The Bonding (The Song and the Rhythm) (66 page)

Reacting instinctively, Vaun ducked and slashed at the hand grabbing at him. The woven steel sliced into the black hand, causing whatever was in the pool to howl with rage and pain.

To Vaun, it felt like he cut through liquid fog. It also felt dirty and evil, and made his skin crawl and his hair stand on end. His sword arm felt like it was on fire, and his Vaulka screamed at him to be cleaned of the impure stuff. Even more shocking was what happened to the Song. It cut off again, this time sounding as if it might not return. Unlike the other times it had left him, he couldn’t feel it hovering anywhere in his thoughts. It was just…gone.

His sword slowed down as it passed through the hand, momentum the only thing that carried it all the way through. It came out the other side so fast, as if released suddenly from a tight grip, that Vaun stumbled forward and nearly lost his weapon.

Three of the fingers fell to the ground, where they splattered into puddles that hissed and steamed wickedly. Noxious black vapors rose from where they landed, choking Vaun and his companions who’d just now entered the room. When the smoke cleared, deep holes were left, looking to have been burned into the stone.

“By the Great God Himself, no!” Merdel stared numbly when he saw the hand with its three remaining fingers dip back down into the black pool. The wizard looked horrified, as well as a trifle astonished. He glanced with new respect at Vaun standing off to the side frantically cleaning the black substance off his sword blade.

Drath strode over to his companion and grabbed his arm. “Where’s Elak?”

“He went in there.” Vaun gestured with the ruined rag he’d used to clean his sword. He inspected the blade carefully, making sure all of that black substance was gone. It had made his sword feel like it was on fire.

*
*
*

Merdel glanced to where the Swordsman indicated and saw a pulsing white light deep in the alcove. His eyes widened when he realized what Elak had done, and he grabbed at Thorne beside him as he fled for the door.

“Get out! He’s set the portal back on itself. It’ll destroy this room and the whole fortress when it returns. We’ve got to hurry, or it’ll take us with it.” The mage suited action to words and was the first to bolt out the door.

As they reached to topmost level of the keep, an explosion shook the very mountain that served as its foundation. Stones plummeted from the ceiling as doorways and arched entrances collapsed into rubble. Mercenaries dodged past them, as frantic as they to escape alive. Coming out into the only tower-less courtyard, Rush spotted the raised drawbridge and sprinted towards it.

Reaching it first, the elf found it to be securely latched, and when Merdel stopped breathlessly beside him, he told Rush it was magically sealed. None of the mercenaries even approached it, telling the mage that none of them knew how to release it. Merdel worried he didn’t have the strength to counteract even these simple wards.

“Move!!” Merdel heard Vaun shout from behind him.

The bearded wizard barely had time to shout a hasty warning before he jumped aside to avoid the Swordsman’s slashing steel. The woven blade struck the magically secured chain and severed it, and Merdel noticed distractedly that the aura around Vaun flashed brightly at the contact.

*
*
*

As the wards broke, there followed a loud pop and a crackle. Vaun was propelled backward to land in a heap almost twenty yards away. To him, it felt like he’d cut through pure light. His Vaulka vibrated with the energy but felt able to withstand the shock of the magic’s destruction.

Drath hurried to help his friend up as the drawbridge fell ponderously outward with a great clattering of chains and a loud groaning of wood. It crashed onto the opposite side of the canyon with a boom that echoed off the walls of rock just behind the next explosion that shook the keep. As one, the six adventurers fled the Dark Wizard’s dying fortress.

The wood had splintered when the drawbridge struck the ground, and as Vaun stepped off the groaning and cracking bridge onto solid rock it collapsed completely. Merdel cried out from behind him, barely heard above another explosion that sprayed rock and dust into the air.

It was only Vaun’s Swordsman reflexes that saved the wizard’s life. The youth whirled in response to the itch in his side, one foot still poised over the abyss of the chasm gaping below him, and grasped Merdel’s outstretched hand.

The mage’s weight started to pull Vaun forward as Merdel fell, threatening to fling the two of them to their deaths. But Drath and Thorne grabbed Vaun around the waist and helped pull the gasping wizard to safety.

