The Shards (31 page)

Read The Shards Online

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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“This heir?” she finally said. “How do we find him, assuming of course that we can retrieve the shard and after we dispose of the map?” she asked. Her tone of voice was beyond the point of disbelief by now.

“Etuah will not be able to assist you either. Her time will expire after she has secured the heart,” Hewlo said.

“Either? Are you saying that I must do this alone? And what do you mean by ‘expire’? You mean she will die? What about Angeline?” Tamara was becoming agitated. “What is going on here?” she asked, and her concern was mounting precipitously.

“Angeline shall remain with us,” Petuah said calmly. “She will take Etuah’s place here.”

“What did you say?” Tamara asked, as her head snapped in Petuah’s direction.

She was thoroughly shocked by his words. She looked at Angeline who appeared to be quite calm, though her features were becoming a slight bit blurred in the odd light of the room.

“He said that I am going to stay here, sister,” Angeline said. “Do not be frightened for me. I think I knew that the moment that I stepped into the hollows.”

Her hair had loosened itself from the braid that had bound it, and it streamed out behind her as if the wind was blowing it, but there was not even the slightest breeze to be felt in the chamber.

“I belong here now. This is as it should be. ‘The Drue find, the Drue keep’, sister. You have not studied your books well,” Angeline smiled.

“No, Angeline! It cannot be! What will you do here?” Tamara asked.

“I will do what the others do,” she replied. “Only the Chosen come and go from this place. All the rest of us remain.”

“We were all like you at one time,” Uhani said to Tamara.

“Like us?” Tamara asked.

“Yes—human, elf or dwarf. But now we are all Drue,” Hewlo said. “The change comes quickly once the role is accepted.”

“Angeline will be safe here,” Behani said kindly. “Our numbers are finite. When one of us leaves, another must take his or her place. It is so ordained.”

“And if someone new should arrive, then one of us here must go,” Etuah said.

“How did you first get here then?” Tamara asked, still astounded by this turn of events.

“We were not necessary until only recently. The trees flourished and spread throughout the land for thousands of tiels. When the first Lalas died, our services were required,” Petuah explained.

“Who were the original ones?” Tamara asked. “If you were all from somewhere above before, how were the first of you ever chosen for this role?”

“We assembled slowly and gradually. All of us stumbled upon the forbidden places unwittingly, or so it seemed. Remember, the spaces in between did not exist until the first tree departed,” Uhani said.

“Your families and friends did not know what happened to you?” she asked.

“No. They must have thought that we came to harm somehow, and simply disappeared,” Petuah replied. “The only regrets that we all have is that we could not put them at ease.”

“We learned soon after our small group was formed that the hollows can only sustain a finite number of us. Though there are others of us, our numbers are limited. When someone new arrives who is not already Chosen for other purposes, they must replace one of us who is already here. We do not choose,” Behani said.

“No. Neither those who come nor those who go,” Etuah said.

“How is it decided then?” Tamara asked.

“The fabric weaves of its own will. But, when it is time for a change, we all know,” Hewlo said. “As more trees die, perhaps our ranks will increase. We cannot hope for such an occurrence for it could only indicate a greater need, precipitated by an even greater loss. And now the darkening…”

“Darkening?” Tamara repeated. “What in the name of the First is…”

Angeline grabbed her arm and squeezed it. “Do not ask such questions of the Drue, “ she whispered.

“But why not? “ Tamara insisted. “Hewlo brought it up.”

“Please Sister. Do as I ask. And do not fear for me. They have given me a purpose which I embrace with all my heart,” Angeline said. “I am ready for this. It seems so right to me.”

Tamara hugged her friend with both arms. She could already see the transformation beginning, and though it saddened her to think that she would be losing her forever, she believed Angeline when she said that it was something that she welcomed.

“Are you certain Angeline, that this is something you want to do?” she asked.

“More certain than I have ever been about anything else in my life. Even more certain than I was when I first entered Parth and became a sister,” she admitted. “Believe me, Tamara. I would not lie to you.”

“I will miss you, sister. What shall I do without you?” she implored.

