Zellohar

by Chris A. Jackson

  "How long will it last?" Avari asked, pulling the blade partially free to see if the glow remained.

  "It will glow until the spell is broken, either by myself or another priest of greater faith. Now come here, I've another blessing from Tem."

  One step placed her directly before the half-elf. He pressed the cool metal of his holy symbol to her forehead, speaking once again the cant of his faith. Avari flinched then relaxed as warmth coursed throughout her body, banishing all of her shivers. Even her cold, damp toes felt as though they were close to a cozy fire.

  "It's amazing," she smiled. "It's like I'm two feet from a campfire, only all over!"

  "Now you, Jundag," Shay sighed, his ashen pallor growing even more pale with the exertion.

  "Not by your pointy ears, my friend!" he growled, thick arms crossed and eyes narrowed. "I'll not have your fire sprites running through my veins just to keep me warm."

  "I haven't the strength to argue with you, Jundag. Just come here and—"

  "No, thank you!" he reiterated, jaw clenched in a poor attempt to quell the fear that was the root of his refusal. "I am quite comfortable!" he insisted, his teeth chattering despite the assurance. "I can remain awake and move about to stay warm."

  "And attract the attention of our hungry friends?" Avari argued, stepping between the two. "Not a chance! You're going to hold still for this, and not whine about it. There's nothing to fear. It's just like the food. That didn't hurt you, did it?"

  Turning his own stoic pride against him was the only thing Avari knew that would change his mind. The big man stiffened then squinted at the obvious truth. Finally, he let himself be led to Shay's side, gritting his teeth as the cool silver touched his forehead and magical warmth flooded his body. While the tribesman poked and pulled his skin and clothes in amazement, Shay quickly cast the spell on himself. His duties fulfilled, he stumbled to the wall of the boulder and collapsed to his knees.

  "I must rest now," he whispered as Avari helped him lay down and tucked another blanket around his shoulders. "Tem has been generous, but this was... much more power... than I am used to. The fatigue will pass... with a night's... rest."

  As he drifted away to deep slumber, the warriors looked on Shay's comatose form with a mixture of awe and affection. They owed him so much on this trip already. He had healed their wounds, fed them and provided them with light and warmth in the dark of a winter's night.

  "I am truly glad that I brought the two of you along," Jundag mumbled.

  "Good. You can show your appreciation by taking first watch." Avari smiled, moving to curl up on her own blankets. "Here," she said, unfastening the sheathed dagger and tossing it to Jundag. "Just in case you get afraid in the dark."

  The big man snorted and caught the dagger. Propping his back against the boulder, he gazed out into the snowy night. Before long a second soft snore joined the chorus.

  Deep in the bowels of Zellohar Keep, Iveron Darkmist slumped over a table littered with moldering books and magical paraphernalia. He had not left his laboratory for days, and none of his minions had dared to disturb him. Naught but water had passed his lips, and sleep had not touched his eyes. His armor and robes had been traded for soft black silks, but the gruesome reminder of what he was still rode upon his brow. The dread helm never left him, never could leave him. Together, they were Nekdukarr; apart they were nothing. Neither hunger nor exhaustion could break his demonically augmented concentration as he pored over volume after dusty volume of dwarven lore.

  The focus of his study was the exquisite ruby that had been returned to him after Phlegothax finished with his former squire. The jewel lay cradled before him in an ornate stand of entwined strands of gold and silver. It glowed, as always, with a faint but clear crimson light. The elusive magic of the gems had empowered a single dwarven enchantment that had encased him in an inescapable, mountain-sized field of energy, and finally, inexorably, he was learning the essence of that power.

  Reading the passage of ancient dwarvish script one more time, the seed of comprehension finally germinated into a revelation

  "A conduit?" he asked the ruby, the maniacal gleam of his dead white eyes boring into the stone's crimson depths. The gem gave no reply. The light glinted in the Nekdukarr's pale eyes, making them glitter with crazed conviction. Any sane being, had there been one in the room, would have shuddered at that visage.

