by Randy Nargi
“By the gods!” Eton Sward said. “The poor bastard. I mentioned the wards. Didn’t I mention the wards?”
“That wasn’t a ward,” Valthar said. “It was a mechanical trap. I’m just surprised that it worked after all these years.”
“I’m not,” Bander said. He took a deep breath. “What do we want to do now?”
“Press on, of course,” Valthar said.
“Agreed,” Talessa Kreed said quietly. “Fenrue knew the risks.”
“Did he, now?” Eton Sward said.
Talessa Kreed didn’t answer.
“We should retrieve his body,” Bander said.
Eton Sward nodded. “I can levitate it up.”
He did so, and Talessa Kreed grimly stripped Fenrue’s body of anything useful. She handed his curved blade to Bander.
“Congratulations. You’ve been promoted to my bodyguard.”
It took them over an hour to check the entirety of the mud-covered floor for more traps. They found—and triggered—two more pit traps. One of the traps had an ancient-looking skeleton at the bottom.
The hallway itself ran a hundred feet from east to west and ended in a pair of tall double doors made of solid iron—which were either locked or rusted shut. Cast into each of the doors was a stylized design of a tree.
The walls had bare alcoves, and several statue bases, torch holders, and tapestry hooks, but no murals. There was also no sign of any rails in the floor—at least in the areas Bander dug into.
“This isn’t the Nave of Time,” Valthar muttered.
“I wonder if we are in the wrong place completely,” Bander said.
“Why do you say that?” Talessa Kreed asked.
“In the other temple, the Nave of Time was fairly close to the ambulatory. We’re a good hundred feet away.”
Eton Sward shook his head. “All the temples are different in that regard. In the Temple of Curses we had to transverse a maze of tunnels before we reached the Nave. In Ages, it was a bit closer, but still a good fifty feet or so. And, as you say, the Nave in Dreams was quite close to the east end of the structure. In fact, the farther south a temple is situated, the farther the Nave is from the main part of the structure.”
Valthar looked surprised. “I hadn’t known that, Sward. What else are you keeping from us?”
“If you bothered to study with a bit more rigor—”
Bander cut him off. “So you believe it is worthwhile to continue?”
“I do,” both Eton Sward and Valthar said in unison.
“Very well.”
“The Nave of Time is here,” Valthar said. “I feel it.”
“And what is this Nave of Time that we’re looking for?” Talessa Kreed asked.
“His idea of the Nave may very well be a myth,” Eton Sward said.
“It’s not,” Valthar said, matter-of-factly. “It is most certainly not a myth. As my father said, ‘if you are not ready to find the exceptional, you’ll never discover it.’ Mark those words.”
Talessa Kreed moved closer to him. “Then tell me, sir. What is exceptional about this Nave?”
Valthar sighed and said, “It is a way to move through time.”
Talessa Kreed considered for several moments and then asked, “By magic?”
“Of course by magic, giglet!” Valthar huffed. “Would there be any other way?”
Valthar went on to tell her what he knew about the temples and the aonae, but didn’t mention that he himself was from another time. Bander wasn’t sure that it was wise to confide in Talessa Kreed, but he guessed that Valthar didn’t care. His friend believed he was close to leaving this world. Forever.
Chapter Thirty-One
Bander stood in front of the pair of double doors at the far end of the hallway. After testing them for lightning traps, he grabbed one of the door handles, braced himself, and pulled with all his might. Bander didn’t quite generate the force of a team of horses, but his strength was considerable.
But the door didn’t budge.
Not an inch.
“Locked,” he announced.
“Or magically held perhaps,” Talessa Kreed offered.
“No,” Eton Sward said. “I don’t detect anything. This must be mechanical.”
“If it’s mechanical, we have a chance of getting it open,” Bander said.
He squatted down in the mud and used Fenrue’s sword to probe underneath the doors. The blade didn’t get very far. There was a hard surface right on the other side of the door. Bander dragged the blade to one side. It was as if the sword was scraping against a large brick. He repeated the test all along the twenty foot length of the door with the same result.
“Something is blocking the door.”
“You are indeed a genius, my friend,” Valthar scoffed. “A genius of the obvious!”
“Another cave-in?” Eton Sward asked.
“I don’t think so. Feels like stone. Very even.”
“That makes no sense,” Valthar said.
“It does if the doors are false.”
“Wonderful,” Eton Sward said. “Just wonderful.”
“That simply means that there is a hidden door,” Valthar said. “Somewhere.”
They spent the next hour searching, prodding along every wall, every alcove. They tugged at torch holders and any protruding bit of masonry. They even banged along the stone ceiling using their spear and poles. By this time they were all exhausted. They had been in this chamber for over three hours.
“I propose we return up top,” Eton Sward said. “Warm up around a fire. Rest the old bones.”
Valthar said, “We’re not giving up, you corpulent old coot! Not even for five minutes.” He stormed away to check another part of the wall.
“Well, my light spell isn’t going to last forever,” Eton Sward muttered.
