Krom stepped forward.
“I shall go first,” he said in a tone of command. “Endrick shall follow me. Then Lasseter. Skylar. Grim.”
Everyone but Skylar nodded assent. Confidently, Krom took his place at the spot Orthunk had indicated before.
“Farewell, good friend,” he said to Orthunk. “May next we meet in happier times.”
Then Krom lifted his eyes heavenwards. Several moments passed, so that Skylar began to feel awkward. Like the time a strange boy at the Academy had tried to convince him that his pet lizard could answer simple questions by nodding or shaking its head. Skylar had sat there for a good five minutes while the boy rattled off dozens of questions. All the while the lizard sat motionless, never making any motion which resembled a nod or shake of the head. He’d felt uncomfortable then, watching the boy’s desperation grow with every unanswered question, just as he did now as he watched Krom standing there, nothing happening. Not that he truly expected anything to happen.
Without warning, a blinding flash of white light burst from where Krom stood. Skylar raised his right arm to shield his eyes, but the light had vanished before his hand reached his face.
Skylar gaped at the spot where Krom had stood. It was empty. Completely and utterly void of any sign that a man had stood in the spot just moments before.
How can it be possible?
Endrick only hesitated a moment before stepping forward to take his turn.
“See you all on Fenorra—if the light doesn’t burn me up first, or I don’t take a wrong turn at Felos.”
Another blinding flash followed and Endrick vanished.
Lasseter followed.
Skylar felt sick to see the spot where Lasseter had stood. Not only because it meant his own turn was at hand, but because he didn’t know if he would ever see his uncle again.
“Do not fear, my prince,” came the voice of Grim. “The light is our ally.”
Grim’s words were calming and granted Skylar the courage he needed to walk forward and take his place on the spot from where the others had vanished. Heart pounding painfully, Skylar looked straight up and tried to remember Orthunk’s instructions. So many questions flooded his mind. Not the least of which was, where would the light take him?
He found Naaros gleaming brightly in the night sky. A star his uncle had taught him to recognize. Free your mind and heart of earthly shackles, he repeated in his mind. Free your mind...free your mind.
Involuntarily, the words of Grim’s song of Elydar entered his mind. As the words flowed he found himself desiring to go there. No sooner had he thought this than he felt an extraordinary stillness.
It was like nothing he’d ever felt. The stars had grown brilliant beyond imagination, and so large that he felt he could reach out and touch them. He looked down and realized he no longer stood at the top of the tree, but floated in space. Yet, as though he were still on Quoryn, he saw Grim and Orthunk as clearly as if they stood in front of him. Everywhere he looked it was the same, as though everything were before him all at once.
Skylar felt no sense of motion. Yet he knew that he was moving. Moving so rapidly that no mortal eye could see him. He did not breathe. And yet, he felt no need to. And without knowing how he knew, he understood how to go where he wanted.
Scanning the space around him, Skylar located Fenorra, a gray, craggy planet, sprawling with mountains. Effortlessly, he spied Krom, Lasseter, and Endrick standing on top of a mighty peak, the full light of day beaming down on them. Keeping his eyes focused on the companions, he directed his thoughts to that one spot, thinking only about being there. And as suddenly as the stillness and peace overtook him, it was gone. A frigid mountain wind struck him from the side, and the other three companions stood before him.
No longer buttressed by the unseen force that carried him across the galaxy, Skylar’s body felt heavy, his legs weak. He sank to his knees, panting heavily. Lasseter came and put a hand on his shoulder.
“Fine job, Skylar,” he said. “Fine job. The weakness will wear off. Here—drink.”
Lasseter handed him a water skin, from which Skylar drank greedily. Before he withdrew it from his lips, a flash of light burst around them, leaving Grim standing beside them in its wake.
“Glad you made it, Grim,” said Endrick. “I was beginning to think you’d been burned to dust.”
“We have precious few hours of daylight left,” said Krom. “We would do well to get off this mountain and reach the gates of Dura Cragis before nightfall. Lord Orphlyus I know to be loyal to Athylian. He may be able to provide us with a shuttle and escort to Allega.
