Caelestis started down the steps and then froze
and pressed himself flat against the wall. Someone
was coming. Bolts grated back, a door opened on the
other side of the courtyard and an eerie procession
emerged. Seven pallbearers in cowls like witches hats
carried a shrouded body on a bier.
Caelestis stared down in horror but the seven took
no notice of him. They slowly bore the bier to the
centre of the courtyard and there set it carefully on the
flagstones. Then each took a tall black candle and lit
it and these they placed around the body on the bier.
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That done, they filed back the way they had come and
the door boomed shut behind them.
Caelestis waited with a thief s patience until he was
sure they had gone before descending the steps. The
wind was fierce by now and had a stormy scent. It
howled through the turrets of the Palace, it whipped
at his clothes and tugged the sheet on the bier. But
the black candles burned steadily.
More confusion? said Caelestis under his breath.
He didnt like to speak aloud now. For some reason he
was sure the Warlock King was listening.
After a leery glance at the shrouded body he had
intended to pass by. After three steps, though, curiosity got the better of him. Returning to the side of
the bier, he gingerly reached out and took hold of the
hem of the shroud.
For an instant he hesitated with tongue between
his teeth. What horrific sight might confront him if
he pulled back the sheet? But if the Warlock King
really was watching him, this was something he was
meant to see. And how bad could a corpse be that was
freshly prepared for burial?
He whipped away the shroud. At the same instant
a spear of lightning flashed across the sky, turning the
shadow-draped courtyard ablaze with light.
Caelestis gave a gasp and dropped to his knees beside the bier.
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The figure lying there was Altor. And he was

dead.
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Chapter 13
The King of
Wyrd
is thoughts in turmoil, Caelestis fumbled for

a pulse. Finding none, he leaned across the
body and listened for any faint beating of
the heart, any breath no matter how shallow.
Not the slightest spark of life remained. Aghast,
Caelestis drew back and shook his head in shock.
Rather than giving in to grief, he forced himself to
consider the facts logically. There was no mark on the
body, but Altors skin was drained of colour. What
could have slain him, so swiftly that there wasnt even
an expression of surprise on his face?
With grim deliberation Caelestis turned the ring
on his finger. Lightning flashed again, and the Faltyn
stepped out of the darkness that flooded after it.
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Heres a sorry sight, said the Faltyn without sympathy. A hero lacking life. Still, it is the earnest wish
of all heroes to fall in the right cause. We should feel
happy on his behalf especially since he, bereft of being, has no longer happiness to spare.
Caelestis had no spirit left to chide the Faltyn. How
did he die? he said bleakly. Is the Warlock King so
powerful?
Not while you possess the pommel stone. It means
he can only kill you through his servants.
Caelestis groaned. We were fools to come here, Altor! What are we? Two wanderers barely more than
boys! We were no match for the Warlock King.
The Faltyn smiled. It was your friends own choice.
He willingly entered by the gate of Death.
Caelestis whirled, suddenly savage as a desperate
idea leapt into his brain. Use your magic! Restore
him to life! See these magic trinkets ? He pulled
the chequers pieces and frost hounds teeth from his
pocket. All yours if you resurrect my friend.
The Faltyn shook its head. Thats far beyond my
means. In all Creation, only One can conquer Death.
His power is the brightest of flames, mine the merest
spark. Pagan creature that I am, I may not even speak
His name.
Caelestis sagged, his last hope dashed. Supporting
himself on the bier he looked sadly down at Altor,
154
who seemed so peaceful that he might almost have

