Legends of the Lurker Box Set

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Legends of the Lurker Box Set Page 86

by Richard H. Stephens


  Devius illuminated the way with his staff—the ambient glow casting them in an ethereal cocoon of light. Several times throughout the first two days they heard the distinct noise of something moving around the caverns—a skittering of claws on stone, always seeming just beyond the limited range of his staff. Reecah had suggested throwing a fireball toward whatever lived down there, hoping to scare them off but Devius objected.

  “As long as they aren’t hindering us, there’s no need to rile them up.”

  “What are they?”

  He had shrugged and carried on.

  Reecah was positive he knew and didn’t want to tell her.

  Feeling the effects of using her arms to brace herself against the walls of the steep sloping rifts in the rock to keep her from falling to her death, she stopped where the path levelled out wide enough for Devius to stand beside her.

  “How much farther?”

  “Can you not feel it?”

  She frowned.

  “Hell’s furnace.”

  “Ahh. That’s what that is. I thought it was this tunic.”

  “A Windwalker must be more perceptive than that. You must continually search your senses if you wish to find, or avoid, important things along your journey. Trust your instincts above all others. Your dragon magic has the ability to allow you to perceive things mere humans cannot.”

  “You make me sound like an animal.”

  “That’s not a bad thing, my child. Embrace your gift. Stop viewing it as something that sets you apart. Like it or not, you’ll never again fit into society. From what you told me of your childhood, you never have.”

  She couldn’t argue with that. She had always been different. From as far back as she could remember, she had never fit in with her peers. Something had always come up and alienated her from forming a true friendship with anyone. She believed the fault had been her own. Living way up on the side of the mountain away from the townsfolk, coupled with her propensity to take exception to anyone who even remotely seemed like they were ridiculing her, hadn’t endeared her to many people.

  Changing the subject, she asked, “Can you help me with my fireball spell?”

  “Certainly. What’s wrong with it?”

  “This.” She conjured a small ball of flames; the shape so compact it appeared smooth. “I can’t make it any bigger. When I try, I’m unable to concentrate on anything going on around me.”

  “Serious spells require serious concentration.”

  “To the point that I can’t operate without tripping over my own feet? What good is a fireball if I can’t pay attention to my surroundings? My enemies aren’t going to wait for me to blast them.”

  “That would make life much easier.”

  Reecah ignored him, focusing her concentration on her fiery spell. With a grunt and a sigh of resignation, the fireball sputtered and went out.

  “You see?”

  “What happened?”

  “I tried to concentrate harder and force the flames into a bigger ball.”

  “That’s the root of your problem. You’re trying too hard.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Devius tapped her forehead. “Everything you need to know is in here.”

  He tapped the strap of her baldric over her chest. “But your strength will always come from here.”

  “Huh?”

  “You’re new to this. Give it time. What would take years and decades to teach an acolyte, by virtue of the gift that was hidden from you for so long, you already possess the wisdom to conjure spells more formidable than anything I could ever dream of.”

  Goosebumps flushed her skin at the ramifications of Devius’ statement. “But you’re the high wizard. Surely, I couldn’t begin to match you.”

  “Ah, that’s the crux of the matter. Doubt plays havoc within you. Until you learn to trust yourself, you will never realize your true potential. You’re more powerful than you know. Trust yourself, and the world will learn to fear you.”

  She swallowed. She didn’t want anyone to fear her. All this talk of her latent prowess was too much to take in. Devius’ words struck a chord with her, however. She had always been filled with self doubt.

  When Poppa died, it was as if she’d been orphaned all over again. It seemed silly at the time. She had never known her real parents, but she knew of them. She had heard stories of her parents from the village children. None of them good.

  Devius placed a withered hand on her shoulder. “Come. It’s time we brought Grimelda’s staff to life.”

  Not waiting for a response, he took the lead, hobbling into another narrow passageway.

  Reecah hurried after him. “How do you know where you’re going?”

  “Ah. That’s something that’s learned with age. Though my staff will never carry the same clout as yours, it has attuned itself to me over the years. It has the ability to seek out strong magical sources such as earth blood.”

  “Earth blood?”

  “Hah! You have much to learn.”

  She kept close behind him, listening intently, but he never elaborated. The heat in the tight space grew considerably—her tunic hung off her like a wet towel.

  Rounding a bend, the dim light of Devius’ staff was overpowered by an orange glow coming from somewhere up ahead.

  “We’re almost there. Give me your staff,” Devius said above a gurgling noise that rose in volume as they walked.

  Reecah handed him her staff.

  “We need to make this quick. Stay well back of the pool. Do not…” he stopped and looked her directly in the eye, “Do not follow me to the edge.”

  She wanted to ask what he was talking about but he hurried around the next bend and out of sight.

  Chasing after him, the tunnel opened upon a vast chamber—its stalactite infested roof lost in shadows cast by a roiling pool of lava. A molten river entered the cavern on their right, swirled about a central pit, and disappeared through a yawning aperture on their left.

  A blast of heat, so intense Reecah feared her skin would melt, hit her full in the face. The entire scene was astounding but not nearly as much as the sight of Devius approaching the magma pool with his face hidden behind a forearm.