“If I am not mistaken, we stand above the northeastern point of Horned Vale, in the Boldúrin mountains. Once in the vale, our journey to Dura Cragis should be less than a league. Let us be off.”
The companions shouldered their packs and began the cold descent off the mountain. Skylar, still in a daze and puzzling over how he had traveled across space in the blink of an eye, fell-in behind Lasseter. Their going proved arduous, for they found no clear path leading down. Many times their progress was stymied by an unexpected chasm or cliff wall. Weariness slowed Skylar’s steps. They had not slept. And it was well into the night on Quoryn by now.
When finally they made it off the mountain and down into Horned Vale, the sun hung below the tops of the mountains, bathing the valley in a premature twilight. Krom’s estimate as to their location had been accurate. Dura Cragis was just under a league from where they now stood. Due north from their corner of the vale, chiseled into the side of the black mountain, Dura Cragis could clearly be seen.
After a brief stop to rest and eat a morsel of food, the companions resumed their journey. They followed along the base of the foothills of the mountains, where the trees and vegetation grew denser, to protect their march from any unfriendly eyes. It was nearly dark by the time they came just outside the city walls. Dura Cragis rose before them proud and defiant, a mighty stone fortress, as impenetrable as the mountain into which it was carved. The lights of its buildings and towers burned golden, lending an air of life to an otherwise cold and dead mass of rock.
The companions halted just inside a line of trees, staying out of view from any sentinels.
“I shall go,” said Grim “There may be unseen danger. I know Orphlyus well. I shall petition him on our behalf then come and bring back word.”
Krom considered the matter from several moments, looking out at the mountain city. After a while, he nodded.
“Very well. We shall wait for you a little farther back into the woods. Be cautious.”
“I shall return in no more than an hour,” replied Grim. Removing his pack, he then set out into the open, heading straight for the gates of Dura Cragis. Skylar watched him until he could see nothing but a black blotch, which gradually melted into the deepening night.
Time crept by slowly. Within the cover of the trees, as they were, without a fire or torch, the darkness was complete. The other companions, as Skylar saw them were naught but black shadows against a dark gray canvas, striped with the thick black lines that were the trees around them. Despite his weariness, sleep eluded him. But he didn’t wish to sleep. An undeniable concern for Grim’s safety gnawed at him.
An hour passed. Krom left the companions to look out across the clearing, only to return shortly after with no news of Grim.
Two hours passed.
Three.
Skylar’s nerves were tense.
“Shouldn’t we go after him?” Skylar blurted out when he could bear the waiting no longer.
“No, Skylar, we should not,” came the low voice of Krom out of the darkness.
“But he said he’d be back—”
“I’m well aware of what he said.”
“Are we just going to keep waiting? He may be in trouble.”
A sickening silence followed.
“We shall not wait. I very much suspect there is trouble. Real trouble. Grim most certainly would have returned by now if not. That
is trouble which we cannot afford to put you in. We must get away from this place.”
“And leave Grim!” Skylar’s voice had risen to a near shout. “We can’t just abandon him.”
Despite Skylar’s anger, Krom remained calm. Yet he spoke firmly and with a finality which left no room for argument.
“Grim will take care of himself. It is not my wish to leave him. But we have no other option. You are the future of the empire. Grim would not have us risk your safety to help him. Let us depart.”
In the darkness, Krom gathered his belongings, turned and started heading back the way they had come. The other two companions stalled for a moment. Feeling desperate at the thought of leaving Grim, Skylar made a plea to Lasseter.
“Uncle?” was all he said.
“Come, Skylar,” he said softly. “This is easy for none of us. But it must be so.”
Then he turned and followed behind Krom. Wordlessly, Endrick waited for Skylar, who glanced back toward Dura Cragis once more, bowed his head then reluctantly set off behind the others.
