Under the Shadow of Darkness: Book 1 of the Apprentice Series (21 page)

“Push! Push, Kerlith!”

Kerlith screamed as he both drew energy from Bel and pushed on the giant rock. The boulder turned a little, then a little more as Kerlith gained control of it. It rolled to the side, landed on the ground and continued to roll. Bel helped a panting Kerlith to free his legs from the earth and Nes’egrinon walked toward the large stone and tapped it with his stick. The boulder continued to roll then picked up speed, rolling toward the warriors. In a panic they leapt out of the way. The boulder sailed into the breach and disappeared.

Rylithnon chuckled, “So, the great defender of what is normal and right, the mage of the wood uses stone magic once again?”

“My hand never left my staff,” replied Nes’egrinon in a growl.

“I see. I see. Hahahaha.” The dead wizard looked hysterical, one moment laughing uncontrollably then the next pensive. “Maybe that is what I have been missing? You are a wood mage so your hands never leave your staff of mage-wood, yet you control the stone. I must need to channel my magic through stones?”

Bel finally pulled Kerlith from the ground but Kerlith’s feet, legs and ankles were severely gashed and bleeding.

“What you need to do is either help close this breach or step out of the way and let me do it.” The old wizard was visibly exhausted. Bel hoped his master had an idea of how to close the rift.

“Help? You?” Rylithnon gulped more blood then laughed again. He pointed his left arm at the sky and his right at the wizard then opened his mouth wide. He looked wild-eyed and hungry, as if with his mouth open he could somehow swallow all men, all birds, all beasts and all life, rapaciously, ravenously, as if he could suck away all the air and swallow the very earth in one voracious bite. A deep guttural sound emerged and slowly reached Bel and the band, reverberating through them. A dark swirling cloud appeared above Rylithnon. No one would have been able to detect it in the black sky except that in the cloud were all manner of lightning. Thunder roared. In the utter darkness of the valley the bolts of light were such a shock that even though the living sheltered their eyes they were momentarily blinded. Many of the dead ran for fear.

A strong gale force blew and they fought to not be blown from their feet. Rylithnon tried to speak, tried to taunt them again but the wind was deafening. They could not hear a word he said. The naked men with spears, the dead warriors from a long past day ran back to the breach and disappeared. Rylithnon screamed at them, apparently cursing their cowardice, but no one could hear his words.

Nes’egrinon pointed for the others to get far behind him as he held his staff in front of him. Just as the three got behind a few large boulders and an outcropping of dirt, a bolt of electricity streamed down through the sky, erupting from the large cloud, lighting up the sky and striking Rylithnon’s outstretched arm. The dead wizard shone bright white; the voltage permeated his body and then extended out from his arm that was pointed at Nes’egrinon all the while. Large flakes of skin popped off Rylithnon’s face and arms as the energy flowed through him and out his arm toward the mage of the forest. Light burst from the flesh underneath. The bolt struck Nes’egrinon’s outstretched staff, it glowing blue as the energy filled it then slowly crept into the wizard’s hand then his arm then his body. He gasped loudly, “Aaaaahhhh!” but no one could hear it for the resounding boom of the electricity was ear splitting.

There was a final flash of light then utter darkness. No one could see for the impulse had blinded them all. They sat silent and waiting as their eyes adjusted. Bel only hoped that his eyes would adjust before the ghoul-kind. He blinked and squinted then blinked and squinted and finally he could barely make out his hand just inches from his face, but it was enough. He stood and peered over the boulder to see a fuzzy image. He tried to piece together what he was seeing. It appeared to be his master, lying on the earth, wisps of steam emanating from his body, his clothing singed and burnt and Rylithnon standing over him.
But that couldn’t be right.
Bel stood and walked toward them, not able to make mental sense of the images that his eyes were showing him.

“Come! Come! Come and see, young Bel!” Rylithnon said as he motioned with his hand. “See. See. I have you to thank for this! Look! The great Nes’egrinon, defeated and lying at my feet.” Rylithnon’s skin was mostly torn from his face revealing sinewy muscle and tendon and cartilage and the fullness of his eyes sockets. None of the exposed muscle was red or even light pink like Bel thought it would have been; it was the gray of long over-boiled meat. He looked monstrous. And he smelled none too nice.