Something caught Bander’s eye. It was a dark section of the wall, towards the bottom. As he moved closer, he saw that it was a water stain. Probably from when the passage last flooded. All the mud and silt. But the thing that really caught his attention was the fact that the water line wasn’t level. It tilted slightly to one side.
“I’m going to stoneflow the opening again,” Eton Sward said. “We need all the fresh air we can get.”
“Good idea,” Valthar said.
Bander brought the torch closer to the wall and examined the water line, following the anomaly along the wall. It ran for twenty feet or so, from the edge of one of the statue bases to the doors.
Then he crossed the hall and checked the same section on the opposite wall. It was straight and level.
Strange.
He turned back to the wall with the uneven water stain and started digging in the mud. A few minutes later he was rewarded.
“A gap,” he announced. “In the floor!”
The rest of the group made their way over as Bander continued digging through the mud. The gap ran parallel to the wall, five feet away. It stretched from the corner of the statue base all the way to the door.
“This section of floor moves,” Bander said. “We need to find the trigger. But don’t step on the floor section. The trigger will be somewhere else.”
“How did you—?” Talessa Kreed asked.
Bander pointed to the water stain. “Slightly tilted. Just in this section.”
Valthar’s eyes lit up. “I see it now. This whole floor section tilts.”
Bander nodded. That what he had been thinking.
They redoubled their efforts to find a switch and after several minutes, Bander located something at the bottom of the statue base. It was a loose section of stone that he was able to pry out using Talessa Kreed’s dagger. There in a depression was a metal handle. Bander tapped it with the dagger and held the torch close. It didn’t appear to be trapped.
“Stand back everyone!”
He pulled the handle—which moved surprisingly easily. A great grinding sound echoed throughout the hall and the floor rumbled. Then the section of floor against the wall piv
oted forward, splashing mud and water. The far end dipped down about five feet and the closer end raised up. Then there was a loud clank as the mechanism locked.
“Remarkable!” Eton Sward exclaimed.
Valthar shrugged. “Typical pivot passage. I’m surprised it took you this long to find it, Bander.”
“I don’t have the skills of a thief.”
“Bah, stop making excuses. You’re just getting old.”
Talessa Kreed climbed to the top of the statue base and peered down at the muddy sloped walkway which led beneath the door. “That looks rather steep. Especially with all that mud.”
“Indeed,” Bander said. “It very well may be another trap. That’s why I’m going down this way.” He motioned to the opening closest to the door. It was a simple matter to sit down on the ledge and prod below with the spear. Once he was satisfied, Bander slid down into the tunnel.
“Hand me a torch. Or better yet, cast light on the end of this.”
He poked the spear up so that Eton Sward could cast the spell on its tip. Then, with the spear magically illuminated, Bander inspected the passage.
It was a small five foot square tunnel that ran east directly under the double doors for a dozen feet. At the far end of the tunnel a narrow staircase led up.
“This is the way!” Bander called.
After he checked the passage for traps, he signaled for the rest of the group to climb down and they all made their way through the tunnel and up the stairs.
They emerged into a cavernous room filled with large trees.
“Dynark’s Blood!” Eton Sward exclaimed.
Bander took a few steps closer. The trees weren’t real trees. They were statues, carved out of stone, and incredibly lifelike. And there was an entire forest of them, tightly packed together, extending as far as their torches could illuminate. Greyish moss grew on the branches and hung down like spider webs.
“I know these!” Eton Sward exclaimed. He held a torch close to the trunk of one of the trees. “See this?”
“A bug?” Talessa Kreed asked.
It did look like a bug—etched into the bark of the tree.
“A butterfly!” Eton Sward said. “This is from The Wood of Enlightenment.”
“What?” Valthar asked.
“It’s an old illuminated manuscript from the fourth century. Tells of an underground forest. The scholars always placed it somewhere in the north, but…” He trailed off. “Did you see that?”
They all turned to where Eton Sward was looking.
“Cover the torches,” he said.
Bander tucked the illuminated spear tip under his cape and withdrew his sword.
“I don’t see a blessed thing,” Talessa Kreed said.
“A light,” Eton Sward said. “Faint.”
“I see it,” Valthar said.
Bander now saw it too. Somewhere deep within the stone forest, something glowed.
The mage stepped forward, muttering something to himself.
“Sward!” Bander called. He didn’t like the idea of the man wandering off.
“It’s fine, I’ll be caref—”
Without warning, the trees came alive.
Stoney branches shot out and encircled Bander. He fought against the constriction, but to no avail. Within moments he was being dragged into the heart of the underground forest. And not him alone. The trees had caught Talessa Kreed as well—her screams sounding in his ear. No doubt Valthar and Eton Sward were meeting the same fate.
And then he was falling into the darkness, tumbling over and over. His body struck something hard and then something else hard, but he continued to fall. Then nothingness.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Bander was half asleep in the back of a wagon. A hay wagon. Bouncing along a country road.
Even as he experienced the reverie, he realized that it was a dream—one he had dreamt before.
His ten-year-old self was completely relaxed and at peace with the world. Through half-closed eyes he could glimpse a bright full moon hanging over the hills of Dalchester. The air was warm and the slight breeze felt good.