been asleep.
Sleep and Death, in legend, are brothers. I only
hope you knew, Altor, that I had come to regard
you
He broke off as his hands, thrust disconsolately in
his pockets, encountered the smooth ceramic jar that
held the last of the jeshroot salve. He slowly took it
out and looked up at the Faltyn, open-mouthed as
if hardly daring to voice the idea that had come to
him.
You look like a fish, remarked the Faltyn.
Caelestis cleared his throat. This ointment... it can
heal anyone, even if theyre at the point of death?
The jeshroot sprouts once in a hundred years, and
is magical only then if collected when certain stars are
in the sky. It has miraculous properties, therefore. But
it cannot restore the dead to life.
Caelestis wagged his finger impatiently. You said....
You said your power was a spark. If God is a flame,
you are a spark. Is that right?
True, I employed such a metaphor for rhetorical
effect. The Faltyn frowned. I fail to see what youre
driving at.
You owe me a small service, said Caelestis. Ill
have it now, then. Put the merest spark of life back
in Altors body.
155
The Faltyn cocked one eyebrow. It would only be

for an infinitesimal time. He would not even draw
breath before the spark faded again. Why trouble his
soul on its journey to the next life for so little purpose?
Caelestis seized Altors lifeless arm and felt for the
vein in his wrist. Hes not even cold yet. Do it!
The Faltyn shrugged and drifted around to the
head of the bier. Leaning over the body, it placed its
blue lips on Altors. Caelestis saw a spark, just as faint
as an ember in a bed of cinders.
The Faltyn lifted its head with a smile. There. Its
done.
Altors eyelids fluttered. The vein throbbed once
under Caelestiss fingers.
Instantly he reached out with his other hand and
poured the last of the salve into Altors mouth.
Yieeee! Altor instantly gave a terrified shout and
sat up. After a second he stopped screaming, blinked
in puzzlement and looked at Caelestis. Why are you
sitting there on the ground?
I had a bit of a shock. Caelestis got to his feet, still
trembling.
Altor swung his legs off the bier. What happened?
I went through the gate.... Someone else was there!
Caelestis, it was the goddess Hela! You remember
when we were in the Battlepits, and she came to
156
claim Imragarns soul? She looked like a monster, but

I said that in myth she has two faces? Its true, at the
moment she touched me I thought she was beautiful. Altor looked down at his hands. Shouldnt I be
dead?
Caelestis held up the empty jar. Luckily I still had
an ace up my sleeve. Or in my pocket, rather.
You used the last of the ointment? But it was worth
a kings ransom!
Dont be stupid, said Caelestis, tossing away the
jar. I think I got a bargain.
The Faltyn whistled in boredom. I will return to
the ring, if you are quite done with me. Note that I
have now performed the small service that was still
owed.
Caelestis nodded, and it disappeared in a swirl of
lambent blue vapour.
Altor had risen from the bier and, flexing his muscles, swung his sword a couple of times in the air to
limber up. Im lucky you got to me before it was too
late, he said.
Caelestis briefly considered telling his friend the
full story that he hadnt been in time, that Hela had
claimed her victim, and Altors vital spark had been
restored by the Faltyns magic. But the Faltyn was a
pagan creature, as it had itself said, and Altor was a
monk-in-training. Caelestis doubted if he would be
157
comfortable knowing that even the tiniest part of his

life-essence had come from a transfusion out of the
Faltyns veins.
Yes, you were lucky, was all he said.
A passage led off the far side of the courtyard. The
pair advanced along it, Altor leading the way. His
sword glimmered with soft grey light that penetrated only a few steps ahead into the gloom. Cracked
flagstones tilted underfoot, sending the grubs and
insects that sheltered there scurrying. Their tiny legs
made scritching sounds on the stone and their wings
whirred in the air, eerily magnified by the closeness of
the passage walls.
The passage ended in a flight of steps, smoothworn and carpeted with moss. Dead ivy formed a rope
around the balustrade. As they were about to go up,
Caelestis heard a sound that made his hair stand on
end. A loose flagstone just behind him had given out
an ominous clunk.
He froze, then whirled and stabbed with his
sword.
What was that? said Altor, looking back.
Caelestis stood dumbfounded. His sword had met
only empty air. There was no-one behind him after
all.
Greetings, said a voice on the stairs.
They looked round, startled. Standing on the
158
bottom step was a figure wrapped entirely in black,

