The Shards (25 page)

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Authors: Gary Alan Wassner

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Horror, #Dark Fantasy, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Sword & Sorcery

BOOK: The Shards
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They continued to walk upon the path as it veered left and right, while all the time they were aware that they were descending with each step. Time passed as they moved deeper and deeper into the mountain, and still they saw no indication that the beast was near. Cautiously they kept to the path, and the minutes turned into hours.

“We have left the others far behind,” Maringar observed after a while. “And still no signs.”

Just then, a gust of humid air wafted through the tunnel directly into their faces.

“I spoke too soon,” the dwarf said, and his senses were immediately on alert.

“Be on your guard. We must be prepared to withdraw before we are embroiled in a battle prematurely. We want him to follow us. It would serve no purpose if we were forced into a battle this deep in the mountain,” Beolan said, though he knew they were of like minds already.

“Extinguish the light then,” Maringar suggested. “We can be lures without being targets.”

Beolan heeded his comrades advice, and in an instant they were enveloped by total darkness.

“Stay close to me. We do not wish to lose each other now,” Beolan said.

The air was growing hotter and damper with each new step that they took. Furthermore, the odor that had turned the elf’s stomach the last time he was here was beginning to reach their nostrils once more.

“This is wretched,” Maringar whispered, and he covered his mouth and nose with a gloved hand.

“It will get worse,” Beolan warned.

Maringar took another step and his heavy boot slid out to the right almost causing him to topple over. The surface had become so slippery that he had trouble righting himself. He reached out to the wall for support and he quickly discovered that it too was dripping with slime. He withdrew his hand and found it covered with a sticky substance that made it difficult for him to even separate his fingers from one another. After wiping it on the rough leather of his jerkin, he was finally able to clean it. The elf’s soft boots offered him better traction than the studded soles of the dwarfs own.

“Be careful not to get any of this on your face or in your eyes,” he warned in a hushed voice.

“What is this stuff? Slippery and sticky at the same time!” Maringar observed.

“The residue of evil, I fear,” Beolan scowled. “The beast cannot be far behind.”

“Did you feel that?” Maringar asked suddenly.

“Yes,” Beolan replied as the vibration abated. “A tremor, perhaps.”

“Like no other I have ever felt then,” Maringar said.

Another shudder rippled through the rock underfoot and both of the men stood totally still until it passed.

“That was stronger than the last one. And this putrid smell is stronger too. Be on your guard!” Beolan warned.

A sound like a bellows makes when one is feeding a fire with air could be heard in the passageway. It wheezed and gasped over and over again and grew louder with each intake and expulsion. Maringar shifted his dagger into the hand that still stung from whatever had coated it a moment before, and then he wiped his eyes with his clean one. They burned and teared.

“It comes,” Beolan said. “Get ready!”

The walls and surfaces seemed to expand and contract with each pulsating vibration. The stone itself appeared as if it was breathing in and out. A viscous fluid coated all the surfaces and made it extremely treacherous and difficult to maintain a footing upon. And the odor! It was almost unbearable. Sounds coursed through the stone; horrible sounds as if the rock itself was crying out in anguish. Like lightning streaking across a darkened sky, the Armadiel infiltrated the stone surrounding them, and it spread its nightmarish essence throughout the heart and soul of the mountain.

Maringar stood close to his friend as they both prepared to run back up the path toward the assembled warriors. They knew that they could not wait too long once the beast began its pursuit, but they needed to induce it to follow them, and if it did not get a taste of its prey, it might just decide to sit back upon its heels and wait for them to return again. They did not want to have to repeat this excursion, so they waited and waited until the heat became so strong and the conditions became so appalling and horrific that they could not stand it any longer.

“We must go!” Beolan said urgently. “Now!” he insisted, but Maringar did not respond.

He could feel his presence beside him, but the dwarf did not move.

“Maringar? It is time!” he said. “We cannot risk another moment!” he cautioned.

Beolan felt the ground shift beneath his feet in nauseating waves that caused him to reach out his arms in order to stabilize himself. As he came into contact with Maringar’s skin, he retracted his hand in horror. The dwarf was burning up and he could feel that his body was coated in the same slime that oozed from Silandre’s stone. Beolan knew immediately what was happening, and he quickly rekindled the small orb of light, only this time he focused his efforts upon it more intensely. It burned blue and steady. He pulled it from around his neck, breathing the cords as he did so, and then he thrust it against his friend’s body. The blue light flared brightly and began to expand out of the small casing that housed it, and it adhered instantly to Maringar and began to spread over his entire body. Wherever it came into contact with the slithery coating, the thick liquid immediately fell away in heavy droplets. One force fought the other, but alas, this time the light was not to be the victor. No sooner did a drop fall to the stone floor when another, heavier wave washed over him and threatened to douse the light completely. Extinguished and defeated, the casing fell noiselessly to the ground.

