Greywolf

  Greywolf’s throat had gone dry as dust. "I... yes, we're here to kill them all. I mean, I'm pretty sure we won't be able to burn anyone's entrails, but we can't leave any of them alive."

  "Our mission will fail if we don't," Karl added from behind me.

  She gave them a ghastly smile. "Then my suffering has not been in vain. I am Cermet, a priestess... was a priestess, of this temple, part of the sisterhood dedicated to the Necromantic Arts. We are... were, the sisters who protested the degradation of our worship at the hands of Muzen, High Priest of Yun-Kax. In response, those we trusted descended upon us across the empire like dogs. My body was defiled until death approached, and then I was thrown into a charnel pit to rot, denying me the clean death of stone knives under a new moon.

  "But I am... was, a priestess of the Dark Arts, and as I felt death touch me, I reached out with my mind and gathered up as much power from the Grey as I could hold. Then cast the terrible spell of unlife upon myself, becoming the creature Ghash-Kimil warned us never to become. Tell me, Walker-in-the-shadows, do you know what it means to be a Lich?"

  "He does not understand," Lys' voice called out from behind me, "but I do." Glancing back, the Turtle formation had reached the entrance, and Lys was riding on Prince Timur's shoulder as he approached. He stopped, an expression of fear on his face as she hopped off. "My prince, pass the word back to hold up for a little bit. One way or another this should not take long." Timur seemed more than happy to do so, his face back in a snarling mask as he began giving orders to the warriors in their harsh language.

  Greywolf was more than happy to step to the side with Karl, both of them standing with their backs against the stone wall as Lys walked up in front of the dead woman. The eyebrows on Cermet’s rotted out face lifted in surprise. "This cannot be. Fae of the Necromantic Arts are all supposed to have been destroyed by their sisters."

  "It was a near thing," Lys replied. "I never realized humans could undergo the same rite-of-passage that I plan to undertake when my death approaches."

  That ghastly smile came again. "Ghash-Kimil taught us the rite as a way of raising Revenants that are stronger than the raised dead, but forbade us to ever cast it upon ourselves. Woe be unto them, Ghash-Kimil, for all of my sisterhood knows this rite, and a few are... were, strong enough to use it. If they dared."

  Lys had a calculating expression on her face as she folded her stick thin arms across her armored chest. "What is it you want, priestess? Revenge on these priests and on Muzen? Because you will have it once we are done."

  Tangled black hair whipped about as she shook her head. "Revenge upon both is not enough. I want revenge upon Ghash-Kimil themselves."

  "I thought you might." Lys glanced back to where Prince Timur had rejoined us, his face a stoic mask as he kept himself well back, and lowered her voice. "I serve Khan Khingla now, who only desires peace with the Sasnayams, yet if his son Timur should become Khan after the old man's death, he will declare war upon them by any and all means. If he does, then I will return to help you out of the charnel pit, and together—”

  "No, Fae of the Dark Arts, you need my help now if you wish this attack to succeed. Corpse-eater beetles became my eyes and ears as I waited patiently down in the charnel pits, and now that you are here, certain things I heard from them are finally making sense. The temple priests and the Fae of Winter will easily fall into your hands, but once you leave this temple, the night will end in disaster... unless you pull me out of the charnel pits and command me to serve you."

  Lys' expression had turned suspicious. "Yrg is here?"

  "She is with most of the priests in a secret room, gorging herself upon an acolyte sacrificed for the other temple's ambitions. The few remaining priests are tormenting a priestess-spy of the Temple of Ix-Chel, who was caught waiting near the tentacles of the Grey, gathered into the form of a tree."

  Greywolf sucked in his breath. "Is it Ishi?"

  The dead woman shrugged. "Perhaps. The two Revenants holding her are being controlled by two priests, and they will not attack until you have restored your group back into the real world. Be ready, though, for once you roll back the Grey, they will turn on you, Walker-in-the-shadows, whether the priests controlling them are alive or dead."

  "When we control the temple," Lys asked, "what will happen?"

  "Once I am free of the charnel pits and have become your servant, ask me that question again and I will answer."

  "You will not fight me for control?"

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  "No, Fae of the Dark Arts, I will not. I live... unlive, to serve, just as you do."

  The calculating look returned to Lys' face. "Show me where this secret room is, then the way to the charnel pits."

  "Shadow Fae," Kula's harsh voice said from behind us, "you don't mean to bind this foul creature and bring it back to our encampment, do you?"

  War-leader Kula was standing beside Prince Timur, the scowl on his face growing deeper as Lys turned around and put her hands on her fragile-looking hips. "If binding this priestess means the difference between Khan Khingla getting the kingdom he wants and the death of his dream, then I will not hesitate. Once she becomes my servant, she will follow my commands and do nothing on her own." Lys waved her stick thin arm in the dead woman's direction. "She will not even smell once I renew the preservation spell."

  "It would be a good thing to be clean again and not dressed in rags."

