"Blackstone 2: Dark Tide Rising/ Part 1" by Michael D. Mundwiller

Prologue

A cold winter's night fell on the deserted castle. No one had dared to re-enter the great city since its betrayal, fearing that there was some spell left by its last lord. Now, as the silence of the dead was amplified by the growing shadows of night, alone figure moved purposefully through its halls.

Much had changed since he was last here. Bodies of the dead were now only skeletons, stripped clean by the rodents and vermin that filled the palace after it was abandoned. Cobwebs had filled the corners and spiders built their webs across openings to long empty rooms.

His new ice blue robes, a gift from Northstar Rising, rustled with his abrupt movements. Though he walked the halls and corridors of Tornat in solemn reverence, he knew that time was of the essence. The wizard was saddened by the butchery displayed and the lives that had been lost during Tobias' rampage. That sadness seemed to echo though the hall with every step deeper into the castle.

Greylin Fendrayon, once member of the Brotherhood of the White Magics, had found himself without friend or ally after years of faithful service. Grand Wizard Talbot had seen to that. He allowed those he had once called friends to strip him of the spell books at Blackstone Island. To them he was now a rouge, and it was only fitting that he return that which belonged to the Order. They didn't, thankfully, find the Staff of Trent, he thought. That had irritated Talbot to no end and explained the spies that had tailed him and Deanna to Tornat. Fools, he thought, they played right into Talbot's hands.

Greylin shook his head as he neared the entrance to his former office. Stepping gingerly through the shattered door frame, something caught the wizard's eye. Kneeling, he brushed the fragments of the door away and picked up the old hand carved sign. Smiling, Greylin remembered the way he and Trevor would always start their conversations about its poor workmanship. Oh, he could've just as easily conjured up what he needed, but he had wanted to try his hand at actually doing something without his magic. Chuckling, he placed the sign in his robes and stood back up.

Greylin took a long look around didn't surprise him really. He had figured Talbot wouldn't have wasted any time stripping this place of anything obvious he had left. If Talbot's men were to be considered as a weather pattern, they could only be termed as a tornado. Empty shelves were trashed, books that had no value to wizards were torn asunder, and vials of herbs and remedies were shattered across the floor.

Stepping through the mess, he moved to the far wall and inspected it. Those fools never even thought to look for secret doors. Manipulating the well hidden control, he stepped back and allowed the door to swing open. Best way to hide something from prying wizards? Greylin thought with a chuckle, Use technology.

Greylin stepped into the darkness beyond and shut the door. Once he was sure that the door had sealed properly, he allowed himself to grow accustomed to the darkness. With the slightest use of magic, he brought forth a small, iridescent ball of ethereal light. The light revealed a winding spiral staircase that descended into the bowels of the mountain that Tornat had been built upon. Moving quickly the wizard headed down the stairs that he had once followed Lord Malias down many years ago. Trevor had entrusted him with a secret then that had been known only to Trevor and his forefathers and now int was time for Deanna to know of it too.

To help keep the secret, Trevor allowed Greylin to set up his lab in the small foyer that led to that secret. If it hadn't been for the spies he discovered tailing them, he would have brought Deanna with him. As it was, he had to retrieve the thing himself and show it to her once they returned to the safety of Blackstone. He followed the stairs ever deeper into the mountain for what would be the last time...

Deanna Malias paced the parapet of the Dragon Tower, waiting impatiently for her wizard to return. The brisk night air was beginning to chill her and instinctively she pulled her cloak tighter about her, wishing Greylin was there to warm her. Why Greylin had thought it important to return now to reclaim those few things important to them in secret was beyond her. However, she was not inclined to doubt the wizard in his caution. After they retrieved some things from Deanna's room and the room of her mother, Greylin had insisted on returning to his lab alone. What bothered her about it was not so much as what he had said before setting off, but how he had said it.

"I must deal with one last item alone," the wizard said emphatically. "I will be back as soon as I am finished."

"But Greylin," Deanna protested, "why can't I go with you?"

"I just need to retrieve something, that's all," he replied.

