Sleeper Of The Wildwood Fugue (Book 7) (34 page)

“I can see you’re going to be more interesting than your predecessors,” the Ifrit says, his eyes glinting with a burning interest. The lesser demon watches as a stone door slides open on the floor and a stairwell descends from the opening. “Only twenty other groups made it beyond this test and they always had at least one casualty. You’re the first to make it through with a caster champion.”

“That was surprisingly easy,” Luke admits as he walks toward the stairs. When he steps within reach of Sutter, the Ifrit grabs his arm and plucks the Ring of Uli off his finger. “What are you doing? We beat your test!”

“I have a love of rings,” he replies, tucking the item into his pocket. He sniffs at the dormant feast ring and spits in disgust at the weak magic. “I should have mentioned that a previous champion had an intense hatred of enchanted jewelry. So I have orders to confiscate any that get used within the temple. I promise you will get it back if you survive. Come to think of it, my potential vic . . . mistress has an item that falls into this category. Probably best to hand it over now.”

Nyx covers her body in blue flames as she glares at the Ifrit. “Try to take my mother’s bracelet and you won’t be alive to see us pass the next test. Now where do we go and what must we do?”

“As if your mortal fire intimidates me,” Sutter whispers, absorbing Nyx’s flames through his palms. A groan of ecstasy escapes his lips and his body turns light blue to match the powerful fire he ingested. “I like your fire, so you may retain your keepsake. I have some errands to attend to. Go down the stairs and tell Cudgel I say hello. Hopefully, we’ll meet again.”

The Ifrit’s body turns into a cloud of ashes and rises through the ceiling, leaving a layer of soot on the stone. Nyx is already heading down the stairs by the time the others stop staring at the lesser demon’s departure. Timoran is the last to enter the narrow stairwell, his massive frame cramped between the warm walls. Once his head is clear of the entrance, a slab of basalt slides out of the floor and seals the champions inside.

*****

“Let me in!” Stephen screams at the front door of Helgard. Eyes twitching and foam at the corners of his mouth, he beats on the solid stone. “Those champions are mine! I want them! I deserve them! Give them to me!”

Unleashing a feral shriek, he slams his head against the entrance and stumbles back with blood seeping from his forehead. The clunk of a lock can be heard and the doorway opens, prompting Stephen to proudly walk toward the opening. He stops when the towering form of Sutter steps out of the darkness. The Ifrit raises his hands and geysers of lava erupt from the basalt field, the molten rock flowing into his body. With an intimidating roar, the creature doubles in size and grows a pair of curved horns that end in heated tips.

“Leave this place and wait to see if they survive,” Sutter says, cautiously eyeing the smaller being. When Stephen appears in front of his face, he drives the man to the ground with quick puff of air from his nostrils. “You know the rules, little Kernaghan. Do what you want to the other temples, but Helgard is not to be touched. That was the deal your father and I made centuries ago.”

“I don’t care,” Stephen growls, crouching like a cornered animal. “They’ve wronged me too many times. I need to remove them and get my . . . my . . . Dariana took something from me. I don’t know what it is, but I want it back.”

Sutter bends down to sniff at the tiny man, the creature’s face wrinkling in disgust. “You reek of darkness. You were always a being of evil, but it was never this potent. I’m curious as to what she did to you.”

“Then send her out to face me!” the crazed man roars, tearing chunks of black hair out of his head. The clumps reappear immediately, but there is blood on their tips. “I feel wrong. My confidence, my pride, and everything that I cherished is locked away. All I know is that I want to be fixed and . . . I want the channeler. I need the channeler. She will be mine and we will breed a new race of immortals.”

“Now you truly overstep your bounds,” the Ifrit declares, his skin crackling as it grows a covering of solid basalt. “The channeler is mine. Leave our doorstep of your own power or I will force you out.”

“You know what happens to you if she conquers Helgard.”

“I will see how things play out, but without your intrusion.”