Bel’s voice shook. “You don’t have me to thank. I had no part in this.”

The wizard noticed another piece of flesh hanging from his hand so he shook it off. “As you wish. But still you are here and your eyes will see it. My glory. My ascension.” The dead wizard stretched out his arms and began to slowly float up. He tilted back his head to the sky and twelve stones, each about the size of a man’s head, formed a circle around him from head to foot. The stones began to rotate.

Bel ignored the dead wizard’s gloating and slowly walked back to his position behind the boulders to gather with Alexius and Kerlith. “We have to do something.”

“Aye. But what can we three do against one such as this?” Alexius replied.

Kerlith mumbled, “We have to do something. We have to try.”

The spell of protection began to fade and the three knew that Nes’egrinon was unconscious. Or dead.

The three stood as the stones continued to circle the elevated wizard, lightning alternately striking a stone or two. Bel thought,
This must be how he did it before. This must be it, the spell that ripped open the breach, the spell he cast to unite all magic, the one spell. He’s going to try it again and we are all going to die.
They walked to below where he floated. The remaining warriors screamed when they saw them there and charged them. Alexius parried, blocked, swung his sword and spun, fighting against several of the red haired warriors with broad chests and long boots, wearing the traditional green plaid of the highlands.

Bel screamed, “” sending one dead warrior after another flying off into the sky, landing several hundred paces away, some flying further, off onto the mountain. Kerlith pushed the purple haze of love magic at fur covered warrior after warrior sending them screaming in fear but he was getting weaker. They all were. He would have loved to send out on large puff of love, like they had done previously, but that would take just too much energy and they had so little to spare.

Bel and Kerlith ran to Alexius’ aid after they dispatched the dead they were fighting. Bel pushed life-force into his staff and used it as a club to smack a highlander back into the breach. Kerlith sent stones flying, pelting the warriors until they ran.

After the dead warriors were gone Alexius rubbed a gash on his forearm and said, “I am sorry that I am not of much use to you two.”

Bel and Kerlith ignored the comment and looked down at Nes’egrinon’s smoldering body. They looked at each other with a mixture of defeat and resignation in their eyes, as if their fate was a foregone conclusion. Bel said, “Can you do anything?”

Kerlith replied, “I doubt it. But I must try.”

“Then we will do it together.” Bel stood next to Kerlith and grabbed his hand, them both facing the floating Rylithnon.

Alexius stood behind them. “I cannot do much to help you but I will give you my energy. My… my life-force, I will give it to you. Just do what you can.” He placed his hands on the two boys’ backs and looked down at the ground, squeezing his eyes shut hard. Bel knew what it meant. He knew he had drained Kephas earlier and he bristled at the idea of draining Alexius but he didn’t argue. He accepted the gift. They would all be dead soon anyway.

Kerlith began chanting words in the stone language, the old words only known by the stone-mages of the east, passed down century after century from master to apprentice in an oral tradition that went back to the dawn of time itself. Bel had no idea what he was saying so he began speaking words in the forest language, trying to disrupt the rotation of stone after rapidly circling stone, trying to shift them out of orbit, to somehow weaken Rylithnon’s spell or at least distract him from what he was doing so that Kerlith might have more of a chance. He sent out a breeze, a spell of forest magic, wind from the trees. A stone wobbled. Then another. But each time they immediately swung back on track. Sometimes even accelerating. Rylithnon ignored them as if they weren’t even there. Bel wanted to send a stiff breeze, even a gust to knock the dead mage back but he knew something like that would take too much energy. It would kill Alexius and what would it accomplish?

Kerlith huffed, “Keep the wind up.”

Bel’s ears perked up and he pushed out another blast.

One rock swung a little off course and Kerlith grunted as he squeezed onyx. A rock from the ground flew up and hit the off course stone cracking it in half. One half flew away while the other crashed into Rylithnon.

The dead mage squealed, “You! I didn’t slay you so that you might witness my work. I gave you a space to breathe because of what you did at Lasaat and how you helped to open my eyes but now you will die.” The floating wizard raised his arms high, the muscle fibers on his skinless arms exposed as his sleeves slid down.

The three braced themselves but before he could send out the spell a bolt of electricity smote him, striking his chest. The three turned to see Nes’egrinon trying to stand up, using his staff for leverage.

