Free Red Magic by Jean Rabe Page A

guards not to follow.
    “Instruct the slaves to put out the candles and clean the room,” he ordered as he passed. “I am finished here for the evening.” The guards moved immediately to comply.
    Satisfied with their promptness, the Red Wizard descended the spiral staircase that led to the bowels of his tower. Passing guards on every level, he nodded to them and noted that all of them seemed alert tonight. Maligor’s security was stronger in the evening than in the daytime; he knew many wizards preferred to act at night. Tonight Maligor had placed several special guards and had cast powerful wards to keep even the most powerful of sorcerers from scrying into his domain. He planned to add to his army this evening and wanted no one else, not even Asp, to watch. He would have to keep her very busy with the gnoll troops for the next several days or she was bound to become curious about his work.
    As Maligor proceeded past the ground level, the stairway widened. He had had it constructed this way to better accommodate the large creatures he often kept below. He passed through several doorways that appeared, when closed, to be sections of the wall, but which pivoted or slid back to open. Only skilled thieves or special spells could reveal the stonework as doors.
    It took the old wizard several minutes to reach the deepest underground level. It was quite damp here, and slime and mosses coated the walls. The guards at this level had never been human. They were vague, misshapen forms that, except for the rise and fall of their massive chests, stood unmoving against the foundation. He passed them all, taking note to construct a few more such guardians tomorrow as an added precaution.
    Eventually he reached a large chamber where the stonework along the walls appeared older than the rest of the tower. The oval chamber, lit only by a dozen guttering, tallow-soaked torches, was more than two hundred and fifty feet long and nearly half that in width. At first the room appeared empty, wrapped in shadows that writhed and breathed in the meager torchlight. Then, as Maligor’s eyes became accustomed to the darkness, he made out the shapes he was searching for. Darkenbeasts. Nearly a thousand of them.
    The creatures huddled on the filth-encrusted floor, clung to the walls, and hung from the high ceiling rafters like bats. Some hovered in the air, waiting for others to move so they could gain a choice place to rest. An unusually large darkenbeast, much bigger than a man, claimed a crumbling altar in the center of the room. Whatever dark purposes the altar had served centuries ago, Maligor was unconcerned about them now. He was certain his own foul plans dwarfed those of the chamber’s earlier owner, and his plans didn’t call for altars or ritualistic sacrifices. They relied on the wizard’s own magical abilities and wits.
    The room smelled foul and acidic, burning the Red Wizard’s eyes and making it uncomfortable for him to breathe. If the chamber weren’t so deep below the ground, the odor would soon alert Asp and the tower’s other occupants that something grotesque was living here. He gagged from the stench of the darkenbeasts and continued to survey his grand army.
    It had taken the Red Wizard months to accumulate this force, working through the night turning bats, lizards, snakes, rats, and other animals into the evil darkenbeasts. The intense magic had exhausted him, leaving him feeling his advanced years. But the incantations had kept his mind sharp for his plans for power. Many of his gnolls had gone hungry so the wizard could use their livestock and transform the docile beasts into his loathsome creatures. He wanted at least a few hundred more beasts before he would be satisfied with the force. That wouldn’t be difficult, as he had slaves purchasing reptiles and other small creatures from the open-air market in Amruthar. Bought in small quantities, the tiny creatures would not evoke suspicion, but would still add needed