The Shards (33 page)

Immediately, two more dwarves rushed in to replace those who had fallen. With a fierce rage, they pummeled the monster with their sharp axes, but this time they retreated before it had a chance to strike. Another then dashed across the heaving stone floor with a pick in one hand and its heavy hammer in the other. Unnoticed at first by the frenzied beast, it inserted the sharp, diamond tip of its pick between two scales on the back of its leg and swung its hammer hard and true. The armor gave way and two black scales fell to the ground. The Armadiel screeched in response and swiveled around supplely, but it was too late to catch the nimble dwarf. It had already made its way back to the shelter of one of the barricades.

“It is beginning to tire,” Beolan said, as he noticed that it was breathing more heavily than before. “Do not waver now!” he urged. “We must force the transformation upon it.”

Despite the casualties, they fought on without respite, heeding Beolan’s words and trying not to give the beast a moment to do anything more than defend itself from their attacks. In response, the Armadiel’s tail surged deep into the stone floor once again and this time the entire chamber shuddered, but its eyes were not as bright as before and its movements were a slight bit slower now than previously.

An arrow struck it in its eyelid, and though it quickly pulled the shaft out and broke it in half, the eye began to swell. The few areas where it was vulnerable were being targeted as heavily as they could be by the attacking armies, and though they all knew it would never ultimately succumb to this type of assault, both the dwarves and the elves were cognizant of the ulterior motive of their continued onslaught. At some point, the beast would need to rest and then it would try to replenish itself.

A fissure suddenly appeared in the rock upon which they all stood. It was only about a fingertip in width at first sight, but as the floor shook and throbbed, it grew wider. Maringar noticed it first, and he drew Beolan’s attention to it right away.

“It runs from one end to the other, it seems,” the dwarf said. “Do you think that the beast can cleave the entire mountain?” he asked.

“I do not know the extent of its ability, nor of its power. But the cleft grows even as we speak. We have to get it to remove its tail from the rock!” Beolan said.

“If you show yourself, that will no doubt enrage it even more. In its misguided way, the Armadiel thought you were its friend,” Maringar said.

“Misguided indeed! I do pity it, but I wish to see it dead and gone from Silandre and Crispen as surely as I would if it was Caeltin himself!” Beolan replied.

Without another word, Maringar pulled his dagger from the scabbard at his waist and lofted his axe in his other hand. He dashed from behind the rocks while shrieking a dwarven war cry at the top of his lungs, and he waved his weapons dangerously above his head. A flurry of elfin arrows accompanied his advance, along with another charge upon the monster’s rear by a quartet of dwarves.

The Armadiel’s big eyes were half closed and its head lolled heavily upon its now contracted neck. Many of the scales that protected it showed signs of damage, though only two had fallen to the surface. It continued to bat away the metal tipped shafts that rained down upon it, though with less speed and dexterity than previously. Many of the barbs penetrated its defenses, but they only bounced harmlessly off of its black armor. The beast’s powerful tail remained thrust deep into the stone, and the reverberations could be felt everywhere. The chasm in the floor of the chamber was widening steadily.

When it saw Maringar, its helpless captive of only hours ago, rushing toward it with his weapons raised, its concentration lapsed momentarily. Distracted by the multifaceted assault as hoped, as well as by the attack upon its pride, its tail withdrew involuntarily from beneath the surface. The vibrations ceased immediately. With whirlwind speed, Maringar attacked, and the beast swung its tail around in order to intercept him. Dropping his dagger, he nimbly ducked and pivoted and then extended his razor sharp axe above his head with both hands securely holding the handle. The Armadiel’s tail swept over the honed metal of his weapon. The blade sliced clean through three of the beast’s bottom scales due to the immense force of the monster’s own action. Black blood poured from the wound and sizzled as it splattered upon the surface. Maringar had been knocked to the floor by the impact, but he was unharmed. He rose quickly and grabbed his axe before scurrying back to the defensive lines. The Armadiel howled from the unexpected and unfamiliar pain. It knew instinctively that it now needed to renew itself, and quickly!

Its eyes clouded over and it drew in its arms. Its big head sunk down upon its chest and the now wounded tail wrapped itself protectively around its legs and lower body. In the dim light, the black scales glowed eerily and seemed to be changing before their very eyes.

