Alora: The Portal

by Tamie Dearen

  “I believe that about you.” One corner of his mouth lifted. “But truthfully, I’ve no idea how to circumvent Empusa’s protection. At least no further harm is coming to them.”

  “No! We must get them out. I must reach Kaevin.” With his head pounding, Jireo flailed with his sword at the impervious cloud.

  Graely lifted his lone, undamaged eyebrow. “So the defender bond exists, after all. I assume this is why you’ve come here, Jireo, directly disobeying our orders.”

  “I’m sorry, Graely. Truly, I had no choice.” Jireo ducked his face as heat rose in his cheeks.

  “The fact you’re compelled to be here by your bond is more terrifying than seeing them chained on either side of this evil shaman.” Graely’s voice trembled as he spoke. “You feel Kaevin’s death approaching?”

  Jireo’s throat convulsed as he tried to speak, but no words emerged. He nodded his head, staring at the floor.

  “Empusa!” Vindrake’s deep voice spilled into the room, oily and putrid, and Jireo felt the hackles rise on the back of his neck.

  Inside the foggy dome, the evil shaman lifted her head to the ceiling, opening her eyes, though her arms remained outstretched above her.

  “Kill them now!”

  *****

  Alora faded in and out of consciousness. Empusa stood between them, so silent and still, Alora thought she might’ve died where she stood. Empusa’s dome effectively cut off all the sights and sounds from the rest of the room, so Kaevin and Alora used the precious time to speak their hearts.

  “I’ve failed you.” Kaevin’s deep green eyes pierced her soul.

  “I’m the one who failed. I was too weak to bear the pain.” Alora tried to lick her dry lips, but she couldn’t find a drop of moisture in her mouth.

  “No one would describe you as weak. I felt it, too… I know how much it hurt. I’m still willing to speak the oath, Alora. Whatever is required to stop the torture.”

  “I know you want to help, Kaevin, but nothing is worth letting Vindrake’s mind inside you. Besides that, he was going to make you torture me. It would’ve made us both go insane.”

  “I must do something. I can’t simply lie still while he burns you over and over again. I cannot.”

  “We have to, Kaevin. We have to hold out until it kills me; then we’ll both be free.”

  “How I wish I could take the pain in your place. The fact I can’t protect you is agony to me. I love you so much.”

  Like cool water, Kaevin’s love washed over Alora, chilling the fiery agony of her burns. She fought to hold onto the precious sensation, though it made her feel weaker. Perhaps I’m finally dying.

  “I love you, too, Kaevin. I love you too much to let Vindrake into your mind. Better to suffer now and die than live under his control, wishing we were dead.”

  “Alora, I want you to know, I have no regrets about us. I’d rather die in agony like this, knowing you love me, than be safe at home in Laegenshire without you.”

  “Every girl dreams of being loved like that. I’m just glad I got to experience real love before I died. If we weren’t soulmates, I’d still choose you.”

  “I wish I could kiss you one last time.”

  “I wish for that, too. One last goodbye kiss. And I wish we could tell our friends goodbye.”

  “Empusa!” Vindrake’s deep voice penetrated the silent shroud.

  “Oh God, he’s back.” Alora’s body trembled, anticipating the torture to come.

  “Kill them now!” At Vindrake’s booming order, Alora tensed, desperately wishing she could hold Kaevin’s hand. Empusa lowered her arms, stretching them out on either side, over Kaevin and Alora.

  A shock went through Alora’s body, relighting the faded nerve endings. Her heart sped up like an adrenaline rush, and she panted against the pain.

  “It hurts,” she cried.

  “Don’t be afraid; we’ll die together,” Kaevin called.

  Uncle Charles, I wish you were here so I could tell you… I tried to stay alive. The world went black.

  *****

  The echoes of their footsteps reverberated against the walls as they hurtled down the dimly lit stone passageway. Charles’ lungs burned; he hadn’t run this much in years. Humbling for these two little kids to leave me in their dust. He had to be close behind them when they passed the guard’s station at the passage junction, or his strategy wouldn’t work.

