Soul Forge Saga Box Set

by Richard Stephens

  “Tsk, tsk,” Alhena clucked.

  She wanted to throttle him. Instead she bit her lip, awaiting the inevitable.

  “Without a carefully laid plan, you will not get within a league of Helleden. He will know you are coming. Unless you or Sadyra have figured out a way to shoot an arrow that far, you will need someone who can bypass his wards. Seeing as magic users are hard to come by nowadays, I am thinking your little band of assassins will require the help of a certain wizard, hmm?”

  Up the Slither

  Karvus Kraken’s eyes widened at the burning sensation on his ring finger. A magic user was nearby. With any luck, they had found the witch. He had a score to settle with her and that arrogant companion of hers. He grasped Tygra Keen’s forearm to stop him, his other hand holding a shushing finger to his lips.

  He pulled Tygra off the Slither—the roadway connecting northern Zephyr to the southern reaches of the Kraidic empire—and crouched beneath a thicket laden with snow.

  He cursed under his breath. What was the use of hiding; their tracks were clearly visible in the snow.

  The tingling on his finger subsided almost as soon as it had come. Whoever the ring detected was moving farther away. Odd, the Slither was the only path linking the two kingdoms together. As far as he knew, there weren’t any settlements along the northern tract. If he had his bearings correct, Redfire Path still lay a few days west of their present position. With no tracks on the roadway ahead, that either meant the magic user had detected their presence and turned around, or they had left the Slither altogether.

  Karvus stepped back onto the roadway. Taking a quick glance the way they had come—their passage clearly visible—he broke into a jog, following the Serpent’s Eye westward. The sensation emitted by the ring was barely noticeable as the eye flicked open and shut.

  He picked up his pace. Tygra’s boots sounded rhythmically behind him. He appreciated his aide’s quiet loyalty. Tygra, a man of few words, never questioned Karvus’ actions; the man was a shadow—always there but never in the way. The Serpent’s Eye tingled with a bit more consistency. They were closing on their quarry.

  The Slither crested and dropped away southward. Karvus came to a sudden stop, forcing Tygra to take drastic measures to keep from running into him. Holding his hand out, the Serpent’s Eye pointed due west. That didn’t make sense.

  From their vantage point, the Slither meandered southwest through barren countryside for many leagues. Karvus figured the Serpent’s Eye was limited to no more than two leagues at best. If he was right about its limitations, whoever they tracked weren’t travelling up the Slither—at least not anymore. The magic user the ring had detected was trekking through the wooded area north of the roadway.

  He wasn’t sure how to proceed. Travel farther down the Slither, hoping to locate the spot the magic user left the road, or cut across the rugged countryside with the expectation of cutting the person off—all the while chancing he and Tygra might come across a stretch of unnavigable terrain.

  The tingling of the ring abated. Without another thought, his boots broke the crusty snow north of the Slither.

  Silurian’s horse picked its way up the windswept slope, its hoof falls precise and never slipping. Whoever trained this horse had done an amazing job. Being a Kraidic beast, the horse would be accustomed to inclement weather.

  He hazarded a glance behind him. Melody’s rosy cheeks dimpled as she smiled back at him.

  Returning her smile, he thought of the adventures they had gotten themselves into whenever they were together. If not climbing mountains, they were usually navigating the warrens beneath the heights. “Are you sure we’re going the right way? We’re heading back into the mountains.”

  “I’m not sure of anything. I’m following the rune.”

  Silurian nodded and turned his attention forward. They had left their childhood farm two days earlier, following the directions their mother’s apparition had given them. ‘Travel east, up the Slither, and descend into the bowels of the earth. Seek out the Gimcrack. At its bottom lies the Tang Stone. It may be the key to your salvation.’

  What did that even mean—the key to their salvation? He wasn’t convinced they should trust the vision. Who knew what tricks Helleden was capable of?

  The last thing Silurian wanted was to lead the sorcerer to another source of ancient magic. The Grimward had assured them not to worry about the future of the earth blood fount. Silurian had no idea what that meant. The last time he saw the Grimward, the old spectre wasn’t doing well.

