Lichgates

by S. M. Boyce

  The smoky images dissolved, and the stone became jet black once more. Kara took short, shaky breaths in her excitement. This was it. She was almost to the village.

  “Flick.” She pulled the little creature to her. He squeaked. “Can you teleport me to the Amber Temple?”

  He cocked his head, chirping in his confusion.

  “I guess that’s not how you work, then.” She sighed and set him back in the satchel. “Grimoire?”

  The book’s pages flipped to a picture of the same pillared hall she’d seen in the amulet. There was no title or text to give her any clues, but there was a map—a real one, with mountains and landmarks. She pulled the satchel over her shoulder.

  “Come on, Ryn,” she said. The wolf knelt, allowing her to hoist herself onto its back. After two quick, trotting steps, it bolted into the underbrush. She clung to its coat, but it moved with such an even gait that she could have slept without falling off.

  They traveled for two days through forests and along steep cliffs that overlooked the sea, only stopping for brief moments to eat or stretch. Kara rarely slept because when she did, she was plagued by nightmares of the demons lurking in the pillars’ shadows, just waiting for her to find them.

  Kara was lost in a recollected memory of her last dream—which was a murky concoction that had somehow involved Braeden—when Ryn came to a sudden stop.

  It was dusk in the thick forest through which they walked, and the sun was setting somewhere beyond the rows of tall pines and oaks. The trees were riddled with dead limbs and leaves that would not relinquish their hold on the branches.

  They stood on a wide, abandoned road carpeted with rotting leaves. The canopy thickened ahead and blocked out all light below it, shrouding the distance in a blackness that had no definition or depth. Ryn snarled, watching the shadows, and Kara lit a flame in her hand as she examined the empty trail. The lavender fire didn’t dent the darkness before them, but it did usher forth a visitor.

  Green light glinted off the air. It curved and twisted until a paw popped from it, hovering over the road without a body. There was a snapping noise, and a creature the size of a tiger jumped from the shimmying light to land on the path’s dead leaves.

  The creature was the color of ditch slime, and its teeth curved over its lips and down to its chin. Its orange eyes glowed with a light of their own, and it’s tail twitched as it looked her over. It growled and walked closer, the noise vibrating in its throat like a chuckle. Ryn leaned back, shoulders hunched to spring.

  This had to be the lyth.

  “Well, a visitor! It has been many centuries since my last. He was quite delicious.” The creature’s teeth distorted its voice such that it sounded like it spoke with its mouth full.

  Kara tightened her grip on Ryn’s coat and sat up straighter. The flame in her palm ignited into a fireball that engulfed her fist.

  “I don’t want trouble,” she said.

  “How rude,” it replied. “At least that visitor asked me my name. Do you have any manners, girl?”

  “Not really.”

  It licked its lips and laughed another of its rumbling chuckles. “Such a tongue. You should be kinder to me. I am a lyth, after all—a guardian of the Amber Temple. I must assume that’s where you’re headed. There’s no other reason to take this road.”

  Kara nodded.

  “Why do you wish to find it?”

  “Why should I tell you?”

  “Because I guard the Vagabond’s village. If you aren’t his successor, I must kill you for knowing where it is.”

  She bit her tongue and tasted the blood. Her impulse was to tell him off, but with teeth like that, it seemed like a poor choice.

  “I’m the Vagabond, and I have to find the village hidden in the temple. My map brought me here and told me you’d let me through.”

  “How convenient. Why must you find this village?”

  “The first Vagabond told me to. There’s supposed to be something there that will help me.”

  He clicked his tongue. “Nothing is learned if one blindly obeys. Still, I have long awaited the next Vagabond. I’ll protect these roads once you enter the temple if you show me the key.”

  “What key?”

  The creature narrowed its eyes and sighed. “The lapis map.”

  She blushed and pulled the blue slab of lapis from her satchel as the lyth brushed away twigs and branches on the road with its front paws, revealing a broken cobblestone path beneath the decay. A square indent the size of her stone map had been cut from the road.

  “Come,” the lyth beckoned.

  She dismounted and took slow steps toward the creature until she was close enough to smell the pungent, rotting odor that consumed its fur. The lapis slab pulled on her hand as she walked closer, its weight leaning toward the gap in the road until she set the blue stone amongst the fragmented cobblestones and dead leaves.

  The lapis glowed gold when it settled into its place in the cobblestones. Its light snaked through breaks in the road, kicking up leaves and patches of dirt as it raced away into the heavy shadows ahead of them. The darkness shattered like a broken mirror, dissolving into smoke and blowing away in the breezes of the growing night. The light continued to twist through the smoke, branching like veins through the air until it outlined a building.

  The light flared, forcing Kara to cover her eyes. She peered through her fingers when the blinding glare receded and saw a temple with four rounded towers to mark its four corners. A giant dome curved to a point in its center, and its giant bronze doors arched at the top of a few steep steps.