  "A simple conduit!" he repeated, surging from his chair to a pentagram etched into the floor. "The dwarves believe that the gems are conduits to the elemental spheres; their power is inherent, a naturally occurring phenomenon, not a magical endowment."

  The mage traced an intricate pattern in the air and thrust his contorted hand toward the wall. Motes of light shot from his hand to explode on the stone, leaving a dark burn, but Iveron missed the display as he turned to fetch the ruby from its berth.

  "I should have known that no dwarf would use an item enchanted by a delver in the arts." Cradling the stone in his hand, he returned to the pentagram and repeated the spell exactly. Fully double the number of motes flew at the wall, creating a charred pit of molten stone where they struck. Iveron smiled in delight.

  "An amplification of magical energies!" He held the ruby close and granted it a lover's gaze. "But are the augmentations additive? And why do the books warn against touching more than one gem simultaneously?" He caressed the stone while he pondered, stroking the red jewel with his long, chill fingers then polishing it with the soft edge of his shirt.

  When the answer did not materialize, Iveron returned to his book-strewn table and replaced the ruby in its holder. Thumbing through the yellowed pages of a tome, he read until he found the information he desired.

  "Yes..." he mumbled, scratching his chin and staring into space. "Contact with two gems might cause a powerful flux between the base spheres. No way to tell what the resulting surge of elemental essence could do."

  Smiling, he thumped the book closed, picked up the ruby and swaddled it in a piece of soft leather.

  "Messenger!" he bellowed. One of the small pages arrived in his study before the echo died. "Take this to Phlegothax, and take care not to disturb him."

  The little creature ran off with the gem clutched dearly to its chest, glancing back at its unpredictable master. It need not have worried; Iveron was thinking only of the empires he could conquer with the might of these gems.

  "Messenger!" Another little creature entered. "Send for my Dukarr, excluding Subcaptain Glurg; he is busy in the keep above. Tell them there is to be a council of war held in the officer's dining hall immediately." As the small beast scurried off with a bow, Iveron Darkmist's cruel blue lips parted into a rictus smile.

  "And so it comes together..."

  CHAPTER 16

  Jundag's dreams of stalking naked wenches through the woods were shattered by an insistent pull on his arm. Only half awake, he started to protest, but Avari's hand clapped over his mouth.

  "Quiet!" she hissed, pulling him upright. "We're in danger! Arm yourself and wake Shay. No noise, it might set them off."

  Jundag rolled out of his blanket and gathered his weapons, peering into the darkness. The clouds had broken, and a few stars lit the scene. Moving carefully, Jundag woke Shay, then went to Avari's side. She knelt with her bow strung and an arrow nocked. Her sheathed sword lay close by her knee. Together they scanned the blackness of the woods. The snow lay unbroken as far as they could see; no foe had ventured into the open. But the starlight was inadequate to illuminate whatever might lurk among the trees.

  Jundag stared so hard into the surrounding gloom that phantom spots began to dance before his eyes. A flash of movement blurred the edge of his vision, black on black.

  "What..." he whispered to Avari.

  "Wolves." Shay now stood behind them. "And quite a number of them."

  "How many?" demanded Jundag, bending his bow and snatching an arrow.

  "At least a score, but there are likely more beyond my vision." Shay whispered. "Draw
your dagger, Avari, and let us see how many there really are. I do not believe a simple light will cause them to attack."

  Avari hesitated then drew the dagger, holding it high over her head. Light exploded across the snow, and onto the writhing mass of grey shapes in the woods. Over a hundred pairs of eyes reflected the white light of the dagger, glowing like pearls against the shroud of the night.

  "By the Nine Hells, look at them!" Jundag hissed, taking a step back toward the relative security of the boulder.

  "Fear not, warrior. They will not harm you, lest you show aggression."

  The soft, feminine voice at their backs banished all thoughts of wolves. Jundag whirled, his bow drawn and ready to fire. His companions reacted similarly; Avari's glowing dagger was cocked back to throw, and Shay's hammer was raised for a deadly blow.

