The Eye of Tanglewood Forest (Haymaker Adventures Book 3)

by Sam Ferguson

  The problem was that the fall, and the impact, had taken his strength from him. He felt his limbs go weak, and he gave in to the darkness. As he floated downward, he could hear his heartbeat pounding loudly in his ears. It was almost as if he could see flashes of red with each beat he heard. There was a pounding in his head, and then came a sharp ring in his ears.

  His body turned over in the depth, and then something grabbed his arm. Sharp, strong teeth seized his hand, but the bite felt gentle. Then there was a tug at his arm, and his whole body slid through the water. A few moments later, his weight returned to him and he moaned aloud as his body was filled with aches and pains he had not noticed before. There was a splash, and then he found himself lying still. It took him a few seconds to realize both that his eyes were open, and that he was breathing. He sat upright, and then discovered that he was now on something solid and made of stone. He was no longer drifting in the darkness.

  “Jonathan?” Jason called out.

  “I’m here,” Jonathan replied.

  There was some splashing and then Jason was dragged up onto the rock as well. Something nuzzled Jonathan’s side and then the young archer realized that Griff had pulled them both from the water.

  “Good boy, Griff, good boy,” Jonathan said breathlessly.

  “The aim of the tunnel could have been a bit better,” Jason complained. He coughed and sputtered a bit. In the darkness, neither of them could see each other.

  Then there was an orange flash high above them.

  “Think that was the fireball?” Jonathan asked.

  “I really couldn’t care less right now,” Jason replied. “All I want to do is lie here and go to sleep.”

  Jonathan nodded. “If we stay, they might find us. After all, the elf would only need to follow the tunnel.”

  “If he follows us, then shoot him and put an end to it,” Jason said.

  Jonathan reached for his bow and set it in his lap. He then went to grab an arrow only to discover that his quiver was gone. He had no arrows.

  “I don’t have any more arrows,” Jonathan said.

  “Fine, then throw a rock at him. I really don’t care.” Jason groaned and shuffled around in his spot. “I think my arm is broken,” he said. “I can’t move it.”

  Jonathan went to his brother and felt around in the darkness.

  “Hands off! That hurts!” Jason said sharply.

  “Sorry,” Jonathan offered. “I was just trying to help.”

  “You’ve never set a bone before, so just let me be,” Jason said grumpily.

  Jonathan started to pull his hands away, but as he did so he felt something protruding through Jason’s sleeve. Jason yelled in agony and pulled away.

  “I said don’t touch it!”

  “Jason, the bone is through your arm,” Jonathan said. “We have to do something. Are you bleeding a lot?”

  “I don’t know, I can’t see,” Jason said weakly. “Just, let me sleep.”

  Jonathan did the only thing he could think of. He slapped his brother across the face.

  “What in the name of Icadion’s beard do you think you are doing?” Jason yelled.

  Jonathan took the berating in stride, happy to hear the energy back in his brother’s voice. “Shut up and let’s see what we can assess about your wound.”

  “How? Our backpacks are gone and neither of us can use magic.”

  “Feel around the wound, is there a lot of blood?” Jonathan asked.

  “We just came out of a giant underground lake, how am I supposed to know if I am wet with blood or water?” Jason asked.

  Jonathan wasn’t sure. “Put your fingers near the wound and then smell them,” Jonathan said. “If it smells like blood, then…”

  “Yeah, I can smell it,” Jason said with a grunt. “I don’t think it’s a lot, though.”

  Jonathan could hear his brother’s teeth start to chatter. Jason was about to go into shock. Slapping him again wouldn’t work after that. If only he could see! There was precious little he could do as it was.

  “Now would be a good time for some magic,” Jonathan said to the darkness.

  He sat there, breathing slowly, staring out into nothing. Despite the urgency of the situation, he found his body weakening. Soon, he too was lying down on the rock. Griff tried to nuzzle him a few more times, but it wasn’t enough to rouse Jonathan back to his senses. In the young archer’s mind, he knew he needed to help his brother, but his body was no longer listening. His hands remained still. His eyes closed. His body gave in to sleep.