“Well done, my friend!” Beolan said, and he slapped the dwarf sharply upon his back.

“The time approaches,” Maringar said to Beolan. “By the First, let us pray that our interpretation of the ancient texts is correct. If so, we must strike the deadly blow when it is most vulnerable. I doubt we will have a second chance.”

“I am right beside you!” Beolan replied as the two warriors leapt forward in order to approach the beast.

Maringar had replaced his axe in its sheath and he now held the thick dagger with his two strong hands. Beolan left his bow behind and he too held his long, thin sword with both hands. Side by side, they walked toward the monster. It still stood before them, though it barely moved. Only its heavy breathing indicated that it was still alive. They watched as the color of its skin began to change, beginning at its head. The black scales started to turn pale and almost translucent. At the same time, its eyes closed completely and each breath that it took became slower and less frequent. It seemed to be totally unaware of the presence of the two warriors. Its skin started to fall away from its head and neck, and soon it hung limply all around. Softened scales fell to the ground everywhere. But, almost as fast as they peeled away, new ones formed, and the new ones were once again deep black and luminescent. There appeared to be no more than fifteen seconds between the shedding of the old skin and the formation of the new.

“The heart is where we must strike if we are to be successful,” Beolan said.

“I am ready,” Maringar replied.

They watched the transformation with bated breath, awaiting their one moment to attack. The shoulders of the beast were now exposed, and in a matter of seconds they were armored and invincible looking once again. Its skin hung all around it in heavy folds by this time, as the shedding progressed. Soon, the protective armor had faded and fallen away almost to the beast’s chest.

“Prepare yourself!” Maringar said, and he raised his dagger in the air.

A large piece of skin and scales fell to the stone surface, and as it dropped away it revealed a bony section of chest hidden beneath it. Maringar lunged with the speed and force of a man possessed, and he sliced the beast’s thorax down the middle, breaking his dagger in the process on the hard bones of the monster, while leaving a deep gash in the demon. Black blood poured form the wound, but the scales were quickly reforming above it. Beolan followed closely behind, and with both hands grasping his sword, he thrust his weapon as far as he could into the Armadiel’s body. He twisted it violently, hoping to rend the Armadiel’s heart with one swift shove, but he was unsuccessful. The black blood, though dripping from the wound itself, was not the blood of a sundered heart.

“Help me, Maringar!” he yelled.

The dwarf had been watching closely, though he had no useful weapon in his hand any longer.

“I have not the strength to drive my blade home!” Beolan said.

They both saw the scales rapidly approaching the wound that they had just made. Maringar lifted Beolan in his muscular arms and thrust him upward and into the body of the beast. This effort gave him just the right amount of leverage he needed to manipulate the sharp blade that he held. Pushing up himself with his own strength as well, he now had enough momentum to reach and pierce the Armadiel’s throbbing heart. He shoved his ancient blade deep into the demon’s organ. Torrents of jet black liquid rained down upon the two of them, pulsing and shooting everywhere, and Beolan and Maringar both collapsed under the weight of the beast’s coursing essence.

“We have to get out of the way,” Maringar yelled, and with a second wind he lifted Beolan once more and carried the exhausted elf back a few paces.

The blood continued to pour out of the body of the beast, and by this time it had covered the floor in an ever spreading pool of slippery liquid that was slowly seeping into the cracks of the surface. The monster’s eyes were still closed and its skin fell away as if it was still shedding, though no more new scales appeared to be forming any longer. The massive legs of the Armadiel were beginning to buckle at the knees, and its entire body was shriveling like a deflating balloon before their very eyes. It leaned backward upon its tail momentarily, and then it collapsed hard onto the wet surface.

With their two heroic leaders looking on, the other dwarves and elves who had remained behind the barricades now stepped forward and massed around the dying demon in silence, watching with jubilation and relief. Suddenly, the crack in the middle of the floor, cleaved by the Armadiel’s tail only a short while ago, began to increase in breadth. The chamber shook violently and the floor heaved once more as Silandre’s stone jaws opened wide. They drew the beast into them and consumed it completely and forevermore. Pale and broken scales, along with fragments of bone and pieces of ragged skin shot high into the air. A black and bloody mist spread throughout the cavern only moments before an earsplitting groaning sound assaulted the ears of everyone present. As they watched, the gaping cleft in the rock floor clamped violently together, accompanied by an incredibly loud crash that seemed to reverberate endlessly off of the walls and ceiling and was certain to be heard all the way in the city of Crispen itself. The entire mountain trembled and shook as Silandre voraciously digested the final remains of the beast that had so arrogantly sought to possess it.

