The Dark Monolith

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The Dark Monolith Page 38

by F. P. Spirit


  “Gee, thanks,” Donnie drawled, with a wry smile on his lips. The slight elf shifted his eyes back to Alana. “I still think it should be either you or Lloyd… especially after facing those iron golems.”

  Alana winced briefly at the painful memory, then gave the slight elf a brief smile. The lady knight turned her attention back to Lloyd, her expression tentative. “Together?”

  Lloyd peered back at her, his own expression uncertain, then a broad smile broke out across his youthful features, and he nodded to the lady knight. “Together it is, then.”

  “Finally,” Elladan drawled. “My arms are getting tired of holding this thing!”

  Alana and Lloyd smiled warmly at the bard as they trod forward and took the sphere from his hands. Elladan stepped back to join the others, and watched as the duo strode up to the pedestal. They stood on either side, holding the orb aloft above the circular indentation. The lady knight and young warrior exchanged a brief glance, then gently lowered the sphere into the depression on the dais. It was a perfect fit. Everyone held their breath, all eyes focused on the golden orb as it sat unchanged on the top of the pedestal. Glo felt a hand on his arm, and glanced briefly down to see Elistra holding on to him. In fact, everyone was huddled close together, all eyes firmly fixed on the dais before them. As Glo shifted his gaze back to the pedestal, he noticed something strange. The golden sphere had begun to sink, slowly disappearing into the platform. Donnie’s voice rang out in a semi-hushed tone. “Would you look at that?”

  Elistra responded in a soft voice. “Yet another case of Larketh’s dramatics.”

  Elladan chuckled softly at her comment. “I said it before—the dwarf had flair.”

  The golden sphere continued to sink into the pedestal, the top edge finally vanishing below the surface. At that point, an audible click sounded from somewhere underneath the dais, and the entire pedestal slid backwards noiselessly across the floor. There was a square hole in the floor where the platform had stood, revealing a set of stone stairs descending into the depths below. Donnie stared wide-eyed at the stairwell. “There’s a sub-sub-basement?”

  “It would appear so,” Aksel responded, his mouth slightly agape.

  “It figures,” Seth added, his tone unmistakably laced with sarcasm.

  The companions gathered around the newly discovered entrance, peering down as far as they could see. The staircase was illuminated by glowing tiles in the wall, similar to the floor and ceiling tiles in the large chamber where they currently stood. It spiraled downward, disappearing from sight around a bend a dozen or so steps below.

  “Well, shall we?” Donnie asked with mock enthusiasm.

  “Not just yet,” Aksel said slowly, his eyes sweeping across the gathered group. “If I’m right, it’s only about midday, and we’ve all been through a lot already. I don’t think it would hurt to stop and replenish ourselves before moving on.”

  Donnie motioned toward Lloyd and Alana. “Too bad we can’t have a hot meal. Somehow, I don’t think cold rations are going to do our warriors here much good.”

  As if on cue, a loud growling noise erupted from Lloyd’s midriff. The young man placed a hand over his stomach, and grinned sheepishly. Seth’s mouth twisted into a smirk. “I think Lloyd’s stomach agrees.”

  His comment elicted a few minor chuckles. Alana stepped over to the young warrior and placed a gauntleted hand on his shoulder, a hopeful smile gracing her lips. “We may be in luck. If it is indeed lunch time, they’ll have a pot stewing in the camp outside.” Her eyes swept around the rest of the circle. “It’s fairly standard procedure, especially with large groups. That way, anyone in the camp can grab a quick meal and get back to their post.”

  Glo was impressed. He was not familiar with the procedures of regimented groups out in the field, but what Alana said made a lot of sense. Aksel seemed to think so as well. “That would be excellent if we could take advantage of it.” His hand went to his chin, as he thought it through aloud. “We’d have to take the floating disc back up the shaft, probably fly down to the camp to save time, pick up the hot meals, and fly them back.” After a moment’s pause, he gave the lady knight a nod. “That seems feasible.”