  With grim determination, he put on a burst of speed, gaining on Haegen who followed close behind Markaeus. Both boys held their cans of pepper spray in their right hands, ready to aim at the guards. Peering over Haegen’s head, Charles realized the plan was doomed to fail. The sentries were supposed to be just inside the side corridor so the boys could run past them, spraying to the side. Then Charles would follow behind to stop the chase group. But instead of standing to the side with the other guards, one lone sentry stood right in the middle of the corridor.

  Fifty yards away, the guard shouted, waving his sword. Another sentry joined him. And another. Markaeus slowed, casting an uncertain glance over his shoulder.

  “Stop, boys. Let me take the lead. We’re going to have to play it by ear.” Charles ignored the confused expressions of the Water Clan warriors. Putting on his best Texas Hold’em poker face, he stomped confidently to face the three sentries with drawn swords. He named them Larry, Mo and Curly in his mind, not that they actual bore any resemblance to the Stooges.

  “I freely and gladly serve my master.” Charles hoped he remembered the phrase correctly.

  “Who are you? And why are you dressed so strangely?” Larry made no move to lower his weapon.

  “I’m a trader, and these are my grandsons. I traded for these clothes. You can see I haven’t got a sword, so there’s no need to aim your weapons at me.”

  “What is that thing in your hand?” asked Curly, raising a suspicious eyebrow.

  “This?” Charles lifted the Molotov cocktail bottle as if he had nothing to hide. He’d forgotten Kaevin hadn’t been familiar with blown glass. “I don’t really know for sure. I traded a pelt for it. It’s supposed to have a special lamp oil inside.”

  “But why are you in here? You and your grandsons?” Larry relaxed his sword arm, but his brows furrowed.

  “Of course, I’ve been ordered to bring this lamp oil to Vindrake.”

  “Then you’re in the wrong part of the cavern. Go back the way you’ve come.” Larry motioned with his free hand.

  “But you see, I’ve lost my pet,” said Haegen, pushing his way forward. “We were chasing him. There he is. Right over there.” He pointed past the guards. Charles followed the direction of Haegen’s finger, wondering how he was going to support Haegen’s bizarre story. Charles jaw dropped at the sight of a large brown and white rat.

  “That thing is your pet?” Mo turned up his nose.

  How are we going to pull this off?

  Curly slid to the side for a better view. “It’s a rat—it’s huge!” Curly’s face displayed a mixture of fear and disgust, the same sentiments Charles was attempting to hide from the guards.

  “Yes, that’s his pet. Call him, Haegen. Let them see how tame he is.” Markaeus pulled his brother’s arm, edging around the guards, who stared as if mesmerized by the strangely docile rat.

  Twenty feet past the guards, Haegen knelt down, calling out to the rat, “Nosewise! Come here, Nosewise.” To Charles amazement, the rat scurried into his waiting hands and Haegen stood, twisting to face the sentries with the disgusting furry creature cradled in his arms.

  With a casual stride, Charles moved around the guards to join the two boys. He reached out to stroke the rat with a wary hand, keeping his back to the guards. Only with great difficulty did he suppress a shudder at touching the dirty mottled fur. Readying the cigarette lighter, he muttered in a low voice. “Get ready to run, okay?”

  Markaeus nodded, sliding the two cans of pepper spray from the pockets of his cloak, and Charles turned to face the sentries again. “There. You see
? We couldn’t leave his pet behind.”

  “Very well. You have your rat.” Mo’s upper lip twitched up on one side. “Now be gone, back the way you’ve come.” He took a few steps toward them, muttering and gesturing over his shoulder with his sword.

  “We’re leaving right now.” With a click of his lighter, Charles set fire to the wick and flung the Molotov cocktail to shatter at Mo’s feet. Flaming liquid fanned out, splashing onto the floor and up onto all three sentries. Without waiting to see the results, Charles whipped around to chase after the boys. Terrified screams sounded behind him, and he prayed the fiery blockade would be sufficient to stop any pursuing guards. But soon he heard pounding footsteps in pursuit. The footsteps grew closer, gaining on him as the boys pulled away.

  Risking a quick glance over his shoulder, he saw two young burly guards a mere twenty-five yards behind him. He grasped the neck of the other bottle and clicked the lighter. A spark, but no flame. Again. Again the lighter flashed, but the flame wouldn’t catch. He moved the Molotov cocktail to his left hand and tried the lighter with his right thumb. At last, it worked. But his efforts had cost him much of his lead. The warriors were close.