Chapter Thirty-three

“I need to speak with my brother, Robyn. The ring keeps talking to me. I cannot stop it,” Davmiran said to the Chosen beside him.

They were standing in Dav’s small room talking. The others had long ago gone to sleep and dawn was fast approaching.

“Can you understand what it is saying?” he asked.

“Most of the words are indecipherable. Occasionally I recognize one or two. The only thing that I am certain of though is that it keeps repeating the name ‘Tomas’.”

“Do you know where he is, Dav? Are you able to communicate with him in any way?”

“No. I have no idea where he might be. As for your second question, I have never tried. But, there is no doubt that now I must.”

“Come with me then,” Robyn said and he motioned to the door. “This is not the place to do it. I will find Gretchen and ask her to take us to the tower. That would be a more conducive environment for such an important endeavor, and a more secure one.”

“What do you fear, Robyn?” Davmiran asked, surprised at his friend’s concern. “Surely nothing bad can come of me finally talking to my brother!”

“No, it is not merely the encounter with Tomas that concerns me, though events of this magnitude will impact upon us all,” Robyn replied sincerely. “But, any attempt to even utilize the rings would definitely generate an energy that we would not want anyone else to notice.”

“Anyone like Colton you mean?” Dav asked.

“Yes, or perhaps one of the Possessed who have been tracking us and the others,” he said.

“The others? You mean my brother and his group?”

“Yes. But not them alone. The sisters who left here before we arrived have been followed too.”

“They are safe now. But Robyn…” the boy said, looking into the other’s eyes, “…they are no longer together,” he said.

“The sisters?”

“Yes. They have separated. I have been meaning to tell you this, but it did not seem all that important,” he said with his eyes half closed. “I cannot sense the second one clearly any longer. Before, the shards provided me with images of the two of them, and now I see only one whom I can recognize for certain. Tamara, the stout one, travels with a Drue. The other seems to be there at one moment and then not at the next, and even when she is present before my mind’s eye, her image is vague and unlike what it was before.”

“But she is still alive and unharmed?” Robyn asked.

“Yes, definitely. No harm has come to her.”

“That is good at least. Why they have separated, I do not know.”

“With both the ring and the shards communicating with me, this is all getting very confusing. And tiring!” Dav said. “They speak to me differently, yet they speak nonetheless.”

“They are both powerful relics though they are of diverse origins. I am more familiar with the derivation of the shards power than of the ring’s,” Robyn confessed.

“The ring feels more like an old friend. It comforts me, like a good conscience and seems to give me advice. When the shards speak, I feel as if I am reading a book whose pages are not in order. The story jumps forward and backward and forward again arbitrarily.”

“We must work with both of them, Dav. We must work hard. While we are in Parth, we have an opportunity to do that. Though I am convinced that neither the ring nor the shards are anything more than tools for you, they are of tremendous importance, and learning how to make the most use out of them is crucial.”

“I agree, Robyn. The ring seems to be more efficacious. I can use it to help me and enhance my own abilities. The shards tell me things and allow me to see things that my eyes alone would not, but they do so in images, not words. Yet, even the images feel incomplete somehow. I sense a yearning in the shards,” he explained. “They reach beyond me. It sounds so odd, does is not? The ring itself has a voice, and though I do not recognize it, it feels as familiar as an old shoe.”

“Odd? No,” Robyn replied. “I would not expect anything less. But it is clear that you are learning from them both already,” Robyn commented with satisfaction. “I am not unfamiliar myself with the ring, as you know. I can only assume that the silver one that your brother possesses is similar in nature to yours. I could be wrong, though Dav, and they may be totally different. But, in any case, I am sure that I can help you to utilize its power. It was quite an experience for me that last time in Pardatha, and it was also incredibly draining,” he recalled. “Does communication with it tire you at all?” he asked.

“I cannot say that I have communicated much with it. Rather, it speaks to me. I would like very much to learn how to speak back.”

