Shader’s fingers touched the box of matches in his pocket, but he chose to say nothing. Why should he lift a finger to help the bald bastard, after all he’d put them through?
“Well?” Rhiannon said. “You gonna tell him? How come I can go with you, and he can’t?”
Something was communicated between them. Shader had no idea what it was, but it made him edgy, and something else. He fixed Aristodeus with a hard stare and chewed his bottom lip. It was ridiculous, he knew, but he felt the pinch of jealousy.
“Too risky,” Aristodeus said. “Which is why I’ve had to come up with another way.” He turned to Shader. “What I mean is, it’s too risky you and I being in the same space within the Abyss at once. Think of it like chess. I am the king—”
“And Shader’s your queen?” Rhiannon said.
“Lassie,” Nameless said from his reclining chair. “Behave.”
“That is not what I was trying to say,” Aristodeus said. “My point is, I cannot place all my eggs in one basket. I might have the advantage at the moment, but the slightest miscalculation, the smallest error—”
Rhiannon sneered.
“Right now,” Shader said, “I couldn’t give a damn if you win or lose. Just get me home, and then find yourself some new pawns.”
“Yeah,” Rhiannon said, “I’m sick of it, too. Maybe you can drop us both off in Sahul.”
Aristodeus whirled on her but then instantly softened, speaking in a cloying tone. “I would prefer it if you stayed here, at least until…”
Rhiannon’s eyes dropped to the floor, and for a long moment an uncomfortable silence hung over the chamber.
“All right,” Aristodeus finally said, “I suppose I could countenance that, if it’s to Oakendale you return, and if you stay out of trouble.”
“What’s it to you?” Shader asked. “She’ll go wherever she wants, whether you like it or not.”
Red flooded Aristodeus’s face, and he clenched his fists. “This is not about megalomania, Shader! Can’t you see that? Did I waste all those years trying to educate you, teaching you to think? Gandaw was the control freak, not me. Do you think I want to fight this battle? Do you? Have you any idea how long it’s gone on for, how many centuries? I am pivotal, Shader. Understand? Pivotal. And I am getting close.”
Shader narrowed his eyes and kept his voice low, full of threat. “Close to what?”
“Freedom, of course. And after that, turning the tables on the Demiurgos and sending him back where he came from.”
“The weight of the universe on your shoulders, eh, laddie?” Nameless said. “Felt like that myself once.”
“This is not the same!” Aristodeus said. He wrenched the tube out of the bag and rapidly coiled it up and lay it on Nameless’ belly. “Tape,” he muttered. “Tape, tape, bloody tape.” He located what he was looking for on a desk and began to tear off strips from a spool, which he used to stick the coiled tube to Nameless’ skin. “There, you can go now. Just remember, once a month—”
“Yes, yes, laddie, back here for dinner. How could I ever forget?” Nameless jumped up from the chair and tugged down his hauberk. “Well, with your permission—” He turned the great helm on Aristodeus. “—think I’ll see what Pellor has to offer. Heard it’s a festering backwater and a den of thieves, but that just tells me I won’t get bored. Who knows, if it doesn’t work out, might even head back to New Jerusalem, maybe even catch up with the little fellow.”
“Shadrak?” Rhiannon asked. She looked at Aristodeus. “Please don’t tell me you’re sending that scutting shogger back with us.”
“Not one of mine,” Aristodeus said. “I couldn’t care less what he does.”
“Speak for yourself,” Shader said. “If it hadn’t been for Shadrak, you’d not be standing here. Neither would the rest of us.”
Nameless offered his hand, and Shader took it. “Glad we see eye to eye on that, laddie. Credit where credit’s due, eh? And don’t forget what you did, either. Makes this old dwarf proud to have been there with you.”
Shader’s instant reaction was to withdraw, to deny he’d done anything save look on as the gladius put an end to Gandaw’s enslavement of Eingana, but Nameless tightened his grip and drew him into a hug.
“You did good, laddie, and if anyone tells you otherwise, they’ll have my axe to… Shog, the blasted thing broke.” He turned the eye-slit of his great helm up to where the black axe lay encased in crystal. “Don’t suppose…”
“No!” Aristodeus said, rushing over and ushering him toward the door.
“Just joshing,” Nameless said, tapping the side of his helm. “The ol’ bucket’s still working.”
“Even so,” Aristodeus said, “it’s not a matter to joke about.”