Mumbling a hasty thanks, unable to stop the thought that Vaun might not have saved him if the youth had known what he’d almost done in the tower, Merdel followed his companions in their effort to put as much distance between themselves and the fortress that slowly and violently destroyed itself.

They ran as fast and as far as they could, with the ground lurching under their feet and rocks large and small plummeting from the sky. Each of the party members fell at least twice, only to be hastily jerked upright by the strong, sure hands of another member of the group.

When they crested a small ridge just ahead, the air around them was sucked back toward the keep. Instinct drove the six to dive into the ravine below them, and the earth under them shook with the last massive detonation.

With a loud moaning and a thunderous crash, the Dark Wizard’s canyon stronghold plummeted to the bottom of the chasm a thousand feet below. Boulders, chunks of wood, mercenaries who didn’t escape, and great clouds of dust fountained a hundred feet into the air, obscuring the descending sun and striking the earth for leagues in all directions.

In the ravine, rocks and dust drifted over the companions, covering them in a shroud that made them look like bodies in a mass grave. It seemed an eternity before silence returned to the world, odd after so much noise. Slowly, the calls of birds and other animals broke the death-like quiet, letting the party members know that somehow they’d survived.

Rising stiffly, the six adventurers dusted themselves off and checked for serious wounds. Shallow scratches and cuts riddled Vaun’s body, but miraculously none of them were life-threatening, despite the number of men he’d fought. Drath’s left arm was immobile because of a deep gash left by a falling rock. Merdel said it would heal nicely once properly attended to.

Thorne claimed his head ached, but he was otherwise whole. Both Rush and Dart had multiple cuts and bruises, with Dart’s most serious injury being the loss of his prized longbow.

Merdel, too, had been cut and banged by flying debris, and he’d nearly passed out again from the exhaustion caused by his tremendous use of magic. He also claimed that the running he’d just done was never good for an old man like himself. He didn’t mention the pain he still felt at almost betraying his friends. That was by far his deepest wound.

Altogether, though, the companions were merely glad to be alive, welcoming the coming night. The sky was clear all across the horizon, telling them the rainy season was finally over. Not long after, winter would break, and warmth would slowly return to their world. Happily, it would be the natural warmth of spring, not one created by the meddling of a diabolical wizard.

“Well.” Merdel turned wearily to look at the clouds of dust and debris still rising into the air where the fortress used to stand. “That should set the man back a few years.”

*
*
*

The dying sun turned the snow covering the ground bright red and orange. The air smelled crisp and clean, promising a clear night. The companions saw squirrels and other small animals scurrying toward their homes to rest, prompting them to search for a place to bed down for the evening. Birds called from overhead, and from somewhere off to their right a mountain cat howled as it pounced on its prey.

A few wispy clouds scudded across the sky, hurrying almost apologetically away from the lands they had drenched for the last several weeks. After marching for two hours once the sun had disappeared, the adventurers found a suitable campsite.

“Vaun? What’s bothering you?” Drath had grown concerned for his young friend during their trek away from the fortress. He hadn’t spoken since leaving the place, and never once looked back. He had marched purposefully forward with an intense expression. Perhaps most disturbing of all was that he had walked in front of, not behind, the tall man all day. It was as if he wanted nothing more than to leave this place as quickly as possible. Drath wanted the same, but not to the degree that he refused to eat, as Vaun did.

Vaun didn’t move from where he squatted at the edge of the campsite. He sat in his customary position, legs crossed with his Vaulka resting atop his lap. His hands continuously stroked and caressed the bared steel, but Drath feared only briefly that he’d cut himself. If anyone could handle a weapon in such a way and not be hurt, it would be Vaun.

“Vaun? Did you hear me?”

The youth shifted before answering. “Aye, I heard you.”

Drath was taken aback by the youth’s sudden rudeness. “And…?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” Vaun’s voice sounded a little more controlled.

Drath scoffed. “You expect me to believe that?”

“No, I expect you to
respect
that.”

