Raven Quest

by R A Oakes

  “So why doesn’t this lava bother you?”

  “Well, as I’ve said, it’s tame. But when we go farther down and actually meet my friends, you’d best stay clear of the streams there. This lava is tame, which is why we’ll swim down, but the lava I want is so filled with demonic energy that even touching it would drive you insane.”

  “Pretty much like how you are now?”

  “You really are too judgmental.”

  “Balzekior, not only do you want that demonic lava, you need it, don’t you?”

  “You’ll see once we get there,” Balzekior said. Then, she gave Jaren another shove, another really hard one, and he plunged headfirst into the lava, once again disappearing beneath the surface.

  Twenty-miles-deep into the earth’s crust and hours later, Balzekior signaled for Jaren to follow her and began swimming as hard as she could, veering off from the main underground river of lava into a much smaller right fork. They’d been rocketing downward into a seemingly bottomless abyss and, after passing a three- pronged stalactite formation, the old crone knew an important passageway would soon be coming. Shortly afterwards, Balzekior glanced back at Jaren and shouted, “There’s the entrance and if you don’t want to meet creatures even worse than my friends, then you’d better not let yourself be swept away.”

  Amazed that he could hear Balzekior’s voice over the roar of the thousands of tons of molten magma cascading all around them, Jaren arced upward, swimming for a crack in the ceiling, a thin crevasse the old witch had just disappeared into. Grasping the downstream edge of the crack, Jaren pulled himself inside. Next, after swimming through a narrow tunnel for a few minutes, Jaren pushed off from the rock floor and shot upward quickly breaking the surface. Then Jaren glanced around assessing a cavern that wasn’t much bigger than the one they’d left behind, but the heat was worse, much worse.

  “So this is what we came here to see?” Jaren asked.

  “Not quite,” Balzekior said, as she gripped a rock ledge surrounding a pool of tame lava and dragged herself up onto the cavern floor. Climbing out of the lava as well and looking around, Jaren noticed a stream flowing from the small pond over towards a large opening which took up one entire side of the cavern, thus making it a room enclosed by rock walls on three sides with the fourth side being exposed to whatever was below. After heading over to the opening, Jaren realized it was the edge of a cliff, and Balzekior looked at the flaming humanoid and said, “Now jump.”

  “What?”

  “Jump.”

  “No, the fall would kill me.”

  “You won’t fall,” Balzekior said, giving him yet another firm shove, laughing as Jaren waved his arms around and tried to regain his balance. But as he went headfirst over the edge, he found himself hovering, suspended in midair, and asked, “So I can fly?”

  “Yes,” the old crone replied, as she stepped into thin air and began hovering as well.

  “How is it that you can fly? You’re not covered in flames.”

  “I can fly anytime I’m home.”

  After hovering in the upper reaches of the massive cavern for a few moments, Jaren began to feel more comfortable. That is, until he pointed at the floor far below and asked, “Who are they?”

  “They’re the guards who protect the streams, the ones filled with the demonic lava I’ve been telling you about,” the old crone said.

  “There must be hundreds of guards.”

  “Let’s go see them, and let me do the talking,” Balzekior said.

  Yet once they’d gone down about a quarter of a mile, Jaren stopped again and said, “They look like ghosts. You didn’t say they were ghosts.”

  “They’re half-visible.”

  “Like I said, they’re ghosts.”

  “You might want to refer to them as half-visible or maybe as being translucent.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “People who are dead can be very touchy about what living people call them.”

  “Translucent?”

  “You’ll live longer calling them that, but don’t talk to anyone.”

  “Okay, fine,” Jaren said, but as he and Balzekior flew farther down, the human bonfire was shocked by their appearance. These weren’t just ghosts. They were warrior ghosts, both men and women, carrying swords and spears.

  After landing near one of the wide streams of demonic lava, Jaren and Balzekior waited as the ghosts approached, some on flaming chariots while others were gliding gracefully across the cavern floor or along the surface of the streams.

  As they came closer, Balzekior backed up to the nearest stream, unwilling to be cut off from direct access to what she’d been craving since her journey began. Suddenly, Balzekior heard the crack of a whip, and she knew what that meant, the captain of the translucent guards was about to appear. Charging along the cavern floor was the largest flaming chariot either Balzekior or Jaren had seen since their arrival, but rather than being worried, the old crone was greatly relieved. Such a chariot heralded the arrival of a ghostly leader who Balzekior considered to be a friend. However, when the captain pulled up in front of the old crone, the woman on the chariot was someone other than the female ghost Balzekior had expected.

  “Where’s Tamalta?” Balzekior demanded.

  “I’m afraid Tamalta’s no longer with us. My name is Enjora, Captain Enjora.”

  “Well,CaptainEnjora,whywasTamalta replaced?”

  “I’m sure you know more about that than anyone here.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It seems you have plans to create a lake of demonic lava that’s close to the surface of the earth. And it seems you exerted considerable influence over Tamalta because you won her over, didn’t you? She agreed with you the last time you were here, am I correct?”

  “She was a discerning leader who understood the importance of such a lake of fire.”