The door slid open, and Nameless stood there for a moment, head bowed. “No, laddie, you’re right there. No joking matter.” He suddenly looked up. “You have a lead, though? So we can destroy the axe and get this thing off my head. I thought you said—”
“Yes,” Aristodeus said, “but you’ll have to be patient. There are a million and one other things to do, but I’m already working on it.”
“Till we meet for dinner, then,” Nameless said. He waved at Rhiannon and gave Shader a nod of respect as he stepped outside, and then the scarolite door slid shut behind him.
“Right,” Aristodeus said. “Work to do, and time, as they say, waits for no one. Well, that’s not strictly true, is it, my dear?”
Rhiannon rolled her eyes.
Time? Was that it? Was that why Rhiannon had changed so much in a matter of hours? “You’ve been training her, haven’t you? In the Abyss.” He said it like an accusation.
“It’s called turning adversity to one’s advantage,” Aristodeus said. “Gandaw—or rather Eingana—might have put me into the Demiurgos’s clutches, but there is no time in the Abyss, what with it being across the mouth of the Void. You can hardly blame me for making the most of it.”
“Insurance, in case you screwed up.”
“Fat lot of good that did,” Rhiannon said. “I killed a few metal crabs and then got snatched by that silver sphere.”
“Yes, well, thankfully Shader did what I hoped he would, so the effort wasn’t entirely wasted. You may have bought him some time.”
“More than that,” Shader said. “If it hadn’t been for Rhiannon and Nameless, I’d never have gotten anywhere near Gandaw.”
“Bollocks,” Rhiannon said. “But don’t get sidelined. He hasn’t told you everything yet.”
“Nor shall I,” Aristodeus said. “Suffice it to say that I always have a fallback plan, and in this case, given that you somehow managed to lose the Sword of the Archon, I’m glad to have two more irons in the fire.”
“Nameless?” Shader said. “He’s one of them, right?”
“Maybe,” Aristodeus said, “but Rhiannon will play the greater part. Don’t take that as being let off the hook, though. You are still my weapon of choice. Once I find the sword, you’ll be hearing from me.”
“Well, let’s just hope you don’t find it,” Shader said.
Aristodeus glowered for an instant but then masked his irritation with a smug grin. “With or without it, you may still prove useful. I’ll have to see. In the meantime, Mephesch is outside. He’ll take you to the particle chamb… the portal room. They’ve worked hard, the little beggars, modifying technology Gandaw used to to retrieve the statue from the Homestead. Just tell him your destination, and he’ll plot a course. One good thing about Gandaw, he left us eyes and ears everywhere.”
“Good,” Rhiannon said. “So, even a shithole like Oakendale should be easy to find, right?” She cocked her head at Shader, and for the first time in a long while, she smiled. “Fancy a beer at the Griffin?”
Shader stared b
lankly at her for a second. Beer? That would be good. Or maybe something stronger, after all he’d been through. But the Griffin? Oakendale? He tried to read her, but in her eyes there was nothing but pain and something else… anguish, maybe. Possibly even fear.
“I’d love to,” he managed, “but I’m not going to Oakendale.”
She shrugged and did her best to look nonchalant. “Where, then? Sarum? Or you heading back to Pardes for another go?”
He shook his head and gave her a wry smile. “Aeterna,” he said.
Rhiannon gasped, and her hand went to to her stomach, as if she were going to be sick.
“I will see you again,” he put in hurriedly, but she waved his words away.
“Why? Why Aeterna?” She drew in a deep breath and ran her hand over her head.
“You all right?” Aristodeus asked, moving to hover over her like an over-protective father.
“Fine,” she said.
“There are things I need to find out,” Shader said. “And there’s something I should have done a long time ago.”
“I may still have need of you,” Aristodeus said. “Don’t lose sight of that. Just need to find that blasted sword or something else to get the job done.”
“Forget it,” Shader said, fingering the pendant beneath his tattered surcoat. “I’ve made my decision. No more fighting. Not for you, not for anyone.” He held up a hand when the philosopher tried to protest. “No more words, Aristodeus. I’m done with you. I’m off to Aeterna, and that’s final. And who knows, if they can forgive me for running off with the sword in the first place, and if Adeptus Ludo can set me straight about one or two things, I might even—”
“No,” Aristodeus muttered, as if he’d finally been taken by surprise. “You can’t. You’re not cut out to be a priest. You’re a fighter, Shader. You know that. You always have been.”