“You are so strong, Tamara. Far stronger than I ever was or ever would be. I will do my part here,” she replied.

“Will I ever see you again?” she questioned her friend.

“That will not be possible,” Uhani answered for her.

Tamara’s heart skipped a beat.

“How will I know that you are alright?” she pleaded.

“You need have faith, dear sister. This is how it must be. I could never return now even if I so wished,” Angeline replied, and she opened her arms wide and purposely drew attention to her body.

Her skin appeared to be getting pallid and translucent even as they spoke, and her eyes were suddenly more rounded and luminescent. She glowed with a pale though obvious inner light. Angeline reached out her hand and touched Tamara affectionately on her arm, and in the dimness it seemed as if her fingers had already grown considerably in length.

“Will you remember me? Will you still know who I am after I am gone?” Tamara asked.

“Yes, sister. I will remember you always. You are the one who brought me here. I shall e’er be grateful,” Angeline replied in a voice more ethereal than ever before.

“Promise me, Angeline!” Tamara said.

“I promise,” she replied, and they embraced affectionately.

Her body felt thinner and frailer to the touch, but Tamara sensed a profound energy within it as well, and that served to comfort her despite the heaviness she felt in her chest. She kissed her on the cheek.

“May the First protect you and keep you, dear sister,” Tamara said, and she forced herself to step back a pace, hoping that the distance would help her to maintain her composure.

“I will be safer than I have ever been, sister,” she smiled. “May the Gem of Eternity guide you through the darkness always.”

“You are my best friend, Angeline. I will miss you so much,” she said, as she fought to hold back the tears she vowed to herself she would not shed now.

“And I you,” she responded, choking on her emotion as well. “But this is where I belong. Your destiny lies elsewhere, and this fact is beyond our control. We must accept what we cannot change,” she replied, and Tamara reluctantly nodded her agreement.

“I am proud of you, Angeline. I will always be so proud of you,” Tamara said sweetly. “You will be in my heart forever.”

“As you will be in mine, sister. Forever,” she replied with unbridled emotion.

“And you Etuah? What will become of you after I remove the shard?” Tamara asked, forcing herself to turn her attention to the Drue woman before she broke down entirely.

“I will die,” Etuah replied calmly. “I have lived a long life, Chosen. No one should mourn my passing. Besides, your friend will take my name and my place.”

This was all happening too fast. Tamara was so overwhelmed by the events that she could barely maintain her perspective. She looked from one of the Drue to the next, searching for solace until her gaze rested once more upon Angeline.

“What am I to do then?” she asked. “How will I find my way to Odelot without you, Angeline? And how will I ever find the heir?” she asked, momentarily losing her confidence.

“I will guide you through the nethers, and I will set you on the right path through the forbidden places. You will find the dead city if that is what you wish,” Etuah replied with no doubt in her voice.

“But what of the boy? How will I locate him?”

“That will be the simplest task of all for you to accomplish,” the Drue said. “You merely need to return to Parth once you have relinquished the map. He is there now in the Tower with his companions, and he will be there when you get back,” Etuah said. “They await your return, though they know it not yet.”

“When must we leave here, Etuah,” she asked.

“As soon as we can. This space cannot sustain both Angeline and me after her transformation is complete. If we do not leave before that, it will be impossible for me to leave at all. I shall die here.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Tamara asked, as she tried to sound optimistic. “If I have to say goodbye to my sister once more, I will probably die here as well,” she said. She smiled endearingly at Angeline, despite the tears that were building up in the comers of her eyes and blurring her vision even further.

“Please help us to gather the few supplies we will need. Time grows short. We must hurry now,” Etuah said with an urgency that they had not heard in her voice before.

Tamara watched while the five other Drue glided off to carry out her request, and included among them now was Angeline as if she had been one of the guardians since the beginning of time.

Chapter Thirty-two

Maringar could only watch from within his imprisoned body as his friend attempted to free him from the beast’s possession. Beolan slashed out with his dagger, but there was no enemy to strike that a blade could harm. But in his frustration and fear, he swung nevertheless. The walls of the cavern were alive, and the ground upon which he stood heaved and buckled.

