Chapter 2
The third sun was brushing the eastern hills, setting the sky above him alight with a fiery glow. Mach woke laying in a deep bush. He looked up at the darkening sky. Not long now, he thought dazedly not long until it is dark.
Confused and a little dizzy, he started to sit up but his strength failed him and he fell backwards. He could not think of why he was out here at the base of the mountain that led to the city of Madtu, just outside the safety of the walls of Selane. Laying hidden in bushes, all he could remember at first was the merchants were supposed to have been there that morning and that he was going to make his decision on when he was going to leave his mother…stopping in mid-thought he remembered and it came back to him in a flash of memories.
His head pounded violently as pain shot through his body. Mother where are you? He thought in panic. He dared not call to her aloud. If the people that attacked his home were still around, they would surely find him. He thought he saw someone moving as he sat up and scanned the land above and below him.
He gently patted himself down looking for cuts or broken bones when he felt the vest that George had given him over his shirt. Gods, I hope George is OK, Mach thought as he untied and re-tied his sword to his waist. He had been in the woods a lot in recent years, taking items and goods to the mountain village of Madtu and back again. Therefore, he knew the trek could be dangerous, especially at night. However, he also knew how to get up there without the local animals noticing him. He kept low to the ground as he half-crawled half ran from his bush while keeping an eye out for anyone, but most especially for any signs of golden hair lost in the brush.
Mother where are you, he thought savagely. He remembered with hope that he had told her where George had said to flee. It was possible she woke before him and not seeing him hidden in the bushes, continued on thinking that he had moved up hill. At least he hoped that was the case. He prayed that she had started up the mountain already. Hopefully he would catch up to her before she got too far.
He could hear men somewhere off toward the village. It sounded like they were searching for something, or someone. So with what remained of his strength, he cautiously started out toward the path up the hill, staying as low to the ground as he could. He knew that there might be people around that he did not want to meet.
He stayed off any paths and crept through the weeds and bushes. It was now nearing full night when he crossed the main road that led up the hill. Hurrying his steps, just in case he was being followed, Mach moved quickly and as stealthily as he could through the brush. Hoping to outrun what may be behind him and catch up to some of the villagers further up the hill. Mach knew he could survive the forest, but it would be so much easier if he were in a large group.
It was about mid-night when Mach came across a clearing that he frequently rested at on his way to and from town. There were large fig and apple trees surrounding the clearing. He knew he was just an hour or two away from Madtu.
He also knew he could not make it. He was so exhausted his eyes were closing on him even as he thought to continue. He sat down on the ground and leaned against a tree, hoping he was in a good enough spot that he would not be spotted if anyone, or anything, came looking. He closed his eyes and was lost to sleep a moment later.
He dreamt of that day and all that had taken place. The morning had been full of fear, but it also excited him in a way he had not expected. At least not since he got caught outside the village at night and was chased for hours by a mountain lion.
The dream changed.
He was facing down a pack of young wolves. He just stood there with his dagger in hand, daring them to make a move, taunting them into attacking. Threatening them with his tiny dagger. There were only three of them, all he had to do was take out one and the other two would flee. After what seemed to him like hours the wolves turned away to find an easier meal.
He had been so scared then but there was something thrilling about it all. It took all his will power not to tell his mother about that trip. He could not tell anyone really, because it would have been bound to reach her ears. If it had, he would no longer have been allowed to go out of the house much less to Madtu.
Then his dream changed again.
He was standing in a field, but he could only see a few yards in any direction. Smoke swirled all around him as he looked for something. His sword was clenched tightly in his hands from anger. Not the one he had as a kid, the one given to him by his father, and not the one that had been the gift from George.
This one was red-silver, with black markings all up and down the blade. It was extremely light and he knew it was sharp enough to slice through a skull with ease. It was a long sword, the end of the hilt came to his chest when the tip was at the floor. He knew there to be something magical about it. Tiny stones embedded on the hilt glowed faintly, he could actually feel power from it...
