The Mists of Sorrow: The Morcyth Saga Book Seven (15 page)

“Yes sir,” Reilin replies. Kicking his horse
into a gallop, he moves to intercept the rider.

The rest of them continue along their
original course while they keep an eye on Reilin and the other
rider. By the time Reilin reaches the rider and they stop, the
rider has come to within a hundred feet of the rest of them.

Before Reilin has a chance to say anything,
the rider begins talking quickly. What’s being said is lost to the
others but the rider is obviously agitated about something. Finally
quieting down, the rider listens to Reilin for a moment before once
again launching into another animated speech.

When it doesn’t look as if Reilin is getting
rid of the man, James says, “Jiron, go see what’s taking so
long.”

“Right.” Nudging his horse in the sides, he
makes his way over and joins them. Reilin turns at his approach and
the other rider grows silent again as Reilin talks to Jiron. Jiron
asks a question and waits for the translation and then again for
the rider’s answer.

By this time James has brought the others to
a stop. Surprised it has taken this long, he pulls out a strip of
dried beef and chews on it absentmindedly while he waits. He
doesn’t have to wait long before Jiron leaves Reilin and the rider
where they are and returns to the group.

“What’s going on?” James asks as he nears.
The look on Jiron’s face says it’s anything but something
simple.

“The man’s name is Zyrn,” he begins. “He’s a
leader of a nearby village. He wanted to warn us not to go
west.”

“Why?” asks Potbelly.

“I didn’t get the whole tale, but the gist
of it is that it’s death for anyone to go there,” he explains.
“Also, he says there was a big battle there not too long ago.”

“A battle?” asks Miko. “As in the battle we
barely survived?”

“I think so,” he replies with a nod.

They all remember the mammoth explosion and
then the fire that coated the outside of the barrier for a time.
“What is it that’s killing them?” James asks. Visions of radiation
fallout run through his mind.

“Now this is where it gets kind of strange,”
admits Jiron. “In fact, if it wasn’t for all I’ve seen and been
through since I first met you, I would discount it as the man has
lost his mind.” He glances around at the others a moment before
continuing. “He says the sand is killing them. That the sand is
turning into a shimmering carpet of gray and whatever it touches,
dies. He says it’s growing.”

Everyone but James and Miko, who had been
unconscious at the time, remember the gray sand they traveled
through when they left the battlefield. Which only lends credence
to what the man is saying.

James has never heard of anything like this.
Though he wasn’t conscious when the bubble exploded at the end of
the battle, he’s heard plenty of accounts from various people as to
its effect. Could he have caused this? In a world with magic, gods
and other planes of existence, it’s possible.

Nodding over to where Zyrn waits with
Reilin, Jiron asks, “What should I tell him?”

Sighing, James knows what he’s going to have
to do. If nothing else at least go and see for himself what this
man is talking about. “Go and ask him if he’ll take us there,” he
says.

Turning his horse back toward where the man
waits, Jiron hurries back over to him. As soon as he reaches the
man and tells him what James said, Zyrn begins shaking his head.
Then he kicks his horse and rides toward James and the others with
Reilin and Jiron right behind.

“No, no, no!” he cries out. “You must not go
there!” He waits for Reilin to come and translate. “It is a cursed
place. Too dangerous!”

James waits for the translation then says,
“Regardless, we are going to see this thing for ourselves.” The
pain on Zyrn’s face is evident when Reilin translates for him.
“Where can we find it?”

“Hey, aren’t those Parvati swords?” Scar
suddenly asks, indicating the handles of the swords sticking out of
the bundle behind Zyrn’s saddle.

“Yes,” replies Zyrn. “After the battle I and
many from my village came and scavenged what we could.” He can see
their disapproval stares directed at him and adds, “Our lives are
hard. This is the only way we can survive.” Lowering his eyes, he
says, “Of course, there may soon be nothing left anyway.”

“We’ll see about that,” James states. “Now,
will you lead us there?”

Realizing they plan to go despite his
warning, he nods his head. “Yes,” he says, “I will show you. But be
warned, it has already claimed the lives of many.” Turning his
horse in the direction of the grayness, he leads them toward
it.