even across his face. Both were sure he had not been
there a moment earlier.
If you will come with me, said the man in black,
His Majesty is ready to see you now.
They followed the man up the steps and between
two soaring columns into a chamber whose ceiling
sparkled with glints of mosaic high above their heads.
Faces of cold chiselled marble gazed disdainfully from
the walls. The floor was thick with grey dust, a dry
pool that swirled away in thick ripples as they crossed
the room to reveal polished black flagstones that had
perhaps been covered up for centuries.
At the edge of vision, figures seemed to dance to
the steps of a slow pavane. But they were no more
than grey flitting forms, not real enough to show when
looked on squarely. Whenever Altor and Caelestis
turned to look, wherever they had thought to see a
dancer there was just a long draping of cobweb silk
undulating weightlessly in the air.
The dust rose, darkening what little light there
was. The man who led the way became just a shadow
against the haze.
Where are we going? said Caelestis.
They waited a long time for him to answer, and his
159
reply when it came seemed to issue from so far away

that they could barely hear it:
To a place that shines nowhere but in the dark, and
where the day is invisible and dim.
The outlines of the vast chamber faded, blurred by
the fog of dust. The man in black was swallowed entirely in the haze. For a time they walked in nothingness, an indistinct infinity.
Sounds came out of the mist the distant clash
of swords, wooden shields bitten by sharp steel, the
groans of dying men.
Gradually these sounds faded, replaced by a steady
incessant thudding that was like the pulse of a gigantic heart. Relentless and rhythmic, it grew closer
louder until they were almost deafened.
A scene began to form, quite suddenly as if it were
a theatre being assembled by magical stagehands. Altor and Caelestis stood dazzled in a blaze of light. An
arena now rose on all sides, and the noise they had
imagined to be a huge heartbeat revealed itself to be
the cacophanous chanting of a crowd.
Except that there was no crowd. The terraces were
empty. They were alone in the arena.
No, not quite alone. At the far end, above the tiers
of seats, was a royal dais where a gleam of light outlined an old man standing there, a person of sneering
lip and baleful eye.
160
The old man raised his glowing staff and the chant
lulled to a sinister murmuring. Now he was lit in stark
relief and Altor and Caelestis found their eyes drawn
to him. Despite the distance they could see every fold
of his robe, every deep wrinkle in his sallow face. The
rest of the scene became cloudy and dim.
Blazing on his brow was a crown of crystal or of ice,
and around his neck hung the hilt of a broken sword.
The Warlock King... said Altor.
The Warlock King nodded once. Then he spoke,
and his creaking voice silenced the last hushed murmurs of the invisible crowd:
This is the realm of Wyrd, where I have for centuries ruled. You have presumed to invade the boundaries of my sovereign land. Into my Palace of Dusk
Unending have you entered, perhaps with murderous
intent...
Caelestis opened his mouth to reply, but the Warlock Kings stare silenced him as he went on: Such
foolishness! Think you that others have not dreamt of
my death? A rightful ruler is never without foes. And
where are those hopeful assassins now, those wouldbe murderers who hoped to bury their blades in my
royal heart? This is the answer: from their disloyal
dreams they never woke. Their eyes stayed shut and
their bodies slid easily out of sleep and into death.
And their souls? Those Ive kept mewed here with
161
me. They come now to teach you the lesson they have
learned...
The Warlock King frowned and spread his hands.
There were sounds again, but this time not the
roars and shouts of unseen spectators. This was a forlorn whispering like wind in a graveyard. And it did
not come from the terraces.
It came from under the ground.
Out of the grey sand of the arena floor poked
something hard and ivory-white. A hand. It twitched,
finding purchase for its grip, and the sand shifted as a
skeletal figure heaved into view.
Altor and Caelestis drew back, but there were others all around. Mounds appeared in the sand and
broke apart, uncovering things long buried under the
arena floor bony limbs that twitched and came to
life. Skeletons in rusty armour clawed their way up
to the light, more and more of them spilling out into
the open until a numberless throng stood on the grey
sand.
Caelestis and Altor slowly looked around. In all directions they met the gaze of hollow eyes.
The Warlock King stretched out his arm, thumb
pointed downwards.
My decree, he said, is that you die.
162
Chapter 14
The
Awakening
he skeletal army began to shuffle forwards,