“Don’t make me kill you, you overgrown fire sprite.”

Sutter shrinks to his normal size, but his left arm is still massive and covered with fiery stone. He shatters the limb’s coating when he punches Stephen, sending the man flying onto the path. With a powerful stomp, the Ifrit sends a quake through the ground that shatters the protective shell around the walkway. The broken arches crackle to life and batter Stephen with a barrage of combat spells. He is driven back by the fireballs, lightning bolts, and heat bursts as the doors of Helgard close in front of Sutter. Five spells converge on the enraged man and explode, launching him into the dunes. He gets to his feet, smoke drifting off his damaged body that immediately heals.

“I’m not done with you,” Stephen hisses while wiping sand off his clothes.

“Stop causing trouble and come back to Shayd,” Trinity requests as she appears from over the dune. The chaos elf nimbly slides down the slippery glass and lands next to her ally, her black clothes releasing a spray of cooling mist. “You need to see your father and get help. So calm down and I’ll call Yola for a portal. She’s watching us now, but we want you to regain some control before we bring you back.”

“Leave me alone, you worthless whore,” Stephen snaps, grabbing the woman by the neck and hurling her to the ground. A predatory glint is in his eyes as he watches the chaos elf stand and rub her throat. “Maybe I’ve spoken too soon. You’re a channeler like Nyx. Not to the same degree of power, but having a child with you would be useful. I don’t even have to wait for the proper amount of time. I can impregnate you and speed up your body to get the baby in a matter of hours. Not sure what it would do to you, but it’s better to test this idea on someone expendable.”

“Your father told you to be nice,” Trinity states, backing away from the leering man. Her pulse is pounding with fear and she transforms her clothing into a tight suit of leather that locks around her neck. “I don’t want to do anything if you’re like this. Not that I get any real pleasure from being with you, but you’re too dangerous to indulge. Just come back to Shayd with me and I’ll do what you want when you’re better.”

“You’re lying.”

“Only one way to find out.”

“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you this scared.”

“I’ve never been this close to a true monster before.”

“I’m not a monster!”

“Your aura says differently.”

Stephen pounces on Trinity and covers her mouth with his hand, tightening his grip when she bites his palm. She repeatedly slaps at his face, but her blows are ignored even when her palm gems leave cuts on his cheeks. Kicking at his stomach, she manages to flip him over her head, but the hold he has on her face puts her straddling his stomach. He lets go of her mouth to violently smack her in the head, dazing the young woman enough for him to slam her onto the ground. When he hooks the collar of her shirt and starts to tear it down the middle, Trinity’s body locks up and she closes her tear-filled eyes.

“That’s more like it,” Stephen whispers into her ear. His voice drips with venom and he grins down at the shivering chaos elf. “Do your people proud and continue sacrificing your dignity. I’m sure they appreciate all that you do for them, great Queen Trinity.”

“I have had enough!”

Trinity melts into the sand to escape Stephen’s grasp, but she rises in the same spot, her hands against his chest. The burst of magic sends him flying onto the basalt field where he hits with enough force to crack the surface. An explosion of lava hurls him into the air and he lands behind the aura-covered caster. She gets a shield up in time to cushion the backhand to her side, but she is still sent tumbling into the dunes. Fueled by years of pent up fury, the chaos elf sends a wave of sand toward Stephen, which she dives into. When he refuses to move, she transforms the sand into a wall of acid that engulfs him. Melted nearly to the bone, the madman stares at the painful damage in disbelief. As the wave comes around for another pass, he dissipates the spell and throws a punch at where he expects Trinity to be. Nothing is there and he is defenseless when she bursts from the nearby dune, her fist covered in violet glass. The strike hits his face and the makeshift glove shatters, sending painful shards into his raw skin.

Stephen laughs at the pain and picks the biggest piece of glass out of his flesh. He waits for Trinity to attack again and disappears when she is an inch away. The clean snap of her leg and her scream echo off the mountain as Stephen reappears behind her. A violent punch to her stomach knocks the caster into the dunes so that only her face and hands are left above the surface. Grabbing Trinity by the throat, he yanks her out of the desert tomb and breaks her jaw with flick of his thumb.

