The Realms of Animar (24 page)

“Hold up there,” Clotch requested. “I need just a minute.” He then double over and rested his arms on his knees, conceding in his failed attempt to travel unaided.

Mordigal wiped a light dusting of powder from his cloak and then yelled back. “Alright take a break. I’m going to take a look up ahead.”

Pushing through the snow he climbed a small hill and joined Caballus on the ridge. As he ascended, the path ahead came into view. To the west, the gap between the mountains narrowed considerably and led them down the hill into what looked to be ravine, likely carved by a dried up river whose bed lie buried beneath a coat of ice. Flanked by rock sides that climbed to a jagged cliff nearly a hundred feet above on each side, the gap stretched far into the distance where it bent out of sight to the north.

They were off track and it shook them both.

“Definitely not the way we came,” Caballus said, his deep voice accompanied by a look of concern.

“We must have gotten off track in the blizzard earlier.” Mordigal glanced into the thick grey clouds that hid any trace of the sun while tiny flakes tickled his face. “Hard to tell but we should still be going west. At least the snow is letting up a bit.”

Caballus stared into the woody cliffs as if looking through them and into the very depths of the land itself. His alarm was obvious. “We can stick to the high ground or follow the ravine.” He then peered back at the brothers who had stopped to rest. “I don’t like the thought of being cornered, but I am not sure they can make it if we get caught in another storm in the open.”

“That ravine could take us anywhere,” Mordigal replied. “It could lead us back the way we came even.” He hated feeling trapped. If they followed the ravine their path was dedicated.

“Very true,” Caballus said before he shifted his attention to the other travelers in their group. Worry is a universal expression, shared by all, and it clung to his face with obvious certainty. “Either way, you know they will have to go on without us after we clear the mountains.”

“They knew we would have to separate at some point. If we can just get them to the other side of the range that would increase their chances considerably.”

“Do you know if they have any family back in Avryndale?”

“I don’t think so. Trussil told me they came with a caravan that arrived three years ago. A curious sort for sure.” Mordigal looked back at the brothers. Two were seated wrestling on a log apparently trying to stuff snow in the other’s hair, the third was not immediately visible. Tired and lost, they remained innocent and untainted by the horrors of their world, perhaps not realizing the peril that lie before them. His eyes fell back on Caballus but as he thought about the brothers going on without them, his words were silenced by concern.

As quickly as he had looked away, Mordigal’s attention shifted when a yell interrupted their conversation. Glancing back, he spotted one of the brothers emerging from behind a tree, apparently after having briefly ventured into the woods. The round-faced man was waving one hand frantically while he struggled desperately to hold his trousers up with the other. Awkward as he appeared, his clumsy movements were a feeble attempt to shield his otherwise exposed rear from view.

Quick of foot even in the thick snow, Caballus and Mordigal sprinted back to join their fellow travelers, anxious to hear the cause for alarm.

“Come on Clotch, we don’t want to see any part of that,” one brother called to the partially disrobed one, leading to an eruption of laughter from the others.

Clotch came to a halt in front of the group just as Mordigal and Caballus joined them. He was out of breath and shaken.

“What is it?” Caballus asked, cutting through the merri-
ment.

Clotch gasped for air while he fastened his belt yet any relief caused by this action was quickly dispelled when he managed to spit out one startling word, “Tracks!”

This word, spoken by an unassuming individual short of stature and lacking any intimidating traits, hung in the air as if a fierce demon had appeared before them and uttered it with a fiery breath. The boisterous brothers were silenced immediately.

Mordigal rushed to his side and grasped Clotch by the arm. “Where?” he demanded. “In the woods?”

Panting, the shaken man nodded and pointed into the woods, “Yes…lots of them. About thirty feet in or so.”

Immediately the three brothers withdrew previously sheathed short swords in unison and did their best to look ready for battle although their shaking blades gave a more accurate account of their confidence.

“Alright I’m going to check it out,” Mordigal said. He then turned to Caballus who was busy scouring the woods with his eyes for any sign of trouble. “If I am jumped I will run them up the cliff away from here. Take these three into the ravine if you have to.”