  Another of the runes on Melody’s staff had turned red earlier in the day. In fact, it was he who had noticed it while riding behind her.

  The rune, situated on the opposite side of the staff from the one that had gone black, blinked rapidly. It took her a while to comprehend the significance, but as she rotated the staff in her hand the rune solidified when it pointed northeast. Any other direction, it merely blinked.

  They rode for a while, watching the rune until they reached a point where it indicated they leave the trail. Whatever the Gimcrack was, the staff led them into the deeper snow of the mountains.

  When darkness blanketed the land, the winds diminished and a light flurry fell—the fluffy flakes highlighted by a partially obscured, full moon.

  Silurian scavenged a pile of fallen brush, half of it blackened by Helleden’s recent firestorm.

  Melody had no trouble lighting it with her staff. They sat huddled around its meagre flames lost in their own thoughts.

  Silurian’s mind drifted to dark places he hadn’t experienced since Alhena found him. The extent of Helleden’s destruction disturbed him. Melody’s vision in the flames a few weeks ago had done little to prepare him for the utter devastation Cliff Face had undergone. It was a miracle anyone survived.

  He shook his head. All the death and destruction were a direct result of his failure to deal with Helleden two decades ago. The sorcerer had orchestrated his parents’ murder and the subsequent murder of Siaph and his children. Through his firestorms, Helleden had destroyed an entire kingdom because Silurian hadn’t been strong enough to eradicate the threat.

  His anger mounted. A rage he hadn’t known since Melody rescued him from the cataclysm beneath Iconoclast Spire. He cringed at the sucking vortex that would claim him if he allowed it to fester. He knew the signs all too well.

  A spasm grabbed him. If he permitted his hatred to affect his psyche, he was lost and that was an outcome he wouldn’t accept. Melody’s life depended on him. Luckily, her presence grounded his sanity.

  “What is it?”

  He blinked a couple of times. “Huh? Oh, nothing. Just tired.”

  She gave him her, ‘I know you better than that’ placating smile. “Here, lie on this blanket and get some rest.”

  Silurian did as instructed but sleep eluded him. Lying beside the fire with a blanket over his face to repel the snowflakes, he recalled the world’s lament he had experienced in the Serpent’s Nest. The pressures of the land’s pain weighed heavily upon him.

  Unseen in the darkness, he sensed the mountain rearing up from the ground, awaiting his arrival. Somewhere within its depths they were supposed to locate the means to Zephyr’s salvation. With the way his mental state teetered on a sword’s edge, he doubted he was up to the task.

  Growing up in the mountains, Melody felt right at home as she clung to the edge of a steep rock face trying to avoid the falling debris marking her brother’s progress.

  She hazarded a look down but couldn’t see the horses anymore. They were tethered beneath an unusually healthy tree. As long as she and Silurian weren’t too long, and the weather held, the horses would be fine.

  Snow clinging to the rock surfaces made the climb trickier. A misstep into a drift-covered crevice could prove fatal. Coupled with the snowmelt turned to ice that coated the bare sections, the climb was treacherous.

  “Are you sure that rune points up here? I thought we were supposed to descend into the bowels of the
earth, not climb where the birds dare?”

  Melody looked up in time to get a face full of dislodged snow. She wiped her cheeks on her shoulder, afraid to let go of the handhold she clung to. “Yes. It’s shining brighter than ever. We must be close”

  Silurian pulled himself over the ledge above, his voice faint as he disappeared from view. “Close? There’s nothing up here but—”

  His voice stopped suddenly. Melody wanted to look up but she was pelted by a cascade of dislodged snow. A large chunk whapped the top of her staff, nearly pulling it from her hand.

  When the deluge abated, she shook the remnants from her shoulders and head and climbed, pulling her head over the brink.

  Silurian was gone.

  Into the Cleft

  Melody screamed.

  Below her, the snow slide that had bombarded her crashed into the treetops. She feared for the horses’ safety but she had bigger concerns. If Silurian had been caught in the landslide, he was certainly dead.

