by Chad Corrie
world—the limits of their might . . . We can and
shall be greater. We are dranors and shall reign forever!
—Marat, last king of the dranors
“You sure he knows where he’s going?” Vinder watched Dugan hacking a path through the jungle.
“Yes.” Rowan walked beside the dwarf. A few paces behind them, Alara swatted flies and mosquitoes while guiding Gilban through the twisted vines and roots that constantly threatened his balance. He was managing surprisingly well without his staff. Behind them was Cadrissa and then five Celetors at their rear.
“You know, they could be leading us into a trap.” Vinder observed the Celetors from over his shoulder.
“Then they’re sure taking their sweet time with it,” Cadrissa grumbled. She hadn’t been this miserable in all her life. The terrain was grinding heavily upon her. At this point, she was seriously considering turning around and putting this “adventure” behind her as quickly as possible. The sole, if small, consolation was she was closer now to the end than the beginning. Turning back now would actually take longer than seeing things through and heading back with whatever insight and fortune she’d amassed. It wasn’t much in the way of motivation, but it worked.
“Nalu said we’re almost there.” Rowan stayed fixed on the path.
“I’ve heard that before,” Vinder huffed.
“Just be patient,” Alara counseled. “We’ll get there soon enough.”
“I’ll be happy when this forest starts thinning out again,” Dugan grumbled as the sweat ran in rivers from his temples.
“Nalu should be back soon,” said Rowan. “Maybe he’s found a better way ahead.”
“Can you see anything?” Alara asked Dugan.
“Nothing but more trees and vines,” he grunted, continuing his work. “Not even a game trail.”
Alara wiped her brow with her sleeve. “Then I guess we can’t do much else but wait for Nalu to return.”
“If he comes back,” Vinder muttered into his beard.
“The way is not much farther and is clear of all danger,” said Nalu, suddenly appearing beside Dugan. One moment there was nothing, and the next, there he stood.
“How can you move through all this so easily?” he asked, amazed.
Nalu grinned. “It is not as easy as you might think.”
“Well, you sure make it look easy.”
“So how much farther we got now?” asked Vinder, swatting away some flies.
“We’re almost there.”
“Almost there.” A sardonic smile accompanied the small nod. “Great.”
“Patience,” Alara admonished, helping Gilban over an unevenly cleared section of ground. “Just be patient.” Gilban smiled at the comment.
Taking her advice, the others fell silent. Left with her thoughts, Cadrissa trudged through the jungle, following Nalu’s lead and Dugan’s sword strikes. A short while later, just as she was convinced there was no end to the choking greenery and sweltering heat, they came upon a large, hacked-out clearing. The sight was all the more unsettling when they saw burn marks everywhere. The scorched earth led toward a towering mass of pitted stones and mortar. It was a sign of concerted effort by a group of people—and a recent one. The clearing snaked around the half-crumbled outer walls, away from the deep forest, which was winning the war of dominance against the ancient city.
“Everyone, be on your guard.” Alara kept her voice low. “Gilban?” She found the seer with his eyes closed, standing in focused concentration.
“It’s still here.” His voice was barely a whisper.
“Then we have no time to waste.”
“Look.” Vinder pointed at the ruins’ skyline. Thin trails of smoke were rising from the interior.
Alara searched the horizon. “Well, we know they’re still here.”
“You didn’t want it to be too easy, did you?” Dugan rolled his shoulders, apparently preparing for whatever came next.
“There’s some powerful energy beyond the walls too,” said Cadrissa. “It might be wise if we act as secretive as possible until we’ve assessed the whole situation.”
“Agreed,” said Alara. “Do you know of a way into the city that might not be guarded?” she asked Nalu.
He nodded. “I will take you to an area just behind the wall, but I will guide you no farther. Once I have taken you beyond, your lives are no longer in my hands.”
“It will be enough.” Gilban motioned for Alara’s hand.
