Bakalor, the demon of the underworld, advanced toward Thorik and Avanda from the far end of the cavern. Rock and mud made up the demon’s bones and muscles. Crystals filled in for teeth and long sharp nails, as diamonds the size of Thorik’s head were inset in his eye sockets. Standing on two legs, it shoveled handfuls of the dead spirits into its mouth. Once swallowed, their souls were lost forever, never to have the chance to reincarnate into a body of a future person or creature.
Thick flaming oil dripped off the demon’s body, acting as a lubricant to allow his various parts to work together. Subtle oily flames rippled out from every crack as it illuminated its entire body.
Thorik and Avanda peeked out from the confines of the boulders they hid among. They were silent, but their blood pulsed through their bodies at a fast pace as the realization of the new threat was more than they felt they could deal with.
Towering in size, the demon stood at a height easily twice that of their giant friend Grewen. But this was no clumsy moving creature. It moved within the cave as if it were an extension of the rock and earth. Walking into a cavern wall, it would be absorbed into it as it exited from another wall.
After shoveling several more handfuls of the dead into his mouth, it finally came to a stop and searched about for something amiss. Feeling the cave’s vibrations through its feet, it could sense something was wrong. “Heartbeats? Here, in Della Estovia?” The voice was booming and coarse.
Thorik and Avanda ducked back down behind the boulders, hoping to evade detection.
“This place is not for the living,” Bakalor announced, shaking the walls with his voice. “You have trespassed into my domain. Who are you? And why have you come?”
Thorik and Avanda tried to communicate to each other with hand signals, attempting to plan an escape from the cavern. Neither did an adequate job in relaying their message.
The cavern floors acted as extensions of Bakalor’s feet, and he could feel the warmth of the Num’s bodies behind the boulders. Reaching an arm down into the rock below him, his palm sprang up out of the rock across the cave directly below the Nums. Oil quickly saturated the ground near the Num’s feet as the boulders they hid between transformed into Bakalor’s fingers.
The giant hand, which had emerged from the cave’s floor, closed onto the Nums and encased them in rock before lowering back into the cave’s floor.
On the far side of the cavern, Bakalor pulled his hand up out of the ground near his feet and then opened it up near his face. Rattled by the abduction, the Nums in his palm looked back up at him in awe.
The center of the demon’s face sagged down over the front of his mouth. His steamy breath smelled of sulfur, and the texture of his skin was abrasive and was composed of several types of minerals.
“I am Thorik Dain of Farbank,” the Num announced as he held his hand out to deflect the burning hot air from the demon’s nostrils. “We fell into your caves by accident. We are here only in search of our way out.”
Bakalor’s hand lifted them closer to one of his diamond eyes, as he inspected his captured prey. “Your name sounds familiar. Thorik Dain of Farbank?”
“Yes,” Thorik answered hesitantly. The giant diamond rotated inside the demon’s eye socket as it studied the Num. The thick flaming oil drained out of the socket and into the beast’s mouth.
“After all these years? Could it be? Yes, I believe it is. I know you,” Bakalor finally announced.
“You know of me? Has someone told you about us?”
“Don’t toy with me,” the demon growled. “I know you, just as you know me!”
“But how?”
“You are the reason I am here!”
Avanda shot a look at Thorik, who was just as perplexed.
“Me?” Thorik asked sheepishly.
Ignoring his captives, Bakalor closed his fingers around the Nums again, sealing them in tight before the demon walked into a nearby wall. The wall absorbed the majority of demon’s body, while a few stray rocks slapped against the wall and rolled to the floor.
The Nums could hear the grinding and slamming of rock as the demon traveled through the earth’s solid crust between each cave. Bakalor traveled in a straight line. Cavern walls were just as easy to pass through for him as open caves, much like a Num walking from one room of a house to another through walls made of rice paper.
The difference, however, was that the demon’s body transferred from rock to rock along the way instead of pushing a solid form all the way through. This was also the case for the opening where the Nums sat within. The rocks continued to move past them, opening up and separating at just the right time to maintain a consistent shape of the inside the demon’s palm. The only part of Bakalor that traveled with him was the thick oil, which seeped through cracks and acquired new rocks for his body.
Thorik and Avanda bounced around inside the giant fist for quite some time before it finally stopped and the rock fingers opened up. Once their eyes adjusted, they began to survey their surroundings.
A cavernous terrain, miles in every direction, lie before them with a maze of tall pumice walls and several ancient buildings constructed on bridges that spanned the rivers of lava. The cavern’s ceiling was nearly a quarter mile high and covered with arching rows of stalactites where cracks in the limestone had existed. Flames shot up from rivers that tumbled down various falls and rapids throughout the open cavern.
In contrast to the red flowing magma rivers, giant light-blue crystals jutted up from the floor at odd angles, reaching up and embedding themselves in the high ceiling. Resembling columns of sunlight breaking through dark and dangerous clouds, the crystals gave the Nums a sense of hope that there was freedom just beyond this hideous place.