“Maybe I underestimated your power,” he says as he crushes her right hand. The whimpering scream she releases makes him lick his lips. “I always caught a stronger scent from Nyx, but perhaps I’ve simply grown accustomed to you. There is immense power within your body, so I should take some time to investigate it further. I can nurture your brutality and rage until I have another worthy queen. Still you have that irritating love of your people, which prevents you from doing great things. I think it’s time I stopped pampering you and removed your greatest weakness. The world won’t mourn the loss of the chaos elves and we’ll create a new, better version of your people.”

The enhancer gem in Trinity’s forehead glows and sinks deeper into her skin, causing blood to trickle down her face. She screams at the top of her lungs, which is drowned out by a mad cackling from above. Stephen tries to crush her throat, but finds that he has been paralyzed by whatever spell the chaos elf is casting. Before he can free himself, a piece of flaming rock strikes him from behind. It bursts through his chest and rockets back into the sky where it explodes among the clouds. Stephen’s body is freed from the paralysis and he slumps to the ground, dragging Trinity down with him.

“Summoning sky rock is a forbidden spell,” he growls while he struggles to repair his lungs and heart. “For that, I’m going to pop your head off.”

A black and white hand grabs Stephen by the back of his shirt while another frees Trinity from his grasp. With a casual toss, Yola Biggs throws him through a gaping portal of green and black energy. She delicately cradles the severely injured chaos elf in her arms and tries to remember how to heal. A few tears dance down her face as she examines the wounds that cover her best friend’s body. Opening her mouth to speak, the Chaos Goddess stops when a quivering finger touches her lips.

“Don’t even try it, Yola,” Trinity weakly whispers, flashing a smirk. “I don’t want you to turn me into something silly. Take me home and the priestesses can tend to me.”

“Are you sure you don’t have to go back to Bor’daruk?” Yola asks, listening to the sound of someone getting beaten on the other side of the portal. “They might notice you’re gone from your post.”

“The real Eileen has been revived and has my memories of what happened. Well with a few important changes so she believes it was her,” the chaos elf answers, examining her crushed hand. She feels nauseous from starting that the torn meat and splintered bones. “I’m really tired. That sky snipe spell took a lot out of me. One mistake and I could have destroyed the entire desert. I need to rest and heal. Goodnight, Yola.”

Trinity’s eyes close as she is carried through the portal by the whistling goddess. Even in her sleep, she smiles when a gloved hand touches her blood-soaked forehead. The warmth of healing magic repairs her body and she slips into a blissful dream. If she was awake, she would notice the empty room is covered in dents and splattered with blood. Stephen’s gasping form remains sprawled in a corner, his powers struggling to replace his limbs and organs.

“Sleep well, my little queen,” the Baron whispers. He gives Trinity a kiss on the cheek and turns back to his crazed son.

18

The vast sand pit stretches so far that it takes Fizzle a few seconds to fly across at his top speed. Stepping off the winding staircase, the adventurers see there are no other doorways besides the one leading back to the upper floor. It is obvious that the shifting sand will suck them under if they try to step into the pit, an idea tested by Sari sacrificing one of her daggers. They are forced to remain on the stone path that runs along the edge of the room while Fizzle darts around in search of a clue to the test. He examines the dome-like ceiling, which is covered in crags and pockets that hold nothing more than sand. An occasional rumble makes everyone stop, but nothing happens and they continue in silence for several minutes.

“Room strange,” Fizzle announces in a loud voice. Everyone tries to make him lower his voice, but the drite stares at them in confusion. “No danger in room. Fizzle not give us away. Friends need to calm.”

“There’s something here,” Dariana says, leaning against the rough wall and taking a deep breath. “I can feel the thoughts of something ancient in here. Wasn’t Cudgel the name next to the dragon picture, Nyx?”