"But..." Her words were cut short as Greylin placed a loving finer to her lips.

"As soon as we are safe back at Blackstone, I will tell you everything, I promise," Greylin replied softly as his eyes pleaded with her. "Until then, please trust me." The wizard left her with a gentle kiss and disappeared into the castle.

Deanna didn't like to be left in the dark. Secrets had a habit of messing up her life. So she paced like a caged snow tiger, feeling helpless and frustrated. Their Dragons, Salia'Ryanne and Snowball's Chance In Hades, watched her as she moved across the landing.

"Hey, Dee," Salia said as she lay down, "Why don't you calm down? The old guy can take care of himself, you know."

"Yeah, if you can't trust Greylin, who can you trust?" Snowball chimed in, trying to be helpful.

"I know he'll be alright, guys," Deanna replied. "What troubles me is the fact that retrieving what ever it is has been at the fore front of Greylin's mind since we began this little adventure. Its occupied so much of his time that he has all but ignored me the whole trip!"

Salia sighed in frustration and Deanna began pacing again. Her hand rubbed the pommel of the Sword of Blackstone where it sat on her hip, Salia knew that the situation with the wizard wasn't the only thing troubling her. The ghosts of this long empty city still haunted her. Being back made her skin crawl and Salia knew it. For Deanna's sake, they wouldn't stay any longer than they had too.

Malicant settled his snake-like frame into his throne and considered the darkness that surrounded him. It no longer provided the comfort to him that it once did. Pain coursed through him and he rubbed the shoulder injured by that Hyjeran half-breed child. She had managed to do something he wasn't prepared for. Injure him, and in injuring him she wounded something more vital. The one thing that refused to heal. His pride. All it took was discovering his only physical weakness and exploiting it. The whole affair had gone sour and she took him completely off guard rather quickly.

He did allow himself at least some satisfaction. His plan had gotten them into Blackstone and revealed the only apparent weakness in her abilities. That seemed to ease his discomfort, but not much.

Malicant shook his head in frustration causing his hair-like tendrils to slap against his shoulders and wings. The sound echoed through the chamber, increasing his discomfort.

With a lazy wave of his clawed hand, he brought forth light from several crystals scattered about the chamber. His throne room was little more than a massive cavern beneath the city of Ru'tan. Although he knew it well enough, the Dracoran made a long inspection of his surroundings. From the large iron doors to the carved crystal globe of Sogard on its granite stand, he found that there was little that had been done to the chamber in the millennia he had ruled the Empire. Of course, he had little in the way of real needs for physical comfort. He was a warrior, and had little need for such things that might make him soft. The bandages on his shoulder were enough to remind him that he had gotten lax.

Stalagmites, stalactites, columns, and other various rock formations decorated the stadium sized chamber. It reminded him of home. The High Lord shook the thought from his mind. It was pointless to allow sentiment to cloud his mind, he reminded himself, better to spend his time in an attempt to plan his next move against the Dragon Queen.

"I cannot believe what I am seeing!"a female voice echoed through the cavern. "The mighty Malicant brooding over his most recent defeat." The last statement echoed with condemnation and disgust.

Malicant, startled by the intrusion, followed the voice back to its source. His Archway, the device that allowed him access to the Dark Realm, had been activated and a feminine figure stepped through the aperture. The Darkness within the arch seemed to slip from her like water running back into the dimensional gate.

She was a diminutive woman in a skin-tight, black leather body suit, thigh high stiletto heeled boots, and a long black leather trenchcoat. Her long hair was as black as her clothes and framed her Asian features in a sensual manner. She would have been quite a stunning woman if it weren't for her eyes. They were blood red with snake-like pupils. She strode purposefully from the arch and smiled at the Dracoran. It was one of those unnervingly pleasant smiles that a crocodile might favor its prey with.

"What do you want, Lady Satah'na?" Malicant snapped angrily. "Can't you see I'm busy?" The Dracoran rose to tower above her and folded his arms across his chest while he extended his wings slightly.

