The Compass Key (Book 5) (2 page)

“Somebody help me!” she shrieks, her voice echoing around the room. Her
words ebb into a whisper as she continues begging for help. “Make the pain stop. Please.”

“My wife sends her apologies,” says a sullen voice from behind Sari. She rolls over to see a tall, thin man wearing tattered rags and a sad expression on his angular face. His clothes show signs that they were once regal and something to envy. The stranger takes a deep breath before leaning down to look into Sari’s eyes. His black pupils hold a spark of unbreakable willpower that gives the gypsy enough strength to choke back her tears.

“Please fix my arm,” she whimpers, holding the mangled limb out to the man. The arm suddenly repairs itself with a savage twist and pinch. “Thank you.”

“Oh, that was not me, little gypsy,” the man admits. He is a
bout to extend a helping hand, but quickly pulls his limb away. “I am not sure if helping you up is against the law or not. I rarely interact with mortals, but my wife asked that I visit you. She is scared that she would be too tempted to interfere and get herself sealed. You are one of her favored children and what you are going through has erased her smile.”

Sari cautiously eyes the stranger. “Then
thank her for fixing my arm.”

“It was not her doing either,” he states with a worried frown. He runs a hand through his messy brown hair, sending sparking dandruff onto the floor. “Your injuries were repaired by the same monster that inflicted them. He is hurting you and healing you for some sick game that not even the gods can understand.”

The gypsy gets to her feet and eyes the man, noticing that there is a faint aura of power around him. She is about to speak when a new pain erupts in her mouth as if a spike has pierced her tongue. When she tries to close her mouth, the pain increases and she tastes blood. Reaching in with a few fingers, she feels that her tongue is stuck and its tip is twitching violently like a panicking worm.

“It seems your tormentor has driven a small stake into your tongue and closing your mouth drives it deeper,” the man sadly explains with a heavy sigh. He looks to the ceiling of darkness as if he can see what is happening to Sari’s body. “This man claims to be doing experiments, but he is merely torturing you for his own pleasure. People like that are horrible and should never be born, but I guess good requires evil in order to exist. I hope you can endure this until he gets bored and your friends rescue you.”

Sari frantically whips her hands through the air and creates an illusionary mouth on her forehead. It takes a deep breath before asking, “Who are you and why are you here?”

“I am Crisus, god of loss and determination. I am also the husband to your patron goddess,” he politely answers in his dull, monotone voice. “Cessia is very upset about this turn of events and she asked me to visit you.”

She suddenly feels the pain disappear and wipes away the magical mouth. “Where am I? Please tell me what is going on before something else happens.”

“Your former lover has sided with your enemie
s and handed you over to them. A man named Stephen is trying to uncover the secrets of your powers, but he is reveling in causing you pain. This is the deepest part of your mind where your sanity has retreated, so you are technically not real. You are merely the internal image of yourself, which is desperately trying to hold out until your body is rescued. The pain and injuries you are withstanding come from what this man is doing to you on the outside. I would not try to focus on them.”

Sari crosses her arms and stares defiantly at the god. Falling to her curiosity, she closes her eyes to focus on the condition of her body. The first thing she notices is a blue metal ring that appears on her left hand. Magical warmth spreads throughout her body, making her giddy and ticklish. Her giggling stops as soon as her clothes begin to tear to pieces. Within seconds, her boots are missing, her skirt is tattered, and her shirt is covered in blood. Sari holds back her scream of pain when wounds materialize around her body, their ragged edges slowly knitting back together as new wounds appear. A sudden jerk on the side of her head removes an ear, which causes her to shriek and fall to her knees.

“Crisus! Never tell a mortal not to focus on something!” a bellowing voice shouts from the shadows. “These foolish creatures always look when they should avert their eyes and focus when they should remain blissfully ignorant.”

Gabriel steps out of the ice and reaches Sari with a few mighty strides. His black hair glistens almost as much as his ebony armor. The god of destiny glares at Crisus before kneeling next to the gypsy. He hums a gentle tune that changes Sari back into her healthy form. With an angry growl, Gabriel gets to his feet and points a finger at his fellow god.