“Yes, but this would be a terrible place for a Verenstone,” the caster replies, scratching her head with the scepter. She sends a few light orbs into the air, hoping to reveal a large opening in the ceiling. “There would be no way for it to get to the volcano or the open air. Cudgel would either starve or go insane and smash its way out.”

Luke inches toward the edge of the path and stares into the sand, his senses picking up some subtle movements. “Unless it’s a different type of dragon. There’s something big down there and it’s breathing. The moving sand makes it hard to get a clear view. I can get a vague idea of its size and shape, which reminds me of a dragon. Isn’t there a rare type of Nature Dragon that lives in the desert?”

“The Aquestar Dragons,” Sharne states with a sigh of relief. “They are peaceful giants that swim beneath the sands. I’ve never seen one before, but they are known to exist in the central region of the desert.”

“At least they’re peaceful,” Nyx mutters, secretly wishing her temple had a Verenstone Dragon.

“That makes me more worried,” Delvin interjects, crouching to get a better look at the moving grains. Their motion looks like that of a restlessly sleeping creature, the body never breaking the surface. “Cudgel’s constantly churning the sand and keeping it loose. Spread out in case he wakes up and tries to attack. If we’re together then we’re easier targets. At least this dragon won’t spit fire, right?”

“Blinding sand to allow them to escape an enemy or eat their prey,” Sharne replies, taking a seat against the wall. “I’m sorry, but I’m exhausted. Would it be alright if Dariana and I stay in this spot? I prefer to have someone be with me since I’m not a warrior or caster.”

“If this is a dragon then I offer to be the one to stay with you,” Timoran states while patting his axe. “I am the strongest here and am used to fighting while carrying another person. I would be able to get you to safety in the event of an attack.”

“Thank you, Sir Wrath.”

Delvin grips the barbarian by the shoulder and smiles. “Sharne is in good hands. Don’t worry about the rest of us until you get her into the stairwell. Everyone take your positions with Fizzle sticking to the ceiling. If you see anything strange happening then shout. If Cudgel hasn’t woken up yet then we don’t have to worry too much.”

The adventurers divide into two groups with Luke and Dariana heading to the left and the remaining three walking to the right. Each member stops after they think they have moved far enough away, keenly aware that there will be a lot of space between them. The last person to continue along the path is Nyx who knocks on the scepter as if it will give her a hint. Even though she can see her friends, she feels alone and exposed on the path. She imagines the dragon appearing and focusing on her, the others too far away to help. More terrifying is the thought that one of her friends might be attacked and she will be helpless to save them. Nyx is so lost in her thoughts that she does not see the small bell hanging from the ceiling until it skims the top of her hair.

“This is weird and a little too obvious,” she mutters while examining the bell from a distance. The silver is tarnished and there is no clapper in the body, which makes her wonder if it is broken. “I found a broken bell over here! I don’t know what I should do!”

“I say ring it,” Sari replies, her voice surprisingly clear across the distance. She makes a few experimental noises, enjoying the clarity of sound. “I think the room was enchanted to make it easier to speak across the pit. This is a very strange place. It doesn’t feel like a very deadly test to me. We’re safe as long as we stay off the sand and avoid the dragon.”

“There is the problem of there being no way out,” Timoran says, helping Sharne to her feet. He moves her between him and the wall, his great axe held tightly in his hands. “If this is a test then we either have to jump into the sand or call the dragon. Personally, I do not like either of those options.”

Delvin puts his sword and shield on the ground before laying near the side of the pit. He waves for Fizzle to hover near him, the drite’s presence helping to ease his nerves. Realizing he is too far away, he inches closer until he is peeking over the edge. The warrior places his hand on the cool sand and braces himself to get dragged under. Instead, he is left alone and can easily put his arm in and out of the grainy dirt.