  Oozing swirls of lava bubbled and popped, pushed by a slow current through the chamber.

  Reecah took a few steps away from the tunnel’s egress.

  Devius staggered to the edge of the flowing river of melted rock and looked back. “Reecah, no! It’s too dangerous!”

  She stopped and stared, wondering how he withstood the incredible heat.

  Confronting the floe, his lips moved but she couldn’t hear the magical words he intoned. A gasp caught in her throat as Devius immersed the bottom of her staff into the sputtering lava.

  A bubble formed near his feet and popped, splattering his robes with magma, but he never flinched. Smoke wafted along the length of Grimelda’s staff.

  “Devius, no!” She took a couple of hesitant steps toward him. He was destroying her aunt’s talisman. The extreme temperature radiating from the river heated the grey suede of her tunic; its outer surface too hot to touch.

  The red aurora of the cavern gave way to a bright flash of blue light so intense it illuminated the distant rooftop. She thought the light must have been Devius’ doing, but shielding her eyes from the glare, she realized it emanated from the Dragon’s Eye embedded in the head of Grimelda’s staff. Squinting against the hurtful glare, runes of many different designs came to life along the length of the staff. Runes that hadn’t been there before.

  Devius was doing it. He was infusing her staff with the ancient magic of the earth. What that meant for her, she hadn’t the faintest idea, but she imagined it to be something great.

  She stepped backward into the tunnel to get away from the heat.

  Behind her, a guttural growl raised the hairs on the back of her neck.

  A small fireball coalesced over her palm as she turned to face the creature that had been stalking them.


  Snaring a Traitor

  Swampland as far as the eye could see. J’kwaad hated everything about the fetid marsh that ran the length of Zephyr’s substantial eastern border. Hidden bogs and sinkholes kept his army mired in muck. More often than not the horses had to be walked across the spongy terrain lest they sink to their haunches or twist a leg.

  Insects he never knew existed harassed them during their excruciatingly slow progress, leaving everyone in a foul mood. If anything, the biting, buzzing pests helped spur the troops on as they attempted to get past them.

  “Are you certain this is the best way across this kraken whore of a place?”

  Surrounded by grumbling cavalrymen on foot, leading their mounts around the worst of the quagmires, Calor answered in an even tone. “According to the foot commander, the scouts are finding the most direct route. The last report from our eyes in the enemy camp had them planning to leave Carillon this morning. Providing there is no more unrest from the local inhabitants, we should head off the duke’s forces before they reach the Wilds.”

  “What of the supply wagons and ballistae?”

  “They veered east a while ago as ordered. With any luck, they’ll be clear of this muck before the morn and will rendezvous with us before we turn toward Draak Home.

  J’kwaad grunted. Unseen setbacks. They had no sooner entered the swamplands a day and a half ago when they were beset by the strangest attack force he had ever faced. Swamp creatures of all descriptions had hopped, swam, flew and burrowed up from beneath them to exact their toll on the army.

  Several horses and half a dozen men were pulled into the bogs before the attackers were put down with swords and axes, bouts of fire, and a hail of arrows.

  The forbidding swamp had forever acted as a hostile barrier between the Wilds and the rest of the Great Kingdom. With the exception of a narrow stretch of the Wilds running along the kingdom’s northeastern border, there was no better way to travel to the barren wilderness. That route circumvented Dragon’s Tooth and would have cost them many days.

  There was an easier path to the Draakvuur Colony but J’kwaad couldn’t afford to march his army anywhere near the dragon settlement until Duke Ryonin’s force was taken care of.

  Advance scouts reported the duke’s army consisted of a thousand and a half horse—more than enough to turn the balance of an assault on Draak Home if his men had to worry about fighting conventional forces while defending themselves from fiery air assaults.

  The good news was that Duke Ryonin employed horses. It had quickly become apparent that a man on foot moved faster through the uncertain terrain than a mounted knight

  Nodding with a sly grin, he said to Calor, “Order the regular cavalry west, out of the swamp.”

  “My prince?”

  “I’m gambling that our footmen will reach the head of the duke’s army before they get three-quarters of the way across this forsaken place.”

  “Yes, my prince. Am I to assume you’ll be leading the cavalry?”

  “The less time I spend in this quagmire the better.”

  “What of the footmen. Without your…” he paused before continuing, “…urging, do you think they will sustain the pace you have set?”

  “I have full confidence in you.”

  Calor did a double take. Trying hard to keep his jaw from dropping, he nodded. “Yes, my prince. It shall be done.”

  “Very good. Have my elite knights prepare to follow me to the east.”

  “You’re not staying with the main group?”

  “If we reach the duke’s men on drier ground, they’ll be hard to contain. All you need do is to keep them occupied until our mounted units converge on their flanks. The main cavalry’s passage through the swamp should be much faster than the duke’s if they follow in his wake.”

  “Yes, my prince.”

  “I look forward to snaring a traitor.”

  A Thousand Legs

  Reecah’s piercing scream echoed within the cavern, alerting Devius to their peril.

  He pulled her staff free of the magma—its end dripping flaming globules of molten rock onto the granite beside his feet. “Reecah, duck!”