Then he heard a laugh, a deep and penetrating laughter. “You think you can take me on boy!” The laughing voice said from beyond a thick fog that had suddenly formed. “You don’t have a chance”
“I will stop you,” he heard himself say, anger and courage mixing within to give him more strength than he really had. “If not for my own purposes, than just to stop you from hurting anyone else!”
As the laughter began again, cold and chilling, it faded away and Mach woke to an odd sound. He quickly realized he was no longer alone.
He did not move at first, but merely looked around without moving his head. It was almost dawn, he could tell because the night was lifting and the grey predawn was above him. He looked around him and saw nothing out of the ordinary.
Footsteps came from behind the tree he was leaning against, slow, light and deliberate. Thinking that he had been followed, he froze completely. The footsteps began to walk away. Deciding he would chance a peek, he peered out from behind the tree and saw, to his amazement, that it was a young Gargoyle. A boy younger then Mach by several years. One of the Gargoyle race that had lived in Madtu for longer than Mach’s family had been in Selane.
They kept themselves to themselves and never ventured out far from their homes except to hunt. He could tell right way this was a youngling, at only five feet tall it had to be young. Their peoples were far taller than Humans. Its grayish tan skin was as dull as the tree bark and dirt around him. Long, black hair hung in a tail down his back. His wings were another give away about his age.
An adult Gargoyle had a span of at least double his or her height. This youngling had shortened wings only equal to his own height.
The young Gargoyle had a spear in his hands. He crept slowly throughout the clearing searching the ground and glancing at the bushes for something. He was out hunting, but hunting for what Mach could only guess.
Unless someone asked a scout to be sent for stragglers, it was unlikely this youngling was here for him.
It was about that time that he saw movement out of the corner of his eye, also slow and deliberate. He abruptly realized the youngling was not the one hunting, but the one being hunted.
Mach slowly unsheathed his blade and peered out through the bushes at the moving creature, watching to see what it was. The creature moved again, slowly and with that small movement it came within view between two bushes. His heart almost froze at the sight.
It was a chimera. A creature of mixed species, the chimera was a hybrid of a long forgotten past. They could be made an infinite number of ways, this one was noticeably that of a lion. The head, upper body and front legs and claws were lion-like, melding into a dragonish rear end, all the way down to its tail. It was massive by normal animal standards, probably three feet high and thrice that in length. If he remembered his studies correctly, this thing was still young. Those things could grow to be ten feet high. Rare to see, but even rarer in this part of the world.
This youngling can’t handle this thing by himself, he thought fearfully, neither can I, truth be told, but I can’t just sit here and do noth
ing. Quietly he moved himself into a position to strike and waited for the right moment to reveal himself. Perhaps he could surprise the thing and get the advantage.
In what seemed to take hours, the chimera had moved itself into position. The whole time the young Gargoyle was looking for 'his prey', still not knowing that he was actually the prey in this hunt. Mach inched forward, closer to where the youngling was standing, waiting for the chimera’s move. The moment he looked to see where the beast was sitting among the brush, it lunged.
Practically flying through the air, the chimera leapt out of the bush and went straight for the youngling. Its sudden movement forced Mach into action and he leapt from his own hiding spot. The sudden appearance of another creature seemed to have startled the beast.
But surprisingly not the youngling.
With the moment of distraction available, the youngling struck with his spear impaling the chimera in the chest, possibly deep enough to pierce the heart.
The beast, thoroughly confused and in what must be excruciating amounts of pain, roared in anger. Mach took his own chance as the chimera turned its eyes to the youngling and sliced at the beast’s neck, only managing to cut the mane of its head. No damage, but it distracted it enough that the youngling, who Mach had now figured was not just any young Gargoyle, struck again this time just behind the left shoulder blade.
Not knowing which way to turn the beast lunged at Mach swiping with its massive claws. With what felt like a bone-crunching hit, he was thrown back into a tree at least twenty feet away and fell half dazed to the ground. Without missing a beat, the chimera lunged again for him. Time seemed to slow as he watched the thing come at him, teeth and claws ready to kill.
