Whatever truth Noraldeen saw—what he himself could not see—he now believed to be true. She was his moral compass, the trustworthy sure guide leading him home.
“Nora,” he said softly. “Say it, and it will be enough for me. You do not want me on this throne?”
She looked at him tenderly and pointed to the cedar tree where the children had fallen asleep. “Do you see the grass beneath the cedar tree?” she asked softly. “It is a throne far more glorious than this. That is where I would rather see you. That is where you belong.”
He smiled and relaxed. “What a fool I am. My sister would agree with you. This throne is not for me. I don’t belong here.”
“The choice is made,” said the majestic voice behind the fall.
Ahiram crumpled and Noraldeen caught him before he hit the ground. The light around her began to dim.
“Daughter,” said the Lady of Eleeje as a fog rose from the earth that surrounded them. “A guide is coming who will show you what you must do to break this curse.”
“Who?” Noraldeen asked. “Who is coming?”
“Noraldeen, are you all right?”
The Silent opened her eyes with a start and saw Sheheluth standing over her. “Are you all right?” Sheheluth repeated.
“She found us,” said Jedarc.
Sheheluth knelt down and touched Ahiram’s forehead. “We must act quickly,” she said. “Everyone, help us bring Ahiram inside. Quickly now.”
Encouraged by her sense of purpose, they carried Ahiram back into the farmhouse. “Do you wish for Ahiram to live?” she asked.
“Of course,” said Jedarc.
“Will you do everything in your power to help him?” she asked again.
“Why?” replied Hiyam. “What do you have in mind?”
“Time is running short. I come from a place where spells, curses, and magic run freely. I won’t get into the details, so please do not ask me. I can see the curse around him. It’s like a series of complicated knots, one on top of the other. The entire structure is complicated. It is constricting him and soon he will—”
“Die?” finished Noraldeen.
Sheheluth shook her head. “Curses like this one don’t kill you … you become a shell, a wraith.”
“So what should we do?” asked Banimelek, who preferred not to dwell on the news. “How can we help?”
“Normally we would undo the knots, one by one, but since time is running out we will have to burn them, so to speak.”
Hiyam gasped. “Burn the curse? It cannot be done.” Hiyam said.
Sheheluth gave her a reassuring smile. “Ordinarily, you are right because when you try to burn a curse, especially one as complicated as this one, you may kill the victim. In this case, we have a fighting chance because he possesses something very, very powerful. My plan is to nudge this power and cause it to burn the curse.”
“What will happen if you fail?”
Sheheluth shrugged her shoulders. “We all may die, or be sent to the Vanishing Land, or we may stand here and watch him fade away.”
They all glanced at each other.
“You don’t have to do it,” said Noraldeen. “I will. I am strong enough.”
Sheheluth shook her head vehemently. “No, you can’t do by yourself. There aren’t even enough of us to do it right, and everyone must agree.”
“We’re all in, Sheheluth. Tell us what we must do,” said Jedarc.
“Let’s start,” urged Banimelek.
Sheheluth looked at Hiyam who came and stood by Jedarc. You’re the only who understands magic, she seemed to say, are you ready for this? Hiyam smiled and nodded. The young Silent nodded in return. “Everyone turn your back to me, close your eyes and keep them shut until I tell you.” They turned their backs to her. She inhaled sharply, vanished for an instant and reappeared calm and refreshed. “All right, you can turn back now. Banimelek,” she ordered in a softer voice, “please sit on the floor next to Ahiram.” With her dagger she cut the outline of a wide circle into the stone floor. She waved her finger over the circle and the stone collapsed as it turned into dust. The others gasped. Sheheluth smiled. “Any child in my hometown can do this. Commander Tanios forbade me from using my skills, but I don’t think he would object now. Noraldeen, remove your shoes and stand in the circle.” Next, Sheheluth asked Jedarc to stand by the window and finally, for Hiyam to stand next to the fireplace. “Add another log to the fire,” she added.
“But he’s burning up,” protested Noraldeen.
“I know,” Sheheluth replied. “Either we succeed, or he is gone.”
