The Eye of Tanglewood Forest (Haymaker Adventures Book 3)

by Sam Ferguson

  Jonathan held his breath until the light reappeared. Then there was a terrible snarl and a flash of orange light filled the gap in the hatch.

  “Is it a dragon?” Jason asked.

  Nobody answered.

  The root cellar continued to tremble as the beast paced back and forth above. By the sound of crunching stone, it seemed as though the entire structure above had been reduced to rubble. The four of them cowered in the cold, damp dark as the beast above roamed around the floor. Jonathan tried to take in slow, silent breaths, making sure to hold them before letting each one out with as much control as he could muster. He had no way of knowing what the others were doing, for even after his eyes adjusted he could barely make out more than vague shapes.

  They remained there for hours, but the beast never left. It continued pacing around the house, occasionally stopping to scratch the floor. After a long while, it slumped onto the floor and let out what sounded like a large rush of hot steam. Within a few minutes Jonathan could hear the rhythmic sound of breathing as the monster upstairs fell asleep.

  “What do we do?” Jason asked.

  “We sleep,” Ziegler whispered. Everyone go ahead and lay down. No need to set watches. If the thing upstairs comes down to us, we’ll hear it. Otherwise, I doubt anything is going to try and slip past it.”

  Jonathan could hear the others shifting on the ground. He didn’t relax at first, afraid it was some sort of trick the beast was using to lull them into relaxing their vigilance. He wasn’t sure exactly how long it was before he followed suit and laid down, but the others were all breathing heavily by the time his head rested upon the ground. He tried to close his eyes and forget about the thing upstairs, but he couldn’t. His mind kept showing him scenarios in which his head was bitten off or his body was ripped in half. There was nothing he could do to calm his nerves. He must have been there for hours, lying in the dark, waiting for the monster to spring on them.

  He was still awake, staring at the slit of light in the ceiling, when the others began to stir many hours later.

  “It’s still up there,” Jason said.

  “Then we’ll have to fight our way out,” Ziegler stated dryly.

  “Maybe we can crack a peek at it first to see what we’re up against,” Jason said.

  Jonathan could hear his brother moving toward the ladder to the hatch. The thin light widened and then intensified, forcing Jonathan to wince and look away. Then the light faded as Jason brought the hatch back down and then quietly made his way back to the others.

  “It’s big,” he began. “No wings, so it isn’t a dragon, but it is big.”

  “Describe it in full,” Ziegler said.

  “Leathery skin, six legs, two smaller arms up on its torso. Didn’t see the face though because its head was turned to the other side.”

  “Leathery skin, not scales?” Ziegler asked. “You sure?”

  “Positive.”

  “All right. Let’s get ready to strike. I’ll lead the way. Jason, you’re second. Jonathan, you bring up the rear,” Ziegler said.

  “What about the cavedog,” Jonathan asked. “I don’t think it can jump all the way out.”

  “Not risking our lives for an animal,” Ziegler said dryly. “Either it can make it out on its own, or we leave it.”

  “It fought for us,” Jonathan pointed out.

  “I know,” Ziegler said. “If I lift it up through the hatch, it will attack this thing too, and we’ll lose the element of surprise. If we try to attack the beast up there, and then one of us tries to help the cavedog escape, we’ll be down in manpower. It isn’t that I’m callous, I’m just being practical. We have to ensure our lives first.”

  Jonathan nodded, not that anybody could see the gesture in the darkness, but he understood that Ziegler was right. He turned his thoughts to the beast upstairs and realized that he wouldn’t be able to use his bow in close quarters. He pulled his knife out just as a last resort, though he hoped by the time he made it out of the cellar, the beast would be dead. Everyone got into position, and then Ziegler counted in a hushed whisper.

  “One… two… three!”

  The hatch flew open and light flooded the space. The others rushed up onto the main floor in a flash. Jonathan was right behind them. The beast stirred just as he came out from the root cellar and a flurry of movement erupted around him. A thick tail lashed out and Jason was thrown through the room to crash into the far wall.