  "What in the name of..." Jundag held his attack as he stared at the beautiful elfin woman who stood with her back to their sheltering stone.

  His first thought had been that this was a child; the top of her head—silky hair glistening like polished onyx in the light—barely reached his chest. But a mature, if slim, figure was outlined by her thick, brown robes. The garment was gathered at the waist with rope, and draped all the way to the snow. The cloak's hood was thrown back, revealing classic elfin features only hinted at in Shay's countenance: brown, oval eyes; high, delicate cheek bones; gracefully pointed ears; and a wide, shapely mouth. Her bronzed skin was so smooth that Jundag thought he could see the pale blue veins pulsing in her long neck. But superstitious anger quickly overrode his admiration. What elfin magic was this? Had she materialized out of the very mountain?

  Despite her fragile air and the weapons arrayed against her, the woman seemed at ease. And although a great black bow was slung over her shoulder, she made no move to use it, but smiled serenely.

  "Not a 'what', warrior, but a 'who' I think." Her musical voice matched her enchanting countenance perfectly.

  "Very well then, elf-out-of-the-stone," Jundag snapped, "who are you, and how do you come to be so far afield with these wolves about?"

  "My name is Lynthalsea," she answered, the music and smile gone. "Which I am sure means little to a human from the northern lowland tribes. And know this, proud bearer of many weapons: this forest is my home, just as the cities of stone and cut wood are yours. It is considered polite in both our cultures to show courtesy when in someone else's residence."

  The chiding rankled Jundag more than an attack would have.

  "I need no scolding for my manners by an elf peasant, dressed in naught but an old blanket!" He lowered his bow, but reached toward the hilt of his sword. "We will go where we please and—"

  A loud growl interrupted him. Glancing back, he saw that the wolves had advanced into the circle of light cast by Avari's dagger. Teeth bared and hackles bristling, they had lost their previous caution.

  "It would be an easy thing, tribesman, to let my friends feast tonight. But I think not." Abruptly, the elf turned toward the wolves and actually snarled at them. The response was immediate; the wolves cowed, bowing their heads and backing up, glancing at the elf woman with uncertainty.

  Jundag was aghast; first her sudden appearance, and now she spoke with wolves. Dire magic must indeed be at work here. He was about to reply when Shay stepped forward and spoke.

  "Let me apologize for my friend's behavior, Lynthalsea, but you must understand, he is a warrior and oft given to a quick temper." Shay bowed deeply from the waist. "My name is Szcze-kon. I am a priest of Tem the Balancer, Lord of Justice. I hope we did not offend you or your"—a quick glance at the pacing animals—"friends. We did not mean to trespass, but are seeking the—"

  "You seek the orc lair," the elf interrupted. "That is plain enough. We have been following you for two days."

  Jundag shivered at the thought that they had been at the mercy of this strange elf and her horde of wolves, but his anger at Shay's deference overrode his apprehension. He opened his mouth to deliver an angry retort, but was interrupted by the elf.

  "I will aid you, but not without a warning." Lynthalsea said. "There is more amiss here than merely orc raids. Evil creatures have also been in the forest of late. The beast you killed near your first night's camp was a zykell, a half-demon summoned into our world. Caution would be prudent, for you are only three against an unknown force."

  "We are not fools!" Jundag spat, stung at being lectured in caution. "We seek the source of the raids to report back to the guilds, so that a larger force may be assembled."

  "Very well," she conceded. "Your goal is Zellohar, the ancient keep of the dwarves. The creatures use the fortress as their lair, and they are wary. The trail up the mountain is difficult to find unless one knows what to look for. Seek a sheltered vale to the southeast; you will know it by the three sharp peaks on the northern face. Below the western-most peak is a cleverly disguised cleft in the rock. It will appear to be a dead end, but if you look with your hands instead of your eyes, you will find a passage to the trail that clings to the cliff face. The climb is treacherous, and would be fatal if one were to fall."

  "How do you know of—" Shay started to ask.