Mordigal then withdrew a pair of wooden daggers from his waist, took one look into the woods and then shifted his form to that of a wolf. Startled, the brothers stumbled back a step.

“Woah!” one of them said.

“Um…good wolfie, good, good…friend…not food,” added another.

As if amused by the attempt at humor, the wolf turned toward the source of the comment and gazed with pale blues eyes that looked to be formed from the very ice upon which they walked. The creature looked around while it sniffed the air and panted through an open jaw that spilled forth a purplish tongue over jagged teeth. Then, with a grunt, the wolf bolted into the woods, kicking back tiny chunks of snow as it departed.

“Glad he is on our side,” one of the brothers said.

Equipped with animal quickness and grace, Mordigal ran through the trees as easily as if crossing an open field. Thick snow clung to his paws yet the creature continued, guided by invisible messages delivered in the form of lingering scents in the air that assaulted his mind at an astounding rate.

His body was warm now, covered in a thick coat that was fed by a quickly pounding heart. Sounds trickled into his ears from all sides mostly fueled by an arctic wind that whipped through the trees, tossing leaves to the ground. The wolf kept his eyes low and focused as his head swung from side to side searching, ever searching.

He smelled something briefly and then it was gone. Several things. Gone now. Deeper he ran, past a fallen pine. There….no, something else. A strong odor to his right at the base of a tree. He stopped a second, sniffed it. One of the little men had been there. Marked it. Then he saw the tracks. Lots and lots in the snow. He lowered his nose to them. Still strong and fresh. Clawed toes. Danger. He crept down and slowly followed the tracks but it was hard, they were spread out. A pack perhaps. He looked in the distance, nothing up ahead. He knew better though. They weren’t far. He needed to go back. Hurry.

Minutes after he had departed, Mordigal emerged from the woods and shifted back to his human form. While he caught his breath he looked into the four sets of eyes that stared at him eagerly anticipating his report.

“Dogs most likely,” he said. “Maybe a bobcat or two mixed in. I spotted ten in all. They look to be heading up the cliff in the direction we were going. They can’t be far off. I would guess an hour or two at most. The trouble is-“

“They’re sticking to the trees,” Caballus said bluntly.

Mordigal nodded. “Exactly. They either knew we were coming or they knew something else was coming. Maybe bigger.”

Blotch pointed to Caballus and said, “Bigger? What could be bigger than that fellow?”

Not amused, Mordigal replied grimly, “The weather has been bad but the mountains are passable. We might just run right into the army heading for Avryndale if we take the ravine.”

The men looked at one another, silenced by a painful thought that all knew to be true. Even if their journey proved successful and they all returned with help, there remained a possibility that Avryndale, along with everyone they struggled to save, would already be gone.

Caballus grabbed their attention. “No going back now. It sounds like we have no choice. The ravine it is. Let’s get moving.”

Chapter 26

T
hrough winding tunnels of remarkable craftsmanship, surrounded by the dark ocean depths that harbored life beyond his comprehension, Guderian was led by Tursia to the chamber in which he had awoken. Apparently secure in his intentions, no guards had accompanied them on their walk yet the two had remained speechless, their tongues captivated by the events that had just occurred.

Guderian’s thoughts were mixed with both shock and excitement. Having realized the fate of his twin sister and the existence of a young niece he longed to meet he felt strangely renewed. He wanted to see Joli so bad that his heart ached.

“I am forever grateful,” Guderian said to Tursia. He then recalled how Arodon had admonished her before the crowd and added, “I’m sorry I put you in a difficult situation.”

She held up a webbed hand to silence his concerns. “We have rules and I chose to disobey them. I was well aware of the consequences.”

“Please thank Arodon for me.”

A hint of a smile appeared on her face and she replied, “Actually, you will get that chance yourself.”

Approaching footsteps echoed in their ears. Tursia took a step closer and lowered her voice to a whisper.

“I wish we had more time,” she said as she glanced to the tunnel leading from the room. She then looked back at Guderian. Her eyes lingered a bit longer on his as if she was conflicted.