She opened one of her Silent-equipped belt pockets and removed five smooth white stones. She gave one to each of them. “Hold this stone in your fist and do not let go. You will feel a burning sensation in your hand, as if your flesh is on fire, but this is just a sensation. Your hand will be fine. Now, clasp the stone tightly, and do not let go.”
“We got that,” Banimelek snapped. “What next?”
“Stay where you are. You may be a bit surprised, but do not move.”
Sheheluth removed her shoes and sat behind Ahiram’s head. She placed both hands over his heart, closed her eyes and said, “Enteraka!” which meant, let it flow.
At first, nothing happened. Then Hiyam screamed. Flames from the burning logs behind her had slithered out of the hearth and now climbed along her leg.
“You are not on fire,” said Sheheluth. “Remain calm. All is well.”
Banimelek nearly panicked when he felt his limbs turn to stone. They were so heavy he could not move them. Jedarc found himself floating in the air and hooted. Noraldeen remained calm and collected even when roots shot up from the ground and ran along her arm until they reached her fist, the one gripping the stone.
Sheheluth breathed deeply. “Good. Everything is in place. Now, we must hope that what we are about to do will wake the magic in Ahiram. I want each of you to keep your eyes shut and think of a reason—the one reason— why you want him to live. Banish every other thought from your mind. Close your eyes now.” She made sure they obeyed before vanishing for another quick moment. She reappeared and continued with an imperious tone. “Are you ready? Focus on the most important reason you want Ahiram to live.”
“Yes,” said Jedarc. “Because he is my friend.”
“Because I owe him a debt of gratitude,” said Hiyam softly.
“Because he has to defeat the urkuun,” added Banimelek.
“Because I love him,” said Noraldeen.
“Very good. Different reasons. Different motives. Very, very good. Now, no matter what, no matter how horrible you feel, keep your eyes closed and focus on your reason. Above all, do not let go of your stone.”
A drowning sensation came over each of them. Hiyam felt as though fire was coursing down her throat and she grasped her neck with her free hand. Coughing sputtered from Banimelek, who thought he was swallowing dirt. Jedarc gasped with the sensation that he was suffocating under a windblast so strong it would not let him breathe. Noraldeen hallucinated that she was turning into grass.
“Stay focused. Ignore the sensations. Focus on your reason to see Ahiram through.” Sheheluth’s voice rang strong and clear, but it was unsettling. It sounded like the voice of a very old woman.
Abruptly, the strange sensation was gone and replaced by a very real burning feeling in their hands. Hiyam nearly dropped the stone but managed to keep her hand closed at the last moment.
“The feeling is real, but the burning is not.” Sheheluth’s voice was a whisper; a dreamy, faraway whisper.
How long did the burning sensation last? No one could tell. The suffering was intense, and the desire to drop the stone was overwhelming. “A bit longer,” said Sheheluth. “Just a little bit more. Now, release the stone! Drop it now!”
They followed her order and opened their eyes. Hiyam, Jedarc, and Noraldeen collapsed onto the floor. They were weary, drained beyond anything they could have imagined before. “The weakness will fade soon,” s
aid Sheheluth, exhausted herself. Slowly, she got up. “Now, everyone out. We need to leave now.”
She went around and helped each of them to stand. “Quickly now, we do not have much time.”
“Why?” asked Noraldeen, breathless. “What is happening?”
“His power is awakened. I can see it but you cannot. It is about to burn the curse. We cannot stay here.”
She forced everyone out of the farm and urged them to mount their steeds. “Gallop away, quickly now.”
Sheheluth nudged her own horse, and as it fled, the other horses followed. Though dazed, Hiyam wondered what she smelled. Something is burning, she thought.
“Look!” snapped Jedarc. “Look at the ground.”
Hiyam gasped. She gripped the reins and screamed. Everything around them, as far as they could see, was crumbling. The meadows, the trees, and every living thing was turning into ash before their very eyes.
Sheheluth slowed her horse, came to a full stop, and turned around. “We can watch from here.” She said.
“What happened?” asked Hiyam. “What is this destruction?”
Sheheluth shrugged her shoulders. “You want him alive?” she asked. “This curse he’s under is mighty. It takes a lot of energy to get the power he is holding to react.” With her chin, she pointed to the farm. “Now—
“What’s that?” wondered Banimelek, bewildered. “What’s that light?”