The beast was but a yard away when something huge flew down from the sky and smashed into it. A massive cloud of dust and debris flew everywhere, and Mach barely caught a glimpse of the chimera tumbling into the brush. He heard the roar of the beast and the sounds of its massive feet running away.
He was still dazed as he watched the thing that saved him move toward him through the dust. Mach could tell that this thing was huge, much bigger than that chimera had been. He waited for the worst. To be struck down by the bigger beast, but instead...
“You are one gutsy human.” came a scratchy deep voice from somewhere above him. Just as Mach was about to focus on the thing in front of him, he was lifted off the ground in what seemed no effort at all.
“You are one gutsy human that is for sure.” The voice said again.
Mach, standing on his own strength now, looked up and saw that it was an adult Gargoyle standing in front of him, almost a mirror image of the younger one. Well over ten feet tall, its wings wrapped around his shoulder like a cloak. His skin was a dull grey like light storm clouds in the early morning.
“Thanks” he said, his mind still a little sluggish.
“What were you thinking, taking on a beast like that?”
“It was going for the kid.” Mach answered, pointing at the young Gargoyle.
“I knew it was there!” the youngling said indignantly. He sounded much like the older one but with a slightly higher pitch to his voice.
“Well I did not know you knew where it was, so when it attacked I just reacted. All right! I thought it was going to catch you by surprise.” He said with his anger rising.
“What are you doing out here this early anyways, young one?” the adult asked him. “Most of your people don't come this way until much later in the day.”
“I fell asleep over in the bush. I passed out around mid-night” Mach answered as the memories of the last day came to him.
“I have seen you around the village before. You are from the port down east, right?” the adult asked, his eyes cast in the direction of Selane.
“Yea I am, well what is left of it anyways.” Mach said mournfully glancing in the direction of Selane. The smoke was not visible through the trees. Quickly he told the Gargoyle what had befallen his hometown, from when he woke that morning to him waking up to the chimeras attack.
A few moments passed in which the Gargoyle thought, and in which Mach studied him. The Gargoyle had a normal look for one of his race. They were closely human, that much Mach knew. At some point, so legend says, Gargoyles had been human. He did not know if he believed that or not, but there was enough closeness in the two races for it to be possible.
This Gargoyle was plain faced, with no hair other than that on his head, dark brown eyes that seemed to stare deep into a person’s mind. He was very tall for anyone used to being around regular Humans. Broad shouldered enough to be able to support the wings that held them aloft with their massive bodies. Like the youngling, he carried a spear strapped to his back. But there was something different about him.
This Gargoyle’s face was covered in scars and Mach realized that like most of his race, the Gargoyle was wearing nothing but a pair of long pants made out of some kind of leather. As he looked more, he realized the Gargoyle’s whole body was covered in scars. Some even seemed freshly carved into his flesh. But there was something awfully familiar about him too.
The Gargoyle turned to face the youngling, “Curlat, go back to town and let the elder know I won’t be back for a while, than let your brethren know they need to continue your training, alright.”
“Where are you going?” The youngling named Curlat seemed terribly disappointed. Perhaps it was being trained by his brethren. Maybe it was just simply he wanted to go with him.
“Don’t worry about it. If they ask, just tell them my duties called.” The Gargoyle said, “Now go. Off with you.” In what was in an unmistakably scornful face the youngling turned and ran off toward the village of Madtu.
“You are coming with me, boy.” the other said the Gargoyle said gruffly. “What is your name anyways?” The Gargoyle said, turning away from Mach.
“Mach, Mach Derune.”
The Gargoyle turned his head sharply, an odd look came across the Gargoyle’s face. It was a look of curiosity and perhaps understanding. “The names Bastra,” the other said slowly “and we are going to the king in Eldour. He needs to hear about this and quickly. The sooner we get there, the better everyone will be. It would be best to have someone give a first-hand report. And since you are the only one to arrive here at the moment, you will have to do.”