“If the sand is the key then we’d have to hit it just right, which means we should find a clue about the perfect spot,” Delvin announces as he rolls away from the edge. He straps his shield back in place and shakes the sand out of his sleeve before picking up his sword. “Even if there was a clue, we’d be smashed by the dragon. He’s constantly moving, so I don’t see a safe place to go down.”

“It could be a magic portal,” Dariana suggests while she checks the wall. “We could have to jump in at a certain spot, which transports us to another room. Though I don’t see how that is much of a test because it appears to be dependent on luck.”

“Maybe we should have visited one of Cessia’s temples before coming here,” Sari says with a half-hearted smile. She juggles a coin with a jester cap on both sides, a symbol of her favorite goddess. “I pray to her all the time, but I don’t know if she’s helping me right now. Something tells me I used up my luck surviving the desert.”

“I say summon the dragon!” Luke impatiently shouts.

The gypsy laughs and tries to flick some water at the half-elf, the spurt falling into the sand pit. “You would say that, hero. I vote for trying to go back up the stairs. We might have missed a clue along the way or in the bonfire room.”

“Sutter would have said something,” Delvin argues to the incredulous coughs and mumbling of his friends. “I’d like to think he would. I say we keep searching for a clue down here. There’s that area between Luke and Nyx that nobody has checked out. Maybe there’s a hidden switch or a trapdoor.”

Everyone freezes when they hear the shrill ringing that echoes throughout the room. Nyx lazily bats at the bell with the scepter and leans against the wall. The sand sinks as the dragon wakes and prepares to emerge from the deep pit. It is not until the bulbous eyes blink their multiple eyelids that the adventurers realize the Aquestar Dragon is rising. The short-snouted reptile’s scales blend perfect with the sand, making it difficult to see where its long neck ends and the shifting earth begins. A frill of sand fans out around its head, showering the adventurers with grains that sting their eyes. Two powerful arms burst out and crash onto the path, one of the long-nailed hands missing Delvin by a few feet. When the groggy beast yawns, it reveals that it does not have any teeth.

“I didn’t expect guests,” Cudgel admits in a surprisingly feminine voice. She sniffs at the air and her tongue runs along her scaly lips. “There’s an ocean princess in here. Which one of you is it? I haven’t had any fresh, cold water in centuries. Mean old Sutter only gives me warm rain that he gathers from the volcano’s mouth.”

They watch the dragon’s head wave around in search of Sari, who is pressing her body against the wall. Not sure what else to do, she is ready to throw a dagger when Cudgel takes in a deep breath. Nobody moves as the dragon aims for an empty spot between Luke and Nyx. A gusher of sand erupts from her mouth and the compact sandstorm spreads along the path. The caster puts up a wall of wind that deflects the attack back into the pit, but Luke is knocked down by something metal hidden within the wave. As he gets to his feet, Cudgel gets closer and presses him against the wall with her dry, scaly nose.

“I don’t think it’s you,” the dragon says, pushing Luke aside and moving toward Nyx. She misses the caster and stops at Delvin, the warrior raising his sword for a strike. “I wouldn’t bother with that . . . longsword. Can the naiad say something, so I can find her? I’m really thirsty.”

“Over here, ma’am,” Sari replies, timidly raising her hand. The yellow dragon whirls around, squinting until she finds the gypsy. “Are you blind?”

“No, but my eyesight is terrible,” Cudgel explains, looming over the blue-haired girl. “I’d greatly appreciate a drink of fresh water. Are you really a naiad? You don’t seem like one now that I have a better look at you. Your hair is right, but the rest of you is oddly human. Oh, you must be partial blooded. I don’t suppose you’re strong enough to make me a drink.”

Nyx claps her hands, creating a burst of thunder that draws the dragon’s attention. The two come face to face with the half-elf defiantly staring the giant reptile in the eye. She is gently knocked against the wall by a puff of air from Cudgel’s nostrils, which comes with enough sand to bury Nyx up to her neck. No longer interested in the annoying caster, the dragon begins to turn back to Sari. She abruptly goes in the other direction and stops at Dariana, recognizing the silver-haired woman.