"Doing what?" Satah'na replied, unimpressed by the display."Feeling sorry for yourself?"

"I was attempting to plan my next move against this...Dragon Queen, Deanna Malias," he replied with a growl. Satah'na rolled her eyes and wandered to the globe.

"Have you come up with anything in that thick skull of yours?" she remarked caustically. Have you come up with a means of retrieving this...Castle Blackstone from the humans?" Satah'na ran her fingers across the globe's highly detailed surface as she waited for his answer.

"Not yet, but I am not merely waging a war against those in Blackstone!" sneered the Dracoran High Lord. "My...our forces have encountered heavy resistance and setbacks due to the Newmericans entering this war prematurely!"

"And who do we have to thank for that?" Satah'na asked, rubbing Malicant's nose in his own poor judgement.

"Tobias Quinn," Malicant muttered angrily.

Satah'na smiled. "And just where is Lord Quinn these days?"

"What's left of him on this plane of reality has taken up a new career as fertilizer somewhere," Malicant chuckled. "As for his soul, that's not my department, its yours, My Lady Of Darkness, Princess of Hell."

"Yes, of course it is," Satah'na replied waving him off. "That's not the point."

"Then, Satah'na, what is the point?," snapped Malicant. "Why are you here?"

"Lucifer sent me to take over. Everything else is in order...except here,"the Dark Lady replied. "I will make up where you have been, shall we say, lacking."

Malicant roared. "LACKING? I am not lacking! I have merely suffered a minor loss in along and bloody war!"

"A minor loss?" Satah'na sneered in reproach. "Our Dark Master needs every starfortress for this war to end in our favor and He is becoming impatient!"

Malicant regarded her quietly although all he wanted to do was rip that little bitch's head from her shoulders.

"I still have certain resources available to me that will help in my conquest of this insignificant little moon," Malicant hissed as he slithered toward her and the globe.

"That's why he hasn't killed you yet," Satah'na snarled, directing Malicant's attention to the portal. The Darkness oozed forth and poured off the newcomer as it did Satah'na. As the beast cleared the Arch, the Darkness vanished and the rock behind the device became visible again.

The beast walked to Satah'na's side like some great reptilian predator from this world's prehistory. Compared to Satah'na, the beast was huge. Twice her size in fact and tall enough to look Malicant in the eye. It had three scythe-like claws on each foot that clicked against the stone floor in anticipation of the kill. Steel claws clacked against each other as it shifted its fingers in agitation. Along its arms plates of armor were grafted to its body and blades of varying lengths emerged from them sweeping back toward the elbow. Its back, chest, belly and tail were also grafted with the unusual armor with only small areas of exposed grey flesh along its sides.

Heavy shoulder armor protected the shoulder joints for its arms and wings and four vicious spines grew out of its back. Two metal encased wings rose from just above its shoulders and had the appearance of having few scattered clumps of steel, razor edged feathers. It growled a challenge to the Dracoran, showing off its long tongue and a double row of metal encased, meat rending teeth along its jaws. Finally, its face was skull-like with no visible nose and deeply set red eyes.

Satah'na smiled and sensually ran her fingers down the creature's chest as she evaluated the Dracoran's reaction.

"Why did you bring that...that...thing here?" Malicant snarled as he showed his fangs in hatred and disgust.

"The Darkwalker is here as my secret weapon against this Dragon Queen," Satah'na replied with a slow smile. "Moreover, he's here to ensure that you comply with my orders."

"To Hell with that and you!!" Malicant spat. "I can handle this! I do not need or want your help."

"That, I am afraid, is no longer an option," she stated, anger playing subtly across her Asian features. "Besides, I just came from there, remember?"

The Lady of Darkness strode toward Malicant with an air of confidence.

"I will not give up my empire to you!"Malicant snarled as he tightened the muscles in his coiled body. "I would rather die first!"

"Your choice,"Satah'na replied passively, "however, I would prefer to have your experience to draw upon." The Darkwalker began to shift its weight in anticipation of an order to strike. It hadn't had a kill in a long time.