“Master! You are not dead!” Bel ran to his side quickly then slowed. “Are you dead?”

Alexius and Kerlith joined him.

“No time for talk! We must hit him now! With everything!” Nes’egrinon bellowed.

The two young men quickly spun and pushed out magic toward Rylithnon who was still floating awkwardly in the air. Nes’egrinon swung his staff, causing lightning to strike the dead wizard again and again.

Nes’egrinon screamed, “Fight it! Fight it! Push out all of the darkness! Shine forth your light!”

Rylithnon covered his face in the crook of his elbow as he was smashed back again and again from several different directions.

Bel screamed, “I can feel it leaving now! The darkness. It leaves me!” It pushed out another blast of energy. He did not know how much more he had but as long as he could, he would fight the darkness. He knew now more than ever that the darkness’ biggest weapon was to make him feel like he couldn’t win, to try to make him give up.

Rylithnon floated toward the breach entrance and realizing where he was yelled, “No!”

Kerlith sent a stone careening at Rylithnon who swam in the air to dodge it. Bel blasted him with a gust of air and Nes’egrinon with lightning.

Nes’egrinon and Bel looked at each other momentarily somehow knowing what they each were thinking without a word or a nod. They both yelled, “” and a blinding mage-light erupted in front of them casting vibrant blue, illuminating the entire valley, even piercing the very breach itself.

Rylithnon popped out of existence, falling into the dark tear. And suddenly it was gone. The breach was gone.

Bel mumbled in disbelief, “The breach? It is gone?” Then louder, “The breach is gone.” He looked around and did not see anything moving, no person, no ghoul, not anything living or dead but only dirt and rock met his eyes outside of the band of four lonely wanderers. Then, just past the eastern mountains, a glimmer of light appeared as the sun eased above the far ridge. It was the dawn of a new day. Nes’egrinon hugged Bel then roped in Kerlith and Alexius. Bel laughed and cried and screamed, “The breach is gone!”

Bel sat and watched them as the light of the noonday sun shone brightly.

A woman gathered her rough, variegated burlap and felt clothing into a large basket, preparing to wash while two small freckled children chased each other around her knees. A man stepped out of the front door of a dilapidated shack and scratched himself. Across the street an old man with splotchy, mottled skin rocked back and forth on the rear legs of a chair, one hand on a long pipe, puffing on it slowly.

Bel looked at the children, then the woman, then the man, then finally the old man rocking.

Fluttering finch wings grabbed his attention as the tiny birds swung round, too fickle to find a place to land. The faint but distinct trap clap, trap clap, trap clap of approaching horses alerted everyone that visitors were coming and soon enough three men rode up from the path and secured their horses. They brushed the dust and grime off their thick red and green jackets and pants then entered the inn. Bel knew what called them as he could also smell it, the salty fresh scent of malt wafting throughout the town as the barkeeper’s son stirred the bitters behind the inn. The two children ran over to get a closer look at the horses. Across the way a middle aged woman set out a pie on the sill and cinnamon scent curled under Bel’s nose trying to lure him like a fisherman’s hook.

Bel could not help but marvel. It was but a few short days ago that the world was ending and there were ghoul-kind everywhere devouring flesh. Now all was as if it never happened. The resiliency of human-kind was mind boggling to Bel. There was day. There was night. And the only creatures that walked the earth were living. All was as it should be.

“Tell me what you see,” Nes’egrinon said.

The question shook Bel’s mind from its wandering. “What do you mean?”

“Just what I said. Tell me what you see.”

“I see nothing special. What I don’t see are ghouls. That’s good. They’re gone. No more ghouls. No more dead walking among the living.”

Nes’egrinon moved to stand next to Bel. “I didn’t ask you to tell me what you don’t see. I asked you to tell me what you see.”

“Nothing special. I don’t know what you are looking for.” Bel paused and looked up at the old man.

The wizard looked down and squinted his dissatisfaction.

Bel looked back out at the small village center and continued, “I see an old man leaning on the edge of his chair. He’s smoking something. A small family here. They are attending to routine things. I see children playing. A mother readying her clothing to wash. There’s an inn there and people are going in and out, travelers and such. Not much. Just everyday life. Normal stuff.”