Together they slowly neared the city, Nalu scampering ahead, silently pointing to a large hole in the wall. The others followed, keeping constant vigil. Only Cadrissa took time to fully enjoy the view. To the untrained eye, it appeared as nothing more than a ruined wall, but to her it was a treasure trove of stories from long ago, when a different people lived on Tralodren—a people whose very commands brought forth miraculous wonders. A race who crafted a mighty empire with their willpower and magical might but were not, it seemed, immune to the power of Asorlok and time.
She couldn’t believe she was finally entering a dranoric city! She wanted to stop and catalog it all, but time was against her. All she could do was stare at the old rock in earnest, occasionally running a hand along the pitted stones as she hurried behind the others. Oh, to have just an hour at her disposal . . .
Together they approached the hole, peering into an opening that burrowed through fifteen feet of rock and mortar. Immediately beyond was nothing more than fallen stone and the ruined shells of buildings. Beyond those, more solid-looking structures were visible.
To the north, Cadrissa saw two rows of four black obelisks rising from the jungle, each growing more complete until the fourth and final obelisks stretched a full twenty feet into the air. From where she stood, the ancient pillars could have easily been old burned tree trunks polished into a dull shine—out of place and intriguing. The east was littered with rough tents interspersed with rougher stone houses made out of salvaged debris. Small fires peppered the terrain with meat and other victuals roasting on low, smoky flames. The fires, though, were too far away to see who and how many tended them, but it was clear there were more than just a handful of people inhabiting the place.
“That’s a lot of hobgoblins.” Dugan stated the obvious.
“Just be as silent as you can. We need to get around the dwellings and into the center of the city,” said Alara. “Gilban believes that’s where we’ll find the information.”
“That’s still a lot of hobgoblins.” Cadrissa put on the best face she could even though she felt the blood draining from her cheeks and heart, pooling into her stomach.
“I must go, my friend.” Nalu clasped Rowan’s hand as the others decided on their next step.
“I understand,” he replied. “You’ve helped us as best you could. Thank you, and may Panthora smile upon you.”
“I will pray to Panthora to grant you success.” Nalu waved goodbye. Rowan returned the gesture, watching him join the other Celetors.
“Ready?” Alara asked Rowan once he’d rejoined them.
“I was when I left Valkoria,” he replied, ignoring Vinder’s eye roll.
Moving as one, they stealthily glided past the decaying dwellings, all the while assessing the extent of their opposition.
“There must be well over three hundred there alone,” Vinder said a hair above a whisper.
“Shut up!” Cadrissa hissed. “Do you want to get us killed?” The largest of the congregation was just a few yards from them.
But none of the hobgoblins appeared to hear them. They were too busy ravenously devouring their cooked meat. The mercenaries trekked farther inward, pausing only when a strange, eerie darkness—birthed out of thick, pitch-colored clouds centered on the heart of the ruins—fought for ownership of the afternoon sky. The black cumulus blanket fell fast upon them, absorbing all light. The strange phenomenon wasn’t lost on either mercenary or hobgoblin—both taking in the development with growing unease.
“Those c
louds aren’t natural,” Cadrissa whispered from behind Dugan. She could feel something behind their formation. Something that made her skin crawl.
“What’s causing it?” Vinder observed the dark mass with growing concern.
“Nothing good, I’m sure,” said Dugan. “But it can help mask us from the others.”
“We should hurry.” Cadrissa shivered. “I don’t like any of this.”
“Nor I,” Gilban concurred.
They reached the interior of the complex using small puddles of light from the campfires and torches as guideposts. And as Dugan had said, the darkness not only helped cloak them from sight but provided a distraction for the hobgoblins, allowing them more freedom of movement.
Eventually, the group stood before two large buildings. One had been rebuilt with thick fortifications; the other was only partially completed. The two structures dominated the area like giants poised for a confrontation, overwhelming everything with their cold façades. A few hobgoblian guards—distracted by the growing darkness—patrolled the perimeter with leashed reptilian beasts that observed the area with sluggish glances.
