‘I am named Tomas, Consort to the most radiant queen, Aglaranna, ruler of Elvandar. I am by her appointment and the consent of her subjects Warleader of Elvandar. I wear the mantle of Ashen-Shugar, Ruler of the Eagles’ Reaches, and carry his alien memories, though I am as mortal as any here. I have been allotted a longer life span than other humans, but I know that eventually death awaits me.
‘I have travelled beyond the stars and into the Halls of Death herself, and have spoken with gods and demons. I tell you this so that you may know something of what I am, and what I have seen, for now I must speak of the Dread.
‘Some of you may know the name from your ancient lore, others may have never heard it, but in the end, it is all the same, for you know nothing of them. I am the only mortal being on this world who knows of the Dread, save one, and he has travelled a long distance hence. So, put aside any preconceptions you may have and listen.’
Caleb whispered, ‘He just told us all to forget about the bear, didn’t he?’
His mother nodded.
Tomas began his tale.
When he had finished, the word that best described the assembled magicians and priests was ‘shaken’. Without embellishment or dramatics, Tomas had told them the tale of the Valheru’s first and only encounter with the Dread, in a realm called ‘the Boundary’ by the Dragon Lords. It was a place between the realms and the Void and, like the Hall of Worlds, the City Forever and the Garden, a place that defied rational description.
Tomas said, ‘There is a place, the Peaks of the Quor, in that part of Great Kesh closest to the Island Kingdom of Roldem. It is there we discovered a leak in the barriers of reality, a place where this world and the Boundary co-existed. Somehow children of the Dread – beings almost benign by the standards of the Void – found their way into the Boundary and then from there into this world. They were playing: yet that play was deadly. Miranda and I excised their existence from this world and I hope that ended the risk, but I asked for you all to be here today to warn you that there is a possibility the risk is not over. For if the Dread ever find their way into our realm, we shall have almost no time to respond.’
‘How can we respond in any rational fashion to a threat such as the one you describe?’ asked the High Priest of the Order of Dala in Krondor. The elderly cleric wore his simple white robes today rather than the richly embroidered raiment of his office.
‘That is why I asked Miranda to call this meeting now,’ said Tomas. ‘It may be that the need will never arise, but it’s far better for us to be prepared for something that never comes than to be unprepared when there is need.’
‘What can you tell us of these beings?’ asked a magician named Komis from Stardock. Unlike most who affected the dark robes originally worn by Pug when he founded the Academy, Komis had chosen richly ornamented robes of dark plum, edged with white cord at the collar, cuffs, and hem. His youthful features belied his position in the Academy where he was a senior instructor in what was being called shadow magic, the study of energies linked to the other realms. His studies lay at the heart of most of the questions Tomas raised.
‘Little, save that their very touch can draw out life-energy and wither flesh in moments if you have no means to protect yourself. The more powerful they are, the more intelligent. Those we destroyed yesterday were little more than mindless youngsters, unable to speak – or at least unable to speak in any fashion we can apprehend – but eager to experience the hunt and taste flesh in our realm.
‘The more powerful among them can be understood: I have spoken to one and know where one is imprisoned.’
‘We must examine it!’ exclaimed the High Priest of the Order of Ishap in Rillanon. The Ishapians were the oldest order extant, the only public order to serve one of the greater gods, and while each temple was autonomous, the Ishapians wielded great influence: more than one inter-temple war had been prevented by both sides appealing to the servants of Ishap for guidance.
Tomas shook his head. ‘The journey is arduous and the destination is almost impossible to access.’ He thought for a moment, then said, ‘Let me consider such an expedition, for by combining arts…’ He looked at Miranda who made a non-committal gesture. She knew what he was speaking of. A Dreadmaster had been trapped by Pug and Tomas in the deepest bowels of a black citadel in the heart of the City Forever, a place only bordering on reality.
One of the magicians said, ‘If we know its nature, we might fashion a spell of binding!’
‘And banishment!’ added a priest. ‘If it is not of this realm, it can be sent away with the proper exorcisms.’
That triggered an animated discussion among those in attendance. Tomas motioned to Miranda to step aside and when they were out of earshot of the others, he said, ‘We’re off to a good start.’