swords glinting under a coating of rust like
dried blood. There were hundreds of them
far too many to fight. Caelestis nervously adjusted his
grip on his own sword and glanced across at Altor. He
had been about to say farewell, but stopped in surprise
when he saw Altor staring at him open-mouthed.
What is it?
Altor pointed at Caelestiss coat. Your pockets
theyre glowing!
Caelestis looked down. It was true. He shoved his
hand deep into one pocket and pulled out the chequers pieces he had taken from the elves. They sat in
his palm, pulsing with bright green light.
163
What was it the elf lord said? When you contend

against the final foe, this sorcery of mine shall aid
you. Did he mean now?
Altor parried the attack of the first of the skeleton
warriors. I dont think therell be a better time! he
yelled.
Caelestis caught the scent of pine and woodland
blossom. On impulse he scattered the pieces and
jumped back as they hit the ground and erupted in
bursts of blinding light.
The light formed solid shapes. Horses snorted,
stamping the dust. There was the jangle of spurs and
metal harnesses. A warriors horn blew a stirring call
to arms.
The playing pieces had been transformed into elven knights astride sleek white steeds. Horses and
riders alike were caparisoned in vivid green, and their
weapons and the fittings of their harness were not of
iron but sparkling silver.
The Warlock King snorted at this sorcery. Fay
fighters! he laughed coldly. My troops have no fear
of elfin blades...
But they saw that despite his words his brow was
now furrowed in consternation. Perhaps he was not
sure his power was great enough to deal with the elf
lords knights.
Your other pocket too! urged Altor.
164
Caelestis hurled down the frost hounds teeth as

well. As they touched the sand of the arena there was
a hissing sound. Caelestis and Altor took a step back.
The teeth exuded an icy blue halo that swiftly formed
into a host of man-like shapes. As the glow faded,
they discovered that a hundred wiry creatures now
stood between them and the oncoming skeletons.
The creatures had blue-white skin and, although their
bodies were the bodies of men, it was hounds heads
that sat upon their shoulders.
The dog-men growled at the band of skeletons
confronting them. The captain of the elven knights
lowered his horn and said, These men of bone have
no place in the world! Dead they are, and in their
graves should lie. Well straight way send them there,
and teach dead men to die.
He looked to Caelestis. Apparently they think
youre their leader, said Altor wryly.
I dont know anything about tactics! You give the
order.
Altor called to their forces to close ranks and advance. Deploy in a wedge, he commanded. Cut us a
path to the Warlock Kings throne!
Together the elves and dog-men outnumbered the
Warlock Kings army, but the skeletons had advantages of their own. They had no fear of death, felt no
fatigue and were immune to pain. Nonetheless, as the
165
two armies clashed Altor and Caelestis were confident of winning the day.
Their army stormed forward towards the skeletons.
The first wave of the charge broke the undead ranks,
and in moments old bones were trampled underfoot
in the press of the melee. A skull, severed at the neck
by the mighty stroke of an elf knights sword, came
flying through the air and landed at Altors feet. He
kicked it aside and strode towards the far end of the
arena where the Warlock King stood on his dais.
A band of skeletons managed to fight free of the
battle and scurried to intercept the two heroes. Altor
had no time to waste on them. He gave a great roar
and his sword flashed like a scythe of flame. Ancient
rib-cages burst, bones and rusty armour fell clattering
to the dust. Caelestis caught up in time to skewer a
skeleton that was about to leap on Altors back. Twisting his sword, he snapped its spine. It fell twitching
feebly in the dust.
Altor reached the steps and with measured tread
ascended to the royal dais. He stood face to face with
their foe. There was a long silence and then Altor
pointed with his sword at the hilt around the Warlock Kings neck.
This has been entrusted to us, this fragment of the
Sword of Life, he said, and now we have come to
claim it.
166
The Warlock King fixed Altor with a bitter glare