“It’s been a long time, little one,” Cudgel claims with a toothless grin. She sees the tension on the woman’s face and pouts. “Apparently, you’ve forgotten about me again. So what brings you here?”

“Sutter sent us here for the next test,” Dariana replies, sensing the dragon’s calm and curious thoughts. “We expected you to be the test, but it seems all of us, including yourself, are confused.”

“Oh, you’re champions!” the Aquestar Dragon happily exclaims, her frill shaking sand in every direction. She turns back to Sari and opens her mouth, causing the gypsy to cringe. “You must be kind and powerful if you’re a champion. Can I have a drink?”

“Persistent and oddly docile,” Timoran whispers while he relaxes his muscles. “You did say they were peaceful dragons, Sharne. It would appear that Cudgel is more interested in water than meat.”

“Meat? That has blood and that’s just disgusting,” the dragon declares, opening her mouth wider. Streams of sand dribble out of her mouth as a dry breath rolls from her parched throat. “My kind only needs water and salt. That’s why we take weekly trips to the ocean or the hidden reserves. At least I would if I wasn’t put in here by somebody. There’s no way out and I’d really like a cold drink, naiad girl.”

“Give her a drink, Sari,” Luke urges the gypsy.

Moving away for some breathing room, Sari spins and makes the fluid gestures for a geyser spell. The water explodes from her chest and hits Cudgel’s swollen tongue, which happily splashes in the cold liquid. The dragon hungrily gulps down the drink, forcing Sari to cast the spell five more times. By the time the beast has had her fill, the gypsy has fallen to her knees and is gasping. She can feel her aura returning and stands in time to get licked from foot to face by the dragon.

“I don’t like this test,” Sari whimpers, shuddering from the sensation of thick drool on her body. “Can you let us pass now?”

“I can’t believe Sutter is still claiming that I’m a test,” Cudgel says before she dries Sari off with a burst of hot air from her nostrils. With a tired sigh, she puts her head on the path near Nyx, but it takes a few minutes for her to find the caster. “I admit that I’ve killed three groups of champions, minus Dariana, but it was in self-defense, milady. They attacked me as soon as they rang my dinner bell. I’m not one of Sutter’s tests. He can starve me as much as he wants, but I won’t betray my true nature. Besides, the only reason I’m here is because somebody thought a dragon would make a scary guardian for the crypt below. I told Sutter and Nuerin that they wanted a Verenstone and made several recommendations. By the way, you didn’t hear me mention Nuerin. That’s a secret.”

“I promise to set you free when I take over Helgard,” Nyx swears, bowing to the towering reptile. “May we enter the crypt and take the next test?”

“Of course,” the dragon answers with a small nod to the half-elf. She disappears under the sand, but returns shortly afterwards with a sheepish expression. “I haven’t had to open the crypt in a really long time, so I forgot exactly where the switch is down there. My eyelids make my poor eyesight even worse and I seem to have misplaced my glasses. They have metal frames and thick lenses.”

“I think I got hit by them when you used your breath weapon,” Luke admits as he sifts through piles of sand around him. Cudgel blows all of the mounds away, knocking the half-elf off his feet and revealing the glasses. “Glad to be of help. This might not be a test, but it’s definitely more of a headache than the bonfire room.”

Cudgel puts her glasses on and frowns at the cracks running through her lens. The thick panes of glass are badly damaged and they give her a throbbing headache. Sinking under the sand, she eventually finds a large crank in a corner and turns it, shaking her broken glasses off now that she no longer needs them. A square tower of basalt blocks rises out of the center of the sand pit, stopping when it hits the ceiling. The exposed part of the pillar creaks as it leans forward and slowly falls to create a narrow path to the walkway. Cudgel emerges and breathes glittering sand onto the central platform, creating a swirling vortex to the crypt. The sweet smell of incense wafts from the opening, putting the champions on edge.