Silandre resisted with all of her might, but the Armadiel infiltrated the stone despite her efforts. Long fingers of rock reached out from above and below and threatened to engulf the elf as he jockeyed for space, leaping deftly from left to right. The walls themselves expanded and contracted with each breath of the beast. Maringar stood helplessly by and watched, incapable of moving even an inch on his own. It felt as if his insides were being consumed by a ravenous invader, and he wanted to scream, but even that he was unable to do. His mouth moved involuntarily, and the beast used his body mercilessly.

“Surrender to me, elf! You cannot win. I can give you eternal life. With me you can become a part of your beloved mountain!” Maringar’s voice said.

“You bring nothing but death and defilement to Crispen! You are the instrument of the Dark Lord, and nothing more!” Beolan shouted, as he leapt upon an escarpment to the side of him and drew an arrow from his quiver and set it to bow. “Show yourself, coward!” he yelled, but the demon only laughed through the mouth of his captive friend.

Beolan stood with his back to an earthen wall, and he sought shelter from the stone into which the Armadiel had insinuated itself.

“Have you no strength of your own, beast? Must you always use another’s body?” he shouted in an effort to distract him and keep him off guard.

“I will use yours soon enough, little one,” he replied, as the dwarfs lips mouthed the beast’s words. “Shoot me here if you want. Kill your friend. Perhaps you will hurt me too,” the Armadiel prodded him.

“You come and get me!! Maybe hiding in an elf’s body would make you feel safer than in a dwarf’s,” Beolan teased it, hoping to give him a reason to leave Maringar alone.

Three hands of stone rose up from the ground before him and grasped his ankles. He cringed in pain as they dug into his skin. The walls were contracting and expanding more violently now. Beolan shouldered his bow and smacked the flat side of his dagger against the rock as hard as he could, seeking to loosen the grip that was tightening around him. Sparks of power flew as the elfin metal met the stone, and he was able to fend them off for the moment as he leapt out of their way to another sheltered alcove.

The Armadiel continued to speak through his prisoner’s lips, but his friend’s body had remained stationary the entire time.

“Resist, Maringar! He has not captured your soul!” Beolan shouted. “Coward! You are a coward, just as we were told. Have you no body to fight with that you have not stolen? The Dark Lord’s puppet seeks a puppet of his own? Your master has taught you well.”

“No one is my master!” the voice bellowed from Maringar’s mouth, its anger obvious.

Beolan touched upon a raw nerve, and quickly realizing it, he sought now to capitalize upon his discovery.

“Everyone is your master if you must use them so! Why will you not reveal yourself then? Stand before us! Have you no pride? Must you hide inside of another?”

Silandre creaked and groaned as it resisted the beast’s advances, and Maringar’s face writhed in agony. Cracks and fissures appeared upon the rock walls and the earth beneath their feet shifted and shook violently. Boulders tumbled to the surface and sent clouds of dust and debris into the cramped space, and great fissures appeared in the stone floor. The ground trembled and shuddered from the impact of the falling rocks.

“You are just a tool of the Dark Lord; another of his pawns. He is using you for his own purposes. Do you know why you are here?” Beolan asked while walking backward all the time and now drawing the Armadiel with him. Maringar’s body walked stiffly in pursuit.

“To destroy Crispen!” it replied. “To possess the water and the rock and claim it for my own forever.”

“You are a fool if that is what you believe!” Beolan shouted as he inched his way back down the passage.

The earth shook even more violently all around and the walls and ceiling closed in upon them like a vise. The stone moaned louder and shifted precariously under the pressure that the beast was exerting upon it from within.

“What would you have me believe then, elf?” Maringar’s lips moved. “That I do not govern my own destiny?”

“You do his bidding and you do not even know it!” Beolan continued, inciting it and coaxing it all the while.

His tactics were working, as the ego of the snake was even bigger than he had imagined. As he suspected, the great power of the beast was matched in intensity by its pride and arrogance.

“Your destiny is to serve Caeltin d’Are Agenathea as is the case for all of those who ally with him. Did you think that you and he were partners? Did you presume that you were his equal?”

“I have my purposes, he has his!” the beast replied, still unconvinced.