but did not seem perturbed. These games have gone
on long enough, he shrieked. Now, behold the power
of the King of Wyrd!
He brought his thin old hands together and a thunderous crack split the air. Like a breaking mirror, the
scene around them shivered and then exploded into a
million fragments.
Everything had changed in an instant. Altor and
Caelestis found themselves dangling from a rod of
cold metal in a place where the wind whistled harsh
and hard.
They took in their surroundings with mounting
awe. The rod they clung to was part of a network of
metal rails, like a giant web of steel. There was nothing else. Around them, they could see only a limitless
blue haze that extended in all directions.
Altor looked down in spite of himself. In the far
distance he made out white wisps against the blue and
realized they were clouds.
In the heart of the metal web sat the Warlock King.
His huge crystal throne gleamed against the sky. The
crystal crown on his ancient brow turned the pale
daylight into icy shards.
He touched the sword-hilt that hung around his
neck on a silver cord, his face twisting into a sour
smile. You came to take this talisman, but its too pre167
cious to let go. Even one piece of the Sword of Life

is enough to guarantee my sovereignty from the Five.
With the pommel stone too it might prove even more
powerful...
Altor shook his head. Holding onto the rod with
one hand, he sheathed his sword. Then he reached
into his pocket and brought out the pommel stone.
In the bleak light it made sparks of rich dark colour.
Ill give you the same answer I gave White Lights
minion: Id sooner throw the stone away than give it
to you.
The Warlock King gave a mirthless laugh. Do so
if you wish. We are in the Dream of Wyrd, where I
hold absolute sway. Since I can shape this world to my
whim, the stone would only fall into my hands.
Altor thought for a moment. The Warlock King
might be bluffing. Any ideas? he called to Caelestis.
Not a one, Im afraid.
Altor let go of the pommel stone. It fell a few metres, then the air twisted inside out. The stone winked
out of sight and reappeared on the steps of the Warlock Kings throne.
As the Warlock King reached for it, Altor swung
on the rod, let go and fell to catch hold of another. He
tried not to think of the impossible distance he would
fall if he lost his grip. Moving swiftly hand over hand,
he reached the foot of the throne. The Warlock King
168
paused in the act of fixing the pommel stone to the

hilt and gave Altor a look of indignant rage.
Altor drew his sword. He took one step up towards
his foe before his legs went numb. He looked down
and saw with horror that they had turned to polished
white marble.
You understand nothing, said the Warlock King.
Here in the Dream, I am a god.
Caelestis was watching all this from the rod where
he was dangling. He couldnt think of anything that
would work against the Warlock King, but he did not
intend simply to hang there waiting for the end. Pulling himself up, he climbed onto the rod and balanced
there a few seconds, then with his arms stretched out
on either side he began to edge along it.
As he reached a junction of two rods and transferred his weight, his foot slipped. He fell with a cry
and caught hold of the rod. The Warlock King looked
up and sneered. Youre no more threat than a monkey,
stripling. Come here to my throne. Ill turn you to
stone alongside your friend.
There was a dull thud as something in Caelestis
pocket clanked against the rod. He suddenly smiled,
remembering, and took it out. It was the iron bell
Oraba had given him.
The look on the Warlock Kings face changed from
contempt to fear.
169
Caelestis rang the bell.