  Dropping the lighter, he grabbed the bottle, twisting to throw without breaking stride. He heard the crash and yelling behind him. No more footsteps. He picked up his pace again, but the boys were out of sight.

  Rounding the bend, he spied them, thirty yards ahead, standing on a stone bench set back in an alcove. Markaeus reached up, sliding his hand across the smooth polished wall, and Charles saw a black opening appear. Haegen dashed inside as Markaeus stood on the bench, motioning with his hand. “Hurry, Uncle Charles! Hurry!”

  But Charles heard another set of footsteps behind him. Twisting his head, he discovered yet another sentry giving chase. “Go on!” Charles yelled at Markaeus. Slowing, he reached into his pocket, retrieving the Taser. “I’m almost out of tricks,” he muttered to himself.

  He stopped, bending over to hold his knees, as if he were catching his breath. It wasn’t much of an act. With his right side away from the guard, he hid the Taser behind his leg. The guard slowed as he approached, probably nervous after seeing the results of the two Molotov cocktails. Though shorter than Charles, the young warrior possessed massive muscles that flexed and bulged as he lifted his sword.

  “I surrender. I’m too tired to run.” Charles puffed out the breathless words.

  “Don’t move.” The warrior approached with caution, poised to attack.

  Charles froze in his bent position, watching the sentry’s progress from the corner of his eye. Just a few more steps. The Taser had a range of up to fifteen feet, but he’d never fired it at anyone before. He preferred to have his target at close range.

  “How did you make the fire? Are you shaman gifted?” The brawny guard moved his left hand inside the fold of his tunic, retrieving a gleaming knife, which he held in throwing position.

  Great… he’s got two weapons, and he’s bound to be gifted. I sure hope this works.

  Charles straightened, raising the Taser and aiming at the guard’s chest. As the guard opened his mouth to speak, Charles squeezed the trigger. He heard a spark, and his vision blurred. He held out his hands, attempting to balance against a sudden bout of vertigo.

  Blinking, Charles attempted to make sense of his surroundings. The corridor was gone. He was inside a strange rounded covering, like a giant opaque plastic dome—taller than he could reach, and the guard was gone. Before him stood a tall, thin woman with board-straight blond hair, whose face was turned to the ceiling while her hands extended out like a cross. Then his eyes focused on a horrific sight. On either side of the stiff woman, Kaevin and Alora were stretched out on wooden tables, chained by their ankles and wrists. Unmoving. Dead. Their faces forever frozen with identical expressions of agony. Alora’s arms were covered in the raw, blistered evidence of her torture.

  A sob escaped his lips. “No!” he screamed. “No! No! No!” In two steps he was bending over Alora, cupping her cheeks with his hands and wetting her face with his tears. “No! No! You promised you’d stay alive.” He choked the words out, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead.

  Why did I let her go on this mission? I knew something terrible would happen.

  Despite his outcries, the albino woman stood motionless as a statue, but for her lips, which moved in silent muttering. Bitter anger welled inside him. He knew without a doubt this woman was implicit in Alora’s and Kaevin’s deaths.

  “You know, I’ve always been taught not to hit a woman. But no one ever said anything about using a knife.” He drew a ceramic blade from his pocket, waiting for her response. Still she remained frozen. He lifted his blade. It’ll feel good to stab this monster in the heart. He thrust the blade at her, diverting at the last instant and crying out in frustration. I can’t kill her when she’s catatonic.

  He stepped back, drew his knee up and kicked out. The bottom of his boot impacted her abdomen with a satisfying thunk. She folded, tumbling to the floor, making eye contact with him at last. The icy look in her cobalt gaze chilled him to the bottom of his spine.

  *****

  As Drakeon’s voice spoke the lethal order, Alleraen almost shrieked at his powerlessness. He might as well be back behind the iron gate for all the good he’d done. He’d had the opportunity to accomplish something worthwhile with his life, but he’d allowed his selfish rage to take control. Now two innocent children, who happened to also be soulmates and Stone Clan’s greatest hope of victory, would die because of his mistake.

  Jireo threw himself against the impervious dome repeatedly until his skin tore. “I must reach Kaevin. I must reach him. Please, God. I must reach him.” His words turned into weeping.