“Basilisks,” she whispered. The beasts’ dog-like bodies were covered in thick, dark green scales, and their feet ended in deadly claws. “Don’t let them bite you. Their saliva carries a toxin causing paralysis, leading to death. It’s led to legends of them being able to turn people to stone.”
“Pleasant thought,” Vinder murmured.
“But they also have poor eyesight.” She continued her short lesson. “So as long as we stay a fair distance from them, we should be fine.”
“We’re upwind too,” Dugan added. “That should help. How well do they hear?”
“Fair enough, but their strongest sense is smell. They taste from the air.”
“Then let’s get moving while the wind’s in our favor,” Vinder advised.
Alara nodded. “Agreed.”
“All right,” said Dugan, “but which building? They’re both well guarded.”
Alara watched Gilban. Cadrissa did the same. “What we seek has no supernatural or magical properties—they’re just scrolls and tomes of rare knowledge,” Gilban whispered, “but they might be guarded by some powerful enchantments.”
“Can you find where the magic is strongest?” Alara asked Cadrissa.
“I think so.” She took in the whole scene carefully. Both structures were well repaired, except for a crumbled section of masonry on the southwest corner of the closest building. Double stone doors appeared to be the only entrance, and those had two rather mean and vigilant hobgoblins standing guard. The other building was a semipreserved structure with some of the original stained glass windows on the north and south sides remaining in place. It resembled some kind of temple. Frescoes and mosaics of long ago still clung to parts of the walls, while others littered the ground in crumbled shards. The temple also had a set of double doors. These, though, were unguarded.
Alara drew closer. “Is something wrong?”
“I can’t tell which building has the strongest amount of magic in it.” She shook her head. “It could be either one.”
“Can you make a guess?” Alara pressed. “This darkness will make it impossible to see much of anything soon enough.”
Something pulled at the back of her mind like cold claws, frosting her thoughts with their arctic touch. She forced herself to focus harder on the present—she couldn’t afford any distractions.
“Cadrissa?”
“That one.” She discovered she’d pointed out the building with the hole in the wall without thinking.
“Right. Now how are we going to take them?” Vinder studied the two guards. “There could be more inside. If we raise the alarm, we have a whole horde ready to come down on us.”
“I have just the thing.” Cadrissa dug out a handful of crushed quartz from a pouch at her side, thankful it still remained, unlike the rest of her possessions. She threw it at the others while chanting the ancient words she’d burned into memory.
“What are you doing?” Rowan fearfully watched himself and the others fade from sight.
“I’ve made us invisible.” She threw another small handful of dust on herself and faded along with them.
“I can’t see anyone!” Rowan’s concern rose well above a whisper. “I can’t even see myself!”
“Keep your voice down!” she cautioned. “It makes us invisible, not noiseless! Just as the spell makes us invisible to the hobgoblins, it also makes us invisible to each other.”
“But how will we be able to follow each other if we can’t see ourselves?” asked Alara. “We could get separated and not even know it.”
“Don’t worry. I have a spell to solve that too. Golrin hectin pressa.” Instantly, they could see their hands, limbs, and each other once more—though all were translucent, like ghosts.
“How long will we be invisible?” Vinder inspected his hands, waving them madly in front of his face as if the action would return their opacity.
“Not long—only a few hours—but it should give us enough time to locate the information and hopefully get out of here.”
“Then we need to be quick,” said Dugan.
“And thorough,” Alara added. “It’d be easier if we just slip into the building through that hole in the corner.” She indicated the broken southwest corner of the building. “Vinder, you cover our backs. Dugan and Rowan will lead us in, and the rest will follow in the middle.”