  Glo agreed, but there was one thing that nagged at him. He voiced his concern to the others. “The only problem I forsee is that the windows in this place are covered with some kind of ‘privacy’ spell. We might be able to fly out, but you wouldn’t be able to see them on the way back.”

  “Not a problem. I can find them.”

  All eyes turned to Ruka. The young teen stood there with her arms folded, wearing a self-satisfied smirk. Glo raised an eyebrow at her confident attitude. “How’s that possible? From what I can tell, the spell on those windows block all sight and sound from the outside.”

  Ruka cocked her head to one side, her smirk widening even further. “You’ve obviously never spent any time as a hawk. Their senses are extremely sharp compared to a human’s. Trust me when I say that in that form, I will know exactly where the window is, even if I can’t see it.”

  Ruka seemed so sure of herself that Glo was not going to argue with her. Aksel also appeared convinced. “Okay then. Glo, you fly down with Ruka.” He paused, his gaze shifting to Lloyd. The young man’s face had lit up at the mention of flying, but Aksel immediately dashed his hopes. “I still want you to rest, so if you could lend your cloak to someone, they could follow along to lend a hand.”

  “I’ll take it!” Donnie said, raising his hand excitedly. He immediately regreted his outburst when he saw the disappointed look on Lloyd’s face. The slight elf curbed his enthusiasm, and swiftly added, “That is, if you don’t mind.”

  Lloyd gazed back at Donnie with a wan smile. “No... that’s fine.” He doffed his cloak and held it out to the excited elf, his expression turning wistful. “It is a lot of fun.”

  Donnie gingerly took the cloak and held it up in front of him, staring at it with obvious intrigue. He then gazed back at Lloyd, his expression turning solemn. “I promise to take good care of it.”

  Aksel cleared his throat. “Alright then. While you’re there, meet with Sir Craven and bring him up to date. Then gather up as much stew as the two of you can carry, and follow Ruka back.”

  Seth, standing silently through all of this, finally spoke up. “I’m coming with you—at least to the top floor.” Aksel gazed at the halfling curiously, but before he could ask, Seth answered his question. “We have no idea where those Serpent Cultists went. So while they go get ‘take out,’ I’ll keep a watch on the shaft.”

  “Ah,” Aksel said, nodding with understanding, “sounds like a good idea.”

  Lloyd’s stomach chose that moment to growl again. Everyone chuckled. “Sorry,” Lloyd apologized, grinning sheepishly once more as he placed a hand over his wayward stomach.

  Donnie grinned at the young warrior. “That’s okay, Lloyd. We’ll have that taken care of in no time!”

  The Woman in the Woods

  They described her as strangely alluring

  There had been no sign of the Serpent Cult when they reached the top floor of the monolith. Seth remained stationed near the shaft as planned, using his cloak to make himself invisible. Outside the monolith, the knight’s camp bustled with activity. The entire campsite was now surrounded by a barrier of pitched wooden spikes, and in its center, a large black cauldron sat suspended over a roaring campfire.

  A number of armored warriors gathered around the huge pot, spooning from bowls what could only be stew. Donnie’s stomach grumbled at the sight. Glo and Ruka exchanged grins at the expense of the slight elf. Donnie grinned sheepishly back at them. “I guess it’s catching.”

  Ruka smirked at him, and then, without a word, shifted into the now-familiar shape of the white-tailed hawk. Glo followed suit, casting the fly spell upon himself, while Donnie invoked Lloyd’s flying cloak. The hawk li
fted off the floor, and with a great beat of her wings, shot out through the window and into the open air.

  Donnie and Glo exchanged a quick glance, then launched themselves after the magnificent winged creature. The hawk sped away from the monolith, and then began to bank. She slowly arced into a graceful circle, and spiraled downward toward the camp far below. Glo and Donnie glided straight down as the hawk flew circles around them.

  Abruptly, a small dark form zipped out of the trees, and winged its way toward them. It was Raven! Glo felt a warmth inside at the sight of his childhood companion. He hadn’t realized just how much he missed her. Raven soon joined Ruka, spiraling around the two elves as they descended toward the camp below.