  The creature laughed as it stood up to its full height. It looked almost like it could be a giant cousin to the many small forest scorpions Jonathan had seen in years past, except there were no pincers, and the tail was thick and fleshy, and had no spike at the end. The creature hissed, emitting flames from its mouth.

  “Go, all of you!” Ziegler shouted.

  Jason fled the house, exiting through a massive opening where the front door had once been. Jonathan quickly made his way to the back of the room, but he was not about to let Ziegler face the monster alone. He pulled his bow out and drew back on the string. The creature turned and lashed out at Ziegler with two of its legs. Ziegler dodged to the side, providing Jonathan the perfect opening. He fired his bow.

  The arrow zipped across the short span and bit into the creature’s chest. The beast slowly turned its head. A smile pulled the lips back from its fang-filled snout as it locked its fiery eyes onto Jonathan’s. It made a strange guttural sound and then it began to speak in a language that Jonathan did not know.

  “Get out!” Ziegler shouted as he rushed back in. His sword came down in a high arc at the beast’s body, hacking deeply into the hip joint of one of the creature’s rear legs. Green blood oozed out and dripped onto the floor, hissing and smoking as it made contact. “It’s a demon, Jonathan, get out of here!”

  Jonathan disobeyed and fired another arrow. Like the first, it sank deep into the creature’s chest.

  Fire came out from the monster’s eyes and would have killed Jonathan where he stood, but he was tackled to the ground. Jonathan grunted under the weight after hitting the floor and looked up to see his brother.

  “Ziegler told us to run,” Jason said. “If Ziegler says to run, we run!”

  “We can’t leave him,” Jonathan replied. He pushed Jason off and the two looked back to Ziegler.

  The large man was now atop the beast’s back, driving his sword into the spine time and time again while taking heavy hits from the demon’s tail. The creature then made a hissing noise and a red light appeared from the back of its mouth. Ziegler leapt aside just in time to avoid a column of fire.

  Jonathan couldn’t watch anymore without helping. He aimed another arrow at the creature. This time he shot it in the back of the skull, seeing as the first two strikes had accomplished nothing. The third arrow was even less effective, snapping upon impact with the demon’s skull.

  “We need to go!” Jason said.

  The beast turned to look at the two of them and laughed as smoke came out of its nostrils.

  It lurched forward, its body tightening with spasms as blood spurted out onto the ground.

  Jason held his sword at the ready and Jonathan prepared another arrow, but the creature stopped short of attacking them and made a strange grunt as its head cocked to the side. Its skin stretched out on its neck and then the glistening point of a sword came rushing through, dripping with green blood. The demon struggled against the weapon as it moved back and forth, sawing through the neck. Ziegler gave a mighty shout and then there was a loud popping sound as the head ripped free and fell to the floor.

  The rest of the body slumped down and Ziegler walked out from behind the corpse.

  “I told you to run,” Ziegler said. His tone was stern, but it was the anger in Ziegler’s blue eyes that sent a chill running down Jonathan’s spine.

  “I… I…” Jonathan stammered.

  “The next time I tell you to run, you do it,” Ziegler said. “I can handle myself, and in the event that I meet something big enough to take me down, the
n you certainly wouldn’t be able to do much.”

  “I killed the troll king,” Jonathan said as the fear left him, replaced by anger.

  Ziegler took the comment better than Jonathan thought. The big man turned to wipe his sword on the demon’s side and then he sheathed the blade. “Let’s move,” he said.

  A scratching sound came from the hatch and the three of them stopped to see the cavedog climbing out and onto the floor. It hissed and darted over to the demon’s corpse.

  “Come on,” Jonathan told the cavedog. “It’s dead; leave it be.”

  The cavedog didn’t respond.

  “Let’s go!” Jonathan said.

  Again, the cavedog ignored him.

  “Maybe try giving it a name,” Jason said with a quirky smile. “See if it listens to you then.”