“I know Cessia sent you to check on the girl,” Gabriel says, barely holding back his anger. “She means well and so do you, but I do not want you to get involved. This situation is . . . ugly. I can barely stomach it myself. Yet, I assure you and your wife that it is necessary. I promise that this girl will come out of it in one piece.”

“Physically or ment
ally?” Crisus swiftly inquires.

“I would prefer both,” the stronger god admits, ignoring the scared yelp from Sari. “I know what Stephen is capable of and he could break her mind if given enough time. He will not get this time because her friends are already on the way. I have already sen
t a vision to my most trusted faithful. He is prepared to take this child to her power center where she will be mended in relative safety.”

“Tha-” Sari starts to say until a strong grip wraps around her throat. She gasps for air as phantom fingers
squeeze her windpipe.

“You are not a real being, child!” Gabriel bellows, erasing her pain with the sound of his voice. “
You are merely a mental projection wandering through your own mind. The pain you are going to endure will be intense, but you cannot truly die here.”

“Actually, dying her
e means she loses her sanity,” Crisus timidly interjects. “It is best not to lie to her or she might do something reckless.”

Gabriel lets his hand fall to the hilt of his sword, his temper boiling hot enough to turn his face red. Crisus slowly backs away with his head bowed in an act of respect, but he is sure the god of destiny is going to strike him. Both gods
stop when Sari shrieks again, her voice more powerful and blood-curdling than before. Crisus takes the opportunity to vanish and return to Ambervale causing Gabriel to curse about the lesser god’s cowardice.

Rolling his eyes, Gabriel turns around to see what form of torture the gypsy is
being subject to now. He freezes when he sees Sari standing with her arms out to him. The smell of burning flesh fills the air as words are branded into her skin. Her emerald eyes are pouring tears that create a glistening puddle on the floor.

“This child is my new toy, old friend,” Gabriel reads out loud. A cold smirk crosses his face as he turns away. “Enjoy this toy for as long as you have her. I will
take her back into my fold before tomorrow’s sunset.”

Gabriel vanishes in the blink of an eye, leaving Sari whimpering and staring at her scarred arms until the words fade away. With a shuddering breath, she staggers to her feet and looks around the room. Every noise and wisp of wind causes her to jump, expecting another surge of pain and blood. Minutes pass in silence and Sari
calms down, believing that Stephen has decided to leave her alone for the moment.

“You don’t think you’re going to get any rest, do you?” asks a female voice that causes Sari to jump in fright.

“Are you a goddess?” Sari asks, reaching for a dagger. She only feels the shredded remains of her skirt and her bare, bruised legs.

“It hurts that you forgot about me,” a redheaded woman says as she steps out from behind Sari. The young woman’s clothes are nothing more than soiled rags and she smells like she has not bathed in weeks. “Then again, we barely knew each other before you killed me.”

Sari stares at the young woman, her mind racing to put a name to the grinning, dirt-stained face. The woman flicks her hair to reveal two neat, puncture scars on her neck. It is not long before Sari recognizes the vampire bite and backs away from the woman. With a cruel grin, the redhead approaches Sari until she traps her against the icy wall. The woman takes a deep sniff of Sari’s azure hair and reaches out to gently stroke her cheek.

The gypsy locks eyes with the woman and is terrified to see glazed, dead pupils staring back at her.
“I didn’t mean to get you killed, Mira. It was an accident. I didn’t know the hellhound was out there or that it would eat you.”

“Yet, you still feel guilty,” Mira whispers into Sari’s ear before licking her cheek. “This is in your head, little gypsy. I’m here because you feel guilty and your mind is picking up where Stephen left off. You really wish to torture yourself and revel in your pain. Face all your juicy demons and push yourself to the breaking point.”

“I don’t want to do that!” Sari snaps, shoving Mira away with all her might. “I want the pain to stop and to be back with my friends. I want to be with Luke again. I want to tease Nyx again. I want-”

“You want, you want, you want!” Mira interrupts in a high-pitched mocking voice. “It’s always about what you want, Sari, and never about what will happen to the others. Well, it seems your mind is sick of your actions and it’s about to teach you a lesson.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it. I control my mind!”