Maringar looked at him with eyes wide and full of terror. He attempted to speak though he was clearly in agony by this time. His body pulsated and his features were distorted from the battle that now raged within him. The expression upon his face was so painful to witness that Beolan could barely stand it.

“Go!” Maringar finally managed to say in a tormented gasp. “Leave me! We cannot both be lost so soon!”

“I will carry you if I must! It shall not be the victor before the battle has begun!” he shouted, and he reached out his hand to grasp his friend.

A waft of rancid air struck him in the face like a slap from Sedahar itself, and what emanated from Maringar’s mouth next was the most chilling sound Beolan had ever heard in his life.

“He is mine!” the beast hissed through the dwarfs contorted lips in the most heinous and bloodcurdling voice imaginable. “He is mine, and so too will you be soon!” it said, as the rock upon which they stood rose up around Maringar as if it was alive, and embraced the dwarf in two horrifying arms of black and shimmering, liquid stone.

Chapter Twenty-seven

“Is it not colder than usual for this time of year?” Alemar asked Teetoo, and she put another branch on top of the fire. “I am accustomed to low temperatures, but this feels wrong.”

“Yes. The winds are too strong. They bring with them a moisture that chills the air unnaturally,” he replied.

“From the south it comes,” she said, as she held up her palm and felt it blow against her naked hand. “From Sedahar?”

“From Sedahar, I fear,” the Weloh said to her, as his saucer-like eyes glowed curiously in the dark.

“How far are we, do you think?”

“Another two day’s ride, no more,” he answered.

“We cannot just ride up to the gates and announce ourselves. We must plan what we will do,” Alemar said with an acerbity in her tone that was so alien to her character.

“There are no gates, Alemar,” Teetoo began to explain. “None have been so bold nor so reckless as to try to gain entrance into the Dark Lord’s home voluntarily. He has not erected walls to keep people out, but merely to keep them in.”

“Reckless? Has no one ever assaulted him on his own ground?” she asked.

“No one,” he replied.

“Then you and I shall be the first ones to do so?” she asked, and a spark lit her voice momentarily. “Ah, to be the vanguard of such an effort!” she said, though the sarcasm had quickly returned.

“It is quite a responsibility indeed,” he answered her solemnly, disturbed by the mood that dominated her words and actions.

“Teetoo?” she asked. “Are we mad? Do we really have a chance? What weapons can we wield against his dreadful power?” she questioned, her face sad and disconsolate once again.

“Of course we have a chance, however remote it may appear to be, Princess. Much will depend upon us and much upon him. He will not be expecting any such assault for just this reason; it has never happened before. We bring with us the element of surprise,” Teetoo said. “And remember, we are not seeking to topple him from power alone and unassisted. Our aim is to free Premoran, not to kill Colton dar Agonthea!”

“And if we could?” she asked.

“Kill him?” he replied.

“Yes. Rid the earth of him once and for all.”

“It is beyond our power to do that, I am afraid. A force greater than what we possess would be required. He has grown too strong.”

“Elsinestra was correct then. Nothing short of dissolution will destroy him,” she said almost despondently. “So how can we ever be victorious? We will require more than surprise alone I suspect. Are we fooling ourselves?” she asked again and hung her head down.

“The boy must find the Gem,” Teetoo replied. “The answer lies there. Victory for us will not mark the end of the war. We can alter the pattern in the weave by our actions, but we alone cannot complete the cloth.”

“So we just fight on despite the fact that we really cannot do anything ultimately to help? If it is all up to Davmiran, why do we bother then?”

“What has brought this heartsickness upon you, Alemar?” he asked her sincerely. “Since we left Seramour, you have been so negative. For brief moments your enthusiasm returns, and then you sink deeper into this dejection. Things have not changed all that much in such a short while. What happened to the victorious warrior I met some weeks ago who ascended into the Heights with confidence and optimism spilling forth from every pore in her body?”