Guderian began to speak but Tursia abruptly turned and walked away at a hastened pace, her toeless feet slapping the floor as she moved. He watched as she lowered her head in humility when she passed five figures that had emerged from the tunnel in front of her. The group was led by Arodon who, most notably, carried with him two swords, one in each hand. Being a man rich in knowledge of weaponry, Guderian noticed immediately that the jagged blades were made of an unusual light-colored substance that he could not identify.

The Realmlord was followed by two brutish blue-skinned guards and a pair of tall, black-skinned figures, with flattened, featureless heads and tiny yellow eyes that made Guderian shiver. Although frightening in appearance there was something familiar about them but nonetheless Guderian grew nervous when they approached.

“Relax outsider, you have nothing to fear,” Arodon said. “These men will get you back to the shore. If you survive the ascent tell them how to find your village. We will honor our word and send whatever help we can soon.” Arodon glanced away for a moment and then continued, “There is, however, something you must do for us in return.”

“Of course Arodon, I am in your debt.”

“I have a need for people of your kind, help with a task on land. If you survive this…war…you must promise to help my people in return.”

“Anything,” Guderian replied. “Just tell me what needs to be done. You have my word.”

“One of my men will explain when you get to shore.”

Guderian nodded and then glanced down at the swords in Arodon’s hands.

The Realmlord then raised the blades for Guderian to inspect. “Interesting, don’t you think?”

“Quite,” Guderian said. “What material is that? Rock?”

“Actually no but they look like they might be. Hold one.” Arodon handed one of the swords to Guderian.

As he accepted the weapon, Guderian backed up a step and turned his hand over, whipping the curiously light blade through the air skillfully.

“We call it coral,” Arodon explained. “A material that comes from the skeletons of some of our kind. It’s strong and can be formed and sharpened to create a devastating edge.”

The significance of the material then shook Guderian. “No metal?”

“Yes, they can be taken between forms. They were made for the Realmlord Dolias many years ago and passed down by my forefathers. The blade, the hilt and the guard are entirely shaped from coral. Not as hard as rock or metal but much lighter and easier to work. In the hands of the right person they can be truly deadly.”

Guderian staggered when he considered the utility of the weapons. They were a powerful counter to the rule that was shared by all life on Animar and that determined the manner in which combat occurred. They would make an incredible asset.

“They are certainly exquisite,” Guderian said. “We have nothing like this material on land.”

“Take them,” Arodon said as he offered the other sword to Guderian. “They are a gift to you. May they protect your people as they have ours.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Guderian said, shaking his head. “Thank you Arodon, for everything.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Arodon replied. “There is much to be done.” The Aquan turned to walk away and added, “Travel safe.”

A blur then caught Guderian’s eye, a quick movement from one of the black shadowy figures that stood among them. He felt a sting in his neck just before the room fell to darkness. His time in the world of the Aquans had come to an end.

Chapter 27

A
lthough the snowfall had stopped, night had fallen upon the group bringing with it a sense of dread that threatened to snatch their lives at any moment. Traveling without torchlight for several hours, their world had been cast into utter darkness guided only by the faintest of moonlight when it somehow managed to break through the thick cloud-filled skies above.

In hopes of avoiding the creatures that had made the footprints in the snow earlier that day they had elected to follow the cliff-lined ravine. Using one wall as a guide, they had traveled roughly west, taking several bends along the way, not entirely sure in what direction their now dedicated path would lead.

The ground that they ventured on was topped with ice and powder although fortunately not as deep as had been encountered previously, likely shielded from the heaviest snowfall by the towering cliffs. The ravine itself had varied in width and at times the opposite wall had been hidden by the unsettling gloom although it currently fell just within sight - a giant gray wall covered in shadows touched in places by tiny fingers of light.

The five companions were huddled along the wall, an unusual collection to be sure, and they shared in the fact that they were all shivering, cold and tired. Their eyes were focused on a yet unlit fire that had been recently erected. The collection of branches and twigs beckoned them like a temptress, seductively offering a respite from the elements that came with a rather frightening price.