  Reecah fell backward into the cave, expecting a fireball to sail over her and strike the creature dominating the tunnel but no such attack came.

  She held her arms out to ward off the black, wormlike creature slithering into the cavern. It reared up on a multiple segmented body, towering above her—two hooked antennae sensing the environment. A large set of horizontal mandibles gnashed at the air, the jaws appearing capable of crushing rock.

  She screamed twice more, crab walking backward toward the lava stream as dozens of pointed legs twitched along either side of its serpentine body and reached for her. “What is it? What is it?”

  The creature followed her movements though she didn’t think it had eyes.

  “Don’t move. It can sense you,” Devius called out—his voice attracting the creature’s attention.

  “Hit it with something! A fireball! Anything!”

  The creature twitched and turned back to her.

  “Don’t react. It’s blind, but its other senses are acute. It responds to vibrations.”

  Reecah stopped scuttling across the ground, afraid to breathe.

  The creature slithered farther into the cavern, rising up twice Devius’ height and still there was no sign of the end of its shiny body segments. Its antennae twitched in his direction.

  Reecah eased herself to her backside. Even that small movement drew its attention. Slowly reaching behind her, she pulled her bow free, watching as the creature’s attention divided itself between her and Devius.

  “Reecah, no!” Devius warned. “Remain still. If it bites you, I can’t save you.”

  The creature responded to Devius’ voice and started across the chamber upon dozens of legs. It reminded her of a gargantuan millipede.

  Devius hobbled one way and then another; his movements restricted by the lava floe at his back.

  The back end of the creature cleared the tunnel, its last segment dominated by long legs that pointed straight back from the rest of its body.

  Throwing Reecah’s staff to the ground, far to one side, attracted the creature’s attention. Its body segments undulated as it skittered forward so quickly Reecah couldn’t help but scream again.

  Devius launched a fireball at its head—the concussion stopping it in its tracks, but not doing any apparent damage.

  Dropping to the ground, its antennae twitched, curling up to probe the area around the lava river.

  Bow in hand, Reecah strung an arrow and looked for a vulnerable spot to hit as it crept away from where her staff lay and went toward Devius.

  “Reecah, no!”

  The millipede’s head perked up, honing in on Devius’ voice. Between one breath and the next, the creature moved across the ground with great speed, its sudden dash forcing Devius into a dead end where the molten river vanished into a black chasm.

  Not caring whether Devius liked it or not, Reecah sighted the creature’s rear segment between its back two legs and let fly. The arrow flew true but bounced harmlessly onto the floe.

  Readying another arrow, she watched as the first one floated momentarily before bursting into flame and disappearing, but it had done its job. The creature screeched an unearthly sound and spun on her.

  Disregarding Devius’ instruction to remain still, she drew the second arrow, pivoted her torso and shot it over the lava floe. The shaft impacted the opposite wall and shattered with a mighty crack.

  The creature swung its head around to sense the impact area.

  Another arrow, followed by a third, clattered along the wall across the river.

  The creature’s mandibles clacked open and shut, emitting a bizarre chitter.

  Reecah spotted a chunk of rock that hadn’t melted as it was swept along the current. Waiting until it drifted by the millipede, she launched a fourth arrow. It arched beside the creature and struck the rock—explo
ding into splinters.

  The creature charged at the sound; unable to slow its momentum into the magma river until it was too late.

  An ear-piercing squeal made Reecah and Devius cover their ears as the long, segmented body twitched and convulsed in the creature’s death throes—the front half of its body melting into the river and pulling its tail end after it. Flames licked along its entire carcass as it tipped over the brink and disappeared into the chasm.

  Trying hard to steady her breathing, Reecah exchanged open-mouthed stares with Devius; turning her nose up at the awful smell left in the wake of the creature’s demise.

  “That was brilliant, my child!” Devius looked at the chasm, shaking his head. “Quick, grab your staff. I’m afraid our friend with a thousand legs has probably alerted others.”

  Ignoring the intense heat, she scrambled across the hot rock floor, retrieved her staff, and met Devius at the cavern entrance. Peering into the pitch darkness, she was startled when her staff came to life—the newly etched runes radiating a soft blue while the Dragon’s Eye shone brightly in the same colour.

  “Ha-ha!” Devius slapped her on the back. “You see? You are a Windwalker. That has nothing to do with me.”

  “B-but you put the runes there.”

  “I did nothing of the sort. That was Grimelda’s doing. Only a dragon or a Windwalker is capable of such things and I am neither.”

  “But you’re an elf, right?”

  He exposed an ear. “Do these look elvish to you?”

  “No but—”

  “Yes, I have elven blood, but I am far removed. You however, not so much. Your great-grandmother, Katti, was half elven.”

  She tried to do the math to figure out her percentage but struggled with the final number. If no one else along the line were of elven heritage, that left her with only a small percentage. “That makes me less than ten percent if I’m not mistaken.”

  “Aye. That is how the Windwalker line petered out. Diluted through interracial marriage. Fortunately, depending on how you look at it, the dominant trait has surfaced in you. Passed down from your mother.”

 

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