  “Tread carefully, keeper,” the lyth said with a sneer. It turned and trotted down the road, dissolving into thin air when it walked through the first moonbeam of the night. She shivered.

  “Come on, Ryn.” She reached up to pat the wolf’s neck, and it nudged her shoulder in return. She poked the satchel, where Flick slept, but he didn’t wake up. Together, she and her small band walked up the stairs and paused at the door.

  Kara twisted the knob until she could push the door open. Inside, rays of the growing moonlight peeked through the glass dome high above, but the light was lost in the room’s gloomy depths.

  It was exactly the hall the amulet had shown her. Dozens of pillars supported the roof in diagonal rows that had nothing but darkness between them. A pedestal glowed from its place on a raised platform about a hundred yards away, its body carved from rich orange amber. A hole had been cut through its center, and a rounded hourglass glimmered in the open space.

  Ryn followed her inside, but dissolved into dust with every step that brought it farther through the doorway. The black ash rose into the temple air while the wolf’s back legs continued forward, until Ryn was gone. She cursed as the last grain of his black sand settled at her feet.

  Her bag trembled from its place at her side, and she peeked in to see Flick, wide awake and cowering in the corner closest to the door. He trembled and curled his head under his front paws, ignoring her touch when she brushed his back to console him.

  The door swung gently closed behind her, the click of the latch echoing through the vast space and announcing her with a boom. The echo continued for several minutes, even as she began her walk toward the pedestal and the hourglass.

  She kept to the sparse light as much as she could, shooting sidelong glances into the shadows clinging to the pillars. A huffing breath came from the darkness—a wheezing sigh that made her hair stand on end. She focused her mind on her palm, bending the heat which raced through her veins until a small purple flame erupted in her hand and shed its flickering light over the cracked pillars.

  She walked quickly, but the room was still. Quiet. Tense. The shadows between the dark columns grew longer and darker the closer she came to the hourglass.

  Feet shuffled along the dirt-covered floor just beyond her vision. Something growled. A sharp screech, like nails on metal, made her jump. Dust lingered in her nose and tickled her sinuses, but she held her breath
until the urge to sneeze disappeared. Whatever these things were, they could make noises. She would not, in case they were looking for a reason to attack.

  Hot air wafted over the back of her neck in an unnatural stream, but she didn’t dare stop or look behind her. She was fifty yards away from the hourglass, now. The scraping became more frequent.

  Forty yards—growls bled into grunts.

  Thirty yards—the shifting became the swish of creatures pushing one another.

  Twenty yards—the defined edges of the hourglass became clearer. All of the sand had pooled in the bottom of the curved glass, which reflected the golden flush of the amber around it. She was close enough, now, that its powerful light illuminated her shaking hands.

  Her pulse raced. Breath was unmanageable. Fear told her to run toward the platform, run! and she could no longer dominate the impulse. She sprinted for the pedestal.

  It was a mistake.

  Something roared, and the nearest pillar cracked from the shrill bite of the sound. A fist the size of her head slammed into her ear and sent her flying. Her body fell against a column, and she tumbled onto the hard stone, shielding Flick’s satchel with her body. Kara glared into the darkness to see what she’d let free. Her eyes went wide, and she gasped.

  The monster was a giant shadow shaped like a massive ape. Its edges blurred into the darkness around it, so that there was no telling where it ended or began. The creature towered over her, hunched on its hands. It had no eyes, but roared and revealed the crooked white daggers that were its teeth. They jutted from every corner of its mouth, piercing its black gums and drawing bright red blood. It snarled and roared again.

  Three more shadow demons bled into view from the gloom-drenched pillars, blocking her view of the pedestal. They bellowed. Panic raced through her. Warmth pooled in her hands from the adrenaline and magic, but she’d already drained a good deal of her own energy by summoning a fire without any wood nearby, and there wasn’t any water to fuel her Lossian techniques. She was left with only the air, the darkness, and the little energy she had left.

  She brought her hands together over her head, focusing on the air as she contorted it into sharp daggers that hovered in the space above her fingers. Ten, then fifty, then a hundred arrows surrounded her like a suit of razor-sharp armor.

  Raging heat coursed through her as she focused and bent the air as far as she could. The blades circled, speeding around until they left streaks on the low light as they moved. The blur grew faster and thicker, and all she could see was the rush of sharp air. The demons chorused and chattered, each of them screaming.

  The ground trembled. They were coming.

  She threw her hands away from her body, a grunt escaping as she released the tension which had kept the blades near to her. The strain snapped from her fingers as the blades flew in every direction. They pummeled through the room, slicing through pillars and demons alike. Arms and heads and chunks of rock fell to the floor. The monsters shrieked, their voices shrill with pain.

  Support columns cracked and toppled, forcing her to duck and dart her way around raining blocks of stone. Rivers of the demons’ sticky red blood snaked across the tiled floor, the crimson streams the only color in the room besides the orange glow of the hourglass.