  The Knights of the Rose had already spotted them, the dark-haired form of Sir Craven appearing out of a large pavillion in the center of the camp. The head knight waved upward to them, bidding them to land next to him. The two elves adjusted their flight pattern, angling themselves toward the waiting knight. When they were within a few yards of the ground, Sir Craven called up to them.

  “Well met, Glolindir and Donatello! Where are the others?”

  “Well met, Sir Craven,” Donnie responded in kind. “They are all well—merely waiting inside.”

  As the two elves touched down, Sir Craven strode to meet them, extending a gauntleted hand. The knight smiled grimly as he shook with each of them in turn. “We were beginning to get worried.”

  Glo opened his mouth to answer, but was momentarily distracted by the feeling of tiny feet latching onto his shoulder. He swiveled his head, reached up, and stroked Raven’s feathers gently. He had indeed missed her. Meanwhile, Donnie spoke for the two of them. “There’s no need for that. Everyone’s”—Donnie suddenly grimaced as the large, white-tailed hawk landed on him, its sharp talons latching onto his shoulder—“fine.”

  Glo did his best to suppress a laugh. Ruka never seemed to miss an opportunity to get under Donnie’s skin—figuratively or literally. Sir Craven covered his mouth with his hand, pretending to cough into it. “Ahem, yes. So have you found what we came for?”

  “Not just yet,” Glo answered for them, as Donnie tried to shoo the hawk off his shoulder.

  “And no sign of the cultists?”

  Glo shook his head. “None.”

  Sir Craven’s expression grew troubled. “That is indeed strange.”

  As the conversation continued, Glo spied a familiar figure striding across the camp toward them. It was a man dressed in brown leathers, a bow slung over his shoulders, and a quiver of arrows sticking out behind his head.

  “Martan!” Glo hailed the tracker.

  “Glo, Donnie.” Martan nodded to each of them in turn.

  Sir Craven gave Martan a nod as well. “Glolindir and Donatello were just telling us of their progress inside the monolith.”

  Martan gazed from Donnie to Glo, his expression rife with curiousity. “Oh. Find anything?”

  “Not really…” Glo began.

  “…other than a whole bunch of traps and puzzles,” Donnie finished for him, still trying to shoo the white-tailed hawk off his shoulder.

  Martan appeared quite surprised. “No sign of the Serpent Cult?”

  “None,” Glo answered, still finding it hard to believe himself.

  Donnie finally gave up trying to get Ruka off his shoulder. He turned to Sir Craven and Martan, still grimacing. “What about… out here?”

  Sir Craven pointed around the campsite with his open hand. “The fortifications are done as you can see, and it’s been relatively quiet—with the exception of one strange occurrence.”

  Glo’s eyes shifted between the tracker and the knight. The duo exchanged a brief glance, their expressions somewhat strained. Glo raised an eyebrow at their odd behavior. “What happened that was so strange?”

  Martan’s complexion reddened slightly. When he spoke, his tone was rather tentative. “I believe it was that succubus, again.”

  Glo felt a sudden sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. “Are you sure?”

  Martan raised his hands and shrugged, his faced reddening a bit more. “I didn’t see her myself, but listen to Sir Craven’s story, and you’ll see what I mean.”

  Glo peered at the knight, who seemed most uncomfortable with the topic. After a few moments of silence, Sir Craven began to tell the tale. “Well… it was the middle of the night. Most of us were asleep… but the sentries were on duty…” The head knight paused, his face flushing further. Glo and Donnie exchanged a brief glance, but waited silently for him to continue. “This strange woman appeared out of nowhere at the edge of the woods… she was absolutely stunning from the way the sentries described her… and… she was completely naked.”

  When Sir Craven finished, his face was quite flushed. Donnie, completely unabashed, questioned the embarrassed knight further. “Was she full figured, with fair skin, pouty lips, and long flowing red hair…” The slight elf abruptly halted, grimacing as Ruka dug her talons deeper into his shoulder. “What?” the hapless elf yelped, wincing from the hawk’s strong grip. “I was only trying to be accurate!”