  *****

  Ziegler sat upon a fallen log, his face buried in his hands. His eyes burned from all the tears he had shed when he saw Raven’s body. He couldn’t bear what he had done. He had killed his friend. He rocked back and forth on the log, sobbing and mumbling to himself. If there was a hole he could throw himself into, he would have, just to escape the pain of the guilt. He hadn’t slept at all the previous night, the dying screams of those men he had lost in the Troll Wars returning to him every time he closed his eyes.

  He didn’t know where he was, and he wasn’t even sure that he cared. The only thought that had stopped him from running was his obligation to Jonathan and Jason. That had been enough to make him sit on the log, but his guilt still prevented him from trying to return to them. How could he? He had murdered Raven.

  “Captain Ziegler,” a voice called out from nearby.

  Ziegler looked up but saw only the dense trees and the lush bushes around him. His eyes darted around, looking for the source of the voice, but he was almost afraid to find it, as if it would be Raven, coming to exact his revenge, or perhaps one of the many others who had perished while he alone survived.

  “Captain Ziegler,” the voice called again. “Don’t be alarmed, I am a friend.”

  Ziegler stood up and spun around, expecting someone behind him, but no one was there.

  “Who is it?” Ziegler shouted.

  “A friend,” the voice called again. “A protector.”

  Suddenly a warmth filled Ziegler’s chest and his nerves settled enough to allow him to regain control over his breathing and put an end to the sobs that had beset him after killing Raven.

  A man appeared in front of him, holding a long spear and dressed in green robes. He pulled back his hood and reached up to indicate a particular symbol on the collar of his black shirt. “Do you recognize this?”

  Ziegler drew his knot into a brow and nodded with his mouth slightly open. “You… you’re Reshem.”

  Reshem nodded. “I have two gifts for you, if you will let me speak with you but for a moment.”

  Ziegler nodded. “Then speak, and tell me why you couldn’t have warned us about Raven. Tell me why you knew what we should do, but you didn’t tell us what we shouldn’t do!” Ziegler walked up to Reshem, half wanting to punch the tall man, and half wanting to grab the front of Reshem’s clothes and shake him. “Why?”

  “I didn’t know,” Reshem said. “I cannot see into the future like an oracle. I am a watcher, not a prophet.”

  “But, surely, there has to be something you can do!”

  Reshem nodded and smiled. “I have already done it.” Reshem lifted his hand and gestured to his left.

  Ziegler looked and saw Raven walking toward him.

  “Hello, old friend,” Raven said in his strange, squeaky voice. “I’m sorry for last night.”

  “You’re sorry?” Ziegler asked. “It is I who need forgiveness. I… I killed you.”

  “You slew a bear that threatened your camp,” Raven said. “It was Brykith who changed me into a bear when he caught me not far from this very spot.”

  Ziegler’s face grew hard. “Brykith did that to you?”

  Raven nodded. “But, our mutual friend here brought me back.”

  Reshem cut in. “I had to wait until Jason and Jonathan left the camp, but I was able to resurrect Raven, and as you can see, he is whole.”

  Ziegler glanced between the two of them. “But why wait,
why not come in before I killed him?”

  Reshem nodded soberly. “I was not able to come in time. I was late. For that, I am sorry, but the other watchers were too close. They would have seen me.”

  “The other watchers?” Ziegler asked. “What do you mean? Demons? Angels? Brykith? Who else was so powerful that their watching stopped you from coming last night?”

  “Ziegler, let it go,” Raven said.

  “I will not,” Ziegler snarled. “You don’t know what it’s like to do what I did, to go through what I am going through right now!”

  Reshem nodded. “And so, here is the first of my gifts to you.” Reshem reached out and put his left hand to Ziegler’s right temple. There was a flash of golden light, and then a warmth poured into Ziegler’s head and heart. Reshem held the man’s gaze, and then it was as if the two could communicate without speaking.

  “I am going to take your pain,” Reshem said telepathically. “Give it to me, let me carry your burdens now.”

