Spook's: The Dark Army (The Starblade Chronicles) by Joseph Delaney Page A

Kobalos. This creature was larger and broader than the haizda mage I’d fought back in Chipenden before our journey up here had even begun; it wore heavy leather boots and a long gown not dissimilar to that of a spook – though the bare arms were covered in thick hair like the hide of an animal. The face had been shaved to dark stubble and the big eyes were staring at me. If I was reading its expression correctly, it appeared curious rather than hostile and showed a hint of sadness.
    The shape flickered again; one moment it was grey and translucent and I could see the bookshelves behind it; the next, the crisp maroon material of its gown and its large brown eyes seemed solid and sharp: it could have been a living, breathing mage that we confronted.
    ‘What can you see, Jenny?’ I asked.
    ‘It’s one of their mages. But I don’t think he’s hostile. There are waves of sadness coming from him.’
    Suddenly the ghost spoke in the guttural language of Losta. I couldn’t understand a word and hoped that this mage had the same language skills as the haizda I’d fought back in the County.
    ‘I’m going to ask it to speak in our language,’ I told Jenny. ‘If it does, I’ll question it and maybe send the ghost to the light – if it’s possible. So concentrate and listen carefully but leave the questioning to me.’
    Jenny nodded, and I turned to the ghost.
    ‘I don’t speak your language. Can you speak mine?’
    ‘
You are brave to speak to me
,’ the ghost replied in a deep hollow voice. ‘
All the other humans ran. Are you a mage?
’
    ‘My name is Thomas Ward and I’m a spook,’ I said. ‘My job is to deal with ghosts and similar entities.’
    ‘
My name is Abuskai. I am a High Mage.
’
    ‘Do you realize that you’re dead?’ I asked.
    That was the standard question a spook asked a ghost, the first step in preparing to send them to the light. But could a Kobalos mage be directed to the light? I wondered. Perhaps, like human malevolent witches and mages, he belonged to their equivalent of the dark. Or maybe there were domains completely unknown to us where the dark of the Kobalos gathered.
    ‘
Of course I do. I have been dead a long time
,’ the ghost of the mage replied. ‘
It wearies me to be trapped here. I seek release from my torment but cannot pass beyond this world.
’
    ‘What holds you back?’ I asked.
    I was quite prepared to attempt to send this creature to the light by asking it to focus upon a happy memory from its life – the method that usually worked with the spirits of humans. But first I wanted to question Abuskai about the daemonic entity in the well.
    ‘
There are magical barriers in place that prevent my escape. Alive or dead, I am no longer needed by those who now rule my people. I am discarded. What a fool I have been! I was the one who helped to bring about the change in the first place!
’
    ‘What change?’ I asked quietly.
    ‘
The birth of our god, Talkus
,’ the ghost replied. ‘
I helped to bring it about. I created the foundation upon which he was constructed.
’
    Talkus was the Kobalos god who’d been born as the Fiend died. The horned Fiend, once the most powerful of the Old Gods, had been bad enough. He had been able to make himself far larger than a human and halt time, making his victims powerless whilst he snatched their souls. He had been the source of power for many malevolent witches and other dark creatures and wished to dwell permanently on Earth and bring to it a new age of darkness.
    However, Talkus was far worse. Whereas the Fiend demanded that humans submit to him, Talkus wished to destroy the human race – except for the females, who would be permanently enslaved to the Kobalos. He had the shape of a skelt, a creature with many legs and a bone-tube which it thrust into the flesh of humans to drain their blood. But perhaps the most terrifying thing of all was that because Talkus was a new god his powers were unknown. Talkus might be capable of