“I do not know, Teetoo,” she said forthright. “I must have left it in Seramour. A malaise has enveloped me and I cannot shrug it off. I fear for the earth. I fear so desperately for the earth that it hurts me day and night,” she replied. “And I am angry. I despise Caeltin! He is so cruel and so evil. I do not understand how a soul could be so black and uncaring. And the fact that his is, casts a shadow across all that I do. As we departed the Heights, this darkness grasped hold of my heart, and it has not let go since. Why is this happening? Have I been possessed?”

“It is hard not to hate him, though it will do you only harm if it does not motivate you to fight on. He is despicable. He cannot love. Pity him instead.”

“Pity one such as he? To what end? I would rather hate him,” she said sullenly.

“Then hate him, but do not regret it. If you choose to feel so about another, than accept those feelings and embrace them. If your abhorrence of him is a choice, use it as best as you can. If you let hate have you and you allow it to darken your soul, then you are indeed possessed. If you view it as a proper reaction to something abhorrent in nature, something your essence cannot tolerate without recoiling, then it will not dominate you.”

“I guess it is a choice, now that you put it that way. You are right,” she said, as she nodded her head. “It is not the feeling itself, but how I respond to it that matters. Thank you, Teetoo. I feel much better already. Sometimes I forget what I can restrain and what I cannot.”

“You are a woman of great self-control and of great emotion. It is sometimes hard to balance those two characteristics, yet they make you so unique and so vital,” he said admiringly. “A soul as alive and generous as yours must learn better how to defend itself against evil’s devastation.”

“To feel is to suffer. What is the alternative? I would have to be as cold as a stone in order not to be sad as a result of my reflections,” she replied, confused.

“Sadness is not bad in and of itself, Alemar. It is your response to that which feels so unfair that is crippling you now. Yet you are allowing it to do so, and to affect moments yet unborn as well. There is no logical relation there,” Teetoo explained.

Alemar contemplated his words deeply.

“You are so right, Teetoo!” she replied. “The future looks sad to me because I have been viewing it through a darkened glass. But it is not yet upon us, so why look at it in such a skewed manner?” she asked herself. “I see this darkness lingering upon the edge of my emotions, the perimeter of my consciousness, and it angers me. I want it to be gone, but it persists and it taints all of my thoughts.”

“This is the effect he has upon you. It is purposeful and difficult to combat. But you must do it nonetheless,” Teetoo said. “You cannot allow him to influence your actions, despite the awareness of his evil presence.”

“I must! And I will try. I promise,” she proclaimed.

“Good. Then it is time for us to discuss how we are going to accomplish our objectives. I have hesitated until such a moment. Are you sure you are ready?” he asked. “If you remain so negative, it will be fruitless to try and devise a successful plan with you,” the Weloh said, ever the pragmatist.

“Yes. I cannot say that my mood has changed entirely. But it will. I really do see your points. Either I must govern my own emotions or constantly be a victim of them. And, I have never been a very good victim,” she smiled. “In fact, my resistance has been at its best in situations where I have been most imperiled,” Alemar replied, forcing herself to shake off her uneasiness.

“Like all heroes,” Teetoo said under his breath.

“What did you say?” she asked, uncertain if she heard him correctly.

“I said that you are like all the other heroes I have known,” he repeated.

“I am not a hero, Teetoo. I have done nothing to warrant such praise,” she said, scoffing at his words.

“I beg to differ with you, Alemar. You may not realize it, but your actions in the woods of Lormarion are already being sung by the bards all over the land. You are considered to be the one who has single handedly reunited the elfin kingdoms, rescued the legions of Iscaron from perpetual suffering and rid the forest of Colton’s hideous army all at the same time. Argue with me if you wish, but these deeds sound very much to me like the actions of a hero,” Teetoo explained. “Your.…”

“Did you hear that?” she blurted out, interrupting his praise, and the two of them crouched down defensively with their backs touching so that they could see all around them.

“Yes, I did. Someone or something is approaching,” he replied, and his entire body took on a slightly different color; a bit paler as if the blood had receded from his extremities.

The Weloh’s arms elongated silently beside him and the translucent filaments reddened slightly in response. Alemar felt the soft, almost down-like surface brush against the skin of her arms, and her entire body tingled momentarily. She lifted her bow silently from off of her own back and then quietly slipped an arrow into it.

“Have you a sense of what it is?” she whispered.

“Not human. I would know that by now. Not animal either,” he said, sniffing the air silently. “Elfin I think.”

They then both heard a thrashing in the trees to the east and it was clear that whoever was approaching no longer felt the need for stealth.

“Who goes there?” Alemar shouted. “Declare yourself!”

