Essence of Gluic

by Anthony G. Wedgeworth

Two light gray masses of solid stone pierced the sky on either side of the travelers’ path. A thick wall of clouds hung onto the mountain range behind the rock towers, as stray wind-gusts forced long streams of clouds down toward the earth, giving the appearance of an upper set of teeth. Thorik and his friends felt as though they were walking into the mouth of the foreign land itself. Adding to this, the sun painted the underside of the clouds with a red glow as though the valley’s mouth was preparing to blow fire toward them. The ominous scene produced a heightened feeling of apprehension for the Nums.

  Long cracks raced up the smooth sides of the main two cone-shaped towering rocks as water stains coated the areas beneath them. Beyond these two gigantic teeth, the wide path flowed around the various bends in the desert foothills of the mountains. The dirt road and dry riverbed was filled with bristle bushes, while the foothills were covered with red cactus of various sizes. Most were thin and tall with a few arms at their sides and nearly a fifth of them had black flowers crowning their highest point, giving the travelers a feeling of being watched by an audience.

  “It’s like being in the Woodlen coliseum, with thousands of spectators standing in silence.” Avanda was in awe of the number of cacti.

  She was correct, the initial small valley that lay ahead was bowl-shaped as they walked into the center dirt arena. The forest of deep red cactus stood eerily silent as they seemed to watch the group walk past them. Silent, at least until a buzzing caught the attention of all three Nums.

  “Do you hear that?” Thorik asked. Something was alerting him to danger as the hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

  Brimmelle dismissed the noise. “It’s the wind.” But he himself was too uncomfortable to look up at the hillside audience.

  Grewen corrected the Num. “There is no wind.”

  Scanning back and forth, Avanda watched the foothills for movement. “I heard it also.” The idea of the cactus coming to life was magical and she looked forward to seeing how they would uproot themselves to walk.

  Santorray raised his muzzle and sniffed the air. “Quiet.”

  The group came to a halt. Brimmelle kept his head low to avoid seeing anything unpleasant, where as everyone else was on the lookout for movement. As the only one hoping to see something happen, Avanda struggled to stand still.

  Breaking off a few small new branches from the end of his arm, Bryus was more interested in looking for Ergrauthian spices. “That should do nicely.” He then headed for the hills.

  “Bryus, wait for me.” Avanda immediately followed his lead.

  Santorray kept his position as he allowed his senses to determine his surroundings. “The Guardians are coming. We need to move quickly.”

  Thorik was confused. “The Guardians? I thought the two stone teeth we walked between were the Guardians.”

  “No, they are the Guardian’s gate, where none shall pass.”

  Thorik chuckled to himself. “We had no trouble entering. It wasn’t much of a gate.”

  “It’s not to keep us from entering. It is to keep the Guardians from escaping and destroying everything beyond this point. Long ago, a spell had been cast to restrict their living to this narrow mountain range.”

  “How do the Del’Unday cross into the Lake Valley then?”

  “They don’t. That is what has held Ergrauth back from attacking and destroying the humans and Ovs for so long. There has only been a few times that he has been willing to risk this journey.”

  With his body becoming numb, Thorik suddenly rationalized the danger he had put everyone in. “You mean even the demon, Ergrauth, is afraid to pass by the Guardians?”

  “He’s not afraid. He just understands the casualties that come along with doing so. It must be a major play for him to risk the lives of so many of his troops to leave his home valley.”

  Filling the foothills, the buzzing became loud enough for everyone to hear.

  Bryus ran up to the nearest cactus. “Defend yourself, or I shall run you through,” he jested as he stabbed his wooden arm into the thick stalk of the red cactus.

  Avanda skidded to a halt as she witnessed a thick flume of red dust spray out from the hole in the plant and onto the Alchemist. Avoiding the cloud, she could hear Bryus cough from within it.

  “Don’t let the spice hit the ground,” Bryus choked out, as the cloud slowly faded. “Grab the glass jars from my pouch.”

  Red spice began to pour out of the cactus, as Avanda collected the glass containers and placed the open mouth of one under the stream. A fragrance of fruit accompanied the spice which poured out over Bryus’ wooden arm and into the jar.

  Avanda completed her fill, pulled the jar back, and turned to face the Alchemist. In his face, she could see the pain from his ordeal, but unfortunately she didn’t know where it was coming from. “What’s wrong?”

  His face was turning red as he attempted to pull his arm out of the cactus. It had punctured the plant easily but was now caught inside it. To make matters worse, the hole was reducing in size around his arm. Soon after stopping the bleeding of red spice, the cactus repaired itself and began squeezing his arm.