  Ziegler narrowed his eyes on Reshem. “Who are you?”

  “I am a protector,” Reshem replied. “I watch over this world and try to keep it safe from all the horrible things that would seek to destroy or subdue it. I am the lion that guards the door. I am the spear that blocks the gate. I am Reshem, the Watcher of Terramyr.”

  The warmth intensified and Ziegler closed his eyes, allowing the magic to ease his suffering. As he did so, he saw visions of Raven and Miranda together again. He saw them working on spells and laughing. He saw Ruben joining them, and taking Miranda by the hand. There was a toddler with him, a young curly haired girl who called Miranda her mommy, and had Ruben’s eyes and nose.

  “How can that be?” Ziegler said aloud. “Ruben is…”

  Reshem’s voice entered his mind again. “There are powers in this world that are beyond your wildest imagination. Trust in what you see, for this is what will be.”

  “But, you said you weren’t an oracle,” Ziegler replied.

  “No, but I can see a few things,” Reshem said. “What you have seen in your mind is the future for you and Raven, but it is the past for me. You see, Miranda wakes and uncovers the mystery of time travel. It is weak at this point, but strong enough to send me back and find Raven and Ruben. I have been able to save both of them, and now I will take them back to the future, to reunite them with Miranda. As we speak, she is working to find Jonathan and Jason, but they will need your help, Captain Ziegler.”

  Ziegler opened his eyes and wiped away a tear. “Prove it,” he said. “I want to believe, I do, but I need to know this isn’t a trick. How do I know this isn’t fake, some sort of spell sent by Brykith?”

  “Your name is Tray Maloy,” Reshem said. “When you were twenty, your wife and two daughters were killed in a raid on your village. That was the deciding moment that turned you into the man you are today. You joined the Troll Wars, and replaced the previous Captain Ziegler.”

  “Anyone might know that from looking at my military records,” Ziegler said.

  “But not many people know that your brother, Gavin Maloy, died at the hands of the Kottri after a failed expedition to Lysander’s Peril,” Reshem said.

  “You could have gotten that from Jonathan or Jason,” Ziegler said as he folded his arms.

  Reshem nodded. He put his hand back to Ziegler and then as they reestablished the telepathic link, he played out a dream wherein Ziegler received Myrskyn, Lysander’s sword. Reshem then broke the connection and waved his hands.

  A grand sword appeared in Reshem’s hands. “This is Myrskyn, the sword Lysander wielded in the great and terrible wars that raged in Terramyr’s early history. Now, normally I don’t interfere so directly, as the other watchers might catch me giving out such powerful items.” Reshem smiled and offered a wink. “Then again, you are one of three survivors to ever return from Lysander’s Peril. Who’s to say you didn’t find it on your own?” Reshem offered Ziegler the sword. “While holding it, you have but only to think about fire and lightning, and the blade will call them down for you.”

  “Do you remember the story I once told you about how we rid my family’s farm of snakes?” Raven asked Ziegler.

  Captain Ziegler nodded and took the sword in his hand. A bolt of lightning struck down and split a tree in half. A moment later the sword burst into flame. “You said you burned the corn field until there was nothing left.”

  Raven smiled gently. “Brykith is the snake now,” Raven said. “Let’s see if we can’t clear the corn field.”

  “Our time is short,” Reshem said. “Jason and Jonathan are already in the tower. We must leave, but we have given you everything you need to finish this.”

  “I’ll burn Brykith out,” Ziegler promised.

  *****

  When Jonathan woke, he found himself dangling from a stone ceiling, with chains on his wrists. He glanced around the small cell and was relieved to see that Jason was nearby. Unlike Jonathan, Jason was sitting upon the floor. His feet were chained together and he had one arm chained to the wall, but his broken arm was lying limp in his lap. Jason was asleep, sitting against the wall with his head slumped forward. Jonathan wiggled his body to pull on his chains, but all he got for his efforts were sore wrists and a shooting pain through his left shoulder that extended through his neck.

  Just then, an elf guard popped into view of the cell. The wicked sneer on his face sent chills down Jonathan’s spine.

