threat do you bring us?”
“I’m afraid it is bleak, my lord. More of their deathships have arrived on the Red Coast. Their army increases with every passing day. “
Sooth-Malesh pulled a crystal from his robe and set it on the stone table. The crystal spun and spun, moving to the center of the table until a shower of light burst from it.
Everyone took a step back, shading their eyes from the bright light.
A vision appeared: hundreds of thousands of raging creatures with hovering spirits tethered to them marched from the beaches of the Fifling Sea. War machines rolled with fiery quarrels; monstrous reptilian steeds howled and stomped. The crystal scoped the beach, showing the armies marching into many different directions, clubs, axes, daggers, and pole arms clattering against bone-clad armor and shields, stone-like teeth clicking, dozens of mages wielding powerful magic of fire, shadow, and necromancy.
“They have already regrouped in the North, and are cutting a path through it,” Sooth-Malesh said. “They have invaded Bhrungach. The walls have fallen.”
Olani’s head bowed, sadness in her eyes. Drith smirked at his brother.
The old mage continued. “Half of their vast army is marching this way, up the coast toward Cardoon.”
“What of the ghosts with them?” Tolan asked. “These spirits can attack, but cannot be harmed, in return.”
“They’re familiars. They are the spirits of creatures or animals slain in their homeland. They are tethered to them with totems. You see, the bones on their armor are the bones of the creatures they have killed. Their mages have enchanted the bones, thus binding the spirits to their killers. It gives more power to these things… whatever they are. If you break the bond, destroy the bones of the animal, they will be freed, and the master will weaken.”
“What do these monsters want?” Olani asked, her eyes welling.
“Ah, I am glad you asked.” Sooth-Malesh gestured to the crystal and the vision shifted back to the beach on the Red Coast. Among the thousands of tents and barges, a circle of high mages appeared. The horned wizards, twelve or more, wove their clawed-hands over a piece of stone, floating inside a receptacle.
Green-yellow energy swirled around the stone, waves of it rippled off as the mages focused their magic into it.
“They seek the other pieces of the Grimstone.”
“The what?” Nachin asked.
“The Grimstone: the ancient stone that nearly destroyed the First People. Long held as the most powerful magical artifact known to all of Athora. The First People, the Mulcavrii, knew it was too powerful for anyone to master. They tried to destroy it, but it would only shatter into three pieces. They were hidden over a thousand years ago. These creatures have obviously found one of the pieces, and they want the other two. They will wipe out everything to get them.”
“Grimstone?” Olani said. “I have never heard of this stone.”
“Only the oldest of grimoires make mention of it. It had all been forgotten by the people of Athora.”
“We did not forget it,” said one of the emissaries from Gwythroth. He drew closer to the table, tall, statuesque, his movements fluid. “We know it as the Ebon stone. It harnesses the abyss and the world of magic. Its power cannot be tamed. It is not of our world. That is why the Mulcavrii warred over it, and in the end, knew they had to rid themselves of it. It cannot be put back together… not by any being.”
“Why should we care what these creatures want?” Drith said, his brother grabbing hold of his arm. “So far, I see that they attack those whose cups run over.”
“That is not all they will attack!” Sooth-Malesh thundered, turning his enflamed eyes toward the King of the South. “They will stop at nothing to get the stone; they will crush every kingdom until they get it. And once they do, all of Athora will fall. The stone could destroy every living thing on our world. This army means to