“Ha!” Beolan snickered. “You do only what he wants you to do and no more. Do not flatter yourself,” he taunted. “Has he not even told you of the key?” he asked as ambiguously as possible while seeking to gather any information that he could from the unsuspecting monster.

“The key to what? The key to power no one need advise me of,” it replied, misconstruing Beolan’s question. “If it is a key to conquering this mountain, then I know more than he could about such subjects, and there are no doors in Crispen that I require a key to open, little one!” he boasted.

At least Beolan now knew that the Dark Lord did not inform it of his true purpose in resurrecting it. And thus, he could safely obviate the prospect that the key was in the Armadiel’s possession. He smiled inwardly, as the image of his father’s face passed across his mind’s eye. Relieved, he tucked the new information into the back of his mind for the present and focused once again on more pressing matters.

The cracks in the walls were becoming more numerous, and Beolan was quickly growing concerned that the sides of the passage would soon cave in on them if the rock continued to deteriorate in this manner. He needed to carefully weigh how far to push the beast before its anger brought the entire mountain down upon them. He was trying to lure the monster back down the passage way in the direction that they had come from originally, hoping that the dwarves had burrowed fast enough so that they could come upon him from behind and surround him as planned, and in that he was succeeding. He jumped from his stony perch to another and then to another, and each time Maringar’s possessed body slowly followed him.

“Silandre will not surrender to you, usurper,” he chided him. “This mountain has a soul of its own. It is elfin too, just like me!”

“It has already given itself up,” he replied confidently. “The resistance has practically ceased.”

“Never! You are wrong. Just as you let the Dark Lord delude you, so have you allowed your arrogance to blind you to the truth. Silandre is still alive,” Beolan said. “She is older than you, Armadiel. She is as old as time itself. Be on your guard.”

An inhuman growl roared from Maringar’s mouth. The beast was growing frustrated by the baiting, and the elf recognized that.

“You will be crushed like an insect in the dwarf’s body. Has your master not warned you? Silandre will collapse upon you before she surrenders!”

“I cannot die like that, little one. Let the entire mountain come down upon me. I am not afraid,” it responded. “I am not afraid of anything!”

“If his body dies, then you will suffer with it. Caeltin knows that. He sent another to do his dirty work once before. Silandre will trap you, like it trapped him,” he warned. “Take your chances if you are foolish enough not to heed my warning.”

“And why then would you tell me this? To assist me? Do you think that I am so simple?” it asked, but Beolan thought he sensed a note of doubt in the response.

“Because I would rather have you as an ally than an enemy!” he said, as he leapt out of the way of another falling stalactite. “Because I feel sorry for you. I have witnessed the fate of those who give of themselves to Caeltin. Though you have come here to kill me, I can still show mercy.”

“I am your enemy!” he bellowed. “Your kind and mine cannot live together! I will consume your soul and the souls of all others like you. We are opposites. Death to you is life to me!”

“And what of your master? Has he not told you what he wants of you? We are more alike than you and he are,” Beolan said with as sincere a tone as he could muster while cringing privately at the thought.

“He is not my master, little one!” the monster hissed. “He released me. That is all.”

“Do you wish to die then? Is death better than captivity?” Beolan asked, as he continued to retreat down the corridor. “Death is life, you say? Do you not know what death means to him? It is not what you think, Armadiel!”

“What I think, little one, is that you are trying to confuse me. She who imprisoned me is dead. He killed her. Your great trees are dying! That much I know. And your mountain will die too. I shall become the potency that guides it! It will be my instrument and it will resound with my tune!”

“You do not know what the Dark Lord seeks, then,” he said, as if some great secret had been kept from him. “Has your ally not told you of his deepest desires? Has he not shared the truth with you, since he is such a friend?” he continued to mock it.

“Power! We both seek power! I attain it by consuming the lives of those like you,” the Armadiel snickered.

“He seeks only death and dissolution! Dissolution, beast! Dissolution!” Beolan shouted. “Know you not what that means for you?” he asked, feigning disbelief.

“What is this word you speak of to me?” he replied. He had become curious now.