  Jundag rounded on him angrily; no one was going to usurp his leadership on this expedition, and it was time to put the priest back in his place. Avari's intervention averted a physical confrontation, but when they turned back to the elf, only her footprints remained. Scanning the forest, they glimpsed the last of the huge wolf pack receded into the night.

  Shay used the time until dawn to meditate. The encounter with Lynthalsea had banished his fatigue in a rush of adrenalin, and he could not get her out of his mind. He encouraged the warriors to sleep, and when the sun's first light crept over the snow, he was relaxed and rested.

  His companions were not so fortunate. Avari had tossed and turned as her warmth spell slowly wore off. Jundag had tried and failed to resume his dreams, finally giving up and huddling under his cloak, pulling extra blankets over him to ward off the cold.

  At the first hint of sunrise, they struck out toward the triple peaks as Lynthalsea had directed. The snow deepened as they worked their way into the mountains, and more than once they blessed the snowshoes that were now indispensable.

  Just after noon they ventured into the described valley, and tried in vain to spot the cleft while keeping to the cover of the trees. Finally, Shay's keen eyes spied a small break in the snow that creased a cliff.

  "That's it!" Avari looked around, saw nothing, and started out. Jundag nearly broke her neck as he wrenched on the rope tied to her supplies.

  "What are you doing?" he demanded. "We cannot go until dark, so we will not be seen."

  "Dark?" Shay was doubtful. "Orcs are nocturnal; their eyesight is worse in daylight. We should go now."

  "That is stupid!" Jundag countered. "We would be open to any one of a dozen attacks. Why, they could have a lookout in those rocks even as we speak, ready to fill us full of arrows as soon as we leave the trees!"

  Avari stepped between the two men with a conciliatory gesture.

  "It seems to me that you're both right, so why not use a little of each plan? First of all, none of us got a full night's sleep last night, and waiting for darkness would give us all a chance to rest." Shay began to interrupt, but she waved him off.

  "We assume they send out patrols and we hope to avoid them, especially on the climb up, correct?" The men nodded and she continued. "So we wait until one comes out then make our ascent. They probably won't send out a second patrol the same night, and if we move quickly we'll arrive ahead of any coming in."

  "And what if no patrol comes out this night?" Jundag asked.

  "Then we wait only until midnight. They wouldn't be likely to send a group out in the morning hours, since most of their traveling time would already have been lost."

  "The plan has merit." Shay smiled, pleased with her logical thinking. Avari was learning caution.

  "Any plan has merit until the bottom falls out of it," Junda
g pointed out. "You might not think so much of it if we happen across an orc raiding party half way up that mountain!"

  Avari stepped in to fend off another argument. "We all agree that it's dangerous. This whole trip is dangerous, but we could sit here for days and argue and still be no farther up that mountain."

  Jundag relented, but insisted that they work out their strategy step by step. Twice they went over things, defining alternatives for all the worst-case scenarios they could think of. Their planning took much of the afternoon, but left ample time for each to catch a nap before night fell.

  Dusk had barely darkened into full night before grunted curses and the clatter of equipment snapped Shay to attention. As he roused the others, a group of shapes exited the crevasse, fumbling in the snow before heading in the opposite direction of the companions' hiding place. The three breathed a collective sigh of relief.

  "I counted twelve," Shay whispered.

  "Then your eyes are better than mine," the tribesman conceded, squinting across the starlit snow. "The only way I even knew they were orcs was because they were upwind."

  Avari stared after the figures and sniffed the air. She could not smell anything, but shivered as she watched them disappear into the forest. Her father's stories of evil beasts were proving less likely to be the tall tales she had thought.

  "We should wait until they are well away," Jundag advised. "Are the packs well hidden?"

  "Buried deep and covered with fresh snow," Avari answered.

  It had been her idea to hide the packs before entering the keep. A swordfight was hard enough without fifty pounds of clanging pots and pans on your back, and they had food in their pouches to last a day. The small party slunk out of the trees and rushed across the open expanse to the cleft in the cliff face. The opening looked too narrow to enter until they stood right at its mouth, and inside there was nothing but blank rock.