  The demon’s body stirred and the three of them froze.

  The arms pushed the torso back up as bony spikes grew from the hole in its neck.

  The cavedog leapt into action, ripping and tearing at the demon’s chest. In seconds, the cavedog had the demon’s beating heart in its jaws. It ripped the organ out from the demon and the monster’s body fell to the ground once more. The cavedog then lifted its tail victoriously and trotted outside.

  “Next time, we let the cavedog go first,” Ziegler said.

  The three of them went outside to see the cavedog feasting upon the demon’s heart while lying in the morning sunlight. Jason and Ziegler made a couple of comments to each other about the animal, but Jonathan soon locked his eyes on something he hadn’t noticed before. There was one house that was smaller than all the other buildings around. It wasn’t crushed or ruined, but it had been built smaller. He went toward it and smiled to himself when he saw the doorway was only three feet tall.

  “What are you doing?” Ziegler called out from the road.

  “What kind of elf uses a door that’s only three feet tall?” Jonathan shouted back.

  “A gnome!” Jason said excitedly. The others rushed over to Jonathan and helped him with the door. The lock was still intact, and they couldn’t force the door open by kicking it, so Ziegler picked the lock. After the door was open, Jonathan squeezed through the small door and made his way into the house. It was dark at first, but after he entered the structure, light appeared from several crystals embedded into the walls and ceiling. Whatever had ruined the rest of the city, it had left this building alone. Aside from the thick layers of dust and the many cobwebs, everything was in perfect condition. The windows weren’t broken, there were no cracks in the walls or ceiling, even the furniture stood still, arranged in a perfect fashion to accommodate a single, solitary dweller.

  Jonathan went to a small, roll-top wooden desk and pulled it open. Dust flurried about him, causing him to sneeze twice. A quill sat next to an ink well made of brass. A blank, old paper was situated directly before him. He reached down to pick it up, but the paper crumbled to tiny bits in his fingers. Jonathan then moved to pull open the various drawers, but he found nothing of use.

  After a fruitless search, he closed the desk once more and went through the house, inspecting shelves and crates for any sort of clues. The search took several minutes, as he made a thorough inspection, but he couldn’t find anything. There was no sign of the crystal, or anything else in the house that could help him make sense of what had happened.

  He moved to the bed and sat on it. The wooden legs cracked and split under his weight and he crashed to the floor.

  Hearing the commotion, Ziegler opened the door and popped his head inside the small house.

  “Everything all right?”

  Jonathan nodded and waved. “Just fine,” he said, a bit embarrassed at being caught on a broken bed.

  “Get moving,” Ziegler said. “Your cavedog is done with his victory meal, and we need to be on our way.”

  Jonathan pushed himself up from the bed and looked down. That was when he saw a small iron ring jutting out from the floor under the mattress. The young man looked at the mess and realized that when the bed had broken, it hadn’t fallen straight down, but rather it had shifted off to one side. He pushed it out of his way and found a hatch leading down. Likely it was just another root cellar, but it was curious that the hatch should be hidden underneath the bed.

  Jonathan grabbed the ring and pulled upward.

  He slipped down the hole and eased onto the hard stone floor below. As with the upstairs rooms, crystals on the walls of the cellar began to glow and bring light to the space. There were bookshelves lining one wall, an empty sword rack and armor cabinet on another, and a small desk at the far end of the room. Jonathan walked toward the desk, but stopped when he got to the middle of the room. Some unseen force held him in place, gripping his body tightly, but not hurting him.

  He tried to call out, but something kept him from speaking.

  The hatch above slammed shut.

  A green light appeared by the desk and transformed into a small figure. It walked around Jonathan, studying him intently, as it continued to take shape. Finally, Jonathan recognized the figure as that of a gnome. He had not seen one before in person, but had read about them in the book that the scholar from the Order of Anorit had given him before his journey.

  “I see you have Lysander’s bow,” the figure of light said.

  Jonathan nodded slightly. “It was given to me,” he said, finally able to speak once more.