  “Do try to remain still. We try to keep our sacrifices relatively unharmed before we use them. Aside from that, the sounds of chains bother me.”

  Jonathan felt anger rise up in him that overwhelmed his sensibility. He wiggled as hard as he could, ignoring the pain in his wrists and shoulders. If he couldn’t attack the elf directly, then he would annoy him with the chains.

  That proved to be a mistake.

  The elf pointed at Jonathan and whispered something. A flash of gold and black exploded before him, and then Jonathan was unconscious once more.

  There was no telling how much time had passed when he awoke again. This time, he found Jason awake and watching him.

  “You okay?” Jason mouthed.

  Jonathan nodded and then indicated to Jason’s broken arm with his nose. “You all right?” Jonathan asked in a whisper.

  Jason smiled his boyish smile. “I’m fine, chain’s a bit tight though,” he said.

  “Quiet down in there,” a voice called from outside the cell.

  Jonathan looked up to see what was beyond the bars of the cell door. As he had seen once before, there was a large altar made of onyx. It matched the style of the other altars he had seen so far. A strange, red glow emanated from a crystal floating above the altar. Now, after speaking with Cayda, Jonathan at least knew what it was. It was a migot crystal. The migot spun ever so slightly in the air, slowly turning the shadows in the room.

  There was a metallic squeaking sound coming from somewhere to the left of the cell. A troll came lumbering into view from the left. It was tall and muscular. Its black hair was kept up in a mohawk along the top, and a single braid hung down the back. It was dragging something with its left arm. To Jonathan’s horror, an elf was being dragged by the manacles holding its arms. The elf was male, and looked at Jonathan with dead, distant eyes. The troll yanked the chains and flipped the elf up onto the altar. The troll then bound the elf’s wrists, knees, and ankles. The hideous creature pulled an obsidian dagger from its belt and held it over the elf’s chest.

  “Uh-uh-uh!” called a voice from the right. The elf that guarded the cell came back into view, holding a dirty length of cloth in his hands. “I don’t want to hear the screams, it disturbs my focus.”

  The troll nodded and took the cloth to gag the sacrifice. Then the knife was lifted into the air and plunged into the elf on the altar. Jonathan looked away, but he could still hear the scraping shoes against the altar, the muffled screams, and the rattling chains.

  “Don’t worry, your turn to contribute will come soon enough,” th
e guard said to Jonathan.

  Jonathan looked up and saw that the red crystal twirled in the air above the sacrificial victim, spinning faster and pulsing with throbbing light that waxed and waned as it revolved. The troll sneered wickedly and raised the obsidian dagger to the crystal. A red tendril of light came to the dagger and cleaned it of the blood. Then, a bright column of light extended from the crystal to the dead victim. In a matter of moments, the entire body was drained, as if something was drinking everything from the inside. The skin shriveled and shrank. Where bones should have held the body’s shape, the limbs wrinkled and warped. This continued until barely a husk of the body was left.

  The troll was allowed to take the husk, and eat it as his prize.

  “Soon,” the guard repeated. “Soon that will be you.”

  “I will not die upon that altar,” Jonathan said sourly.

  “Ah, the hubris of man. Unfortunate that you cannot see the reality of your situation. You are here, at the Eye of Tanglewood Forest. This is where a new world shall begin.” The guard pointed to Jonathan. “Your life force will add to the foundation of this new world. You should be proud of your accomplishment. Your contribution to history will be far greater here than in any other part of the world. There is nothing you could accomplish within your fleeting lifespan that will compare to what you can give to us here.”

  Jonathan jerked on his chains, rattling them as loudly as he could.

  The elf’s wicked sneer disappeared. He raised his hand again and pointed at Jonathan. “I would cause you to sleep, but I think this will help you understand that you should not disobey me.”

  A green spark formed at the edge of the guard’s fingernail and then shot through the air and struck Jonathan’s stomach. He cried out in pain as the spark sent bolts of green lightning around his torso and every muscle in his body contracted at the same time.

  “Stop it!” Jason yelled.