“That is one of the first things we will work on then. That is if Filaree and Cairn are willing to share you with me,” he smiled. “There is also much that you could learn from Cairn. He traveled with Tomas for quite some time. Their friendship is strong. He is also familiar with his strengths, and he knows his personality. Though you were the one he was called to Pardatha to assist, he spirited him out of his home when the enemy had already located him and escorted him all the way to the city,” Robyn reminded him. “And by the way, thoughts of the shards are never too distant from a Chosen’s mind, though they remind us always of the losses that they are the results of. Nevertheless, we must examine and understand them as well. They may prove to be more potent and more useful than the ring itself, “ Robyn said.

“Although they remind us of the losses, they also represent what can never be lost,” Dav replied.

“Yes, that is true,” Robyn agreed, and he nodded. “As we begin, we will both learn more. Though I am to be your teacher, that fact does not preclude me from gaining knowledge in the process. And it is important too that we learn about the nature of this shield that surrounds us.”

“Does it worry you?” the boy asked.

“Anything that prohibits me from moving freely worries me, Dav. But I do not sense anything evil about it. It even has a vague familiarity to it.”

“It is here to protect us, at least for now, not to harm us. But it is quite impenetrable!” Davmiran said, impressed still with the power of it.

“Quite. I have tried many times to breach it, and I cannot. I feel comfortable with it around us, though I am unaccustomed to being restricted by anything so completely. I am also very anxious for you to learn how to communicate through the ring. But, you must be very careful. The results of your efforts are surely going to be unpredictable at the least. I hope that the shield does not restrict your attempt as well.”

“I do not think it will affect those efforts. This barrier’s protection is much more corporeal in nature. The ring does not require a spatial continuum in order to transmit thoughts. That much I have learned already from it,” Dav replied. “Who do you think has placed this protection around us? Have you any suspicions?”

“I know of only a few who are capable of such things. The trees of course could have been responsible, but I am convinced that it does not stem from them. It feels altogether different. Premoran alas is also an unlikely choice right now. He himself is under great duress.”

“He is alive. The shards tell me that,” Dav said.

“I feel it too, though his power is weakened by his imprisonment.”

“Who else then, Robyn?” the boy asked, and he scrutinized him closely.

“There is one other who has always lived just outside of convention. Though her loyalty to the earth is unquestionable, she is somewhat of a renegade, and always has been,” Robyn said.

“And you are not, Robyn? You must understand her well then,” Davmiran said with a smile.

“Yes, I suppose many have thought of me so. But not in the same way as Sidra.”

“Sidra? I am unfamiliar with the name. But that is no surprise. There is so little that I remember.”

“Most people are unfamiliar with that name, Dav. I highly doubt that even if you regained your past, any knowledge of her would have been a part of it. She has remained quite reclusive. But, her power rivals that of any Chosen I have ever known.”

“She is not bonded?” Dav asked.

“No. She declined when the offer was made many tiels ago.”

“Declined? How unusual,” the boy said contemplatively.

“No one had ever declined a request like that before. And no one has since. Sidra is different,” he said, with a definite fondness in his voice. “She claimed that she was unable to bond with the Lalas who chose her because they were too different. It caused quite a stir at the time,” he recalled with a smile.

“You obviously admire her,” Davmiran commented. “You knew her well? Was it her rebelliousness or is there more about her that you are not telling me?”

“You are quite intuitive for one so young, you know? Either that or I have lost my ability to conceal my inner feelings,” Robyn said, and he grinned at the boy. “Oh, yes, there is much more about her that I am not telling you. And, I do not intend to tell you, young man,” he smiled again. “But I did admire her strength of character. It was not easy to deny the tree.”

“How is it that you are so familiar with her?” Davmiran asked, with a suspicious look in his big, blue eyes. “Which Lalas was it whom she denied?”

“How did you guess?” Robyn asked. “I really have become that easy to read?”

“No. It was not a guess. I carry the shards, remember? Images come to me all the time,” he said. “Was it difficult for you in the beginning knowing that you were not Promanthea’s first choice?” he asked bluntly.

“No. Actually, I was surprised when Sidra declined him. But I was overjoyed at the same time. It was my good fortune. How could I have been disappointed? I never really thought of myself as a second choice, but rather just another choice,” he said.