  Even though his vision was nearly useless, due to the spice in his eyes, Bryus quickly cast a spell to open the hole back up. But nothing came of it, for the spice had protective properties. He then performed a spell on his arm. It too, was coated by spice, preventing any success. The man was trapped as his arm continued to be squeezed.

  Without thinking, Bryus placed a sandal up on the cactus for leverage to force his arm out. But instead of pushing the cactus away, he screamed in pain from the sharp needles that stabbed through his sandal and foot. Unable to pull his leg free, he was now at the mercy of the others as he began to panic.

  Avanda had closed the top of the glass jar and set it inside her purse, before running behind him. Hugging him from the back, she pulled him as hard as she could as Bryus screamed in pain.

  “It’s not going to work,” Bryus yelled. “We need to mix some of the black spice with the red spice to neutralize it so my spell will work.”

  “Where do I get the black spice from?”

  “The pollen from the flowers on top of the cactus.”

  Avanda looked up at the desert plants, which had crowns of flowers at their peaks. Bryus’ cactus had none, but others nearby did. The shortest ones were easily three times her height. She wouldn’t have given it a second thought if it had been a tree, but the thick needles on these cacti provided her with a greater challenge. “Grewen!” she yelled to the Mognin.

  Meanwhile, Thorik had been standing with Santorray as they watched the other hillside. “The buzzing is getting louder, but I can’t tell from where.”

  Just as the words sprung from his lips, movement could be seen coming over one of the hills. It was a dark tornado growing toward the sky as its base climbed the foothill on the gray cloudy day. However, this tornado was not connected to the clouds themselves as it moved over the terrain directly toward the travelers.

  “The Guardians approach,” Santorray growled.

  A second tornado appeared behind it and then a third from the opposite side of the road.

  Not willing to stay long enough to understand exactly what was approaching, Thorik yelled out to his team. “Grewen, pull Bryus free! We’re making a run for it!”

  As the closest tornado approached, it became clear that the dark flowing mass was actually tens of thousands of fist-sized flying insects, all utilizing the heat from the desert floor to swirl around in a collective group around a larger insect which stayed in the center.

  Swarming around their queen, each insect rapidly flapped its wings in order to stay in formation. Red and black external skeletons covered their thin bodies and long thin legs, as each appendage came to a sharp point.

  The queen in the center of each gathering was easily ten times the size of those that protected it. Marked with bright yellow streaks, the red insect had extra pinchers in front to help it slay its victims, assuming anyt
hing could make it past its army.

  A fourth tornado of insects was spotted as the first three closed in on them.

  Grewen had already arrived and wrapped his oversized hand around Bryus’ wooden arm, tugging it slightly to free it from the cactus. It wouldn’t budge.

  “Stop playing with it and give it a quick yank,” Bryus ordered.

  Following his instructions, the Mognin made a swift pull. Bryus’ body folded up around Grewen’s hand from the violent thrust, which freed the cactus from the ground instead of the wooden arm from the cactus.

  “You idiot!” Bryus protested, nursing a bloody nose from his face slapping into the side of Grewen’s hand. “Can’t you do anything right? Put me down.” One of his feet dangled in the air, while the other was still pinned to the cactus.

  “My apologies.” The giant chuckled as he let go of the man’s arm. The weight of the uprooted cactus catapulted Bryus forward as the plant tumbled to the ground. “Anything else?”

  It was at this point that Thorik and Brimmelle arrived. Anxious to escape the mountain pass before the Guardians arrived, Thorik whipped around to keep a bearing on their advancement. “What’s the hold up?” Thorik asked quickly.

  Bryus looked up from the painful predicament and noticed the swarms. His face twitched at the sight. “Avanda! Get the black spice. Hurry!”

  “No, we have to free you first,” she said.

  The Alchemist was appalled. “Are you insane? We may only have one chance at cleansing Varacon of Gluic’s soul. We must restore him.”

  Avanda disagreed and moved toward him, but was stopped by his thrashing about with his free arm. “You can’t free me without the black spice. Get the spice first,” he ordered her.

  “Spice?” Brimmelle complained. “We need to make a run for it.”

  The swarms were closing in and there was no time to argue. “Grewen.” Avanda handed the Mognin an empty glass jar. “Put some pollen from those flowers into this while we help Bryus.”

  Delicately taking the small container between two of his massive fingers, he stepped over to a cactus with a full crown of black flowers. Each had long sharp needles protecting it, and the access to the flower itself was too small for the Mognin’s thick fingers. Trying, anyway, the needles pricked his fingers time and time again. Even with his thick skin, the suffering was tremendous for each needle gave off a painful poison.