Mira laughs and grabs Sari by the shoulders, slamming her against the wall with enough force to knock the wind from her lungs. “I’m truly sorry, Sari. You’re not in charge of us any
more.”

1

“Do you two realize that we’re trying to track our tracker in the dead of night?” Nyx calmly asks. She gingerly steps around a quivering toadstool as high as her waist. Keeping her eye on the suspicious mushroom, she moves her hands to direct the coin-sized orbs of light that are circling around her and her friends.

“We have Timoran on the ground and Fizzle in the air,” Delvin
replies with a friendly smile.

Th
e warrior adjusts his heavily dented buckler before stepping over a small creek. He is about to extend a hand to help Nyx when she leaps over the water. She slips on a slick stone and nearly falls headfirst into the dark liquid. Delvin swiftly catches the half-elf by the wrist and gently pulls balances her.

“Thanks,” she says, staring into his ice-blue eyes. Clearing her throat, Nyx slips out of Delvin’s grasp and jogs to where Timoran is sniffing the air. “Do we have any clue where Luke is?”

The barbarian sighs and looks down at the slender half-elf, whose eyes are begging him to give her good news. Timoran gestures for Delvin to come closer and waits for the warrior to join them. Running both of his hands through his red hair, Timoran gathers his thoughts and stares at the sky. The eerie noises of the Caster Swamp have put him on edge, but he has managed to work through that. Still, the occasional screech of a large predator has broken his focus more times than he would like to admit.

“Fizzle have no luck,” whispers a tiny voice. Timoran and Delvin jump with their weapons ready, but calm down when the purple-scaled drite lands on Nyx’s shoulder. “Sorry. No mean to scare.”

“I am afraid my luck has not been any better,” Timoran admits. He leans away from a magical light orb that drifts too close to his face. “Luke came into the Caster Swamp as a griffin, so we do not know where he started. He could have flown directly to the Lich’s castle for all we know. It was foolish for us to come in here without Selenia.”

“Selenia agreed that we had to move quickly,” Nyx desperately argues. Faint lines of fire run through her short black hair until
her friends each put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, but I don’t want to lose both of them. We need to find them.”

Timoran moves his hand to tussle the caster’s hair.
“We are trying, Nyx, but the swamp is against us. It swallows the trails, so only a forest tracker can find them. The predators have given us some problems too.”

“I thought we handled the giltris, orcs, were-rats, and snake fiends rather well,” Delvin chimes in with a chuckle.
The former mercenary coughs and scratches his chin, leaving a smear of dirt beneath his lower lip. “We did have some trouble with that hungry aursinoc. That thing had claws longer than my sword. I’d hate to run into that beast alone.”

Nyx chokes back a cry when the thought of Luke being eaten by a wild animal clicks in her mind. Her friends are about to move away, anticipating a blast of magic, when Fizzle nuzzles her cheek and snorts a small cloud of rainbow mist into her nose. The half-elf immediately calms down and grins happily at her friends. Without a care, she sits down at the base of a gnarled tree and makes the light orbs dance around her.

“Nyx is right,” Delvin whispers to Timoran. “I know I just joined your group, but I hope you respect my opinion. This swamp is too dangerous for a solitary warrior even though a forest tracker would have the best chance. I’ve sparred with Luke twice before and I know he’s very talented and resourceful. By Ram’s mane, he could have beaten me at the academy with that griffin form if he wanted to. The problem is that he isn’t thinking straight. We need to find him or this situation is going to get messy.”

“I cannot pick out his scent in this miasma,” Timoran responds, clutching his great axe out of frustration. “We could have passed him or gone in the opposite direction. Unless you can think of a way to bring him to us, we will not find him.
Selenia said you were a talented strategist and have become even better since you graduated.”

“I thought of a way a few hours ago, but was waiting for us to reach a point where we gave up tracking,” Delvin admits. He yawns and glances at Nyx, who is
idly playing with the light orbs. “Our enemies already know we’re in the swamp, so we should stop acting like we have the element of surprise. This isn’t an adventure, Timoran. This is going to be a full scale battle and we should treat it as such.”

