Curse Of The Dark Wind (Book 6) (40 page)

With a shrug he goes to back to examining the moss and sees the corner of a marble step sticking out of the mound. Hacking away with his sabers and taking several breaks to catch his breath, Luke gradually reveals a dais holding a throne of pure white wood. The rotted remains of a cushion are on the seat and one of the arms is dotted with blue, spiral mushrooms. A crystal star is set into the top of the throne, but it has been cracked in half by the orchid that has sprouted from its core. Luke touches the crystal, which causes it to fall onto the filthy seat and leave behind a tapestry of roots that are embedded in the wood.

“Why does my throne room get destroyed and Sari’s is left alone?” Luke asks as he stares at the frozen ceiling. He sees the remains of a mural depicting Uli the Elven Warrior Goddess, her eyes two small domes of frosted glass. “It’s going to take a long time to clean this up. Maybe my friends can do it while I practice, which sounds rather mean now that I say it out loud. Why couldn’t someone get lost with me? I’m bored . . . and worried that the Dark Wind is up to something. Anybody or anything in here?”

A tightness grows in Luke’s chest before the ivy-covered wall shakes and Dark Wind billows from the expanding tunnel opening. As a ringing appears in the warrior’s ears, a ball-shaped storm rockets into the room and smashes through the throne. No bigger than the half-elf’s head, this compacted maelstrom screeches while bouncing in random directions. Luke feels a sense of dread overtake his body, but he keeps enough control to avoid locking up from fear. He dodges the storm as it leaves dents in the floor and walls, the strange object seeming to aim for the lone occupant.

When Luke leaps over the ball, he is struck in the side by a second storm that rockets out of the tunnel. The forest tracker is sent crashing into the overturned table where he hacks up more globs of Dark Wind. Rolling out of the wreckage, he avoids getting hit and scrambles to his feet. The shattering of glass gives him enough warning to backflip over a third compact storm, the painful pop of his strained muscles causing him to land on his face. From his back, Luke uses his sabers to block the attacks and desperately crawls into the corner. More storms come through the windows and tunnel, each one heading directly for him and ricocheting off his weapons. The half-elf’s body aches from the strain of defending himself and he can feel the Dark Wind roiling in his stomach. A primal excitement touches his mind and he realizes that the living curse knows what is happening.

“You’re not going to win,” Luke defiantly growls. The Ring of Uli awakens and his sabers are coated in pink aura, giving him the strength to stand. “I’m not afraid of you!”

Lightning crackles through the storms and they draw back, converging on the empty mirror frame. They whirl around the clattering object, lifting it onto the dais and hurling the rotted remains of the throne across the room. Once the mirror is safely on the platform, the storms build up speed and repeatedly pass through the gaping center. With a loud crinkling, the glass reforms and reveals a dungeon bathed in hellish light. Swinging manacles hang off rough stone walls and the floor is littered with bones, each one showing signs of being gnawed on by large teeth. The maelstrom orbs pass into the backside of the mirror and a churning form materializes on the surface. Curved blades hungrily rising and retracting on its forearms, the Meraphor steps out of the glass and faces the half-elf.

“I will defeat my prey,” the creatures hisses in a pained voice. Its movements are slow as it walks down the steps and points at its enemy. “My torture will end.”

“I was kind of hoping you were a dream,” Luke nervously admits as he moves out of the corner.

The young warrior bravely approaches the Meraphor, but falls to his knees when he gets within a few steps of the creature. His torso burns and a primal fear grips his nerves, making it a challenge to stand and raise his sabers. The monster rushes forward with its fist pulled back and Luke clumsily rolls away. His face is struck by shards of stone that fly from the Meraphor’s strike to the floor and he uses the ivy on the nearby wall to drag himself to his feet. Taking a shuddering breath, the forest tracker leaps away from the next attack and keeps running to gain some distance. The monster roars as shattered ice falls off the rear wall and buries the swirling creature up to its waist.

“You don’t like the cold,” Luke says as he sheathes one of his sabers. He hurls a snowball at the monster, but the projectile harmlessly explodes on its face. “Okay, you couldn’t care less about being cold. You’re only angry that you missed. Rather irritable and focused for a simple beast, so I’m guessing you’re a present from Stephen.”

“You are my prey, whelp. I will become whole through you. I taste your fear again.”