As each knell resounded, deep cracks appeared
across the crystal throne.
The Warlock King pressed his hands to his ears.
Stop that! he screamed. I command you to stop!
Countless images flitted out of the breaking throne
and whirled through the sky around Caelestis. There
were faces laughing, sad, fearful, wary. Scenes of
sunlight and snow, green fields and golden deserts
and seascapes drained of colour. Sounds and scents.
He ignored them all and continued to shake the bell
with all his strength.
Suddenly the Warlock Kings arms dropped to his
sides. Its over, he said. And with that, the crystal
crown he wore burst into a thousand shards.
Caelestis was lying on the ground beside a lake. There
were a few patches of melting snow but in most places
sprouted fresh green grass, like the very last day of
winter. Or the first day of spring.
He sat up and looked around. The lake looked familiar very like the one where the Palace of Dusk
had stood. But instead of the proud citadel they had
entered, there was only a broken and weathered ruin
overgrown with a profusion of ivy. And, whereas the
lake before had seemed stagnant and foul, now it was
170
clear, fresh, sparkling in the sunlight.

Caelestis shook his head. He felt as if hed just
woken up from a long dream. If that was the same
lake, then behind him should be the Forest of Thorns.
He turned his head, but the soaring pine trees along
the horizon bore no resemblance to the evil briars he
remembered.
Altor was lying nearby. Before I sit up I want to ask
you something, he said. Do my legs look like stone
to you?
No, said Caelestis. Theyre flesh and blood all
right.
Altor sighed. Then it must have been a dream.
A shadow fell across them in the warming sun. A
woman with a gentle smile and wise eyes stood there,
leading a dazed old man by the hand.
Altor and Caelestis got to their feet.
Dont I know you? said Altor.
Weve met in your memory, said the old woman.
Thats all that matters.
She took something from around the old mans
neck and handed it to Altor. The old man looked befuddled at first, but then he broke into a delighted
smile.
Altor took the object and stared at it. It was the
jewelled hilt of the Sword of Life, now with the pommel stone set atop it. He looked up to thank her, but
171
she and the old man were already walking away across
the lush grass.
I dont get it, he said. Did we kill the Warlock
King or not?
Better than that, I think, said Caelestis as he
watched the woman lead the old man away. We set
him free.
They returned southwards and everywhere it was
the same story. The country of Wyrd seemed to have
awakened at last from out of a nightmare. People no
longer dreamed of a dark figure who ruled over them
without joy. Their nights now were untroubled by
cares, and sleep was no longer a thing to be feared.
Last night we laid down our heads in a world of
poverty and pain, said Shanans, greeting them when
they got back to his village. Now we have awakened
into a verdant and bountiful land. The Warlock Kings
officials have cast their armour and judicial maces into
the ditches to rust. Tonight there will be laughter and
song such as there has not been in Wyrd for twenty
lifetimes!
Later, as they sat outside beside a roaring fire and
roasted chestnuts in the dusk, Caelestis and Altor saw
Oraba strolling through the pine trees by the village.
Excusing themselves from the party, they dodged between the happy dancing villages and climbed the hill
to where she stood.
172
Its a dance to appease the spirits of winter, said