“This could be a very bad idea.”

“Oh, it’s a terrible idea,” the brown-haired warrior laughs with a friendly slap to the barbarian’s shoulder. “Hopefully, Ram and Cessia are on our side.”

Delvin cautiously approaches Nyx and kneels in front of her. She turns away as she blushes and the effect of Fizzle’s mist fades away.
He continues to stare at her, making her feel uncomfortable and irritated.

After a few minutes of silence, Nyx hisses, “Spit it out, Delvin.”

“I need you to launch a fireball into the sky. It should act like a flare and bring Luke’s attention to us,” he responds in a calm, serious voice. “We’re going to stay here and wait for him to come to us.”

“And if something else s
hows up?”

The
warrior meets her doubtful smirk with a charming smile. “I stab, Timoran chops, and you blast it to Ambervale. Not quite sure what Fizzle will do.”

“So muc
h for being a strategist.”

Wiping moss off the back of her pants, Nyx watches the sky for a last second sign of a griffin. All she sees is something with bat wings that quickly vanishes back into the shadows of the swamp. The caster holds up her hands and aims for the yellow moon as the light orbs gather in her palms. They shift from white to a fiery red before igniting and merging into two dense fireballs. Nyx launches one of the fireballs into the sky, the projectile unleashing a screech that startles a flock of sleeping birds. The fireball hovers high above the swamp as she takes careful aim with the second spell. Letting out a slow breath, she fires at the first orb and the spells explode with ferocious force. Every sleeping bird within ten miles launches into the sky, filling the air with the screaming of terrified beasts.

“For the sake of the gods, I didn’t want you to blow up the damn sky!” Delvin shouts, his calm shell shattered by the noise. “You’re going to bring every predator in the swamp down on our heads!”

“You didn’t tell me to hold back!” Nyx
yells.

“Stop shouting or you will make it easier for the beasts to find us,” Timoran
says through gritted teeth. He can already hear something large charging toward them from the north. “We are about to have company.”

Two trees to Nyx’s left are sent flying as a rampaging monster attacks, its six arms flailing wildly. The creature heads for Timoran and unleashes a roar from its elastic mouth. It is nearly within reach of the barbarian when Delvin steps in. Letting the creature do most of the work, he easily drives his longsword through the monster’s chest. The beast screams and beats on
Delvin’s wooden buckler and chainmail with its clawed fists. With a flick of his wrist, the warrior twists the sword and slices through the beast’s heart. He cringes as the sticky, white skin makes it difficult to draw his blade from the falling corpse.

“I hate the creatures here,” Delvin gasps with a shudder. “I don’t even know what this thing is called.”

The night lights up as Nyx hurls several spells into the air. Delvin and Timoran look up to see a swarm of giant hornets with scorpion-like pincers and barbed, leather wings. Lightning and fire race into the swarm, cutting the insects down in groups. Every time the creatures turn toward her friends, Nyx unleashes a blast of light that brings their attention back to her. A barrage of stingers launch at her and melt as soon as they hit her heat shield, but one of them gets through and scratches the side of her neck.

Delvin moves to help her when a six-legged reptile bursts from the ground behind him and engulfs him in its toothless mouth. The warrior battles in the foul-smelling darkness, his sword slashing madly in every direction. With the texture of sandpaper, the creature’s tongue slaps at Delvin and leaves his face covered in drool and scratches. He is starting to feel light-headed when the reptile screeches and releases him before toppling over.

“I am sorry, but I could not wait for you to finish,” Timoran apologizes, his great axe still embedded in the reptile’s throat.

“I’m always happy for some help
. Feel free to fight my battles for me,” Delvin states in a low raspy voice.

“They just keep coming!” Nyx screams in anger. With an amplified magical roar, she hurls a wave of fire into the air and destroys most of the swarm. The remaining insects quickly retreat back to their distant hive, many of them getting picked off by large birds that swoop out of the darker parts of the sky.