But their attention needed to be on where they were and not where they wanted to be. This mighty cavern was a hot and dry landscape, which smelled of sulfur and acid. Even if the demon set them free, they would struggle to survive in such a place for long.
“The underworld,” Thorik said under his breath to Avanda. “Where the dead roam in their afterlife.” They had both heard the fables of such a place, but had never given the stories any validity until now.
Bakalor tilted his hand, dropping the two Nums onto the flat top of a rock column, which he had silently called upon to grow from the floor just moments prior. The demon then sat down in his enormous throne and reveled at his accomplishment.
Screams of pain could be heard; however the bodies they came from could not be seen. The Nums searched in every direction for the owners of the voices, but found none.
“This…” Bakalor opened his arms. “…is what I have created from my humble beginnings. I had nearly perished during my first century down here. Eventually civilizations grew above ground and brought corruption, greed, and malice. It was a taste I learned to enjoy.”
As he listened to the demon, Thorik pulled out the Runestone of Courage, which he had used earlier to see the dead souls. “Avanda, keep him occupied,” he whispered.
“It wasn’t long before my children began to bring them to me in droves. I no longer need to hunt on the surface during the dark of night.” Bakalor straightened the enormous spear and mace next to his throne. “Bitter to my taste were their souls at first, but I learned to tolerate them. The sweet taste of the noble and pure of heart is so rare. However, the crystal columns usually take them before I find them.”
Avanda trembled as she followed Thorik’s instructions. “Bakalor, is it?”
“It is.”
“What happens to the souls down here?”
“Those that I eat are lost forever. A few are pulled into the crystal columns and whisked away to some higher plane. The rest walk endlessly in my caverns, at least until they are called upon to live again.” Bakalor coughed at the idea. “Doesn’t seem to make sense. They live life after life making the same mistakes and always ending up back down here. There are only a few that actually learn from prior lives and are granted access to the columns.”
Thorik had
been ignoring the demon and had focused on the Runestone. It wasn’t long before the gem in the center began to glow and the light illuminated the hundreds of thousands of ghostly figures, which moved among the giant cave’s maze.
The dead walked the underworld in an endless search for peace. All species and all ages slowly paraded through lines, hoping they could find any end to their fruitless existence.
“We do not belong here,” Thorik said to Bakalor.
“Nor do I,” the demon said spitefully.
“No, you don’t understand. We aren’t dead yet. Only those who have died are allowed in Della Estovia.”
Bakalor leaned forward and reached out to touch Thorik with one of his enormous fingers. “You are correct. But I will be resolving this issue, slowly, for livestock is a rare treat for me. Your juicy plump flesh is much to my liking regardless of your innocence or sins.” Bakalor firmly pressed a single giant finger against the Num.
Thorik’s body went rigid as he began to feel the heat rush away from his body. The gem in the center of his Runestones instantly dimmed and the view of the ghostly inhabitants disappeared.
Bakalor’s body jerked at the influx of fresh life-force. “So sweet is the taste, I nearly forgot.” He arched his head back as he sucked in the warmth. “You will come to fear me, every minute of every day.”
Waves of warmth flowed from the Num, each slowly removing months and even years from his life as his body showed the signs of the attack. Thorik’s youthful face was quickly becoming a man as each year of his life was raped from him. In addition, the process induced muscle seizures and stinging sensations across his skin. His heart quickened, his lungs squeezed tight, and his head felt as though it was being drained of blood.
Bakalor breathed in with quivering lips as though the sensation of receiving the Num’s life-force was erotic in nature. His eyes rolled back in his head as a grin of pleasure crossed his face.
Confidence and courage drained from Thorik’s body as well, leaving doubt and fear to fester in his mind. Cold, bitter thoughts from his past sprang forth to start suppressing the times of joy and love. Good was slowly being devoured by hate and fear.
Avanda grabbed Thorik to pull him away, only to find herself caught in the vacuum effect caused by the demon. Heated waves of energy now pulled from her chest and flowed out of her body and into Thorik’s, before it continued out into the demon. Thorik’s pain was now Avanda’s as they both screamed from their suffering.
The agony was stifling for Avanda. She could feel the demon’s presence on her, in her, and within her own thoughts. It felt as though the demon had climbed into her body and was using it as a toy as he selected the best parts of her memories to pilfer.
Bakalor was now breathing heavy with ecstasy from his tasty treat of energy from non-dead life forms. His enjoyment caused him such pleasure that he eventually fell back and collapsed into his throne, releasing his touch of the Nums.
A burst of flame erupted from the oil that covered the demon’s body. The heat fanned against the Nums as intense fire shot high into the air for several seconds before dissipating to its prior soft flame. Upon returning to normal, Bakalor sighed with pleasure and closed his eyes. The ordeal had literally exhausted his own body, causing him to pass out from a pleasure he had not enjoyed for decades. The spirit of the Nums had been more than he had expected.