“Working on fixing that fear problem,” Luke hisses, enjoying the adrenaline that keeps the living curse at bay. He feels like it has been an eternity since his blood pumped with such exhilaration. “I have to thank you for giving me this thrill again. Might be just what I needed to beat the Dark Wind.”

“That is mine.”

The Meraphor roars and charges Luke, its bladed arms stretching longer than its patchwork body. A few nimble jumps and flips is all the half-elf can do before he is struck by a wave of primal fear. His frustration is etched on his pale face as he backs away and forces himself to block the jerky attacks of the creature. The burning across his chest returns whenever the Meraphor’s slashing limbs come within an inch of his body. Gasping for air, Luke focuses on his sabers and the pink energy crackles back to life. He severs one of his enemy’s arms, which disintegrates before it hits the floor, but he is unable to avoid a punch to the shoulder. A surge of intense pain sends him crashing to the ground while the Meraphor collapses in agony.

Both combatants writhe on the floor and fight to be the first one to recover. Luke is barely aware of a high-pitched voice calling his name and the sensation of curse-infused blood seeping from his shoulder wound. His eyes are locked on the Meraphor, which is already on its knees and growing spikes from its body. The half-elf crawls to the dais and manages to stand on shaky legs, Dark Wind and blood dripping from his mouth.

Unleashing a room-shaking roar, the Meraphor leaps at the weakened forest tracker. Luke braces himself against the marble steps and holds out his sabers, his ring’s aura coiling around the weapons. With a tight spin, he ducks under the lashing arm and uses his blades to flip the Meraphor over his head. The creature hits the mirror and remains hanging upside down before Luke lunges forward to slam his sabers into its chest. With a gentle hiss, the maelstrom body of the monster turns into Dark Wind and sinks into the glass where the writhing curse settles on the floor of the eerie dungeon.

“Luke okay?” Fizzle asks as he comes through a window and lands on his friend’s shoulder. “Fizzle track Luke aura. Fizzle push to limits and tired. Luke? Luke?”

Walking to the bottom of the marble dais, the warrior silently stares at the mirror. His eyes are vacant and cycle from their bright green to a chocolate brown to a deep black. His arms dangling at his sides, Luke slips into a thoughtless trance and obediently waits for whatever is going to come next.

*****

Fire-wrapped lightning blasts a hole in the floor, sending several monsters crashing into the caverns below the castle. Nyx hurls spell after spell at the surrounding horde in the hopes of forging a path that they can escape through. At her back, Delvin parries and slashes at anything that comes within reach of his blade. He fights through the pain of a broken collarbone, the thought of Nyx being overrun giving him the strength to continue fighting. Whenever she shifts to attack another part of the mob, he fluidly steps with her to protect her rear. The monsters are startled when a sucking sound erupts from their right, but the adventurers ignore the noise. They know it only means that a creature fell into the entrance tunnel and has been sent to the maelstrom room. It is only a matter of time before the clumsy monster is back within the ranks of the savage mob.

The variety of monsters keeps the pair on edge as they have no idea what to expect from the crowd. Pulsing orbs float through the air and split into two independent creatures when slashed by Delvin or deflate if struck by Nyx’s spells. Rapidly spinning creatures deflect her fireballs while the warrior skillfully hacks off their solitary foot at the rotating ankle. Gigantic hulks with wart-covered skin smash through their own forces to attack with poison-barbed fists, only to be incinerated or decapitated by one of the determined adventurers. The sky above the roofless courtyard is filled with winged beasts that screech and dive while avoiding the hurtling spells of Nyx.

“We’re going to be overrun,” Delvin whispers, slicing a wooden creature in half and stomping on the head of an approaching serpent. He grinds his boot against the cobblestones and blocks a spear-like tongue that erupts from the mob. “Can you cast anything stronger?”

“I’m throwing all that I can without hurting you or destroying the entire building,” Nyx replies as she sends a wave of phantasmal blades into the crowd. She sprints forward to claim some ground, but only gets as far as the first line of bodies before the path is blocked. “They swarm into the gaps too quickly for us to advance. I hope the others didn’t get dropped into a horde like we did. Luke would be dead in an instant.”

“Don’t think that way,” the warrior warns while he backs against her and spins when she turns around. His longsword beheads a pouncing beast and he kicks the six-limbed body back into the mob. “The others will be fine and so will we. All we need is a place to take cover and come up with a plan. Can you protect us with a shield spell?”