  “It would be convenient for you, but we’d be the ones who’d have to protect it. All of us would be tied up protecting such a lake, one so close to the surface.”

  “Tamalta was beginning to agree with me. She’d seen the light.”

  “Well, she’s been banished, and all she’ll be seeing is darkness, a lot of darkness for a long time to come.”

  “Then, you need to listen to my reasoning, to the benefits of moving some of the demonic lava closer to the surface.”

  “We like it right where we are.”

  “What about fun?” Balzekior asked.

  “There’s nothing here that’s any fun, nothing at all.”

  “That’s my point. To have fun, you have to have something or someone to have fun with.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Him,” Balzekior said, shoving Jaren towards Captain Enjora.

  “What’s so much fun about him?”

  “Back on the surface of the earth, the trolls captured him, and I had him put in chains. He spends his days dragging them around Gratuga while all the trolls watch him hungrily wondering when I’ll let them have him for dinner. His name’s Jaren, and he’s depressed and despondent most of the time.”

  Captain Enjora looked at Jaren hard, very hard, and said, “Maybe you’d like to leave him behind with us.”

  “Never, he’s way too much fun.”

  “Maybe you could bring others like him down here.”

  “No.”

  “Why not?” Captain Enjora asked, glaring at Balzekior.

  “Because you can get plenty like him on your own.”

  “Where?”

  “Back on the surface of the earth.”

  “So that’s how you got Tamalta to almost betray us? You offered her toys to play with, human toys to torment and ruin.”

  “I offered her a way to have fun.”

  Captain Enjora looked at Jaren and felt a pang of excitement, but then, she caught herself and said, “You are a witch, Balzekior. If you’re allowed to remain here much longer, you’ll corrupt us all with your tricks.”

  “This isn’t
a trick. It’s real. There are lots of humans to torment on the surface, lots and lots of them.”

  “What about human inventiveness?”

  “What about it?” Balzekior asked.

  “Inventiveness and creativity make humans dangerous.”

  “What could they do to hurt us?”

  “They could attack the lake of lava, the very lake you say is so important.”

  “That’s because it would be important.”

  “When you leave here and get closer to the surface of the earth, you lose what, about half of your power? And then, when you need to recharge, you’re down to about 25 percent of your strength? And that’s if you recharge when you should and don’t delay.”

  “You seem to be well-informed for someone who never leaves this cavern.”

  “Tamalta was especially talkative once she’d been given the proper incentives. Yes, Tamalta was more than glad to repeat almost everything you’d told her about yourself. You should be careful about being so trusting.”

  “What proper incentives?”

  “Painful incentives.”

  Balzekior shivered involuntarily for the old crone knew she’d stop at nothing to gain information from Tamalta if it was information that she needed and needed badly. But Balzekior said, “Personally, I wouldn’t have tried to coerce her. I’d have let her make up her own mind about what she wanted to reveal and what she didn’t.”

  “Yea, that’s what she said you’d say, but she also said you lie all the time.”

  “As opposed to what?”

  “Exactly, which is also why you’ll never get your precious lake of demonic lava, you’ll never have one near the surface. Never.”

  “Never is a long time,” Balzekior sneered. “A lot can change even in a short while.”

  Captain Enjora knew a threat when she heard one and motioned for her ghosts to encircle the old crone. Suddenly aware that Captain Enjora might actually be bold enough, or dumb enough, to try to take her prisoner, Balzekior inched closer to the stream next to her and asked, “Have you ever seen what happens when I fall back into one of these and sink below the surface?”

  “No I haven’t, not personally, but Tamalta mentioned it. She said you jump in and come out as a big ball of fire ranting and raving. It must be quite a sight.”

  “Is that all Tamalta told you?”

  “At that point, she wasn’t in any condition to be talking about much of anything, at least not for a long while.”

  “Well, you might have wanted to speak with her a bit more on the subject.”

  “I think we got everything important out of her.”

  “Really?” Balzekior asked as she put her heels against the edge of the stream, stretched out her arms and fell backwards into the lava and sank like a stone. However, after only a few moments, Balzekior began rising up out of the lava, though not as an old crone. Now, she was in the form of a giant lava monster, and as Captain Enjora looked at Balzekior in shock and disbelief, the lava monster pulled herself out of the stream. Next, she stood up to her full height of 30 feet and roared out her anger with flames pouring off of her with unbridled fury. “Back away and I mean now!” she shouted with all her might.

  Stunned, Captain Enjora looked around to see how many of her translucent warrior guards were holding their ground in the face of such a display of power. Most had fled in fear and panic, but almost 100 had remained in the vicinity. Yet even those appeared to be on the verge of turning tail and running, and Captain Enjora knew she had to do something and do it quickly. And so she shouted back, “You still need to be able to gain access to these streams of demonic lava, and if you cause any more trouble, I’ll see to it that you never come here again.”

  “If you threaten to block me, if you so much as even think it, I’ll destroy you!” Balzekior shouted in defiance.

  “You can kill me, but you can’t kill everyone here.”

  “That won’t be necessary since most of your warriors ran like cowards.”

  “They’ll be back and in greater numbers.”

  “But you won’t be here to lead them because you’ll be dead.”