James rides directly behind Zyrn with Jiron
and Brother Willim. “Do you think we caused this?” Brother Willim
asks.

Shrugging, James replies, “I don’t know.
We’ll know more when we get there.” He raises his voice and asks
Zyrn, “How far is it?”

Reilin, who is riding next to Zyrn,
translates then replies “A little over an hour.”

James rides in silence, mulling over what
Zyrn has told them.

When the shimmering grayness appears on the
horizon, Zyrn stops. “There it is,” he says. As James begins to
continue forward, he stops him. “Do not approach too closely, it
sometimes advances rapidly.”

“Thanks,” replies James, “I’ll remember
that.” Moving forward with Zyrn and Reilin beside him he’s awed by
the sheer size of the thing. It’s immense! He notices the rings of
swords standing upright far within the gray mass. Pointing to them,
he asks Zyrn, “Marking the edge to see how fast it was
expanding?”

Surprised that he would have realized that
Zyrn says, “Yes. It’s been growing about six feet a day.” He points
to where two rows have a large gap in one area. “Though it isn’t
consistent, some areas grow faster than others.”

Nodding, James assimilates that as he
continues riding toward it. A hundred yards from the fringe, he
brings them to a stop. Dismounting, he says to the others, “You
stay here. I’m going to get a closer look.”

When Zyrn hears that he rushes to James’
side and says, “You cannot!” Taking hold of James by the arms he
stares into his eyes, “This is nothing to trifle with.”

Jiron comes and disengages Zyrn from James.
“Don’t worry,” he tells him, “we can take care of ourselves.” With
James go Brother Willim and Jiron. Zyrn tries to go with them too
but Scar and Potbelly stop him.

“What do you make of it?” asks Jiron.

“I don’t know,” he replies. “Kind of reminds
me of the Blob.”

“The Blob?” Brother Willim asks.

“Sorry, it’s a story from my world about a
gelatinous ooze that eats everything it comes into contact with,”
he explains. “Of course the thing I never understood about it was,
if its touch would dissolve metal, what kept it from just sinking
into the ground?” He gives them a grin when he sees the lost looks
on their faces. “But that wouldn’t make for a good story now would
it?”

“Uh, I guess not,” agrees Brother Willim
though not quite understanding what James is talking about.

Out within the shimmering gray there are
several distinct lumps, though what they once were is no longer
discernable. “Must be the people he said the grayness has already
claimed,” he guesses.

“Must be,” agrees Brother Willim.

“Nobody do anything until I tell you to,”
James tells them. They continue to advance until ten feet from the
edge. Coming to a stop, James stares at the edge for a moment and
can see it gradually advancing toward them. “It’s still growing,”
he says.

Picking up a handful of sand, he throws it
onto the shimmering mass. When the sand particles fall and hit the
surface, nothing happens other than they gradually turn gray. To
Jiron he says, “See if you can find me an insect or something. Make
sure it’s alive.”

A minute later Jiron returns with a large
beetle. Tossing it into the grayness, he watches as it hits the
surface. It jerks twice then becomes still as it gradually turns
gray just as the sand had. “Interesting,” he says.

“What are you doing?” asks Brother
Willim.

“Just being systematical,” he explains.
Next, he closes his eyes and summons the magic to try to get a
better look.

Zyrn watches as the three men move toward
the edge of the grayness. Held by two of them, he watches
helplessly as the three men move closer. First the sand, then the
beetle, the one man tests it to see what it will do. Then, he sees
the ripple form across its surface, the same as had appeared when
the priest summoned his magic.

“Get them out of there!” he cries out.
Pulling against the grip of Scar and Potbelly, he yells, “It’s
going to kill them!”

“Settle down!” Scar tells him.

Pointing to the ripples coursing toward the
edge where James and the others stand, he yells “Look!”

That’s when Miko finally takes note of what
it is he’s talking about. “James!” he cries out as he rushes
forward.

As his senses move outward, he can
feel…something. It’s nothing like he’s ever encountered before.
Then, he hears a commotion from where the others are waiting.
Keeping the power going, he glances back over to them. He sees a
struggling Zyrn held between Scar and Potbelly. “Wonder what that’s
about?” he asks, turning his attention to Jiron.