“I suppose,” the boy replied, unconvinced. “Did you ever discuss it with him?” Davmiran asked.

“My feelings about Sidra? No. I found no reason to. But he harbored a bitterness for her that I felt for quite some time,” Robyn recalled. “Perhaps bitterness is the wrong word to describe his emotions, but he was hurt by the rejection in a very human way,” Robyn said, as he remembered those days from long ago. “It was not his pride that bothered him. Rather, I think that he felt that he had lost a great opportunity, and he regretted it profoundly, therefore his thoughts about her were negative. I sensed that he wanted to bond with her for other reasons as well. She knows things – things she does not share with anyone.” Robyn frowned. “I was bonded shortly thereafter, and the beginning of our relationship was the only time I can recall when Promanthea concealed things from me,” he explained, though his voice had suddenly become strained. “Sidra left Tamarand and never returned again. She moved up north near Eleutheria and lived a totally reclusive life. I have been told that she still resides in the hills somewhat near the city, though no one I know has actually seen her in countless tiels. One thing I can be certain of is that she must now be at least as formidable a woman as she was a maiden.”

“What is the source of her power?” the boy asked.

“It is uncertain. She is not of the council, though I know that Premoran and Calista had conferred with her in the past, as had the others over time,” Robyn explained. “I think that they all realized later that what she did was for the best. She just could not be bonded to a tree. Though her power is of the earth, it is different than any other I have experienced.”

“Was she from Tamarand originally? Has she family there still?”

“No, to both questions. She was from Odelot, and she came to Tamarand alone after her own city’s demise. She hid her bitterness toward Colton well from most people, but not from me. I sensed her pain as well as her immense hatred. But her hate was not confined to him. She never spoke of her losses, but they must have been great,” Robyn related.

“And you think that she is capable of creating this?” Davmiran asked, referring to the shield.

“I know that she is. I just do not know why she would intervene now when she has never done so in the past,” he said.

“The times have changed. Calista is gone. Premoran is a captive in Sedahar. The trees themselves are dying. When else would one of power make a stand?” Dav asked.

“True. Very true” Robyn contemplated. “This shield certainly has her mark upon it. It is as unconventional as she is,” he smiled.

“Do you think that she knows something that would cause her to assist us now in such a manner?”

“That we are imperiled in some way? That without her help something terrible would happen to us,” he replied, looking deeply into Davmiran’s blue eyes. “That the danger is so grave that it requires her attention and assistance? Nothing short of that would have motivated her to act I fear, so I venture to guess that she does. She has lived apart for a long time.”

“Is this what you believe?” Davmiran asked again.

“If it is in fact she who has done this, she is buying us some time, Dav, time that we would not have had without her intervention. We must utilize it well. We may not have another opportunity to work and learn in such safety,” he answered gravely. “Sidra would not get involved unless she felt it was totally necessary. At least not in such an obvious manner. Though her enmity for the Dark Lord was beyond measure those many tiels ago, it never prompted her to intervene before. She has left these things to the trees and the Chosen.”

“Speaking of the Lalas, Robyn, have you communicated with Promanthea recently?” Davmiran asked, as if this question followed naturally after the others.

“I have not had the opportunity,” he replied, and he looked away from the boy.

“Oh. I see,” he said, though it was clear by his tone of voice that he did not believe Robyn’s words for a minute. “We have been quite busy of late,” Davmiran commented, seeking to ease the sudden tension that filled the air.

“Some other time perhaps, we can discuss this in more detail, Dav,” he then said, knowing that it was unfair of him to expect the boy to settle for such an obviously false explanation. “There are some things I need to sort out first,” he replied defensively.

“You seem reluctant about it. Is that normal for a Chosen?” he asked.

“Reluctant to talk about this subject or to commune with Promanthea?” he asked, but he did not wait for an answer. “What is normal today, Dav?” Robyn replied earnestly. “To be honest, the last time Promanthea and I spoke, I felt as if he was keeping something from me, and it disturbed me so much that I have avoided him since,” Robyn confessed. “I had that feeling only once before with him as I just told you, and he was so totally unwilling to discuss his behavior then that there was no point in me continuing to ask him about it. This time as well, he made it clear to me that it was not a subject that he wished to address.”