They trudged on for an hour or more, keeping to the foothills which wrapped around Horned Vale, moving ever father away from the fortress city, away from Grim. Though he could still see the dark silhouettes of his companions, Skylar felt utterly lost and alone—a wanderer benighted on a cold, unfamiliar planet. Every step he took in that dismal state deepened the intensity of it. He was walking away from where he knew he ought to be.
Soon the mountains began to turn westward, forcing them to either ascend their rocky heights or head west. Krom led them west. Shortly after, they came to a break in the trees. Krom stopped just inside the deep shadows of the forest. Skylar looked out.
Not a hundred meters from where they stood stretched a road running north and south. Though no moonlight illuminated the scene, it was evident that the road came from the mouth of some tunnel through the mountains. And despite the late hour, there were shapes on the road. Skylar could hear them better than see them. The sound of legions of boots crunching on gravel filled the icy night air like an army of ghosts marching to battle.
“More of the king’s soldiers,” whispered Krom. “It’s as I suspected, but hoped not true. I fear Lord Orphlyus is no longer Lord of Fenorra.
“That tunnel they pass through is narrow,” he continued, “a safeguard against invasion. There could be thousands more. We’ll pass on the mountainside. The way is not steep and there are plenty of boulders to hide us from view.”
They did not have to travel far up the mountainside to find a path which led them over the tunnel. As they crossed over it, Skylar could still hear the ominous sounds of the troops marching toward Dura Cragis. Once they’d passed over the tunnel, Krom led the band gradually back down to the smoother terrain of Horned Vale.
In the darkness it felt as if they had been walking all night. Skylar checked his chronometer. Not yet midnight. Soon black trees surrounded them again. Krom guided them deeper into their protective shadows. A quarter of an hour later, Krom signaled a halt.
“We shall sleep here tonight,” said Krom.
“I’ll keep the first watch,” replied Skylar, trying not to sound too eager.
There was a pause. Skylar waited nervously for Krom’s reply.
“I suppose since Grim is not...very well. Wake me immediately if you hear or see the slightest thing.”
It took no time at all before the sounds of slumber rose from his three companions. Still, he waited several minutes more. He couldn’t risk waking one of them. This opportunity would not come again. Convinced they were all soundly asleep, he quietly slipped away from the camp, and disappeared into the night.
FOURTEEN
SKYLAR CROUCHED ON the ground, peering out from behind a large boulder to spy on the road. To his relief, he found a steady stream of soldiers still flowing from the tunnel’s mouth. He was much closer to the figures than before. The gray shapes of foot soldiers intermixed with artillery transports were easier to distinguish now.
A thin mist had risen, blanketing the black earth, giving the soldiers the appearance of floating above the ground. Not a word did they speak as they marched relentlessly onward, their shadowy forms fading into the night.
Skylar forced himself to think clearly and ignore the eeriness of the scene. He knew that at any moment the stream of soldiers could end and his opportunity would be lost. As silent as a shadow, he moved closer to the tunnel’s entrance, skulking from boulder to boulder. The sounds of the soldiers’ march grew louder. A narrow ditch ran alongside the road. Dropping to all fours, Skylar left the protection of the boulders and crawled quickly into the ditch. He waited.
He knew he would have but one chance. There was no room for hesitation or mistake.
The feet of soldiers passed by just above his head. So close he could have reached up and grabbed at their ankles. They continued to stream from the tunnel. Had he missed his opportunity? He began to fear that his plan had failed scarcely before it began.
Then he saw it. The oversized wheels of on an artillery transport rolled out from the tunnel’s mouth, moving with exaggerated slowness.
“Almost there,” whispered Skylar. “Almost there.”
As soon as the front wheel passed by Skylar’s head, he pitched himself laterally from the ditch onto the road and rolled beneath the transport just in time to avoid getting crushed by the back wheel. Groping frantically in the dark, Skylar searched for something to hold onto on the undercarriage of the vehicle before it passed over him. It seemed to be moving swifter now. He thrust out his hands, heedless of the scrapes and bruises he was inflicting on them. At last, near the rear of the vehicle, he felt an opening to a rectangular cavity with a narrow ledge running along all four sides. With some effort, he squeezed himself into the cramped space. Skylar exhaled a sigh of relief. He had made it.