  Her blood went cold. It had all happened so fast. One moment he was talking and the next…nothing.

  She clung to the slope unsure what to do. It would take forever to climb back down again. If he hadn’t fallen, she didn’t think she had the strength to make it back up again.

  She swallowed her dread and pulled herself over the edge. In front of her, a dark cleft split the rock face, its edges surrounded by a field of white snow. She crawled on her hands and knees to peer into the crack.

  “Silurian?”

  “Not so loud! You want to cause a bigger avalanche?”

  Startled, Melody lost her grip on the loose snow and scrambled to keep from sliding back to the edge. “Are you down there?”

  “Where else would I be?” Silurian snapped.

  She pulled herself higher to get a better look. “What are you doing down there?”

  “Jousting!”

  Melody frowned.

  “What do you think I’m doing? I fell.”

  “Oh. You’re being funny. Well sor-ry, I don’t find this amusing. Are you hurt?”

  The head of her staff pulsed bright orange, banishing the darkness. Silurian stood at the bottom of a sharp decline on a path that twisted deeper into the rock, disappearing into the darkness below—his stringy black hair stood out in long strands away from his head.

  “My hip is sore, but I think I found Gimcrack.” Silurian muttered, shielding his eyes from the staff. “When you’re done blinding me, why don’t you join me?”

  Melody withdrew the staff head and manoeuvred its base into the cleft. If she rotated it just so, the ruby rune pierced the darkness beyond Silurian.

  Several other runes lit up in orange. She pulled the staff away from the opening and they went out.

  “I think you are right. This must be Gimcrack. Strong wards protect the entrance. You should see your hair.”

  “Ah, that’s what that was? I thought I’d been poleaxed.” He ran his fingers through his hair, flattening it out.

  “From the reaction of my staff, I’m surprised you’re still alive. These aren’t trip sensors, they’re defensive wards. You sure you’re alright?”

  His sigh reached her. “Yes, Mel. I’m fine. A little shaken but I’ve suffered worse.”

  Melody held her staff in the breach and searched the edges of the opening, positioning her legs to drop in. Several runes shone brightly, deflecting the invisible effects of the wards. As she wiggled her body into the opening, trying to hang down as far as possible to minimize the drop, she muttered, “It’s lucky you fell through the opening. You probably wouldn’t have survived if you’d climbed down.”

  “Ya, real lucky,” Silurian grumbled, trying to settle his hair. “Here, I’ll catch you.”

  She jammed her staff into the edges of the hole to slow her descent. The fall was greater than she anticipated but Silurian’s arms reduced her impact sufficiently to keep her from breaking anything. How he hadn’t been killed was a mystery. Perhaps the pile of snow at their feet had saved him.

  She stepped away to brush at her robes. “See? That’s how you enter the Gimcrack with grace.”

  “You’re a riot. Now what?”

  She followed his gaze back up to the daylight. Unless they found a ladder, the trip back out was going to be an issue.

  She forced a smile and pulled her cloak tight to stave off the chill. Willing her staff to illuminate their surroundings she realized they stood within a small cavern. At the far end, a fissure dropped away at a dizzying angle, its walls close enough to allow them to use their arms to brace themselves. The staff’s light didn’t penetrate the inky darkness far beyond where they stood. With any luck, the fissure wouldn’t suddenly open up into nothingness.

  A scream piercing the wilderness a little while ago led them to the horses’ tracks.

  “There.” Karvus pointed at the horses he and Tygra had ridden weeks ago. The same horses the witch and her companion stole from them. The woman claimed to be the Wizard of the North! He almost laughed out loud. Preposterous. A woman? And the people of Zephyr said the Kraidic Empire wasn’t to be trusted.

  The witch appeared to be on foot now. Karvus had no doubt he and Tygra would catch her in no time. Kraidic warriors made a living trekking across rugged, frozen countryside. He doubted the magic user relished such a journey. Nor did her companion appear suited to traipse up a mountainside. Neither of them had any meat on their bones.