Sobbing from the pain, the Nums held onto each other as they dropped to the surface of the column. Fear of another attack caused them to shake and cry, for they had never felt so helpless to defend themselves.
Thorik looked for a way to escape as he held Avanda tight. Her body continued to shake and her skin was cold against his. “I’ll get you out of this.”
Avanda’s lungs hurt so much, it was difficult for her to speak while crying and gasping for breath. “We aren’t going to make it this time.”
Thorik instinctively agreed with her before realizing that the thoughts placed in his head by Bakalor were clouding his judgment. Looking directly into her eyes, his now aged face gave her a stern look. “Don’t talk like that. Never give up hope.”
She shivered uncontrollably. “It’s over, Thorik. We can’t beat him.”
The words made emotional sense, but Thorik fought off the temptation to give into Bakalor’s thoughts of defeat and fear. “Don’t say that!” Thorik searched frantically for a way down off the column where they sat. There was no way to climb down and the jump would easily break their legs. However, there was another option.
“Avanda, stand up,” Thorik helped her to her feet and turned her toward the sleeping demon. “We can jump over to his throne and climb down from there.”
Shaking her head as she began to regain her strength, Avanda had no desire to jump toward the demon. The horror he had implanted in her mind swayed her thoughts. “He’ll wake up.”
“Not if we land on the throne’s armrest without touching him.”
It was a risk, seeing that Bakalor’s arm covered over half of the throne’s armrest. On a good day, Thorik would feel very comfortable about the leap, but in his current state he wasn’t sure he could do it, let alone Avanda.
Bakalor snarled and growled in his sleep, causing both of the Nums to cower slightly. But the demon’s noises only lasted a moment.
Thorik rubbed his hands up and down on her arms to warm her up. “I’ll go first, then I’ll catch you when you jump.” It was easier to say than to do. The demon had embedded such fear inside him that it was difficult for him to look directly at Bakalor’s face.
Avanda stared in a terrified trance at the demon instead of replying.
“Here I go.” He stepped back to get a few steps of a running start. Crouching down, he paused before launching himself forward and stretching his body out to make the distance.
Flying through the air, his legs kicked a few times before landing on the armrest and rolling toward the demon, sliding to a halt just before touching the sleeping giant. He had landed so close that the oily flames on the demon’s body dripped onto Thorik’s back. Thorik scooted away and rolled on his back to put out the flames before rising up to help Avanda. He dared not to look over his shoulder to see if the demon was aware of his presence, for fear of cowering to his peering eyes.
Avanda cringed as she had watched Thorik’s near fatal leap and roll. Now she paced on the small surface of the column trying to gain enough confidence in her ability to jump the span. It was uncommon for her to doubt herself, but the demon had struck a nerve she had only felt once before when she was nearly raped in Southwind. They had both made her feel vulnerable and violated, a feeling she hated.
“Jump!” Thorik held out his hands, ready to catch her whenever she chose to jump.
The sight of the demon caused Avanda to lower her head and her feet to back up. She didn’t know why the sight of him caused her such tremors of fear down her spine, but she eventually realized that she wouldn’t be able to make the jump if she looked at him. Even the thought of him caused her to become unsure of herself.
Thorik watched her pace. He knew their window of time could be limited and Bakalor could wake up at any moment. They had to move quickly and quietly. If caught, a second attack would surely drain them of any energy or desire to attempt such a daring escape. “Hurry!”
Focusing on Thorik’s face, a bit of strength came back into her body. “I can do this.” She then stepped back before making a three-step jump.
Bakalor coughed and swung his arm off the armrest and onto his stomach while in his dream state.
Thorik fell flat onto the armrest to avoid being hit by Bakalor’s arm, but Avanda panicked while taking her last step in leaping across.
Avanda flew across with arms and legs flailing around before landing on top of Thorik. Grabbing him the moment she landed, her out of control tumble pulled him off the armrest and onto the seat of the throne before rolling off and landing on the cavern floor.
Thorik landed first, on his back, while Avanda’s stro
ng clutch of his shirt kept her on his front.
Lying face to face on top of each other, they moaned silently from the pain of the fall, hoping to still escape before the demon was awoken. The silence that followed convinced them that they hadn’t woken Bakalor up.
Avanda knew she couldn’t have done it without Thorik. She needed him. He had saved her more than once. Without giving it another thought, she gave him a quick unexpected kiss. “Thank you.”
Thorik was slightly unsure how to respond. “Not now.” The serious jeopardy they were still in required their full attention. Looking at her disappointed response to his words, he realized he could have said something more tactful. “We’re not out of this yet. I’ll give you that kiss when we’re actually free.”
“Agreed.” She rolled off of him and they immediately began to run from the demon’s throne and into the maze.
Chapter 8
Escaping from the Underworld
Essence of Gluic Page 8