Drath frowned. Vaun had cleverly caught him. Now he couldn’t pursue his questioning without treating him like the unsure youth he once was.

Merdel was under no such restrictions, however. “I almost betrayed us all, Vaun. I almost joined with Elak and helped him murder the world. What’d you do?”

Drath, Rush, and Dart gasped when the mage said that, while Thorne’s mouth dropped open. Vaun shifted again, feeling like he’d just been cornered.

“It’s not something I did. It’s…that man. I knew that man.” His voice was tight and came from between clenched teeth.

“What man?” Drath shuddered at Vaun’s harsh tone. It seemed the youth was ready to kill anyone who dared ask him about it.

“The man who followed Elak into that portal.”

Merdel’s eyes narrowed in curiosity. “Was he tall, with ragged clothes, and carrying a rapier?”

Vaun nodded only once.

“That must be Lirix, Elak’s bodyguard. There’s no telling where Elak found him. I’ve heard he’s quite gifted with a blade.”

“He’s more than that.” Vaun sighed heavily. “He’s a Swordsman.”

Epilogue

Sean Matthews stepped into the blinding white light.
It didn’t hurt as much now; he supposed he’d grown used to it. After two years, he definitely should have.

Vaun Tarsus stepped from the portal and turned around. He saw nothing between the two stone columns, as always, but he looked nonetheless. He always wondered—
hoped?—
if perhaps one day he’d see a brief flash of the world he’d left behind before the portal closed. He never did. Merdel had told him it was impossible, but he thought it was fun to try. Perhaps his constant trying truly did mean he missed it, at least a little. Or maybe it was to remind him that he had more to fight for than just his own life.

Shrugging, Vaun turned back around and began the long trek downhill. He preferred this portal in southern Tapis over the others Merdel had given him scrolls to open. Tapis was such a lovely country, particularly in the spring: steep, rocky hills surrounded by flat, green plains and small forests scattered on every side. Being so far east, the sun took an eternity to go down, and the shadows during its long descent extended almost the length of the land. The almost ever-present clouds lazily rode the gentle breeze, catching the rays of the sun and deflecting them all across the sky in a myriad of colors. Proudly home to a wide variety of birds, the skies of Tapis were covered with large and small shapes winging and flapping their way home, their cries a surprisingly pleasant cacophony. Yes, Tapis was a beautiful land.

Vaun still could not suppress sighs of pleasure at walking these hills again. It usually took him several days to get over the euphoria of each visit, even when he used a portal in less pleasing surroundings. Merdel had carefully instructed him that he mustn’t use a portal twice in a row. The wizard had said it would make him easier to track, and it had some undesirable effect on the barriers. The Swordsman wasn’t sure what Merdel meant but knew he could trust the bearded mage in all things magical.

He told himself this would be a short visit. He’d been spending quite a bit of time here, so much so that his life in his home world was beginning to suffer. If he continued to ignore his obligations back home, he wasn’t going to get his master’s. His degree required two years of grad school, and if he failed he would have to repay his school fees to his parents. Even though he rarely saw them anymore, as long as he kept his grades up, they still paid for most of his schooling.

Of course, he mentally vowed that every adventure would be brief, but the last one had taken almost six months and nearly his life. He’d had to take summer courses afterwards to make up for everything he’d missed. His few friends were beginning to suspect something, as well. His long absences, frequently battered and injured appearance, not to mention his daily sword practice, all told them Sean Matthews was either very strange or hiding something. He did receive sympathy over his scars from the women he dated, and he enjoyed regaling them with tales of how he came by them. They never believed him, especially since he used his adventures as the basis for the stories he wrote, and told him he shouldn’t pretend to be one of his fictional characters.

Vaun grinned and took his eyes off the small trail he followed long enough to watch a few geese fly over. They were a bit larger than the ones in his own world, and they made a fine meal when he could manage to catch one. Dart had patiently tried to teach him the bow, but the Swordsman couldn’t get the Rhythm of it. Thorne had shown him how to prepare almost anything for a meal, and Vaun could now start a fire using two rocks and damp moss. Thorne wouldn’t let him travel by himself until he could.