Maringar’s possessed figure was slowly and stiffly walking down the path, steadily following Beolan all the while as he spoke.

“Caeltin d’Are Agenathea has no interest in you. He is using you. If you hinder us here we cannot fight against him elsewhere. What bargain did you make with the Dark One? He did not respect you enough to tell you of his deepest desires? We cannot help to prevent him from destroying the world if we must fight you as well.”

“Why should I care what he wishes? Let him enjoy his power in his realm, and I will savor mine. He offered me Crispen.”

“And yet, it was not his to give. What did he really do for you? Or are you doing it all for him?” Beolan asked. “If he wins, you will perish too! Just like all the rest of us! Dissolution spares no one and no thing!”

“He cannot kill me. And neither can you, little one,” the Armadiel said.

“You truly are a fool, beast!” Beolan scoffed at it. “I can hear him laughing at you all the way from Sedahar!” he teased. “Listen and you will hear it too!”

“No one laughs at me!” it replied, and its ire was growing steadily.

“He is laughing. And so am I! He deceived you so easily! “ Beolan jeered.

“I said, no one laughs at me!” it roared and the chamber shook all around them. “Even you, little one,” it hissed.

Long arms of rock shot out from the walls and the floor menacingly in all directions, though they did not touch Beolan. The beast now sought only to impress the crafty young elf with his might. His pride compelled him unwittingly to seek Beolan’s respect.

“Are you dumb then?” he pressed him. “You do not know what dissolution really means? Go back to school, beast, if you know what’s good for you. Quit this mountain and learn what your fate will be. Dissolution means the end for us all, you included! That is what he craves. That is all that he desires. Power is a means. Dissolution is the end.”

The Armadiel was growing tired in Maringar’s body. It was feeling the fatigue of its host, and it knew that the dwarfs body could not sustain his presence much longer. And, it was also growing confused by Beolan’s constant questions and persistent jibing. It contemplated resuming its own shape and showing this brazen young elf the true and fearsome form of the Armadiel, and then putting an end to him.

“Your friend is dying, little one,” the monster warned him.

“Only cowards kill the unsuspecting, beast. Let him live. Show me that you have courage after all,” Beolan said.

“Show you my courage? To what purpose?”

“Because I doubt that you possess it. Because I think you are scared and you could not bear watching me die whilst I still believed that!”

“You doubt my courage?” it bellowed. “Behold!” it said, as Maringar’s exhausted body collapsed heavily to the floor of the cavern.

Right before Beolan’s eyes, an enormous being sprang to life. It rose from the rock as if it was growing out of the stone itself. Countless black scales covered it from the top of its head to the tip of its tail, and each one gleamed and glinted even in the semi- darkness of the cavern. Though it was referred to as the Snake of Recos by some, it looked more like an animal than a serpent. It had two arms and two legs that terminated in long, sharp, menacing claws instead of benign fingers and toes, and it stood erect at least twelve feet in the air. Its head was huge and sat precariously atop a muscular neck that seemed to elongate and contract with each of the heavy breaths it took. The nose was broad and the nostrils were wide. Its eyes were almond shaped and very large, and when it blinked, the eyelids seemed transparent. The black pupils stared at Beolan even from behind the lids. Its mouth was well formed and human looking, and it seemed oddly out of place on its face. Behind its thin lips were two rows of pointed teeth, though none were large enough to appear dangerous. The tail was the only other characteristic that looked to be reptilian aside from the scales, and it moved back and forth threateningly across the floor, as it slowly swept from left to right. It was quite long and it reached nearly to Beolan’s feet as it arced across the surface, causing him to step back cautiously in order to remain out of its reach.

Beolan found it difficult to breathe for the stench of the beast was almost unbearable. Its body seethed with a menacing power, and the rock walls of the cavern mimicked it, sucking the air out with each compression and filling the chamber with the most putrid and suffocating smell Beolan had ever inhaled. He covered his mouth and nose with a scarf that he pulled from his pocket, but it did nothing to prevent the odor from reaching his nostrils. He saw that his friend was still breathing, and thanking the First, he bent down and placed his gloveless hand on the dwarfs burning forehead.

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