“That could have been worse,” Timoran states. He hefts his axe onto his shoulder and strains his senses to pick up any new noises. “I believe Nyx’s roar scared away the other beasts before they got too close. It was a roar worthy of a barbarian, fire sprite.”

Cringing at the mild pain, Nyx yanks a few charred stingers out of her arms and legs.
“Fire sprite?”

“You are small, throw fire, and show very little fear in the face of larger opponents like the fire sprites of my homeland
. I will call you something else if it upsets you,” the barbarian replies. His warm grin disappears when he smells rancid meat on the stale wind. “The worst is on its way. I believe your plan has caused us too many problems, Delvin.”

“Live and learn,” Delvin calmly declares
, squinting at the vague forms in the distant trees. “They’re coming at us from all sides, so go back to back to back. Not too close or we’ll hit each other”

The three adventurers move into a close group as the smell of decay gets closer. Ult bathes the area in amber light as the first creature
comes into view. With its feet a few inches off the ground, the bloated corpse weaves and drifts closer. It’s naked beyond patches of moss and twigs that are sticking out of its gray skin. Long arms drag behind it, unable to touch the ground as if the earth repels them. Bulbous white eyes blindly scan the area while large ears catch every noise, including the stuttering heartbeats of its prey. More of the creatures drift into view around them and start to hum a droning tone as they near.

“At least they’re slow,” Nyx whispers. She holds back a yelp of fright when all of the creatures turn toward her. They seem to blink out of existence and reappear a few yards ahead of where she last saw them.

“Revenants. I would rather deal with zombies,” Timoran growls, his breathing becoming heavy from the battle rage growing in his gut.

“I’ve fought them several times
. The only difference between them and zombies is that they float,” Delvin says, cautiously watching the circling undead. He feels a wave of heat on his back and glances at Nyx, who is covered in flames. “It looks like they’re nervous about our little fire sprite.”

“That is a plus, but we cannot
counter their paralysis poison,” Timoran insists. He moves closer to Delvin to put some distance between himself and Nyx. “One touch and we will be helpless.”

“I’ve been hit by them several times. They don’t have paralysis poi
son,” Delvin argues with a confident grin. “Their hits sting like getting hit in the face with a barbed whip, but there’s no poison.”

The revenants unleash a bone-chilling howl before they
repeatedly disappear and reappear around their prey. Most of them gather closer to Timoran and Delvin when Nyx hurls explosive blades of fire in every direction. Many of her attacks pass harmlessly through a revenant as it vanishes, leaving a smoking hole in the ground. Long arms race out to grab her, but they are immediately yanked back when her protective fire changes to a searing white. She is forced to drop the fire back to a lower temperature when she is practically blinded by her own magic. The moment the flames turn red, the revenants surge toward her in an attempt to devour the biggest threat.

A loud crack echoes through the air as Delvin caves in a revenant’s skull with his buckler. Decaying fists beat on his shield and armor as he chops arms and legs off the floating monsters. One of the revenants strikes him on the side of the head and appears next to him, thick drool dripping from its mouth. Delvin cleaves it in two, his longsword passing through the flesh and bone like they are made of air. Gradually, the revenants move to surround the warrior, who repeatedly blocks and parries most of their attacks. Whenever a revenant manages to hit Delvin, it appears near him and is immediately killed. They disperse when Nyx restarts her barrage of fire spells and an occasional spray of dissolving mist if a revenant is within range.

Timoran lets his rage take over and barrels into revenants, his muscles immediately feeling weaker and numb. His rage is strong enough to resist the worst of the paralysis poison as he slashes and hacks at the humming monsters. A revenant manages to wrap its arms around the barbarian’s arm, its slavering mouth opening for a bite. With a mighty roar, Timoran whips his arms to decapitate four revenants and slams the one holding him into the ground. The moment the creature touches the earth, it erupts in blue sparks and falls to pieces. Feeling weak, Timoran falls back to his friends, slashing at the air in front of him to keep the revenants at bay. One of them is about to grab him from behind when a long, scaly tail stabs through its head.