  A gray hand larger than her head appeared from the shadows and swatted at her like she was a fly, knocking her onto her back. She skidded for a few feet. Another monster leaned over her as she came to a stop. It lunged, its claws ripping her clothes before she could roll out of reach.

  Kara pushed herself to her feet and bolted toward the hourglass, throat stinging as she fought for breath, but another demon grabbed her and lifted her to its face. Its claws bit into her arm, the sharp nails ripping apart the skin as the thing clutched her tighter. She screamed in agony as thick lines of her blood ran down to her hands and dripped from her fingers, splattering to the floor. Her feet lashed out on their own, landing a solid kick in what would have been the monster’s nose if it’d had a real face.

  The shadow demon screamed and dropped her. She rolled across the ground, her arm still stinging from his grip. Blood bubbled from four holes in her arm, evidence of where the creature’s nails dug into her. She held the wounds and dodged another demon’s hand, trying to ignore the hot rush of pain. There was no time to heal.

  This had to end now.

  She knelt and set her hands on the floor. The heat from her palms seeped into the tiles, which rippled at her touch. The stone bent to her will, and she sensed poor supports in the ground beneath two of the demons to her right and another to her left.

  A smirk spread across her face, the sudden control over life and death dissolving away her fear. A hum droned in her mind, blocking out the demons’ snarling and heavy breaths. There was no pain anymore, no feeling: just the rush of life and magic and power.

  Thick tension pulled on her fingers until it seemed they would fall off from the strain. She yelled like the demons she was fighting, and stronger ripples pulsed through the tile. The ground burst. Gray bricks lodged into the ceiling from the force. Deafening echoes of smashing and shattering rock broke through the hall as the ground disintegrated beneath the three unlucky demons. They screamed and fell into the unending blackness below the temple.

  She grinned and glanced around for the next fight, but her smile faded. Her adrenaline dissolved into disbelief, and the power was gone.

  Moonlight streamed through the broad dome above, now, brighter than before. The depths of the temple were finally illuminated, though the floors were still shrouded in a deep shadow that no light could ever penetrate. She could now see hundreds of rows of the demons surrounding her from wall to wall, allowing her only the small space in which she fought. They stood motionless, waiting for their turn to attack. They could have overpowered her at any time, but chose not to.

  To her, this was life and death; to them, this was a game. She forced a hard swallow as the dread weighed her feet to the floor.

  The hourglass waited on its brilliant pedestal, visible through gaps in the only row of demons which stood before it. She groaned, unsure of what else to do, and summoned the broadsword she'd mastered in her time training by Hillside Lake. She focused the air around her into one long blade that clung to her hand like a mist. The tension pulled on her mind, stealing energy and focus she didn’t have, but this was her last attempt toward the hourglass.

  At least the strain was a distraction from the hopelessness.

  A cluster of demons nearest to the door screamed, their roars splitting the tense silence. The crowd surged and fluttered, their cries escalating as a collective frenzy rippled through them. Her adrenaline resurfaced as she prepared for the onslaught.

  This is it.

  Kara took a deep breath.

  But the rows of demons ignored her crouching stance and turned toward the temple doors, which, she could now see through breaks in the monsters, stood open. Moonlight poured in and shed its murky spotlight on a small figure that charged toward her on a flaer. He had dark hair, olive skin, and the glare of someone about to kill something.

  Braeden slid off of Rowthe at full speed, running to keep pace until he could get to the first demon on the outer edge of their circle. He jumped, drew his sword, and sliced the beast’s head from its shoulders. The crowd bellowed again, but the sound became indignant hollers against the newcomer who was clearly cheating.

  “Go!” he yelled.

  Smog engulfed him. His skin faded to gray. The Stelian Heir erupted in black fire, and when he twisted around, his red eyes glowed from the temple shadows. He’d let his daru take over. A demon fell on its hands in front of him and roared into his face, sending a trail of saliva across him. But he laughed and roared back, lost to the fury and madness, before he erupted into even larger, darker flames.

  Kara turned to the row of demons between her and the hourglass. Her skin prickled like she, too, was on fire, but the adrenaline contrastingly iced her veins. Her mind was calm and stil
l, despite the chaos. She twirled the sword she’d created from the air and ran toward the creatures.

  Her arms moved without instruction. She didn’t watch the beasts as they fell around her or stop to guess what she was doing. The sword swung and sliced and spun, catapulting droplets of demon blood against her face in its torrent. She stopped only when she stood at the first step of the pedestal, her body and mind and satchel still all somehow in one piece.

  Her ears rang, blocking out all sound but her breath. She walked up the stairs of the platform and scanned the hourglass as it hung, suspended, in the carved hole of the amber pedestal, reflecting the orange glow along its glass. The silver grains of sand waited at the bottom, where they’d lain useless for a thousand years.

  The frosted glass stung her, cold as ice, when she grabbed it, but the hourglass didn’t budge. She pushed harder, trying to turn it over.