  Thorik and Avanda continued to pull at Bryus’ wooden arm in an effort to free it from the fallen cactus. But without any leverage to holding the cactus in place, they ended up dragging the heavy plant nearly a foot before realizing it was pointless.

  The first swarm was now in striking distance as it approached the group.

  Brimmelle had been keeping his attention on the Guardians. “They’re coming! Drop what you have and run!”

  “Avanda,” Grewen said, “my fingers are too large. I will have to lift you to do this.”

  Looking down at the lack of progress with Bryus, she saw the Alchemist’s nod of approval to leave. She didn’t think twice, as she bolted from her position and over to Grewen.

  She had climbed up on Grewen so many times in the past, that they knew how to get her up high in the least amount of time. Plucking the jar from him, she began scooping out black powder from the center of the flowers.

  The Guardians attacked.

  Testing their opponents, only a few dozen insects flew from the swirling swarm. The first was on Grewen and Avanda as they used the sharp ends of their legs to stab their victims.

  Grewen took the majority of the attacks, as his free hand swatted away any that came close to Avanda.

  The insects’ abrupt diving at her nearly caused Avanda to drop the jar more than once, but her confidence in Grewen kept her focused on her task.

  Thorik and Bryus were also now under attack as they swung their arms out to protect themselves. Thorik rolled away from attacks and kicked the giant insects off of Bryus, but they simply couldn’t keep up. More began to show up. One firmly landed on Thorik’s back and stabbed him deep into the shoulder. Another landed on Bryus and drove a sharp leg into his side.

  Brimmelle was not immune from the attack, as he fought off one of the insects by swinging his hands wildly in front of it to shoo it off.

  Grewen struggled more and more to fend off their attacks on the little Num he held near the cactus. He had taken extensive injuries as he spent no time trying to protect himself. Over a dozen had landed on his body and begun to dig into his thick skin. “I think it’s time you get down now. It’s getting too dangerous for you.”

  “Just a little longer.” She attempted to scrape off enough black spice from the flowers to fill her jar.

  A second wave of Guardians were launched from the swarm.

  Brimmelle screamed at the sight. “We’re doomed!”

  Thorik knew that they couldn’t possibly defend themselves from this new threat. Bryus was immovable, while Grewen and Brimmelle simply couldn’t outrun them. He and Avanda had the only chance of survival, assuming they abandoned their friends, and he couldn’t fathom them doing such a thing.

  SNAP!

  The sound caused Thorik to turn and see Santorray stepping on Bryus’ wooden arm. He had snapped it in half and freed the Alchemist from the cactus. “Use Rummon!” he barked at Thorik. Holding the cactus at bay with the broken-off piece of Bryus’ arm, he tore Bryus’ foot from the needles, which held it.

  Bryus screamed in pain. Ignoring the Alchemist’s agony, Santorray tossed him over his shoulder. “Grewen, take her down this instant!” the Blothrud bellowed.

  His powerful voice was enough to rattle Avanda and cause her to lean back from the cactus, indicating to Grewen that it was time to take her down. In doing so, he turned and lumbered down the hill back to the road with her in his arms, swatting the attacking insects along the way.

  Thorik pulled out the Spear of Rummon and grasped it in both of his hands while pointing it up at the swarm. Feeling the heat radiate from within the spear, he knew the dragon’s soul was ready to do the Num’s bidding. To his relief, the insects began breaking off their attack.

  Brimmelle fell to the ground as his single insect opponent dove toward his face and grabbed onto his head. Its back legs lifted into the air in prep to thrust down into the Num’s throat.

  Reaching down with his free hand, Santorray grabbed the insect on Brimmelle’s face and squeezed it tight, popping it in an explosion of black pus. The insect’s arms fell as the Num’s mouth, nose and eyes were coated with the insect’s remains.

  Brimmelle was horrified. In some way he almost wished the Blothrud hadn’t helped him.

  Picking up Brimmelle and tossing him over his other shoulder, Santorray ran down the hillside, back to the dirt road.

  Following his friends, Thorik made his way to the dirt road, but not to safety. The swarm had followed them down the hillside and blocked their path. In addition, the other three tornado-like swarms had also arrived and blocked any other path to escape.

  Thorik lifted the spear up toward the swarm in front of him, causing them to withdraw. But in doing so, the other three swarms moved in from behind. Retreating the spear, he then pointed it at another swarm. It too, withdrew. But again, the others advanced.

  Each and every second that went by, tens of thousands of Guardians moved closer to their prey. Thorik glanced at Grewen and Santorray for options. They gave him none.

  Chapter 42

  Captured