  “Interesting,” the gnome said as it stroked its chin. “And then you came to my home, eh?”

  Jonathan nodded again. “I was told to find the Astral Crystal before a wicked elf could steal it and use it for his own purposes.”

  “Ah, but that is exactly what someone would say if they wanted to steal the crystal,” the gnome said. It walked around Jonathan once more and then stood in front of him. The green light seemed to flicker in intensity, like the flames of a fire, as it stood still and watched Jonathan. “How am I to trust you?”

  Jonathan tried to shrug, but the force held him still. “I came here looking for a friend. In the course of doing that, we stumbled into a bigger mess, and now we have been charged with making sure the evil elf doesn’t get the Astral Crystal.”

  “You said ‘we’ this time,” the gnome said. “Who is with you?”

  “Captain Ziegler of the Ghosts of the Quags, and my brother Jason.”

  “No one else?” the gnome pressed.

  “No one else has lived through the journey,” Jonathan replied. “Though, I do have a cavedog that recently became my companion.”

  “Oh, now that is interesting,” the gnome said. “A cavedog does not choose its companions lightly.”

  “Are you Jaeger?” Jonathan asked.

  The gnome shook its head. “I am merely a projection of his consciousness. I was left here to protect the knowledge.”

  “You mean where the crystal is?” Jonathan asked.

  The gnome pointed its finger of light at Jonathan’s face. “What is the name of this wicked elf you speak of?”

  “Brykith,” Jonathan answered.

  “If you are lying, then you have made your story well in advance to be able to answer so quickly,” the gnome said.

  “I don’t lie,” Jonathan said.

  “Everyone lies,” the gnome replied.

  “I don’t,” Jonathan said.

  “I’ve never seen anyone who doesn’t lie, especially not a human. Filthy folk, the lot of you.”

  “Yet you traveled with Lysander,” Jonathan cut in. “He was human.”

  “He most certainly was not,” the gnome shot back. “He’s the son of Icadion, given to mortal parents for his upbringing and teaching, but he is not a lowly human like you.”

  Jonathan ignored the insult and went another route. “So, you mean to tell me that the son of Icadion lied to you?” Jonathan asked.

  “Of course not,” the gnome responded.

  Jonathan smiled. “Then you have met two people who do not lie.”

  The gnome stood and sta
red at Jonathan for a moment with narrowed eyes, and then a smile flashed across his face and he shook his head. “I have met one person who does not lie. I have not decided about you yet.”

  “Fair enough,” Jonathan said. “Can you release me from your spell?”

  The gnome shook his head. “Not until I am certain you are not an enemy.”

  “What more can I do to prove myself?”

  The gnome wagged a green finger in the air. “What more will you do to hide the crystal than I already have, hmm? Can you protect it where I have failed?”

  “I don’t know,” Jonathan said honestly. “I only know that a man by the name of Reshem told me to find it first.”

  “Reshem?” Jaeger echoed. “And those were his exact words?”

  Jonathan thought for a moment, trying to recall what Reshem had told him. “He told me that I must stop Brykith from finding the Astral Crystal.”

  The gnome stroked its ethereal chin and nodded. “Very well then. I can help you with that.”

  “You can?” Jonathan asked. The force holding him in place melted away and he was able to use his arms and legs once more.

  “Long ago, I had the crystal here. I hid it from prying eyes by using the golden horns of a magical ram. The plan was working well until a thief came and stole one of the golden horns. He took the horn away and the demons found me once more. I was forced to retreat, and all who lived in this city were slain by the terrible beasts that came. The elves fought bravely, but none survived.”

  Jonathan nodded. “We fought one of the demons before I found this house. Ziegler cut off its head and the cavedog tore out its heart.”

  The gnome narrowed its eyes on Jonathan. “There were hundreds of them that came for the crystal,” he said soberly. “What you experienced was nothing compared to the Night of Wings and Fire. Continue northward, and you shall fulfill your quest.”