Midnights Mask by Kemp Paul S

Author:Kemp, Paul S. [Kemp, Paul S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780786936434
Published: 2005-11-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 9: SAILING THE NIGHT

Get your men ready,” Cale said to Evrel.

In no time, word went from the mate and captain to the crew. So, too, did the description of who and what Cale, Magadon, and Jak were, or once were. Few of the crew made eye contact after that. All muttered, but all obeyed the captain’s orders. They seemed both fascinated and fearful.

Cale took a position in the bow, standing just over the leering wooden demon’s face that decorated Demon Binder’s prow. Jak and Magadon stood beside him. Behind them on the deck and above them in the rigging, the crew waited in pensive silence. The calm sea, as black as jet under the starlight, seemed also to be waiting.

Cale imagined in his mind’s eye the towering cliffsides of Traitor’s Isle, the long shadow cast over the water by its tower, even by starlight. He started to draw the night around him, around Magadon, around Jak. He spread it out to the rest of the ship like a dire fog. A rustle went through the crew but they held their ground.

Cale waited until pitch cloaked the entire vessel. He alone could see within the darkness. He reached out with his mind, found the correspondence between the darkness that shrouded him and the darkness near Traitor’s Isle. He tried to take the entire ship in his mental grasp. It defied an easy grip. He struggled, sweating, praying, asking Mask for aid. Finally he mastered the darkness and took it.

Somewhere, he knew, Mask was pleased.

Cale felt the flutter in his gut that bespoke instantaneous transport. He let the darkness subside. It flowed off the ship’s decks like mist to reveal… water the color of pitch, a sky as dark as a demon’s heart. A sourceless ochre light backlit clouds shaped like the faces of screaming men. Green lightning ripped the sky to pieces.

The Plane of Shadow.

“Trickster’s toes,” Jak muttered.

The crew echoed Jak’s sentiment. A chorus of oaths ran from bow to stern, a fearful chorus.

“Erevis….” Magadon began.

The feat had left Cale drained, wrung out. His body felt worn; his breath came hard. He sagged, leaned on Magadon for support.

Magadon took his weight. The guide stared at him, studied him.

“You look different, Erevis,” Magadon said. “The shadows around you… they’re darker.”

Cale nodded. He had taxed himself, sunk deeper into the shadows, and even still he had not quite accomplished what he wished. He saw Mask’s hand in it.

Evrel climbed the forecastle, eyes hard, brow furrowed. When he saw Cale, he stopped in his tracks.

“Talos, man! Your eyes.”

Cale looked away. He knew his eyes glowed yellow on the Plane of Shadow.

“What do you want, Evrel?” Magadon asked, his voice stern.

“What do I-? Look around. Where are we? This is no sea that I know.”

The crew nearby murmured agreement.

Magadon started to speak but Cale held up a hand to cut him off.

“We are on the Plane of Shadow, Evrel,” Cale said, his voice heavy with fatigue. “Do not be concerned. I’ll be taking us back to Faerun soon.

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