Instead of speaking, Malicant gave into his rage and sprang at Satah'na. Before the Dracoran could even touch the Dark Lady, the Darkwalker slammed him to the floor. Malicant attempted to struggle as Satah'na knelt beside him. The beast on his back dug its claws into his flesh enough to draw blood.

"Did I forget to mention that he's my bodyguard as well?" Satah'na asked, playing with the Dracoran. "No? I guess I really need to be more informative next time. Now, I hope you will reconsider your position. I do so hate to lose such a valuable creature as yourself."

Unable to break free, Malicant assumed a submissive posture as a plan formed in his mind. Lowering his eyes, he agreed to her terms. He would live to see the day when Deanna Malias beat this demonic bitch and her cruel little plaything. He would indeed...

Greylin stepped off the staircase and approached the great doors of the vault. Within was a secret the Malias family had entrusted to him, kept for generations from the outside world. A quiet word spoken by the wizard caused the great doors to rumble open. Foul air rushed out to meet him, kept locked away for thirty years.

As he entered the musty chamber, Greylin uttered another word of magic and torches within the vault burst to life. He took a measured account of the room's contents, to assure himself that nothing had recently been disturbed. Ancient suits of armor stood empty in various places about the room, remnants from wars long in the past and nearly forgotten. Stacked haphazardly between them, books of knowledge that were of no use as none could understand what had been written in them. He had attempted at one time to decipher those ancient texts to no avail.

What he was after, though, was a large chest in the center of the large vault. Large actually was a poor word to describe its size for it was the size of a cottage. The wizard didn't even bother to open it, for he knew what it contained. He had put it there himself when he was organizing this place.

Greylin evaluated the chest for a moment, considering the spell required for the task. He smiled softly and cast the spell. The chest glowed brightly and when the light faded, the chest was no larger than a small jewelry box. He picked it up and slipped it into one of his inner pockets and returned quickly up the stairs. Once out of the vault's secret area, Greylin cast another spell to seal the secret passage forever. He turned and left for the tower where Deanna was waiting impatiently for him in the brisk winter night.

"About damn time! What took so long?" Deanna asked as he appeared at the top of the stairs.

"I retrieved the item I needed and once we get it back to Blackstone, it will be safe once again," Greylin replied as he reached her. He gave her a small kiss to the cheek and then asked, "You ready to go love?"

"Yes," she replied. "I forgot how cold it gets here during the winter."

As Deanna threw herself into Salia's saddle, Snowball asked," So, what was so important?"

"Nothing that concerns you, my friend." The wizard smiled and climbed into the saddle. He took a cautious glance about. Those that were watching them must have realized that they were through and about to leave.

"Can we leave, now? I'm getting cold!" Salia complained. Her tone rang of boredom more than being chilled.

"Absolutely. I can't help but fell like we're being watched," Deanna replied.

Greylin did not wait for her to realize that she was right. "Let's fly!"The Dragons took to the air and headed back to the waiting Defiance. The moment they were back onboard, the massive Dragon carrier sailed for Isla Morte' with all speed.

High in the Wizard's Academy's highest tower, Grand Master Talbot sat uncomfortably behind his large oak desk. His spies had just informed him that the Lady Malias had been successful in locating the Castle Blackstone. What troubled him was the fact that his most promising student, Greylin Fendrayon, had turned his back on him and left the Order.

There he sat quietly contemplating how best to gain control of Blackstone. While he thought, he interlaced his long, narrow fingers and closed his dark, narrow eyes. He remained that way until a light tap came from his door and roused him from his meditation.

"Enter."

Talbot inspected the junior wizard as he closed the door behind him and approached. The young man was dressed in the fine silk robes of his Asiatic people. Unlike most wizards in the Order, those from the Asiatic Empire seemed to prefer the traditional tailoring of the homeland. The Grand Wizard tolerated this, but only because the Orientals were some of the best in the Order at following directions without question and maintaining secrecy.

"Master Nakashima, what is the purpose of this unexpected visit?" Talbot inquired cooly of his subordinate.