“That's all good and everything, but I need to find my mother.” Mach said bluntly. “I need to make sure she is alright, I need to find her.”
“Don’t worry, lad. Once the elder hears your story from the boy, he will send every available scout to look for the villagers, but we need to go and we need to go now. Things could turn out very badly if the king does not hear about this soon.”
Bastra gave him one last glimpse, and Mach’s own personal preferences being ignored, he turned and started out, heading downhill. Mach looked back the way that held his home, then obediently turned and followed closely, his mind wandering over everything that had happened and hoping this Gargoyle knew what he was doing. The first sun had risen fully to the west, warming the morning and casting its glow through the treetops.
It was either luck or the fact that Mach was with such a large being, even as far as Gargoyle’s go, that their trip was uneventful. Bastra kept a steady pace the whole way, only allowing for a few quick breaks.
Neither of them talked to each other the entire trip down the mountain, and by the time the third sun was setting, they had reached the bottom of the hill. He could make out smoke from across the bay where he thought Selane to be and wondered how many people had made it out. And how many people had not.
As the last lights of day began to fade, Bastra decided it was time to set camp at the base of the mountain, saying that he preferred the safety of the trees to sleeping on the open plains. “By nightfall tomorrow we should be at Eldour. That is if we can keep a quick pace.” Bastra said as they had their dinner of freshly picked fruit and roots they found near camp and freshly caught meat.
Mach’s
job had been to set up the camp. At first, he was upset at having to do it by himself, but when Bastra returned with blood on his spear and the fruit that looked like it to was freshly picked, which Mach felt that it probably was, he thought the trade off was worth it.
All they had for protection from the elements was the fire he had built and their own clothes, as little as that was. Thankfully it was a still warm and the fresh night air was delightful. Had he no memory of what had happened the previous day, he could have sworn they were merely out camping.
“When we reach town tomorrow night,” Bastra repeated “we will stay at an inn, and talk to the king the following morning. Now when we get to the palace, do not talk unless you are spoken too. The king does not like people talking out of turn and you had better have a good reason if you do speak.”
Mach simply nodded. He did not really care at the moment. He had not eaten all day and was of a single mind now. Just like camping, Mach thought to himself as he laid his head on his arms, staring into the fire.
That night, Mach lay on the ground near the fire, thinking about the day before as his stomach made noises of contentment. He stared at the fire and noticed that it seemed brighter than normal. As though there was more life in it than what he would normally see. Looking up at the night sky Mach saw that one of the moons visible this night was the one known as the moon of fire. Its bright red glow was directly above him, he could not remember the name however.
He had only to recall his lessons with his teachers to remember why. That one is supposed to possess the element of fire. Fire burns easier and hotter. More houses burn down on the nights it could be seen high above. He recited to himself. There was something about the moons that always seemed magical to him.
Supposedly, the Goddess of a people long dead had created them when she created their people. It was all too much like magic, which he had to remind himself was a taboo and to most people it was a taboo to even speak of.
Mach continued to look up at the night sky for a while not really seeing any of it. He was thinking of his mother and he could almost see her face in the stars that had gathered above. He thought of where she might be right now and if she was all right.
He thought maybe she was looking for him in vain. Had the other villagers had made it to Madtu yet, his mother safe with them? It was not a long journey, just dangerous and if you had a group it was less so. Things like his encounter with the chimera were some of the dangers, rare though they are and a large enough group would frighten off even that monstrous beast.
He thought of George running off to fight, fear and hatred etched into his eyes. His last thought before he fell asleep was if he would ever see any of his friends or neighbors again.
He dreamt uneasily that night and when morning came, he did not feel rested in the least. But regardless of how he felt the two packed up and left before first light spilled over the hill slopes in the west and together they continued their journey to the capital city of Eldour and the one who ruled over them.
The Stones of Magic Page 2