“It is us, Princess!” a deep and familiar voice called out. “Giles and Clovis,” the blonde haired elf yelled as he strolled out of the woods leading his huge stallion by the reins.

Princess Alemar rose up and walked toward the source of the voice.

“What are you two doing here?” she demanded, exasperated. “How did you know where to find me?”

“Though your friend left little or no marks, your trail was rather easy to follow,” Clovis kidded her.

“I will keep that in mind the next time I decide to go off without you both,” she replied. “I asked you not to come. Why have you disobeyed me?”

“Did you? I must not have been listening when you said that,” Giles feigned innocence.

“Nor I,” Clovis echoed his friend’s words as he too emerged from the cover of the trees.

“Unfortunately, it is too late now. We are here!” Giles said matter-of-factly, and he turned his hands palms up like a young child.

“Yes, I can see that,” Alemar replied, annoyed, though in her heart she was glad to see them both.

“This will complicate our mission,” Teetoo stated. “We were counting upon surprise to be a substantial advantage for us.”

“Oh, do not worry about us,” Giles replied. “We can be as quiet as mice,” he said, as he noisily climbed down off of his huge white stallion, with his various weapons clinking and clanging as he moved.

“Yes, that is obvious, Giles. I am so much more confident now that you have reassured me of this,” Alemar said sarcastically, though she smiled inwardly all the while.

The large blonde elf was busy fiddling with a spear that he had removed from a secure spot upon his saddle. He seemed to have weapons hanging everywhere. He aimed it away from the group and pressed upon the shaft. With incredible speed, it almost tripled in length, and then he brandished it before him as if he was testing its weight and balance before retracting it once again.

“Put your toys away, Giles. Now that we have found them we have other things to talk about,” Clovis said to his companion. “We were unable to merely sit idly by and await your return to Seramour, Princess. Both of us would have gone mad not knowing how you fared. You should have known that. It was cruel of you to leave us so,” he protested.

“I left you both for a reason. Teetoo? Explain it to them please. They seem not to take my concerns seriously,” she said.

The Weloh, who had stood up earlier when Alemar rose to greet her friends, closed his eyes for a short moment and a slight tremor ran over his body. His arms returned to normal and the filaments disappeared completely from view as if they did not exist at all, and then he prepared to address the two new arrivals.

“We are not going on a journey of recreation and relaxation,” he began. “It is crucial that we move stealthily and draw no attention to ourselves. Once we arrive there, our enemy will have the advantage of strength and we will need to balance the odds as best as we are able to. The fact that our approach will be unexpected will mitigate that somewhat. But if we are discovered on route to his stronghold, it will greatly imperil our chances of success,” he said.

“We found your trail quite easily, Princess,” Giles jibed. “Noise alone is not the only evidence of your travels that you must conceal then,” he warned.

“Yes. It seems you are correct in that respect, Giles,” Alemar replied. “And I thank you for bringing this to our attention. We did not, though, expect to be tracked by anyone coming from the direction of Lormarion as yet. Though your point is well taken.”

“Did you really think you could leave us so easily without even a word of farewell?” Clovis asked. “What did you expect us to do? Do not tell me you are surprised that we came after you. You should have known better, Princess.”

Alemar blushed, shook her head slightly from left to right and then smiled.

“I should have known better, dear Clovis,” she agreed.

“If we can maintain the secrecy of our journey, the addition of your friends to our ranks may be a boon to us in the end.”

“You mean we can stay?” Giles joked.

“You may stay,” Alemar replied like a mother addressing her children, and the two elfin warriors simultaneously sighed in affected relief.

“Very well then,” Alemar began. “Now that you are here it is necessary that you know where we are headed and what we intend to do. Do you wish to tell them, Teetoo, or shall I?”

“Be my guest, Princess,” the Weloh replied, and he stepped to the side.

The Princess then briefly related to them their destination and purpose, though neither seemed surprised or concerned throughout her telling. When she finished, both Clovis and Giles shrugged their shoulders as if they had just been invited upon the most innocent and harmless of journeys.

“How long will it take us to get there?” Giles asked nonchalantly.

“Is there no one to fight?” Clovis inquired. “We are merely going to sneak in and free the wizard and then leave?”

“That would be the most ideal of all results,” Teetoo replied. “But, I fear it may not be that simple.”

“We are going to Sedahar, you buffoons!” Alemar said lovingly, though impatiently. “What greater peril could you envision than walking directly into Caeltin D’Are Agenathea’s very own home? Do you think he will sit lazily by while we release his brother, his most coveted of prisoners, from his captivity and run away with him?”

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