Oraba, looking down to the fire. In past years, when
the winter was bleak and cold, the festival was a grim
one.
Caelestis looked around. The smell of pine smoke
wafted on the evening air. Now its rather a pleasant
night, he said.
Oraba nodded. Night and winter no longer seem
terrible. You have been the saviours of our land.
Altor fingered the hilt that now hung around his
neck. We are glad to have helped your people, he
said, but our own quest is far from over. The Sword of
Life is not complete. We still need to find the blade.
I cannot look into the future, said Oraba. Those
powers are gone now. When the Warlock Kings tyranny ended, so did my own magic and those of all the
other seers.
Im sorry to hear that, said Caelestis.
She laughed. Dont be. I dont need to see the future; Im content with the present. But on that day
you set out from here, I had a last dream of things yet
to be...
They waited. At last the suspense grew to much for
Altor to bear. Did you dream of the blade? he asked.
I saw it in the far south a city of spires and domes
beside an azure bay. But...
But what?
173
The blade is there, but its not there that youll find
it. In my dreams I saw you both lost in the land of the
dead.
TO BE CONTINUED
174
The world of Altor and Caelestis is the world of Legend, a fantastic medieval land filled with adventure,
peril, mythic heroes and their implacable enemies.
From Wyrd in the frozen north to the baked lands
of Khitai, its a place of endless challenge, danger and
excitement.
The Dragon Warriors role-playing game lets you
explore Legend as one of its heroesa chivalrous
knight, a rugged barbarian, a master of sorcery, a mystic trained to fight with mind and body, and many
others. The rulebook contains everything you need to
play except a set of dice and a group of players, a bestiary details the foul and monstrous inhabitants of the
world, sourcebooks describe Legend and its cultures
in depth, and adventure-books give your group the
blueprint for their own epic stories.
Will you accept the challenge of Dragon Warriors?
Dragon Warriors is available from all good games shops,
direct from Mongoose Publishing Ltd, or downloadable in
digital form from www.drivethrurpg.com
175

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Pierre-Eric Raby (order #2198046)

The Chronicles of the Magi

Pierre-Eric Raby (order #2198046)

Pierre-Eric Raby (order #2198046)

William Butler Yeats

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cant believe what Im hearing! What in heavens

Pierre-Eric Raby (order #2198046)

and we must take the same vows of chivalry that bind

Pierre-Eric Raby (order #2198046)

like you. Though old and broken now, I was a straight

Pierre-Eric Raby (order #2198046)

Pierre-Eric Raby (order #2198046)

group of peasants beginning their hard days toil in

Pierre-Eric Raby (order #2198046)

Pierre-Eric Raby (order #2198046)

followed cautiously, treading with great stealth up a

Pierre-Eric Raby (order #2198046)

neither he nor my friend are in much of a mood to

Pierre-Eric Raby (order #2198046)

Pierre-Eric Raby (order #2198046)

Pierre-Eric Raby (order #2198046)

Her eyes flashed with anger. So be it.

Pierre-Eric Raby (order #2198046)

attacks forever. Altor with his sturdy magic sword at

Pierre-Eric Raby (order #2198046)

Pierre-Eric Raby (order #2198046)

by some miracle it stayed upright. The other began to

Pierre-Eric Raby (order #2198046)

evil scowl, it fell with a crunch to the flagstones.

Pierre-Eric Raby (order #2198046)

Now my brothers soul can rest in peace, he said.

Pierre-Eric Raby (order #2198046)

one point. Caelestis waited a few seconds while his

Pierre-Eric Raby (order #2198046)

Its her ! gasped Caelestis, the words catching in

Pierre-Eric Raby (order #2198046)

the flutter of a heartbeat! He turned to them, his old

Pierre-Eric Raby (order #2198046)

travels only recently only to discover the evil acts the

Pierre-Eric Raby (order #2198046)

It meant nothing to Caelestis and Altor. Seeing

Pierre-Eric Raby (order #2198046)

Or not. Well never know now.

Pierre-Eric Raby (order #2198046)

ets face facts, said Caelestis. Were lost.

Pierre-Eric Raby (order #2198046)

Pierre-Eric Raby (order #2198046)

Pierre-Eric Raby (order #2198046)

Pierre-Eric Raby (order #2198046)

I have a bad feeling about this, said Caelestis.

Pierre-Eric Raby (order #2198046)

felt its gaze sweep over their hiding-place.

Pierre-Eric Raby (order #2198046)

fell to earth, they stopped. Nothing stirred in the

Pierre-Eric Raby (order #2198046)

then bounded off between the trees.

Pierre-Eric Raby (order #2198046)

creature. It turned, skinless jaws gaping to spill loamy

Pierre-Eric Raby (order #2198046)

Pierre-Eric Raby (order #2198046)