  “Not if you want demonic lava closer to the surface of the earth.”

  “You’re against that happening.”

  “We can negotiate.”

  “Why should I negotiate with you?”

  “You have to negotiate with someone. And you’ve already gotten my attention, so why start over with someone else? I can be practical when necessary.”

  “Why should I negotiate at all?”

  “Once you leave . . . and you’ll never stay here, you find it too boring.”

  “That’s because it is boring.”

  “So, once you leave here and go back to the surface, you’ll weaken eventually. Even if you’re careful about how much energy you use, sooner or later, you’ll need to return and wouldn’t you like to have this be a place where you’re welcome?”

  Balzekior said nothing and just glared at her opponent.

  “You were weak and vulnerable when you climbed out of that small pool of tame lava in the upper cavern. What if I’d posted guards there before you arrived? That would have caused you a lot of trouble, and we might even have been able to capture you.”

  “Don’t ever try to stop me from gaining entrance to this cavern.”

  “I won’t, just remember that you need us.”

  “Okay, but I want at least one stream of demonic lava closer to the surface.”

  “I’m willing to meet you halfway.”

  “That’s still ten miles underground, which is way too inconvenient.”

  “It’s the best you’re going to get for now. And without us, you won’t even have that.”

  Balzekior gritted her teeth and clenched her fists but said nothing.

  “Good, that’s settled,” Captain Enjora said firmly.

  “Let’s go,” Balzekior said, sighing in frustration and glancing over at Jaren who leapt into the air, eager to escape this land of desolation, with a 30-foot-tall Balzekior following close behind in all her fiery glory. Once they crossed the threshold into the much smaller cavern, Balzekior said, “We shouldn’t have any more problems.”

  “What about swimming upriver through millions of tons of lava flowing straight down on us?”

  “That’s not a concern either, now that I’m refreshed. Just stay directly behind me and follow in my wake,” Balzekior said, bursting into a raging inferno and jumping into the small pool of lava. Not wanting to be left behind, Jaren plunged in as well, racing through the tunnel and plowing into the river of tame lava almost like it wasn’t even there. As Balzekior shot upward, with Jaren right behind, the tame lava seemed eager to get out of the demonic lava woman’s way, and they made better time going up than they had coming down.

  In what felt to Jaren like an hour or less, even much less, they reached the original cavern where they’d first begun their journey, and both he and Balzekior climbed out of the lava stream. Right away, the human bonfire noticed a dramatic difference in his monstrous companion, Balzekior being much smaller than she’d been while back home. The demonic lava monster noticed Jaren’s surprise and said, “I know I’m only a third of the size I was before, and my flames are far less intense. That’s a problem every time I return to the surface, and it’s why I need a lake of lava as close to me as possible. But for now, lets head back into the tunnel leading to the surface.”

  “You’ll never fit in that tunnel.”

  “As soon as I leave this cavern, I’ll become almost as small as a human. So I’ll manage. But you’ll notice a change in yourself as well.”

  “I can already see that my flames aren’t as intense as they were.”

  “I’ve never taken a human home before, and so I’m not quite sure what to expect when it comes to your readjusting to the surface world.”

  Entering the tunnel first, Jaren immediately noticed that his flames were considerably diminished, making him feel heavier and making it
more difficult to walk. Balzekior had an easier time of it, appearing stronger and confident, but after they’d climbed for a while and rounded the first bend, the lava monster changed, and changed dramatically. Though still covered in flames, she was as short as she’d been as an old crone. Jaren, on the other hand, seemed about the same.

  However, with each hundred yards or so, as they got closer to the entrance of the tunnel, their flames were becoming much less intense and not nearly as bright. And by the time they exited the tunnel, Balzekior was back to being the decrepit old crone she’d always been, and Jaren’s flames had gone out totally, returning him to his previous physical form as well. But they at least had their clothes and weren’t naked, for which Jaren was grateful having no interest in witnessing Balzekior’s ravaged body in the flesh.

  “I’d have thought our clothes would have been burned off of us. How can we still be dressed?” Jaren asked.

  “My robes have always been fire resistant, and I made your clothes fireproof before changing you into a human bonfire.” Then, after pausing for a moment, Balzekior reached down and picked up the chains that Jaren had worn from Gratuga to the tunnel entrance.

  “Oh, not those again?”

  “On the way back to Gratuga, you can carry them. But you’ll put them back on before entering the troll capital.”

  “Can’t you just forget about them? I mean, really, how am I going to escape once we’re back in Gratuga?”

  “Once we’re back there, I’ll put you in double the chains you were wearing.”

  “Why?”

  “You got a taste of freedom, and I think you liked it.”

  “Freedom? You call going miles underground being free?”

  “At least it was a change of pace, but I think it might have invigorated you and bucked you up some. Doubling the chains will soon take the spring out of your step,” Balzekior said, wearing her twisted little smile again.

  “I could run away before we even start back.”

  “Really?” Balzekior asked, thrusting her right arm forward while pointing her open palm at a large boulder. And, much to Jaren’s surprise, a burst of energy shot out of the old crone’s hand sending the boulder flying as if it had been little more than a stone that she was tossing away.