A blinding arc shone from inside the farm and grew into a sphere that swallowed the entire building.
“Is Ahiram safe? What have we done?” asked Noraldeen.
“We have awakened his power,” said Sheheluth.
The sphere continued to grow until it became ten times bigger than the farm. Then suddenly, it vanished.
“Is that it?” asked Banimelek. “Is it over?”
“Let’s go back,” said Jedarc, prodding his horse.
“Don’t move,” snapped Sheheluth without taking her eyes from the farm. “It begins now.”
The walls of the farm exploded in a tempest of flying stone. Instinctively, Hiyam placed a protective arm in front of her face, but from the chest of Ahiram, who was still lying unconscious, a gray flame burst free in a strident shriek and drew the rocks back, shattering them in the process. Fueled by the matter it had just consumed, it grew in strength and girth until it dwarfed the tallest of trees. A second flame, bright as the sun, came forth from the Silent’s side and the tongues of unnatural fire fought viciously, like two serpents vying for the same territory.
“Ahiram, please,” whispered Noraldeen. “Please live!”
As if on cue, the bright flame surged past the gray one and swallowed it. The friends cheered, not knowing why they were cheering. The bright flame went out and dust progressively settled.
“Is it done?” asked Jedarc hopeful. “Is he alive?”
“Let’s go and find out,” said Sheheluth.
“Sylveeds. They are coming this way,” whispered Tanios as he quickly drew back into the tunnel.
They had finally reached one of the main passages that led to the heart of the fortress. This was their first contact with the enemy.
“There is no point in hiding,” whispered Bahiya. “The urkuun must have detected our presence by now.”
“What do you suggest we do?”
“I suggest you go back and let me continue alone,” said Bahiya. “You cannot help me in what I am about to do now.”
“This we shall see,” replied Tanios. “There is no turning back. We’re in this together.”
“Death is certain, Tanios.” She was pleading with him even though she knew he would not change his mind.
“We do what we must. Let’s go and face him.”
“When we get there, stay behind me. I want you to promise that under no circumstance will you look at the urkuun. It will mesmerize you, and you will be lured into becoming one of them.” Bahiya pointed toward the direction of the sylveeds.
“Very well,” said Tanios.
“Good. Keep your focus on my left hand. Ignore everything else. When you see me wave my left hand back and forth, run, and do not look back. I will take care of the rest.”
“Fine,” replied Tanios as he stepped out of the room. I may not know anything about magic, but rest assured, my dear Bahiya, I have a little surprise for this urkuun, one he may not be expecting.
They resumed their descent until they reached one of the lower levels. Stepping off the staircase, they barely walked a few feet when a sylveed spotted them. Immediately, a threatening horde carrying spears and swords swarmed around them. They stood motionless until the movement subsided. Tanios could tell the sylveeds were ready for war. They filled the caves with continuous motion. Throngs of the creatures passed them on their way to the surface.
“Take us to your master. We wish to speak with him,” said Bahiya in a commanding tone.
There was a hush in the ranks. One sylveed came closer.
“Master is strong. No one stronger than Master. You want join us?”
“Yes,” replied Bahiya. “We recognize the strength of the master and we wish to join you.”
“Fine. We take you to Master. If Master wants, you join. If Master does not want, you die.”
The sylveed yelled some orders. Soldiers escorted them down a large corridor. The walls of the passageway oozed a foamy green substance, which turned the stone into gelatinous puddles that reeked of decay. If these poor creatures are willing to endure this ordeal, then the urkuun must indeed be powerful, thought Tanios.
Bahiya knew the urkuun would try to entice her to join him, to side with him, and to swear an oath of servitude to him. The fortress is in worse condition than I expected. This is going to make things a little bit easier. She counted on the monster’s self-confidence to act. Today, we shall see what happens when concentrators and orbs meet.
Orwutt and Zurwott crept cautiously out of their hiding place. The urkuun’s servants had hung tapestries on the wall and unrolled a thick lush carpet in the center. They had set a table and lit a dozen torches. Smells of roasted meat reached them and increased their suffering. A full legion of sylveeds stood along the walls and wore hoods that shielded them from the bright light. The twin brothers felt a cold, terrifying presence straight below them but could not see who it was coming from.