“I wouldn’t be able to hold it for very long here. The monsters would put too much pressure on the spell and the aura of this place is making me feel sick,” she answers, giving up on using a variety of attacks. She sends fireball after fireball into the crowd, occasionally clenching her fist to make one of her spells explode into a spray of acidic flames. “If we had a structure to get inside then I could use it as a basis. It would be more of an enhancement than a shield, which puts the strain more on the building than my body.”

“I see a shed or something to your left. Though it might be an outhouse,” Delvin mentions as he parries and disembowels one of the larger monsters. “Guess we shouldn’t be picky and I doubt an outhouse has been used in centuries in this place. Care to lead the way?”

“Stay behind me, but not too close.”

Once she feels Delvin step away, Nyx bursts into flames that crackling with lightning and spray acid around her. With her best attempt at an intimidating scream, the half-elf charges and crashes into the mob. Screeches and roars echo throughout the garden as the slower creatures die before her destructive cocoon. Nyx increases her strength to help knock away the larger beasts that can resist her spells, using their bodies to injure the smaller enemies. The sound of Delvin breathing heavy and slashing away at monsters helps put her at ease as she breaks through the far side of the mob. Making a mad sprint for the flat-topped shed, she nearly hits the warrior when he runs ahead to open the door. Spinning around, Nyx sends her coating of churning magic into the horde and dives into the building as the spells explode.

“Hold it shut!” she yells as Delvin comes in and slams the door. She focuses and presses her palms against the wooden floor, covering the structure in defensive magic. “The weak point is beneath our feet and I think I scared them with that last attack, so we have some time. Looks like this is a gardening shed, but there’s no food or water. I’d say we can last a day or two before we’re too weak to fight.”

“You think the situation is that bad?” her companion asks, sheathing his sword. He struggles to get his chainmail off and winces at the pain in his empty shield arm. “I need to rest and think of a way to tend to this injury. Maybe you can channel a way out of this when we’re ready.”

The caster helps him with his armor, her fingers grazing his bruised flesh. “I don’t think it works that way. Give me some time to think of a way to help you. If it was a cut then I could use fire to cauterize, but a broken bone is too delicate for me.”

“I have a patch to help. Always keep a few for emergencies.”

Delvin pulls a square of yellow, gauze-like material out of a belt pouch. Carefully feeling around his injured shoulder, he searches for where it hurts the most. He takes in a sharp breath and sits on the floor when a shock of pain races up his neck and down his side. Pressing the gauze to the spot, he hisses the activation word and the material melts into his skin. He grits his teeth while the patch wraps around the damaged bone and sets it with an audible snap.

“I’d make a sling, but I don’t know if we’ll need to move quickly. I find it better to have a limp arm than a restrained one,” Delvin says as he stands and leans against a rack of clay planters. He watches Nyx peek out the window at the crowd of monsters, her anxiety revealed by the tight grip she has on her necklace. “So what do you think about being a channeler? Also, I’m sorry about trying to protect you before. What’s gotten into you lately? You know, I think Sari is getting suspicious of your feelings for Luke.”

The half-elf turns around with her mouth opening and closing in confusion. “None of that has anything to do with each other. How am I supposed to talk to you about this when I don’t even know where to start? Besides, we have more important things.”

“We’re trapped and have to wait for the others to fix the temple. All we can do is talk until we’re rescued or figure out a way to battle through our new friends. Maybe our incessant talking will bore the monsters and they’ll go away.”

“Fine, but we talk about getting out of here in ten minutes or when I get annoyed,” Nyx explains, moving to stand next to the warrior. She crosses her arms and thinks about his questions, deciding to handle the easy ones first. “Apology accepted and I’m sorry too. I’m having trouble accepting that I can’t save Luke like before. It’s maddening and I feel like I’m failing him because I can’t cure him with a wave of my hand. Trust me when I say that someone is going to have to hold me back the next time we see Stephen. I want to feed him his own tongue and set his lungs on fire as well as a few . . . evil things. I guess that’s why Sari is having issues with me. She knows Luke and I are close like siblings, but she’s never seen our bond pushed to this extent. With her admitting that she wants Luke for herself, Sari doesn’t want to have to compete with both me and Kira. I’ll talk to her when we’re done here and smooth everything over.”