  Greywolf gave her an incredulous look. "But... you're dead."

  She turned, and he tried not to shudder at the rotted out face. "Dead or not, Lich or not, I am still a woman." She turned towards Lys. "Come, I will show you the secret room and then the pits."

  "I will come as well," Kula growled. "Prince Timur, investigate the area where the dead tree is, and don't let Greywolf put us back into the real world until I give the signal." Prince Timur nodded and Kula turned towards those behind him. "Bring everyone into the pyramid but remain on the ground level until I begin giving orders. Titan, bring Avitohol's blood brother and follow me."

  In the corridor, harsh voices began giving orders as Titan moved into view with the young boy with him, the two of them joining Kula as Lys leaped up onto Karl's shoulder. Cermet was already walking along a side corridor towards a set of stairs leading down into the earth.

  As Karl and Lys followed with the other three behind, Amazonia and her men joined the prince along with his two Bloodguards. "Shadow-walker," Prince Timur said in a gruff voice, "do you know where this dead tree is?" Greywolf motioned farther down the corridor with the tip of his katana, and Timur sneered, "Can I trust you to lead us to it and not do something that will get us all killed?"

  "I'm not stupid," Greywolf snapped back at him.

  Shite, he's smiling. He just wanted to get a rise out of me. "Others may believe you aren't,” Prince Timur said, “but I know the truth. Lead the way... if you can."

  Keep your temper, don't let him goad you into something idiotic. Greywolf started down the corridor without looking to see if they were following or not, though the sounds of sandals scraping on stone and muffled cursing had begun behind him. There were more side passages leading to stairs going down into the earth, but the scent of the Grey was getting stronger the deeper into the temple they went.

  Just ahead, the passage widened into a square chamber, with shadowy figures standing around dozens of grey tentacles like questing snakes, all pushed together into the shape of a large plant as tall as Titan. The tendrils in the center of the chamber were active, and as Greywolf entered the room, they moved their free ends toward him as much as they could until all were pointing in his direction. "What in Hades' name is that?"

  Greywolf glanced back at Amazonia. "That's what the dead, grey tree looks like from the inside. The tendrils won't hurt you if you touch one, since you're already in the Shadowlands, but it will feel strange." Two dead men were standing on the far side of the chamber, moving as slowly as the shadowy men in robes around them, their ugly faces filled with unholy glee at the woman being gripped by dead hands. The dead men seemed to be ripping off her clothing as she screamed. Greywolf moved around them to get a look at the woman's face. "It's Ishi, just like I thought."

  Prince Timur called out, "Will these dead come to life like the others did?"

  Greywolf shook his head as he began giving the two a closer look. "They would've already done so." The two had a shadowy nature the dead never had in the Grey, letting him see the faint lines of power inside them. "In the Shadowlands, the dead normally have sinews given to them by the Grey, but these have sinews that are black. I wonder..." Greywolf spent a bit of time examining the men in robes while the others talked in low voices among themselves.

  As he crouched down beside one of the priests, as they had to be, Amazonia crouched down beside him. "What do you see?"

  With the tip of the katana, Greywolf traced a thick black line inside the shadowy figure. "Do you see this? It's the core of power that shows up whenever someone's using magic. If you look close," tracing it down one arm to his hand, "the power extends outward to one of the dead men."

  Amazonia frowned. "I don't see any lines connecting the two."

  "We won't, because when the power leaves the mage's hand it goes out like a spray, making the lines too faint to see. But look here," Amazonia standing up beside Greywolf as he rose, "to where his heart is. Do you see the faint lines extending outward?"

  She leaned in close. "They look grey."

  "That's right." Greywolf didn't bother to keep the excitement out of his voice at this new discovery. "The mana nodes on the man's heart are drawing in power from the Grey, which then gets converted somehow into power he can use." He looked up at her. "This proves Lys was absolutely right."

  "Speaking of Lys," Dancer called out from the entrance to the chamber, "Karl's coming."

  Everyone turned towards the chamber opening as the slap of war sandals on stone grew louder. "My prince," Karl said as he got close, "everyone's in position. I'm to yell out the countdown once you're ready."

  Was that a flash of embarrassment I just saw on Prince Timur's face?" All of you choose someone to kill," he snarled, "and make sure you get them on the first thrust or swing. Karl, did you find Yrg?"

  "She's in a room surrounded by laughing priests, eating a bald guy's liver as he screams." Karl shook his head. "Lys has been waiting a long time for this day." Greywolf positioned himself beside the tendrils while Amazonia directed the others until everyone's weapon was pointed at a robed priest. "Greywolf, you ready?"

  Greywolf nodded. "But how’s anyone going to hear you?"

  "Cermet's got that covered. Okay, here we go. Four..."

  From all over the temple, the dead called back, "Four..."

  Karl went silent as the voices continued, "Three..."

  "Two... One..."

  Karl yelled, "Now!" Greywolf put his hand onto the mass of tendrils and pulled them back into the real world.