"Lord Talbot," Nakashima began with a slight bow. "Fendrayon and Lady Malias have left Tornat. It would seem that they retrieved all that they came for."

Talbot regarded him quietly for a moment. "And what did they leave with, Nakashima? You assured me that you had cleaned out Fendrayon's laboratory of everything that could be of use to him."

"The Lady Malias retrieved some personal items, and Fendrayon...we were unable to locate him for a time. However when they left, he was carrying nothing we could discern," the Asian replied uncomfortably. "We rechecked the castle after they left, but I could not find anything out of place from the last time we had inspected it."

Talbot stood and moved to his only window overlooking the Palace of the Dragons. His deep blue robes flowed about him as he moved making the Grand master appear larger than life.

"My Lord, I did attempt to locate where the wizard had gone," Nakashima continued nervously, finding Talbot's silence disconcerting. "I was unable to do so with so few others at my disposal."

Talbot chuckled. "Does any one know you're here?"

Nakashima swallowed hard. " No. Per your request, I and those with me have remained unobserved..."

"You have failed me. Time is short and I have no more patience for those that cannot do as I have asked," Talbot replied as he continued to view the Palace below.

Nakashima felt a tightness develop around his throat. He tugged at the close fitting tunic and gasped for air.

"My Lord?" he managed to ask. Suddenly terror filled him as he realized hs fate.

"I have no further use for you," Talbot replied nonchalantly as he moved away from the window. The tightness about Nakashima's throat grew to a constriction and the wizard's eyes grew wide at what was transpiring. He could not even plead for his life as Talbot crushed his throat. Talbot shook his head and with a flick of his wrist, he sent the younger wizard flying through the window to fall to his death below.

No one would ever question him about Nakashima's apparent suicide. None ever doubted the word of a Grand Master of the White Magics. Those that had, quietly met their end soon after.

Deep in the catacombs of an ancient volcano, an ancient warrior stirred from hibernation. Tremors in the fabric of reality heralded the arrival of a great evil. Such a thing troubled the warrior. An event such as this was very unusual in his experience.

He stood and worked out the kinks in his ancient body. At his mental command, torches sprang to life about him. In the flickering light, the warrior flexed his muscles and stretched his dragon-like frame. He considered the forge and the racks of weapons and armor he had created. They would see use, he thought with a depressed sigh. How unfortunate that they could be ornamental no more. For only one thing he now realized could awaken him from his millennial hibernation. A Darkwalker had arrived on Sogard. If that was so, the then Dragon Queen had appeared and she would soon seek him out for training and guidance.

Striding over to the shore of his underground lake, he shed his clothing and looked into the water. He evaluated his reflection and smiled. Little had changed since he had last looked into the waters. His pair of ebony horns still swept gracefully from the back of his head, surrounded by a crest of smaller spikes. He smiled and the short snout of his reflection mimicked him. Light danced in his deep blue eyes, and his troubled thoughts were reflected there as well. His skin had changed though. Instead of the deep shade of green it had been in his youth, it was now tinged with gray. His moustache and goatee had been streaked with silver. His age was really beginning to show if you knew where to look, although there were still many Pah'ru'mah females that would find him desirable.

The Pah'ru'mah warrior stepped into the geothermal lake and began to wash himself of the centuries of accumulated dirt. His contented igh echoed throughout the cavern as he soaked away the ache of sore muscles. It felt so good to be clean again.

As he lay there in the warm waters, he stretched out his mind to the others of his kind. Their presence and their city were still closely guarded secrets. Good, he thought, no point in showing your hand before it was time. The warrior slipped out of the water and dressed. He would wait patiently for his new pupil and practice his arts. Though the Pah'ru never forgot anything, they did get out of practice.

He knelt down and began his routine again. He prayed to the Creator for guidance, strength, insight, and everything else he might need when she arrived. He did not know when she would, just that she would seek him out. That was all he needed to know.

He rose and ate. Later, he decided, he would begin to practice that which he would need for his training of the Dragon Queen and that which he would need to prepare himself for the coming war.