The clopping of the horses drowned out most of his parents hushed conversation, but he could tell that they were talking about him. He strained to make out their words, but couldn’t.
He never could. In all the times he had dreamt of this wagon ride, he was never able to understand what his parents were saying.
Eventually the swaying of the wagon lulled him back to sleep.
He tried to open his eyes, but one was crusted in blood. His shoulder hurt and his left kneecap felt like it had been ripped off. There was also a weight pressing on his chest. Not a heavy weight—like a stone block. But a much more manageable weight. He lifted his head and felt the weight upon him stir. It was Talessa Kreed.
“What happened…?” she murmured.
“I have no idea,” he said.
She didn’t move for several minutes, and Bander wasn’t about to kick her off his chest. That was never a polite thing to do to a beautiful woman. But eventually she realized her position and rolled off him with a demure, “Sorry.”
“Not a problem.”
“I have to say, you make a splendid shield. I am quite undamaged.”
“I wish I could say the same for myself.”
Although, in truth, he had been in worse shape. He rubbed the dried blood from his eye and felt at his scalp. The wound didn’t seem bad. No more than a scrape. But his shoulder and knee hurt like Dishlad’s nut.
He blinked and looked around. It was pitch black, but one of the magical torches lay nearby. From its light Bander could see that they were in some sort of narrow chasm with steep stone walls.
As she stood up, Talessa Kreed staggered unsteadily.
“Are you hurt?” he asked.
“The ground—” Her arms shot out as she tried to balance herself.
Bander lurched to his feet and felt the same thing she must have. The earth was soft and yielding. Like flesh.
“What is this?” she cried.
He caught her in his arms and helped her to a small rocky outcropping at the base of the cliff that loomed up over their heads.
“Let’s just stay here,” he said. “This rock is stable enough.”
Talessa Kreed nodded.
Bander examined himself. He was a little wobbly, but nothing seemed to be broken.
“Valthar! Sward!” he called.
There was no response.
“Do you see them?”
“No,” Talessa Kreed said.
“Stay here,” he said. “I’m getting that torch.”
He took a few steps on the soft ground. It was very strange. It felt like mud or a swamp, but there was no water. But with a little practice, he found that he was able to walk on the unusual surface—as long as he moved slowly.
Holding the torch high, Bander could see that they were some place enclosed by sheer rock walls that stretched up far over his head into the darkness.
“There, to your left!” Talessa Kreed cried. “It might be them.”
Bander limped over to where she pointed. There crumpled on the ground were the bodies of Valthar and Eton Sward. The mage was clearly dead, his neck broken from the fall, and his eyes open and bulging. Valthar had a serious gash on his head which oozed blood, but he appeared to be alive. Barely.
Talessa Kreed unsteadily made her way over to them. “Dynark’s blood! What happened?”
“They weren’t as lucky as we were. Especially Sward.”
Bander felt a stab of remorse about the mage’s death. He should have physically restrained Sward from getting too close to the trees. But he didn’t think that the mage would have been so foolish—especially after what had happened to Fenrue.
But now he had to concentrate on Valthar. His friend was in bad shape. Very bad shape.
Ripping his shirt to use as bandages, Bander quickly bound Valthar’s head wound and tried to wake him. But Valthar remained in a half-dead stupor.
>
“You don’t know any healing, do you?”
“Not a bit,” Talessa Kreed said. “Not one of my skills, I’m afraid.”
“Me neither. We need to get him out of here.”
“But how? I can’t even see to the top of these walls.”
“Stay with him. Keep pressure on the wound. I’ll look around.”
It didn’t take long for Bander to get a good sense of their surroundings. They were at the bottom of a large ring-shaped chasm with tall vertical stone walls on every side. The floor of the chasm was a hundred and fifty paces around and every step he took was on the unnaturally soft ground. In the center of the ring stood a narrow stone spire, a dozen feet thick—almost like a natural pillar. Something at the top of the spire glowed faintly—and that glow was at least twenty-five feet above Bander’s head. Probably more. He couldn’t make out what it was, but it must be magical.
The stone walls appeared to be natural and were nearly vertical. In some places they bowed outward a bit. Impossible to climb for most people—including him. He didn’t see any caves or passages or doors in the walls, although he would have to look closer. Likewise, the floor of the chasm was barren except for some small rocks and debris which had likely fallen from the cliffs over the years. Nearly all the ground was soft and fleshy except for a few rocky outcroppings along the perimeter.
Bander recovered Fenrue’s sword and the remaining torches. There was no sign of the spear or the two poles. Maybe they had been caught up in the trees. Or maybe he just missed them. He saw the rope and some smaller items still scattered around the far side of the chasm.
Bander brought everything over to Talessa Kreed and said, “I don’t know how much longer this light spell will last.”
She looked down at Valthar. “He’s dying, I’m afraid.”
Bander squatted down next to his friend and checked his pulse. Very weak. And his breathing was barely noticeable.
“Come on, Valthar,” he whispered. “You’ve seen worse.” But he wasn’t sure that was actually true.
“What will you do if he doesn’t make it? Your employer, I mean?”