Shrugging, Jiron says, “Who knows?”

Then, he hears Miko yell, “James!” Glancing
once again back to them, he sees Miko racing toward him and
pointing wildly to the grayness. Looking back just as the grayness
surges toward him, he reacts with reflexes honed over a year of
magical fighting. Without thought, a barrier springs into being
surrounding him, Jiron and Brother Willim.

“Asran’s Branch!” cries out Brother Willim
as the grayness washes over the barrier and covers it
completely.

“It’s coming in underneath!” exclaims
Jiron.

Looking to the bottom edge of the barrier,
James sees the ground beginning to turn gray. Adding a bottom
section to the barrier, he soon has them completely encased within
it.

“What’s going on?” asks Jiron. Gazing in
apprehension at the gray, shimmering mass covering the barrier he
stands there as a shiver runs through him.

“It’s trying to get in,” replies James.

“Can you hold it?” Jiron asks.

“Oh yes,” he replies. “As odd as it may
sound, it’s hardly causing me any problems. It’s almost as if it
isn’t even there.”

“How are we to get out of this?” Brother
Willim asks. A green glow has sprung up around him after the
onslaught of the grayness.

“Not sure to tell you the truth,” admits
James. Staring at the solid mass of gray coating the barrier, he
wonders just how they will get out of this.

When the gray mass surged over James, Jiron
and Brother Willim, Miko came to a screeching halt and abruptly
turned around and raced back to the others. The ‘tide’ of gray
enveloped the barrier and continued on for another twenty feet
before coming to a stop. Then, it began moving backward to the
barrier. Ripples continue to form as more of the grayness seems to
move toward where James and the others are trapped.

Aleya shoots an arrow at it but it simply
embeds itself in the ground and has no effect on the grayness.

“Is one of them a mage of some sort?” asks
Zyrn.

After Reilin translates Stig says,
“Yes.”

“Thought so,” nods Zyrn. “It reacted the
same way when a priest came to try to deal with it.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Shorty yells.

“How was I to know one of you was a mage?”
Zyrn replies defensively.

“So how do we get them out?” asks Aleya,
fear for Jiron in her eyes.

“I have no idea my dear,” replies Zyrn. “I
would have thought they’d be dead by now.” Indeed, the gray covered
barrier surprises him. Whoever is within there must be a mage of
some power.

“Do you feel that?” asks Brother Willim.

“What?” questions James.

“It feels like sap running through a tree,”
he replies.

James sends his senses out again and after
several minutes begins to understand what the brother is talking
about. Small traces of energy are surging through the grayness
covering the barrier.

“What do you make of it?” Brother Willim
asks him.

He concentrates on the surges for another
minute before turning to Brother Willim and Jiron. “It isn’t
magic,” he says. “If it were, I would feel it.” When he first saw
the shimmering grayness, he thought that at first it might be a
magical construct of some kind. But the familiar tingling that
always comes with the workings of magic had been absent. “I think
what you are feeling are electrical pulses,” he explains. “Not
entirely sure about that but that’s what comes to mind.”

“Electrical?” asks Jiron.

“Yeah,” nods James. “Like lightning but on a
much smaller scale.”

Jiron glances to Brother Willim for
confirmation but he just shrugs.

Closing his eyes again, James once more
sends forth his senses to try to figure this thing out.

The grayness outside the barrier is constant
and unchanging. Like a carpet of somewhat transparent gray, it
diffuses the light coming through. Jiron gazes at it and a shiver
runs through him again.

“The pulses of electricity seem to be
originating from one place,” James suddenly says, breaking the
silence.

“So?” asks Jiron.

“So…” begins James, “that might be where the
source of this is coming from.”

“How far away is it?” Brother Willim
asks.

“It’s not close,” he replies. Opening his
eyes, he turns to them and says, “Can’t be sure how far it is.
Maybe a mile.” He stands there and thinks for a moment, gazing at
the bubble surrounding them and the grayness covering it. “Somehow
we are going to have to reach the source of the electrical
pulses.”

“How are we to do that?” Jiron asks.
“Shouldn’t we first worry about how we are going to get out of
here?”