“Yes, well, you made sure of that, didn’t you?” Shader said.
Rhiannon was staring at him open-mouthed, and her eyes had darkened to wells of emptiness that, even if he relented and went back to Sahul with her, he knew he could never fill. They’d both come so far since he’d almost given up the consecrated life for her; they’d changed so much. She’d rebuffed his advances for the sake of his soul, so she’d said, but in reality it was Aristodeus again, manipulating behind the scenes. So much suffering, so much heartache, and all so the philosopher could gain an advantage in a centuries-long struggle with the Demiurgos.
He reached out a hand to touch her cheek, wiped away a single tear with his thumb. Her lips were trembling, but he couldn’t do anything to comfort her. He was no longer even sure if he wanted to. Damaged goods is what they were now, and no one but Aristodeus was to blame.
“Come on,” Shader said, placing a hand on Rhiannon’s shoulder. He half-expected her to swipe it off, but she left it there and let him guide her to the door. “We can talk on the way to this portal room.”
Now it was Aristodeus’s turn to look jealous, and he took a step toward them, but then stopped in his tracks to wipe a bead of sweat from his glistening pate.
The door slid open, and they stepped into the vestibule. Mephesch was waiting for them, an enigmatic smile playing across his face. Shader didn’t trust the homunculus as far as he could throw him, but that wasn’t his concern. That was a problem for minds older and wiser than his, he thought with bile.
“Do what you must,” Aristodeus said, “but when the time is right, I’ll call upon you.”
“And the answer will still be no,” Shader said as the door closed behind them.
Here ends the First Shader Trilogy:
Against the Unweaving
The story picks up in the second trilogy:
Against the Abyss
starting with Shader: Book Four:
The Archon’s Assassin…
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ABOUT D.P. PRIOR
I was born in the South East of England in the late sixties, just in time to get a good sniff at the Summer of Love.
I spent most of my childhood immersed in fantasy and SF novels as well as Marvel comics. I also had an unhealthy obsession with D&D and was, for a long time, a member of the rather dodgy wargaming society at the Archery recreation ground.
After studying theatre at Lewes I did a season as Father Christmas, worked as a lighting and sound technician, and then trained for three years to be a Mental Health Nurse. I started in one of the Victorian asylums but ended up at the University of Sussex.
Once qualifying, I was immediately off to Aberystwyth to study for a BA in Drama. I also studied Classics and Medieval History and ended up specializing in Acting and Intercultural Theatre.
I gained twenty years of varied experience in mental health, working in acute services, crisis resolution, management of violence and aggression, and eating disorders. This was interspersed with a five month postulancy with the Carmelite Order in Melbourne and further studies at the University of Notre Dame in Western Australia.
Web: dpprior.blogspot.com
Facebook: facebook.com/dpprior
Twitter: @NamelessDwarf
ALSO BY D.P. PRIOR
The Nameless Dwarf
The Ant-Man Of Malfen
The Axe Of The Dwarf Lords
The Scout And The Serpent
The Ebon Staff
Bane Of The Liche Lord
The Nameless Dwarf: The Complete Chronicles
Shader
Sword Of The Archon
Best Laid Plans
The Unweaving
The Archon’s Assassin (forthcoming)
Rise Of The Nameless Dwarf (forthcoming)
Saphra (forthcoming)
The Memoires of Harry Chesterton
Thanatos Rising
TABLE OF CONTENTS
A DWARF WITH NO NAME
THE END OF WORLDS
THE SOUR MARSH
THE STOWAWAY
THE DEAD LANDS
NOTHING’S PERFECT
384 WAYS TO KILL
SALVE OF THE BLACK SWORD
A THING THRICE DEAD
FOR NOUS, ALL THINGS ARE POSSIBLE
STARTING AT THE BOTTOM AGAIN
ARX GRAVIS
NOT A GOD
THE NAMELESS DWARF
A CHANGE OF PLAN
GOING PLACES
THE TOWER OF IVORY
NEW JERUSALEM
HUNTED
APPEASEMENT
THE ART OF PERSUASION
THE GIFT
LADY LUCK
FALL FROM GRACE
THE ANT-HILL
BIRTH OF THE UNWEAVING
WHERE TIME HAS NO MEANING
OUTCLASSED
ROOTS OF THE MOUNTAIN
THE UNWEAVING
THE PARTING OF WAYS
ABOUT D.P. PRIOR
ALSO BY D.P. PRIOR