  On the far side of the horses, the sign of a recent avalanche grabbed his attention. Two sets of footprints led from the remains of a small campfire to the base of a steep rock face. Surely, they hadn’t scaled the cliff.

  Tygra returned to him after searching the area. “They must’ve climbed.”

  “For the love of the serpent, what would possess them to do that?”

  Tygra shrugged and checked on the horses.

  Karvus craned his neck. The afternoon sun glinted off the heights. He took a swig from his waterskin.

  Tygra joined him. “They’re fine as long as it doesn’t get too cold. Lots of grass around the trees.

  Karvus appreciated his personal aide. Judging by his words, Tygra had already reasoned he was about to climb the mountainside.

  Tygra drew from his own waterskin. “By the freshness of the tracks and horseshit, we are close behind them.”

  Karvus stared at the cliff face. “Excellent. A woman in robes will be easy to hunt down in the mountains. They must’ve slipped over that ridge. I look forward to seeing her fly.”

  Wendglow’s Warning

  Why they had to seek Wendglow’s advice, made Sadyra angry. The longer they tarried in Apexceal, the greater the chance the chambermistress had of getting wind of their plan.

  Alhena had explained to Captain Thorr what they were going to attempt, emphasizing that until everyone in Apexceal were upon the open seas, it was imperative no one else knew of their subterfuge. After the goings on at the Chamber of the Wise, he stressed that Helleden might have spies in Apexceal.

  Why the Voil elder had to be included in the discussion puzzled Sadyra. She’d survived the Under Realm and all of its bizarre occurrences. The portal, Debacle Lurch, the voices, the death of a creature Rook referred to as Seafarer, the showdown with Thetis who just happened to be a monster in disguise, Silurian’s brush with death at the hands of another Voil wizard, and the battle on the Dead Plains—all of it. Although Alhena vouched for Wendglow, Sadyra found it hard to place her trust in the misshapen Voil leader.

  However, she trusted Alhena implicitly. After learning that he had lied about his identity, Alhena had taken great pains to explain the profound reasons for his deception to her and the rest of the ill-fated Under Realm quest. Though most of what he told them didn’t make a lot of sense, Captain Thorr and Rook had sympathized with the old wizard and that was good enough for her.

  “Come on, Pops, we need to get out of here. If Helleden’s army catches us, everything will be lost.”

  A warm breeze blew across the baron�
�s gardens, frolicking in her auburn hair. The moon dropped in the night sky and it wouldn’t be long before the early birds commenced to greet the new day.

  “Aye, Master Alhena. The girl is wise. You must hasten from here at once. The baron will be strained to get everyone out before all hell descends upon the city.” Wendglow raised his bushy eyebrows at Sadyra, his wrinkled face, covered with moles, broke into a toothy grin.

  Sadyra shuddered despite herself—the Voil wizard was loathsome to look upon. His scaly claws clutched a twisted, dark wood cane etched with snarling faces of creatures she had never seen before, nor ever wished to meet.

  Alhena patted Wendglow’s skinny thigh. “Wise is not an attribute I openly admit when describing dear Sadie, but I agree, our time here draws to a close. There is one more thing I must do before we leave.”

  The jibe wasn’t lost on her, but she was in no mood to respond. “You’d better make it quick.”

  The garden gate squealed open. Sadyra jumped, a dagger in her hand faster than anyone present could register.

  Two elderly women approached bearing a steaming bowl of what appeared to be water and a set of straight-edged knives.

  “Sadyra, no!” Alhena’s stern voice commanded. “They are here for me.”

  Sadyra barely resisted cutting the woman closest to her.

  “It is high time I shaved.”

  Sadyra blinked at the daft, old man. “Shave? Helleden’s demon horde is about to crash the gates and you need to shave?”

  Alhena offered a demure smile. “One should always look their best when travelling with auspicious company. I need you to gather the others and bring them here. Be sure to obtain heavier clothing.”

  Sadyra was reluctant to leave him alone but she respected Alhena’s prowess. He wouldn’t go down easy.

  Alhena motioned with his hand for her to leave. “By the time you return I shall be ready.”