  Sir Craven’s face was filled with mixed emotions—embarrasment from the story he had just related, and amusement at Donnie’s current predicament. “As a matter-of-fact, that is exactly how the sentries described her.”

  Glo glanced at Martan, his head slighty cocked, his expression apologetic. “It appears you were right.”

  Martan responded with a wan smile. “I wasn’t sure at first either, but you have to listen to the rest of it.”

  Glo arched an eyebrow, his eyes shifted back to Sir Craven. “There’s more?”

  The knight nodded, the redness draining from his face as his expression turned grim. “The sentries reported that she tried to lead them away into the woods. They described her as strangely alluring, and almost followed her. Now knowing what she is, I am sure they would have, if they had not been devout followers of Cormar.”

  Glo nodded slowly in understanding. “So their holy vows protected them from her charms.”

  Sir Craven responded with a curt nod. “Yes. Without our god’s favor, we would be little more than ordinary warriors—but enough talk of this evil creature,” he declared, with a dismissive wave of his hand. “It is midday, and you must be starving. Let’s adjourn inside, and you can tell me all about your adventures inside the monolith, over a bowl of stew of course.”

  Donnie bowed graciously to the thoughtful knight. “Thank you, that would be wonderful, but it will have to be quick, I’m afraid. Our comrades still wait inside, and we were hoping we could trouble you for hot meals for them as well?”

  Sir Craven peered at the slight elf, his eyes filled with understanding. “And so it shall be! I will have the squires fetch it for you.” He looked past them and called across the camp. “Lamorn, can you and Syndir gather some empty casks, and fill them with stew?”

  The young squire stood by the cauldron, ladle in hand, dishing out meals to the gathered men in armor. He put the ladle down, and responded with a crisp salute. “At once, Sir Craven.”

  “But first, bring three bowls into my tent,” Sir Craven added.

  A thoughtful expression crossed Donnie’s features. “Umm, ifI might ask—what kind of stew is that exactly?”

  Martan was the one to answer him. “It’s fish stew.”

  Donnie and Glo peered curiously at the tracker. Martan shrugged, a self-conscious expression crossing his face as he explained further. “On our way here, I noticed the streams were teaming with trout. So a few of us went back this morning, and did a bit of fishing.” He finished with a motion mimicking the casting of a fishing rod.

  Donnie grinned at the tracker, then glanced up at the hawk sitting on his shoulder. The bird peered back at him, its head spinning back and forth, then responded with a single, “caw
.” Donnie shifted his gaze back to Sir Craven, holding up all his fingers sans the thumb. “Four bowls then,” he corrected the knight.

  Sir Craven gave the elf an odd look, but repeated his words without question. “Make that four bowls!”

  “Yes, Sir Craven!” came Lamorn’s response.

  The knight spun around to face the pavilion and motioned the others to follow. As they stode toward the large tent, he glanced over his shoulder at Donnie and Glo. “So then, tell me what I’ve missed.”

  A little more than half an hour later, Glo, Donnie, Ruka and Seth returned with enough hot stew for everyone. Good to her word, Ruka unerringly led the elves back into the monolith. The top chamber remained empty except for Seth, who reported no sightings of the Serpent Cultists. During lunch, Donnie reported the succubus sighting to the others.

  “So the witch followed us here, then,” Elladan said in between

  spoonfuls.

  “I had a slightly different word in mind for her,” Elistra added, an impish smile upon her lips.

  There were a few chuckles around the group, but Aksel managed to remain impassive. “Well, either way, if she’s lurking around outside, she might have seen you three come in and out of the upper floor.”

  Glo let out a soft groan. “Which means, we more or less showed her a way past the sentries into the monolith.”

  Elistra reached over and patted him gently on the shoulder. “There’s no way you could have known.”

  Aksel’s eyes shifted from Elistra to Glo. “Elistra’s right. I wasn’t trying to blame anyone. I was just pointing out that she will most likely find her way inside.”

  Elladan’s eyes swept across the entire group. “So when the cultists finally rear their ugly heads, the succubus will most assuredly be with them.”

 

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