Jennar, is a warlock who uses his spirit to disguise his appearance. That’s a very rare and very difficult talent that only a few mages have. Also, that long weapon he had wasn’t a rifle, but it’s a sort of sword called a nightlance.”
“ I’ve heard of those,” Kane said. “It’s a Crujian weapon, right?”
“ Right.”
“ Who is this clown?” Black asked.
It was Ramsey who answered.
“ Black Circle,” he said. The way he mouthed those words, it was as if they left a bad taste in his mouth.
Nothing else needed to be said. The Black Circle was well known, even if many chose to believe they didn’t exist. Nihilists and fanatics who lived in the shadows, the Circle’s efforts revolved around a drive to bring about the downfall of all life. They were well-supplied, well trained, and very powerful. Luckily, their numbers were few, but they were capable of doing incredible damage given the right opportunity. Some said the Circle believed they were God’s angels, sent to punish those who’d somehow survived Judgment Day; others thought they served some other-worldly evil, a demonic or undead agent, or even The Black itself.
Whatever their motives, one thing was clear: they were friends to no one, for they sought the destruction of all. They wanted to watch everything — the world, its people, all of it — burn. They sought oblivion, and they were willing to give their own lives to achieve that end, if necessary.
A member of the Black Circle had been there with Cole, searching for the Woman in the Ice. Weeks had passed since Cole had been abducted. For all they knew, the Black Circle had already found what they were looking for. And if they had, there was no telling how much damage they’d already done.
EIGHTEEN
They came upon the frozen city at first light. Soldiers from Claw Company, out of Ath, waited for them, just as Ramsey had promised.
Even through the frosted and thick-paned window of the airship, they saw how much brighter the world became that far north. They were deep in the Reach, in Gorgoloth territory and well beyond the White Line. They felt the biting chill even through the walls of the craft.
They had no real plan aside from finding the Bone Tower that Cole thought housed the Woman in the Ice. They hoped they'd beat the Black Circle agents to the site, but Cross thought that was highly unlikely. The best they could hope for was that the Woman was buried deep, or else shielded behind a great deal of arcane safeguards, and that the Black Circle hadn't actually reached her yet. Still, it had been weeks since Cole’s party had been ambushed, and even though it would have taken Jennar some time to gather his allies and guide them back to Karamanganji, the Circle still had a significant head start.
Cross’ nerves were on edge, and his pulse raced with worry.
They touched down to the west of the frozen city. Everyone threw on as many layers of winter clothing as they could: heavy coats, hats, thick gloves, extra pants, double layers of socks, anything that Ramsey had on hand. Unfortunately, the Gol had never really anticipated making an arctic trek, so their clothing supplies were a bit thinner than they would have liked.
Bitter winter wind greeted them as the rear doors slid open. Blasts of bone-chilling air cast everything in white drifts and icy fog. Cross shivered the moment the doors opened. The faces of the refugees from Thornn were wrapped with shreds of torn blankets. They all looked like stuffed scarecrows, and they moved with about as much grace.
The sky was dull white, and the earth was pale and sheen. Most of the ground was layered with sheets of snow so cold it had fused into layers of ice. Sharp stones protruded from the ground like shards of broken glass, and a trail of rock led up the face of Mount Karamanganji, a desolate peak that stuck like a black and jagged tooth into the frozen sky. The ruins of the city stood at the base of the mountain, easily visible from atop the rise.
It was a city of ice. Glacial buildings were fused into the frozen rock. Wide streets covered in uneven layers of petrified snow ran between spires of glittering dark crystal. Gray fog curled off of the featureless buildings and filled the air between the stark white towers with vapors of rolling shadow. Needle-thin bridges connected the delicate structures like misplaced horizontal icicles.
The breadth of the city was impressive. When the wind turned in the ship's direction, Cross tasted cold so raw it burned his tongue. He sensed powerful and ancient spirits, their origins and numbers so vast and scattered they would not be pinpointed. They swam through the currents of the air, heavy, formless and pure, like uncut diamond matter.
The group met Claw Company atop the ridge that overlooked the city. Cross saw a ground transport and a tank. Both were made out of magically-treated steel, and they were lightweight vehicles that could be carried by the cargo transport airship grounded on a ridge that overlooked the city.
Only a few Southern Claw soldiers were visible out there in the snow, their brown and deep red armor hardly camouflaged but probably the best choice for keeping track of soldiers so that no one became lost in the arctic wastes.
Airships ran reconnaissance over the frozen city streets. Cross counted at least six Bloodhawk warships in the air. They were sleek and lightweight vessels shaped like aerial speedboats.
With the troop transport and the two land vehicles, that meant that the Southern Claw had sent a least two platoons. Cross was relieved: he didn’t want the entire Company. He had a bad feeling about what was coming.
A cluster of soldiers made their way towards the vampire airship. It pained Cross' eyes to even watch them in the stinging snow. He felt his sinuses freeze.
“ Lieutenant Crylos?” Ramsey called out, his voice drowned in the wind.
“ You must be Ramsey!” a man called out. “This way!”
The soldiers led them into a makeshift white tent that was nearly invisible in the eye-numbing wind. Inside were a number of tables with maps pinned to them, plenty of supplies, sandbags, and a hex field generator that provided power and acted as an early warning system against intruders. Cold iron rods and sacks of blessed earth rested near the center of the tent. The generator made the air inside surprisingly warm.
A witch waited in the tent. Her dark hair was pulled back to reveal intricate tattoos cast on her neck and angular cheeks. She held a dark crystal attached to a string over one of the maps.
The man who’d spoken with Ramsey pulled back his hood. He was young and unshaven, with dirty blonde hair and large blue eyes.
“ I’m Lieutenant Crylos,” he said, and he shook everyone’s hand in turn. “Sergeant Ankharra is busy divining for any obvious signs of recent disturbances in this area. Thus far we haven’t turned anything up, but give us time. We’re good at finding trouble.”
“ This should be a match made in heaven, then,” Cross laughed. “You served with Sergeant Stone in Scorpion Company, right?”
“ I did,” Crylos nodded. “Good man. Sorry to hear about what happened to him. I’ve heard a lot about you, Cross.”
Cross couldn’t decide if the fact that he had a reputation was a good thing or a bad thing.
“ Where’s the rest of your Company?” Ramsey asked.
“ Patrolling near Saarn. That’s actually where the entire Company was bound for when we received orders to come and help you.” Crylos looked at Cross, clearly assuming the warlock was in charge. “What are we expecting, exactly? All we were told was that there was something of import in these ruins, and that agents of the Black Circle were looking for it, as well.”
“ We hope that the Black Circle is all we have to deal with,” Cross said grimly. “We may have vampires on our tail. Or worse.”
“ Excellent,” Crylos nodded. His face was almost expressionless. Cross couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic,