Cadrissa watched Dugan and Rowan slowly approach the hole. Upon closer view, she could see it had been caused by faulty masonry. Fresh stone was stacked near the damaged wall, which she assumed meant the hobgoblins were still at work on it. Thankfully, not today. Dugan waved the others forward as he and Rowan snuck inside.
Once inside the building’s walls, the air turned stifling. Most of the heat from the jungle followed them in, making it feel as if they were climbing into the carcass of a freshly slaughtered beast. The light from outside was nearly gone, creating illumination equal to a starless night. This hindered any chance of looking through the area in much detail. The interior was fairly large and blissfully empty. The only change to the bleak stone walls was a door made of new wood, located at the north end of the room.
“I’ll check it out.” Rowan crept close and put his ear against the wood. “I’m going to open it a crack. Everyone, be ready.” The hinges were well oiled and didn’t squeak as he peeked through the sliver he allowed between door and frame. “It looks like a hallway. There’s some light from a few sconces, and it branches into two directions a few feet in.”
“Well?” Alara asked Gilban.
“Saredhel’s insight ebbs,” said the priest. “This is where each of you must rise to your own strengths.” He pointed to Cadrissa, who still found the pinpoint accuracy of the action eerie. “Ask Cadrissa. She knows far more right now than me.”
Not enjoying all the questioning stares, she closed her eyes. The excitement of all the potential knowledge surrounding them nearly overwhelmed her. She needed to be sure and firmly set on what they were looking for. Focusing her will on a spell of detection, she saw two paths . . . Yes . . . One was more dangerous . . . Which one, though? It wasn’t clear. Something was blocking her attempts to read more. But she had to choose quickly. From what she’d already seen, she wouldn’t be surprised if the hobgoblins had a patrol set up in the building. And if they had basilisks outside, what might be inside?
“The path to the northwest looks the best, as far as safety is concerned.” She opened her eyes. It was the best she could do. Hopefully it’d be enough.
Chapter 27
Whatever you yield to will soon enough make you its slave.
But if you must bow do so only long enough to plot your revolt,
lest you learn to like shackles more than a crown.
—The Manual of Might
“But what do we do?” Ranak asked the other subchieftains gathered around Boaz’s throne, their troubled features racked with
concern. “We can’t afford to wait much longer.”
“I meant what I told him,” said Boaz. “We’re done paying tribute. When the Celetors are gone, it will be a perfect opportunity to show him his time here is over.”
“But he isn’t going to leave.” Kaden stressed what no one else would openly admit. “We’re in the same place we were before. Unless we deal with the column.”
“Maybe worse than before,” Morro added. “That is, if it’s true—what I’ve been hearing of Valan growing more unhinged.”
“So we bought some time and have nothing to show for it.” Ranak’s gloomy assessment wasn’t acknowledged but wasn’t disputed either.
“Why not send the whole chamber crashing in on him?” asked Nalis. “Be done with all of it?”
“How would we do that without giving him warning?” asked Kaden. “We’d have to weaken the floor, and with pick and shovel pounding we’d be sure to give ourselves away.”
“Then it’s back to destroying the column,” Elek said with a sigh.
“It’s better than trying to shove Valan in it”—Kaden shot Nalis a knowing look—“though we’d still have to face off with him.”
“Not unless we coaxed him away from it.” Nalis’ face shone a bit brighter with the idea.
“With what?” Kaden’s skepticism brought them back to reality. “And if he’s really close to madness, our ruse might cause more harm than good.”
“Poison,” Ranak blurted out.
“I don’t even know if he eats,” said Morro. “And even if he did, how would we get it to him? And even then, would it kill him?”
“Hadek.” When they heard Kaden’s suggestion, the countenances of the others darkened. “He could get close enough to pass it on. And Valan trusts him.”
“But do we?” Boaz’s question silenced the room.
A moment later a hobgoblin burst through the doors. “Valan’s gone mad!” the warrior shouted between heaving gulps of breath. “He’s taking any hobgoblin he can find and putting them into the column!”