“Does your state of prepared preparedness match my readied readiness?” whispered Zurwott. “Will you be willing to actively act in the utmost certain certitude, and certitude so certain it is without a doubting doubt indubitably indubitable?”
Orwutt responded quietly, “Indubitable most indubitably. We need to conclusively conclude and terminally terminate this pugnaciously pugnacious terrorizing terror. I must admittedly admit that the ceiling must fall on the grounded ground below and not the other way around.”
“The successful failing of the roof will meaningfully mean, and mean most meaningfully, that those beneath the falling roof will unfailingly fail to rise and will, without fail, fail to responsibly respond to a summons.”
“Indeed, my brother, indeed. They will be dead.”
“How uncouth, my brother,” protested Zurwott. “It would be most appropriately appropriate to say that some who were short shall be tall, and those who were incongruously fat in incongruous areas, shall be slimmed down to the point of exaggerated thinness.”
“Apt descriptive description, my brother.”
“This is one link in the chain of causality that neither us who are above nor those who are beneath can escape. It must come to pass.” Zurwott spoke as closely as possible to the common tongue as was allowed by dwarfish propriety.
“And if the falling fall does not stop the terrorizing terror below?” whispered Orwutt.
“Then it may bruise it sufficiently, and sufficiently bruise it to weaken its strength and strengthen its weaknesses, so that someone else can put an effectively effective ending end to it.”
“When faced with the possibly possible, do the impossible …�
�� started Orwutt, with a forced grin.
Zurwott completed the worn-out but well-known dwarfish proverb, “...And when faced with the impossibly impossible, do the possible.”
“This suggests that our successful success is plausibly plausible.”
“Not only is it plausibly plausible and plausible most plausibly, but I would also say that it is possibly possible.”
A cohort of sylveeds silently crept into the room. The two dwarfs nearly gasped when they saw Tanios and Bahiya walking among them. The sylveeds bowed and joined the legion on the side of the temple. Bahiya and Tanios bowed.
“We have come to do you homage,” said Bahiya as she struggled to control the tone of her voice. It was too joyful to her taste. She looked at Tanios furtively and saw that he was looking down. He must be feeling it more than I, she thought.
“Did my hearing hear what I think I hurriedly heard?” asked Orwutt.
“My eyeing eyes saw what your hearing heard,” replied Zurwott. “Two of our great ones are giving in to treason. This should not be.”
“Now is the time to act,” said Orwutt.
The urkuun took Tanios by surprise. The commander expected the beast to terrify him, but instead, he was pleasantly surprised and relieved to feel the warm friendly atmosphere that now surrounded them. He wondered why they had decided to fight the urkuun, who struck him as a caring, harmless being. He was about to look up when he remembered the promise he had made to Bahiya and his iron-fisted discipline prevented him from breaking his promise. Bahiya was barely able to keep her focus in check. I won’t be able to wait much longer, she thought. Keeping her eyes on the beast, in her peripheral vision she saw the concentrators and orbs fly mere inches below the ceiling. Good, he has not noticed yet. She had released them on the way and kept them hidden from view high overhead. When they stepped inside the temple, she saw them dash along the walls of the circular room. By nature, concentrators held the magical fuel needed to ignite orbs. A little longer and the concentrators should be ready, thought Bahiya. Priests used their bodies to transform the energy stored in the concentrators into an energy suitable for the orbs. If an activated concentrator and an orb touched, they would cause a massive explosion, provoke a rift in reality, and therefore, lead to an Arayat spillover into the real world. The power of the explosion was magnified tenfold when two concentrators and two orbs were used, which is what Bahiya was about to do. She knew the blast would level the fortress and annihilate most of the sylveeds. She also knew that neither she nor Tanios would be able to survive. If the urkuun tries to smother the explosion, I have another surprise waiting for him. Her breathing quickened, and beads of sweat covered her forehead. The urkuun focused on her while keeping Tanios under his control.
Wrath of the Urkuun (Epic of Ahiram Book 2) Page 53