  Inside the fog, Empusa stretched her hands to her sides. Though sound didn’t penetrate from within, Kaevin and Alora could be seen crying out in pain.

  Graely pounded at the protective shield with his sword. Again and again, like a mad man. Tears poured down Graely’s ravaged face as he watched his son die. Though his sword bounced off every time, he struck again. Over and over. Even when the children closed their eyes and lay still. Even when Morvaen put his hand on his shoulder and spoke his name.

  Every clang of Graely’s sword stabbed Alleraen with guilt. Every teardrop flooded him with shame. He turned his head away from the dreadful sight.

  “Look! It’s Charles!” Arista shouted, jumping and pointing inside the foggy dome.

  “Who is that?” Alleraen asked no one in particular.

  “Charles was Alora’s uncle.” Morvaen kept his eyes focused on the man inside the dome, who fell on Alora’s face, in obvious grief.

  “I was her uncle, too.” I let my niece die out of my own bloodlust. I’ve become as much a monster as my brother.

  Alleraen wept.

  ~ 20 ~

  With tears blurring his eyes, Alleraen took up the assault on the foggy dome with his own blade. Every blow rebounded, jarring him to the bone, but he used the effort to drive his tears away and gain control of his emotions. Anger, he could deal with. He’d become adept at converting his sadness and grief to anger. Year after year during his confinement, he’d allowed his rage to grow and build and fester until it took on a life of its own. It became his lifeblood and motivation. He felt comfortable as he grasped that thread of anger and brought it back to life.

  Apparently unaware of the outside surroundings, the man inside the dome pulled himself up from Alora and wiped his face on his sleeve. His face contorted with grief and rage, he reached inside his garment, removed a white blade and slashed toward Empusa, who remained in her killing trance, face upturned. At the last moment, the uncle deflected the blade. He ran his fingers through his short grey hair and opened his mouth in a silent scream of frustration. With an expression full of hatred and disgust, the uncle pulled his foot up and kicked Empusa in the gut.

  Outside the dome, Alleraen joined the rest of the audience in an unbidden cheer, glad to see the uncle�
��s boot impact the evil woman’s stomach. He watched with immense satisfaction as she crumpled to the ground.

  The dome disappeared.

  Empusa rose to her feet, directing her fury at her attacker. Her fingers twitched as she pointed her open hands at Charles, who fell to the floor, writhing in pain. Then her mouth opened wide and her eyes rounded. She toppled forward like a conifer tree, Jireo’s blade protruding from her back.

  Jireo fell over Kaevin, crying out his pain and anger. “No!” he screamed, his voice already hoarse from his earlier protests. His body quavered as he sobbed.

  Calmly ignoring Empusa’s body, Arista moved around the platforms, removing the iron shackles from Kaevin’s and Alora’s wrists and ankles. Charles crawled to his feet, his grief written on his tear-streaked face.

  “I’m so sorry, Charles. We were too late.” Graely ground out the words, as bitter tears poured from his eyes. “I should have listened when you argued against the plan.”

  Charles turned, embracing Graely, and they wept, clinging together.

  Alleraen jumped at a tug on his sleeve. Arista spoke with furrowed brows and authority in her voice. “You should move Alora beside Kaevin. They’re soulmates, and they should be together.”

  He thought to object to the action as useless until he noticed her red-rimmed eyes and tear-streaked face. Her grief, along with that of everyone else in the room, was on his head. He would do what he could to bring comfort since he couldn’t undo his mistake.

  He tried not to look at Alora’s mutilated arms as he gently scooped his hands under her and lifted her from the table. Cradling her against him, he walked around to the other platform, where Jireo still cried over Kaevin’s body. Jireo made room for him to place Alora’s body beside Kaevin. Arista reached across to put their hands together, a fitting gesture for a soulmate couple united in death.

  Arista’s gaze, swollen and red with anguish, was Alleraen’s undoing. He lost his careful control. Turning his head away, he batted his eyes to dry them, but once started the stream of tears would not be stopped. Fat salty drops rolled down his face to splash on Alora’s. He placed a gentle kiss on her cold cheek… the niece he’d never know. Her arm fell off the side of the table and he gently lifted it, folding it across her so the raw flesh wouldn’t be exposed. A wave of dizziness hit, and his knees buckled, making him grab the table to regain his balance.