The artillery vehicle rumbled along. If he had not been so uncomfortably packed into that steel cavity, Skylar might have fallen asleep. Tired as he was, the rhythmic sounds of the vehicle’s engine and the crunch of gravel under its wheels were lulling. Occasionally, however, the wheels would hit a hole in the road, jolting the vehicle, and send Skylar’s head banging against the steel walls, knocking any sleep out of him.
After an interminable length of time, Skylar sensed that they were drawing near the city. The sounds of gravel were replaced by a humming, and the ride became smoother. They were driving on stone. The hint of amber lights began to reflect off the gray stone and find its way to his green eyes. They were coming into Dura Cragis.
Soon, Skylar felt the vehicle turn. Fewer lights illuminated the stone streets now. And the sounds of soldiers’ boots marching on the hard stone grew fainter.
The soldiers must be heading in a different direction. He continued to listen, straining his ears to make sense of every noise he heard. No, he was sure. The soldiers were moving away, or the vehicle was moving away from them.
When the vehicle finally stopped for a moment, Skylar ventured to poke his head out from his hiding spot. Seeing no boots standing near, he let himself down onto the street, crawled to the edge of the vehicle, made one final glance around, then dashed into the shadows of an alleyway.
Cautiously, Skylar navigated through the streets, keeping to the shadows and alleyways as much as possible. He found the streets mostly deserted as he moved deeper into the city. Occasionally, a stray clump of soldiers, or a wary townsman hurrying timidly along would pass him, but that was all. Skylar shivered as he made his way, though not from cold. Fear permeated the air. Just as he had felt it in the streets of Amrahdel.
The citadel was the only place he knew to look for Grim. If the guards had arrested him, they likely would have taken him to the citadel’s holding cells. How he would steal into that stronghold, once he found it, he had no idea. He only knew that he must find a way.
As yet, the citadel had not come into view. He had seen the formidable structure when he and the companions stood within the protection of the trees. H
e only knew that it stood at the rear of the city.
But he had little doubt that it would be well guarded, with virtually no way inside but through the main gates.
He quickened his pace.
A sudden burst of laughter made Skylar start. It came from behind. Skylar did not turn around, but kept walking. More laughter, followed by loud, slurred speech. Drunken soldiers. Skylar prayed they would pay him no attention. He increased his pace.
“Hey...you there!” shouted one of the voices from behind. “Come ‘ere.”
Skylar’s heart stopped midbeat. The soldier’s words were nearly unintelligible, but Skylar knew what he had said. He acted as if he didn’t hear and kept on his way, hoping they would leave him alone.
“Hey,” shouted the voice, cracking as a hiccup caught the word. “Come ‘ere I say or I’ll shoot ya.”
Skylar halted in his tracks. What to do? He could easily outrun the inebriated lout. But if he started shooting? Too many soldiers were in the city to risk such a scene. Reluctantly, he turned to face two soldiers staggering toward him with maladroit steps. A pathetic sight.
“That’s better,” slurred out the one. “Now,” he continued, close enough that Skylar could smell the suffocating odor of alcohol on his breath. “You’re gonna lend us a hand.”
The soldier paused as he tipped to one side, nearly toppling to the ground.
“See this here suit I a wear’n?” He banged his limp hands against the armored breastplate. “Off, I say. Too blazing hot. And you’s a gonna do it. Ya hear?”
The soldier shot a gloved finger at Skylar’s chest, but missed and only stabbed the air in front of him. Then he collapsed to the ground, with his torso still vertical, swaying back and forth.
“Get on with it,” ordered the soldier. “Off, I say. Off!”
Starting with the soldier’s breastplate, Skylar searched for a means of removing the protective suit. Finding some latches along the seam, where the front and back met on the sides, he began working to unfasten them. His fingers trembled, making the job more difficult.
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